#tune in next time where I ramble about how I desperately want and wish to imagine Death and Mort talking about their shared experience | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bby-deerling · 6 months

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Hey it said requests open but if there not it’s fine. Could you do a follow up on the zoros partner and best friend Sanji story. Maybe where he finds out about how she was feeling and some angst but happy ending please. Love your writing!

hello anon!!! i've actually had this floating around in my head for a few days myself! (and to the anon who wanted something similar but with a bit more angst + interactions w/sanji, i plan on doing a prequel as well so stay tuned!) ending is extra fluffy because i cannot help myself but in my defense it IS zoro's birthday today <3

in all my dreams (zoro x fem!reader) sfw, angst+fluff. wc: 2.1k

When Luffy and Zoro wake up and the crew rushes to greet them, you’re the first one to barrel through the door. Flinging yourself onto Luffy first to give him a quick squeeze while he’s eating, happy tears prick at your eyes. When you look up to gaze at Zoro across the table, he appears to be too busy drinking to even notice you, but as you approach him, he pats the ground next to him in an invitation to sit near him.

You’re not the only one who moves to take him up on it.

She’s too close, nestled right behind him, and the sweet smell of her perfume began to strangle your airways. You barely notice the pinprick feeling of nails digging into your arms until Chopper is yanking your hand away. There’s a brief pause in the pace of Zoro’s swallows as he chugs from the enormous bottle of sake, and for the first time since he’s woken up, his eye meets yours with a brief flash of emotions—you eagerly consume each one.

Excitement, love, concern, then, as he notices you were picking at your arms, guilt.

Your stomach twists into a mangled mess.

You don’t have time to spiral too far before he passes you a piece of meat with his free hand. Too slow on the uptake, your captain snatches it with his grubby, rubbery hands from across the table before you can so much as bring it towards your mouth. You doubted could keep down a delicious steak like that at a time like this anyways.

Chopper keeps trying desperately to get Zoro’s attention and get him to slow down, but his pace drinking was inhuman, even more so than before. As he tilts the bottle upward to lap up the last few mouthfuls, he offers you the mouth of the jug, holding your jaw in place as he pours. Unable to hold back a blush, you nearly gasp when he wipes the excess sake from your upper lip and tastes it from his own hand; by your limited standards of public displays of affection, it was obscene. His slate grey eye meets your gaze as you swallow, both exchanging a silent message.

I missed you.

And suddenly, everything is as it should be, the worry in the pit of your stomach replaced by butterflies and fondness and the excitement of finally getting to see him in motion for the first time in days. Head abuzz, drunk on love and liquor, you ramble to him about nearly everything that had occurred while he was asleep—all of the mundane and silly moments with your crew that you cherished, and wished he could have been there for.

Everything is so immaculately perfect, until Zoro wonders how his body ended up clean and she speaks up.

“…Is that pleasing to you~?”

Everything is red, and your ears are ringing, and your kimono is nearly singed by the flames at Sanji’s feet as he starts a petty argument with Zoro; the cook is jealous of the affection the swordsman is receiving, but you catch the deeper anger in his ocean blue eye—he’s fighting for your dignity. Embarrassment floods your cheeks as you recall your drunken misery from last night, praying he won’t bring it up to get the upper hand as they argue.

Chopper snaps you out of your frozen state, fretting over your frazzled condition. The little reindeer guides you to Nami, who gives you a firm squeeze on the shoulder and ropes you into the plans to head towards the bathhouses. There’s a brief lull in conversation, and the room is mostly silent, save for Zoro and Sanji’s bickering; of course, this is the moment the cook takes to open his mouth.

“Do you even have the faintest idea what you’re doing to her, mosshead? She’s a nervous wreck!”

The stupid cook had broken a key tenet of you and Zoro’s relationship—your dirty laundry was now being aired out in public, despite the fact that you were both trying to be as discreet as possible for not just your own safety, but the crew’s as well. Zoro now knew you had not only had a wavering of faith and had briefly doubted his level of commitment to you, but also that you had gone to Sanji of all people for comfort.

The two of you had never been in a fight before, but you bite your tongue and worry this might have pushed Zoro to the brink.

You grab Nami by the forearm and are out the door as quickly as possible before you can overhear more of their arguing. The rest of the women follow close behind, including Hiyori, her aura completely serene and unbothered; you on the other hand, are trembling so badly that Tama asks you if you’re ill. Sick with worry and the slight sting of betrayal at having your confidence broken, you try to smile and tell her you’re just a touch lightheaded.

Normally, Nami would give you a bit more grief for acting so bizarre, but as she feels you tremble, she can’t help but rub circles into your shoulder as you near the women’s baths.

“Everything’s fine, she’s just getting in your head.” she whispers; the fresh scent of tangerines washes over you and begins to calm your nerves.

Before you can respond, a noodle-like arm wrapped itself repeatedly around your torso like a boa constrictor and you found yourself yanked backwards. With the way your chest was tightened with anxiety, Luffy’s grasp was an unconventional comfort.

“I wanted to talk to ya’ about something!” he exclaimed, patting you on the head, giving you a smile so endearing that your nerves nearly vaporized. “People say that Boa Hancock is the most beautiful woman in the world, and she wanted to marry me a lot, but I don’t care—I’d rather have a nice piece of meat, y'know! So there! Get what I mean?”

Luffy’s grin is infectious, and spreads to your face before you both erupt into laughter. Cryptic wording aside, you picked up on what he was trying to say, and you find yourself embarrassed that you had gotten so worked up in the first place.

“Don’t call her a piece of meat, Luffy!” Chopper cries from on top of Zoro’s shoulders. “She’s not food no matter how many times you try to bite her—"

“—but Zoro’s always biting her all the time!” he whines, causing your face to flush.

You sense Zoro is about to grab you by the waist with your observation haki, and your face tingles with anticipation. As he pulls you into his side, he mumbles in your ear.

“Let’s talk later. I’ve got a gift for you.”

When you turn to look at him, he’s smirking, admiring the pink dusting on your cheeks. You nod, eyes brimming with excitement and relief; you almost dare to throw yourself into his arms since only Luffy and Chopper were around at the moment, but before you can act you’re being launched into the air.

“Back ya’ go!” Luffy shouts, laughing maniacally as you hurtle through the air back towards the women. You enjoy the brief sensation of flying and hope Nami will catch you; she does, but not without some grumbling at how she was going to knock Luffy upside the head later as you both headed towards the bath.

As she runs her fingers soothingly through your scalp, massaging the shampoo into your roots, you tell her Zoro plans to give you a present, and the navigator completely freezes.

“Seriously?” she asks, nearly choking with surprise.

“Mhm! You know what it is, don’t you?” you asked, eager for a hint.

“’Course I do, I paid for it!” she snaps back.

You look at her expectantly, but she gives you no clues. Pouting your lip out jokingly causes Nami to roll her eyes at you and sigh, deciding to throw you a bone.

“He must really be in the doghouse if he’s giving that to you now.” she says.

“You don’t mean—”

“Not telling you! Not telling you anything else! …Unless you pay me, but I know damn well you don’t have enough to cover the cost.”

You drop the subject, but excited jitters dance through your limbs and leave you restless. When you finally leave the comfort of the warm bath, Nami insists on preening over you, carefully brushing, drying, and styling your hair with one of her gorgeous hairpins, and makes sure your kimono looks perfect. The attention was welcome, especially because she would normally ask something in return, but surprisingly this time she tells you not to worry about it with a big smile on her face.

When you finally make it back to the Sunny with Nami, you glance around for Zoro and see him standing in the Observation Tower. Seeing your struggling on account of your heavy robes, he meets you halfway, descending the ladder, and offers to carry you up; when you gleefully accept, he scoops you into his arms as if you were weightless. Passing the threshold and entering the dome-like structure, he kisses your forehead and sets you down—any other time he would be a bit rougher about it, knowing how much you liked being tossed around, but he’s conscious of the way you’re bundled into your robes with care.

As your eyes meet, you can tell he’s excited, and a little unnerved. He contemplates saying something for a moment, but decides to sit down first.

“C’mere.” he says, patting the ground in front of him. You sit on your knees between his legs, and he wraps them the rest of the way around, encircling you. One hand cradles your face while the other one sits lazily on your hip.

“I’m so glad you’re awake…” you tell him, voice light as you feel like you’re finally able to breathe for the first time in days.

“You knew I’d be fine.” he says, kissing your forehead gently.

“I know, but I missed you!” you reply, giggling.

“I missed you too, pretty girl.” he says, planting a soft, gentle kiss on your lips. Pupils wide and eyes sparkling, you’re completely vulnerable, and all his. He drinks every drop of your affection up greedily as he does the last bits of sake from your lips.

He hesitates a moment before speaking again, and doesn’t miss the brief flash of worry in your eyes as you catch it.

“Thank you. For staying focused when you needed to and not losing your head.” he says, as his thumb strokes your cheek. “You’re so good to me. I wouldn’t have taken it half as well.” A deep exhale leaves you; you’ve been shed of an enormous weight as you give him a peck on the lips.

“And thank you. For not getting too worked up about what blondie said earlier about me being a nervous wreck about it.” you reply, grateful he was as understanding of your feelings as you had hoped.

He scrunches his face for a moment, trying to figure out what you were referring to; when the cook runs his mouth during their arguments, he usually ends up tuning most of it out or forgetting it immediately after. When he finally recalls it, just shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. The shitty cook is always making mountains out of molehills.”

His mouth still tastes like the grainy aftertaste of sake, and you feel yourself getting drunk on it. The grip on your hips tightens, as if he’s afraid you’ll evaporate into thin air if he lets go. He’s careful not to mess up your hair like he usually would as he deepens the kiss, giving you a slight bite on your lower lip when he finally pulls back.

“Got something for you.” he says softly, pulling a tiny, drawstring bag out of his pocket and placing it in your hand. Inside is a necklace—a thin, gold chain with a tiny, diamond pendant cut in the shape of a heart.

“A promise.” he says, “That whatever happens in the future, wherever I go, you’re coming with me.”

Speechless, you’re incapable of doing anything but smiling as he hooks the clasp around your neck; the light brush of his fingers on your neck sends tingles down your spine.

“Couldn’t get you a ring.” he says with a smirk. “Would mess up your grip on your knives again after we spent all that time fixing it.” You giggle in response, voice hitching a bit as you’re overcome by emotion.

“I love you so much, Zoro.” you say, gazing at him with that dreamy haze in your eyes that drove him wild.

“I love you too.” he replies, pulling you in for a kiss, finally allowing himself to let go and start to run his hands through your hair.

Nami had dressed you up so beautifully for him, like a gift to be carefully undone, but right now, basking in the glow of your love, he just couldn’t help but want to rip through the wrapping paper.

#one piece x reader #x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #ask

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kankrivantas69420lmao · 10 months

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Hello everybody here's Annie to tell you (ramble to you) ab the ballad of jane doe!!!

first off, I've heard some people say that it should be "Jane Doe's Lament" and "The Ballad of Monique Gibeau", since a ballad tells a story, and to lament is to feel pain, agony, etc, but i think that is WRONG. Bc as Karnak states, the entire point of the show is to give them the chance to express what they wish they were, not what they were perceived as. a ballad tells a story. Jane wanted a story. Noel wanted tragedy. I think the titles fit them very well. Anyways, let me tell u ab some lyric choices that I luv sm bc this entire musical is a lyrical work of art. Ok first first!!! Lots of people get confused by the beginning of the song, but I think it makes sense if you've seen or read Legoland, because penny was unhappy with life, she had a realistic point of view, she always knew she would die one day, she is just lamenting (ba-dum tsss) the fact that she can't remember who she is. Another thing I like is that in fall fair suite when she does her screaming thing they're all spinning around and she's repeating the same notes bc its like she's swirling around them, but in her song it just represents falling straight down. Another thing is the next bit where she references Saint Peter, who is the guy who judges souls and decides if they were good or bad or wtv. I like this part bc the way she says it so desperately is that she doesn't care if she was a horrible person, she just longs to know who she is. "And from the ground, beneath my feet" this line is more evidence that penny was still dying after the rest of the choir was already dead, disproving the theory that penny was dead before everyone else. One of my favorites bc it has so many ways it could be interpreted, "a choir never complete." There are a few things I think it means. 1. She lost her head, this can be either metaphorical (referring to the "head voice" which is a way one can sing) or literal (since one of penny's body parts is missing, they can never reunite the entire choir.) 2. Penny was the only soprano. It's clear that Ocean's actor has a wide vocal range when you hear her sing in the background of other songs, but whenever she sings as Ocean, she mostly stays in alto range, meaning penny would have been the only soprano in the choir, and the choir isn't complete without their soprano. 3. Since it's implied that penny joined the choir at the last minute, she never got to perform with them, they were never complete. This is my favorite bc it shows up multiple times!!!! "An old forgotten tune, a song that no one knows, forgot how it goes" any time she references a song, the song she's talking about is penny. In Legoland, penny has a quote something along the lines of "Im just one song in a big symphony." (I can't remember the full quote right now.) She's saying that penny is forever forgotten. "Why be left with no family and no friends?" In this part in the musical, the choir covers their faces. None of them know who Jane is. "Time eats all his children in the end." This is a reference to Kronos, who is sometimes associated with time, and is known for eating his children. It's also a reference to earlier in the musical when she talks about lions eating their children. "A melody floats through the air, when silence falls, does no one care?" Going back to what I said earlier, the melody is penny. When penny dies, silence falls. The melody stops. But there's no one to care. "Another sad forgotten tune, another song that no one knows, so that's how it goes!" I like to think that she's talking about Jane now. Jane is the other song, but they know how that song goes already!! So, that's how it goes. "No one to sing, no one to sigh" here, she's saying that when people hear a Jane Doe body was discovered, people are obviously sad, but nobody can say "Hey, that's somebody i know." "Isn't there anyone to tell me who I am?" Penny is Christian, so she was probably expecting to go to heaven and see her relatives who could identify her. "Just a sorry speculation" bc Jane's entire existence is a speculation. Nobody knows who she is.

Thank you :]

#The ballad of jane doe #Ride the cyclone musical #Emily Rohm #Jane doe #Jane doe rtc #I love jane doe guys #If you had to guess who would you say my fav character is #It's jane #Rtc musical

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caffeinejournalist23 · 1 year

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What Sex and The City Did & Didn't Teach Me About Love - Part 2: True Love Amongst Friends

With my move to the Big Apple and the next big chapter of my life approaching soon, I've had a renewed appreciation for my friends.

Lately I've been remembering that gap year I took before going to college, when art school broke my heart and I trapped in my mother's cruel cold house, working two full time jobs with part-time pay and no benefits, working at one place at 4am and the working the next one til 10pm.

The biggest thing I remember during that year was my loneliness; I remember thinking "oh yay! in college I can make friends and maybe find my future husband and reintroduce myself however I want to because nobody knows me." I remember crying myself to sleep, having no one to talk to about my traumas and the issues with my mom - instead I worked 60+ hours a week to try to get away from it all and avoid the realizations. I don't remember if I had any days off really, just shortened days. I remember how I longed for somebody to talk to; I would attempt to film cringe story-times for YouTube and instead rambled into my microphone for 45+ minutes. I remember posting on Snapchat and wishing I had someone to tag, or wishing I could go back through Snap Memories to rewatch fun moments with friends I could send those snaps to. I remember resenting those online who gushed and cried over their incredible online friends. I remember feeling so afraid to ask work friends to hang out and the pain of never being invited out when they got drinks on Cinco de Mayo or hosted gift exchanges or tried a new coffee spot in town.

Now, I have such lovely friends. There's a quote from Winnie the Pooh that says something to the tune of "how lucky am I to have such good friends that make saying goodbye so hard." I've been feeling that a lot lately. Thankfully I was born in the era of social media, so it's easier than ever to keep in contact with friends all across the globe. And my girlies know this too - we'll only be a facetime call away, a Snapchat message apart, the distance of a text message.

But it'll never be the same as all those times we ran to Walmart on nothing but crackhead energy and a dying will to live, or the many homework and study sessions we had over Instagrammable coffees and over-priced pizza, or the late-night talks that gave us much-needed epiphanies at 4am, or the last-minute favors for final projects, or the birthday dinners, or the talks in the car in front of my apartment to dump childhood trauma, or the cooking shows only performed for each other, or the sitting across from each other in the hall crying because we have exams next week and in another life we might've been Broadway stars, or the hangover brunches, or the bimbo drives to who-knows-where, or the TikToks we shared that made us laugh until our stomachs hurt, or the comfort and desperation to help each other, or the occasional shy admiration and love we'd admit we felt for each other when the exhaustion or alcohol hit the weak spot in the wall we kept up over our heart.

In Sex and the City, the girls are talking about the idea of soulmates, and Charlotte says that, though often "soulmates" are thought to be romantic relationships, it's perfectly fair and honest for them as friends to consider each other soulmates.

Before I started college (and therapy) I tended to think that the most powerful love was the love shared between spouses; best friends, partners, lovers. I was anxious for a relationship because I wanted to experience love - I wanted to love someone and be loved just as much back.

Literally an hour ago, I realized that I have that beautiful experience right now; I truly deeply genuinely love my friends.

I love how Panda's life may be a literal MTV show full of drama and chaos, but no matter what she'll always hope the best for you and be your biggest cheerleader. I love how Minimom's presence alone says she cares about you because honestly if she didn't like you she wouldn't be in the same room as you because she'd rather stay at home. I love how Bambi will always make you feel special, whether you're her identical twin or the polar opposite extreme of her. I love how Barbie tells a story and it doesn't feel like she does it just to be heard but to also value you as a listener. I love how Picasso will gush over the dream for you when you're scared to chase it. I love how Dr Doolittle comes up to hug you when you're emotionally exhausted because just by looking at you she knows you need it. I love how Ariel won't make you feel bad for overeating or struggling with body dysmorphia or secretly wishing you could punch a certain person in the face. I love how Gem will encourage and support you without pitying you. I love how Pip feels a genuine joy in your happiness and dram-chasing. I love how BeerBabe hasn't hung out with you very much but will make you feel like you've been buddies for years. I love how Abbott is soft-spoken but says some very powerful things that confirm that she hears you and values what you have to say. I love how Poison Ivy will still remember the fun y'all had even months and several life-changing events later like you can pick up right where you left off.

And as purely as I love them.. they love me just as much back.

They forgive me when I go hours or days or weeks or months without a reply because life threw me into a tidal wive. They cry when I cry and don't make me feel weak for it. They celebrate my victories, expecting nothing in return. They see me authentically and make sure to show me how much they accept me. They encourage me to grow, dream, and pursue. They get excited and joyous when I am like the joys are their own. They don't judge me. They don't feel an entitlement to control me. They want to see me win like it's their own race.

They love me.

They've changed my life.

They're the kind of friends I'd take a bullet for, the kind of friends I'd go through all of my traumas all over again for - if it meant befriending them again and knowing them the way that I do now.

In my gap year before college, I cried, desperately hoping my lonely heart would be put back together by the right person.

Right now, 5 weeks before college graduation, I cry because I have angels for friends who make my heart swell and make moving on to the next part of my life so glorious and also so hard.

#coffeegirl #coffeegirlaesthetic #caffeinejournalist #friends #bffs <3 #bff shit #true friendship #love quotes #lovefriendship #soulmates #gal pals

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noriyoshi · 3 years

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vibez. - pjh (m)

pairing: jihoon x fem!reader

genre: smut

word count: 4.8k

warnings: oral (f-receiving), use of a vibrator, exhibitionism, teasing, explicit language, explicit sexual intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it!),

synopsis: Jihoon makes you wear a vibrator and teases you throughout the day as punishment for teasing him in front of Yoshi.

a/n: i’m new here and i suddenly got inspired to write this overnight so i hope u guys enjoy it! any feedback is always appreciated ^__^ not proofread atm

“Be good for me,” Jihoon says as his fingers lightly brush over your slit. You were wet long before Jihoon began to touch you. The amount of arousal Jihoon collects just from a slight brush against your lower lips would be embarrassing had he not been so turned on by it.

There is nothing Jihoon loves more than seeing you unravel underneath him. Your eyes are screwed shut and your lip trembles from between your teeth. You’re trying hard to focus on how Jihoon is touching you. He likes when you watch him. He wants you to see every little thing he does to you. Yet, you can’t help the way your eyes shut as he teases your entrance, finger prodding slightly only to return to his teasing. He’s turned to rubbing circular motions, applying a heavenly pressure onto your clit before dragging his fingers back down. He repeats the action a few more times, smirking when you start to buck your hips.

“Ah,” he tsks. “What did I tell you?”

“S-sorry,” you mumble, a cute pout sitting on your lips. “I’ll behave.”

“Thanks doll,” he kisses the inside of your thighs softly, inching his way inward towards where you needed him most. “See, I really wish this didn’t have to be a punishment.” Jihoon sighs, eyes staring at your core with hunger. He wants nothing more than to devour you, to make you cum over and over and over again. He makes a tentative swipe through your folds with his tongue, moaning at the taste. Your whimper sounds like music to his ears and he painfully wishes he could hear it all day. “But you won’t learn anything if I don’t teach you a lesson.”

He finally pushes a finger in, thrusting it in and out slowly before adding a second.

“B-but,” you choke when his fingers start to curl. “P-please” you whine. “I’ll be good, I-I-I’m sorry. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“I disagree,” he scissors his fingers inside of you, taking his time to stretch you open. Jihoon’s pace is tantalizing. Slow and steady, as if you both don’t have classes to attend in half an hour. You haven’t even left your dorm yet. But Jihoon doesn’t seem to be worried about that. No, his mind is more preoccupied with something else. “I think this will be a good punishment for you.”

With his unoccupied hand, he pats around the bed until his hand finds the object he was looking for. He stops the fluid motion of his fingers and pulls them out, tapping your clit lightly before he sits up to show you the object.

“What is it?” you grab the bulbous, pink object and examine it with wide eyes.

“A vibrator.” he states simply. “A remote controlled vibrator that you will be wearing until I come pick you up from class.”

“Jihoon-” you begin to protest.

“This is your punishment.” he gives you a look as to not argue.

“But what if someone hears?” you mutter quietly, cheeks dusted pink at the thought of someone knowing what you’re up to.

“Well, this baby is quiet, so no one will hear or know a thing so long as you’re quiet too.”

“But-but, that’s not fair.”

“You misbehaving and teasing me in front of Yoshi wasn’t fair either, princess. Now lay back so I can put this in.”

You shuffle back onto the bed, spreading your legs open enough for Jihoon. He subconsciously licks his lips as he stares at your still glistening pussy. He presses a button near the front of the vibrator and it comes to life. Much to your surprise, it’s not vibrating like you thought it would be. Jihoon resumes his position between your legs, pressing his fingers into you once more to make sure the vibrator will fit. He uncaps the lube sitting on the desk near your bed. Your arousal is surely more than enough for an easy slide but Jihoon is precautionary and makes sure to cover the foreign object well before pressing it to your entrance.

“Relax, baby,” he coaxes, his lips kissing your thighs again as he pushes in the bulbous end of the vibrator. After the initial stretch, it rests comfortably inside you. Jihoon sits up and massages your thighs comfortingly before pressing a quick peck to your lips. “Perfect,”

You pull up your skirt and panties and stand. Your legs are a bit wobbly, but you think you can manage. The vibrator itself isn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it doesn’t help with the feeling of arousal that’s still ever so present. You wonder what the purpose of the vibrator is if Jihoon’s not even gonna turn it on. As if he’s reading your mind, Jihoon picks up his phone and says, “Now we test it.”

You look at him curiously as he unlocks his phone and swipes through until he presumably finds what he’s looking for. Moments later you feel the unforgiving vibrations rumbling to life. The toy vibrates quickly, repeatedly pulsating in all the right spots. You moan aloud, unable to control yourself at the incredible feeling. You push your legs together, eager to relieve yourself when Jihoon turns it off, leaving you whining and unsatisfied.

“It works.” He smiles devilishly. He picks up his backpack and walks out the room, headings towards the front door where his shoes are. You rush after him, snatching your phone off the desk and your backpack off the floor. You shut the lights to your room off and slam the door behind you. “Jihoon, you’re just gonna leave me like this? All day?”

“Not all day babe, don’t be silly. It’s just a couple of hours.” he opens the door and waits for you to walk out before shutting and locking it behind you.

“Jihoon,” you whine quietly, tugging on his hand.

“End of discussion, now let’s go. I don’t wanna be late.” he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers as you begin your walk towards class and begin the dreadful day.

Jihoon fills the walk to class with meaningless chatter, excitedly talking about a prank he had pulled on Junkyu not long ago and how now they were preparing for an assignment together so Junkyu’s set on getting his revenge. You giggle at the thought of Junkyu trying to get back at Jihoon. Ever since you had first met the pair, it seemed that despite their friendly nature, they were quite competitive. Especially with each other. You can’t imagine what Junkyu is gonna try to do next.

As much as you love to hear about their shenanigans, your mind can’t help but wander back to your punishment. More so, to how Jihoon seems to not be affected by his ministrations this morning. Sometimes you can’t help but be astounded at the amount of self control Jihoon exhibits. He could touch you for hours without so much as even thinking about himself, no matter how much it turns him on. You know Jihoon must be suffering just as much as you are, but he hides it behind his bright eyes and pretty smile. Ugh.

Before you could give it another thought, you arrive at your first class of the day. Jihoon kisses you softly, bidding you a good day. His eyes twinkled with mischief before he simply turned around and walked off towards his destination. You didn’t stick around to watch him, your mind set on focusing and getting through the day.

You’re about halfway through your first period and you’ve completely gotten your mind off of this morning’s situation. Your teacher has split you into groups to have a short discussion session. You’re midway through your sentence when suddenly the vibrator roars to life. You choke, fanning your face at the realization of what’s happening.

“Are you okay?” your classmate asks as she pats you on the back. You nod, uncapping your water bottle and bringing it to your lips. The water is refreshing but does very little to distract from the problem happening in your panties. You struggle to finish your point, rambling as you try to rapidly finish so that someone else can talk. Once all sets of eyes are off of you, you scan your classroom, wondering if perhaps Jihoon hadn’t headed to class like he said he would. He couldn’t have timed something so well if he weren’t in the same room as you but when your eyes fail to lock with his, you turn back to the discussion. You catch parts of the statements from your classmates but overall begin to tune them out.

Eventually, the attention is back on your professor but the feeling in between your legs isn’t getting any duller. If anything, it feels like each vibration is a new sparkler and the higher Jihoon turns it up, the closer they are to igniting and popping off in a beautiful array of fireworks. You lay your head down, as Jihoon slowly heightens the level of pressure between your legs. Keeping quiet proves difficult when Jihoon changes the pattern, an entirely new sensation that has you biting your arm in an attempt to keep your classmates from noticing the lewd thing going on right next to them.

You can feel yourself on the brink of orgasm when suddenly it stops. Unintentionally, you bang your fist on the table. It’s loud enough to draw the attention of your professor who asks, “Is there a problem?” She stares directly at you with an unsatisfied look. You sit up quickly, attempting to make yourself presentable and kept. “N-no ma’am. Sorry.” you mumble. She raises an eyebrow before turning her attention back to the lesson.

God, this is so embarrassing. Jihoon would be laughing his ass off right now if he saw this.

Little did you know, Jihoon has been sitting in the back of the classroom watching you attentively all this time.

He had gone to class like he said he would. Only thing is, he got bored halfway through. It was too hard to focus on the lesson when there was something much harder between his legs to focus on. He had done his best to ignore it; acting nonchalant was his best bet at getting you as needy and desperate as he wanted. But after all, he isn’t immune to you. How could he possibly remain unaffected when you have the most melodious sounds he’s ever heard. Every moan, whine, and whimper goes straight to his cock and has him hard without you so much as touching him. It makes him swell with pride knowing he’s the one pulling all these beautiful noises from you.

And god this morning when he was getting you all ready for your punishment, it took everything in him not to devour you. Your glimmering wet pussy was just begging for Jihoon to eat it out. Just the one flick of his tongue through your folds had him nearly abandoning the punishment completely. You taste like heaven and Jihoon can never get enough of it. Then, lord when he began to stretch you open.. He wanted nothing more than to inch his cock inside you slowly until you’re completely full of him and then fuck you relentlessly until the only thing you can cry out is Jihoon, Jihoon, Jihoon. He’s amazed how after he’s fucked you so many times, you’re still as tight as ever, fitting him like a glove. He almost groans thinking about how badly he wants to be buried deep inside of you right now.

But he can’t.

So he slips out of his class and takes the trek back to your classroom, sneaking in through the back doors to watch. From his position at the top of the stairs, he can see you perfectly while he remains hidden from your detection.

Like most college courses he’s been in, a majority of the students are sitting near the back which happens to be very convenient for him. He takes a seat and leans away from the student sitting two desks over. He lays his phone down face up on his desk and watches as the professor speaks. Soon after she breaks the class into groups for discussion. He pretends to join a group near him, sitting in on their conversation as they begin their discussion. Once your attention is on your group mates he slides the little emoticon up about halfway. He can’t help but laugh at your reaction. He turns back to face his group mates upon seeing your head turn in his direction. Oh, this is gonna be good.

Near the end of your first period, he heads outside to wait for you where he normally would. When your eyes land on him he’s scrolling through his phone. He looks up to see you stomping over, an endearing smile takes over his face.

“Hey babe, how was class?”

“Don’t hey babe me!” you mimic, jamming your pointer finger into his chest.

“What did I do?” he laughs, putting his hands up in defense.

“You-ugh! It was so embarrassing,” you walk away.

Jihoon jogs up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Oh no, did something happen?” he feigns innocence.

“You’re just gonna laugh at me if I tell you.” you pout.

“I swear I won’t.” he replies but you can already sense the teasing tone in his voice.

You recount the embarrassing story with your teacher to which Jihoon cracks up laughing. “You said you wouldn’t laugh!” you protest, pushing him away though a small smile creeps onto your face.

“I’m sorry! It’s just- that’s hilarious.” he continues laughing.

“Jihoon!”

“Why so embarrassed, baby?” he’s stuck to your side again, this time his lips are pressed against your ear as he whispers. “You scared you’re gonna let everyone know how good I make you feel even when I’m not there? Hm?” he teases. “Or are you just saving all your pretty noises just for me?”

To any passerby, you’d look like any other couple who’re trapped in their own little world. No one would suspect something not so innocent from either of you. Which is why Jihoon takes this opportunity to turn up the vibrator again, this time to a much higher setting.

You gasp, looking around you before turning to face your boyfriend, hiding your face in his neck. “Aw, c’mon baby, is it that bad?”

You can’t find it in you to respond. Your hands clutch Jihoon’s biceps as you moan right into his ear. Your legs are starting to feel wobbly, the familiar feeling in your stomach is starting to build up again. Your breathing becomes more erratic. You try to keep quiet as Jihoon aids you to your next class but you can barely put one leg in front of the other.

“Fuck,” Jihoon mutters when you moan again, your fingernails digging into his arm. His poor baby is so close to falling apart right in front of him. He turns the vibrator off again and the sound you emit almost has him feeling sorry enough to turn it back on and let you cum right there.

“Please. Jihoon, please. Let me cum, I’m begging.” you whimper quietly.

“Sorry, babe. Rules are rules and you have to learn to follow them.”

Your pussy clenches around the toy listlessly, chasing an orgasm that will no longer come. It’s only been an hour and yet you know your panties are wet beyond repair. Jihoon pecks your forehead before turning you around towards the direction of the door down the hall and smacking your butt lightly.

If the first period was a teaser for what you’d be in for, your next two periods would be unforgiving.

—

Unforgiving they were. Jihoon really knew how to get you at the worst times. You’d been so close to coming only to be left high and dry so many times it was starting to hurt. By the end of your last period you were wet and delirious. You had stopped focusing on the class material a long time ago, your mind only caring about one thing and one thing only.

As you stepped out of your last class of the day, you didn’t bother to greet Jihoon, opting to grab his hand and drag him back to your dorm with you instead. He says nothing but follows your lead, enthused by your eagerness.

From the moment the door to your dorm room closes, your lips are on his. Jihoon may be letting you take the lead now, but don’t think for a second you’re in control. You’re still on punishment and he’ll make sure you don’t forget that.

You make your way down the hall to your own room and close that door too. You thank the heavens that by now most of the residents of your hall have cleared out for spring break. Jihoon is the king of telling you to keep quiet and yet fucking you so hard it’s nearly impossible. You’ve gotten a few noise complaints so you’re glad you can avoid one this time around.

As soon as you make it to the bed he pulls you onto his lap, his lips attached to yours in a feverish kiss. One hand holds you by the small of your back, the other hand holding the back of your neck, pushing you into him. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, holding yourself steady. Once your pace is set, his hands drop to your ass, controlling your hips as you grind down on him.

You’ve soaked through your panties to the point that Jihoon can feel your arousal seeping onto his lap. He groans into your mouth at the feeling. As he kissed you, you melted into him, feeling light headed from how aroused you were. Eventually, his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring every crevice it could. You hold each other tightly, as if letting go for even one second will make the euphoric feeling disappear. The longer you kissed each other, the needier your touching got.

You could feel how hard Jihoon was now, his length sliding against your folds deliciously despite the amount of fabric between you. You wanted to quicken your pace, to finally chase the orgasm you’ve been after all day, but Jihoon is pressing into your hips so tightly it’s nearly impossible. He’ll surely leave a mark.

He begins to nip at the junction of your shoulder, biting down softly before cooling off the burn with his warm tongue.

“Have I learned my lesson now?” you rasp. You tilt your head back to give Jihoon better access to your neck. He continues to press open-mouthed kisses to your chest, leaving light marks all over it.

“For now.” he replies. Before you could ask what he meant, Jihoon tugs at your shirt, asking for you to pull it off. You comply and toss it off to the side. Jihoon follows suit, taking his off without you having to ask. He likes to think it makes you feel more comfortable if you’re both equally undressed. Small things like these remind you how considerate and sweet Jihoon is underneath his mischief and dominance.

He doesn’t spend too much time licking and sucking at your chest; his main focus for the night being the ever growing arousal between your legs. He kisses his way down your stomach and flips your skirt up. You lift your hips up slightly so you can bunch the skirt around your waist and Jihoon takes the opportunity to run a finger through the wet spot on your undies.

He peels them off and bunches them up as well, stuffing them into his back pocket.

He pulls the toy out slowly, reveling in your whine at the emptiness. He’s in love with the way your pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled. But before he gives in to his biggest desire, it’s only right for him to finish what he started this morning.

“So wet,” he mutters more to himself than to you. “All this for me?” he takes two of his fingers to spread your lower lips apart. He takes a moment to admire it, insanely turned on by how wet you’ve gotten over a couple of hours. He’s going to enjoy this.

You look down between your legs to see Jihoon’s eyes fixated on your core. “Stop being weird and do something,” you complain, bucking your hips up. He tears his gaze away, now looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t think you should be talking like that to the person who decides when and if you get to cum.” he states flatly.

“S-sorry.” you reply quickly. “I just- I need you so so badly. Please do something, please.”

Jihoon decides to take pity on you. “Oh, look how needy my baby is,” he coos. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna eat that pretty pussy of yours soon.”

He drags a finger through your folds slowly, admiring how it glimmers when the light catches it. He sucks your essence off his finger before repositioning himself on the bed, his face coming down to your drenched pussy lips.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

You’ve gotten this far and he still asks if you’re sure. As sweet as he is, you scoff, wanting nothing more than for him to just get on with it. “Yes.” you answer with an annoyed tone.

He chuckles but obliges. Moments later, you feel his hot tongue lick a stripe up your slit.

“Oh my god,” you cry out.

His tongue dove in, lapping at your folds restlessly. To say Jihoon is greedy and impatient wouldn’t be wrong. He generously licked, sucked, and slurped at your folds messily, occasionally flicking kitten licks at your clit for additional stimulation. Jihoon would stop at nothing to please you, even if that meant getting lockjaw. The thing about Jihoon is that he genuinely enjoys pleasing you (when you’re not misbehaving). He’s quick and skilled and he knows exactly what it takes to make you cum. Now, he doesn’t always take the faster route, oftentimes settling for taking his time because he could really spend the day doing this with no complaint.

You’re moaning and swearing, trying to keep your voice at bay but Jihoon can sense when you’re being too quiet. He wants you to be as loud as you want to be, as loud as you need, and sometimes he plays unfairly to get that. He buries his face in your folds and gets to work, eating you out as if you’re what he’s been craving yet so deprived of.

He brings his thumb to continuously circle over your clit while he hums and sucks and licks at your cunt. Soon enough you’re feeling the familiar heat all over your body and the coil in your stomach and this time Jihoon doesn’t let up.

“Jihoon, please.” you whine, grinding your face up against his lips.

“Please what, baby?” he pulls away. “Want me to stop?”

“No!” you say entirely too fast.

“Please don’t stop. I need to come.”

He returns to your center and laps until you’re convulsing around his tongue, shaking in pleasure and pulling away when he doesn’t let up. He holds your legs apart as you try to close them shut, not letting up for a moment even when you’re yanking at the strands of his hair, shuddering against him and grinding your pussy against his tongue until you’ve finally come down from your orgasm.

When he sits up again, he’s looking at you with a dazed yet happy smile. His lips are shimmering with your arousal and it makes your face flush worse than it already has.

“Can you go one more round for me, princess?” Jihoon asks. You’re exhausted from your long day of teasing but one look at your boyfriend throws that exhaustion out the window.

You answer by pulling him down into another lip-searing kiss. That’s all the answer he needs. He pulls away and unbuckles his pants, throwing the belt somewhere on the ground with a clink. Next, you sit up to unbutton his pants and help him shimmy out of them. Finally, all that’s left in the way are his briefs. He watches you closely as you palm him through his briefs. The groans and grunts he lets out are music to your ears. Jihoon is always about pleasing you and though he’s never against you reciprocating, you love when you get the chance to.

You’re getting into a rhythm when Jihoon’s hand covers yours, stopping you from stroking him any further.

“Not now. Wanna cum inside you.”

If you hadn’t still been so turned on that would have definitely done it.

He pulls his briefs down and you lick your lips subconsciously. His tip is already red and angry, precum oozing from the slit at the top, the vein leading down his cock to his balls looks delicious and you want to run your tongue all over it.

This time you switch positions. Jihoon slides over to your spot and scoots back until he’s against the wall. You basically jump on him, your legs settling on the outside of his thighs, straddling him once he’s comfortable.

“Still needy, huh? Don’t worry I’ll fuck that right out of you.” he teases, his hands trailing over your body before settling on your hips. You grab his dick and slideit against your folds teasingly.

“Oh,” he groans.

He holds you in place but gives you the free range to move. You slide his cock up and down your folds once more, pushing in, only slightly before pulling back out.

Fuck he thinks to himself.

You sink down further this time before pulling out again

“Don’t do that.” he warns.

“Or what?” you grin.

Once he’s sheathed inside of you, he stays still, reveling in the feeling of your warm walls as you clench around him. As you finally lift your hips to begin building a pace, Jihoon snaps his hips upward too. After a few tries, you’ve managed to build a good rhythm and he is thrusting right into the spot that makes your toes curl. He cries out at your action, a sound that’s like music to your ears. His hand immediately came down to smack your ass.

The sound of his cock driving deeply into your wet pussy echoes through your dorm. Now that you’re so acutely aware of how loud the sound resonates, you wonder if you can be heard outside these walls.

“My baby is so dirty, huh, taking my cock so easy. This cock was made for you, wasn’t it, baby?” he shifts beneath you, the new angle and his cock pistoning into you driving you closer to the edge.

You’re both covered in sweat from the exertion and your limbs are tired but you’re so close. So close. He groans and pulls out before finally picking up the pace, going almost ballistic as he fucks into you relentlessly. Nothing but the sound of skin-on-skin and loud, fervent noises fill the room.

“Fuck, yeah, I love it, holy shit-” you gasp, grasping his large hands with your small one.

You’re nearly crying out now, already feeling the tight coil in the pit of your stomach once again. You could feel his dick pulsing inside of you. He wasn’t going to last much longer and neither would you. His thrusts were getting sloppy but he wouldn’t let his pace up.

Involuntarily, you clench around Jihoon and it sends him over the edge. He’s spilling inside of you with a guttural groan. He doesn’t slow down as he rides out his orgasm, determined to get you there too. His finger thumbs over your clit harshly as you continue to clench around him.

You cum too, hips bucking and legs twitching as you cry out his name one last time. You’re holding on to his arms tightly, your nails digging crescent moons into his skin. Jihoon doesn’t mind though. Any scratch, hickey, or mark from you is something he’ll wear with pride.

You don’t want to get off his lap yet, you want his cum to settle inside of you for a while. Your head is tucked into his neck, eyes tempted to flutter closed as Jihoon traces patterns on your back listlessly. Jihoon himself is starting to doze off but he lifts you off of him with whatever strength he has left. You feel his cum trickling out of you and you crinkle your nose in disgust. Jihoon notices and pushes himself off of the bed, heading towards the bathroom to get a wet washcloth.

“Hey babe?” Jihoon calls out as he nears the door.

“Hm?” you mutter sleepily.

“I hope you don’t think your punishment is over,” he replies.

#treasure smut #park jihoon smut #jihoon smut #treasure #park jihoon #treasure imagines #treasure scenarios #jihoon imagines #jihoon scenarios #treasure jihoon

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ignitedbynatsu · 3 years

Text

He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Erik/Cobra

A/N: whoop whoop I finished it earlier than I thought 🥳 Here is the Corbra/Erik one as requested. Bikslow will be up next!! I also wanna take a moment to thank you all for the support on these series. I honestly thought nobody would answer or request anyone so thank you! As always let me know who you want me write for next! 💕

Warnings: insecurities (he makes you feel like you talk too much), cursing

genre: angst to fluff

Other versions:

Gray ~ Laxus ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Natsu ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Sting ~ Rogue

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

“I can’t believe Jellal told Erza he was engaged, like, is he serious right now? After everything, I’ve done to help him admit his feelings” You scoffed as you braided your hair in the bathroom while your boyfriend Eric was laying in bed, trying to read a book. “What happened to the once feared Jellal? Who would’ve thought he’d be such a wuss about it. All he had to do was close that one-centimetre gap, that’s all he had to do”

Unknowingly to you, Erik grew more and more irritated as you kept complaining about Jellal and Erza. He has had a long day and the way you were talking non-stop didn’t really help his growing headache.

“It’s actually rather sad because he thinks he doesn’t deserve her, but at the same time she doesn’t want anybody else than him-“ You got cut off by Erica who decided he had enough of your rambling “Can you shut for two seconds? You really do not have a clue how annoying it is to hear people’s inner thoughts all the time and then coming back to you who keeps complaining about anything everything, do you? I just need some peace and quiet, not you who's talking non-stop about stupid, useless things. If you can’t shut up, I’m leaving because I really don’t need this right now”

You were a bit taken back by his sudden outburst, but completely understood where he was coming from. It must be really overwhelming to always hear everyone around you. You couldn’t imagine how it must feel and felt like you were being extremely inconsiderate. You always ran your mouth ever since you were little, and you know it’d come to bite you in the ass at one point. You just never expected Erik to be the one to put you in your place. You had always found it so easy to talk to him, but apparently, it was more of a bother to him. You didn’t want that to cause any problems between the two of you, so you made a promise to yourself that you should start talking less, especially if Erik is around.

As for now you mumbled a soft apology before casting your shield magic on yourself. You had the ability to form any size of shields. Within that barrier no magic except for your own works. Not even Erik’s advanced hearing ability could pierce through the invisible wall.

You finished your braid before going to bed with your back facing him and thoughts swirling freely through your mind, not having to worry about bothering your boyfriend.

The next morning you woke up before your boyfriend as usual and quickly cast your shield around you again, wanting to give Erik the peace and quietness he deserves.

Jellal got intell of a new dark guild he wanted to deal with, so he had asked to meet up in the morning in your usual meeting spot. You woke your boyfriend carefully up before continuing your morning routine.

As Erik woke up, he notices how uncomfortable silence the house was. He didn’t hear your usual humming while you got ready nor did he hear your inner thoughts. He shook it off and blamed it on still being groggy from just waking up.

The two of you were soon ready and met up with the whole group to go to your next location.

You usually chatted carelessly away with Meredy while you were heading over to a new job, but now it seemed more of a one-sided conversation as you replied rather short whenever she asked you a question.

Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend who wondered what got into you. He had hardly heard you say a word today. He thought about the fight yesterday and guilt immediately started to sink in. Not only that, but he didn’t realize how hard his words must have come across until now. He was just frustrated and need a moment of silence. He didn’t realize how he hurt your feelings in the progress and felt stupid for only realizing it now.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” He tried to catch your attention to which you turned your head with a bright smile at him and your head slightly tilted to the side “can I ask you something?”

“We’re here” Jellal announced from the front of the group as he looked down on the guild.

“We’ll talk after this,” You said and kissed him on the cheek before joining the others, leaving Erik tailing behind the group with a frown. You never refused to talk. You even gossiped with Meredy while you were fighting others. Sometimes you even tried to talk to the bad guys if you had no one to talk to. His words had hit harder than he anticipated. He obeyed your wish and joined the others.

As the fight went on, you felt yourself grow more tired and tired by the minute as all your magic was slowly fading out of your body. Keeping up that shield on yourself seemed like a good idea at first especially since it didn’t take up that much magic in the short run. Combining your own shield with other shields to protect the others blind spot as well as fighting with your sword at the same time, piled on the already draining magic, leaving you with nothing left.

Erik sporadically heard your thoughts flooding back in his head, making him alarmed. His eyes scanned the area and found you desperately holding of your enemies with your sword with no sign of you using your shields.

He didn’t hesitate for a second as he ran his way over to you, poisoning every bad guy on the way. “Your magic is drained”

“Yeah,” you breathed as you leaned on him while he held you up with one arm. It broke him that even now you hardly dared to speak to him.

Erik made eye contact with Jellal who understood that you needed to get out of this situation before you got hurt “Leave to rest to us, we’ll handle it from here”

“Let’s go, we’re leaving,” Erik said as he picked you up in his arms before leaving the scene. Hoteye created a wall of dirt, making sure nobody would follow you. You wanted to protest but decided against it given your situation and your promise to yourself to talk less.

Once he made sure you two were far enough from the scene he propped you up against a tree and sat down next to you. Your head automatically found his shoulder, but you quickly lifted it up as you heard him heavily sigh. You looked at him with a questioning look. “Can you please stop trying to suppress your thoughts”

This made you even more confused “I thought you didn’t want my thoughts swimming 24/7 through your head?”

“I’m so sorry that I made you feel like that. That you felt like you had to form a shield around yourself just to give me some silence. I was frustrated and tired yesterday. I didn’t mean what I said. Not only that, but I didn’t even apologize for my actions afterwards. I should’ve realized sooner how bad my words would’ve affected you” He apologized as he took your hand in his and stared you directly in the eyes, showing how much he regretted his words.

“You shouldn’t apologize, you were right after all. I talk too much, and I never take your feelings into consideration when I ramble. It should be me apologizing” You said.

“No, hey, listen, that’s not true. You don’t talk too much. If there is only one sound I could listen for the rest of my life, it’s the sound of your voice. I love the sound of your laugh, the way you sing horribly out of tune with whatever song that pops up in your head, the way you just talk when you tell me what gossip Meredy heard this time. Your voice is like literal music to my ears, so please don’t ever cut me off from my favourite song again.” He said, making you tear up at his loved filled words.

You placed a soft kiss on his lips, breaking away once you ran out of breath and placing your forehead on his, “I’m sorry for not coming to you with my insecurities”

“Please let me in next time. I’ll gladly show how wrong those inner demons are” he kissed you again with all the love he could give.

“You see, Jellal! That’s how you get a girl!” You could Meredy say, making the two of you part away while laughter took over you.

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valberryy · 3 years

Text

good god, let me give you my life. — kaeya

another converted oc fic!!!! yes i have many kaeya thoughts....... and i missed this oc in particular QAQ anyways please accept this word vomit its like 2k words im sorry idk what possessed me

pairing: kaeya x fem!reader

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries + alcohol, light swearing (like, three instances max)

Kaeya had seen that doe-eyed look countless times before, but there was still something about the way your gaze burned almost incredulously into his own that made his smirk grow wider.

"Kaeya, you asshole!" you exclaimed, but your half-exasperated anger just made him laugh—by the Seven, you were even more fun to tease than Diluc!

"What's the rush?" he laughed, ignoring your hand on his chest to balance herself as you tiptoed to where he was holding your Vision right out of your reach. "Is widdle [Name] so scared of—"

You elbowed him in the gut at that, and his grip on your Vision wavered as he let out a pained oof. You pinned it back to where it normally hung, and a glance at your clothes—the buttoned up coat, the bags placed haphazardly on the ground next to your boots—was all it took for the lucidity to return to Kaeya's eyes.

"The others are waiting," you muttered, gaze downcast and cheeks flushed from the cold. Kaeya nodded. Wordlessly, you grabbed his hands and squeezed, ever so gently.

"I promise we'll come back to visit," you said. "And I'll write a lot."

Kaeya nodded again, a devious grin pulling at his lips but faltering at the edges. "When you do come back I'll ask Master Crepus to throw a party and I'll read out your letters for everyone to hear—"

"You—!"

"...So come back safe, okay?"

A sigh, then, and another light squeeze of his hands.

"I promise."

With that, Kaeya finally let you go—and already missing the warmth of your palms and the fleetingness of your touch, he watched as your back disappeared off into the horizon.

Kaeya often found himself waiting, those days, to the point that he might have called himself distracted if he hadn't known any better. The smile that graced his lips at each letter—which always started with your and your brother's neat handwriting, with little comments from your sister sprinkled all throughout, and sealed with some local flower or other—never failed to go unnoticed, to the point that even Diluc found himself sighing at the sight.

"You're an idiot," he had said, and nothing else.

Each year your visits had become a staple of summer, and for days on end Master Crepus' manor was filled with foreign music and dance. Kaeya never read out your letters like he said he would, but you two would always sneak out of the party with a bottle of champagne, and you would whisper gossip to each other like you always used to, conspiratory and scheming.

(Once, just as a laugh was about to spill from his lips, you placed your palm over the lower half of his face and kissed the back of your hand. "I thought you were bolder than that," he teased, and with a scoff you plucked the bottle from his hands.

"Oh? I'd like to see you do better, lover boy.")

One year the letters stopped, and you never came to visit. Winter came all too soon. The calla lilies in your last letter had begun to wilt.

The next year, he and Diluc parted ways. As their swords clashed for the last time, he wished it was your flames that had scorched him instead.

Two years hence, the Knights of Favonius found a young woman, half-conscious and all but bleeding out, under the tree at Windrise.

Kaeya had stopped in his tracks when he heard, his silver tongue going dry behind the calm smile he put on. "Thanks for the news," he told his subordinate. "I'll check it out."

As soon as he was alone, he let the panic sink in.

His walk to the cathedral was exceedingly brief, and Kaeya wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing. As he walked towards the infirmary he heard Barbara's voice—

"...but do you remember anything else?"

A pause, then a blunt, "No."

—And as he walked inside he saw the deaconess with her tome, and a little ways behind her was...you. You seemed a little pale and worse for wear, but when you looked at him with the same doe-eyed look as before, Kaeya couldn't help but feel the slightest bit relieved.

"You really worried me back there, love," he said smoothly. "How are you feeling now?"

You glanced almost unnoticeably at Barbara, who seemed to mouth something along the lines of, "Later."

"Alive, I guess," you responded, then paused for a good moment as you glanced at him fully. Kaeya raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry…" you said, "It's just that I've heard so much about you, but—"

But what? he thought, and felt his blood run cold again.

"—I have no idea who you are."

—

Kaeya thought it the worst of cruelties for you to be so similar to your old self, yet so wholly, horribly different. You walked with the same languid grace, spoke with the same haughtiness and pride, still tapped your teaspoon against the rim of your teacup—three times, every single time, with a resounding chime.

But you no longer looked at him the same, no longer laughed at his old jokes, no longer called him by his name. It was always captain or sir, and never what he so desperately longed to hear.

"You Knights are always so ineffective," Diluc sighed, and for the first time in years the Ragnvindr brothers finally found themselves in agreement.

Kaeya laughed self-pityingly, running one hand through his hair and using the other to swirl the contents of his half-empty glass. Another sigh, and just as he was about to speak again, the door to Angel's Share opened to the sound of laughter.

"Venti, I said no—"

"Oh, come on! All you've been doing is reading that journal of yours! I thought you—"

There was an indignant, ungraceful sounding yell, and the rest of Venti's words were muffled by what Kaeya assumed was your hand. You two whispered together some more—he even thought he heard you threaten him, if he wasn't mistaken—and with your defeated sigh, Venti began to tune his lyre.

Ah, you was going to dance, then.

Kaeya turned in his seat to the point where he could watch them from the corner of his vision, taking another drink from his steadily-emptying glass. With gentle hands, the bard began to pluck at his lyre strings, and with the same practiced, precise movements he committed so dearly to memory, your body began to sway.

He knew this one—it started off slowly, gently, only to speed up as the music did as well. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three-four, went your heels against the wooden floor, and as the song ended and you bowed with a haughty flourish, Kaeya had abruptly stood up and left the tavern.

Your steps were light against the cobblestone when you caught up with him, that same night.

"Captain," you said, "you've been avoiding me."

He turned around to face you, a practiced smile on his lips. He couldn't look you in the eyes, though, no matter how intensely your gaze burned into him. "Oh? What might you be doing out so late, Miss [Surname]?"

You sighed, placing a hand on your hip. "You knew me before, right? That's why you keep running away?"

Kaeya's tongue went dry as he heard you speak. Ah, what does he say to this? He watched you sigh again, but this time you brought out the musty old journal that he knew hung from your waist.

You held it out to him expectantly, but he didn't take it.

"...We knew each other," he eventually replied, soft and without any of his normal bravado. "We were…close."

Your face remained impassive, but there was a glint in your eyes that gave your suspicion away. "...I see," you said. "Then…I want to start again. I can't be the person you knew before, but…"

It was Kaeya who sighed this time, endearingly. "You really haven't changed," he said, before holding out a hand for you to shake. "Allow me to reintroduce myself, then. Kaeya Alberich, at your service."

You smiled, and he felt his heart flutter and ache alike at the sight. Taking his hand, you said, "[Name] [Surname]…a pleasure it is to finally know you, Kaeya."

—

Whenever dusk fell, Kaeya would often find you at one of the many taverns littered throughout the city, but your favourite seemed to be the Angel's Share, of all places. If you weren't dancing along to whatever tune the bard was singing, you were often talking with Diluc from the opposite end of the bar, sipping from your glass of wine.

And whenever Kaeya would walk in you would turn to him and raise your glass in greeting, crowing something or other about coincidence, and he would say something or other about fate; and then you would drink together as his brother grew increasingly exasperated at the volume.

One evening, he had lost track of how many rounds he had when his head began to grow fuzzy. He was only half-conscious of Charles' sigh, and you saying something along the lines of, "I'll bring him home."

With practiced ease—likely from your time hanging around with that drunkard bard—you lifted him up and slung his arm around your shoulders, struggling a bit from his height. "C'mon, captain, let's get you home," you said, to which he merely nodded and buried his face in the warmth of the crook of your neck.

"Y'know, it was always you getting wasted like this," he drawled. "Master Crepus used to—! He used to always scold us for stealing wine, but you were always half passed out so you never heard any of it."

You looked down, seemingly deep in thought. "It sounds like we were very close," you said, and he chuckled and hummed in the affirmative.

He began rambling again as you made the short walk to his house, continuing even as you dug through his pockets for his keys. How he still reads your letters, how you made fun of his eyepatch the very first time he wore it, how you two used to climb the tree at Windrise, hoping always, in vain, to somehow reach the highest bough. If he were less shitfaced and more sober perhaps he would have found it in himself to stem the waterfall of words spilling from his lips—honest and raw in a way neither of you were used to—but as it stood, all he could have done was bare his heart to you like this.

You were silent as you laid him down on his bed, mumbling more to yourself than to anyone else, "You need to drink water, Kaeya."

The silence between you hung heavy like a body on the gallows.

"I really loved you, you know."

Another pause, then, and then the soft caress of your palm against his cheek, and the lightest brush of your lips against his forehead.

"...Good night, Kaeya."

The next day, Kaeya woke up with the worst bitch of a migraine he's ever had in his life. As he rose to get a glass of water, he suddenly became aware of several things: firstly, the fact that he was a fucking idiot; second, the fact that he needs to get black-out drunk less often; and third, the fact that you were lying asleep on his couch, your journal in one hand and your other arm hanging off the side.

He sighed, placing down the empty glass, and walked over to you—and with your same gentleness from the night before, Kaeya brushed aside your bangs to press a kiss to your forehead.

—

"Snrk—you what?"

"Oh, yes, and then after that Jean said—"

You cut off the rest of his story by shoving a piece of meat in his mouth, and when Kaeya managed to swallow it he was met with the sight of your smug smile and your eyes still bleary from laughing.

"There's no way all of that happened because of a rabbit," you said, to which he laughed good-naturedly, followed by a sip from his glass of wine.

"You'd be surprised what kinds of things Klee can get herself into."

You laughed again, and he took another drink of wine. Ah, he missed this, he thought. Missed the way the breeze here at Windrise smelled of asters, missed the way the moonlight trickled down through the leaves of the giant tree.

(Most of all, he missed the little way your nose would crinkle when you laughed, but he'd prefer not to say that aloud, lest he be hit over the head with the wine bottle he brought along today—amnesia or not, he knew very well it was still within your strength to do so.)

Kaeya watched as you closed your eyes to enjoy the evening breeze, your hair like a wildfire in the breeze. You looked at him then, your eyes heavy with a certain lucidity that he couldn't name, but still managed to shake him somehow.

"...I'm in love with you, Kaeya."

When he smirked and said, "So I get to brag that I made you fall for me twice?" he was met with the same indignant, doe-eyed glare from all those years ago.

"I'm being serious!" you exclaimed, but he only laughed again, and covered your mouth with the palm of his hand. Before you could protest again, he kissed the back of his own hand and pulled away, a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Where'd all that bravado go, Mr. Casanova?"

Kaeya was hit with a pang of nostalgia, then. He looked at you, cheeks lightly flushed from the cold breeze and embarrassment alike, and his smile only widened further.

"Hmm? Think you can do any better, dearest?"

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya x reader #bee writes

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blossomingimagines · 3 years

Text

Requiem

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Stark!Reader

Word Count: 5,572

Summary:

Notes: I changed a bit about Civil War-- like the Reader lives in the Tower instead of the Compound. I also changed a bit about how everything went down-- it’s been a while since I’ve seen Civil War. So please don’t be too mad about those changes.

Warnings: Angst.

Dialogue Prompts: “You’re making me think that what they told me about you was right.” // “I don’t know who you are anymore.”

The soothing melody of music swarmed around you. The smooth ivory keys of the piano were cool against your fingertips. A stark contrast to the whiskey burning its way down your throat every time you paused. The calming melody being replaced by the clinking of ice against the glass; something that reminded you of your father. A comparison that brought an even darker cloud over your head.

Like father, like daughter, your mind purrs.

Clenching your teeth, you slam your glass against the smooth surface of the piano. An acidic feeling working its way up until you were able to force it back down. The action causes tears to form in your eyes and pain to flare through your chest. Images of memories long suppressed flashing through your mind as you stood. Your gait stumbled ever-so-slightly as you made your way towards the large couch in the center of the room.

You wished for nothing more than to have the memories stop. To have the past twenty-four hours erased from your mind. To go back to a time when your team, your family, was still whole; severely damaged but whole. Where you didn’t know that the people you trusted had kept something so crucial from you. From Tony. Back to a time where the image of your older brother’s haunted face wasn’t seared into your brain-- where his bright brown eyes weren’t dimmed to a hollow black.

Back to a time when your heart was whole. Where you didn’t second guess everything that had happened for the past six years of your life.

The Day Prior….

A smile pulls at your lips as you hum a soft tune against the oppressive silence of the Tower. Wanting to fill a normally joyous environment with its usual cheer. Anything to offset the darkness that had been consuming all the light that had finally worked its way into your life.

The inviting aroma of the pasta sauce wafts through your nose. A warm feeling blossoming in your chest at the memories, and the feelings, it invokes within you. It was a recipe that your dear Brucey had imparted onto you after another failed attempt by your brother to make dinner. It seemed that for all his brains, Tony couldn’t figure out how to work a stove even if his life depended on it.

Even though he could probably make one in his sleep.

You held hope that your brother would be returning today. You knew how much the Accords, and the subsequent battles, were affecting him. His already fucked up sleeping schedule became almost nonexistent. Not to mention his new diet consisting solely of leftover pizza and coffee. Hopefully a nice home cooked meal would do him some good. You also held hope that your long term girlfriend, Natasha, would be joining your brother on his return. You didn’t truly know everything that was going on with the so-called ‘Civil War’ but you were beyond glad that Natasha wasn’t on the opposite side of it. You didn’t know what you would do if you lost her too.

You still couldn’t comprehend that Steve, your Capsicle, was no longer part of the Avengers-- at least the version that the public would rally behind. Couldn’t believe that Clint had so easily followed behind him without a second glance back. That Wanda, despite all of her misgivings about your last name, would leave you too. You knew that the Accords were demanding many things from the heroes, although you didn't know the extent of everything, you didn’t see the reason for the battles that had risen because of them. Not when amendments and other legalities could still surface in the wake of such a document coming into fruition.

You understood, in part, how Steve must feel having such restrictions appear. Flashing him back to a time that you had only read in history books and heard from the drunken ramblings of your father. Where if the rules weren’t followed there would be dire consequences. You also understood that Steve wanted to protect his friend from such restrictions-- you just couldn’t understand how a man that followed various rules like they were God’s words themselves could be so flippant about something so important. Could be so callous to the wishes of millions of people and their representatives. It wasn’t the forties anymore, Steve had to come to terms with that. The world wasn’t what it used to be.

At the first sign of Steve’s rejection to the Accords, you had hoped that Tony would be able to talk him into it. Would be able to stop the conflict before it even had the chance to rise. All that hope had flown out the window after the airport. After Rhodey, your beloved wombat, had gotten crippled you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. That nothing could fix the wound that had been inflicted on Tony’s already battered heart because of it.

An event that only became that much worse because you had only been able to catch glimpses of Natasha. Seeing her briefly in the hallway of the hospital with a dark look painted on her face. You had tried to approach her but she had vanished before you even got half-way. The next, and last, time you had seen her she was speaking with Tony. An exchange that didn’t look to be on the friendliest of terms. Yet another fact that you couldn’t comprehend. As their relationship, although starting off rough, blossomed after you began dating. An understanding growing between them that you were the glue that held them together. Friendship growing from that shared bond like flowers blossoming amongst the weeds at last. Witnessing such an exchange had shocked you but you still held hope that it was simply the ramifications of the battle-- having Steve and the rest of the rogues escape must have stung. Not to mention Rhodey’s injuries pouring salt into an already gaping wound.

Your hope was the only thing getting you through.

The smell of burning tomatoes fills your nose causing you to blanche. Your brow furrowing in surprise at the unexpected smell before, with muttered curses, you realize what you had done. As quickly as you were able to, you turned the burner off and brought the pot to the sink-- wherein you dumped it unceremoniously. A petulant frown making its way across your face at the sight.

Shaking your head, you grab a hand towel and make your way around the kitchen. You knew that Tony wasn’t the pickiest of eaters but you had wanted to make his homecoming meal special. Naked pasta didn’t really get that feeling across. At least I tried.

“I guess Tony isn’t the only one who’s been frazzled by all of this,” you mutter as you toss the towel onto the counter.

“You’re still using words like frazzled, Y/N?”

The unexpected response causes you to jump in surprise. Your heart leaping in your throat as you saw the shadowed figure of your brother standing in the precipice of the room. A grin pulling at your lips at the sight.

“Yes, Anthony, I do,” you reply. “At least when I believe that you’re not around.”

“I’m hurt, Y/N/N,” Tony cries with faux hurt in his tone. His hands coming to grasp his chest with an exaggerated air. At the movement, however, you notice how stiff his movements were. Your eyes narrow as you take in his entire figure again. Noticing the slouched posture and the almost defeated air that surrounded him.

Taking a worried step forward, you couldn’t stop the fear that interlaced itself within your tone. “Tony, what happened?”

“I lost.”

If it was possible you could feel even more fear work its way through your body. Tony never admitted defeat, not since your father was alive, he felt like it was a sign of weakness. While it could get annoying at times you know that Tony didn’t mean anything malicious by it. Hearing the words fall from his lips without a hint of resistance?

It filled you with a sense of dread you hadn’t felt since the day you learned about your parents.

And when Tony finally stepped from the shadows?

It brought you back to the moment that he had told you. His body caving in on itself as he tried to hide from the world. His bright, intelligent, brown eyes turning black with the various emotions that ran through his mind. His smiling, jovial, face turning serious and grim. A contrast that you don’t think you would ever be able to stomach. You knew that Tony could be serious, when he wanted to be, but seeing him so broken? Empty? That was something you don’t think you could ever witness without feeling your own heart break because of it.

All of that combined with the bruises? You could already feel the oncoming panic before it even began.

Rushing towards your brother, you gently take his face into your hands-- noticing his slight flinch as you did so. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you gently stroke your thumb across his cheekbone.

“What the hell happened, Tony?”

Your question causes Tony to pause. As if he didn’t know what to tell you-- or how much to tell you. At the expression, your grip tightens ever-so-slightly.

“Don’t beat around the bush, Tony. Tell me what the hell happened.” You pause as an unsettled feeling wells within you. “Did Steve do this to you?”

“Y/N/N,” Tony sighs with a soft look appearing on his face. His eyes trying to desperately tell you what he couldn’t voice. What he didn’t want to voice. Without thinking you take a staggered step away from him. Your hand flying to your mouth as you try to keep your tears at bay. Not believing that man you trusted would be able to do something like this.

“Ho-” You clear your throat as the words get stuck. “How did this happen, Tony? Where was Natasha in all of this? How could she have let this happen? How could your team let this happen?”

“It wasn’t supposed to escalate,” he murmurs as he takes your hands into his. His eyes imploring you to understand. “I went to talk to Rogers and Barnes. I wanted to stop the incessant battles and finally come back together as a team. As a family.”

You take one of his bruised hands in yours. “You’re not a violent man, Tony. Not more than any of the others.” You shake your head. “Something must have happened for it to escalate to such a degree. Especially if you went there to just talk.”

Tony stiffens. “I don’t think you want to continue this conversation, Y/N.”

“Yes, I do. I want to know how a man that praises himself on his honor could attack you in such a way. I want to know what caused you to fight in the first place.” You squeeze Tony’s hand. “I’m not a little girl anymore, Tones. You don’t have to protect me from everything. I’m dating a former KGB agent after all.”

Tony winces at the reminder but you try not to read too much into it. His eyes shifting downwards as he gripped your hand in his. “They didn’t attack me, Y/N/N.” He pauses as he forces himself to continue. To tell you the awful truth of what happened. “I attacked them.”

“What?” You ask with a horrified expression. “Why would you do that?”

He seems to shrink even more because of your tone. “I learned some things. Things that I should have known from the beginning.” His head lowers once more as his voice drops to a whisper. “Things you should have known from the beginning.”

You shake your head as you try to understand. “What could have been so bad that it caused you to attack one of your greatest friends? To do so when you went with the simple understanding of a truce?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I think we need to sit down for this, Y/N.”

Before you could react, Tony was pulling you out of the kitchen and towards the sitting area of the Tower-- the dinner you had made completely forgotten on the island.

You didn’t think you had much of an appetite anyways.

Tugging at your hand, Tony settles on the couch with you at his side. His expressive brown eyes staring into yours as he mulled over his next words.

When the silence became too much, you couldn’t stop the desperate plea that fell from your lips. “Just tell me, Tony. Please.”

He nods, his body straightening and his shoulders stiffening. He looked like a man prepared for battle that didn’t let anything in this world get to him. If it wasn’t for the pained expression on his face you would believe that to be so.

“As you know I went to Siberia to meet with Rogers and Barnes. I wanted to wipe the slate clean between us. To bring both sides back together again. We need to be united if we have any chance of protecting Earth.” Sighing, Tony shakes his head as if to redirect himself. “During the conversation a video began playing.”

“A video?” You question with a small frown furrowing your brow.

“Yes,” Tony murmurs. “A video that was created on December 16, 1991.”

All color drained from your face at the revelation. An almost static buzzing taking over your surroundings as you tried to comprehend what Tony told you. Your eyes watering at the knowledge of what must have been on that video. You didn’t have to hear the rest to know that much. Didn’t have to look farther than Tony’s haunted expression. Or the simple fact of the date you hated more than anything becoming a reality once more. Yet another nightmare working its way into your reality. You just foolishly believed you had finally gotten past this one already.

Closing your eyes, you try to stem the oncoming flow of tears. Your voice coming out strained because of your efforts. “Did he know?”

There was another moment of silence.

“Yes.”

This time you knew your heart had broken-- possibly is much easier to handle than actually. You didn’t want to believe that Steve had kept something from you for so long. Something that he had no right keeping from either you or Tony. Even if it was to protect his friend. You had the right to know what happened to your parents.

At the soft touch to your cheek, you open your eyes to meet Tony’s pained gaze. You knew that Tony had never been close to your father, you hadn’t either, but you knew that Tony never wanted anything bad to happen to him. Much less have anything happen to your mother. Knowing that an accident hadn’t been the cause. Knowing that someone you trusted abetted their murderer. Someone you knew had been connected with each one of Tony’s old teammates in one way or another.

It was a thought that caused your heart to break even more.

“Please tell me it’s not true,” you beg with tears streaming down your cheeks. By the look in Tony’s eyes you knew he understood what you were asking. What you were begging him to not be true. “Please tell me that she didn’t know.” You lower your head as a sob erupts from your mouth. “Please tell me that I didn’t just lose her too.”

Tony wrapping his arms around you was all the answer you needed. Keens falling from your lips as your new reality finally sunk in. Clinging to your brother in the dark with sobs punctuating the silence. Filling the usually joyous space with pain and grief. The darkness finally took over the light.

With your heart irreparably shattered.

And your hope forever crushed.

You had lost track of how long you had stayed in Tony’s arms. Your tears coming and going like tidal waves. The arrival of Pepper hadn’t surprised you in the slightest. You knew that your brother and her had a lot to work through, but you no one could deny the love they held for one another. Nor could you refute the loyalty that Pepper showed to the Stark family. So you weren’t surprised when Tony’s well muscled arms were replaced by slim ones. When his masculine scent was replaced by soothing floral.

You had simply burrowed further into Pepper’s arms and allowed yourself to grieve. Allowed the pain to flow from you like a constant stream. A never ending river that you didn’t know if you could save yourself from drowning in.

However, the refuge you found within Pepper’s embrace was short lived. You knew that you were being selfish by keeping her all to yourself. That you were ignoring Tony’s pain for the sake of your own. A thought that causes your stomach to turn even more. You knew that you had to be by yourself, at least for a little while, so Tony could have his own haven. So Tony could begin to grieve too.

With great effort you had pulled yourself from Pepper’s warmth and gestured towards the silent figure of your brother. You didn’t have to speak to get the message across of where you wanted Pepper to be. You simply stood, fighting back the need to collapse, and began making your way towards the elevator. You knew that the type of comfort Pepper would provide Tony would be quite different from the type she gave you.

Even as you stepped into the elevator and the doors began closing, you could hear the soft murmurs of their voices. The loving lilt you could discern even from the distance you were at. It filled you with a numbing sense of warmth. You had never been more happy for someone being in your life than at that moment. You didn’t want to imagine what would have happened to Tony if he didn’t have Pepper.

Just like you didn’t want to imagine your life without Natasha.

Even though you knew you had to.

It is the reality that you were living in. A nightmare that had finally caught up with you after so long.

As real as the pain in your chest.

As real as the pounding of your skull.

And as real as the glass of whiskey you were going to have to numb it all.

Present….

At the memories, you bury your head into your hands. Trying to stop your heart from breaking even more. There was only so much you could take before you finally lost it. Stifling a groan, you settle back onto the couch and stare at the half empty whiskey decanter situated on the glass table. Wondering if your head, and throat, could take any more of the punishment the amber liquid provided. Your fingers twitching at your sides to pour yourself another glass but you refrained.

You were not about to drown all of your problems with alcohol-- even if you wanted nothing more than to do so.

Letting loose a low groan, you flop your head back against the couch. Your eyes screwing shut as you tried to ignore the growing feeling of numbness that was settling over you. A numbness that was tinged with fire. A feeling that you were beyond scared to feel once more. You hadn’t felt this type of emotion since you had first heard that your parents were dead. Hadn’t felt this growing feeling of anger being off-set by the hollowness of grief in such a long time. You had no idea what to do.

All you did know was that you wanted it to stop.

You wanted it all to stop-- at least for a moment.

Of course, you wouldn’t be a Stark if anything ever went your way. The sound of approaching footsteps rectified that fact. You automatically recognized the graceful gait. A gait that you would only hear if its owner wished you to.

You didn’t know how you felt about that.

Without opening your eyes, you speak. “What do you want Natasha?”

At your words the footsteps disappear, but you knew that she hadn’t stopped moving. Not when you felt a familiar presence settle itself in front of you. Her warmth radiating off of her like a furnace. Something that you would normally relish in. Now it only made you want to get away as fast as you were able.

“Can you open your eyes and look at me, Y/N?”

You almost refused to acknowledge her soft request. Almost turned away from her completely but you couldn’t. Not when she still controlled your heart the way she did. So, with a soft sigh, you open your eyes and are surprised by what you see. Natasha’s green eyes staring at you with tears shimmering within their depths. Her normally luminescent skin a chalky white that caused the dark circles under her eyes to stand out. Her red hair is thrown into a messy bun on the top of her head. It was a sight that caused your heart to lurch-- even if you cursed yourself because of it. Natasha looked tortured. The pain written across her face, her completely open face, a clear indicator.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you try to figure out what to do. You knew that Natasha still held the reins to your heart. That she more than likely always would. But this betrayal, this deceit, wasn’t something you could just look over. Not like you had done with the whole Natalie Rushman debacle. There were only so many lies you could bear before everything came tumbling down.

“Why are you here?” You finally settle on after another beat of silence. Your question rings out across the expanse of space between you. Your gaze never wavering from her emerald green.

Natasha frowns. “Why do you think I’m here? I’m here to make things right between us.”

You scoff, feeling your anger begin to scorch through your body. “Make things right? Make things right?” You stand as the last part of your statement turns shrill. Your eyes blazing with indignation as you stared down at her. “How the hell do you think you can make things right? After what you did? After what you kept from me?”

Following your lead, Natasha stands and tries to move towards you. An action that you quickly move away from as you move back over towards the piano. At your clear dismissal, Natasha wrings her hands together. An almost panicked look beginning to work its way across her face. “I know, Y/N, I know what I did was wrong, I do, but I thought what I was doing was right. I thought I was protecting my family,” Natasha pleads. “I didn’t think it would escalate like this.”

A sardonic laugh falls from your lips. “Didn’t think?” You shake your head, another laugh erupting from your mouth. “You didn’t think that it would escalate like it has? How else would it have fucking happened? You thought that everything would be all hunky-dory after what you did? Really? You know better than that Natasha. I know you do.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Natasha cries. “I know that I fucked up but I didn’t think Steve would react like this. I didn’t think so many people would have gotten hurt in the process. If I had known I would have never let them go.”

Silence.

Complete and total silence falls over the room at her admission. The same buzzing feeling making its way through your ears as you stare at her. Your brain working overtime to comprehend what Natasha had just admitted to you.

Taking a step back, you stare at her with an appalled expression. “What?”

Natasha, seemingly not understanding your confusion, takes a small step towards you. A frown marring her beautiful face. “I didn’t think letting them go would result in all of this.” She runs a hand through her hair-- destroying the bun she had kept it in. “I didn’t think it would destroy you like this. That it would hurt you the way it has. I’m so sorry, lyubov moya.”

“You let them go?” You ask, needing confirmation. Needing to hear her say it again. “You let them go?”

Lowering her head, Natasha seems to wilt. As if she was finally just realizing that she had said the wrong thing. That the true cause of your misery, at your anger towards her, was still an enigma. “Yes,” she whispers. “I let them go.”

Shaking your head, you take another step away from her, your eyes watering once more at the truth that was so obvious for so long. That you had been blinded from for too long. “I’ve never really known you have I?”

Her head snaps up to stare at you at the question. A horrified expression crossing her face as she finally realized how much damage had been inflicted. Emerald green eyes shining with even more suppressed tears as she begged you to understand. “Of course you know me, Y/N. You’re the only one that has ever truly known me. I’ve given my everything to you. Please tell me how I can fix this. Tell me how I can repair us.”

“There’s no fixing this, Natasha. Rhodey is crippled because of your decision to let the rogues go. Tony’s best friend is crippled because of you. He trusted you, believed in you, and you did this? I know that they’re your family, Natasha, I do. But they were ours too. Did you really think that Tony would let them be second-rate citizens forever? Did you really think that we wouldn’t do everything in our power to protect them?” A self deprecating smile flashes across your face. You already knew that answer to all of them. “Of course you didn’t. You didn’t believe that the egomaniacal Starks could save the day. That we wouldn’t just wait for the easy way out and be done with it.”

“No, lyubov moya,” Natasha denies immediately. “I would never think such things about you or Tony. Not anymore. Not since I’ve been able to see what lies beneath the masks. I could understand Steve’s plight. I knew that no matter what you or Tony did it wouldn’t be enough to save them. That Ross and the others would do everything in their power to muzzle us. That’s why I let them go. I couldn’t imagine someone being on the same leash I had been on.”

“Is that why you kept the true cause of my parents death from me? To save them?”

A shocked look passes over Natasha’s face at your question-- a small flinch appearing at the ire strewn within each syllable.

“Steve didn’t tell you?”

A bark of laughter erupts from your mouth. “Of course, your precious Steve didn’t tell me. Why the fuck would Rogers tell me anything that didn’t pertain to him being the golden boy? He’s Captain America. We wouldn't want him to lose that spotless repertoire.” You take a small step towards her. Your eyes turn acidic as your voice lowered into a snarl. “But it doesn’t matter that he didn’t tell me. You should have been the one to do so. You. The same woman that has shared my bed for years. The same woman that has made me look like a fool for years because I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.”

“And what’s that, Y/N? What has been right in front of you this whole time?”

“That I don’t know who you are anymore, Natasha.” You stifle the urge to sob at the look that passes over her face at the admission. “That you’re making me think that what they told me about you was right.”

As if you had physically struck her, Natasha stumbled back. Her face, if possible, turning even paler than you had ever seen it. “What have they been telling you?”

Turning your head, your eyes find the decanter filled with amber. Wishing that you had a glass in your hand. Wanting nothing more than to stop this conversation in its tracks. To simply open your arms and accept Natasha back. To let your heart open up once more to her. There was nothing more that you wanted-- even if you knew it could never be a possibility.

“You may have left the Red Room behind, Natasha.” You begin with a small, dejected, sigh falling from your lips. Your gaze meeting hers once more. “But the Red Room has never left you. Nor will it ever leave you. I know that you’re more than the red in your ledger. I believe that more strongly than you could ever possibly know. No matter how much I wish otherwise, however, you will always be a spy. That’s how you were trained to be. That’s how you were raised and nothing can ever negate that. I’m not saying you’re a double agent, Natasha, I’m not. I just don’t think you’ve ever truly been on our side. I think that the bond you have with Steve, with the others, will always be stronger than the bond you have with us. They’re soldiers, survivors, heroes.” A small smile quirks your lips. “Hell some of them are even spies too. While I’m just an heiress with a lot of daddy issues. With an older brother that sometimes goes over the top. I don’t blame you for choosing them. I don’t blame you for staying true to who you are. I just don’t think I can ever forgive you.”

“Y/N/N,” Natasha pleads. Emerald eyes desperate as she took a small step towards you. Her entire being wilting as you took a step back. A normally impassive face losing its internal battle as tears started to flow down her face. A small sob falling from her lips as she realized that she had lost you. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.”

At the sight of her tears, you finally lose your own internal struggle. Moving towards her and taking her into your arms. Trying to ignore how right it felt to have her there. Trying to ignore the feeling of her tears hitting your skin. Of her heavy breathing as she tried to control herself. The almost desperate way she was clinging onto you. For she knew the moment she let go you would be gone.

Lowering your head, you press a small kiss to the top of her head. Your arms tightening around her as you said a silent goodbye.

“I’m sorry too, Natasha. I’m sorry it’s turned out like this.” Pulling back, you cup her face in your hands. Fighting back even more tears as she nuzzled into the embrace. Emerald green shimmering with her pain. You offer a watery smile towards her. “I’ll give you a head start.”

Another sob escapes her lips. “I would go to jail for the rest of my life if it still meant I had you.”

“I don’t think I would ever be able to live with myself if you went to jail because of me, Natasha.”

“And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live with myself knowing that I’m the reason I lost the love of my life.”

Not knowing what else to do, you pull Natasha back into your arms. Memorizing the feel of her body pressing into yours. Her scent wafting through your nose-- the feeling of home coming with it. The strength she exuded even when she was nuzzled into your neck. Her arms never wavering from your waist as she returned your embrace. Knowing that this was possibly the last time you would ever get to hold her filled you to the brim with anguish.

After another moment passes, you finally step back from Natasha. Gently pulling her arms from around you as she tried to hold on. Your eyes meeting her agonized emerald.

“I love you, Y/N,” she murmurs.

“I love you too, Nat,” you murmur back. “I think I always will.”

Glancing towards the clock situated on the wall, you finally notice the time. Without turning back to her, you speak. “It’s around the time that Tony will be getting up, Natasha. I think you should leave now while you still have the chance.”

There was a beat of silence. Where, for a moment, you thought that Natasha wouldn’t leave. That she was going to stay resolutely in front of you. Her warmth caressing your body like a blanket.

That moment didn’t last long. As the warmth slipped from you like water through your fingers. Your eyes closing at the painful feeling the chill caused. The loneliness that was pressing down onto you. Something that only doubled when you heard the faint ding of the elevator.

The only proof of her presence being the faint scent of her and the pain in your chest.

Opening your eyes, you level your gaze back towards the decanter.

One more drink wouldn’t hurt.

Not if it meant you could suppress everything that has happened.

If it meant you wouldn’t see her face every time you closed your eyes.

Anything would be better than the pain.

Even if you had to be numb to achieve it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #black widow #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanov #avengers civil war #stark reader #requiem

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

starstruck ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “Can I request some age gap Spencer x reader. Maybe he’s nervous about approaching her for a relationship bc she’s younger, but he’s so goofy for her it’s he’s in love obvious. Pretty pls 🥺💕” 5222 words

a/n: i didn’t specify ages cause i wasn’t sure what people would be comfortable with so i just mentioned an age gap and leave the rest up to you!! i would happily date someone twice my age but i also have daddy issues so :)

masterlist

The day has finally arrived.

Mollie can call you a nerd all she wants, but you know the second she lays eyes on Derek Morgan or Emily Prentiss she’ll change her tune.

This event has been in the university’s calendar since the beginning of the semester. At least two members of the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit were promised to give a talk about their department, even taking you through a solved case like an interactive documentary, to encourage students to consider joining the academy post-graduation. There was whispers they’d even stick around after to answer some questions.

Your other friend, Jen, the one that understands your excitement, wrote your names down for tickets immediately. You’ve had a countdown on your phone ever since.

“They’ve announced a last-minute guest,” She beams, just as giddy as you. You’re wasting time at the coffee house near the auditorium, waiting for Mollie to arrive.

“Oh, really? Who?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

You almost drop your cookie in shock and stare at her, pupils blown.

“You’re a big fan?” She smirks.

As nonchalantly as you can, you lean back in your chair, “I’m a fan of his work, yes.”

“Oh, his work?”

“Don’t start.”

“I bet you love his work.”

“He’s well-versed and his papers are super interesting-“

“His papers are super interesting-“

“You are a child.”

Just then, Mollie appears, checking her watch. You wish you could kiss her in thanks for saving you from the teasing that would likely never end. “We’re gonna be late for your morbid seminar if you two don’t stop bickering.”

Jen downs the rest of her drink, you shove the last of the cookie in your mouth. Mollie watches your excitement in amusement – your heart starts pumping, whole body buzzing, the same nervousness you felt when you were a preteen right before your first ever One Direction concert. It’s the kind of nervousness that makes your palms sweaty.

Is it evolution or devolution to go from sweating over One Direction to sweating over FBI profilers?

+++

The seminar goes on for an hour, including the questions people ask throughout. It’s everything you could’ve asked for, entertaining and so, so informative and although you weren’t considering joining the FBI before, suddenly it’s all you can think about. Guest speakers have that affect, don’t they? They make you wonder if you should drastically change everything you’ve been planning.

Even Mollie, who you had to threaten to tag along, ended up enjoying herself. “Maybe I learnt a thing or two,” She’d said, rolling her eyes playfully.

You and your friends are some of the last to leave. There’s quite the bustling outside, which you assume is just post-seminar chatter, but you and Jen falter in your steps when you see the exact profilers that had been onstage several minutes ago in front of you, happily interacting and talking to fellow students.

“Oh, man,” Jen whispers, her and Mollie making eye contact across you. “I have to see if I can talk to Emily.”

Mollie encourages her with a frantic, “Go! Go!” while you’re rooted in place. Mollie jabs you with a pointed nail, “You in there, Y/N? I’m sure you have loads of questions for them-“

You stutter and shake your head, “N-no. I’m good. You can try and hit on Derek, if you want.”

You give a half-attempt at a smile, barely lifting the corners of your lips. Mollie recognises that look. She wants to stay with you, check you’re not too overwhelmed, but you shoo her away and send her towards Derek. You breathe a sigh of relief – you’ve been friends with her long enough that she knows when you need space.

There’s something about seeing people you admire so abruptly that totally throws you for a loop. All you had prepared for was seeing them from afar and subsequently talking about it forever, but nothing beyond that. In some circumstances, it’d be a pleasant surprise, but for someone that struggles around strangers and especially around people as admirable as profilers, you are not mentally prepared for this and have therefore shut down.

But then you see him.

He’s shuffling in place in the corner of the room, close to a large potted plant like it’s his only friend. He’s nibbling his lip as his eyes flutter around, never staying somewhere for longer than a second, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Why is no one talking to him? He’s Spencer Reid.

There’s a couple of people surrounding Emily, fully entranced by whatever story she’s relaying, another few people around Derek, chortling at a joke he just made. Spencer glances between them and their audiences, and you can’t help but wonder why he isn’t right next to them, chatting away, too.

Does he not want to talk to anyone?

You should talk to him.

No. He probably wants to be alone.

Or what if he doesn’t and no one else is talking to him which means you can have a one-on-one conversation? What about that?

Are you insane?

…

You have to talk to him.

Before you can change your mind, you’re approaching him with a tight grip on the handle of your bag, pushing it higher up your shoulder. He spots you and makes eye contact just as you stop in front of him, and you notice he momentarily tightens his grip on his satchel.

Was this a bad idea?

“Hi,” You breathe, “I’m Y/N. A big fan.”

His eyes widen a fraction, which you don’t understand because why else would you be here, but he smiles nonetheless, “Hi, I’m, uh, Spencer Reid.”

“I know.”

“Yes, you know. That makes sense, because you were in the seminar. I saw you.”

Now you’re shocked. For as long as you can remember you never sit in the centre of a room, where most attention seems to go, so how did he-

“I-I always scan the room I’m in its.. it’s not a creepy thing, I swear. I’m not creepy.”

A laugh escapes you at that, making him visibly relax. “I don’t think you’re creepy. There was just.. a lot of people in there, so I’m surprised you remember my face.” You shrug.

I couldn’t forget such a beautiful face.

You don’t know what happens, but Spencer suddenly tenses up. His back straightens and he looks alarm, stiff.

Did he just think that? What.. why did he think that?

You wonder if you’ve said something wrong, so you try to change the topic.

“I-I have a question, if you don’t mind answering.”

Spencer nods with an of course, and when the question rolls off your tongue, his mind is still reeling from subconsciously calling you beautiful in his head. It’s not untrue, but it feels.. inappropriate. He doesn’t know why. But you are beautiful.

As he scans your face, now much closer than in the auditorium, he realises yeah, you are incredibly beautiful.

You wave a hand in front of his face, “Doctor Reid?”

“Sorry, yes, sorry. What are you studying?”

There’s a light in your eyes that Spencer recognises when you say, “Psychology.”

“Thought so.”

“You probably talk to a lot of psychology students. I-um. I almost went to Caltech,” Spencer raises an eyebrow, "After I read your dissertation, it really inspired me to look into it – your dissertation is incredible, by the way.”

Spencer smiles bashfully, a futile attempt to not allow the grin to overtake his face, and thanks you, “I appreciate it. Actually, I was sixteen when I wrote it.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Your eyes widen, “You’re insane! You’re amazing!”

The praise bursts from you, and his blushing face makes you oddly proud. On the other hand, Spencer feels like you’ve set him alight, his blood pumping loudly in his ears, as he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your smile.

He desperately needs to change the topic.

“To answer your question…”

Derek notices you two interacting across the room. Mollie sees him looking and hums, “Oh, that’s Y/N, my best friend. She really likes Spencer.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “Looks like he really likes her.”

“Don’t tell her that. She’ll collapse.”

They both watch you for a second, Spencer flailing his arms as he explains, you eagerly adding to his rambling, asking a question here and exclaiming some kind of encouragement there. It’s sweet, Derek thinks.

“Hey..” Mollie begins, a scheming look in her eye, “We’re planning to hang out in the campus bar later. It’s open to all and the drinks are cheap. If you and Emily happen to find yourselves looking for something to do and you drag Spencer along.. I’m sure Y/N would like it.”

“I like the way you think,” Derek says, “I’ll see what I can do.”

+++

“She’s getting hit on. Again.” You giggle, gesturing for Jen to turn around and witness Mollie get your drinks paid for by a random guy.

She’s always been a people person – it’s saved you hundreds on nights out.

All Jen does is glance over her shoulder, scoff, then turn her sceptical eyes to you.

“I saw you and Spencer Reid.” She says, twinkling eyes. She’s trying not to look smug.

“I almost proposed to him.” You joke, taking your drink from Mollie with a mumbled thanks.

“Oh, I bet you did,” She laughs, “You two looked sooo good together.”

“Alright,” You slide a shot to each girl, “I know you’re making fun of me, but I’m taking that compliment and cherishing it. Spencer Reid is cute, what of it?!”

You clink the shot glasses with your friends and down them, all wincing at the taste and giggling at Jen when she takes a gulp of her cocktail to wash away the taste of straight vodka.

“How did talking to Derek and Emily go?”

And then Jen starts chattering away.

You miss the bar door opening behind you, But Mollie notices. She’s been watching the door since they got here, conveniently choosing the table with the best view, just in case some profilers decided to stop by.

Derek catches Mollie’s eye and winks.

“Well I never,” Mollie fakes shock, “Look who just walked through the doors.”

You turn and choke on your drink. Emily and Derek look relax, like they’re home, but Spencer?

He looks just like he did earlier: like there’s a million places he’d rather be.

He’s lost the blazer he was wearing earlier, leaving him in a fitted purple shirt with a matching tie. With the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, you can see his firm hands and the silver watch that rests on his wrist – is it possible for a watch to be sexy? Or maybe it’s just cause he’s sexy?

That shot must be getting to you.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You hiss, a sharp whisper piercing the air as you turn and (terribly) try to hide your face.

But Spencer’s seen you. He spotted you the moment they came in – he recognised your clothes and your hair – and the second he did he turned right back around to exit the bar. Derek’s arm stopped him at his chest, like he does to unsubs, forcefully turning him around and laughing when Spencer tensed up.

“What, Reid? Scared of a pretty girl?” Derek teases, much like he’d been doing since he spoke to you earlier.

“I am scared of college girls, yes. Last time I was in a college bar I was twelve and downed shots of apple juice.”

“What?!” Both Emily and Derek stop short, looks of disbelief at the revelation. “You’ve never mentioned that.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We,” Derek places his hands on Spencer’s shoulders, directing him to your table, “Are just gonna have a few drinks and talk to a few people, and then you’re gonna explain that apple juice story in explicit detail- hey ladies!”

Jen and Mollie look overjoyed at the new company, while you stare rigidly with distinctive what the fuck eyes.

“Would you mind if we joined you?” Emily asks, with a sparkling grin that no one could say no to.

“Of course not,” Jen grins, like it’s the most obvious answer.

The empty seat next to you is taken by Spencer (Derek discreetly shoves him) but right before he’s firmly placed on the stool, Emily calls out, “Spence, why don’t you get us some drinks? You still owe us after you lost that game of gin..”

“I didn’t lose.” Spencer huffs indignantly, “You cheated.”

Despite his grunts, he stands to make his way to the bar, but not before-

“Y/N!” Mollie beams, “It’s your turn to get the round, if you’d be so kind.”

You know that look on her face. You hate her, you realise, but you also love her because being alone with Spencer sends a thrill through you.

Alone with Spencer. What the hell are you supposed to say to him?

You follow him to the bar. He leans against it with an awkward smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey.”

“It’s uh.. it’s been a long time since we’ve seen eachother.” It’s a half attempt at a joke, followed by instant regret. But then you giggle and everything feels right in the world, even Spencer’s sucky joke.

“It has been a while, Doctor Reid.” You say. The bartender approaches, takes your orders, then you turn to Spencer, “What brings you to a college bar, of all places?”

“Well,” Spencer glances over your shoulder to your table. He makes eye contact with every single person there, all watching you two interact, and they all sharply turn and try to play it off like they’ve been talking casually. Spencer’s brows furrow a little. “Derek said the drinks are cheap and our hotel is only a couple blocks away. I don’t know, maybe Derek likes college girls.”

You laugh again, and Spencer has to take a second to realise you’re not laughing at him but at what he said about Derek. “Yeah, Derek seems like a real ladies man.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” Spencer grins, “We once timed him to see how long it would take to get a girls number and he did it in five minutes. And he said he was having a bad day.”

The drinks are placed in front of you. Neither of you notice.

You unconsciously lean closer, saying, “Have you timed it to see how long it takes for a girl to approach him? That’s gotta be, like, maybe ten minutes?”

“Eight minutes and twenty-three seconds.”

“Well damn. Has he always been so…” A hand gestures in the air, looking for the word.

“Promiscuous?”

“I was gonna say free.”

“Free?” Spencer giggles, “That’s very nice of you.”

You shrug, “I don’t judge.” Spencer agrees, and it slips out, “What about you?”

You wish you could shove the words back in your mouth. Even more so when his expression changes. You can’t entirely make out what it is, but even in the dimly lit bar you can see the flush of heat that spreads through his cheeks to his ears.

“Are you asking me if I’m free with the ladies?” He murmurs, suppressing a grin.

You give an awkward laugh, wondering if you’ve overstepped a boundary, “Yeah. But that’s kinda weird to ask, so-“

“I’m so popular with the ladies it puts Derek to shame.”

You can’t hide your surprise. “What? Really?”

Spencer caves. “No. Is it that hard to believe I’m a ladies man?”

“Compared to Derek? Yes.”

Spencer scoffs.

+++

“As adorable as they are, it’s been thirty minutes.” Emily sighs. “I want my drink.”

“They’re bonding,” Jen sends a wistful look, “I’m so proud.”

“I’m guessing Y/N isn’t the most social either?” Derek asks, proudly watching you interact.

“She’s the best, just a little shy sometimes.” She smiles at you, even though you can’t see, “She’s an idiot, but our idiot, you know?”

Both Emily and Derek laugh airily, nodding with a, “Yeah, we know.”

At once, three phones vibrate throughout the bar – Emily, Derek and Spencer. They’re instantly filled with disappointment; Derek can’t watch Spencer attempt to flirt with a girl he’s obviously interested in, Emily still hasn’t got a drink, and Spencer has to leave you and he can’t think of anything worse.

He’s clearly hesitant when he looks at his phone. How does he say goodbye? Does he ask for your number? Would that be weird? That would be weird.

“Uhh…”

You channel every ounce of liquid courage you have in your body and offer, “Would it be weird if I gave you my number? Just.. for anything. Anything at all.”

Spencer nods, a gentle look in his eyes and a smile on his face, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You mumble an alright, accepting Spencer’s phone and creating a new contact for yourself.

Please text me. You think. Please text me.

+++

He doesn’t text.

It’s been a week. A week. You know how cases are, some take longer than others and some are solved in literal hours, but it’s been a week, Spencer goddamn Reid, so why haven’t you texted me.

That’s when the doubt creeps in. Your friends keep telling you he’ll text, that he’s just busy (“He’s an FBI agent, Y/N. If you start dating you’re gonna have to get used to lapses in contact.” To which you’re too distracted choking at the mention of you two dating), but you can’t help but wonder if he took your number simply so he could leave quicker. He had a case to get to, after all. He had people to save.

Now you feel guilty. You forced your number on him, didn’t you? Oh God, he hates you. He hates you and you forced your number on him and he hasn’t texted you because he’s filing a restraining order against you because he hates you.

Mollie tells you you need a nap.

+++

Spencer spends the time on the jet back from the case staring at your number. He has it memorised, of course, and has had it memorised from the first time he read it, of course, but he can’t bring himself to do anything with it.

All he’s done is change your contact picture from the standard first letter of your name to a cute picture of a frog Garcia sent him. It reminds him of you.

Derek lowers his headphones, “You texted her yet, Pretty Boy?”

“Huh? Uh, no. I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer shrugs, locking his phone and placing it face down. “I don’t think anything would come from it.”

“Kid,” Derek leans forward, eyebrows furrowed, “You two talked for well over thirty minutes in the middle of a college bar about God knows what. Maybe I’m easy to impress, but that seemed pretty special to me.”

“How is talking in a college bar worth anything?”

“Because you’re Reid, who, most of the time, has to be physically dragged into a bar. You hate talking to strangers about anything other than work. Y/N? A stranger. What did you two talk about?”

“We talked about you a little.”

“Uhuh. About how good I am at my job?”

“God, no,” Spencer scrunches his nose, “We talked about your charm with the ladies.”

Derek falls back in his chair and scoffs, “I’m flattered, but that doesn’t sound like work-talk to me. So you’re comfortable with her. I saw you laughing, so she makes you laugh, too. Sounds pretty great to me.”

Spencer stares. Derek’s right, but..

“So what is it, Reid?”

Spencer licks his lips. “Do you think she’s too young for me?”

Derek rarely looks taken aback, but he does now, “Too young?”

“She’s in college. I’m-I’m-“

“A legal adult. As is she.”

Spencer slumps. “A 2014 Current Population Survey found the average difference for a heterosexual couple is two-point-three years, with the man older than the woman. Even if you double that, that’s still less than me and Y/N-“

“Four years isn’t a lot, Spence,”

“You just.. you don’t think it’s weird?”

“No. Do you?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Derek’s conviction gives Spencer some reassurance, but he can’t help himself when he thinks that.. maybe.. you’ll find him boring. Most people seem to, with all his statistics and figures and facts, but with the added element of you living it up at college.. how could he compete?

“I think you’re worrying over nothing, Reid. You haven’t even texted her, and you’re already worrying about stuff like age gaps?” Derek crosses his hands and looks at Spencer with determination, “She gave you her number. She initiated it. She knows who you are, so she knows how old you are and it doesn’t seem to make her uncomfortable. So, why should it make you?”

Spencer just grunts.

“Are you worried people will say things?”

“I guess.”

“People always say things. You know that better than anyone. So screw ‘em.”

Spencer feels a smile creep onto his face.

And Derek relaxes. He’s planted the seeds, that Spencer is fretting over nothing, now all he’s got to do is wait for Spencer to let it sink in and allow the flowers to bloom and, next thing you know, Spencer’s gonna have himself the perfect girlfriend.

And Derek will take too much credit for it.

+++

“Heeeeeeeeey my precious Doctor…”

Garcia looks like her hand was caught in the cookie jar.

Spencer’s back straightens. “What did you do?”

She looks embarrassed, fiddling with the fluffy pen in her hand. She smiles awkwardly. “Derek may have told me about a pretty little college student that captured your heart, and then he told me you also haven’t texted her yet, so I did a little digging and…”

“You cyber-stalked Y/N?” Emily asks, casually. JJ seems unphased at the discussion. Does everyone in the office know about you?

“I did. I’m guilty. I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” She’s speaking a mile a minute.

Emily spares Spencer a glance, “Did you find anything?”

“Well…”

Concern fills Spencer. “Did something happen?”

“I just found some stuff she’d probably only tell a close friend and I feel really bad about it.” Her shoulders are by her ears as she tries to fold in on herself out of guilt, “But other than that she’s a genuinely sweet girl who volunteers at pet shelters and the college library in her free time and we have really similar music tastes so I think we’d make great friends.”

They all look to Spencer, waiting for his reaction. What? Is he supposed to be surprised that you’re the epitome of perfect? He’s not. He studied you the entire time you spoke.

“She’s also written several incredible papers on child development that I think are revolutionary and I totally emailed them to you because I think you should read them. She’s also a genius.”

Spencer’s hand twitches. He ignores the sudden need to check his email.

It’s silent as they just stare at him. He doesn’t say anything and tries not to react, but he does. They notice how his eyes flicker to his phone, how his leg fidgets, the longing in his eyes.

Emily brushes her hair back calmly and asks, “Hey, Pen, when does Y/N work at the college library?”

Penelope doesn’t catch on at first, casually replying, “Oh, basically every day from five pm onwards. They’re a twenty-four hour library and she combines working and studying.” When she sees Emily pointedly look at Spencer, she goes ohhh.

“Good to know,” Emily nods, “Good to know.”

+++

Spencer finds himself at the college library that night.

He wants to say it was an accident, or that he just happens to know there’s a special edition of a specific book here, but he’d be lying. He read your papers between reports, and found himself having a deep appreciation for the way you write – he wants to ready everything you’ve ever written. Every essay, every note, every formal and informal piece of work you’ve ever done.

He’s already fallen in love with the way you write. He doesn’t think he’s far from falling in love with you.

He wanders around the lower floor of the library. It’s impressive, he must admit, and he’s disappointed in himself for not visiting earlier. There’s students everywhere, but he notices some other people mixed in too – professors, businesspeople, as well as parents with their children.

He feels a little less weird for creeping around now.

Not that’s he’s creeping. He’s just.. there. To see a certain someone under the guise of looking for a book.

He moseys for a while, from the fiction section to the non-fiction to comics to autobiographies. You’re nowhere to be found – not between the rows of books, not working on any of the desks, not at the centre reception desk.

Until you’re suddenly behind him.

“Spencer?”

He jumps, looking up from the book he’s reading. Your voice is as calming and smooth as always.

“Y/N. Hi.”

“Hi,” Your brows are furrowed, but you’re not disappointed by the unexpected visitor. “What are you doing here?”

He lifts the book he’s holding, an Arthur Conan Doyle, giving a light lipped smile. “I’m just looking. I didn’t realise the college library was so plentiful – did you know the oldest library in the world dates from the seventh century BC?”

“I do, actually.” You point to a poster behind him, which displays that exact fact, “I thought dotting facts around the library would be interesting for the kids. They seem to like them.”

“Learning in young children is socially mediated, so good quality learning environments outside of their schools is crucial for children’s development. So, in a way, you’re enriching their lives beyond understanding.”

You’re flattered at his somewhat far-fetched attempt at complimenting you. It makes your heart flutter.

Why didn’t you contact me, you dimwit?

You open your mouth to ask another question, ask if there’s something he needs help finding, when he beats you to it.

With a firm grip, he slams the book he’s reading shut and says, “I’m lying.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t come here to.. look around. I came here to see you.”

“Oh.”

Spencer doesn’t know what to make of that. You haven’t awkwardly looked away, or stepped back to increase the distance between you. That means something good, right?

“You didn’t text me, so I assumed you weren’t interested.” Your brows twitch, and you back-pedal, “Unless you purposely didn’t text me because you actually weren’t interested and you might be here to see me but for something book-related rather than me-related and I’ve totally humiliated myself.”

“No, no. You’re right. You’re right.” He fiddles with the book in shame, “I should’ve texted you. I just didn’t know what to say and.. Well, it’s stupid.”

Your head jerks a little to the side, something he’s noticed you do a lot, looking patient and too pretty for him to handle. “I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

Spencer thinks back to his conversation with Derek, specifically the reminder that you gave him your number which means you initiated this so yes, you are interested in him.

It’s just.. when he looks at you, he struggles to believe it a little. You’re breath-taking.

“I’m worried I’ll bore you.” He starts light, easing you into what’s been troubling him. He’s emboldened by the fact you’re clearly frustrated he didn’t text you.

You give him a look of horror, “The first time we met I told you I loved your dissertation on geographic regression. I definitely do not think you’re anything anywhere near boring.”

“Okay,” He nods, “What about our ages?”

You’re confused. “What about it?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “It doesn’t.. bother you?”

“Does it.. bother you?”

Usually, answering a question with a question is a sign of deflection, a sign of hiding something. However he doesn’t know why, but Spencer trusts you with his life. Maybe not his life. Maybe his heart.

“Does that silence mean yes?”

He shakes his head, “No. It doesn’t bother me. I just worry that, you know, college years are the so-called best years of your life and I don’t want you to regret being with me, someone older than you, and resent me for it, or something-“

“I think you’re getting way in your head, Spence.” You laugh a little, “We haven’t gone on a single date and you’ve convinced yourself of so much already. For the record, no, your age doesn’t bother me in the slightest. It never has and I doubt it ever will. I think you’re the most fascinating and interesting person on this planet, and if anyone is getting bored with anyone I’m pretty confident it’ll be you getting sick of me. And,” You take a breath, “I think I’m old enough to know what I want, who I want, and what I want is you. If you want me, too.”

Spencer shoves the book back into the bookshelf with a satisfying sound, then turns and quickly places a kiss onto your cheek. It’s completely unexpected and, quite frankly, not something you’d expect from Doctor Reid, but you blush and there’s a definite red colour to Spencer’s cheeks, too.

“I will never, ever, get sick of you.” He says, voice small but firm. “But I don’t want you to regret being with me. Promise me you won’t.”

You give him a look that tells him you think he’s ridiculous. “I promise that I won’t regret being with you. I’d like us to last as long as possible, if I can be picky.”

“I’d like that, too.” He murmurs. The thought of you wanting him for as long as possible almost sends him into a frenzy. He wants to kiss you all over.

You stand close and talk quietly for a while, a little more discussion on a possible date that weekend and a constant stream of compliments from you to Spencer and vice versa, before you realise the time.

“I should probably go. I have a paper to finish.” You smile sadly, a tiny pout forming.

“I understand. Do you think I could read it? When you’re done?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Do you know how terrifying the idea of the Spencer Reid reading my work is? But yes, anything for you.”

Anything for you. Are you trying to kill him?

You turn to leave, refusing to admit how sad leaving Spencer makes you feel, when you stop, “One more thing.”

Spencer hums. He’s not fully paying attention, praying to whatever Gods exist that killers take a break on the weekend so he can take you out on the sweetest date.

“If age is a sore area for you,” There’s mirth in your eyes and Spencer prepares himself, “Does that mean the nickname old man is off the table?”

His lips purse and move towards his nose as he narrows his eyes, giving you a look of faux annoyance, “I am not an old man.”

“Sounds like you’re sensitive, old man.”

As you walk away, you jokingly blow him a kiss to add insult to injury. His pretend glare lasts until your back is turned and he feels his gaze softening to something akin to love.

Spencer thins if the rest of his life is this, you teasing him with that twinkle in your eye and smile on your face, then life is truly the most beautiful thing.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #mine

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

Healer

warnings: feeling trapped, vague experimentation, pain

fifth part of my minecraft au! for this chapter, we jump back to the past! to a first meeting :)

Patton had been walking for a long, long time.

He wasn’t sure where, or why. When he tried to recall, his thoughts would slip out of reach like sand through his fingers. The world was blurry and indistinct, and no matter how long he wandered in the dark, nothing grew any clearer.

The light burned, and the water drowned, and he walked.

Occasionally, a creature that was different would appear, and he would amble along after it with a single minded focus. He’d never caught whatever it was, despite the frantic urging in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he did catch one, and that scared him as much as he could be scared, these days.

Perhaps he was right to be scared, because the next time he found one, it threw something at him!

The glass-shatter impact didn’t exactly hurt, but then there was a wetness left behind, and his limbs abruptly felt heavy and slow. The creature easily stayed out of range, but oddly enough, it didn’t leave.

No, it made sound after sound at him, staying close enough to draw him after it for much longer than any other he’d encountered.

And then, quite suddenly, he didn’t have space to walk anymore.

It took him a few moments to understand what had happened. There were cold metal walls around him, trapping him in a cell barely big enough to pace in.

He didn’t like it, the smallness. He didn’t like the way the strange creature came back again and again, close enough to make his mind turn to that strange violent urge. He especially didn’t like the creature’s glass-and-wet creations, and all the feelings that came with them.

… It was new, remembering things long enough to dislike them.

Over time, the creature’s voice became familiar, too. It would often chirp in excitement or groan in frustration. Sometimes, after a glass-and-wet test went wrong, it would come closer than usual and mumble in a way that made Patton’s chest twinge oddly.

The creature was particularly excited today, making those noises nonstop as it flitted about on the other side of the bars. It hummed the little tune that meant it was going to use a glass-and-wet, and Patton was surprised to find that he remembered this one, the way it made his balance go wobbly.

Unlike before, something cold and unfamiliar was pressed against his mouth. At the creature’s insistence, he consumed it, and immediately regretted as a sudden burning spread through him from the inside-out, as though he'd swallowed the sun itself.

Hours or days passed in a slow, roasting agony, and then, finally, it was over.

When Patton came back to consciousness, he was laying down, and everything was dark and numb. Not quite the dark of night, though.

There was a shuffle nearby, and he turned his head to the sound. He couldn't move very much.

“Ah. It seems you’re awake.” A presence settled at his side as he slowly processed the words. “Can you tap your pointer finger twice for me? It is alright if it takes some time.”

It took longer than expected to remember where his hand was, and longer still to force the space where his fingers should be into feeling. The taps ended up being more like small flickers, but there was a sense of accomplishment nonetheless.

“You—!” The presence cut off sharply, a sudden tension in their words. “Please, could you repeat that action? Two taps, no more or less.”

Patton’s brow wrinkled slightly in focus, the motions coming easier.

Tap. Tap.

There was a ragged inhale, their voice suddenly wavering. “How about three taps?”

Exhaustion was pulling at him, but he thought the voice was familiar, and desperate, and so he managed three taps, almost on an even rhythm.

“It worked.” A warm hand gently settled over his. “It worked! I did it, you can— you can hear me. You can understand me.”

There was something distressing about the hitch in their voice, but Patton was settling back into heavy sleep, and he only managed to twitch his hand under theirs before going under once more.

There were more tests, every time he woke.

Some of them were easy! He would shuffle his feet, count out taps, figure out which limb gentle pressure was being applied to. Over time, feeling came back to his numb flesh, and movement became more and more frequent.

Some of them were more difficult. He’d lose time trying to form complex sentences, feel consumed by sudden fits of claustrophobia, shy away from the sensation of the sun’s heat. He couldn’t respond to even a single question about his past, and day by day, his memories of his time as… not-so-human faded away as well.

Through it all, the stranger who had introduced himself as Logan was at his side, giving him clear instructions and careful support on every task.

He’d learned a lot about the type of person Logan was, day by day. He talked to himself a lot, sometimes clear and sometimes dipping into a thoughtful mutter. It seemed like he’d been alone for a long time. He’d often make a noise of startlement when Patton responded to his rambling, be it through a tap or a simple hum. He always told Patton what he was doing before he touched him, and explained what he was trying to learn when he ran the tests. He kept odd hours but never let himself sound tired.

Patton knew a lot about Logan, but he still didn’t know what Logan looked like. He’d been wearing the blindfold since he’d first woken up out of the cage, and it was the only restraint-- if a strip of cloth over his eyes could be called that-- to remain after all these days. It was the one thing Logan hadn’t explained.

Physically, Patton felt stronger by the day. Emotionally, he wasn’t sure where he would go or what he would do when the tests stopped being necessary. He trusted Logan, though, and more than that, he wanted to help him, after all that he’d gone through for Patton.

He wasn’t quite sure if that trust went both ways, though. Not yet.

“Logan?” he asked, shuffling his shoulders up the headboard of his bed so that he was closer to sitting upright. He reached up to touch the blindfold. “This... off?”

Across the room, the familiar sound of Logan flipping through a book cut off sharply. There was a long moment of silence.

“At your current level of motor skills, yes, you could,” Logan finally settled on, words carefully measured and even. “However, while you are staying with me, I would prefer it if… if you didn’t.”

“Why?” Patton pressed.

Another pause. “I believe that if you see me, you might become… alarmed. And I have no wish to upset or frighten you, particularly while you’re still recovering.”

“Logan,” Patton said, both concerned and a little exasperated. “Not scary. Want this... off. Help?”

“... Very well.” Logan’s voice went stiff as he moved to sit next to Patton, and when his hands carefully unknotted the blindfold, they were rigid like he was tensing for a blow. His cold demeanor was somewhat undercut by the way he automatically moved his arm to keep the day’s light from blinding Patton.

After a few blinks to adjust, the first thing that came into focus was Logan’s hand, carefully loose at his side, and the white, jagged scar lines that marked it. A witch mark, clear as anything.

The next thing he saw was Logan’s face, jaw set harshly and eyes focused on him as though waiting for the inevitable reaction. He could have hidden the mark away, but he was baring it for the world to see, even though he was sure it would be rejected. His loneliness made a lot more sense, suddenly. Patton felt a fond smile pull at his lips as he reached a shaky hand out in greeting.

“Hi, Logan.” The familiar warmth and gentleness of that hand washed away any lingering doubts about his new, not-entirely-human friend. “Still not... scary.”

Logan’s face flickered through a few strange expressions, and wasn’t that going to be interesting, learning a whole new set of tells for him? When he spoke, there was a strange, distantly familiar tremble to his words. “You may be the only one who thinks so.”

Patton frowned at him, squeezing his friend’s hand a little tighter before a flicker of motion on the windowsill caught his eye. A high pitched noise erupted from him completely involuntarily. “Cat!”

The cat in question, a little creature with sleek black fur, eyed him curiously. Logan cleared his throat, reaching out his free hand. The kitty leapt down and ambled over to butt her head into the hand like they were two magnets. “Ah, yes. This is my familiar. Her name is Glowstone.”

The excitement was too much. Patton had to take a moment to compose himself, words tripping over each other and becoming garbled nonsense. He watched with a grin as Glowstone settled gently in her witch’s lap. “Two!”

“Sorry?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Two friends,” Patton told him, gesturing quite seriously between him and the golden-eyed cat. “A good start.”

Logan shook his head, unable to hide the little amused upturn to his lips. “If you say so.”

He did say so. And if Patton had his way, there’d be many more friends to come.

#minecraft au #sanders sides #ts logan #ts patton #My writing #writing #logan's witch mark is a lichtenberg figure!

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half-bakedboy · 3 years

Text

when you’re not listening (read on ao3)

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “You don’t want to kiss me, Buck.”

“How do you know that?” Buck shot back. He would realize later that he never denied her accusation. He stared her down almost desperately and saw more sympathy in her eyes than he liked. It made him feel vulnerable and he hated wearing his heart on his sleeve with anyone, especially Taylor.

“Because you’re just going to wish it was him and neither of us deserves that."

A Season 4 Episode 12: Treasure Hunt Fix It (contains spoilers for the ep)

There was no doubt in Buck’s mind that Taylor Kelly was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life. She had those big blue eyes that Buck could compare to skies and oceans with the little specks of green that were scattered through them, and her hair was brighter than most of the fires Buck had put out in his line of work. She was smart, cunning, and witty and she could put Buck in his place with a raise of her eyebrow or a single well-formed word on her perfectly lined lips.

Buck was leaning in before he could think about what he was doing, the double shots of tequila already thrumming through his veins and dizzying his head just enough for all coherent thought to disappear. She was complaining about something — someone — that was related to the treasure hunt they had teamed up to try and figure out for the last few days and was seemingly not paying attention to the way Buck moved closer to her.

She never paid attention to him the way he did her. He wondered if she thought he was pretty; if she ever compared his hair to a sandy beach that led to the ocean that was his eyes. He wondered if she ever took a second to think about what adjectives she would use to describe Buck. Would she call him intelligent? Lovable? Stupid? Sarcastic? Annoying? Exhausting?

He shook his head to focus his mind and eyes back on Taylor who was scanning the map in front of her like it held all the answers. Buck knew it didn’t have any for him. It was just another way for him to keep his life exciting and hold those around him even closer. He got to spend the last few days with his best friends and he wondered if they cared as much as he did. He figured Eddie did and that thought alone had a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What does Eddie do?” Taylor asked, breaking him out of his haze.

“He’s a firefighter…” Buck explained slowly because Taylor must have hurt herself looking for all the clues or something. She smacked him on the arm.

“You were rambling - which we will talk about more in a second - but then you stopped, got this goofy smile on your face, and said, ‘Eddie does.’” Buck blushed. He could blame it on the alcohol, but they both knew that wasn’t it.

“How much of my internal monologue did you hear?” He asked instead, resting both hands on the table as far apart as they could go so he had a little space between him and Taylor.

“Well, I heard you think about trying to kiss me which you quickly convinced yourself off of. Thank god, too, cause I didn’t wanna have to deny you again.” Before Buck could argue, she gave him a look that shut him up almost as quickly as Athena’s did. “Then I think you were scrolling through a thesaurus in your head? Then you talked about the treasure hunt and then, as usual, you stopped thinking at all because of Eddie.”

“What do you mean as usual?” Buck asked. He probably should’ve been embarrassed that she had knocked him down so many pegs with just a few sentences, but he was more interested in why she was looking at him like he was an idiot.

“We’ll get to that,” Taylor said, waving her hand in dismissal.

“This isn’t the news, Taylor, you can just tell me what’s going on instead of teasing it for the ten o’clock story,” Buck complained, sliding his hands across the table until a pin pricked his skin sharply.

“We’ve known each other for a little bit of time now, yeah?” Taylor asked, resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder and squeezing. He glanced up at her and nodded. “So you could say that I know you pretty well considering?”

Buck nodded again and agreed, “Considering I can count the number of people that do on one hand, yeah.”

“So will you trust me when I say what I have to say?” Who was Buck to argue with her when she stared at him with too much sympathy in her eyes. She rested a hand on Buck’s cheek and began, “You are inquisitive and always searching out new information even if it’s unimportant. You’re impassioned about everything you do in life. You’re absolutely ridiculous in every sense of the word. You’re sensitive and captivating and endearing and reliable and trustworthy and thoughtful, and—”

Buck leaned in to kiss her. He didn’t have to think about it because, after everything she had said, he knew she must feel the same as he had the last few days. But then his lips met her cheek and her hand smacked over the small bubble of laughter that escaped her mouth.

“I was going to say impulsive next,” Taylor noted as she glanced up at Buck again, leaning back as if she was scared he would try to make another move.

“God, I’m so sorry, I’m— You just said all of those things, and I just got carried away and—”

“Who said those were my words?” Taylor noted easily, maintaining eye contact even as Buck furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I am way too buzzed to play this game right now, Taylor,” Buck said, pulling his hands away from Taylor’s waist and backing away.

“Have you ever heard the way Eddie speaks about you?” Taylor asked before he could get too far away.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Buck said honestly. Sure, he knew they were best friends and he knew how he spoke of Eddie, but he had always assumed that Eddie never talked about him. He was a man of few words and Buck wasn’t sure why any of them would be wasted on him.

“I’ve spent all of twenty-four hours being the third wheel attached to the fine-tuned engine that is Buck and Eddie. While you were off finding more clues and gathering information, Eddie was telling me all about how lucky I was to have someone as impassioned and sensitive and reliable and thoughtful and selfless and—”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” Buck said, blushing deeper when he thought of Eddie saying those things about him. He wasn’t sure why his stomach chose to flutter in excitement or why his heart sped up just a little quicker than necessary.

“He never mentioned that you were oblivious, though, but I’m assuming that’s because he’s just as bad,” Taylor noted, staring Buck down like he was a news story she couldn’t wait to crack. Buck said nothing and avoided her eyes at all costs, staring down at the hole in his sweater and wishing he could disappear into it.

“I don’t understand what any of this has to do with us,” Buck relented, turning back toward Taylor and crossing his arms over his chest. “We make a great team and we could be even better if we just—” He stalked forward again, sighing when Taylor’s hands rested on his chest and patted gently.

“You don’t want to kiss me, Buck.”

“Because you’re just going to wish it was him and neither of us deserves that,” Taylor said softly, trailing a hand to cup Buck’s cheek, sliding her thumb comfortingly across his cheekbone. Buck leaned into it, relenting to the softness and allowing himself for one moment to be happy that he had a friend like Taylor.

“There’s a really narrow line between friends and… more,” Buck stated with a defeated huff of laughter. Taylor froze and glanced down at the map before smirking up at Buck.

“I know where the treasure is.”

----------------------------------

Eddie could be described as many things, but currently, the only word he could think of was jealous. His skin was still crawling from witnessing the easy way Buck and Taylor interacted, reading each other’s minds like they were the same damn person and smiling at each other like they had cracked a secret code while Eddie tagged along. He was still a little pissed that Buck had decided to go to Taylor first - over Eddie - to search for the stupid treasure in the first place.

He wasn’t even interested in finding the five million dollars. Although it would be nice to provide some wiggle room for whatever Christopher wanted to do in the future, he didn’t need it. What he had wanted was to spend some time with Buck and really figure out the feelings that were suddenly clouding his mind whenever he so much as looked at his best friend. Spending a few days doing a ridiculous task with Buck seemed like the perfect excuse to try to figure out where the sudden urge to break up with his girlfriend in favor of pursuing a relationship with his best friend came from.

Then Taylor Kelly happened. He was sure everyone in the firehouse was increasingly aware of the way his lips turned down and his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at the mere mention of her name or how seeing her ridiculous(ly beautiful) face on the television made him want to ban Buck from using electronics again. He didn’t think it would slide, though, because for some reason, Buck liked her and that was enough of a punch to the gut to have Eddie scrubbing down his dinner dishes furiously in the sink.

When the knock at his door sounded, he slammed the plate he had been over cleaning into the sink, taking a deep breath before turning toward the door. That last person he expected to see was Buck leaning against the doorframe with an almost concerned smirk on his face.

“What did your dishware ever do to you?” He asked, swinging his keys around his finger. Eddie saw the bright red cap on the key that belonged to his home and regretted giving it to Buck for just a moment. He would have given anything to be able to prepare himself for Buck to be in front of him considering, well, everything.

“He had it coming. I can’t prove it, but I think he was conspiring with the forks,” Eddie responded, shrugging his shoulders. Buck laughed and all of the pent-up anxiety drained from Eddie’s body.

“I’m sure you’ll get a confession out of him sooner or later,” Buck said, resting his head against the frame and licking his lips. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he would think that Buck looked a little sad or even… nervous.

“I thought you were getting together with Taylor tonight to drown your sorrows?” Eddie asked. He couldn’t help himself. The entire reason he’d been angry all night in the first place was because he knew Buck was hanging out with her. Eddie glanced at the clock and saw it was almost midnight. It didn’t make sense that Buck had shown up at all, especially with how late it was.

“We did a little drowning. Turns out I’m more of a lightweight on tequila than I thought.” Eddie narrowed his eyes and Buck clearly knew why he was suddenly angry. “Taylor got me an uber. I didn’t drive here,” Buck defended, holding up his hands in surrender.

“And why are you here? Not that you’re not welcome, I just figured you’d be spending the night with your—”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Buck interrupted, clearly exasperated at the accusation. Eddie wasn’t sure whether to let the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips grow and risk his obvious pleasure at the secondary confirmation. “She figured out where the treasure is.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “She found it and you’re here? Buck, why aren’t you with her to get it?” Eddie asked, stalking toward the door to slip on his shoes and grab his keys. Buck’s hand on his arm slowed him down and when he glanced at Buck, he had that soft smile on his face that Eddie was grateful to recognize as one of his Diaz-specific looks.

“If I’m gonna find five million dollars worth of treasure, it’s not gonna be with her,” Buck said simply. Eddie felt his stomach flutter and that jealous heat that surged through him turned down to a simmer as Buck stared down at him.

“Yeah?” Eddie said because he wasn’t sure how else to respond. It was a simple statement but it held the entire universe to Eddie and he wondered if Buck realized that.

“The way I see it,” Buck began, stroking his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand, “we have two choices. One, we go get the treasure and split it between the four of us; you, me, Taylor, and Paul.”

“Paul?”

“The cameraman. Does no one know his name?” Buck asked, shaking his head as if to bring himself back to the subject.

“And number two?” Eddie asked, staring down at the hand that held his so delicately. Buck slid a finger from his free hand underneath Eddie’s chin to force their eye contact and Eddie would never be able to explain away the audible gulp or the way his face reddened at the intensity of Buck’s gaze.

“Or two, we stay here and finally have that conversation you seem to be having with everyone else besides me,” Buck noted, narrowing his eyes knowingly. Eddie groaned and pulled his hand away, only marginally upset by the loss of contact. Buck’s laughter rang through the air again and Eddie wasn’t as comforted by it that time around.

“Seriously? Was I that obvious?” Eddie asked, sending a pleased glance in Buck’s direction.

“It was Taylor that really convinced me. I was feeling sorry for myself and I tried to put the moves on her—”

“You what—?” Eddie interrupted only to be waved off by Buck.

“Lapse of judgment on my part, but it’s not important. What is important,” Buck took a deep breath and with each word moved a little closer, “is that I think you’re incredible. You’re good-hearted and loyal, kind and full of forgiveness even when I clearly don’t deserve it. You love your son more than anything in this world and don’t care who knows it. You’re… everything? And I’m not sure why it took me so long—”

Eddie leaned in to kiss him.

He wasn’t thinking, hadn’t been for the last few days of anything besides that moment where their lips might touch and all of the pieces of Eddie’s life would slot into place. Kissing Buck felt like finally taking a sip of water or dipping his body into the ocean after the hottest day of the summer and touching him, holding Buck’s face in his hands steadied him so much, he wasn’t sure he had ever been so balanced. There was five million dollars waiting for him somewhere in L.A. but Eddie couldn’t bring himself to care about it. Nothing was worth more than finally having Buck exactly how he had dreamed. When Buck pulled away, the grin on his lips was enough for Eddie to realize that everything was going to be okay; more than okay.

The next day when he sat around the lunch table with his new family surrounding him, he could only focus on the way Buck caught his eye from across the table and the nudge of his foot against Eddie’s when they thought no one was paying attention. He was sure the smiles and soft looks they gave each other were anything but subtle. It was Taylor that surprised him. She raised her eyebrows at Eddie, her eyes darting between the two men carefully as if asking if her secret plan had worked. Eddie nodded, smiling widely as he mouthed her a thank you.

It wasn’t enough just to thank her but it was a start and he had more important things to focus on. Eddie glanced back at the most important thing--Buck.

#buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #911 #911 on fox #911 spoilers #911 fic #911 coda fic #my writing #this was supposed to be a quick one #but almost 3k later #OOOOPS #hope you like it!! <3

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 3 years

Text

Team Vacation

Summary: Reader and Quill have had a fwb relationship for a while but have both secretly caught feelings. During a team vacation, Pepper manages to get Reader to reveal her feelings to an eavesdropping Quill.

TW/CW: Peter Quill x Stark!Reader. I’m not sure how to describe the timeline/au/whatchamacallit but basically none of the heroes died I’m looking at you Tony, Nat, and Vision or retired I’m looking at you Steve, no not you Clint, you’re perfectly fine but it is post Endgame. For clarity’s sake, Peter = Peter Parker, Quill = Peter Quill lol. Pretty fluffy but also some hints at a fwb relationship. Obvi Quill & Gamora aren’t a thing in this weird ass AU I’ve cooked up lmao.

Requested?: No

Word Count: 1,343

Author’s Note: I’m honestly not sure where this idea came from but here it is! I will say that “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” by Elvin Bishop came to mind while writing it lol. It actually turned out a lot better than I thought it would XD. I hope you enjoy it and as always Requests are Open!

I press play on the Awesome Mix on Spotify as Quill, Gamora, and Thor finally make their way over to my car, after convincing Groot, Rocket, Drax, and Mantis into an SUV with Nat & Steve. Quill loses the battle for shotgun as Thor simply lifts him up out of his way and takes a seat in the front passenger seat. Gamora and I both stifle our laughs to save Quill’s ego. As I shift into drive and begin following the SUV, Quill grumbles something about, “Why does it have to be raining? The day we have to arrive on Earth and it decides to rain.”

I see Gamora roll her eyes in my rearview mirror as Thor tries to cheer Quill up, “You’ll love Stark’s home. It is very cozy indeed and there is lots of land and space to roam. It will be quite an adventure.”

“Why again did he insist that we join in on this team vacation?” Peter inquires.

I chuckle at his whiny demeanor, “Call it extending an Olive Branch. After everything we all went through, he and Steve decided everyone deserves a bit of a vacation and Steve wants to welcome you guys into the family. Besides, even Carol was able to clear her schedule for a bit and join us.” His next bout of mumbling and grumbling is indecipherable so I train my focus back on the road. Within no time the rain retrears and we are turning onto the long, winding driveway that leads to my brother’s estate. As we pull up to the house, Morgan races out to greet everyone and of course her big “brother” is right in tow behind her. Peter lifts Morgan onto his shoulders so that she is eye level with Thor; they’re both giggling their heads off.

Tony makes his way over to help carry luggage into the house and Pepper joins Nat in watching Peter and Thor chase Morgan around the yard. I step out of the car and join Quill on the other side, “Do you really think it’ll be so terrible to just spend some time with family and friends? It’ll be nice to feel like you don’t have to be constantly doing something won’t it?” With this, I leave him to his moping and join Tony in carrying in luggage.

Once all the luggage has been carried in and delivered to the proper rooms, I make my way to my own room to change clothes and get ready for dinner which Tony says will be ready soon. I find my room easily and close the door behind me as I enter. A mischievous grin makes its way onto my face as I hear Quill singing in the bathroom as he showers. I quickly change clothes but before I can finish Quill is exiting the bathroom and leaning against the door frame, “I was wondering who I’d be bunking with. Seeing as there’s only one bed I was desperately hoping it’d be you.”

Knowing Pepper and everything I had confided in her about, she probably did this on purpose and I make a mental note to thank her later as I pull on my flannel and make my way towards the door to join the others outside, stopping on the way to kiss Quill on the cheek, “You can thank Pep for that. See you outside, dress warm it’ll get cold even with a bonfire going.”

I find Pepper in the kitchen sipping hot cocoa, “Assuming you’re happy with your roommate. Hot cocoa?”

I nod, “He seems to be as well, and yes please.”

“Well, do be careful because your brother will be asking questions when he puts two and two together and realizes you’re not bunking alone as planned,” she says as she starts a hot cocoa k-cup in the Keurig.

I giggle, “You and I both know it’ll be a hot minute before he takes a breather and notices anything. He’ll be busy with making sure no one destroys anything important.”

She hands me a mug of steaming hot cocoa, “Fair enough.” I smile as we both wander out onto the porch. I watch as Bucky and Sam bicker back and forth about who knows what as they man the grill with Dr. Banner. Rocket is begging Tony to let him light the bonfire with a flamethrower. Gamora and Nat have made themselves comfy on the porch swing and Pepper and I join them, taking seats in a couple of rocking chairs. The four of us laugh as Nat points out that Steve is having to explain the concept of a bonfire to Drax and Mantis. Groot is talking to the large oak tree from which a tire swing hangs. This tire swing holds a still giggling Morgan and is being pushed back and forth by Thor and Peter. The only ones unaccounted for as Quill steps out onto the porch, are Clint, who is arriving tomorrow with his wife and kids, and Wanda and Vision, who will be arriving shortly, they had to stop at a store for Paprikash ingredients.

My eyes follow Quill out to the fire where Tony and Rocket are still locked in debate about the flamethrower but my focus is torn away by the women giggling around me. I glare at the three of them, “What?”

“I honestly didn’t think you’d be as obvious about it as Quill is,” Gamora laughs.

“I’m- I- How?” I stutter out.

“Oh please, if anyone so much as mentions Earth or Stark or anything else having to do with you, Quill is off on in a daydream or rambling on about how amazing you are. I’d be surprised if he hasn’t fooled around and fell in love.”

I tear my gaze away as Nat chimes in, “So I wasn’t mistaken in thinking that those two had a little something going on? (Y/N), was quite excited when Steve mentioned wanting the Guardians here for this little vacation.”

Pepper nearly dies of laughter, “Oh they have more than just a little something going on. I wish they’d hurry up and admit their feelings for each other.”

My head whips back around, “I’ll admit, he’s a hell of a good time but I do not have feelings for Quill,” I state defensively. However, the look Nat gives me says she calls my bluff and knows I’m lying, so does Pep and Gamora.

“Yes, you do. You know how I can tell? I’ve known you for years and never have I seen you as hung up on a guy as you are on him. If you didn’t have feelings for him, you would be flirtier with other guys and still go on dates,” Pepper states and I almost think I notice her eyes flick to the side and back but brush it off as her checking on Morgan or Tony.

I sigh in defeat, “Fine, you caught me but let’s be careful about Tony, I’m not sure how he’d react.” Just as the words tumble out of my mouth, Tony is yelling that the food is ready and I’m dragged off to join everyone else around the now lit bonfire and the grill and tables laden with food. Morgan waves at me from Thor’s shoulders as I approach. I wave back and because I wasn’t watching where I was going, I bump into someone. This someone chuckles and pulls me in front of them to wrap their arms around me and I quickly realize it is Quill, “Glad to know you feel the same.” I look up at him and as he kisses my forehead, a smile grows on my face. I glance over at the ladies and they all grin triumphantly. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Rocket forking over some money to Thor. I wouldn’t doubt that they had a bet running about me and Quill. I find this amusing but decide to tune into the speech my brother is giving and soon he finishes with, “Everyone enjoy your stay! Let’s dig in!”

Masterlist

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kenmasgameboy · 4 years

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【ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ】

oikawa toru has so many girls falling at his feet, but it wasn’t always like this. when y/n met him there was no one yet to inflate his ego, when he was pure to himself, the person he is when it isn’t performative. she fell in love. after forcing a rejection from him, where he says he never saw her as a girl, she’s determined to become the absolute perfect girl for every one except him.

profiles: [ student council ] [ on the block ]

masterlist

listen to the mixtape while you read

↬ chapter 1 ➺ chapter 2 ➺ now ➺ chapter 3

congratulations readers! you’ve unlocked a memory from age 15.

a/n: this is a memory from your last time speaking to oikawa, this information is vital to the next chapter. Tell me how you feel <3

warnings: cursing; angst angst angst with a side of angst and pining

[ heartbreak. ]

You knew you had to do something about the quickening pace of your heart. High school started in 10 days. You and all your friends in the neighborhood had gotten into Aoba Johsai. You'd all be attending there. Even though you all had made friends at school, these people had more or less become your family. They were your brothers, who always played with you at home. The only ones who could match your own chaotic energy. And finally, for the first time all 5 of you would be going to the same school.

It was going to be a dream, except for the fact that you can't look Oikawa Tooru in the eye anymore.

This wasn't just a crush anymore, this was just painful. Those butterflies you used to feel in your stomach now were traveling through your bloodstream and into your hands and weakened your knees. Every time you saw him you wanted to shout that you loved him.

Do it, before it's too late and you regret it.

Matsukawa's words rang in your ears as you laid in the grass outside your grandparents home. What once was a nostalgic feeling now filled you with dread. It wouldn't be long until you were in this house alone. The peach filled sky was all you could see, innocent fluffy clouds mocking you as they moved the long grass in tune to tickle your cheekbones.

You covered your face with your hands, trying to shield yourself from the incoming pain you knew you were due to endure. You had to do it. It's been too long, it didn't matter how many girls had done this before you, no matter how many would come after. You had finally admitted to yourself that you love Oikawa Tooru. His ambition, his zeal for life, his soft side that only his close friends get to experience. You wanted all of it. All of it before it was all gone. You wanted to continue to sit and wait to walk home with him after his practices, you wanted to go to his house and listen to him cry after he lost, you wanted to celebrate with him when he wins an award he achieved through his own hard work and determination; you wanted all of it. You wanted him to congratulate you on your win, you wanted him to offer his jacket to you, you wanted him to kiss you. You wanted him to want you.

"I thought I'd find you here." As if you manifested him, the man himself was leaning over you, tickling your hand over your face that you quickly retracted in shock.

"Oh my god—! Oikawa, what the hell! You scared me!" You pushed him and he only chuckled enjoying your reaction. His chuckle turned into a groan of release as he laid down next to you. You both laid there in an agreed silence. The tension eating at the inside of your cheek.

"And now I'm 'Oikawa' huh? I don't think you've ever called me that." Oikawa ran his fingers upwards as if he was going to catch the wind between his fingers, "I heard you're not doing volleyball in high school?"

"Nope."

"Why? You're really, really good. You’ve worked so hard. I'm sure they'd love to have a player like you–" Oikawa started but you couldn't bear to have this conversation with another friend of yours.

"Is this why you came to see me? Just to convince me to stick with volleyball?" You said, your words spitting venom. You were already hurt by him acting like everything was normal.

"L/N Y/N, ever the blunt." He sighed, you couldn't help but feel insecure at that remark. Is your bluntness why he didn't like you? "Are you going to tell me why you've been ignoring me or do I just have to put the pieces together myself?"

"I don't know, I thought you liked a challenge." You sighed, only half giving him sarcasm.

"You've never been a challenge to me, little girl. I guess, until now. I really have no idea what's wrong. I've given you space, but you've practically ignored me all summer. Did I do something? Did someone say something to you?" He asked, his chest puffed out. He didn't like this, and you knew you were hurting him.

Since you were 6, you saw him every day. Only missing days where you were on vacation or he was traveling. Every day you saw him. Until the beginning of summer break, when you cut all ties with just Tooru. Still keeping in contact with everyone else and with his sister in your own small group that just made sense. But you couldn't see him for a while. You needed to figure out your own issues first. You ignored his calls, his texts, told your grandpa to tell him you weren’t in if he showed up. You needed a clear reason for what you needed from him before you could face him. You needed to put how you felt into words and you needed space away from him to do that. You couldn’t have another one of those memories added to your shelf...

The many memories of you and Tooru leaving your classroom to buy lunch, just for another girl to approach him and give you their best death glare to try and scare you. You were always attached to the hip, a symptom of being best friends since you were 6. It wasn’t a problem until the end of middle school that Tooru started to get more admirers than the average guy. He rejected all of them, some more politely than others, something that gave you hope in your insides because you wanted him to reject everyone but you. You knew exactly how detested he was by them at first. Thinking how shallow they were, you never wanted to be like that. But it all shattered in the last month of middle school before graduation when you forgot a card you meant to give your underclassmen friends in the classroom.

“Tooru-kun! I like you! I like you a lot. I’ve always liked you. Please go out with me?” You stopped before entering the classroom. It wasn’t the first confession you had overheard, half of you thought you should leave, but you needed to hear his answer again.

“You’re very pretty. I like you too.” It was his voice but you wished with everything in you that it wasn’t. Your heart sank down to your stomach, you wanted to cry, scream, laugh all at once. It was too much for your heart to endure alone. You didn’t remember the rest as you ran back down the hallway, running into the first friend you could find which happened to be poor Issei that day.

If you had gone to Iwaizumi would it have been different? Naeko? Makki? No. You knew they would’ve all said the same thing just in different levels of bluntness. To just tell him, that it has always been obvious to everyone but him. But now he had a girlfriend, how were you supposed to say that to someone who had a girlfriend? It wasn’t like you could see him anymore either.

"No. It's nothing like that." You admitted. Blinking away the memories before they turned into tears, you sighed your release heavily. You needed to do this, needed to rip the band aid off this friendship and accept your rejection you knew was coming. So you could start as a new person next week at Aoba Johsai.

"Is it Grandpa?" He asked, the way he said it as if your grandfather was his, too. Come to think of it, it was probably your grandfather who told him where you were. That little snitch.

"He's okay." You lied. He wasn’t okay, hadn’t been okay for a while. Your time with him was so limited.

"Then I really don't get you, we've been friends for years I don't get why now you're suddenly not telling me things and calling me by my last name? So it must've been something I've said. I'm sorry, for whatever it was, just please go back to being my friend I’m desperate—" He started rambling, ever so easy to speak his mind. You admired that quality in him, but you couldn't let it go on, if you did you’d just cave again.

“How’s your girlfriend?” You asked plainly, he’s never seen you so unanimated before. Honestly, it scared him and made his heart pick up from it already abnormal rate it went when he was around you.

“She’s fine, why? That’s not important to me right now. Did she say something to you? Because you know my friends are more important to me than–”

"I don't want to be your friend, Tooru." You admitted, not being able to make eye contact with him as you sit up and pull your knees to your chest. This was it, you couldn’t hold this back anymore and continue to be in this self-loathing nightmare. "I don't know how long I've felt this way but, I like you as more than a friend. A lot more. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I wanted to be happy for you, but even as your friend I didn’t even notice you liked her. I thought if I was apart from you it would just be able to fizzle out but my feelings didn't stop. Even now all I think about it wanting to hold your hand again but not in the dumb way we did when we were kids its in the romantic way."

Oikawa was speechless, the ever talkative and frankly annoying blabber mouth couldn’t form the words he wanted to say. Words just felt dry in his mouth as if they would come out as nothing but dust.

"So that's why I've been ignoring you. I didn't want to have this conversation." You sighed, your eyes not being able to form tears as you stared down at the grass. Your chest felt heavy, as if nothing you said could do anything to lighten the load after holding everything in for so, so long.

He still couldn't speak. For the first time on his life Oikawa Tooru has no words he could say to you. How could he have been so blind? You only gave him maybe a minute to process before you were talking again.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything. You’re taken anyways, and I don’t say any of this expecting anything from you. I know what you're going to say to me now. I've heard you say it to a bunch of girls before me. And as much as I wish I was different, I know I'm not." You begged, hearing you beg to be hurt put an arrow through his heart. Is this what you really thought of him?

"Is this a joke? What the hell is happening?" Tooru spoke finally, his voice dry and unable to handle tears as you spoke. Poor boy did not know how to handle the emotion of feeling trapped, backed into a corner and oblivious. Why hadn’t he known? Why didn’t he look? Notice? Why did nobody tell him and save him from himself.

"I wish." You chuckled then, "Honestly I'm surprised you never noticed sooner I've been told I was not good at hiding it."

You thought of Iwaizumi and Matsukawa confronting you about this little crush almost 2 years ago. They were relentless in their teasing after you finally admitted it.

“You successfully fooled me. Here I thought we were best friends who told each other everything.” Oikawa said, clenching his jaw a bit. is he really reacting with anger right now?

“Don’t do that. It’s not like you told me who you liked either, we weren’t really best friends, you treated me like your sister. Not like your friend.” You told him, your honesty striking him like lightning.

"That’s not true! You know what? I've decided that you're not allowed to stop being my friend. That's not up to you to just stop being my friend because you're just thinking too much. Or you're going through puberty and everyone says you need a boyfriend and I'm just the best option." He huffed, the way he shrugged off your feelings as if they were just you thinking too much pissed you off. You knew sometimes he was an asshole to girls who confessed, you can’t believe you thought you were naive enough to be treated any different. It’s not like you were the prettiest girl in school like his girlfriend.

"Stop being selfish, you absolute dickhead. You need to stop thinking you can control everything in your life, and I’m one of them. Why don’t you trust me? I'm not thinking too much, I'm not thinking I need a boyfriend. You think I’m influenced that easily? You know I've never felt that I needed a boyfriend, I still don’t. I just needed you." You stood up, looking down at him. He was hurt by what you were saying to him, he didn't expect any of it. He didn't know how to deal with these emotions in his chest. How were you so calm right now while turning your back on him?

"You're the one being selfish! Why is it either I'm your boyfriend or nothing at all? What the hell! But I’m not stopping being your friend either. You can stop being mine, that’s fine, but I’m not stopping being yours.. You idiot. Of course, I can't be your boyfriend." He huffed, stopping before spilling anything else. He was in a tight spot, he couldn’t say the things he wanted to say right then. What was the procedure he was supposed to follow in these conversations? He gripped the grass in his fists.

You crouched back down to be at eye level with him. What he said just hurt but it didn't change the way you felt about him. Some sick part of you felt better just by hearing that, like you could close a chapter on this unrelenting and painful novel.

"Say it while looking me in the eyes." You said, your face more stone cold than you thought you could manage. This painful season of your life was never going to beat you, and this was nothing but a checklist of another thing you needed to get over. "Why can't you be my boyfriend? I need more of a reason than the fact that you’re in a relationship, I need a reason more than that otherwise I’ll just wait and I don’t deserve that."

They boy scanned your face with widened brown eyes, as deep as ever. Normally you found comfort in them, it disgusted you that even now as you begged him to rip apart your heart and bury it in the ground they still made you feel at ease. They were probably the only reason why you weren’t crying. He was the one who looked as though he might cry, but he could tell you were different. Something had happened, what had changed about the face he thought he knew so well. You were like a marble sculpture of yourself.

"Y/N, seriously this is too much." He swallowed, but you didn't let up. Just continued to stare, your jaw clenched as you waited for him to say something, "If I do, will you keep being my friend?"

"I don't know. Regardless, I can’t be, not right now. But I need to hear you say it. I need to move on. You want me to be happy, right? Just like how I want you to be happy." Your shoulders released their tension, "It has to be more painful trying to convince myself you're going to love me one day than ripping this band-aid off now and moving on. So, please."

This is really what you needed to be happy?

"I– I just never really thought about you like.. as a girl, I guess? Other girls liking me felt good, but you liking me makes me feel different. Because you've always just been my friend and my neighbor." Oikawa said it while looking into your eyes, tears starting to prickle out, "I'm sorry, I don't think I can like you in that way. Ever."

"Thanks. Bye, Oikawa-san." You stood up, calmly walking away. It hurt, it hurt everywhere.

“Wait– Y/N! I don’t– just give me time! Or, no. Talk to me when you’re ready! Please.”

When school started the next week, you ended up in different classes. You didn’t walk to school together. You had different friends, different teams, different lives. But you still rejoined volleyball club. Tooru broke up with his girlfriend, he didn’t accept anymore love confessions even though they grew incredibly high since he entered high school. You still were neighbors, sometimes glancing over just to see the you pull your blinds shut. If an outsider didn’t know before, nobody would know that you’d ever spoken to each other.

It’s over, you told this to yourself every night. Not knowing that across the street, a different phrase would be by the boy who always kept his blinds open.

【ｆｕｎ　ｆａｃｔｓ】

➺ your grandfather passed away a year after this in your second year of high school. you only told your best friends, nobody at school knows you live alone now because your aunt is your legal guardian on your school transcripts. your grandparents left you as the legal owner of the paid off house at age 16.

➺ naeko told her parents, and they will sometimes come by to invite you to have dinner with their family. even at these dinners you and tooru don’t speak more than small talk.

➺ tooru would leave a flower on your doorstep every day for the month after your grandfathers passing, it was anonymous and you still have no idea who actually left them. he thought you’d be upset if you knew he was doing it.

➺ your grandfather was one of the most important mentos in tooru’s life, he genuinely didn’t know how to react when he found out he was gone.

➺ issei comforted you for 4 hours and skipped class with you after overhearing tooru and his new girlfriend. he really wanted to go find the boys and go rough him up for making you cry the way you did. but he just sat there and listened to you.

➺ naeko still feels conflicted about whose side to take, and is grateful that neither of you made her. some nights though it gets so tough that she runs to hajime’s house just to get away from a scene.

➺ its a very big motivation for hajime to fix this situation so he never has to hear naeko be so stressed about walking on a tight rope around her very best friend and role model and her brother who she also admires (though she’d never tell him directly)

➺ nobody really knows who is actually at fault for the end of their friendship

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asian-hero · 4 years

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Too Impatient to Wait Another Lifetime (2/3)

A/N: I’m not going to lie, but the reason I didn't post this for a while is because the last one did so poorly compared to my other fics, so I figured that no one would want to read this anymore :(

But I truly love this story, and this is probably my favorite part that I wrote for this, so I wanted to share it anyways :) Welcome to the medieval/fantasy era

Pairing: Prince!Todoroki/Bard!Reader

Summary: The idea of soulmates is often one that’s heavily debated over. Some believe in the idea that there’s one special person out there for everyone, whereas others believe that it’s near impossible for just one person to be your “perfect match.” While you can’t necessarily see if someone is your soulmate, when you finally find that person, you get a feeling of euphoria that you’ve never experienced before. Unfortunately for you, someone must find it hilarious to constantly separate you from your soulmate every single time, in every single lifetime. So, what happens when you realize that you don’t want to wait any longer for your happily ever after?

Words: 8,367

If there was one thing that Prince Todoroki Shouto hated, more than the weighty title at the beginning of his name, more than the isolation he felt from being the heir to the throne, it would be the seemingly pointless balls his father would insist upon.

In all honesty, he knew why his father would put on these lavish events. Since Shouto was the crown prince, only due to a falling out between his father and his two eldest brothers, the fate of the Todoroki lineage had also rested upon his shoulders, and in order to keep their family tree growing, he needed a wife. However, since he was never allowed outside the walls of the castle, these balls were put in place in order to find the most “suitable” wife for Shouto.

Suitable for his father, of course.

So, Shouto would hold his tongue, not daring to argue with his father’s wishes, though he wished nothing more than to just lay low for one night, to at least pretend that he was a normal person, one who wouldn’t be forced into a loveless marriage. Instead, he’d quietly submit to the demands of the King, sitting on a throne next to his mother, watching as lord’s and lady’s danced around, mingling with one another. He did his best to keep in the disgust whenever a prominent lord would step up, their daughter standing behind them, and attempt to sell the royal family on one of their own, as if their daughters were simply tools used to gain an entry into a world they desperately wanted to be apart of. Every single time he’d come face to face with a desperate lord, he wished that he could just give them his status, with no charge. After all, they seemed to want it more than he did.

It was safe to say that Todoroki Shouto hated balls. He found them to be tedious and repetitive.

However, tonight was different.

Not fundamentally, no. Shouto still sat upon his throne, doing his best to look somewhat interested as his father droned on and on about some girl from a dukedom not too far from them. As his eyes drifted from person to person on the dance floor, he found himself pausing when his eyes land upon a woman dancing around while playing the lute, singing a lovely tune that carried throughout the entire ballroom. She was accompanied by a few other musicians, who seemed almost as jolly as she was. Shouto wasn’t quite sure what drew him to her. Perhaps it was her melodic voice, or maybe it was the semblance of freedom that her entire person exuded. She both irritated him and intrigued him, and that mix of emotions was what made his feet move towards you, seemingly not caring to hear what his father had to say for his sudden movement. He wasn’t able to make it far, though, for as soon as he entered the dance floor, he was met with a few women, some of which he recognized belonged to powerful dukedoms, who begged him for a dance. Even as he tried to step away politely, trying to get over towards the bard who captured his attention, they still persisted. He did his best to try and escape them without seeming like an asshole, but it was becoming more and more difficult.

Across the dance floor, singing the last note of the last song before intermission, stood you, a slightly goofy smile etched across your face. Coming down from the high of your latest performance, you quickly gave a bow, though you doubted that anyone noticed, and walked over to your group, giving out words of encouragement and praise, as most of them had never preformed at such a large gathering before, let alone a ball for the King. You laughed along with your group, listening to the newer ones ramble on about how grand the ball looks, how lucky you all were to be in the presence of such high ranking people.

As you continued to converse with those around you, you found yourself looking over towards the sea of people, who had now taken a pause in their dancing, opting to talk amongst themselves. Though they never spared even a glance at you or your friends, nor would they ever stoop as low as to talk to the likes of you, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth at the thought that they all had danced to your music. Not some fancy, uptown musicians that the King could’ve easily hired, but you and your traveling group of musicians. Though you tried not to get a big head about it, you found yourself welling up with pride.

You were so absorbed into your own world that you didn’t notice the group of women hounding a man behind you, slowing inching closer and closer to your group. By the time you finally noticed you were just moving to grab your lute, moving to get back into position, but it was too late. As you straightened up, putting on your smiling persona, you felt someone collide with you, pushing you forward and nearly causing you to trip over yourself. The sound of your lute crashing against the floor was drowned out by the chattering of the crowd, but you could practically feel the anger rolling off of you. Whipping around, you were fully prepared to give whoever bumped into you a piece of your mind, telling them that they owed you a new instrument. However, as soon as you eyes locked with the cold, heterochromatic gaze of the Prince, you found your words catching in your throat.

Rather than giving the long lecture you’d mentally prepared, you instead bowed slightly, doing your best to remember what to do in the event of meeting a royal. “Your Highness, I apologize—“

As you looked up, you found yourself staring at a rather harsh glare from the Prince, one that made shivers go down your spine. Standing back up, you met his gaze, not backing down. In that moment, you could’ve sworn that you saw a hint of surprise flicker in his eyes, but as soon as one of the lady’s beside him spoke, the hint of emotion was gone, and was replaced by the usual cold aura he exuded.

“Oh my goodness, Prince Shouto, are you okay?” One of the women asked, sending you an unamused stare before going back to her mock fretting, “Did she hurt you?”

At the subtle shake of his head, you wanted to snort in response. After all, how the hell could you hurt him? He was the one who bumped into you. Just as you were about to excuse yourself, to escape to your friends who had suddenly disappeared at the sight of the Prince, you heard him clear his throat, signaling that he wanted your attention. Turning back to face him, you gave him a questioning look.

Strutting up to you, he watched you with detached, emotionless eyes, and, for a moment, you felt your normally bubbly and carefree persona disappear. Now, all you felt like was a child who was getting scolded.

“Make sure you watch where you’re going, next time.” With that, he turned away from you, but you weren’t about to let that sit.

“Watch where I’m going?” You asked, making sure that you heard him right.

When he didn’t respond, you felt yourself growing livid. How dare he blame you when he was the one who bumped into you? Even if that wasn’t the case, in the end he was fine, and you were without your lute. Stomping over to him, you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“I’ll have you know that you were the one who bumped into me,” You hissed, making sure to keep your voice quiet enough to not cause a scene, “Just because you’re some ‘high and mighty’ Prince doesn’t mean that you’re not above an apology.”

Shoving your broken lute into his face, you gave a mocking smile, doing your best to keep your anger at bay. “You owe me a new lute, and I expect that on top of my pay for tonight,”

Huffing, you stormed off to where the rest of your band were, realization of what you just said not quite hitting you. As you went off, your back turned towards the Prince, you didn’t get to see the absolute shock on his face, nor did you see the way he held off the women beside him, telling them that it was fine, and there was no need to cause a fuss over your outburst. Once you were over to your group, you were greeted with the shocked faces of your friends, some of them were focused on the broken lute in your hand, while the others were more focused on you.

“Are you,” One of them started, reaching out a hand towards you, “Are you alright?”

You gave a hum of affirmation, easing some of their worries. “Don’t worry about me, my lute broke my fall,”

Once you were able to calm them down, another one piped up. “What did you say to the Prince? You looked pretty agitated,”

You waved your hand, trying to dispel their worries once more. “It wasn’t that bad, all I said was that just because he’s royalty doesn’t mean that he’s absolved from a simple apology. I mean, he’s the one who bumped into me.”

While your friends continued to stare at you incredulously, you couldn’t help but wonder just what they were thinking.

It took you exactly two minutes to realize what you had just said, and to whom.

Gasping, you put a hand up to your mouth, ducking your head as if that would hide you from the royals. You honestly don’t know what overcame you, all you know is that you were angry because he had the nerve to say that you were the one in the wrong, and that didn’t sit right with you. But now, oh god, you were surprised that he even let you walk away from him, after that outburst you had. While there weren’t stories about any sort of cruelness the Crown Prince had, there certainly were tales of how cold and dismissive he could be, and you certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.

Moving to whisper to one of your friends, you told them that you needed to leave, preferably at that moment. Having seen what just occurred, they ushered you to the door, telling you that it was probably for the best. So, as you made through the shadows of the magnificent ballroom, you made sure to stay hidden away from any prying eyes, just in case anyone saw their entertainment run away like prey from predator. Thankfully for you, your group seemed to distract all the nobility, playing another song as you left.

Turning around one last time, you found yourself locking eyes with the Prince once more, and, if you were a betting woman, you’d say that he was looking at you with both curiosity and, a bit of regret? It was a bit unnerving, to be stared down like that. However, remembering all of the times you’ve incorrectly guessed when gambling, you immediately crush that idea. There was no way he was looking at you with anything but contempt. Exiting the room, you made your way out of the castle and into the chilly air of the night, praying that you’d never have to see that Prince again.

Unfortunately for you, fate seemed to enjoy toying with you.

A few days after the royal ball, you found yourself in one of the dingiest taverns in the kingdom. While, of course, it wasn’t necessarily the best looking, you had to admit that both the patrons and the drinks were what kept you coming back for more. The unassuming tavern had become a home of sorts for you, somewhere that you could walk in to and be recognized immediately, greeted with a warm welcome. It was quite possibly your favorite place to preform, if not for the company, then because of the tips you’d receive.

Though you still mourned your dearly departed lute, the instrument that had been with you since you first started out, you were thankful to have backup options in case something awful happened. So, as you moved around the bar, singing some tune that lifted the mood of all the patrons, your fingers danced across your lyre, playing a melodic song that captivated all those around you. It was nice to have a change in pace, and although you would’ve much preferred the instrument you were most comfortable with, it was a pleasant change to hear the soft and angelic plucks of your lyre.

Dancing around the tavern, you gave flirtatious looks at the patrons who seemed to have the most money, giving them a wink as they tucked a few coins into the small bag at your side. Continuing to move around, you could vaguely hear the soft click of the front doors opening, indicating that yet another person had entered. Though you paid no mind, as you were wrapped up in your song, with your voice carrying an alluring tune, one that both put life into the bar, and seemingly had every person in there wrapped around your finger. As you turned around, your fingers still moving across the strings, you found yourself eyeing up a person you’d never seen here before.

Their figure was cladded in a black cloak, with the hood pulled up, covering most of their face. The clothes they wore beneath were hard to depict, but from what you could make out, it seemed as though this person was either a thief or a well off worker, as they seemed too nice for the typical patron. Eyes trailing up to their face, you couldn’t really see anything above their nose, but one thing that stuck out to you was the marking on the left side of their face, the scarred flesh stopping mid-cheek. For a brief moment, your mind wondered if the person was actually the prince, though the rational side of your brain told you that the idea was ridiculous, it’d be stupid of the prince to come here, of all places. He’d certainly have a death wish coming here, if not for the thieves who would want to either hold him for ransom, then the common folk who’d want to kill him due to their hatred of his father. However, as your song ended, your eyes finally connected with the mysterious stranger.

A mixed match of steel gray and a cool blue eyes had locked with yours.

Feeling your heart freeze in your chest, you quickly gave a bow to the audience, quickly glancing from side to side to see if anyone else had noticed the dumb prince. When you realized that no one had noticed, you quickly walked over to the hooded man, slamming your hand down onto counter beside him. He seemed startled at your sudden aggression, but as you smiled sweetly to the bartender nearby, he allowed himself to relax, though you could tell that he was still on edge.

“Can I get two pints of ale?” You asked, though it was more of a statement as you threw your coins onto the counter, nodding your head as the bartender went to pour your drinks.

Once you had the two mugs, you looked over at your new companion, nodding your head over to the most secluded area, telling him to follow. Walking towards the table in the corner, you found yourself blocking the prince’s body with your own, making sure that no one else figured out who he was. As you two slid into your seats, you pushed one of the mugs towards him, taking a long sip from yours.

Letting out a long sigh, you put your drink down, crossing your arms across your chest. “What are you doing here?”

He simply looked down at the drink set in front of him, his fingers tapping on the sides of the mug. When he didn’t give you an answer, you leaned in closer, your face certainly too close to be comfortable, especially knowing that the man sat in front of you was royalty. “Not going to answer me? Should I just assume that you were just wandering around town and you happened to stumble into any tavern you could find?”

He shook his head, his eyes finally meeting yours once more. As you continued to look at him with confusion swirling in your eyes, he bit his cheek, figuring out what exactly he should say.

“You said that just because I’m a ‘high and mighty’ prince, it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t apologize for my actions,”

At that, you could feel your cheeks heating up, the mortification of what you’d said coming back full force. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to calm yourself, putting on a look of pure neutrality.

“So, you’re here to berate me for it? Have me arrested?” You truly shouldn’t have this much confidence, but you couldn’t help yourself. Being in your second home made you feel more comfortable, and you knew that those around you would help you out in a heartbeat.

However, it didn’t seem to be necessary, as the prince shook his head, and it was then you realized that he seemed to have a rather awkward look on his face.

“No, that’s not it at all,” He started, his hands gripping onto his drink tighter, “I wanted to say that you were right,”

You blinked, not quite sure if you heard him correctly. “Pardon?”

“No one has ever been as straightforward as you. I know that I come off as cold and abrasive, and there are times when I truly mean to be. However, I shouldn’t have been so rude to you that night when I was the one at fault,” Staring at you with an all too sincere look, he continued, “So, I’d like to apologize for my actions,”

You continued to look at him with a blank look on your face. It was still baffling to you that, firstly, the prince came to perhaps one of the shadiest taverns in the kingdom, just to apologize to you, and secondly, the fact that he seemed to be an entirely different person that the last time you saw him, even though it hadn’t been long. The prince you saw at the ball was stuck up and rude, but the man you saw before you looked uncomfortable and unsure of himself.

Clearing your throat, you averted your eyes from his, taking in the lively seen before you. “How did you even know I’d be here?”

“I asked your bandmates,” He said simply, as if it were the easiest answer in the world.

Your lips quirked downwards, and you made a mental note to scold them afterwards. After all, what would’ve happened if he wasn’t as kind as he was, then they’d be responsible for ether your banishment or your arrest.

Leaning back into your chair, your eyes flickered across his form, still unable to truly process the person in front of you. While you thought it was sweet of him to come all this way to formally apologize to you, you couldn’t help but think of how stupid he was, wandering around town all by himself. What would’ve happened if someone else were to have recognized him?

Deciding to voice your worries, you spoke, “So, what in the world made you think that coming to the shadiest part of the kingdom all by yourself was a good idea?”

He tilted his head, and it took all of your self restraint to not sigh once more. “I’m not alone,” Pointing towards another cloaked figure hanging by the door, he smiled, “I had one of my trusted knights come with me,”

Before you could even breathe, he glanced over to his side, “Besides, I figured that I should give you this in person,”

Eyes following to where the prince had looked, you finally noticed the rather fancy looking lute sitting by his side, and you felt your jaw drop. Snapping back up to look at him, you gasped.

“Your Highness, I can’t—“

“Shouto.”

When you gave him the most incredulous look, he simply shrugged, taking a sip of his beverage, “We’re far from the castle, there’s no need to call me ‘Your Highness,’ and besides,” he started, a small smirk playing on his lips, “Weren’t you the one who said I shouldn’t bring attention to myself?”

You bit your tongue, doing your best to hold in a smart remark. While it may be true that the two of you are far away from his castle walls, it didn’t mean that you were safe from punishment should he see fit. So, you approached the situation cautiously, making sure that you were clear in your response.

“Shouto,” You started, and you were fairly certain that you could see his eyes light up, “You cannot just show up to give me an expensive lute just because your conscious caught up with you. In fact, you shouldn’t even be here at all,”

You could see his face fall for a second, but before you could even try to soften your original statement, his blank mask was put back on, his lips forming a thin line.

“I came here out of my own volition, only to fulfill a request that you made that night,” Leaning in a bit closer, he raised a brow, “Or do you not remember demanding me to give you a new one?”

Though you usually prided yourself on being able to keep calm in some of the most stressful situations, you couldn’t help the nervous feeling situating itself in the pit of your stomach. After all, it wasn’t every day that you were inches away from the prince’s face.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke once more, “I said many things out of anger, but I didn’t expect you to take that part seriously.”

He didn’t answer you with words, instead bringing the instrument over the table and setting it beside you, to which you immediately pushed it back towards him, your eyes unrelenting. For a few more seconds, the two of you found yourselves pushing the lute back and forth, neither of you wanting to give in.

After what had to have been the fifth or sixth time, the prince sighed, pushing it back towards you for the final time. “I don’t understand why you’re so adamant about not taking it, but you may as well just accept it. After all, you’ll be needing it for the next ball,”

Your head jolted up, eyes boring into his, “Can you repeat that?”

The prince’s eyes lit up once again in mischief, though he did his best to mute his facial expressions. “There’s a ball next month, and I’ve already told my father that you’ll be playing once more.”

“Are you serious—“

“So I suggest that you take the lute and start practicing, perhaps learn a few new songs before the ball,” Standing up, he threw one last smirk in your direction, “Oh, and if I see that you don’t have that lute, I’ll be sure to get you an even more costly one.”

With that, the prince made his way over to his knight, and the two of them exited the tavern, leaving you to wonder just what the hell happened.

So, after a month had passed, and, though you detested it, you learned a few more songs, you found yourself coming in contact with Shouto Todoroki once more. Only this time, rather than being able to blend into the crowd, simply singing and dancing your heart out, you felt a pair of mismatched eyes watching your every move, and, if you were lucky, you could make out the slightest hint of a smile on his features whenever you met his eyes.

Similarly to the last ball, Shouto refused to dance with anyone, choosing to sit upon his throne as he watched the lords and lady’s dance to their heart’s content, and, just like last time, he sat through the multitudes of lords offering their daughters to his father with the promises of alliances that he truly didn’t care for, nor did he need.

However, instead of simply going through the motions, wanting nothing more for the ball to end, Shouto instead focused his sights on you, watching with a small smile on his face as you danced around from person to person. Instead of feeling a sense of resentment towards you like last time, he instead found great joy and entertainment in watching you preform, and he especially enjoyed it whenever the two of you made eye contact, only for you to turn your head, your entire body screaming with embarrassment. Though he wasn’t quite sure why, he could feel his heart speed up whenever you’d give him a subtle wave, a small enough gesture that no one else but him caught. He didn’t know why his face would flush at the sight of you smiling and laughing, or why he wished that he could be the one who made you look like that.

While the prince continued to watch you intently, you found yourself playing your last few songs, your fingers plucking the strings of the lute gifted to you by the stubborn prince. You did have to admit, the instrument he had made for you seemed to be made out of the finest materials, and it had a lovely sound.

As the night grew longer, and you were on your final song, you found yourself growing more bold in your movements, singing even louder and even dancing alongside some of the nobles in the room, whom seem to have enjoyed the show you put on for them. Singing the last few bars of the song, you twisted your body to face the prince, and, with an unfounded surge of confidence filling your body, you gave him a sly wink before bowing to the crowd, taking your leave.

Since you promptly turned around and walked over to your bandmates, you didn’t notice the surprised look developing on the prince’s face. If you’d waited for just a moment longer, you would’ve seen the dramatic shift in color from his usually pale face to a red that could rival the shade of his hair. You would’ve also noticed, had you waited, that Shouto promptly excused himself, an action that wasn’t too unusual for the party hating prince, walking quickly down the steps and out the door in order to reach you.

Just before you could head back into the carriage the King had sent for you, you felt a hand tug at your wrist, preventing you from moving further. Whipping your head around, you made eye contact with Shouto, who also seemed to be just as shocked as you due to his actions. Raising a brow, you stepped closer to the man, giving him a quizzical look.

“Your Highness,” You started, glancing down at where his hand held you, “Is there something wrong?”

At the sound of your voice, Shouto released you from his grip, moving to rest his hands by his sides, “Ah, no, everything’s fine,”

Nodding your head slowly, you took a cautious step towards the carriage, not quite sure if you were dismissed. When you noticed the downcast look upon the prince’s face, you bit your lip, weighing your options carefully. Deciding that you may as well gamble with fate, you spoke up:

“It was nice to see you again, Shouto,” You started, giggling as the prince looked up at you with shock, “Even though it was entirely your fault for this,”

With that, you stepped one step further, grabbing one of his hands in yours and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand before waving goodbye, entering your carriage. As you entered, you watched the prince’s face turn from one of shock to one you couldn’t quite read. Just as the carriage was about to take off, with you wondering if you’d insulted him just now, you watched in surprise as he clambered into the seat beside you, shutting the door quickly behind him.

“What are you doing?” You hissed, looking out the window to see if anyone had seen him.

Luckily for you, the only person who had seen the prince enter in with you was your coachman, and you supposed you could pay him off to keep his mouth shut. However, that still left you with the confusion as to why the prince jumped in beside you. As you continued to stare at him for an answer, he began to stumble over his words, something so uncharacteristically charming.

“I—“ He started, immediately cutting himself off as he tried to better answer your question, “Well, I’m not really sure what to say. My body was moving on its own,”

You gave him the most dry look you could’ve mustered, though you couldn’t find it in you to be irritated. Sighing, you leaned back into your seat, raising an eyebrow at the man. “You do know that I could be in serious trouble if you come with me, they’d think that I kidnapped you,”

He giggled at that, a sound that you wanted to hear more of. “Ah yes, the bard and serial kidnapper, (Y/N),”

You weren’t sure why, but the way he said your name made your heart flutter. However, you pushed that feeling down immediately, staring at him with a serious look in your eye. He seemed to understand the situation, opting to speak once more.

“I’m truly not sure why I jumped in, all I know is that I wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet,” He smiled at you, taking your hand into his, “You make me feel so many different emotions that I have yet to feel,”

You scoffed, yet you still let him hold your hand, “Oh really? Like what?”

“Envy,” He stated simply, before his face grew into an even bigger grin, “Amusement, happiness, and perhaps a few more that I can’t quite describe,”

He leaned in closer, and you felt your throat dry, watching as he simply stared at you. You wanted both to kick him out of the carriage to save face, and to pull him even closer, though you weren’t quite sure which urge was stronger. In all honesty, you hoped that he couldn’t hear how quickly your heart was beating, not wanting him to get an even bigger ego boost than before.

The two of you continued to stare at one another, neither of you making a move until the coachman coughed awkwardly.

“Miss,” He started, his voice catching both of you off guard, “Should we be heading off?”

Looking to the source of the voice, then back at the prince in front of you, you watched as he leaned in closer to your ear, whispering, “I’ve already told my guard to cover for me, I’ll be fine,”

Pursing your lips, you didn’t take your eyes off of the man in front of you as you called out, “Yes, let’s go.”

Rather than having him take you back to your home, you instead had the coachman take you to the center of the city, where the festivities never ended and the two of you could blend in without a trace. Before the two of you exited the vehicle, you quickly shoved off any symbols of royalty that cladded Shouto’s figure. He watched in amusement as you hastily took off his cloak and royal broaches, not bothering to help you one bit. As you sat back a bit, trying to see how he looked, you shrugged your shoulders, figuring that it was as good as it was going to get.

“You just look like a wealthier man,” You sighed, tugging his hand as you exited the carriage, “I suppose that’ll have to do,”

“I am a wealthier man,” He pointed out, waiting for you as you paid a hefty amount to the coachman, hoping that it would buy his silence.

You simply waved your hand, as if dismissing him. Pulling him into the center, you began to show him the many attractions and foods that were in the city. You wanted to show him more of what he never got to see, wanted him to experience more than he ever got to do. Watching him stare in awe of the sheer amount of stalls that were open for the night market made your heart soar, and you couldn’t help but giggle whenever he’d ask you what something was. You allowed yourself to be pulled in every direction, letting him choose where he wanted to go, and what he wanted to try. There was one moment when you lost him in the crowd, being pulled away from his side. You were panicked at first, worrying that someone would’ve recognized him, and then the two of you would be in trouble. However, when you felt a hand intertwine with yours, you felt yourself let out a huge sigh, scolding him gently for leaving your side. He apologized with a cheeky smile, telling you that he got distracted by something.

For the rest of your time in the city, the two of you never disconnected your hands.

As the night began to wind down, you pulled him towards a clearing in the park, finding some space where no one could bother the two of you. Sitting down on the grass, you motioned for him to join you, staring out to watch the river’s current. You could feel his presence beside you, his body emanating a comforting warmth that almost had you leaning into him. Staring out into the horizon, neither of you spoke, instead opting to simply enjoy the moment with one another.

It was surprising to you, just how well you seemed to get along with the prince. Though your first impressions of one another weren’t exactly something to marvel over, you were surprised by just how well your personalities went together. It felt as though you had known each other in another life, as if you grew to care for one another then, and it was flowing over to the present. Though you weren’t one to believe in myths such as that, you couldn’t help but smile at the idea of having known the prince in a past life, and you wondered what you’d done to be lucky enough to meet him once more.

Turning your head to the side, you made eye contact with Shouto, whom, once caught, whipped his head to the other side, a steady blush rising from his neck. Throwing your head back, you let out a laugh at his actions, amused with how he responded. Scooting just a bit closer, you bumped his shoulder with your own.

“Enjoying the view?” You teased, giggling harder when his face became a bright red.

Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, he smiled. “If I was?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, doing your best to keep the heat from rising to your own face. “Can’t blame you, really,”

Shouto let a laugh out at that, tilting his head back at the sound. Once more, the two of you grew silent, with nothing but the far away chatter from the townsfolk filling the night air. As the night grew colder, and the sky turned from a violet shade to a pitch black void, you turned your head to look at Shouto, giving him a sad smile.

“Well, you should probably head back now, wouldn’t want the King to start a war looking for you,”

He scoffed, but nonetheless stood up, extending a hand for you to take. Once the two of you stood up, with you brushing off your lap for any excess debris, Shouto continued to hold your hand in his, not ready to let you go just yet. When you noticed that he was making no effort in leaving, you gave him a quizzical look.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, before deciding to tease him a little, “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to get home,”

Rather than feeding into your teasing like normal, he instead fished for something in his pocket with his free hand, fumbling for a bit before finally pulling out a simple locket, one that you’d been not so secretly eyeing since the two of you got there.

It was by no means an extravagant necklace, it was just a simple gold locket, the shape of a small oval and a chain that went down to your collarbone. You looked from the necklace in his hand back to his face, confusion taking over your features.

“Didn’t I tell you last time that I didn’t want you to go and buy me things?” You questioned.

He nodded, taking his hand out of yours and putting the necklace on you, his hands brushing the back of your neck for a moment longer than they needed to. “If there’s something you should know about me, it’s that I usually don’t comply,”

You huffed out a laugh, doing your best to disguise your flustered state, though you were sure he could read you like a book. “You know, if you keep buying me things, I’m going to get used to it,”

“Maybe you should,”

Before you could even protest, he moved in closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. It was so soft and his movements were so unsure that you weren’t quite sure that you hadn’t imagined it. Touching the spot where his lips had rested, you looked up at him in shock, though he refused to make eye contact with you once more.

“I hope to see you again, (Y/N),” He spoke, clearing his throat as he began to walk away.

You didn’t let him get far, however, as you quickly tug on his wrist, and as he turned to ask what you needed, you pressed your lips onto his, giving him a sweet kiss. At first, you felt him stiffen beneath you, and just as you were about to move away, to apologize immediately, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer.

For a few minutes, the two of you simply stood in the darkness, pressing soft kisses to each other’s faces, basking in the glow of your reciprocated feelings. However, you knew that he needed to be back soon, if not for fear of being found out, then because the night was much too dangerous for a royal like him. Reluctantly, you pulled away from his embrace, giggling at his pout.

“You really need to get going now,” You said, brushing his hair away from his face, “You’re sure to be in trouble if they find you missing,”

He sighed, not wanting to move away, but knew you were right. Resting his forehead on yours, he gave you one last kiss, smiling hopefully at you. “So, can I see you again?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the prince, you could send your knights to come and collect me at any time,”

When he gave you a flat look you grinned, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “Of course you can, just say the word and I’ll be there,”

Giving you one last bright smile, he finally detached himself from you, his face lit up in pure excitement.

“Then, how about tomorrow?”

Just like that, the two of you ended up spending as much time as you possibly could together, whether it be due to his father hiring you for the balls he hosted, or when Shouto snuck out of the castle to you. Though you couldn’t see each other every day, on the days that you could see each other, it felt as though you’d never even left the others side.

You’d spend your days together mostly exploring more of the city, as Shouto had mentioned to you that, being the heir to the throne, he wasn’t allowed to be outside much. You made sure to give him all of the experiences he wanted, even the simple, mundane ones like going to the local bakery to buy some desserts. Other times, the two of you would simply lounge around outside, with Shouto’s head resting against your back as you strummed your lute, softly singing a ballad you had learned on the road.

Of course, the two of you never really defined your relationship, and, in all honesty, you were afraid to even try to. You knew what you were getting yourself into, you knew that you shouldn’t hold such affection for the Crown Prince, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered whenever he looked at you, how you felt as though you were soaring whenever he touched you, or how you felt as though you were unstoppable whenever he kissed you. Deep in your heart, you knew that this wouldn’t last forever, that he’d eventually have his duties to attend, and you’d simply be a distant memory for him. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about that now. Instead, you simply worried about the smaller things, such as making sure Shouto didn’t hurt himself, or making sure that no one would recognize him.

You didn’t realize just how short your time with him would be.

On a bright, warm, summer day, you waited outside of the castle walls, hidden away from any of the guards patrolling the outside. Today you were supposed to be going on a picnic with Shouto, perhaps just bask in the sun’s rays. It had been a few days since you’d last seen him, since an old friend of the King was coming to visit, and Shouto was to help entertain them. Of course, you’d been understanding of the situation, simply telling him that you’d wait. So, when the day finally came that one of his most trusted knights had shown up at your door to personally deliver a letter from the prince, asking if you’d join him for a picnic, you were quick to agree.

Resting on the wall, you let out a small sigh. He was running a bit late, but you figured that he was probably just trying to find an excuse to leave his father. As you turned around to face the entrance to the castle, you noticed a carriage coming in at the front. You watched as a familiar head of red and white hair popped out of the carriage, making a small smile cross your lips. However, before you could even breathe, you noticed another figure come out beside him:

A rather regal looking woman had stepped out of the carriage beside him, linking her arm in his as she whispered something to him, giggling. As the two were making their way towards the castle, you watched the mysterious woman stare up at him with a look that you knew very well, holding your breath as you saw her pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You watched as he didn’t push her away, instead allowing her to latch onto him. Humming to yourself, you watched as his eyes wandered around, finally locking with yours, his eyes going comically wide. But you didn’t bother waiting around to see what he’d do. Instead, you simply frowned, making your way back towards the city, deciding that it’d be a lovely day to go and busk in the park.

For the rest of the day, you found yourself seated on the grassy ground, strumming the lyre that you’d exchanged for your lute at home, singing to your hearts content. You ended up making good tips, and you ended up having an audience by the end of your final song. Once you had finished, you bowed slightly towards the crowd, before moving to head back into town, hoping that you could get a drink before heading home.

However, fate seemed to enjoy playing with your emotions.

Just as you were nearing your favorite tavern, you heard a voice call out to you, followed by a hand catching your wrist. Turning around, you found yourself facing a green haired knight, who looked to be out of breath.

“Sir Midoriya,” You started, turning so you could better face him, “How can I help you?”

He took in a deep gulp of air before shuffling through his belongings, eventually settling on a folded piece of paper, handing it to you. Curiously, you slowly opened the piece of parchment, scoffing as you looked at the location Shouto had wanted you to meet up. Folding the note back up, you handed it back to Midoriya, giving him a smile full of venom.

“Sir Midoriya, please do me a favor and tell His Royal Highness that he can go and fuck himself for all I care,” Giving the man a bow, you entered the tavern, only to quickly turn back and add, “Word for word, please.”

As you slammed the door shut, you thought that would be the end of it, though you supposed that was just wishful thinking. Once the beautiful blue sky of the afternoon had turned into a rosy pink color, you found yourself sitting in one of the more seclusive parts of the tavern, watching the patrons of the bar as you slowly sipped on your drink. You weren’t drunk by any stretch of the word, having not really been in the mood to be throwing up your guts the next day, though as soon as you heard the door open, and your eyes landed on a familiar looking figure, you wished that you had been.

You watched as mismatched eyes scanned the crowd, eyebrows raising just a hair when his eyes met yours. Figuring that leaving was no longer an option, you waited for the prince to make his way over to you, wanting nothing more than to get this conversation over with. As he finally sat down in front of you, his eyes boring into yours, you took a long swig of your drink, letting out a sigh as you swallowed.

Setting the mug down, you crossed your arms. “Long way away from home, Your Highness,”

At the sound of his title, he flinched, but he didn’t let that deter him, “(Y/N), let me explain—“

“What’s there to explain?” You questioned, your head tilting in almost a mocking manner, “I get it, you’re a prince. You were going to marry some rich girl eventually, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“(Y/N)—“

“It’s not like we had a chance anyways, it was all just supposed to be fun, right?” You asked, putting on a guarded smile.

He sighed, and you could tell you were getting under his skin. “Would you let me explain?”

When you didn’t say anything, he took it as his chance to go. “I didn’t even know of her until a few days ago. She’s the daughter of one of the most influential Lord’s in the kingdom, and apparently my father made a deal with him, that’s why I’ve been with her,” He reached out to hold your hand, inwardly letting out a breath of relief when you didn’t pull away, “I never wanted this to just be ‘fun,’ and you know that,”

You let out a laugh, though it’s devoid of any humor. “I didn’t think that you were hiding some secret wife, Your Highness, but her being here just reminds me of how different we are. I’m not royalty, and there’s certainly no way that your father would let you be with some random commoner, so is it really worth it to prolong something that’s bound to break?”

“You don’t have to be royalty, I could always,” He trailed off, but you knew what he was getting at.

“Do you really think he’d let you get away that easily?” You asked, and when he didn’t respond you continued, “Besides, you shouldn’t throw away the rest of your life for some random bard, Your Highness. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,”

Pulling your hand away from his, you stood from your seat, giving him a small bow as you walked towards the front door, but not before whispering to his knight to take him back. As you opened the entrance of the tavern, you looked back at the prince you left behind, your heart cracking slightly as you touched the locket on your neck. Smiling, you let the door shut behind you, closing that chapter of your life.

About four months after the last time you saw the Prince, you heard news that he was to marry one of the Lady’s from a dukedom not too far away from the kingdom, one that had a monopoly over some profitable trade routes. Though the King insisted it was a marriage of love, word quickly spread amongst the townsfolk that the Prince was not particularly fond of his bride-to-be, but none of them dared to speak it.

A year later, the Prince had married his “sweetheart,” and you had found another. While you loved them dearly, you still couldn’t deny the hole in your heart, one that longed to be filled, yet would never be completely whole.

One night, when your lover had long since gone to bed, you sat out in the night, letting the cool breeze wash over you. As you looked up to the stars, you could faintly make out a constellation of two lovers, and, as your hand went to touch the locket sitting above your heart, you prayed to any deity that would listen to you, pleading with them to bring you back to your prince in the next life, and that next time, the two of you could finally be happy.

Little did you know, that in a castle not too far away from you, a certain prince was looking at the very same stars in the sky, praying for the same thing.

#bnha #mha #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader

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bethpeaches123 · 3 years

Note

Everlark #46

Okay, this took much longer than I’d hoped, but that’s because every time I thought I was finished, something new popped into my head and I had to include it, so it’s also much longer than I’d anticipated. But, here it is, @mandelion82! I hope you enjoy! I’m thinking of continuing it too, so stay tuned! Also going to post it on AO3. :)

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Everlark 46: nanny/single parent au

The Nanny/Babysitter/Minder

When Katniss Everdeen placed an ad looking for a nanny to care for her five-year-old daughter Cassie, the gorgeous blond, blue-eyed specimen of a man standing on her front porch was not exactly what she had in mind.

“Can I…help you? Sir?” she asked, trying to wipe the puzzled expression off her face when she opened the door.

He smiled, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his dark wash jeans, looking slightly puzzled himself. “I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark? I emailed you about the nanny position for your daughter? We agreed I’d come over to meet her at one o’clock today?” he replied. His eyes flickered to the side at the sound of a car horn behind him on the busy street, then flicked back to Katniss while he waited for her response.

Flustered that Peeta was apparently a man’s name and not an old woman’s like she’d assumed, (Why had she assumed that? What could have it been short for? Petunia? Come on, Katniss) she hesitated and then said, “oh, yes, of course. Um, please, come in,” stepping aside to let the subtly muscular man walk past her and into the hallway.

Hesitating again, she decided to throw caution to the wind and continue with the appointment with this man, Peeta. She hadn’t received any other responses to the ad she’d placed two weeks prior, and she was getting desperate. Her surgery schedule had changed at the hospital, thanks to crotchety Chief Abernathy who didn’t care about her childcare woes, and she needed to find someone to pick Cassie up from school until her current shift rotation changed again in a few months’ time. If it changed. Knowing Abernathy, he’d keep her on this schedule indefinitely.

“Cassie? Can you come out please sweetheart, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she called down the hall.

She motioned for Peeta to proceed into the living room as a tiny pixie of a girl came bounding down the hall and into the room, her dark brown hair in two messy braids down her back. “Mama, I was playing,” she whined, but stopped and stared, wide-eyed at the blond man standing in front of her. “Who are you?” she asked, curiously.

“Cassie honey, I told you we’d be meeting your new nann-err…your….baby-um…your…minder…today. Remember?” hastily fumbling over what to call Peeta. “This is Mr. Mel-um, Peeta.”

“Hi Mr. Peeta,” Cassie whispered, peering up at him shyly as her little mouth curling into a smile.

Peeta knelt down in front of Cassie and held out his hand. “Hello Miss Cassie, it’s very nice to meet you. You can call me just Peeta, though, if you’d like,” he replied, gently smiling at the girl. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, I hope.”

“Cassie, why don’t you tell Peeta about school? Cassie just started grade one. Peeta, can I get you something to drink?” asked Katniss, starting towards the kitchen. She needed to put some distance between herself and this gorgeous man. Needed to catch her breath and steady herself – it had been a while since she’d been around anyone who made her feel so flustered. She was usually so calm and cool-headed; she needed to be, being an orthopedic surgeon and all. When Peeta didn’t reply right away, she turned to face him and found him staring straight at her.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, his eyes warm as he looked at her for a beat longer than normal, before turning his focus back to her mini-me sitting before him on the floor. She could feel the heat from his brief gaze go straight to her core. She shivered and spun on her heel, swiftly walking to the kitchen. What was that? As she poured herself a glass of water, she gave herself a mental shake before gulping it down and returning to the living room to sit and observe.

As Katniss watched the two interact on the floor, her initial hesitations began to melt away. Peeta was patient, attentive and gentle with her sweet girl, listening to her talk about her dolls, how much she wanted a cat (Katniss refused - she and felines did not get along) and how nice her kindergarten teacher Mr. Cinna was. Peeta asked her questions about her favourite colour (purple, but also green, like Mama) what she wanted to be when she grew up (a veterinarian) and her favourite flavour ice cream (Rocky Road).

After 45 minutes had passed and the two seemed thick as thieves, Katniss’s worries were gone. Her desperation to find someone to look after Cassie while she was at work had melted away as she watched Cassie, normally a shy, reserved little girl, open up and giggle at the gentle man who made silly faces and showed her pictures of his cat, Cupcake (she could’ve scolded him for that - she didn’t need Cassie getting any more ideas about wanting a cat.) Occasionally, she’d laugh softly at something one of them would say, and she’d catch Peeta’s eye when he’d glance at her and smile warmly, his dimples dusting his cheeks.

With her ex Gale no longer in the picture, and her mother and sister living two states away, she didn’t have any family support. Peeta seemed to be the answer to her prayers, judging from how quickly he and her daughter got along. Plus…he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Stop lusting after the hired help, Katniss. Get it together.

After some more time had passed, Katniss looked at her watch and said, “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of Peeta’s time, Cassie, and you have to get ready to head out to your singing lesson too,” said Katniss, standing up and motioning to her daughter to go to her room and get ready. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, use the bathroom and get your sheet music from your bedroom while I talk to Peeta?”

“But I don’t haveta use the bathroom, Mama,” Cassie grumbled. She didn’t make any moves to get up from her spot on the floor next to Peeta, who smartly stayed silent as he watched the mother and daughter talk.

“You will as soon as we get in the car and by then it’ll be too late. Go, please, missy,” replied her mother, sternly.

Peeta stood up from where he’d been sitting crossed legged on the floor with Cassie and dipping into a deep bow, offered her his hand to pull her up. “May I be of service to the young lady and help her up?” His eyes twinkled as she giggled again and placed her little hand in his, letting him easily pull her to her feet. “Will I see you again, Mr. Peeta?” she asked shyly, glancing at her mother before turning back to him.

“I would like that, Miss Cassie. How about I chat with your mama while you get ready? It’s a good idea to listen to her - she knows best,” he replied gently.

Cassie huffed, but turned and bounded out of the room, the chorus of “Let It Go” echoing down the hall as she went.

Peeta chuckled and shook his head amusedly, shoving his hands in his front pockets, adopting his stance from earlier. He turned his gaze to Katniss once again, his piercing blue eyes warm and kind. Before she could speak, Peeta beat her to it.

“She seems like a wonderful little girl, Mrs. Everdeen. I’d be happy to look after her for you when needed,” he said. “I can provide a list of references and my child CPR certification if you’d like. I mean, if you’d like me to...if you’d like t-to hire me?” He stuttered, watching her face spread into a wide, amused smile.

“It’s Dr. Everdeen, actually. Ms. Dr. Everdeen, really. I’m not married. Ever. Haven’t ever been married. I mean, not that that matters, I’m jus-I mean Cassie’s father and I weren’t married, we were just together, but he’s not around anymore, he-” what was wrong with her? She was a top-notch surgeon; a strong, independent woman, raising a child on her own. Why was she so tongue-tied around this man? She took a deep breath and said, “Katniss is fine. And your references and other files would be great. Could you email them to me please?”

Amused by her stuttered response that mirrored his own, Peeta replied, “Okay. Katniss it is, and yes, I’ll send them over today.” He seemed relieved that she was as nervous as he was.

After they discussed hours and rate of pay, the one questions that had been nagging in the back of her mind finally couldn’t be left unasked. “Why do you want this job?” She blurted.

Mortified, she continued before he could even open his mouth. “Sorry, it’s just...when I placed the ad, I expected to find an old, grandmother-type woman. Not a young, handsome guy. I mean-I just...I haven’t come across a lot of male...nannies,” she trailed off, embarrassed by her word choice. Did I just call him handsome? To his face? Oh god, I wish I could bury MY face in my hands right about now.

Peeta shifted somewhat uncomfortably from one foot to the other before replying. “That’s a fair question, I guess. I work in my family’s bakery in the mornings, but my day is finished by noon. I wanted something to fill the rest of my days and I love kids – I have a niece and nephew who are just the greatest, I love spending time with little people that age, they’re so inquisitive and honest. I’ve actually thought about going back to school to become a teacher – I mean, I haven’t ruled it out yet, I’m only twenty-six, that’s not too old. Plus, I thought about how much of a struggle it must be sometimes to be a single parent and if I have the ability and capacity to help someone out, well, then I want to do that.” He realized he was rambling a bit and flushed with embarrassment. “Is that weird? I just thought I’d combine helping people and kids and...well, here I am. Here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” mused Katniss, staring at him wonderingly. “That seems like as good a reason as any, I suppose.” She started to turn away but stopped and looked at him once again. “And I do appreciate the help, by the way…can you start Monday?” Her lips curved into a small smile, Peeta beamed back at her, this time his dimples on full display.

“Great! Yes, Monday’s great. Okay. Good. I think this will be...great. I’ve said great a lot. I’ll stop,” said Peeta sheepishly, running his hand through his messy blond curls. His face flushed bright red again, a shade Katniss found endearing.

Before she could respond again, Cassie came bounding down the hallway, her teeth clean and music bag in tow. “I’m ready, Mama! Mr. Peeta, so will I see you again?” She asked hopefully, peering up at her new friend once again.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, who smiled and nodded, before replying to Cassie. “You will! I’ll be there to pick you up from school on Monday. I have a very serious question for you though, Miss Cassie. Are you ready to hear it?” Her brow furrowed as she nodded slowly. “Do you like to have fun?” She little face broke out into a grin as she nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. “Well good,” he continued. “Because we’re going to have lots of it.”

Hearing her child break out into giggles again melted her heart and stirred something inside her. Looking at Peeta, she met his intense gaze with one of her own, grateful for this kind man to care for the more important person in her life.

“Well, it’s time to go, sweetheart. Peeta, thank you so much again. We’ll be chatting before Monday to go over the rest of the particulars,” said Katniss, ushering Cassie out the front door and turning to Peeta once again. As he moved past her to go through the front door, his hand lightly pressed against the small of her back to step around her, and Katniss felt the heat of his touch through her coat. It spread from her back throughout her body, right down to her toes. She froze as he passed through the door and hopped down the steps, turning back to look at her and flashed his dimples once again. Oh my. This is going to be interesting…

“I’ll speak to you very soon, Katniss. Cassie, I’ll see you Monday afternoon!” he called, cheerfully as he waved and headed to his car.

“I like Mr. Peeta, Mama. He’s nice. And he has a cat!! Do you think he can bring Cupcake over to play with me sometime?” Cassie babbled as Katniss strapped her into her seat, her mind replaying the memory of Peeta’s touch on her back over and over. She flushed again, thinking of how close his muscular body had to hers been when he walked by, how his blue eyes sparkled when he stared at her, how his dimples seemed to make an appearance when he beamed at her….how his ass looked when he bent over to help Cassie up...

Oh no. She was in trouble.

A young, hot, (she has to admit he was hot, there was no denying it) kind, patient man was going to be looking after her child and thus very, very involved in her life for the unforeseeable future. This would be interesting indeed…

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#everlark fanfiction #everlark #everlark fanfic #mama!katniss #katniss everdeen #Peeta Mellark #babysitter!peeta #The Hunger Games

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musicallisto · 3 years

Text

🌘 — 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐧; (nik ryder x f!mc)

~ 2021 start-of-the-year event ~

@ladylamrian requested: No. 75 - Nik Ryder (Choices fandom) I wish you good luck, @musicallisto 😊 song: 5 seconds of summer - babylon | 𝄞

summary: Each time they crossed paths, she’d curse herself right afterward, and device some plan to disdainfully walk away next time she saw him. Each time they crossed paths, she forgot everything.

author notes: I liked this a whole lot when I started writing it and now I’m not so sure of it - I feel like it’s rushed in a way I can’t explain, and I’m just crap at writing arguments, and that’s on me being a libra. also, if you think i projected and the first part is just me rambling about my crush haha!! shut up word count: 1.9k words warnings: language, angst, lowkey obsessive infatuation/relationship but that’s just because I feel everything 100% and know no balance. I do not recommend loving someone with this much intensity, kids.

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐎 Nik Ryder’s charm had been like fighting a fire kindling in her chest. If she closed her eyes long enough, she could maybe take a deep breath, fill her lungs with air and hopes, and naively believe it would soon die down, the embers a mere reminder of what a long-forgotten stranger had once ignited in her.

Funnily enough, she didn’t close her eyes too often. It made her miss out on all the flames around her, she said.

Each time they crossed paths, she’d curse herself right afterward, reprimand herself for being so lovestruck and him for being so infuriatingly magnetic, and device some plan to lift her chin, eye him through half-opened eyes, and disdainfully walk away next time she saw him.

Each time they crossed paths, she forgot everything except for what her gut could yell and her eyes could see - him, nothing but him, everywhere and every time, even when she wasn’t looking. So she trailed after him, bit her lip when she caught him staring, soared when they bickered and he smiled, that devilishly crooked grin of his.

And inexorably, over the weeks and months, without him even realizing at first, he found himself pulled closer and closer to her, opening little cracks in his walls for her to see all the ruggedness beneath.

The first time they sat next to each other on the steps of the Graveyard Shift, shoulder to shoulder to fight the chill of the night, was the first time she caught a glimpse of Nik’s beating heart. When he absent-mindedly took her hand in his, not even commenting on how cold they were, her breath caught in her chest. She’d been infatuated before - but they always appeared to her as angels bathed in light, unstained and crowned in gold. But Nik’s heart was charred and his eyes glimmered with the gentle, albeit a little worn spark of disillusionment.

So much pain, solitude, and yet so much vulnerable softness all in one man, all in the man holding her trembling hand and not saying anything, enraptured her as nothing had before.

Maybe it was the New Orleans night, maybe it was all the supernatural chaos rushing to her head, maybe it was just that she’d had a charred heart too. But from then on, she wanted all but one thing. Him.

“I’m real glad I found you,” he had whispered into the cold, damp air, and involuntarily pressed her hand. “You make it seem like all this is worth fighting for.”

“It is.”

You are, she meant with all her heart. We are, she’d murmur later to the secret nooks of her ribcage.

How long will we be, she forgot to ask.

Falling in love with Nik Ryder was like letting the fire rage uncontrolled in her chest and savoring the warmth and the burns as they came.

After that night at the Graveyard Shift, and all those that followed where he would just hold her and talk of anything and everything, she’d only breathed in the same air as he, warm with an aftertaste of smoke like an embrace before an adieu. She’d seen the corners of his chest, the scars on his back, the hints of his life before her, but she wanted it all. She wanted to know his soul completely bare, to drown entirely into him, into his familiar, strong, and acidic smell of firewood and naphthalene. She’d seen his highs and his triumphs; she had loved them all like the rivers love the ocean; now she wanted the dust, the dirt, the grime, the tears, and the blood.

Her heart had once roared like a fury when she caught his gaze, when their hands accidentally brushed against each other or when he stepped between her and every danger; now it wasn’t quieter, but she had gotten accustomed to the rumbling like that of a waterfall. Her pulse didn’t skip anymore when he grabbed her hand as a reflex, because it had long before settled in tune with his. Her dreams were not haphazard flashes of him anymore, but vast expanses of sea. A brazen brown sea, exactly like the shade of his eyes...

And the more he talked, the more she listened; the more she unveiled about herself, the more he leaned over; until she knew him better than she knew herself; until he’d rested his head on her shoulder, and let go of years worth of troubles and worries and fears. There, on a quiet balcony overlooking Lamrian at night, she had uttered the word for the first time.

“I love you, Nik.”

She was certain of it. What else could be this fluttering in her chest at the sight of his face, so pure and tranquil and handsome, slightly tilted toward her own? How else could she call the fever that had taken over her, delectable and dizzying all at once, that threatened to consume her whole - what else, other than love?

He had looked up at her, opening earnest and profound eyes. He hadn’t seemed taken aback by the confession in the slightest, perhaps a consequence of his smug radiance. A silent mist, hovering beneath the moon and around them both, encapsulated their heartbeats until he spoke.

“Hell, MC, I think I love you too,” barely a murmur, an inch away from her face. “This is stupid, but I want to say it... I think-- I think I want to love you till I die.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

Please do.

A gasp escaped him, neither entirely relief nor laughter, when she took his hand in hers, warm for the first time. It was a mere second of her wondering at his eyes where stirred a few glimmers of the night before he’d kissed her deeply. She clung onto the lapels of his cloak, closed her eyes, and let herself be devoured. Soon enough his sighs had dissolved in the dark.

Oh! How naive had they been, to talk of life and death and love, with a Fate thundering overhead like a sword over their necks!

Having her heart broken by Nik Ryder was like the fire erupting into a blaze, like its tendrils of smoke clutching her throat, like a famished inferno devastating everything around her. It wasn’t losing him per se; it was losing them both, him and herself, all at once, as though the dormant mountain between them had exploded with no grunt to augur the outburst.

They had seen everything, they had fought everything, they had survived everything. But they both died the night they shattered.

“Goddamit, MC, how can you be so stubborn? You’re not listening to a goddamn thing I’m saying -- you never fucking listen!”

“Oh, I’m listening alright -- listening to you insult me and belittle me and ignore what I say and want because I’m a Rookie and an imbecile and--”

“When have I ever belittled you, MC? When?”

“Every damn time you’ve looked at me, Nik!” she exploded, making the walls and windows rumble. “Every damn time you’ve looked at me and treated me as if you saw nothing but a defenseless, spineless idiot!”

A deafening silence fell on the living room, as she breathlessly took notice, for the first time, of the unrest that had taken over Nik’s apartment. None of it was tangible; the cushions were in their usual place, the coffee table lined up with the sofa as it always was; but a troubling stillness lingered in the air as if the world were quietly frothing before a blast. None of them had noticed the lights outside dimming with the day, nor the slight breeze blowing in the room; and it all appeared suddenly to her, as she was staring up at Nik before her, her eyes neither cotton nor steel. Nik, who always had to have the last word, especially when it came to you, always so sure and full of himself...

“You were defenseless when I met you. All I ever did was to protect you.”

His tone, metal and ice, and his eyes, stone and darkness, and his abject self-sufficiency... always having to be the indispensable one... a bout of pure fury rose in her throat once more. He had been indispensable to her once, so very much, like the sun and air. He probably still was, too. Yet she realized with horror that she’d been engulfed in him for so long that she didn’t know what remained of her, purely her, and it suddenly made her sick beyond reason.

“Maybe I never wanted your protection! Maybe I’ve had enough! Maybe I never wanted to meet you!” she raised her voice again.

“Hell, if this is how it’s gonna be, maybe I was better off without you!” he spat back, throwing his arms in the air.

“Maybe, Nik! Maybe I don’t want the constant fear and pressure that being with you entails!”

“If you’re so scared of being with me, then leave! Leave, MC! I’m not stopping you!” he roared, as a first teary tremor troubled his voice. “But don’t come back crawlin’ when you miss me, MC, or when you find out I was right. I’ve had enough heartbreak and anger for a lifetime.”

“You always made everything about you,” she spat, resorting to bitterness just like he had.

Maybe it was all my doing, indirectly. Maybe I loved you too much for my own good. Maybe I wanted to forget myself into you. Maybe all we could both see was you...

No match ignited like theirs had been could have burnt for any longer.

No soul who’d been so utterly and desperately entangled with another could sit face to face with itself, bare and rotten, and escape unscathed.

“If you leave now, MC,” he hammered with a composure you loathed without really knowing why, “it’s forever. I ain’t choosin’ for you, for once.”

The weight of his words dawned on her suddenly, like a vice constricting her throat. She raised her eyes at him, meeting and holding his gaze, swallowing hard. Such a beautiful face, one she had loved so tenderly, all she could see, imagine, and sing for months. A face she had covered with kisses and touches and sleepy words. A face she had started at for so long, in hopes she would eventually forget hers...

“I need some space.”

Nik’s shoulders deflated, and he rubbed a hand behind his neck as she took a laborious breath. Something was twitching and yelling in her insides, begging to break free; perhaps one last sense of self she had unknowingly preserved... All she needed was space. An immensity. A wide, open field, where she could yell and cry and jump and sing... stare at her reflection in puddles and find herself again.

She grabbed her coat from the back of a chair. On her way to the door, she thought she heard an agitated but above all immensely pained whisper.

“You were all I cared about, MC, hand to God. I would’ve died for you.”

I would have too. Maybe that’s why we couldn’t both live.

More violently than she had intended, she closed the door behind her.

Breaking both her and Nik Ryder’s heart was like wrecking a tower, sky-high, unsinkable, unshakeable. Neither of them remained long enough to salvage anything among the rumble; specks of dust jammed their mouths and chests already.

#mywriting #playchoices #choices stories you play #nightbound #nik ryder #nik ryder x reader #nik ryder x mc #nik ryder imagine #nightbound fanfic #nightbound imagine #nightbound one-shot

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