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holdupjack · 1 year ago

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Don't Make Eye Contact

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Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Reader is a Ravenclaw/No War/No Voldemort

WARNING: None

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Third Person P.O.V:

7th Year

Y/n sat at a table in the Gryffindor Common Room with her long-time friend, Hermione Granger.

She had agreed to help Y/n with her potions test coming up, only after she had begged her repeatedly. They two had been very good friends since the first year, some said it was a match made in heaven due to their personalities.

It's their last year now, during their many days together Y/n found herself...would crushing be the right word? Let's just say she had been infatuated with the Muggle-born.

Many people were though, and it was quite obvious there was a secret Hermione Fan Club somewhere in the school.

Surprisingly, Y/n hadn't been asked to join yet. Almost all of their immediate friends knew about Y/n's attraction, and they teased her relentlessly for it. Even if they did think it was charming.

"Y/n?" Hermione calls out, noticing the deep focus she has on the wooden table. Y/n's sight shifted almost immediately to meet her gaze, her stare looked as though she had seen a ghost.

"Yes?" Y/n replies as she clears her throat, her fingernail picking at the sides of her book in her lap.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asks as she shifts in her seat and leans forward slightly, noticing a group of students walking down into the Common Room.

"I'm fine! Just going through some stuff...you know how it is" Y/n hums, trying to play off the fact that she had been embarrassingly daydreaming about her. Quickly she looked back at her book, now realizing that her eyes began to sting at the fact she would look at what she truly wanted to admire.

Y/n didn't notice as Hermione began to smile at her anxious form as the group crawled out of the Gryffindor Common Room. Her book was gently placed next to her, and her chin found a seat in her palm as she held up her head.

(A/N: Btw, it must suck to be physically disabled in Gryffindor. Imagine someone in a wheelchair trying to get through that tunnel. Do you think the teachers cast something on it so it'll be easier for them to get to and from?... Anyways-)

"If you don't mind me prying, but what are you going through?" She asked as her other arm rested behind her elbow and gently played with the fabric around her bicep.

"It's nothing 'Mione, I swear," Y/n replies while not looking up from her book. Hermione raised an eyebrow and hummed in discontent at her answer.

"You've been stand-offish since December, has this got to do with Valentine's Day?" she asks and Y/n blinks at her unregistered book page, trying to figure out how the bloody hell she got that logic from.

Granted she was right, but that wasn't the point. How did she get to that conclusion with nothing but Y/n being anxious? She's always anxious!

"How did you come up with that idea?" Y/n asks as she flips to the next page in her book, even though she didn't comprehend what it said before.

"It's quite simple really" Hermione states as she leans back in her chair, folds her arms, and crosses one leg over the other.

"Yeah?" Y/n hums as her legs start to bob up and down in a nervous rhythm.

"It started after Ron had been poking at you about asking someone out before Christmas break. Him then saying that you not having your first kiss already was funny, which I disagree with, but I know you took it personally." Hermione continued as she watched the other girl intently, noting every little flicker of emotion that crossed her face.

"Now Valentine's Day is two weeks away and you're trying to find the courage to ask out who you like" Hermione tempts as she 'accidentally' nudged Y/n's leg with her foot.

Oh, you thought Hermione was oblivious to Y/n's attraction? Ha, that's funny. Hermione Granger? Oblivious?

Well...sometimes, but not when it comes to Y/n. She had that girl mapped out better than the Dark Forest.

The hair on Y/n's neck stood up at attention as the side of the girl's shoe grazed her calf and disappeared. The shaking of her leg immediately stopped.

"So, what's your plan?" she asks, chuckling slightly at the soft shade of maroon enveloping her cheeks.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. I'm happy dying alone." Y/n responds in a monotone voice, to which Hermione rolls her eyes.

"He made fun of you too, just in case you forgot. What was it again? The fact that you haven't dated anyone since fifth year?" Y/n teases back, turning a page again when she feels like enough time has gone by.

"Whatever, I'm waiting for them to ask me out anyways," she replies, to which Y/n snorts and flicks her sight at the Gryffindor's hands, before retreating to the book.

"You're waiting? Do you think that sending ESP confirmation is going to get them to ask you on a date?" Y/n chuckles as she thinks about Hermione trying to telepathically tell her interest she's ready to be wooed.

"It worked with Krum" Hermione replies with a soft smile as she waits for their eyes to meet, but Y/n still keeps them away from her sight.

"Oh yeah, great example" Y/n mutters in playfulness, as she rests her book on the table and stretches over the backrest of her chair.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she let out a closed-mouth sigh, her back cracking in multiple places as she bent against the wood.

"Alright, why don't you ask out who you like then? There can't be people elbowing past you with better chances." Hermione asked as she shifted in her seat again, trying to catch Y/n's gaze but again, she ignored her.

"It's called fear of rejection 'Mione, it weakens even the best of soldiers" Y/n states a student crawls into the Common Room and greets the two of them with a quick 'hello'.

Y/n looks up at them and smiles, just as quickly replying as they scurried up to their dorm room. Hermione ignored them, not to be a bitch, but to try to get ahold of her love life came first at this moment.

"I know that, but I've seen you ask things that you have no business asking. Like when you saw that McGonagall had a bottle of Fire Whiskey in her desk and asked her for a swig" Hermione states as she uncrossed her legs and sat up, now slightly annoyed that Y/n has yet to look back at her.

"That's different! That couldn't ruin friendships, this could." Y/n states as she looks back at her book, she now getting slightly bothered by all the questions.

"Fine, then what would you say to them if you didn't have this fear of rejection?" Hermione questions as she leans her arms onto the table. Y/n sighs with slight exhaustion and caves into the girl's request.

"You want to know what I would say? Fine. Here is what I would say. I would say that she's the most soul-giving person I've ever met. She makes me so nervous that I'm scared to look at her most days. That I've loved her freely at night and whispered everything I find great about her to the man on the moon. I would tell her that I don't care about status, that to me, she is better than ever Pureblood girl in this world. I would tell her that I...I love her." Y/n finishes her rant quietly as she just stares at her book page with annoyance.

It was quiet for a moment before Y/n asked Hermione the same question.

"So, what would you say? You know, after they finally heard your ESP call to action" Y/n asks with a small chuckle as she tries to ease the tension, and her racing heart.

Hermione was still quiet, her eyes soft and unwavering as she stared at Y/n. She wondered what she could say that was just as beautiful, maybe something straight to the point.

"What would I say? I would say...I love you too Y/n."

Y/n felt her throat close and her eyes widened in horror at the realization that Hermione knew. She has known for a while.

Every smile and chuckle from Hermione started to seem insincere in Y/n's mind. What if this was some game to her? Y/n was afraid to know the truth, whether it was good or bad. As long as she didn't look into those oak tree eyes, she'd been able to get out of there.

"Look at me Y/n" Hermione whispered as if she could hear her thoughts, but Y/n just stood up and packed her bag quickly, much to the Gryffindor's dismay.

"I have to go"

"Y/n-"

"I'll talk to you later"

Y/n was out of that Common Room faster than an Army grunt under barbed wire. She was even quicker to escape the Gryffindor Tower and make her way to Central Hall.

Hermione cursed and smacked the table with the side of her hand as she leaned back into her chair.

Why didn't she believe her? Why didn't she just look at her and see that she wasn't pulling one over on her? Why is she infatuated with someone so stubborn?

She sat at that table for ten minutes. Her eyes fixated on the tunnel as she thought through her feelings before she went after her and said the wrong thing.

"I'm not going to let you just ignore this" Hermione mumbled to herself as she quickly got up, leaving her things at the table with no care as to what happens to them.

Y/n sat at the fountain in the Central Hall, her breath uneven from the jog there, and the realization that Hermione had known all about this.

She should have stayed. It was too late to go back now, she'd already made a complete fool of herself by storming out like that.

The Central Hall was vacant, most people at at the Quidditch game, or getting high in their dorms while the Prefects were out.

"I'm such an idiot" Y/n groans to herself as she lets her belongings flop onto the ground. Her hand slipped through her hair out of frustration as a sigh left her lips.

Y/n sat and stared at her feet for a while, so long in fact that she didn't hear the approaching footsteps behind her due to the fountains running water.

Hermione smiled as soon as she got a glimpse of Y/n's face, slowly sitting beside her till she noticed her presence.

Of course, Y/n knew it was her even without looking over. The smell of Cinnamon and Parchment invaded her nose as soon as she sat down.

"I'll ask you again, Please look at me" Hermione whispers as she waits patiently for Y/n to respond.

Finally, their eyes met again. Hermione couldn't hold back the smile on her face as the soft hue of a cardinal matched each other's cheeks.

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat as the woman she'd chained her heart to began to speak.

"Now, would you stop being so stubborn and ask me on a date already? I think I have waited long enough" Hermione asks with a playful smirk on her face. Y/n chuckled softly and looked back out in front of her.

"I don't know, I still have my eyes on Lavender too" Y/n teased, now feeling a little bolder than before. Hermione always had that effect on her, somehow making an uncomfortable situation into a powerful one.

"Oh sweet Merlin, don't even joke about that" Hermione groaned, still a little upset that she lost Ron to her. Hey, she didn't like him anymore, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have a bruised ego about it.

Y/n began to quietly snicker as Hermione moved closer to her, their shoulders leaning against one another's as her arm crossed Y/n's back and rested in the space between her hip and arm.

When she looked back at Hermione, their noses brushed like a soft spring wind. A smile played on the Gryffindor's lips as she stared into Y/n's eyes.

"You know, usually you initiate a kiss after a date" Y/n whispers as her eyes flickered to Hermione's lips multiple times.

"Call me eager" Hermione whispers back as she blinks becoming slow, and full of want.

"Do you do this to all of your admirers?" Y/n asks as her eyebrow rises with question. Hermione scoffed at her accusation and grinned.

"Those were men, but with you? My self-respect goes out the window." Hermione hums as Y/n lets out a chuckle of her own. Now eyeing the young woman a teasing stare as their lips ghost each other's.

"How charming Hermione, is that what you say with every fan girl?" Y/n asks as the Gryffindor kisses the side her her mouth, before begrudgingly holding herself back from invading your space more than she already has.

"So you are a fan girl? Oh, you stoke the embers of my fantasies with this knowledge" Hermione whispers as they hear the clamoring of feet and overlapping voices heading their way, the game must be over.

The brown-haired beauty sighed softly and backed away as hundreds of students walked in and past through different areas. They could hear the small orchestra nearby start playing again.

Their moment alone was now taken away, and only the tingling of that small peck was left between them.

"Y/n, why have you averted your gaze from mine again?" Hermione asks, and Y/n now realizes she is back to looking at the ground.

Even though the space between them was quiet, the roaring of laughter and yelling got on Hermione's nerves.

"Come, let us go somewhere more private" Hermione stated as she stood up and grabbed her things from the floor. Y/n knew protesting was futile.

Hermione wanted her, Y/n knew that now, and it didn't take a genius to know she wasn't backing away from a few 'what ifs' in her mind like Y/n does.

Harry watched with Luna from a staircase nearby, both looking at one another with a knowing glance before chuckling at one another.

"You know, Hermione hates when Y/n does that" Luna starts as they watch the future couple disappear into the crowd. Harry cocked an eyebrow at the blonde as they sat down on the stairs.

"Does what?" He asks as Luna's eyes shift around the ceiling dreamily, they hold so much wisdom behind them.

"Hermione desires Y/n's full attention, and the poor Ravenclaw gets so nervous around her that she tries her best to keep her gaze off of her," Luna explains and Harry hummed at the answer, now quite surprised to know that Hermione liked eyes on her.

"That does not mean she likes other people's gaze upon her face or body. Isn't that poetically beautiful? She has yearned for Y/n's sole focus, and has displayed daggers to any who try to compete." Luna hums and Harry has to scoff at the 'deeper' meaning of this courtship.

"Luna, I think you're putting too much credit on to Hermione. She had only started pinning for Y/n in the fifth year, Y/n has loved her most of their time together." Harry states. As much as he loved Hermione, she got blindsided by Krum and Ron for a short time. It was Y/n who always gazed upon her with admiration and zealousness.

"Maybe I am, but isn't it better to be late than to never have arrived?" Luna replies as the boy nodded in agreement.

As they talked away in Central Hall, somewhere near the Ravenclaw Tower, Hermione relished in Y/n's stare after a small meaningful talk in an empty corridor.

Quiet chuckles and kisses were shared between them as they spent the remaining hours together. Hermione had long forgotten her duty of tutoring her new lover, which she did regret when Y/n flunked it, but it wasn't her fault!

Y/n had a glimmer behind her eyes that made Hermione's head foggy and her heart thump like a rabbit's foot, making her feel as though she was the only girl in the world.

(A/N: Cue Rihanna 💃)

Later that night, Luna had poked at Y/n about what she saw in the Ravenclaw Common Room. Saying that she hoped for the best, and wished nothing but good fortune on their journey of life together.

Y/n cleared her throat and flushed as bright as a firetruck. She responded with a soft 'thank you' but soon said that Luna acted as if they were getting married.

"Might as well celebrate something that will definitely to come true"

"You can weave your predictions into the air, but that doesn't make them concrete" Y/n responded with a small chuckle.

The blonde just smiled and walked away, deciding that she would accept her 'you were right' in a few years.

#harry potter #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #lesbian #fanfic #fluff

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idontknowreallywhy · 1 year ago

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Estera - Ch 11 - Run

(Previous… Prologue - Stars are Only Visible in Darkness, Estera - 1 - Colour, 2 - Dinosaur, 3 - Shoes, 4 - Thunderbird, 5 - Lesson, 6 - Safe, 7 - Gull, 8 - Deliver, 9 - Coffee, 10 - Flight)

(Sofasurf’s Recrudescence which is the foundation for all of this)

What’s happened to Scotty? Has Virg broken the door or just his shoulder? Has John eaten his own arm in despair? Has EOS accidentally overthrown the government of a medium sized country in her anxiety?

None of these questions will be answered here, as I leave the Tracys within the tender loving care of @sofasurf and her alligators and we quickly check in with somebody else…

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One of the best things about Bez was his relentless enthusiasm about something as simple as her unlocking the front door. She smiled as he treated her to an impromptu drool bath and gradually nudged him down the hallway so she could put down her bags.

“You’ll never guess who I met today, Niebieski… the Commander of International Rescue! … Yes, he did seem nice… No, he didn’t have any treats…Yes it’s possible to be nice and not have treats, you daft creature… You don’t believe me do you?”

Extracting herself she reached up and fetched one of his favourite chews from the top cupboard.

“Give me a minute to get changed, Bez, then we’ll go for a run, ok?”

Receiving only chomping noises by way of reply, she left him to it and went to sort herself out. Grabbing her phone to check the time, it unlocked on the new contact screen and she smiled. He’d given her his personal number, just in case, but had been endearingly awkward as he’d asked her to save it under a pseudonym. Something to do with his brother John, someone called Kyra and security protocols, he was sorry it was such a weird thing to ask. She didn’t mind, she knew exactly what to name to save the number under.

She tapped the word ‘Blue’ and sent a quick message as he’d asked, given he’d not had his own with him.

“Was good to meet you today. Here is my number. I hope you’re doing ok? Estera”

Right. Job done. Next on the list: exercise.

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The wind was bitter as the sun slipped below the horizon and stained the clouds behind which it had been skulking most of the afternoon.

The plus side was it meant nobody else was out this far. They’d have the less well known Jacob’s Ladder beach to themselves while the rest of the dog walkers did a quick circuit of the main seafront. Bez, well insulated from the frigid air, lolloped excitedly down the steep path ahead and she ambled behind, limbs trembling slightly in the aftermath of their clifftop run. The exertion had helped focus her mind, as it always did, while she was actually running. But as soon as she allowed her heart rate to slow, the swirling thoughts returned.

The tide was right out, and it seemed every sea bird in the Westcountry had gathered to scour the shoreline for treats, their figures dark against the reddening sky and their fading shadows reaching many times their height across the sand towards her.

As expected, there were no other dogs on the beach - she unclipped the leash and let Bez hare towards the ocean, driving the gulls into the air in a squawking cloud, the combined sound of their wings like a drum roll in the distance. Usually his unbridled joy would be catching, but today she felt kind of detached, as if she was watching him frolic in a poor quality recording on a broken screen.

The shadows lengthened further.

Suddenly unable to contain all of the Everything building up inside, she let out a yelp and ran across the top of the beach towards the sunset. For a given value of running anyway. The pebbles sucked her legs downwards with every step, her feet slipping and twisting on the uneven surface. The wind whipped across the bay and blasted into her face, hair streaming and coat billowing behind her like a sail. Despite forcing her last scraps of pent up energy into her muscles she made barely any progress and eventually stumbled forwards, landing with a crunch amongst the stones.

She pushed herself on to her knees and paused, dizzy but aware of Bez sprinting back towards her, droplets of seawater flying from his fur.

Then he was there, shoving his soaking wet face into hers, blending the salt of the sea with the salt of her shame.

She’d left him.

The initial delight that he’d survived, that he hadn’t been stabbed to death in the square as she’d imagined was overshadowed by what she now knew his attempt to rescue her had cost him. The stories of the nearby camp were rife in the town. The open secret of the mass grave to the east of it. The horrors inside. Some said it was simple torture. Others had heard from someone who knew someone who had heard tell of twisted medical experiments. People said that when the wind was right, you could hear the desperate screams on the road, over a mile away. Nobody knew the truth of it because nobody came out.

People didn’t survive the camp.

And then there were the dogs. The constant barking as they patrolled the town, barely under the control of the thugs who held the leash. There were dogs at the camp too, she knew that. She recalled watching, helpless, from her window as her neighbour was dragged from his house by the snarling beasts. If he’d even made it to the camp alive, it wouldn’t have been long for him.

People didn’t survive the camp.

Somehow Scott had. She couldn’t quite believe it. It clearly hadn’t left him unscathed though. She covered her face and tried to picture the twinkle in his eyes as he had teased her about the toy in her pocket. The eyes of somebody who was alive and knew laughter. But she couldn’t find them. Instead she saw his wide, frightened eyes watching unknown horrors unfold behind her, in a reality only he could see.

She clenched her fists and yelled her apology to the sky, before pulling her knees to her head and wrapping her arms around her legs as she sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Bez, damp yet radiating warmth, lay against her back and waited.

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[AO3]

Chapter 12…

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #Estera #tb estera #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #Tw: war #Tw: ptsd

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dalek-ix-writes-stuff · 1 month ago

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Red Ruin - INTERVAL 02: FIRST ENCOUNTER (Part IV)

The girls didn't immediately spring into action; Blake and Weiss needed a few more details than just "jump down and help the two fighting the Death Stalker", and it wasn't like Ruby could just… put her plan into their heads.

"Uh, Nora's the with the revolver grenade launcher-hammer. Really loud."

Well, not without things going horribly wrong. She could give a… nudge, sort of, if she was gentle and careful and calm, but that had its own problems.

"Ren's her partner. Green outfit and machine-pistol hook-blades. He's trying to distract the Death Stalker long enough for Nora to get a hit in, but that bridge they're on doesn't give him much room."

And as unused as Ruby was at putting her plans to words, it was… surprisingly easy once she got going.

"Which is where you come in!"

"Let me guess: get behind the Death Stalker, keep it occupied, and then let… Nora crack that thing?"

"Uh, yep! Death Stalker armour can get really tough at that size. You need explosives, AP or high impact melee to get through. Freezing the joints is also a good idea."

She could get used to this, actually.

"You have a sniper ri-"

"Crescent Rose is a Super High Velocity Penetrator."

"… that thing. Whatever. Can't you crack that thing's skull from here?"

"Crescent Rose's stakes can go through, but they don't do enough damage on the other end."

"…Doesn't Armacham make a version of those things with a fire dust charge and a delayed fuse?"

"…Yes. They do. I, uh… I didn't bring any."

"I'm afraid to ask, but, why?"

"Because her Fire Dust privileges are suspended."

"That was two months ago, Yang!"

"Still suspended, Ruby."

Maybe. So long as she learned not to put her entire foot in her mouth. Or leave openings for certain older sisters to exploit.

"As fascinating as this is to watch as a single child, could we focus?"

"Y-yes. Anyways…"

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When in high-stress situations, the natural response is to tunnel vision. Focus on the threat directly ahead, or the task that needs to be done, blocking out every other distraction around you. This is to be expected; people who are distracted from the rampaging boarbatusk in front of them tend not to live very long, after all.

But there are situations where the noise behind you is what kills you, not the growling predator (or the angry foreigner with a sword) in front, and laser-like focus becomes your doom. Hence why, with training and experience, one can widen the 'tunnel', so to speak. Regain some more awareness of your surroundings; enough that one can react and be aware of what's going on, but not so much that you lose focus.

Pyrrha Nikos was the first to realize they're getting help, spotting two figures leap off the edge of the cliff, and onto one of the taller ruins. Lie Ren was the next one to do so, seeing Blake and Weiss hoping their way down the ruins. Nora saw what Ren was seeing and grinned as Team Monochrome (as Ruby rather insistently called them) got into position behind the Death Stalker.

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"Yang, fastball!"

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The first sign that Jaune got that he was getting reinforcements was when a red and black blur slammed into the back of the Giant Nevermore he was facing.

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"It looks like things are shaping up to be an… interesting year."

Ozpin could feel Glynda rolling her eyes. "The 'Invincible Girl', the Schnee heiress, a boy who acts like he's never even held his own sword before…" A scoff. "Interesting is certainly one way put it. And that's before you get to… her."

Ozpin didn't miss the shudder from Glynda. "You can't say she didn't make an impression," he said, almost to himself, "even if it wasn't as positive as we might've wished."

"Ruby Rose and her sister brawled up and down the length of Patch for half an hour," Glynda deadpanned. "And don't even get me started on how much of her luggage is medication." Glynda's tone softened and became all the harsher for it. "This is not the right place for her."

Ozpin's own voice didn't falter, although even he couldn't keep his emotions from tinting it. "I'm not sure if there is a right place for Miss Rose," he countered, "But if there is…"

On the screens Glynda and he were watching, the fight began to turn…

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"No plan survives contact with the enemy."

Ruby struggled to remember things beyond a certain point; the red haze of her condition had made true consciousness a long and difficultjourney, and the few memories of her childhood she did have were all the more precious for her. One of those was a lesson from Qrow; he'd quoted that, and then told Yang and her that people would usually quip it whenever any plan went wrong, as if mocking the idea of having one at all.

Those people, Qrow had told her, didn't know what the hell they were talking about.

Don't remember what the full quote was –some old Atlaesian General said it way before the Great War, and he said it in Atlaesian anyways– but the best way to understand what he meant was like this; imagine you're trying to win a fight in a single swing, or with only one bullet. Unless you're absolutely, completely, positively swear-on-your-soul certain_ that that's all you're gonna need, you'd be crazy to think that. So, you need more; multiple swings, multiple bullets, different kinds of both._

And the real trick; knowing where to use which.

The initial part of the plan went off exactly as Ruby expected. Blake and Weiss dropped right behind the Death Stalker. A slash from Gambol Shroud got the beast's attention, and a wave from Myrtenaster covered the leg joints in ice just as it turned to face them. It roared with Hate, and a volley of grenades from Nora (Ruby wished she'd gotten to know what her weapon's name was) sent it stumbling as it tried to react to the new threat.

Before the Nevermore could intervene, Yang threw her.

Ruby became a blur of crimson petals. The world seemed to be too slow and too fast at once; stretched by her own speed into a smear of colours. It was difficult to focus on anything besides what was directly in front of her, and even then, Ruby's vision was distorted.

So Ruby Rose closed her eyes.

After all, she'd never needed eyes to See.

Crimson unreality fills her mind's eye. She Sees the Quiet Vengeance and the Roaring Thunder, the Icy Blade and Bloody Shadow, frozen as they clash with the mass of ENEMY between them.

(Idly, Ruby noted that The Things which were and weren't Weiss and Blake didn't have nearly as many barbs and blades pointed at each other as before. Improvement!)

She Sees the Untouchable Idol standing like a breakwater against the larger ENEMY, and the Paper? Knight quivering and fluttering beside her.

(Ruby caught the difference. The Thing which was and wasn't Jaune Arc had to cling to The Thing that was and wasn't Pyrrha Nikos to stand, but it was standing. Hm. Hm.)

She Sees it all, feels the Roaring Fire's familiar warmth behind her (and also always, always with her) and focuses on the ENEMY she'd chosen to DIE.

Ruby willed herself forwards.

Faster.

Faster!

(She wondered if she'd ever moved this fast.)

Faster!!

The faster she goes the deeper Crescent Rose's blade will tear into her Enemy. The deeper the wound she makes is the faster it will Die. The faster it Dies the sooner she can Kill more- tooclose!

The mass of petals and speed she'd become coalesces into a single point and suddenly Ruby's a lance of red and black, of flesh and steel and bone and Wrath. She'd miscalculated and turned back too early, or she'd flinched and slowed herself down out of reflex when the collision loomed too large, and even though Crescent Rose bites deep and the Nevermore's scream of pain is like music to her ears, the wound is that tiny bit too shallow or too small to be the killing blow she wants.

"Holy-!"

Ruby's faintly aware of Jaune almost stumbling back as she squeezes the trigger. Oxygen and aerosolized fuel ignite in the chamber and Crescent Rose roars her wrath, a 10mm spike driving deep into the Nevermore. Ruby's hands fly across the bolt, a touch of semblance and more making it move faster than any other action could've done, and Crescent Rose fires again.

But the blade's not deep enough, or the variable muzzle break's not set up right, or both, and the recoil pulls Crescent Rose out of the wound she made enough that the Nevermore's thrashing tosses Ruby and her weapon away.

Enormous black wings spread, and the Grimm screeched with hatred and pain as it took off; still too injured to truly fly, so instead the hop just brought it up to perch the roof of the tower.

Ruby falls. The world flashes crimson, and then she's not; now she was standing on the bridge, Crescent Rose in hand, glaring up at the Nevermore with just as much hated as the Grimm's own glowering gaze.

Ruby took a deep breath and planted Crescent Rose's bottom spike on the ground, letting the familiar presence of her sweetheart ground her as she Feltthe world around her. Blake and Weiss were still getting in each other's way, the Death Stalker hadn't been cracked open…

What went wrong, what went right, what can we do from here, what more do we need, what more can we try?

Ruby steadied herself, closed her eyes, and then her mind reached upwards to give the roaring flame that was and wasn't her sister a well-practiced nudge. Tiny, faint, not even the thought of a thought. You'd have to know what to feel beforehand to even know it was there, and only the most basic of ideas could be transmitted, one at a time; closer, away, me, you, yes, no. The mental equivalent of monosyllables.

Ruby felt her sister go from concern and impatience to shock, then confusion, and then a hearth-warm surge of pride that made Ruby smile; two months of practice had paid off.

That's my little sister.

Yang dropped from above, and Ruby Rose pushed forwards.

Next swing, next bullet, next plan.

#red ruin #rwby #rwby fanfiction #f.e.a.r.#crossover au #crossover #fanfiction #ruby rose

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scuttling · 3 years ago

Text

Lean on Me

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Gender Neutral Reader Word Count: 4,717 Tags: SFW, Fluff, 5+1 Trope, Obliviousness, Mutual pining, Aaron Hotchner deserves good things, Canon typical injury Summary: Five times you want to kiss the frown off of your boss's face, and one time you actually do it. *Requested by Anon. Link to AO3 or read below! “It doesn’t make sense.”

You stick a tack in a photo of a murdered woman—unfortunately one of many you’ve stuck to this board—and turn to face Hotch, who is looking over your handiwork with a quizzical expression.

“What doesn’t?” He takes a few steps closer, crosses his arms in front of him.

“Why would the unsub leave his comfort zone? The first six abductions occurred within five miles of the college, so why did the seventh and eighth happen almost twelve miles away?” He reaches for the board, traces his finger along the circle Reid had colored in on the map. “We profiled that he’s disorganized and far from confident, so why would he do that?”

He looks over at you, frowns, and not for the first time your gaze is drawn to the little crease between his eyebrows that always forms when he is puzzled, worried, confused, stressed, or otherwise unhappy. In short, it’s there kind of all of the time.

For the first time, though, you think of how easy it would be to lean over, press your lips there, smooth it out, and maybe even get him to smile for a change. He has a great smile, when he lets people see it.

You shake the daydream, rewind back to the question he asked, and wrinkle your nose in thought.

“Maybe his circumstances changed? It's summer now, and there are still classes, but students aren’t living in the dorms. Maybe he moved back home or got an apartment off campus that’s within that area—or a job.” He sighs, runs a hand over the back of his head, nods.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. That’s good. I’ll mention it to the others.” He pulls out his phone, and you grab another photo, another thumbtack, but something stops you and you lay a gentle hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to think of everything, you know. That’s why you have us.” He exhales, his shoulders losing a little of their tension, and that forehead wrinkle gets a little less deep.

“Sometimes I forget that not everything needs to be done the hard way. Or by me.”

“What? You, Aaron Hotchner, doing things the hard way?” you tease, and you are gifted a glimpse of his rare, unfiltered smile.

“Okay, enough pointing out my flaws,” he says with a raised eyebrow, though he’s still smiling, and as he looks down to type out a text, you remember to pull back your hand.

“I would never.” He looks up from his phone at that—maybe at the conviction in your voice, which you hadn’t exactly intended—and his expression softens further.

“I know you wouldn’t.” You hold eye contact for a moment, and then turn to finish preparing the board, pinning up another photo of another woman and reminding yourself that they need you to focus on the task at hand. Two weeks later, you knock on Hotch’s office door, a stack of completed consults in your hand. He looks up, that familiar notch in between his brows, a scowl on his face; when he sees that it’s you, he tones it down a little.

“Draw the short straw?” he asks, and you figure that’s because everyone knows he is in a bad mood and they’ve been avoiding this office all day. You shrug.

“It was rock, paper, scissors, but yes.” He huffs a short laugh, and you smile, step toward his desk. “Anything I can do to lighten the load?”

“Technically you’re adding to it,” he says with a glance at the files in your hand, and you set them on one of the chairs with a purposefully loud thump and then take the other seat.

“Technically. But technically, you only need to review my consults; I can review theirs. Right?” He mulls it over a moment, like the thought never crossed his mind—of course Aaron I have to do everything myself Hotchner would never suggest such a thing, even as the team sits in the bullpen with nothing to do, seeing who can throw M&Ms into Spencer’s mouth from the furthest distance.

“Technically,” he agrees, and you pluck a pen out of his pen cup and take the first file off the pile, open it in front of yourself, careful not to cut into the workspace he’s occupying. You both smile softly down at your work, and you actively do not think about that wrinkle between his eyebrows.

About an hour later, he reaches for his mug out of habit but finds it empty; you stand, take it in your hand, and he makes a noise of protest.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you say, and you walk toward the door. “I need some too. I’ll be right back.”

You pass through the bullpen—apparently the M&M contest led to a sugar crash, because Spencer is laying with his head on his desk—and grab your cup off your desk, take both to the break room to fill them.

Derek appears next to you as you’re stirring your sugar in.

“Coffee date with the boss?” he asks with a curious expression, and you shake your head.

“Of course not. I’m helping him with the overwhelming amount of paperwork on his desk so his mood improves, instead of just ignoring him.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and Derek scratches the back of his head.

“Never thought of that,” he admits, and you pat him on the arm and take your coffees back upstairs.

Hotch looks up at you as you set his mug down, says a soft thank you, and you grab the pile of files you brought up, separate them, and head back downstairs.

“You review mine,” you say to Derek, handing him a stack, “Emily take Spencer’s, Spencer take Derek’s, I’ll take Emily’s.” They look at you like they have no idea what to say, and you just smile, tap the top of Spencer’s head with a folder. “I’ll come back down and grab them in a little bit.”

“Yes, boss,” Emily says, and you grin on your way back upstairs. Hotch is standing when you arrive this time, looking out the window over the bullpen.

“What did you do?” he asks, turning to you, frowning again. You’re so close that kissing that wrinkle would be effortless. All you’d have to do is lean in.

You smile.

“I delegated, Hotch. You should try it some time.” You put your hands on his arms and guide him back to his desk. “Now what can I help you with?”

By the end of the day, his desk is clean and his bad mood is long gone. He closes the last of his files, sighs deeply, covers your hand with one of his, and says thank you.

The next morning when you come in, there is a steaming latte and a cookie on your desk, and you can’t stop smiling the rest of the day. Your next case is draining, children abducted and left for dead, and everyone is on edge, but no one more than Hotch. You’re fairly certain his face hasn’t relaxed since the initial briefing, and he’d be a prime candidate for the old ‘your face will get stuck like that’ joke, if anyone was up to joking.

The team catches the unsub, saves one child, but not until after three are dead; you take a late flight home because no one wants to stay another night in a town it feels like you’ve failed, and everyone curls up to get some rest except you and Hotch.

You try to read the book you brought along—a science fiction dystopian novel, something to get you out of your head and away from real life problems—but you’re a little distracted by Hotch’s sighing. It’s become an every-five-minutes thing, and while you’re definitely on board with sighing as a way to decompress, he’s not decompressing. He looks like he’s in pain mentally, exhausted physically; you’re not sure how everyone else was able to ignore it and go to sleep, but then you figure everyone else may not be as in tune with him as you are. As observant.

As in love.

Not that that matters: you know your issues, and some of his issues, and there’s the whole superior/subordinate thing which doesn’t really do anything for you except give you a stomach ache. It would never work out, even if he somehow, miraculously, were to love you back—and that’s a pretty big if in and of itself.

But still, you notice him, can’t help it, and the sighing is getting to be a little much. You sigh yourself, put your finger in between the pages of your book, and walk over to take the seat next to him; he looks over at you, frowning just like always, and you carefully close his file and set it aside.

Neither of you say anything to the other, just look each other over for a moment, and then you lean lightly against his shoulder and flip back to the beginning of your book.

“I still dream of the island. I sometimes approach it across water, but more often through air, like a bird, with a great wind under my wings. The shores rise rain-coloured on the horizon of sleep, and in their quiet circle the buildings: the houses grown along the canals, the workshops of inkmasters, the low-ceilinged taverns.”

You keep your voice low and soothing, and you are just turning to page fifteen when you feel the weight of his head drop onto your shoulder.

The crease between his eyes melts away in sleep.

You read until you make it home, and you wake him up with a gentle nudge before the rest of the team drifts back to consciousness. He looks at you, blinks slowly like he’s trying to remember where he is, and then gets a little sheepish when he puts two and two together, realizes he fell asleep on your shoulder.

You just shake your head, give his arm a squeeze, and head back to your seat to gather your things. You, Hotch, and Emily are catching the elevator to the parking garage—after staying two hours later to work on some rush consults straight from Strauss—when he looks at something on his phone that makes him groan aloud. You and Emily share a look, and you ask what’s wrong.

“I just remembered I’m supposed to have a treat for Jack to take to school tomorrow and it’s, what, seven thirty?”

“So just stop at the supermarket on your way home; no one can tell the difference anyway,” Emily says, but you and Hotch both shoot her a skeptical glance.

“It’s all about the treats at a school like Jack’s,” you supply, and Hotch looks over at you like he’s surprised by your comment. “If they’re not homemade, the parents talk. Plus there’s probably an allergen list a mile long: no nuts, no eggs, no soy, no dairy. You have to pick him up from Haley’s tonight, right?” You’re pretty sure, but when he nods he confirms it. “So pick him up, go home and get some dinner, put him to bed, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way over with the goods. I have a great recipe for vegan apple cinnamon muffins that will go over really well.”

“You really don’t have to do that; I’ll figure something out,” he says, but you just shake your head and pull up the recipe on your phone.

“Forget it, it’s already done. I have everything I need at home already; let me help,” you murmur softly, and when he looks at you with the furrowed brow that comes with accepting kindness from someone else, you almost forget it’s not just the two of you in the elevator. It’s only when Emily clears her throat that the eye contact breaks. He nods.

“Okay. Thank you; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” The elevator dings and it stops at the parking garage; the three of you get off and head in separate directions for your cars. “I’ll text you.”

“Goodnight,” Emily says with a grin, and you wave at her, hop into your car, and head for home.

About two hours later, you show up at Hotch’s door with two dozen apple cinnamon muffins, and unbleached, whole wheat flour in your hair, and he has coffee brewing, a smile on his face.

“You don’t know how grateful I am,” he says as he ushers you into the kitchen, takes the boxes of muffins from your hands, and pours you a cup of dark, delicious coffee. You sip it slowly, savoring the taste—you should have known he’d have incredible coffee—even though it’s far too late for you to be indulging. Unless you’re working a case, you usually switch to decaf by three.

“I know you are. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you’d appreciate the gesture.” You lean forward, open a box, and pull out two muffins, handing one to him. “I made a couple extra so we could taste test; if I accidentally put salt in instead of sugar, you’re on your own,” you joke, and you wait for him to taste it before taking your own bite.

“That’s delicious. There’s really nothing unapproved in here?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Nope, it’s all healthy and allergen free, except for the flour, but that wasn’t on the list you sent.” He reaches a hand toward you, and you don’t realize, at first, that he’s brushing the flour out of your hair.

“Messy baker,” he teases, and your heart feels really full, being in his kitchen like this, warm muffins and fresh coffee, even if your hair is a mess. You smile, and he smiles back before dropping into that serious expression, eyebrow wrinkle and all. You think about brushing your lips there tonight, but this feels like two steps forward, and you don’t want to risk taking that step back. “Next time I’ll help you.”

“Oh, next time? You plan on needing my baking expertise again? Fair warning, this is the only recipe I know, so I hope you like apple cinnamon muffins.” You take a sip of your coffee, look up at him, and he takes another bite, nods his head.

“I do. Especially these.”

In a perfect world, what comes next would be a cinnamony, coffee flavored kiss, but the world’s not perfect, and you yawn instead. You look down at your mug like it’s betrayed you, and Hotch chuckles low.

“It’s decaf. I know you usually stop in the afternoon; I wouldn’t forgive myself if you were up all night because of me.” You have always been a person who falls in love with all the little details about someone, so the fact that he’s noticed this, remembers this, makes your heart beat a little faster. “I should let you go. You’ve done so much today, between staying late and baking for Jack—for me. You need to get some sleep.”

He’s right, it’s nearly ten, and you should be getting back home, but this is a moment you never want to end.

You just nod, though, and he reaches out to brush his hand over your back when he walks you to the door.

“Thank you again. I really appreciate that you did this for me,” he says, soft, like he still can’t imagine you would.

“You’re welcome, Hotch. Any time, really; I’m happy to help.”

You get home, clean your kitchen, and have a very late dinner, and the smell of good coffee and apples and cinnamon is still in your nose when you drift to sleep. “You didn’t hear what he said,” Hotch snaps almost a month later, with one hand splayed on his hip and the other on the table in front of him. The moment you saw him engaged in an argument with a member of the Sheriff’s department, fire in his eyes, you’d grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a small conference room, shutting the door behind you. It took almost three minutes of staring at each other for him to say something instead of just glaring at you for interrupting the pissing contest.

“I don’t need to know what he said. I know you, and I know you handle people like that with a quick, sharp remark and then you wash your hands of it. You don’t argue back and forth, you don’t draw it out. You would have regretted it if you did that today, so I stopped you.”

“You think you know me so well, do you?” he asks in an unkind tone of voice you can’t identify, haven’t heard from him before; the expression on his face is familiar, though, a scowl that only puts emphasis on his handsome features—it’s unfair, really.

You exhale, cross your arms.

“Yes, and I know you well enough to know you’re irritated with him, not me, so cut the shit.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever been quite that direct with him, and certainly the first time you’ve ever sworn at him; your immediate instinct is to apologize, but he surprises you by huffing a laugh. The angry lines of his face smooth into something softer.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. He just—I can’t stand people like that.” He scrubs a hand through his hair in irritation. “We’re here to work—to do a job they couldn’t finish on their own. Not to be… objectified.” He mutters the last word, so low you almost don’t hear it, and then there’s a knock at the door. Derek enters.

“Sheriff wants a word, Hotch; do you have a sec?” With one last look at you, he nods, brushes past him to leave the room. Derek gives you the barest hint of a smile. “He was defending your honor, you know.”

You frown. You didn’t know.

“That jerk was talking about me?” you ask, clarifying, and he nods.

“Something about assuming you’re an athlete because he likes your ass. Set the boss man off.” You walk over to him and leave the room together, heading back to your workspace.

“Well Hotch is right, we’re here to work, not to be objectified. I can see how he would get angry.” Derek shoots you a flat, questioning glance.

“You think he’d be getting that worked up if it was my ass that guy was talking about? Or Emily’s?” The two of you stop outside the conference room, and you cross your arms, lean against the doorframe, frown.

“So what are you trying to say? That he sees me as being weak, thinks he needs to defend me? I'm as capable as either of you.” That may not be strictly true, because you’re a little more brains than brawn, like Spencer in that way, but you can hold your own and you thought Hotch knew that.

Derek just laughs, shakes his head, and ducks into the room. You follow, so confused.

“I thought you were just playing it close to the vest, but you’re oblivious, aren’t you?”

“Oblivious about what?” Emily asks, pen between her teeth, feet kicked up onto a chair, and you shrug.

“I’m still not sure. Hotch got into an argument with a deputy about me, and I asked Derek if Hotch thinks I’m weak and that’s why he felt like he had to defend me.” She smiles broadly around the pen, pulls it out of her mouth with a grin.

“Oh, honey. That’s not it. You know that’s not it, right?”

“I clearly don’t know what’s going on at all, so no, if you’d care to enlighten me,” you say, sinking into an empty chair. “I hate it when you guys are cryptic.” You love your team, but they have a habit of doing this all the time, saying things to each other with their eyes, or just a few words that don’t have any sensible meaning that you know of. It’s like they live to talk over your head, to say things without actually saying them.

“Okay. Hotch has a thing for you,” Emily says simply, and you blink.

Well that’s the very last thing you’d expected to hear.

“He absolutely does not.” You look at Derek, who’s making a face like you’re the one being crazy; you laugh out loud, can’t help it. “He does not. I’m pretty sure Hotch doesn’t have things, and if he did, he wouldn’t have a thing for me.”

“Why not? Because that would be too convenient, since you have a thing for him too?” Derek asks, taking the seat across from you, and you grab the nearest case file, flip it open and focus your attention on it.

“I care about him, the same way I care about all of you, and he maybe needs a little more care—but you guys are reading into things.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything more, because Hotch, JJ, and Spencer return, and you all have a lead to work.

You can’t help but wonder if you’re being obvious about your feelings, though, especially later, when you get back to the hotel and the group decides to have a drink at the bar.

JJ and Emily hit the pool table while Derek and Spencer head up for drinks, and you are left sitting with Hotch at the table, pressed together in the inside corner of a booth.

“Tired?” you ask him, because he does look worn out, his tie a bit loose, his eyes a little red. You know he doesn’t get much sleep when you travel, and you can’t imagine he’ll go to bed even when this little detour is over.

“Always,” he sighs, but when he looks over at you, he smiles, just a little. “Just can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Yeah, it gives Southern hospitality a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” The people you’ve interviewed today are, on paper, quite respectable, but there’s a Desperate Housewives, ‘everyone is sleeping with someone else's spouse’ kind of thing going on, and it’s honestly exhausting. To your surprise, Hotch laughs.

“It really does. I don’t think I’ve ever missed the quiet solitude of my apartment quite this much.” You lean back against the vinyl of the booth, sigh.

“I miss my apartment, but it’s been too quiet lately. I prefer the sounds of someone else sharing space with me: the coffee maker percolating, the news in the background, the shower running, the sound of flipping the pages of a book or magazine.” You look down at your hands, because you’re getting a little more emotional than you usually let other people see. “Sorry. I’m not typically this open about being…”

You trail off, but Hotch looks over at you, concerned, the wrinkle between his eyebrows even more noticeable when you’re sitting this close. You think, just briefly, of running your thumb over it, but with your luck, Derek or Emily would see, and you’d never live it down.

“Lonely?” he finishes softly, and when you nod your head, he covers your hands with one of his own, bumps his shoulder against yours. “I get lonely too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You look up at him, feeling a little vulnerable, and his expression softens. “When we get back, maybe you could come over for dinner some night. Nothing fancy,” he clarifies, and you smile, “just two lonely people being a little less lonely.”

“That would be really nice.” You can see Derek and Spencer approaching out of the corner of your eye, and Hotch must too, because he removes his hand, slips back into the slight, persistent frown you have come to know and love. Derek looks at you, raises an eyebrow, and hands you your beer. You try to tell him to shut up with your face, plan to follow up later to see if that actually worked. “We have an agent down on the second floor,” Spencer says into his comms, and you immediately want to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t say agent down, kid; I’m like, slightly wounded at best.” You hold a hand against the stab wound on your side—the unsub honestly just grazed you, and you’d knocked him out with a single punch, which made you feel pretty awesome—and reach out the other so he can help pull you to your feet. Your hand comes up to your own walkie button. “I’m not down, I’m fine—just slightly stabbed,” you add, and Spencer is getting his cuffs on the unsub when Hotch and JJ burst through the doors.

Well, Hotch bursts. JJ follows behind looking strangely winded for one of the most naturally athletic people you know.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asks, and you lift your shirt to show him the sluggishly bleeding gash.

“I’m fine, see? It’s not even deep. Spencer saw blood and got a little ahead of himself.” You turn to Spencer, who sticks out his tongue, then back to Hotch, who looks haunted and pale, with that goddamn wrinkle between his eyebrows again. He’s bent down, looking over your wound seriously—you’ve had worse, so much worse, that you don’t understand why he’s so worried about it—and then he leans up, presses a hand to your cheek, and pulls you close for a soft, tender kiss.

If this were a movie, right about now a camera would be panning around you in a circle, as you wrap your free hand around his neck, pull him closer, melt against his body like it’s all you’ve been dreaming of for months, and the two of you would break apart smiling, maybe even kiss again.

It’s not a movie, though, so you just bleed out against your hand and freeze, because Hotch is kissing you at a crime scene and you almost got filleted, so you’re not sure if this is a you got hurt, so I’d better kiss you kiss or an I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever, and you got hurt so I have to kiss you kiss.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both breathing a bit heavily, and you don’t know what to do, so you just lean in and press your lips to that wrinkle between his eyebrows that you’ve been thinking about so frequently since the first time you noticed it. You brush a hand through his hair, and when you pull back, he’s smiling.

“What was that?” He covers your hand on your side with his own and helps get you toward the elevator so you can be patched up by the EMTs; JJ and Spencer are left staring, open-mouthed in your wake, with an unconscious unsub at their feet, but neither of you are concerned about that.

“I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now: to kiss that spot between your eyes so you’ll stop frowning for a change. Since I couldn’t, I decided to find other ways to help you stop frowning so much. It kind of became my life’s mission.” He sighs, puts his arm around you and holds you close while you wait for the elevator to bring you to the ground floor.

“I stop frowning when you’re around because you’re around, not just because of the things you do for me,” he tells you, and he presses his lips to yours for another warm, soft, perfect kiss. “I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now.” You tilt your head, make a sound of contemplation, and he chuckles softly. “What is it?”

“I think those cryptic idiots we work with might be onto something,” you say with a grin, and when the elevator lets you off and Hotch helps you toward the ambulance to be patched up, Derek and Emily are waiting with concerned looks on their faces. They must be pretty confused to see you’re grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you guys were right; Hotch does have a thing for me!” you call as you walk past them, and when your wound is properly dressed and wrapped, you put your arms around his neck and let him kiss you until the frown and accompanying wrinkle are nothing but distant memories.

*The novel excerpt is from The Weaver by Emmi Itäranta.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt #aaron hotchner x gn reader #hotch x gn reader #request

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midgardianweasley · 3 years ago

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Your grace! Bless us with a Natasha x reader where the team is invited to a wedding by a close friend of Tony’s. Then when the bridal bouquet is thrown, the bride throws it too hard where reader accidentally catches it and the team is just going “Oooooh!” And reader is like “I’m not even in a relationship!” But the team know in secret that reader and Natasha have feelings for each other but are too dumb to know. Just funniness and fluff! 🥰😍 (Your writing is brilliant btw!)

I loved this request!! I hope i did it justice <3

it’s a wedding thing

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

^idk Nat, you tell me^

Summary: When the Avengers get invited to a close friend of Tony's wedding, what hidden feelings will surface? What relationships will bloom? Who will be the next bride?

Warnings: none!

word count: 4.1k

Message/ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

requests are open loves

“Alright gang, this one’s for all of us, we all listening?”

A cluster of ‘yes’ ‘go on’ ‘come on Tony’ filled the room, everyone eager to hear what the fancy envelope held inside. It was amusing to watch Tony take advantage of everyone’s excitement, slowly peeling the envelope, gasping when he pulled the letter out of the casing slightly, not letting anyone else see what was written on it.

You, Natasha and Wanda all seemed to share a look of amusement at the dramatics and the almost visible frustration coming off of everyone. It was like watching children try to wait patiently for sweets in a shop, almost completely off of their seats. It wasn’t until Tony noticed that Pepper was giving him a warning look, that he, begrudgingly, hurried up and announced what was written on the letter.

“Wow. Caleb’s getting married.” He spoke, eyebrows raised in surprise. “And he’s invited the team.”

“Well, I’m not going.” A voice spoke from the corner of the room, clearly un-amused by what was currently going on.

“Luckily for you, I don’t see ‘reindeer games’ anywhere on the invitation. So you’re off the hook.” He replied with a tight lipped smile, Thor had been visiting recently to see Jane and pay the avengers a visit and wanted to bring Loki to meet her.

‘A pleasant trip’ Thor said.

‘A living hell’ Tony corrected.

It got a laugh out of the team though. Nat and I especially. We’d spent the last couple of nights in each other’s bedrooms, making a list about our favourite moments through the day where Tony and Loki clashed, making stupid insults towards the other. I think it’s safe to say that we went through multiple bags of popcorn over the nights, though you were both thankful it was there, it was the only thing muffling the laughter, if it hadn't, you’re almost certain the entire compound would have woken up at the sound of our laughter.

You nudged Natasha’s side gently, the bicker between the two men still continuing.

“Hey, Nat.” She turned and tilted her head questioningly.

“So we know how a physical fight between those two worked out. But, if they had to compete in a rap battle, who do you think would win?”

Her face immediately lit up, eyes sparkling which only enhanced their beauty, you could almost feel the cogs turning in her head, trying to go through every logical option.

“Well. Loki seems pretty well spoken, so vocabulary wise, I think he’d be strong. But Tony is sarcastic which can help with quick quips. But then again, Loki-”

“Hey lovebirds, Romanoff, Y/L/N” Tony clicked his fingers, earning himself a pair of eyerolls at the term he’d used. “Anything you wanna share with the team, or can we move on?”

“Actually-”

“Overridden. Moving on.”

You looked towards Natasha, snickering slightly at how blunt he’s being, Loki having found his way under his skin again. A part of you felt bad for the man, but that feeling is soon replaced by amusement. It was obvious Nat felt the same way, her sharing the same expression as you, although, you could hide yours much better. She had to physically put her hand over her mouth in the hopes the man wouldn’t notice her.

“So, the wedding is next week, a little short notice but when do we ever have enough notice, who’s in?”

Looking around the room, there were a handful of nods, each looking to see who else was going to go. You looked towards Nat again to see if she was planning on attending, only to find her already staring at you.

“So Y/L/N, up for a wedding?”

“It would be a nice change of pace. Are you going?”

“Only if you are” You blushed slightly at the response.

“Better get your nicest dress on Romanoff.” You winked, her turn to blush and focus back on what the rest of the group was saying.

“It’s probably easy if I list couples first on the RSVP and then the singles.” Tony took a glance around the table, mentally taking note of those who had shown signs of agreement. “So there’ll be Wanda and Vision, Legolas and his wife, Romanoff and Y/L/N, Thor and Jane-” You felt your face morph into one of confusion.

“Woah woah, Tony, back up, what did you say?”

“Thor and Jane, they’re-”

“Before that.”

“I’ve said this before Y/N, Legolas isn’t actually real. I meant Clint.”

“Very funny.” He held a proud smirk. “Romanoff and I aren’t a couple”

You wish.

“That’s not what Rogers said when he saw you both cuddling up on the sofa last night.” Before you had a chance to look in Steve’s direction, you could practically feel the daggers Nat was sending him, making his face cringe slightly and his back straighten.

“That’s what Rogers said, is it?” She spoke, tilting her head in question. You knew she was partly joking, but you’d still decided to intervene before anyone lost any limbs.

“My head fell onto her shoulder when I dozed off during our movie. It wasn’t ‘cuddling’ , thank you very much.” You laughed, internally wishing that Steve’s words were true.

“See? So cut it out.” Steve put his hands up in surrender, despite having a cheeky grin on his face.

“Okay okay. Fine!” The billionaire said, writing something on the envelope. “I’ll just put ‘couple pending’” He muttered

“Stark!”

__________________________

You and the girls had just come back from dress shopping, all three of you had spent the whole day in and out of different shops, hours in dressing rooms and your voices were almost completely gone with how often you were telling each other, ‘that looks stunning’ ‘that’s the one!’ and the most common one by the end of the trip; ‘please just pick a dress so we can go home and nap’. That one was from our very own black widow, her patience wore a little thin after 8 hours of staring at dresses.

You had gone through all the colours and styles while you were out, ranging from classy jumpsuits to figure hugging dresses that felt like a second skin. Wanda and Natasha had chosen their dresses and were eager to find you one, and what a mission that was.

“I promise you, we’re not going home until we find this dress, okay?”

“Wanda’s right. We’ll stay out until they all shut if we have to. But, let’s make that a last resort.” Natasha eyed you both warily.

You’d been walking around for hours now. Each dress you tried on had potential, but there was always something that didn’t sit right with you. It was either too baggy, too tight, the cut wasn’t appealing, the length wasn’t ideal, it was starting to feel hopeless. You’d even suggested just going in your pyjamas, but Wanda’s death glare had made it clear that wasn’t an option.

You and Natasha were both dragging your feet, Wanda still having a slight spring in her step as you walked into the final shop and picking up a couple of dresses before then going into the dressing room to try them on.

The first two were okay, but you weren’t a fan. Then there was the third one. The third one was a gorgeous Y/F/C dress that fell just past your knees, it had thin straps and the skirt was simple and loose so that when you spun around in it, you felt like a princess. You looked in the mirror and you adored the reflection, you still wanted the others opinions though, though you didn’t doubt that they’d feel the same way.

Pulling the curtain back and gaining their attention from where they were looking elsewhere, you smiled when you saw their reaction, more specifically, Natasha’s. Wanda was complimentary, walking up and feeling the fabric, gushing about how beautiful you looked, but you barely heard it, too focused on the redhead sitting in front of you, her eyes glazed over and her jaw almost on the floor, completely zoned out on you.

“This dress is it, Y/N, you have to get it! Nat? What do you think?” Her head shook, bringing herself back to reality and briefly meeting your eyes, only to quickly dart between You, Wanda and your dress in an attempt to compose herself.

“Yeah, I mean, wow, you look- wow.” Her hands flailed in your direction. You’d knocked the assassin speechless. Wanda rolled her eyes playfully at the interaction. She’d known about you and Nat’s feelings for each other for a month or two now, silently cursing the both of you when there was an opportunity to confess, yet never did. It was obvious to the rest of the team, why were neither of you picking up on it?

Keeping quiet, she ushered you back into the changing room, much to Natasha’s relief, both because she wanted to head back to the compound and she wasn’t sure how much longer she would’ve lasted seeing you standing there looking literally flawless. She always thought you looked amazing, but there was something about the way you looked in front of her just then that made her brain feel like a haze.

It was pretty safe to say,

You bought the dress.

Collapsing on your bed, dropping your bags to the side and letting out a loud sigh, you heard your door shut and someone fall into the chair by the window. You already knew who it was.

“I’m exhausted.” The woman groaned, rubbing her hands up and down her face to attempt to physically remove the tiredness from her body.

“Sorry for dragging you around for so long, I just-”

“Hey, no, don’t apologise for that. We all said we’d find the perfect dress, and it was worth the wait.” Heat rose to your cheeks at her words.

“You really think I looked good?”

Natasha could sense your underlying tone of doubt, unsure as to why you would doubt her opinion, she’d always been honest with you. Nonetheless, she heaved herself out of her seat and made her way to the end of the bed, kneeling down so that your now sat up figure could look down into her eyes, with her hands on each side of your face to focus you on her and her alone.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, okay? You looked incredible and I'm sure you’ll look even better at this wedding on Saturday, if that’s even possible.” You let out a small chuckle at her words as a smile made its way onto her face.

“You’ll be the prettiest one there.”

“Better not tell the Bride you said that, Nat.” She laughed, looking down for only a few seconds before looking at you again.

“We’ll make that our secret.” You nodded in silent agreement, grateful that she’d made you feel so reassured.

“Thank you, Tasha.”

“You’re more than welcome, sweetheart.” She replied.

You were so lost in her words, you hadn’t realised how close her face had gotten to yours, and how her eyes swapped between your eyes and your lips. You didn’t realise how she subconsciously had kept edging towards you, hands trembling a little with every inch closer she gets.

She wanted to kiss you. Every nerve in her body was almost electrified with the temptation to just move her lips over yours and become one. Her pulse raced, almost to prepare her for doing so. Which is why she wanted to kick herself with a pair of her highest heels when she uttered her next words.

“We should get some sleep.”

You broke out of your trance, jumping backwards slightly when noticing limited space between you both. You awkwardly coughed as she stood, heading back over to her chair to grab her bag and return to her room.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Big today, rest is probably a good idea.” You both nodded, she was already one foot out of the door when she gave you a small ‘goodnight’ and left, not waiting to hear you say it back.

Just like you hadn’t realised her actions early, you were oblivious to her hitting her head off of the wall in the corridor just outside of your room, wondering why she’d backed away. Where was Thor’s hammer when you needed to knock some sense into yourself? She thought before dragging herself back to her room where she would fall asleep, unable to get you out of her head.

_________________________

“Right! Headcount before we go in! And I want us all on our best behaviour Avengers, this is a wedding” Steve had completely lost you after ‘Headcount’. Not only are most of you fully grown adults, sorry Peter, but he seems to be oblivious to the fact that some of you were wearing high heels, and patience in high heels had an expiry date.

“Y’know, if he doesn’t let us in soon, I’m not afraid to threaten him with his own shield.” You heard a whisper just behind your ear, smirking at the comment.

“I’ll join you.” You answered, Bruce and Clint sharing a knowing look from afar when watching the two of you have your own quiet conversation, though short lived when they saw Natasha’s head move in their direction, their gaze coming to a halt so as to avoid any conflict with their teammate.

You guys could try to hide it all you want, but your entire team knows better than that, they just had to wait it out until you both finally admitted it to the other.

______________________

You and the Avenger’s were currently sitting at a guest table, now in the reception part of the evening. The ceremony was beautiful, the bride wore a crisp white ball gown with her makeup and hair done to perfection, the groom looking like a prince in his black tux and a look full of adoration towards his wife to be painted on his face.

Their looks weren’t the best part of it though. The clothes and the accessories were lovely, of course. But all you could focus on was the love shared between them as they shared their vows telling the other how they believed they were each other's soulmate, and that they promised to always be the other’s rock. You’d found yourself with tears in your eyes, barely able to appreciate the sight with how blurry your vision was now. They finally fell when they said their ‘I do’s’, feeling only happiness for the newlyweds.

Although marriage hadn’t been something you always thought about, you’d hoped that you would meet your special someone and settle down, retire from the missions, the battles, the superhero lifestyle and just be with your soulmate for the rest of your days.

Despite not being a couple, whenever you thought of the person you wanted to spend the rest of your time with, there was only one person that came to mind. And she stood right in front of you throughout the ceremony, comforting a sobbing demi-god while he was also trying to explain to Vision why he was in floods of tears.

Music filled the room, upbeat, but calm enough for the couples on the dancefloor to sway gently to the beat, soft lights occasionally shining on them as they danced, the bride and groom being one of them. You smiled gently at the sight, feeling dreadfully single with all of the love in the room, but grateful that you could see so many people look so content and in love with their significant other.

An elbow could suddenly be felt in your side, pulling you from your thoughts to instead be met with gorgeous green eyes and a bold red smirk.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She leaned in, curiosity clouding her mind.

“Nothing much up there really.” You glanced back at the dance floor quickly. “I’m just happy to see everyone so happy.”

Natasha followed your direction of where you were looking, an idea soon popped into her head. She was going to ask you to dance.

Her mouth opened to speak, but as if it was done on purpose, a ‘screech’ echoed in the ballroom, catching everyone’s attention, including taking yours away from hers.

“We’re taking a break from dancing for a minute folks, It’s time for the bride to throw the bouquet!” He announced, soon followed by shrieks and the sound of feet padding on the wooden floor, women all gathering in a small bunch, huddled together as if their lives depended on it as the men all returned to their seats, shaking their heads at the commotion.

Not really wanting to take part, you turned back around again.

“Sorry Nat, what were you-”

“Y/N!” Your head fell as you were interrupted by a very excited Maximoff.

“Y/N! C’mon! We need to do the bouquet toss!” She started to pull you up, refusing to listen to any excuse you could possibly conjure up to avoid having to take part.

Giving the team a desperate look, hoping someone will help you escape, you’re instead met with encouraging and amused faces, including Natasha’s a clear indication that not a single person was going to help you. Traitor’s.

With a half serious eye roll, you quickly grabbed your glass of champagne and kicked off your heels, heading towards the group of screaming women basically crawling on top of one another when the bride was barely up on the ‘stage’ yet. You let Wanda wander off into the group but remained towards the back, sipping from your glass and sending the occasional sneaky glare towards your table.

“You guys ready?” The bride yelled, only to be met with more screams and a faint chorus of ‘yes’ heard among it as they all threw their hands higher. Wanda saw you were just stood there, and subtly used her powers to raise your hand, earning loud laughs and cheers from the Avengers, taking great joy in the scene unfolding in front of them.

“Okay! Three...Two..”

You kept your arm up, pretending to be enthusiastic about the toss, when you realistically didn’t really expect much from these kinds of traditions. What you definitely hadn’t expected, was for your figure to stumble backwards as you suddenly felt petals and stems in your palm, a faint feeling of silk brushing against your thumb as your fingers wrapped around the item.

You almost spat out your champagne, eyes widening in shock as you looked to see the arrangement of flowers in your grip, looking up to see women both disheartened and elated at your catch. How the hell had you managed that? You were literally the farthest person away, and on your own! You must’ve been set up. Okay, a bit of a stretch, but still!

“WOOO, Y/L/N IS GETTING MARRIED!”

“WHO’S THE LUCKY SOMEONE Y/N?”

“Y/N CAUGHT THE FLOWERS, Y/N CAUGHT THE FLOWERS.”

The bride noticeably laughed at your friend’s cheers, she hadn’t meant to throw it that far back, her arm just kinda went full force, but seeing the reaction it caused, she didn’t regret it. She didn’t even regret it when she saw the look of embarrassment on your face, as it was soon replaced with a contagious beam as you walked towards them again, a very proud Wanda in tow,

“Guys! Guys! I’m not even in a relationship! I highly doubt i’m the next woman in this room to get married.” You joked

“Well, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Sam laughed “Romanoff, you got an engagement ring handy?” He yelped as a peanut from the centre of the table was thrown at him, and of course with being a trained assassin, Nat had hit him right in the centre of his forehead, earning a dramatic noise of pain to leave his mouth.

These guys will be the death of you.

__________________

After some teasing, the room had filled once again with happy couples dancing, now including some you were very familiar with, one being a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist and his CEO wife, and another being an Asgardian with his Midgardian girlfriend, both gently moving side to side in time with the music.

Letting out a content sigh, you were met once again with the flowers, however, this time, they weren’t on the table, but were held by a gorgeous woman in a flawless navy dress.

“So, I know we aren’t a couple, but, would the future bride like to dance?” She asked, you let out a content sigh, pretending to think it over for a minute.

“Y’know what, I would, thank you for your kind offer.” You took the hand she’d held out for you and led you to the dance floor. While her hands went to your waist, gently tugging you closer, your arms went around her neck, hands interlocking behind her as you, like the others you’d admired all even, swayed.

You’re unsure when it happened, much like a time before, but your head had made its way onto your dance partner's shoulder, your body following suit as it left no room between the two of you, though you weren’t complaining. Neither was the fellow Avenger.

It was peaceful for a period of time, the only sound being the slow music and a quiet chatter of people across the floor. It wasn’t long before you heard the red head above you whisper in your ear once again.

“You really do look amazing tonight, Y/N.” You raised your head so it was directly opposite hers, sending her an appreciative gaze.

“That future fiance of yours is lucky.” She winked.

“Hilarious” You scoffed, fully aware of her humorous tone.

“I know, sometimes I amaze even myself with my jokes.”

“Well, it really is funny, because I honestly don’t see myself getting married anytime soon.” Nat’s eyebrows raised in what could almost be described as confusion.

“And why is that? Do you not want to get married?” Her hands started grazing up and down your waist, like she was comforting you, but really she was bracing herself for what was incoming.

“No, no it’s not that. I just..”

“Just?”

“I don’t think the person i’m interested in, is necessarily interested in me.” Her heart dropped. So you did have someone of interest. She pushed the sinking feeling to the side quickly so that she could respond.

“Right, and why is that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen them make a move. I thought it’d be obvious. I think it has been to some others.” Your eyes wandered, lingering for longer than what was probably appropriate, on Natasha’s plump lips, wondering if you’d ever get to experience what it’d be like to feel them on yours.

This time, Natasha didn’t miss it. She would’ve blamed it on alcohol, saying that she must’ve just imagined it, but she had only consumed a few drops all evening, being too entranced by you didn’t leave much room for hydration. She hadn’t been more thankful, because it made a light bulb go off in her head as the pieces came together in her head of who you were referring to. She didn’t make a move the other night. It was obvious to the team. How could she have been so blind?

You didn’t see it coming, even when your chin was held in her grasp and you saw her face leaning in towards yours, the reality only hitting you when you finally felt what you’d been wanting to feel for the last months, right now. Your surroundings had just disappeared, the only thing that was running through your head, was the way her lips were moving against yours, and the way her lips tasted faintly of vanilla, and how she smelled like her floral perfume she wore for special occasions.

Whooping and cheering brought you both back from your bubble with just the two of you, your head falling just below her chin, her hand stroking your back as you could feel her chuckle bubbling where your head lay. Well, hid. Her arms had muffled their comments, but you had an idea of what they were, probably a mixture of ‘finally!’, ‘i knew it!’ and you’re almost certain you heard a ‘You owe me 20 bucks.’, that one making you shake your head.

Remaining in your hiding spot, that wasn’t very well hidden, but was keeping your bright red face to yourself, a pair of familiar lips lingered right beside your head.

“So, about that bouquet..”

You weren’t getting married, but by the end of the night, you definitely didn’t feel so dreadfully single as you had earlier.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

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theringers · 3 years ago

Text

hard work - mick schumacher

summary: you spent your entire day studying and you need some help winding down at the end of the day

a/n: hi, hope y’all enjoy this. i woke up thinking about it and couldn’t stop so i wrote it down. as always feedback is very much appreciated :)

also this is unedited will fix later thx besties

warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, fingering, unprotected sex

Mick was propped up on the bed, casually scrolling through Netflix to figure out what to watch next.

Lucky him, you thought as you dropped your head into your textbook for the millionth time that day. It was almost 6pm and you hadn’t left your office. Only to use the bathroom and to get a little bit of food.

Finals were brutal and this year was no different. You had four cumulative exams coming up in the next week and your boyfriend decided that this weekend would be good to visit. “I’ll help you study,” “We can work together” yeah right.

He was watching tv and minding his own business, which you appreciated. No distractions.

He was very distracting as is, so you were glad he was making an active effort to stay out of your way.

You read over the formulas again and your temples strained, having trouble even remembering the easiest of formulas. You were overworking yourself. Sometimes you can hit a point where more studying just won’t help, it’ll only hurt and frustrate you.

Mick had been asking you to take a break all day but you refused, needing to stay in the right headspace to focus.

A smirk was plastered on his face when you walked into the room, excited that you were finally settling down. You plopped on the end of the bed. “I’m exhausted. Everything hurts. Fuck this,” you said. It was your typical reaction to studying. You loved what you were studying but reviewing anything this much could make you hate it.

“Oh, darling.” He said, smiling at you and holding his arms out. He looked so sweet, cuddled up under your fuzzy blankets with a big sweatshirt on. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, trying to hide your appreciation. You slowly made your way to Mick and sat next to him, legs hanging off the bed. You patted your hand on his blanket covered thigh, groaning.

“You look stressed,” he said. “Come here.” He pulled the blanket off and patted the space between his legs. Being in his arms sounded like a dream right now. You scooted towards him, sitting between his legs with your back flat against his chest. He squeezed his arms around you in a hug. “You’ve done so much work today and I’m so proud of you.” You smiled at his words even though he couldn’t see your face. “You deserve to take a break.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, exposing your neck to him where he placed a soft kiss. You leaned your body into his, feeling a sense of relief and relaxation. It was crazy how fast he could change your mood. “I’m so lucky to have such a beautiful, intelligent woman,” he whispered in your ear.

You wanted to mess with him and crack a few jokes but you had no energy left to fake fight with him. His fingers drew a trail down your arm leaving goosebumps in its path. A chill ran through your body.

You could feel his hot breath still against your neck making your head fall onto one of his shoulders. His finger followed the trail it just made back up your body and the muscles in your stomach tightened when it grazed your collarbone. It was one of your most sensitive spots.

He moved his finger at an agonizingly slow pace, driving you insane.

He dipped his finger in the valley of your breasts and you looked down to see him take one in his hand. Lucky for him, studying all day means no bra needed.

You let out a soft moan as he kneaded your chest, getting rougher by the moment.

His other hand snaked it’s way around your body and dipped into your sweatpants, teasing your cloth covered entrance. “Oh, Mick,” you said, shifting your body when he placed the slightest touch on your center.

“You need to relax, darling.” His soft voice said into your ear. You knew he was right. He wanted to make you feel good but he was teasing you. Your desire for him was winding you up more than it was settling you down.

You inhaled in and let Mick have complete control. Your body settled comfortably into his and you were putty in his hands, literally. He held you securely with one hand groping your tits and the other down your sweatpants. “Focus on the TV, pretend I’m not here.” He said. “I want to make you feel good. You worked hard.”

You rested your body onto his as he played with your clit. His fingers went in circles, sometimes venturing off course to explore the rest of you. If he felt you tense up, he would give your clit a light smack to remind you to calm down.

Your body felt ice cold and on fire at the same time.

He nudged your thighs apart and you let your knees fall to the sides opening you up for him. He continued to leave kisses all over your neck and shoulder while his finger slid between your folds.

You were dripping wet and he was surprised. He knew how to turn you on but it had only been a few moments. “Were you thinking about me today?” He asked in your ear.

“Yes,” you said, keeping your voice low.

“What were you thinking about?” He asked as he let one finger slide inside your core.

Your hips bucked at the full sensation but his other hand held your body down.

What didn’t you think about today? Any time you couldn’t focus your mind wandered to your boyfriend. His body. His hands. His mouth, his tongue. All of it all over you and you wanted it so desperately.

“You fucking me. Hard.” You wanted to keep it vague. You wanted to be surprised to see what he has up his sleeve and not give him any ideas. He groaned in your ear.

You lifted the blanket and watched as his finger pumped in and out of you, the muscles and veins in his wrist and forearm prominent. Your focus was on his middle finger as you patiently waited for him to push it inside of you. He knew what he was doing so you were going to let him be in control, but god did you want to feel him so bad.

“You look so hot like this, darling. Completely under my control. Just let go,” he said.

You took your eyes off of his hands and looked up at the TV. Your mind focused on the pleasure he was bringing you. He took this as the perfect opportunity to let his second finger inside of you, catching you off guard. You twitched once again and moaned, wanting to be filled up all the way with him. It felt amazing but it wasn’t enough.

“Baby, I need you to fuck me,” you whispered.

His fingers began to pump harder. “What was that?” He asked seductively, his mouth lingering near your ear longer than you would have liked. “I didn’t hear you. I’m going to need you to say it again.”

You huffed out of annoyance. You needed relief and he was just having fun. “I need you to fuck me. Right now.” You felt his thumb inch closer to your clit and start rubbing in sync with the movement of his other fingers.

“I’m going to need you to say that one more time.” You felt him begin to get hard against your back and you knew that he would give in soon.

You rolled your eyes and you knew he was smirking behind you. “I need you so badly. I need you to fuck me senseless.” You raised your voice this time. He removed his fingers and slid down your sweatpants. You kicked them off and repositioned yourself so you were on his lap, facing him with your knees on either side of him. You looked at his eyes and smiled. He returned the grin and you looked at each other for just a brief moment. He lifted you up and pulled his own sweatpants off, giving you the opportunity to grind into his hard cock. A soft whimper escaped his lips and you knew he was ready. No more teasing.

He gripped your ass, lifted you up, and lined his cock up with your entrance. He teased you, pushing his tip into your clit before you inched down on him, feeling him fill you completely. The feeling you had been chasing this whole time.

You rocked your hips back and forth with your arms around his neck for support. He guided your hips back and forth and let his hands run all over your sides.

Your head fell back and your eyes were met with the white ceiling. Your back was arched and your hair fell all the way down to the bed.

“Holy shit, you look so incredibly beautiful right now.” He watched you lose yourself in the moment, in the feeling, in the motion of your hips, the collision with his. He reveled in your beauty and still couldn’t believe what you were doing right now.

He continued to bounce your hips, hitting the perfect spot to have you crying out in pleasure. Your pussy tightened around him, letting him know you were about to cum. He pulled you in closer to him and held you as you rode out your high in his arms. His arms held your back tightly as he kissed your bouncing tits. The only sounds that could be heard were moans and expletives as you both finished.

“I love you so much, darling.” He said, kissing your lips.

“I love you too,” you said, rolling off of him and onto the other side of the bed. He stood up to clean himself off and returned with a towel for you and a glass of water. He was met with you, passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow.

#f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #f1 fanfic #smut prompts #mick schumacher smut #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fanfic #mick schumacher fic #ms

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warmblanketwhump · 3 years ago

Text

flight plan

disclaimer: this takes place in pre-you-know-what times - if you’re actually sick, do not do what B does here. alright, on to the suffering :)

Back when B booked their flight, the 4 am boarding time and 2 layovers seemed like a great exchange for saving a few hundred dollars while flying across the country. But now, with a head that feels like it was stuffed with cotton, a gate change that forced their leadened body to trek across the entire airport, and an additional 3-hour delay before their final 4-hour flight, they were beginning to question their penny-pinching ways.

In a nearby terminal, a fussy infant screamed, and it took everything for B not to scream back at them: I hate it here too! Their nerves were frayed, their whole body ached to the bone, and their head felt like it was in a vise grip.

It hadn’t felt this bad this morning - heck, they wouldn’t have left if they’d felt this bad - but the changing cabin pressure and constant temperature shifts from hot, stuffy terminals to icy planes were wreaking havoc on their poor, rapidly sickening body. They’d been up for 18 hours. And now, they had no choice but to ride it out and power through the last leg. They hug the paper cup of tea they’d grabbed at a nearby cafe close to their chest, trying to hold back their frustrated tears.

They just wanted to be home.

B shifts on the hard terminal seat as they wrap up a third agonizing hour of waiting, willing the passengers ahead of them to board more quickly so they could just get home to A, who they’d been missing all week. But the miserable minutes ticked by, and B kept having to blow their tender nose with their precious (and dangerously dwindling) travel pack of tissues. As they massage their aching sinuses, B feels a tap on their shoulder. Turning, they recognize a fellow passenger from their previous flight extending another full pack their way.

“Here. You need these more than I do.” They extend the gift, and B gratefully accepts. The stranger nods, and heads back to their luggage to wait out the boarding process.

After what feels like an hour, B’s group is finally able to board the flight. From their boarding pass, they knew they’d be stuck in the middle seat, but their heart lifts a bit when they see their Kleenex-wielding savior in the aisle seat next to theirs, who waves and gives them a small smile as they let them through. On the window seat side, a sour-looking individual scans them up and down, raising an eyebrow when B coughs roughly in their elbow.

“Sorry…” B sniffles. The sour-faced person rolls their eyes and turns their attention to the window, and B shrinks in their seat, embarrassed.

“Just want to be home, right?” Their aisle friend smiles sympathetically, and B nods weakly. “I know the feeling. Name’s C.”

B introduces themselves, and the two make amicable small talk during the pre-flight checklist, finding out that they both called their destination city home. As the plane takes flight, B winces - the pressure change makes their head ache, and their sinuses feel like they’re going to explode, along with their ears. The dry air of the plane irritates their chapped nose, and they close their eyes and grip the armrest till their knuckles bleach, trying to breathe through the pain and praying it doesn't get worse.

It gets worse. On top of their pounding head and runny nose, B discovers like all the other planes, this one's an icebox. Once they reach cruising altitude, B apologetically shuffles by C to head to the bathroom, hoping that by some chance it’s warmer in there. In the dim light, B’s stares at their haggard reflection – their feverish eyes are glazed and watery, their raw nose is bright red, and their peaked face is wan and drawn, coated with a sheen of sweat. Hopefully A would still recognize them, they thought humorlessly.

The bathroom is just as frigid, and B’s stuck with a stream of lukewarm water that barely heats their cold hands. Back in their seat, the throbbing headache continues to build behind their eyes, and their throat desperately cries out for something to drink.

As if they could hear their thoughts, C leans over and pulls a small bottle of water from their personal bag. “The flight attendants came by with drinks while you were up - figured you could at least use some water.” B gratefully accepts and murmurs their thanks, and the cool water feels like heaven as they gulp it down.

After, B pulls the paper-thin flight blanket up to their chin - at this point, they didn’t care what the travel magazines said about how dirty they were. But it’s no use. The cold plane air sinks into their aching bones, and their body shivers to make up the difference. They close their eyes and wriggle around in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position that still allows them to curl up and get warm while exhaling as few germs as possible – and if there's any mercy at all, to fall unconscious for the next 3 and a half hours.

“Will you stop?” The window passenger glares at them. “It’s bad enough you brought your germs on here. But now you can’t even sit still?” Tears pricked at B's eyes - being sick always made them more sensitive - but before they can squeak out an apology, C leaps to their aid.

"Lay off," C snaps. "Can't you see they don't feel good?" The other passenger huffs indignantly, and presses closer to the wall of the plane. C's eyes don't leave them, and they stretch their hand out tentatively toward B. "May I?"

B nods, letting their eyes close, and C gently lays a cool hand across their forehead, clicking their tongue at the heat. "Well, I've definitely flown with healthier seatmates than you." B tries to laugh, but a cough seizes their lungs, and they double over to try and contain it as best they can as C gently rubs between their shoulder blades. When they finally catch their breath, they rest their head on their knees, exhausted from the exertion. From their prone position, B checks their watch. 3 hours and 26 minutes to go.

I'm going to die.

Slowly, B sits up and stiffly straightens their blanket with as little movement as possible. A draft floods their section of the plane, and B longingly eyes C’s unopened blanket tucked in the seat pocket, trying to quiet the incessant chatter of their teeth.

“You cold?” C frowns.

“Freezing,” they whimper through clenched teeth. “And I hurt all over and I just want to go home and I miss A and I’m so tired.” They didn’t mean to break down, but two twin tears slip from their eyes as they try to stop their lip from quivering.

C’s quiet for a moment, then stands to rustle around in the overhead compartment, and returns with a small bundle.

“Lean back,” C gently commands, and A obeys and closes their eyes. They’re immediately draped in warmth, and open their eyes to see a thick, fleece-lined jacket being tucked over them, along with a soft travel blanket over their legs. They try to protest, but C shushes them.

“Being sick is already miserable without being stuck in a tin can in the sky. Besides, these flight blankets suck." C gives B's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and B nearly melts at the touch.

“And look, if you don’t want to, it’s fine - you don’t know me - but you can use my shoulder if you want to try and catch some sleep.”

In any other moment B would be mortified, but they're so spent that they just nod weakly and surrender to the offer of comfort. C pulls their unused blanket out and folds it into a sort of pillow, clicking the armrest down between them, and B collapses onto them in a boneless heap. Sleep tugs at the edge of their vision, but there's one lingering question on their mind.

"C? Why....why are you helping me? You've been nothing but kind and you don't even know me."

C's quiet for a moment. "Last year, I tried to do the same thing you're doing – power through an 8-hour flight home with a blossoming case of pneumonia. Cough, chills, headache, the works. About 2 hours in, I was about ready to jump out of the plane." They chuckle lightly, but B hears the wistful note in their voice. "It was absolutely miserable, and all I wanted was someone to hold my hand and tell me it’d be okay.”

C turns to look at B. "But nobody did. Not a single soul. So I vowed that if ever I found myself in a position someday to help somebody home, I’d do it.”

The words are so achingly comforting and desperately sad, so soft and generous and B feels like they should say something, affirm that yes, helping a random sick passenger was damn close to sainthood. But instead, sleep wins over, and they nestle closer to C as they tumble into a soft, dreamless sleep.

it feels like they’re asleep for minutes, but when C nudges them gently, they realize that they’re descending. They’re home.

The wheels skid on the runway, and the journey off the plane is a blur of sound and color and too-bright lights. B is only vaguely aware of C’s arm around their waist, guiding them through the crowd and to the baggage claim area. They must have told C which suitcase is theirs, because they blink twice and it magically appears at their feet.

“C’mon now, B. Almost there.” C gently guides them forward, and B wills themselves to power through the final few minutes.

“Do you see A anywhere?” C asks, squinting through the crowd of people. B can barely focus their eyes, and they’re losing hope, when all of a sudden - they see them. A. Holding a small paper sign with B’s name and a stuffed animal with a small red heart in their arms, waving wildly. They’re beaming, but the smile falls from their face as they see what condition B’s in.

“B - what happened? Are you okay?” B can barely whisper A’s name, and A pulls them into a hug, gently whispering reassurances, that they’re home and safe.

“Bit of a rough flight, but B hung in there,” C smiles, passing B’s suitcase to A. “They’re not feeling too hot, but I think they’ll make it.”

Suddenly, B releases A and stumbles back to C, throwing their arms around them. C’s thrown off balance by the strength of the hug, but manage to compose themselves and pat them gently on the back.

“Thank you,” B whispers. “So much.”

C blushes. “It was nothing. Just don’t forget to pay it forward.”

B squeezes tighter. “You deserved help. You still do.” C says nothing, just swallows tightly, and B feels C’s arms tighten ever so briefly around their waist.

A rush of dizziness floods B, and C gently guides them back to A’s waiting arms, before handing A a scrap of paper. “Listen, it’s none of my business - but can you give me a call in a couple days, just so I know they’re feeling better?”

A takes the scrap and smiles. “Absolutely. It’s the least I can do to thank you for keeping old B from falling apart in public.” B grunts indignantly, almost asleep again, and A strokes their hair and smiles.

They make it back to the car, and A manages to maneuver a limp B into the passenger seat, tucking them in and cranking the heat on their side. B blinks their eyes open and smiles guilelessly. “Go home now?”

A smiles and presses a soft kiss to their forehead. “Yes, love. We’re going home now.”

#fever whump #sickfic #whump prompt #hurt comfort #caretaking #whump on a plane #PLANE WHUMP EVERYONE #FINALLY #this really took a turn I was not expecting when I set out to write this #BUT ITS DONE #also there is most certainly space for a part 2 👀

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

secret relationship // wanda maximoff

summary: you're the daughter of the famous Black Widow, which comes with its own set of hurdles such as revealing to her that you're dating the newest Avenger that she also happens to be mentoring – Wanda Maximoff. What could go wrong?

warning/s: minor (implied) violence and injury

author's note: okay so the request was the reader is Natasha's daughter and is struggling to tell Natasha that she's dating Wanda. All I know is I got excited (as usual) and this happened so yeah, enjoy! Also, Wanda’s age is always a mystery to me since it’s interpreted differently with everyone, so I tried my best to explain the age gap between you and natasha so things made sense.

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"Did you know red onion and red cabbage is called 'red' instead of 'purple' because back in the old days, they didn't have enough words for colours so anything purple was defined as red?"

"The mission, Y/N," my mum, Natasha Romanoff, AKA Black Widow, scolded.

I sighed, my attention still focused on my surroundings and my gun directed ahead. "I know, I know. But did you know that the most common internet password is '123456'?"

"Y/N," Wanda, my girlfriend and teammate said with a laugh. "Stop it."

"Yeah, please, quit it," my mum added with an eye roll.

I smiled at Wanda, admiring how beautiful she looked when she hid her laugh. My mum wasn't aware we were dating, so I settled for sending her a playful wink before looking ahead.

I knew I had to focus on the mission – scouting out this abandoned HYDRA den – but it was boring. And it was obviously empty of any threats, so talking was my only pastime.

"Did you know the inventor of Pringles is buried in a Pringles can?" I said after a moment of silence, making my mum stop walking abruptly.

"Okay, you know what? New plan," she said, looking between Wanda and I. "Everyone split up. Take a look around. Stay alert. Keep in contact. Sound good?"

I quirked a brow. "You trying to get rid of me?"

She narrowed her eyes my way. "Yes."

I frowned, making Wanda crack a smile and nudge me in the shoulder.

"You need to learn to have an off button sometimes," she joked, her Sokovian accent shining through despite the voice lessons my mum was giving her. Honestly, I preferred her Sokovian accent to her American one.

"You love it," I teased, giving her a knowing smile, my mother completely unaware of the double meaning.

"Just do as I said," my mum said, already shooing me away. "Wanda, you know what to do. If you see or hear anything suspicious, use your comms."

"Yes, Miss Romanoff," Wanda said obediently, and I tried so hard to hold in laughter at her seriousness. I mean, it was great that she was respectful of my mother and her mentor, but God it was funny to witness.

"Once again, Wanda, you can just call me Nat," my mum said with a wince, trying to be polite. "Go on."

Wanda nodded and walked off, her gun raised as she'd practiced. I grinned at my mum, noticing the way she massaged her temple with mild agitation before her gaze fell to mine.

"Go. Now." She pointed behind me, and I stifled a laugh.

"Bet you love babysitting duty," I joked.

"It's not babysitting if I'm your mother," she pointed out. "Though sometimes, you make me regret not picking the baby instead of you."

"That baby would have been six years old now," I informed her. "If anything, I spared you the whole diaper thing and the outgrowing clothes thing and the– oh yeah! Not being able to speak thing!"

"At least they wouldn't be annoying me with stupid facts," she retorted, hand on her hip. "Now be a good agent and do your job."

I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing she was kidding. Whenever I annoyed her, she'd bring up the story of how it was between twelve year old me and a six-month old baby at the adoption centre. She was worried I'd view her as an older sister or something, hence her choice of adopting the baby instead. But I never did, as she was always way more mature than any twenty-seven year old I'd met or seen at the time. And maybe, I guess, I was really desperate to have a motherly figure, and she just happened to fit the bill.

"Aye, aye, Miss Romanoff," I saluted, making her raise an eyebrow threateningly. "Okay, geez, I'm going."

I wandered off, exploring the dishevelled HYDRA den with full focus. The brief clearly stated it was an abandoned site, but I stayed on alert anyway in case there were stragglers. As usual, I only got given half the facts because of my clearance level, so I knew we were looking for a hard drive, but I had no idea what was on it.

Being a seventeen year old working in S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't exactly how I saw my life going when I grew up in an orphanage. I honestly never thought I'd get adopted, as rumours spread quite quickly through the orphanage that once you hit double digits, nobody wanted you. So, when the beautiful, red-headed Natasha Romanoff came in, looking for an addition to her family, I felt like the luckiest kid in the world because she chose me of all the kids there.

I definitely didn't expect her to be the Black Widow, nor to teach me everything she knew about espionage, stealth, hand-to-hand combat and much more. She ensured I was multi-lingual like her, preparing me for the many S.H.I.E.L.D. missions I would have to go on. There were times when I absolutely despised her, particularly when she overtrained me or stopped me from seeing my friends. And there were times when I wished she'd never adopted me, hating that I couldn't have a normal teenage experience.

But when it came down to it, I knew I couldn't have asked for a more caring, considerate and compassionate mother. I learnt early on into our relationship that she was unable to have kids of her own, hence her interest in adoption. And honestly speaking? That was probably the worst thing in the world because if anybody deserved a child of their own, it was Natasha Romanoff. I guess, in that sense, I was lucky to have all of her love to myself.

Now that I was older, I came to appreciate how awesome she was, especially when we got to go on missions together and I saw her awesomeness upfront. The only thing was, she was extremely overprotective, so it was difficult to get sent on the dangerous missions. Though, I guess, whenever I did, she was always there to have my back and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Her overprotectiveness was also a reason why she didn't know about Wanda and I's relationship. Wanda had joined the Avengers a year ago after losing her brother in the battle against Ultron. She was a year older than me, so naturally we were drawn to each other, and before I knew it, our friendship became more. But of course, my mother could never know that. At least not yet.

"Empty here," I mumbled, rounding a corner into an empty room. As I looked through the rubbish on the desk, I continued, "Empty here... and here... and oh, look, here, too. What a surprise!"

"Y/N, I love you, but God help me I will kill you if you don't turn your damn mic off," my mother's voice came through my comms piece in my ear.

For once, I wasn't trying to piss her off, so I smiled sheepishly to myself and replied, "Sorry. Love you."

I could imagine the eye roll she was giving me in response, so continued to look around for the hard drive I saw on the brief. Still, there was nothing here.

My searching was interrupted when I heard a loud crash from a nearby room, like the sound of bricks tumbling against one another. I spun around, eyes widening with concern.

"Y/N? Wanda? What happened?" my mum's voice came through my ear, slightly reassuring me as it wasn't her who was caught up in anything. But then that meant–

"Wanda! What happened?" I replied worriedly, already rushing out of the room and to the source of the sound.

"I'm okay," Wanda's shaky voice came through my ear, which did nothing to ease my concern.

I found the room Wanda was in quite quickly, seeing her sat on the floor as if she'd been pushed. She had a deep cut on her forehead and looked visibly distressed. Running to her side, I kneeled down beside her and cupped her face, studying her head.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" The words tumbled from my mouth so quickly I wasn't sure if it was understandable.

She nodded slowly, accepting my hand and holding it for reassurance. I followed her gaze, seeing a hole in the wall ahead, bricks crumbling and dust beginning to settle. Laying on the floor through the hole and into the next room was a HYDRA soldier, clearly dead from the impact of hitting the bricks.

Wanda's power was magnificent, but hard to control. A year later and she was still learning its limits, but sometimes slip-ups like this happened. I was, admittedly, in awe of her actions.

"I'm sorry, I should have kept him alive like Miss Ro– Nat said," Wanda apologised suddenly, and I looked back at her to see her shaking her head. "He just– he startled me and I didn't know what I was doing until it happened. I thought–"

"Don't apologise," I cut her off, squeezing her hand gently, before looking back to the cut on her forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay. You did good."

Despite my words, I bit my lower lip to contain a frown, worried about her cut.

"Damn."

Wanda and I both turned to the doorway to see my mum, who stopped and took in the sight of the hole in the wall with partial surprise and partial amazement.

"Mum, we need to get her back to the quinjet," I said, pulling her attention away from the wall. She approached me as I said, "She needs medical assistance."

I didn't let go of Wanda's hand as I moved to the side for my mum to take a look. Gently guiding Wanda's chin to the side, she took a closer look at the gash on her forehead, expression showing nothing as usual.

"You'll be okay, honey," she reassured, letting go. Her eyes drifted to our connected hands briefly, but I figured she wouldn't piece anything together, so I didn't let go. She continued, "Let's get out of here. There's no hard drive anyway."

Wanda nodded and my mum and I helped her to stand up, me still not letting go of her hand.

"The hard drive is on him," Wanda spoke suddenly, nodding to the dead HYDRA agent. "I heard his thoughts before I– yeah."

My mum raised her brows with surprise. "Oh. Perfect. Y/N get the drive and let's go."

I pursed my lips, glancing at Wanda with concerned eyes. She gave me a small, reassuring smile, squeezing my hand subtly before letting go.

"Right, yeah," I said, swallowing hard.

I looked back to my mum, who seemed to be studying my expression, so I cleared my throat and left to get the drive. When I retrieved it, I jogged after Wanda and my mum, checking in on her with a small smile, before leading the way to the quinjet.

When we boarded the plane, I hung around Wanda and my mum as she helped the brunette to take a seat in the back. I noticed Wanda's momentary dizziness as she sat down and felt my chest tighten.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, kneeling before her as my mum got the first aid kit.

Wanda gave me an endearing smile as I swiped at the blood dripping down her forehead.

"I'll be alright," she said, holding my gaze with comforting green eyes before they flickered to behind me.

"Okay, Y/N, stop hanging about and start the plane whilst I stitch Wanda up," my mum said, appearing from behind me and kneeling beside me.

I nodded, glancing between the needle, thread and disinfectant in her hands and Wanda's head. Reluctantly, I got up and left them both to it as I started up the plane and got us in the air. Once we were in the clear, I flicked on autopilot before heading back to Wanda and my mum to see how things were going.

"We'll have someone look at it properly when we get back to the tower," my mum was saying to Wanda, who was now stitched up and wearing a small bandage, "but it'll hold up for now." With a playful smile, she added, "You're not dying on me just yet."

Wanda cracked a smile and whilst I appreciated how lovely it was to see their closeness in a way I never usually saw, I was still troubled by her injury. Logically, I knew she'd be okay, but it never felt good to see her injured.

"Plane is on autopilot," I announced, making my presence known. My eyes never left Wanda's bandage as I asked, "Everything okay here?"

"You need to calm down," my mum joked, making me look her way. "It's not that serious. Just some stitches."

I smiled awkwardly, but I knew it was much more than that.

"Yeah, relax, it's not a big deal," Wanda added playfully.

Her eyes met mine and I knew she was communicating the same thing through her gaze, holding a seriousness that wasn't able to be shared verbally because of my mum's presence. I tilted my head, giving her a knowing look; she knew I was aware of how big a deal it was. All I wanted to do was give her a hug and kiss and not leave her side until she felt better. And she knew that.

"I'm gonna go fly the plane," my mum said suddenly, and I almost forgot she was standing there until she spoke up. "We'll get back to base quicker..."

I glanced at her, mildly confused at her sudden change of expression. She headed to the front of the quinjet, leaving Wanda and I alone.

"Seriously though, you should relax," Wanda said, sounding like she did when it was just her and I and nobody else. She had an amused smile on her lips as she watched me worry. "I'm fine. All stitched up."

I licked my lips, sulking, as I dragged myself over to the seat beside her. She laced our fingers together, pressing a kiss to the top of my hand before facing me with an easygoing smile.

"I'm fine," she repeated gently, lovingly, sweetly.

I offered her a small smile, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her bandage. "I know. Just don't worry me like that. Especially in front of my mum. I can't take it."

"It's cute," she noted, amusement returning. "It means a lot to know someone cares."

My shoulders relaxed. "I care too much. So, please don't test that."

She laughed and I felt my heart flutter in my chest, never getting used to the sound.

"I promise not to," she said, looking up at me through her lashes.

I leaned my head on her shoulder and kept ahold of her hand, staying with her until we arrived back at base. My mum flew us the whole way back, only coming to get us once we landed. I knew I should have left Wanda's side as to not raise suspicion with my mum, but I couldn't find it in myself to do so. I just hoped she would interpret it as two concerned friends rather than her daughter having a secret girlfriend.

"You should head to the medical wing to get checked out properly," my mum said once we were back at the tower, looking to Wanda.

"Yeah," I agreed a little too eagerly. "I'll go with you."

My mum gave me a curious look. "I mean, that's not necessary."

Wanda must have sensed my eagerness, as she said, "I'd appreciate the company, actually. I don't mind."

She shot me a subtle smile, eyes bright with reassurance.

"I'm happy to accompany you, Wanda," my mum offered, and I felt my mouth go dry.

"It's okay, mum," I said suddenly, making her look to me with pursed lips. "You can go debrief and I'll make sure Wanda is cool with everything."

Glancing between us, my mum finally nodded. "I see. I guess I'll see you both later then." She paused, looking between us once more, before adding, "You did good today. Both of you."

I looked down to my shoes as Wanda shot her a grateful smile. She walked away, leaving us be, and I immediately intertwined my fingers with Wanda's as the two of us headed to the medical wing.

"You may as well write desperate on your forehead," she teased with a beautiful smile.

"So funny," I said sarcastically, though a smile of my own was present. "Let's just get you checked out."

"If it means you'll stop pouting, then sure."

"Real jokester you are. Hilarious, honestly."

Her laughter surrounded me like a warm hug and I could have listened to it forever.

—

Since our mission together, I noticed the distance my mum was putting between her and I, and I had no idea why. I thought I was overthinking it and seeing things that weren't there, so I didn't follow up with it until one evening.

It was a rare occurrence for all of the Avengers to be at the tower at once, so when they were, we'd all have a 'family' dinner for some normalcy. Only, this time, I noticed how strange my mum was acting whenever I spoke to her. She'd either act super dismissive or give one word answers to my questions – once again, I wasn't sure if I was seeing things.

After dinner, everyone went their separate ways and Wanda and I stayed in the living-area to watch some TV. Though it was playing, the volume was lowered and neither of us were watching it. We were just talking about random stuff and enjoying each other's company.

"Okay, how about this one?" I said to Wanda, turning so I was facing her, a grin on my lips. "What did the clock do when it was hungry?"

As with all of my other attempts at making Wanda laugh, she stared at me with an amused smile and a quirked brow.

"Say it...," I encouraged, motioning for her to speak with my hand.

She sighed. "Okay, what did the clock do when it was hungry?" Mumbling, she added, "Even though clocks don't eat..."

I slapped her leg playfully. "Sshhh, you'll ruin the joke. And the answer is, they go back four seconds!"

Wanda didn't laugh, but she seemed entertained as she hid a smile. "Seriously?"

"Because of the number 'four' and the word 'for'," I explained. "C'mon, that's a good one!"

"D'you think you're funny?" she asked, eyeing me playfully. "Because you're not."

I shrugged, playing it off like I wasn't fussed. "I mean, I don't know about that... how about now?"

Before she could question me, I moved forward and began to tickle her sides, watching as she squirmed with laughter.

"Stop it!" she shouted, but her smile was as wide as ever as she was unable to stifle her laughter. "P-please! Y/N!"

"But you said I wasn't funny!" I retorted with a grin, practically straddling her as she attempted to push me off her. "I'm just checking if you still think that!"

Wanda was crying now, tears escaping the corners of her eyes as she continued to laugh. "I'm s-sorry! Y/N, stop!"

Before I could think how to respond, the doors to the living-area opened and in walked Steve Rogers AKA Captain America, a confused expression on his face as he saw me sat on Wanda.

"Hey, ladies," he greeted, raising an eyebrow. "You both good?"

I pulled my hands away from Wanda and breathed out, still smiling as I glanced down at her. She blew a strand of hair from her eyes and glared at me playfully.

"Yeah, just talking," I answered Steve, before being thrown off Wanda and to the floor with a thud.

"Just Y/N harassing me as usual," Wanda corrected, and I sat up to see her sitting up, too, fixing her hair.

Steve chuckled as he headed to the fridge in the connected kitchen. Wanda helped me back onto the couch, nudging me in the side as a response to the tickle fest, before leaning on me and stretching her legs across the couch.

"So, hey, what's up with you and your mum?" Steve asked as I continued to annoy Wanda by flicking her face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not looking up as I grinned down at Wanda, watching as her eyes glowed red threateningly.

"Don't make me hurt you," she said teasingly, lifting a hand and summoning her powers, red wisps of energy becoming present.

I stopped flicking her and intertwined her hand in mine, watching as her eyes faded to its usual colour.

"She just seemed distant at dinner," Steve continued.

I looked up and saw he was leaning against the counter with a water bottle in his hand. Wanda continued to stretch, practically on top of me, probably to annoy me as I had been doing with her. I moved her hands out of my face as I nodded to Steve.

"So, you saw it too? She was being off, right?" I asked him, glad I wasn't just imagining things.

He nodded, gulping his water, before saying casually, "Definitely. What did you do? Finally tell her about you and Wanda?"

It took me a second to realise what he'd said, but when I did, my eyes widened and I spluttered out a terrible response. "What– what about Wanda and I?"

I glanced at Wanda as she began to sit up properly. She looked more confused than panicked.

"You know, that you're together," Steve said like it was obvious.

I cleared my throat. "What? Why would you think that?"

Steve smiled with confusion. "Wait, so you're not? But I thought–" He paused, pulling a face. "No, you are! Everybody thinks you are!"

I shrugged it off, though inside I was panicking. "I mean, even if that was the case, why do you think my mum knows?"

Steve nodded knowingly. "She's been off with you all night. And then I caught up with her after dinner and she wasn't in a very talkative mood. Just mumbled something like 'new girl, her age, pretty, nice, should have seen it coming'. I assumed she was talking about Wanda."

Heat crept up my neck with embarrassment and when I looked to Wanda, I saw her cheeks dusting a red colour, similar to the energy she could summon. She looked as flustered as I felt.

"Has your mum been okay with you before today?" Steve asked, trying to be helpful.

I chewed on my lower lip and shook my head. "Not since we got back from our last mission..."

Steve scrunched his face with sympathy. "Oof. You should probably talk to her then. You know how much she hates secrets."

I groaned internally. "Thanks for the reminder."

He saluted playfully, his stupid smile on his stupid face, before leaving Wanda and I alone again.

"Well, looks like she knows," I said to Wanda, sinking into the couch with hopes it would swallow me forever.

"She might not," Wanda tried to make me feel better, resting a hand on my leg. "It could be something else."

I gave her a knowing look. "She has to know. It's the only thing that makes sense. You heard Steve."

Wanda sighed, sinking into the couch beside me. "Yeah..." She glanced at me and I looked at her as she said, "I did tell you to tell her."

I forced a smile. "Gee, Wanda, that was helpful. Thanks."

Wanda rolled her eyes before leaning her head on my shoulder. "Sorry..."

I rested my hand on hers. "It's okay, sorry. I just– she's gonna be really mad that I kept this from her."

"Yeah, why did you do that again?" Wanda asked questioningly.

I massaged the tension between my eyebrows. "Because she's too overprotective. It gets too much to handle sometimes... Take my last boyfriend for example. He was some tool that cheated on me and, oh boy, my mum wanted to kill him. I had to physically restrain her from doing so."

"I don't blame her," Wanda quipped, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

I smiled a little, squeezing her hand. "I know... she ended up slashing his tyres and egging his car without telling me. But instead of egging the outside, she broke into it and egged the inside. A thoughtful take on a classic, I must admit."

Wanda laughed, her whole body shaking with pure amusement as she listened to the story. I couldn't help but smile myself, remembering it like it was yesterday. Definitely a fun time.

"I appreciated it, don't get me wrong," I added, smile fading. "I just didn't want that to happen again. I wanted to enjoy our relationship without anyone spying on us, y'know? But now she's gonna be super angry."

Wanda let go of my hand and rolled on top of me, leaning down on my chest so she could look me in the eyes. I wrapped my arms loosely around her to keep her steady.

"She only wants the best for you," Wanda told me gently. "You have to tell her you're sorry. Explain why you did what you did, but hear her out, too. She's your mum. Caring too much isn't a bad thing."

I groaned, knowing she was right. She smiled reassuringly, patting my chest.

"You get the caring too much thing from her by the way," she added, before leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to my lips. "It's okay though because I love it."

I smiled, never really seeing it like that. Raising my hand, I brushed my thumb over the small bandage on her head; her injury was still healing, but she didn't let it bother her. Very Wanda-like.

"Thanks," I mumbled, meeting her gaze. "You always say the right thing."

"Which is why I'm going to tell you to get up and go to your mum," she ordered playfully, pushing herself off me and holding out her hand.

I let her pull me up before straightening up and taking a deep breath. Wanda was right. I just needed to be open and explain my piece. It would be fine.

—

So, it wasn't fine.

When I entered my mum's living quarters, she wasn't the happiest to see me. In fact, she actively turned her body to face her TV when I came through the door.

"Hey," I started with a small smile, fighting the nerves in my stomach. "Can we, er, can we talk?"

She grabbed the cushion on the couch next to her, hugging it to her chest. Her eyes didn't leave the TV, but the space next to her was free, so I took that as an opportunity to close the door and sit beside her.

The news was playing on the TV – headlines, I think – and they were talking about a new elected congressman in New York.

"Seriously? The news? Even in your free time?" I asked playfully, hoping it would lighten the mood.

She didn't even glance my way as she muttered, "I like to know what's happening in the world."

Losing my smile, I straightened up and cleared my throat. "Right, right..."

It went quiet as the TV played in the background and my mum said absolutely nothing. I grabbed the other cushion on the couch and hugged it to my chest, similar to her. It was a nervous habit that I picked up from, well, from her.

"You said you wanted to talk?" she reminded me. "So, talk."

Having the Black Widow as your mother wasn't something anyone could get used to. She could be the most caring, loving, protective person in the world, but she could also appear quiet, intimidating and ruthless like the trained assassin she was. Not the greatest combination when trying to open up to her.

"I think I know what you're thinking," I started, pinching my hand to distract from my growing anxiety.

Without hesitation, she bent forward to grab the TV remote and turned it off before turning to me with sad eyes.

"That's where you're wrong," she said calmly, and it was way worse than her yelling. I would have preferred her yelling to be honest. The disappointment in her voice was much worse. "You always assume you know what I'm thinking. What I'm going to say or do."

I avoided her eyes guiltily. "Mum, look, I know that I should have told you the truth. And I know how angry you are, but–"

"I'm not angry, Y/N!" she shouted, finally, standing up off the couch and creating space between us.

I winced. "You sound angry."

She put her hands on her hips, looking down to her feet and taking a breath. Her voice at normal volume, she said, "I'm upset. You– you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth. Instead, I had to put it together when you acted how you did with Wanda after that mission and..." She paused, sighing. "Forget it."

"No, keep going," I pleaded, the guilt piercing through me sharply. "You're right."

She swallowed hard, glancing at me with glassy eyes. "I wouldn't have done anything. I know I have in the past, but this is Wanda we're talking about. I've been her mentor for a year. I care about her and– and– she's good. And she's good for you."

Okay, I definitely misread this whole thing because now my mum was upset, on the verge of tears, and I was the arsehole responsible for it.

"I'm so sorry," I said, standing up and moving forward to hold her arms. "I should have trusted you. I mean, it wasn't even about trust. I was just scared you'd react badly. But it wrong of me to assume that."

She frowned, looking down to her shoes. "I know I can be tough sometimes, but it's only because I care."

I thought back to Wanda's words and gave her a small smile. "I know. I get it from you."

"I am happy for you, you know," she said, glancing at me petulantly.

My expression softened. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

Without another word, she pulled me in for a motherly hug, making me close my eyes and relax in her arms. I still felt horrible for making her feel like I couldn't trust her when it was anything but that.

"I'm sorry," I repeated quietly into her shoulder.

"I forgive you," she said, before pulling away and giving me a small smile. "Now tell me. You're happy?"

The thought of being with Wanda gave me butterflies and I couldn't help but smile in response. With a nod, I said, "I am."

She nodded, squeezing my shoulders gently before fully letting go. "Good. I'm glad you've got her... I know you can take care of yourself, but she's strong, too. She can look out for you when I'm not around anymore."

I shoved her in the shoulder. "Don't joke about that. She isn't replacing you and you're not going anywhere, you hear me?"

She laughed, nodding. "Not yet anyway. But sure, okay."

I relaxed and gave her a nervous smile. "So, you wanna meet Wanda? Like, as my girlfriend and not your student?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "If I must."

I smiled widely, grabbing her hand and leading her to the door. "She loves you a lot, y'know. She wanted me to tell you about us as soon as we got together. She hated lying to you."

"Yeah because she knows that lying is wrong," she teased me, making me groan loudly. With a chuckle, she added, "I love her, too. She's definitely something."

"Hell yeah she is," I said in agreement, grinning to my mum as I dragged her to the living-area where I last left Wanda.

On the way, we passed Steve in the hall, who took notice of the smiles on our faces and nodded knowingly.

"Glad to see you worked it out," he said supportively.

"Thanks for the heads up," I told him gratefully as we passed him.

When we reached the living-area, I saw Wanda sat on the couch watching TV. When she saw who entered, she straightened up instantly, moving to stand and unsure what else to say or do. It was cute, the respect she had for my mum.

"Did you– I– She told you?" she stumbled over her words, starting to speak to me but eventually looking to my mum.

My mum glanced at me before meeting Wanda's nervous eyes. "She did."

Wanda licked her lips anxiously. "And you're okay with it...? Angry...? Wanna kill me...?"

I watched my mum, nodding encouragingly to her. She sighed before giving Wanda a small smile.

"No killing will be necessary," she reassured my girlfriend. "Unless, of course, you break my daughter's heart. Then in which case, I may have to find you when you're sleeping."

"Mum!" I complained, face falling into my hands with embarrassment.

"I'm just being truthful," my mum said with seriousness, before looking to Wanda expectantly.

Wanda surprisingly took it well, probably used to my mum's personality after training with her for a year. "I understand completely, Nat and I'll hold you to that. I have no intention of breaking Y/N's heart."

A rare, genuine smile appeared on my mother's lips. "I know you don't. Just–" She paused, glancing at me. "Keep her safe, yeah? She's a bit stupid sometimes."

Wanda laughed as my mum smiled with amusement, like it was an inside joke.

"Right here, you know," I reminded them with a wave of my hand.

They only rolled their eyes.

"I will," Wanda promised my mum. "Thank you for being okay with this."

My mum nodded, giving us both a final smile and once over, before saying, "I'll leave you to it. Goodnight."

Wanda and I bid our goodnights, watching her leave before a giant sigh of relief escaped our lips.

"You feel better?" Wanda asked me, grabbing my hand and tugging me to the couch.

She let me fall on her chest easily, snuggling up to her as she wrapped an arm around me and held me close. I inhaled her perfume, a familiar and comforting scent, as my head rested in the crook of her neck.

"I feel better," I answered, closing my eyes and letting her intertwine our fingers.

"I believe this is the part where you say I was right," she prompted, a hint of amusement in her words.

"Don't make me hurt you," I mumbled, making her laugh quietly beneath me.

"You're lucky I love you," she said, kissing the top of my head. "I guess opposites do attract. You're the stupid one and I'm the clever one."

"Wanda?"

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

She laughed again, and even though it was at me, I couldn't help the content smile from spreading on my lips.

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #marvel #mcu #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen

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tamago-tamago · 4 years ago

Text

little acts of love

what are some little things that the genshin boys would do to show that they love you? sometimes, there are acts of affection that aren't so obvious to the human eye alone.

characters: diluc, kaeya, xiao, albedo

genre: fluff, gender neutral

a/n: hey, hey, this is my first genshin headcanon, please let me know your thoughts:)

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Diluc ❣

he would pat your head

whether he's simply passing by or watching you work hard on whatever task you have at hand, he always feels inclined to give you a pat on the head

it's nothing extravagant, really

but, he finds that it delivers a sense of reassurance and the pride that swells in his heart when he sees you — feelings that he normally finds difficult to convey through words

as he's quite a tall person, i think it also comes naturally to him

he wants to protect you, and the way you always lean into his touch reminds him that you understand that

it's almost become a thing between you two, whenever you'd run up to see him, he'd greet you with a smile and a small pat on the head

whenever he holds you, he feels like he has the whole world in his hands (which he firmly believes he actually does)

and you, you love the warmth of his touch

he would leave small gifts

diluc may constantly be absorbed in his work, but there's almost never a moment where you leave his thoughts

he'd be walking down the streets or around the winery and suddenly think, "ah! they would surely love this" or "huh, this reminds me of that one time they stupidly tripped down a hill"

and he would promptly be reminded about the million reasons why he loves you

up until today, there's hardly been a time where he came home without something in hand

sometimes it's a small flower that he thought would match your outfit today, sometimes he goes out of his way to buy you some materials that he knows you've been needing recently

whatever it is, the effort that goes into getting you these gifts is always worth it if he gets to see the bright smile on your face

Kaeya ❣

he would keep an arm around you

oftentimes it's around your shoulder, sometimes it's around your waist

wherever you go, kaeya loves to keep you close to him

maybe it's because there's a deep-rooted fear that you may disappear if he doesn't cherish you enough, yes, that point still stands

but! more than that, it's simply because he loves being near you

he can't get enough of your beauty, your lovely voice and cute smile — he's absolutely drunk on you

he would openly admit that he also likes showing you off too

he wants to make sure that everyone knows just how great of a person you are, so that they could shower you in the praise that you deserve

this man would never leave your side unless he has to

he would let his guard down

everyone knows kaeya for his smug personality, there's almost never a moment where he's not acting haughty

but there are times where even he gets tired of keeping that act

and those times are when he's with you

of course, he still pulls out a joke and teases you from time to time (he can't help it, it's practically in his blood), but he's also a lot calmer and relaxed when you're together

or should i say, he becomes soft

he doesn't feel the responsibility of being the cavalry captain or the pressure of being, well, kaeya

at least the kaeya that the rest of mondstadt thinks he is

he knows he's popular and that some people have mixed feelings about him, but he has complete trust into you, knowing that you love him for who he actually is — both the personality he projects, and the quieter one he keeps hidden

Xiao ❣

he would watch you as you leave

xiao's primary job is to protect liyue, so this makes sense

you are just as important (if not, more) to him, so he would do anything in his power to keep you safe

but of course, there is an extent to his doting, he understands your individuality and knows you're very capable of taking care of yourself

though that doesn't stop him from sitting on the roof of wangshu inn and watching your figure retreat into the distance

he'd sit there and watch you until you were out of his sight

this means even if you stop to talk with other travellers or merchants along the way, or if you get off track because you've spotted the resources you've been needing recently

xiao's a patient man, and not a single ounce of him would complain about that; all that matters is that you're safe

he also finds it cute when you spot a familiar face and get all happy, though he can't understand how you could possibly be excited about meeting someone

he would kiss you when you're asleep

or maybe... you weren't actually asleep but he thought you were asleep !?!?

speculations aside, i think this is the vulnerable side he would only show in private

we all know he doesn't really care for relationships or as he calls it "mutual understanding", so falling in love was already something really big for him

but seeing you asleep, sometimes on his lap, or against his chest, or next to him in bed, he can't stop the urge to plant a soft kiss on your forehead

he literally cannot stop it; the warm buzz in his chest and the way his heart warms as he kisses you

only being near you quells those feelings

sometimes you stir in your sleep because of him, so he'd spend the next while gently stroking your head to lull you back to sleep

Albedo ❣

he would trust you

okay look, that might not sound like much, but to an alchemist who's always making sure that everything is precise and accurate, it's difficult to find someone that he doesn't have to be wary of while conducting experiments

add on that internal battle he's constantly having with himself, it's relieving to finally have someone that he can be himself around; he doesn't have to keep his guard up

whenever you enter the lab, he doesn't have to pause his current experiment to accommodate to your presence

usually, he'd have to stop, so that he could focus and discuss matters with whoever came in without interruptions

however, you both have this mutual agreement that if you came in while he was working, he didn't have to worry about diverting his attention — he could finish it and as soon as he does, he would give you all the attention in the world

he appreciates that you genuinely listen to his speculations about life as most people tend to brush off his rambling and nonsense

he would constantly draw you

as an artist, albedo knows the importance of occasional practice and warm-ups to ensure his skills don't get rusty

so why not practice on you?

to him, you were the perfect model, he was fascinated by every single detail of your body and he thought you always moved with elegance

he doesn't think he would ever get bored of drawing the same thing over and over again, because he learns something new about you every single day

and most of the time, you aren't even aware that he's sketching you

he'd quietly sit at a distance and watch as you carry on with your own work

by the time you're done, his page would be full of small sketches

if you nudge him, he might give in and show you those drawings, but oftentimes, he keeps them to himself

he's sure you already know how beautiful you are, and if not, then boy oh boy is he whipping out the sketchbook

#genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #diluc #kaeya #albedo #xiao #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff

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expectingtofly · 3 years ago

Text

Painted Nails and Pride

1.7k

internalized homophobia, john being an a**hole, bisexual dean, found family, happy ending

written for day 7 of @spnprideweek

Music boomed from the park down the street and Dean tried to focus on the newspapers spread out before him, front pages covered with news about a bear attack at a campsite a few miles west. Not actually a bear attack, of course. From the tracks they’d seen when they hiked out there yesterday, Dad's money was on wendigo.

Cheering drew his eyes from the table where he, Sam, and Dad sat outside a restaurant to the people heading down the sidewalk towards the music. Banners on streetlights along the road proclaimed that today marked Roseville's 3rd Annual Pride Parade. His eyes snagged on a group of kids his own age standing on the street corner, hugging and talking excitedly. One boy had painted nails and wore a cropped shirt that exposed his midriff. As he talked with his friends, he looked around, and his eyes met Dean’s. He smiled at him, and Dean ducked his head, face burning.

An announcer’s voice echoed down the street. “Welcome to Pride,” the voice boomed. Dean folded and unfolded the corner of the newspaper, listening to the cheering, rotating the ring on his thumb around and around.

Dad snorted, and Dean glanced up at him. Arms crossed, leaning back in his chair, he watched the proceedings with a scowl on his face. Dean studied the newspapers more intently, underlining words just to look like he was doing something productive. Part of him wanted to go down to the parade, just to see what it was all about, but that was ridiculous. Only affirmed by a derogatory comment Dad made low under his breath about the people in the street.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed verbally, jostling his leg under the table. He glanced sideways at Sam, who was giving Dad a glare. Dean gave him a look that meant, don’t start, but Sam ignored him.

“Don’t say that,” he said, and Dean froze, eyes snapping to their father. Dad pulled his eyes from the street to Sam, giving him a long, steady look.

“What?” he asked after a long moment. “You one of them?”

Sam only held his gaze for a second before it seemed his courage failed. He ducked his head. “No,” he mumbled, kicking at the table leg.

Dad stared at him for another long moment, expressionless, before turning his journal around and dropping it in front of Sam. “Shut up and make yourself useful. Sooner we figure out what’s killing these folks, sooner we can get out of this goddamn town.”

He waved down the waitress for another drink, and Dean glared at Sam, who was absently thumbed through the journal pages. Returning to his own work, he snapped one newspaper closed and opened another, skimmed an article about the victim’s family. The words didn’t really make sense in his head, though, and too soon he found himself watching the people in the street again. The boy who’d smiled at him had disappeared, though, probably watching the parade.

Finding a one-off line in an article about rumors of a strange being haunting the woods, he circled it and handed the newspaper across the table.

“Nice work,” Dad said, taking the paper, but instead of the usual warmth from his praise, Dean only felt sick.

He felt about the same now, standing in Jody’s kitchen—off to the side so he wouldn’t be in the way during the frenzied preparations to attend the Sioux Falls Pride Parade. Music played from Patience’s phone, some song he recognized from Cas constantly turning the radio dial to the pop music station. Sam helped Kaia finish a sign decorated with the lesbian flag, and Eileen signed with Alex who was learning sign language in high school. Claire sat at the table painting Jack’s nails, who wriggled in his seat excitedly.

Catching Dean’s eyes, he held up the hand Claire had finished. “Dean, look!”

Dean forced a smile. “Looks good.”

“Stay still,” Claire ordered, frowning down at Jack’s hand as she painted his pinky.

This was a bad idea, Dean thought. Jody had invited them for the week, mentioning off-hand that Sioux Fall’s pride events were going on, and Dean had pushed aside the mild panic at that comment, told her they’d come visit. He didn’t know he’d be roped into joining everyone at Pride, but here he was, feeling out of place in the corner of the kitchen. Who knew how he’d feel standing at the parade.

“Want me to do yours?” Claire asked, and Dean snapped his attention back to her. She was holding a bottle of nail polish, others lined up next to her on the table, and he froze, realizing what she was suggesting.

His first instinct was to spit out, “I’m not one of those,” but guilt rushed through him for how harsh the words sounded in his head. Defensive words, unnecessary ones because there was no threat here. He didn't mean them anyway.

Swallowing them down, he glanced around the kitchen for rescue. Cas was helping Donna pack water bottles because “It’s gonna be hot out there,” but he must’ve felt Dean’s gaze because he looked over and gave him a reassuring smile. No judgement in his eyes, or Claire's either, for that matter. He had a feeling he wouldn't find any judgement in this kitchen, which should've been a relief, but he had a hard time trusting it.

“Come on, Dean,” Jack said. “We can match!”

You can do this, Dean told himself. It's just Pride, not an Apocalypse.

He tried to smile. “Sure,” he said, going to the table and sitting down, chest tight.

He chose the color blue because it felt less ostentatious than the pinks and lilacs Claire presented to him. Even so, the color looked strikingly bright in the sunlight as he stood along the street marked off for the parade, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Hey,” Cas said, touching his shoulder. Dean tensed, then felt awful for his reaction, but Cas didn’t move away, only rubbed between his shoulder blades until Dean relaxed marginally. “You okay?”

Dean nodded. “Fine,” he managed. Cas gave him a small smile and leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder.

A float passed with people waving and dancing on top, a banner strung across the front declaring, “Protect Trans Kids.” Jack waved a rainbow flag around, cheering along with the crowd. Claire’s arm was wrapped around Kaia’s shoulders, a smile tugging at her mouth despite her attempts to look unbothered by the proceedings. Dean wished he could feel that nonchalant. Instead, he kept looking over his shoulder. He didn’t know exactly what threat he was looking for, but the press of the growing crowds and the heat and noise, the bright colors and waving flags everywhere he looked was making him nauseous.

Turning back to the parade, he met Sam’s eyes. “Never thought we’d both end up here, right?” Sam asked over the noise, attempting levity, and Dean wondered if he remembered sitting outside near a Pride parade, feeling so unsure. There were plenty of other instances to remember, plenty of times John made disparaging comments that Dean either pretended to not hear or agreed with out of a panic that if he wasn’t careful, they might be directed at him next.

“This is fun,” Sam commented, watching the parade, and Dean wished he could agree.

Easy for you to say, he thought. You have a girlfriend, people’ll assume you’re straight. But he felt bad for thinking it. He didn’t want Cas to move away from him—if anything, wanted him closer, wanted his arm around him. But he felt too tense to move.

A crowd of middle-aged people walked in the parade, t-shirts reading variations of MOM HUGS, DAD HUGS, GRANDPA HUGS. Dean watched as people stepped off the sidewalk and hugged the moms and dads, some crying as soon as arms wrapped around them.

Without his permission, he felt his own eyes growing teary and he ducked his head, scraped his heel on the sidewalk.

“Dammit,” Jody said. “Where can I get one of those t-shirts?”

“We gotta do that next year,” Donna decided, and Jack gave her a hug.

“You can hand out hugs without the t-shirt,” he told her, and she grinned.

“You’re right.” Lifting her arms, she announced, “Free hugs over here!” People around them laughed, and someone took her up on the offer, telling her, “You’ve got a lovely family.”

Donna beamed. “Why yes I do.” She pulled Claire into a half-hug that Claire resisted, protesting the whole time. “Come here, Sam,” she said, yanking Sam into a hug that he had to nearly fold himself in half for. Everyone else got their turn, then she turned to Dean, holding out her arms.

Dean stepped into it, wrapping his arms around her. A gentler hug, Donna rubbing his back. Dean sunk into the embrace, the chaos around him subsiding for a moment.

“We’re family now, right?” she asked, pulling away to meet his eyes, and Dean nodded. Smiling at him and patting his arm, she turned back to Jody, wrapping an arm around her.

It felt a little easier to breathe now, his chest not so tight. The crowds around them didn’t seem so threatening, just smiling people with their families like he was with his. Eileen cheered as a float passed with an Irish LGBTQ+ coalition, and Dean smiled, easier now, not forced.

Jody pulled Donna in for a kiss that turned into making out. Claire rolled her eyes. “Ew, guys, Gross.” Kaia elbowed her and Claire’s put-on air of displeasure broke into a grin as she elbowed her back. Cas nudged Dean with a small smile when a float of pink, purple, and blue streamers drove past. For a moment, Dean's chest seized, John's voice ringing in his head, but in all the noise around them, it quickly drowned out.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, he took Cas’ hand. Cas interlaced their fingers immediately, squeezing tightly, then lifted their hands and studied Dean’s nails. Dean had let Jack paint a smiley face on his pinky to match the one on Jack’s thumbs. Staring at them, he thought of a boy at Pride with painted nails, his own fears and wants tightening his chest, but then Cas looked up at him with a smile, and the memory faded into a warm glow.

“I like them,” Cas told him.

“Yeah," Dean said. "Me too.”

#spnprideweek #bluefirecas #seraphcastiel #rambleoncas #userstarry #userpris #destiel fic #pride #internalized homophobia #john's a+ parenting #established dean/cas #bisexual dean winchester #inspired by my first time at pride #:)#expectingtofly writes

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birdiefw · 4 years ago

Text

LET ME SHOW YOU | SAM WINCHESTER [SMUT 18+]

Summary: Having been turned on all day, you decide you can’t wait any longer and lead somewhere more private.

Warnings: swearing, teasing, oral (female receiving), impala sex (unprotected but y’all can pretend otherwise)

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written an imagine, and technically this one is meant for my Sam Winchester fic on Wattpad so it wasn’t intended to be an imagine, but I figured it could work as one so here it is lmao. Also, destiel is pretty much implied in this, but you’re free to see Dean and Cas however you want. I also edited this, but I apologize for any errors or if it says her/she/birdie (who is my spn oc) instead of you/your/etc!

You felt like your entire body had been set on fire without warning. Your skin was incredibly warm as you tried to remain still, feeling like your body was getting hotter and hotter despite how cold it actually was inside the bunker. Your hair was pushed back so it would stop clinging to your neck/sides of your face, your mind unable to focus on your laptop that was placed in front of you as something else was taking over all of your senses.

You were very aware of the fact that you weren’t alone in the library, twisting and pursing your lips together as you tried to ignore the rampant thoughts that kept popping into your mind every time your gaze flickered over to Sam. But, every time your eyes fell on your husband, you couldn’t help but admire his stunning features, picturing all of the sides you’d seen of him in your many years of being a couple—some of which only made the ache between your legs increase.

You bit her lip when you looked away from him again, trying to force the thoughts aside; you desperately hoped you’d be alone soon.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up from your laptop that had started dim from your lack of actually doing anything on it in the last few minutes, eyes slightly widened as you looked across at Castiel who was sat in front of you, his bright blue eyes pinned to your features.

“What?” you asked, glancing aside at Sam and Dean who were both staring at you with confusion much like Castiel.

“We were askin’ if you found anything,” Dean said, noticing how your laptop had dimmed.

“Oh, uh, I—no. Not yet, anyways,” you answered with a heavy sigh, briefly glancing towards Sam before your eyes swiveled to Dean and then Castiel.

“Are you feeling okay?” Castiel wondered, curiously tilting his head at you. “You don’t look like you’re feeling well.”

“Thanks, Cas,” you sarcastically said, giving him a fake smile as you folded your arms over your chest and crossed your legs. “I can always count on you for a pick me up, can’t I?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, a faint frown appearing on his lips.

Sam’s lips turned into a frown, noting that you did look rather pale compared to usual. You looked slightly sweaty, eyes looking more dark than normal. You easily noticed the change in Sam’s expression, quickly shaking your head as you closed your laptop; there was no point in keeping it open, anyways. “I’m fine,” you firmly told him, giving him a look when you saw him shoot you a similar look.

“You sure?” Dean asked, curiously eyeing you from the seat next to you.

“Yes, I’m sure, Dean,” you said, flashing a perky smile on your lips as if it would assure the three men.

Dean shook his head with a small smile appearing on his lips, closing his own laptop. He could tell something was off with you, but knowing Sam wouldn’t let it go, he decided against pushing the subject. “Alright, whatever you say, Y/N,” he said. Then his eyes flickered over to Castiel, nudging his head to the side as he started to stand up from the table. “Come on, you still gotta finish watchin’ Seven.”

Castiel warmly smiled, looking at Sam and you as he stood up from the chair. “Night, guys.”

“Night, Cas,” you and Sam said in unison, smiling back at the angel.

Dean tucked his laptop under his arm, silently nodding towards his brother and you as he waited for Castiel. You and Sam quietly watched them walk away, a grin lingering on your lips until they were gone.

You let out a heavily sigh and leaned your head back, puffing out your cheeks. Sam stood up from his own chair and headed over to you, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. You jumped at the sudden touch, looking at him with wide eyes. “Fuck,” you whispered, letting out a breath of relief as you realized it was only Sam, “You almost sent me into cardiac arrest.”

Sam softly laughed, innocently raising his hands as he sat on the table, peering down at you. You shook her head as you stood up, adjusting Sam’s flannel that you wore over a pair of leggings, pushing the sleeves up to your elbows. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, babe?” he asked, genuine concern etched on his features as you stood in front of him. “You’re pretty warm.”

You let out a sigh, glancing around to make sure Dean nor Castiel were around at the moment. “I-I’m not sick, I promise,” you said, looking at your husband. “I’m just. . .”

Sam softly gazed at you when she lowered you head, warmly smiling as he lifted his hand to you chin to make you look at him again. “Just what?”

You coyly smiled, a thought suddenly occurring to you. “Let me show you.”

The corners of Sam’s lips tweaked up into a smirk, finally noticing the look that was swirling around in your eyes. ‘I should’ve known,’ he thought to himself, already feeling himself start to grow hot with anticipation. You eagerly took his larger hand in yours, tugging him in the opposite direction of their shared bedroom.

You giddily giggled as you hurried down the narrow halls of the bunker, tugging Sam towards the garage with a devilish smirk appearing on your lips, stealing a glance behind you to make sure that Dean nor Castiel hadn’t left the room for some reason. “You don’t think they have plans to actually go anywhere tonight after their movie, do you?” You asked Sam, carefully walking with your back facing the spacious garage while your intense gaze was pinned to Sam as your warm hand still clutched his in your own.

“God I fuckin’ hope not,” Sam breathlessly replied, eyes lighting up with a rush of excitement as you guided him over to the Impala.

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as the two of you came up to the side of the Impala, standing beside one of the back doors as you fully faced Sam, body even warmer than before.

“Well, even if they do. . .” You softly said, trailing one of your hands up one of Sam’s buff arms, fingertips trailing up until they reached his stubbly jaw. Your eyes flickered to his, seeing his usually bright eyes had darkened a few shades as they took in your features. Your smirk instantly widened, peering up at Sam. “They’ll just have to wait.”

“Is that so?” Sam asked in a low tone, taking a few steps closer so you were pressed up against the Impala, your chests almost pressed together as he stood in front of you with his hands softly caressing your hips. “Well, how much longer are you gonna make me wait?”

“I don’t know yet,” you teased, running a few of your fingers along his bottom lip. “You were teasing me all day pretty much with your soft hair, your kissable lips. . .”

Sam darkly chuckled, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes as your words made his excitement increase. “Then let me make it up to you.”

You leaned forward in response, Sam quickly bending his head down to connect you lips when she moved towards him. One of your hands automatically went to his shaggy hair, gently tugging on it to elicit a low groan from Sam. You smiled with approval, feeling one of his hands go to your lower back and press your body up against his while the other went to the back of your head, fingers combing through your hair. Your soft lips parted as the kiss became more needy, giving Sam access to explore your mouth like his life depended on it.

Sam’s hand moved from your back and to the handle off to the side, quickly finding it and pulling it open with a grunt. “After you,” Sam panted.

You excitedly grinned and crawled into the backseat, seeing Sam steal a glance around the garage to make sure no one was around before climbing inside as well and closing the door behind him. You eagerly leaned forward, connecting your lips once more as your fingers started to undo the buttons of the flannel Sam wore. Sam grinned into the kiss, assisting you with removing the shirt before carelessly tossing it to the side. Then he broke apart from the kiss, discarding the plain gray shirt he’d been wearing underneath as you started to undo the buttons of the flannel you had on.

Sam reconnected your lips just as she finished unbuttoning it. You giggled, going to shrug it off until one of Sam’s hands stopped you. “Seeing you in my clothes drives me absolutely crazy. . .I wanna see you come undone with it on.”

You let out a shaky breath at his words, lowering your hands. You bit her lip and cupped his cheeks in your clammy hands, firmly kissing him. “I love you,” you told him.

Sam grinned, giving you a quick peck in return. “I love you too,” he murmured, one hand trailing down your sides, stopping along the side of your thigh as his other hand guided you to scoot back more and lay against the back of the leather seat. “And, I wanna show you. . .just how. . .much,” he gruffly said, pecking your cheek, nose, and chin as he spoke.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you sucked in a deep breath, feeling Sam kiss along your neck. “God. . .” You whispered, involuntarily bucking your hips up as one hand gripped his hair again.

“Someone’s eager,” Sam murmured against your hot skin, his hand still caressing her thigh, setting her entire body on fire even more with just a simple touch.

“Please, Sam,” you whimpered, catching his gaze.

Sam slowly moved down your body, reaching for the hem of your leggings. “Wearing a skirt today woulda made this a lot easier,” he said, causing a laugh to erupt from you as he started to tug down your skin tight leggings. You lifted your hips, helping him to discard both your leggings and panties as quick as possible. “But, they don’t show off your ass as well as these do.”

You bit her lip at his words, your heart starting to beat even faster as Sam settled himself between your legs. The corner of his lips were pulled up into a smirk, easing your legs apart with one leg settling over his shoulder and the other over the seat with your foot planted on the ground. Sam’s gaze remained locked on yours as he scooted closer, blowing on you gently. Your head instantly fell back, a gasp escaping your lips.

“I really was turnin’ you on without even touching you, huh,” Sam said, one hand caressing your inner thigh. You merely whimpered in response, lifting your head just in time to see him dive in to your center.

A loud moan escaped your lips as he expertly dragged his tongue through her heat, feeling Sam slip one arm under your leg, keeping her close. “Shit, Sam!” You gasped in pure pleasure, lips parted and brows furrowed as you sat up on her elbows, breathlessly watching him move against you core; he knew just what to do to get you even more turned on and screaming his name. He looked up at you, groaning against you when you bit her lip and leaned your head back again. “Oh, fuck!”

He swirled his tongue through your center, circling around your clit as he fastened his pace. “You’re being more quiet than usual,” Sam said in between licks, causing you to groan at the uneven pace. “Don’t want Dean or Cas to hear how gorgeous you sound?”

“I—please, Sam,” you gasped.

“What was that?” Sam asked, lightly licking at you heat.

You panted, looking at him with desperation. “Please, Sam! Fuck!”

Sam flattened his tongue against your center to give you exactly what you wanted, seeing you close your eyes in pleasure. He got a steady movement, going faster when you started to moan louder. One of your hands reached down, tightly gripping his hair as you moved against his mouth. Sam moaned against you, nearly getting off just by watching you fall apart with only the use of his skillful tongue.

“Holy fuck,” you moaned, eyes screwed shut as you felt herself getting closer and closer. Sam could tell too, fastening his pace as you tightened your grip on his hair, a loud moan erupting from your parted lips as you arched your back. “Sam! Shit, I-I—”

“I got you, baby,” Sam said, knowing you were incredibly close. “I got you.”

With those words, you came against his mouth, your loud moans filling the Impala as Sam continued to suck and lick you through your orgasm. Your grip on his hair loosened while your hips stilled against his mouth, chest rising and falling quickly as your eyes remained closed with complete bliss.

“Holy fuck,” you said after a few moments, opening your eyes when you felt Sam crawl on top of you. You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing him in for a sloppy kiss without a second thought. He eagerly kissed you back, lowering his body so you were closer together while one of his hands traveled down between your legs.

You gasped against his mouth when his fingers slipped through you, opening your eyes to look at him. “I think it’s your turn now,” you told him, going to reach down to his pants until he shifted to sit up.

“Later,” he breathed out, starting to undo the buttons of his pants. “I just need you.”

You sat up as well, Sam’s flannel sticking to her skin even more than before, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. Your hands quickly moved to help Sam, giggling with joy as he removed his pants and boxers, kicking them off into the floor. Your eyes flickered up to his again, biting your lip. “Can I be on top?”

“Fuck yes,” Sam eagerly said, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to his lap without a moment to waist.

You giggled again, looking down at his hard member as you straddled his waist. “Someone sure is excited.”

“Hard not to be when I just watched you get off on my tongue,” Sam replied in a gruff voice, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at you, not just with lust, but also pure love.

You whimpered at that, reaching down and giving him a few strokes. You watched Sam’s eyes flutter close at your gentle touch, lips parting with a breathy moan; you got turned on by his reactions just as much as Sam did with you. You shifted slightly, lining yourself up with him before slowly sinking down.

Your and Sam’s moans filled the Impala at the feeling, Sam’s hands automatically going to grip your waist as he filled you up. Sam bit his lip with anticipation, waiting for you to make sure it was okay to move before he did anything. You leaned forward slightly, planting your hands on Sam’s chiseled chest, starting to move against him as you locked eyes with him.

“Fuuuuck,” Sam groaned, his nails digging into your hips as you slid up and down. “Just like that, baby.”

“I’ve wanted to do this since this morning,” you breathlessly admitted, fastening your pace. You and Sam moaned again, your nails scratching at his chest as you moved your hands up and down his body. Sam loudly groaned at the sensation, thrusting up to meet your movements, making you cry out with pleasure.

“God, I love you so fucking much,” Sam panted, his eyes rolling back as you leaned down and gave attention to his neck. “So fucking perfect.”

You moaned as well, connecting your lips in a messy kiss while Sam’s thrusts got faster. “Fuck. . .” You whispered, “I love you too. . .so so fucking much.”

“Shit, Y/N,” Sam moaned as you nipped at his dampened neck, hands running up and down his abs.

“Faster, baby,” you whispered into his ear, heart beating faster as you and Sam got closer.

Sam grunted, tightening his grip on you as he picked up the pace. You started to lose her own rhythm, your hips shaking as you rode him, your orgasm growing closer and closer. “Sam, I’m. . .”

Sam lurched forward, pulling you further into his lap with your bare chest pressed against his own, the flannel pushed back and exposing your entire chest to him. His hips moved up into you as he hungrily kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours while his hands moved to cradle the back of your head.

Sam grunted, his forehead resting against yours as the Impala rocked back and forth, no doubt making it obvious what was going on inside if anyone were to enter the garage.

You meekly whimpered, feeling the knot in your stomach getting closer to finally snapping. “Sam!” You loudly moaned, many swear words and the repeat of his name getting drowned out as Sam pressed his mouth to yours again. Your hands went to his cheeks, holding him closer while Sam’s orgasm got closer and his fingers gently tugged on your hair. His hips smacked against yours faster, the sound filling the steamy Impala alongside your loud moans. You clenched around him as you came, making Sam groan into your mouth as he came seconds after you.

You pulled apart after a few moments, resting your clammy foreheads together as you finally started to catch your breaths, you still sat in Sam’s lap and his hands in your hair.

You warmly smiled as you locked eyes with Sam, his lips curling into a grin as his dimples poked out as well. “Maybe I should tease you more often, huh?” Sam asked.

You softly laughed, playfully rolling your eyes as you moved your hands to rest them on his damp shoulders. “You could, but two can play at that game, babe.”

“Is that a challenge?” Sam taunted.

You playfully narrowed your eyes, running a hand up and down one of his arms like you were in deep thought. “No, because you and I both know you would lose the first day.”

Sam breathed out a laugh, tilting his head. “Says the one who almost couldn’t wait till we were alone.”

You simply shrugged, a small smirk starting to appear on your lips. “Today I couldn’t,” you said, gently pushing him back down on the seat. Sam’s eyes slightly widened, brows raising. “But you just looked extra sexy and handsome today. You, on the other hand, can hardly keep your hands to yourself when you’re horny.”

“That’s not true,” Sam protested, going to speak again until you moved your hips, causing his head to fall back with pleasure.

You proudly smirked at his reaction, peering down at him. “Tell you what—let’s go again, and if you manage not to touch me, we can do that challenge.”

Sam breathed out a faint laugh, smirking back at you. “As long as you’re okay with not touching me. But, you and I both know that’ll be even harder for you than me.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, moving your hips again.

Sam let out a shaky breath, gazing up at you as his hands returned to your hips. “Yeah, we will.”

———

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback or send me some requests!

#supernatural #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural smut #spn #spn smut #spn imagine

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years ago

Text

i. Summer Bummer, Lolita Series

She just might become my lover for real. I might fuck with her all summer for real. They better not holla if I cuff her for real.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of erection, lewd thoughts, drinking

Words: 2168

Summary: Andy meets Jacob friends for the first time, including y/n.

“Dad, we’re here!” Jacob cried out, opening the front door to his familiar family home.

Jacob Barber had just finished his Junior year at Columbia University and had just finished packing up his things in his apartment before driving back home. His parents had just finalized their divorce over the Christmas Break, and frankly, Jacob was relieved. His father, Andy Barber, seemed to be doing great, much happier without Laurie in his life. Maybe that was why he had agreed to let Jacob and his roommates from Columbia stay in their home for the entire summer leading up to their final year of undergrad.

“I’ll be right down, just changing a lightbulb in the bathroom.” Andy called out from upstairs, finishing his work quickly and disposing of the broken bulb in the bathroom trash can. He took his time down the stairs, smiling widely as he saw Jacob and his friends standing in the kitchen. “Good to have you home, son.” Andy announced, embracing Jacob in a warm embrace. He wasn’t lying at all, yes, he was fine after the divorce, but he did miss having his son at home playing video games or listening to his music too loud. Once Andy let go, he eyed the two other boys behind him, patting Jacob on his shoulder.

“You boys must be Jacob’s roommates, right?” He questioned.

“Yes, sorry dad, this is Rashad and Collin.” Jacob motioned to each of them, watching as his father shook each of their hands. “It’s nice to meet you all, and please, call me Andy. Only my clients call me Mr. Barber.” Andy took a step back, reaching into the fridge to grab a few Coors Light bottles, handing one to each of the boys before turning his attention back to Jacob.

“I thought you said there was another roommate coming, right? The one who you begged me to let intern at my office during the summer?” Andy asked, raising an eyebrow at his son.

Jacob took a swig off his beer bottle, nodding his head. “Yeah, y/n said she’d be here soon, she was just finishing up with a friend for brunch and then she was heading over.” Jacob, Rashad, Collin, and Y/N had been roommates this year in a quaint little apartment about five minutes from Columbia’s main campus. Andy had been to the apartment once to meet up with Jacob for dinner in the Fall during one of his many fights with Laurie, though Jacob’s roommates had all been out that day.

“Alright, well why don’t you boys make yourselves at home, take your pick of any of the guest rooms upstairs and let me know if you need anything. I was thinking of firing up the grill, it’s such a beautiful day out and the swimming pool contractors just finished with the new pool out back.” Andy opens the doors of the fridge again, pulling out the hamburger meat as the three men race up the stairs to look at the rooms they’d be occupying for the next few months. “Sure dad, thanks!” Jacob calls back, giving his father a short wave of his hand.

About an hour later the boys had all settled into the Barber’s backyard, speakers against the home blaring the hottest songs of the summer. Andy and the boys stood around the grill, exchanging stories of their latest semester and giving Andy a chance to get to know Rashad and Collin better. He was quite impressed with the type of people Jacob had chosen to associate himself with. Rashad was an engineering major like Jacob while Collin was studying chemistry.

After the boys finished laughing about Collin and Jacob’s double date gone terribly wrong, Jacob’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen with a smile. “Y/N’s pulling in, I’m going to go help her with her bags.” The other boys stayed next to Andy, watching as he flipped the last set of burgers on the grill.

“She’s gotta look heavenly in a bikini, right bro?” Rashad asks Collin, nudging him playfully in the side.

“You got a thing for y/n? Because I don’t think it’d be too appropriate to get with someone you are living the entire summer with, especially under my roof.” Andy objected, removing the burgers off the grill and onto the plate beside him.

Both Rashad and Collin burst out laughing, taking swigs from their beer bottles as they do. “Nah, Andy. Y/N’s a smoke show don’t get me wrong, but we can look but don’t touch. She’s not a relationship type of woman anyhow.” Rashad teased.

Just as the two boys finished their snickering, Jacob opens the screen door, the two immediately jogging up to give y/n a hug.

“What, you boys miss me that much after being apart for only a day?” She teased, Collin finally releasing her from his death grip. Jacob pulls y/n out into the yard, stopping right in front of the grill where Andy was turning off the burners.

“Dad, this is y/n.” He gestures towards the woman beside him just as y/n sticks out a hand for Andy to shake.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barber, I’ve heard so much about you.” Andy finally turns his head in the direction of her voice, his eyes locking on hers as his heart skips a beat in his chest.

“It’s nice to meet you too, and please, call me Andy.” He reaches forward to shake her hand, taking in the whole sight of her. Her hair hung in loosely tousled waves down her back, stopping just above her breasts that were jutting out of her black lace bodysuit, which clung tightly to her hourglass figure and was tucked into her jean shorts that barely seemed to cover her ass. Her lips were plump and juicy, the color of a glass of fruit punch, a dotting of light freckles across her cheeks. Her eyes were striking, she wore no mascara, yet her lashes were thick and long. She was breathtakingly beautiful, a ‘smoke show’ as Rashad had said, indeed.

Y/N watched how Andy’s eyes engulfed her body, tilting her head to one side as she pretended not to notice. “Well Andy, thank you again for letting us all stay with you this summer, and thank you for the internship. I would rather work a paid internship than work with these boys anywhere.” She teased, ruffling Jacob’s hair.

“It’s no trouble at all, our office could use a good intern for the summer.” He agreed, eyes lingering a little too long on her perky breasts again.

“Maybe we can carpool to work, I’m all about environmentalism.” Her words are flirtatiously drifting off her tongue, a seductive smile spreading across her lips. Was Andy imagining this?

“R-right, yeah sounds good.” He moves to grab the plate of burgers by the grill, gesturing to the house. “Boys, please bring out the salad, condiments, and tableware from the counter and come set the table. Oh, and get y/n a beer.”

Andy moves to the patio table and sets down the plate of burgers, watching y/n as she slowly sinks into the chair next to him. He catches a whiff of her perfume, a heavenly mix of oranges, vanilla, and sandalwood wafting through his nostrils. It’s the perfect scent for her, he thought, moving to sit at the far end of the table.

The boys come back with all the supplies for dinner, including y/n’s beer, which she is already nursing happily from. Andy’s eyes focus on how her lips wrap around the top of the glass bottle, clearing his throat as if to rid himself of his dirty thoughts.

“So, y/n, what made you want to intern in my office?” He questioned, assembling a burger onto his plate. Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, carefully putting a helping of salad onto her own plate before assembling the rest of her meal.

“I’m completing my undergraduate degree and then hopefully getting admitted to law school to become an attorney. I figured interning in a real office would be a great first step.” She stuck her fork into the salad, opening her mouth to take in the bite.

“So, what are you getting your undergrad in?”

“My major is human rights with a minor in economics.” Her eyes met Jacob’s, a smile spreading on her face. “That’s how I actually found out Jake-y here was looking for another roommate. We had microeconomics together. Then I got introduced to these two losers-“ She teased, motioning to the other two guys at the table who feigned hurt expressions. “-and the rest is history.” The boys next to her were all chowing down as usual as if they hadn’t been fed in days.

As they take the time to finish eating, y/n lets the boys do most of the talking. She’s not a huge sharer when she first meets people, and frankly she’s glad to have the guys around to keep her entertained all summer. The dinner is spent catching way-too-long glances from Andy, his eyes lingering on hers for a bit too long here and there. There’s something about him that intrigues her, maybe it’s because he’s not a boy but a man, or maybe it’s just her usual game of cat and mouse, men usually fell to putty at her feet and she assumed he’d be the same.

“That was great dad, thank you.” Jacob says, finishing his third burger of the night. “Anyone up for a late-night swim?” He asked, standing up from the table and picking up a few of the items from it to take them inside. Rashad and Collin follow suit, with y/n trailing behind.

“Sounds good.” Rashad replies, going over to set his plate in the sink before bounding up the stairs. Andy walks back in as the four head upstairs to change, turning on the sink and rinsing off the dishes before setting them in the drying rack on the counter.

Shortly after finishing washing his third plate, he hears the boys running down the stairs, pushing each other to see who can do a cannonball in the pool first. Andy can’t help but chuckle to himself at their energy, it truly was nice to have noise in the house again.

“Can I help you, Mr. Barber?” Andy turns his head to the soft voice behind him, his cock twitching in his jeans. She’s standing in front of him in the tiniest floral bikini he’s even seen on a woman, the bottoms barely covering her slit and leaving nothing to the imagination of her ass.

“It’s Andy.” He chokes out, licking his lips before turning his attention back to the sink. Y/N sashays over to his side, grabbing the clean towel off the counter and starting to dry the dishes as Andy sets them into the rack.

“Right, I’m sorry, Andy.” Her eyes trail over his figure as she speaks, he can feel her eyes on him, and he shifts his weight as he stands to make sure his cock couldn’t be seen through the fabric of his jeans. “Thank you again for letting us all stay here; I was hoping not to have to deal with another summer bummer.” Her thin fingers set each dry dish carefully atop the other, Andy’s eyes glancing over one last time before he turns off the water, drying his hands on a clean towel.

He clears his throat. “Of course, any friend of Jacob’s is a friend of mine.” Suddenly, as if his ears are burning, Jacob opens the screen door sopping wet.

“You coming y/n?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, I was just helping your dad clean up.”

Andy shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide the erection in his pants. “Hey kiddo, I’m going to bed, you guys have fun tonight.” He turns to walk down the hallway of the first floor to his bedroom, hearing y/n’s soft voice echoing out to him.

“Goodnight Andy.” She purred, Jacob finally picking her up over his shoulder and carrying her out to the pool area, her cries of protest lingering as he shut the screen door behind them.

Once locked away in his room Andy let out a sigh, undoing his jeans and letting his cock spring free from his underwear. He couldn’t believe the way he was getting hard for his son’s best friend, he hadn’t even had a chance to think of another woman since the divorce, but y/n just had this sickeningly sweet seduction about her, he knew it matched a certain name.

“Lolita.” He murmured, and though she wasn’t a 12-year old girl from the novel, because ew, he did seem to have some sinful obsession with her after having just met. Is this love or lust or some game on repeat? Andy didn’t know, but one thing was for sure, he was definitely about to jerk off to sexual thoughts of her in that bikini.

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff @rattlemyb0nes @rootcrop @goldenboysteve @turtoix @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @ccmarvelxx

#doubleleoenergyseries: lolita #DLE Series: Lolita #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader

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miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

Note

I say Miraculous AU where Luka comes on the trip as a chaperone.

- Marinette stressing over what happened with Fu and now being guardian. Tom and Sabine are actually concerned about their daughter and want to do something about it, so when Luka visits the bakery to say “hi” to Marinette, they recognize him (he’s been in Marinette’s room in “Silencer” so they’ve almost definitely seen him before) and ask him to go along on the trip with Marinette, with them pulling all the strings to find a way for him to join. Luka isn’t a fool, so he happily agrees. Tom and Sabine like, “oh don’t forget to ask your parents if it’s okay,” and Luka’s just, “trust me, she’s fine with it.”

(optional bonus that, since the whole class but Lila went, there is actually an extra seat that they’d reserved for her before she backed out when she thought Adrien was going to stay behind)

- During the scene where Ms. Mendeleiev offers Marinette her seat, Luka moves in after the switch has been made, chiming in to offer Marinette his seat so she’s not uncomfortably crammed in between two adult men. She’s surprised at the offer, but thanks him and swaps with him, earning a nice window seat in return.

- At nighttime, Marinette wakes up (her head probably slipped and it hit the wall; didn’t hurt but she’s awake now) and slips out of her seat to go check on Luka to see how he’s doing. She giggles at the popcorn Mr. Damocles has dropped on him, finding it cute, then carefully reaches over to wipe off the pieces. She turns to leave, but her earlier motion brushing the popcorn off wakes Luka up. He gently calls her name and slips out of his seat to join her; she tries to apologize but he just smiles and assures her that it’s fine.

- While on their way to the back of the plane, Marinette trips slightly on Alya’s foot (as Alya is sleeping on Nino and her foot was partly in the aisle; Marinette didn’t bump into it earlier because she didn’t have to move to the side for Luka back then). Luka steadies her and Marinette covers her mouth to suppress a yelp, then they keep walking to the back.

- Still, the movement woke Alya up and she glances back to look at Luka and Marinette watching the sunrise together. Confused, she nudges Nino so the both of them can look together. Alya comments that she’s seen Marinette making “lovey eyes” at Luka (referencing “Captain Hardrock” and “Frozer”), but Marinette is so OBVIOUSLY into Adrien and “can’t be honest about her feelings.” Nino chimes in that he’s having “best bud struggles” too because Adrien is still as sheltered as ever and “won’t come out of his shell.” They get the idea to perform “Operation New York” as in the original and think that it’ll be totally easy with no roadblocks whatsoever!

- Meanwhile, Marinette and Luka have their talk about her getting her “clarity.” Marinette sighs and admits that it feels like people are going to talk about her and Adrien no matter what she says/does (which tips Luka off that something’s wrong), to which Luka replies with a smile that he promises not to bring up Adrien for the rest of the trip unless Marinette does so first. She agrees to that, even giving him a “thank you” hug that he eagerly returns.

- On the ride to the place everyone’s staying at, Alya tries to engage Marinette in conversation about Adrien, clearly smug and feeling confident that it will be easy, but then she realizes that Marinette isn’t paying attention and is idling on her phone. Alya nudges Marinette, earning her attention, but when Alya starts talking about Adrien again, Marinette’s phone goes off and she looks back down at it, now giggling. Alya, now annoyed, asks Marinette if she’s even listening, which gets Marinette to look up and really give Alya her attention. “Oh, sorry about that. I was texting Luka.”

- Alya is just, “?????”

- Yes, this special is very much going to be Alya and Nino suffering to try to get Adrien and Marinette alone together and constantly failing. You’re welcome.

- No sliding door lock-ins because that’s dumb and the special is dumb for thinking it. Also, when Alya goes to mock “tease” Marinette about her Adrien crush in front of Sabrina, she turns to realize that Marinette is with Luka talking to Miss Mendeleiev about where he’ll be staying since he’s not technically with the class, and/or Luka is talking to some of the New York people about how amazing Marinette is ala Jagged Stone.

- Later in the night, everyone sneaks out to the party (bonus if someone comments that they “never took Luka for the type to sneak out” and Luka just grins like, “You clearly haven’t met my mom.”; double bonus if Luka stumbled into Aeon and Jess’ room with Marinette and Adrien, so Aeon was all “those two are--!” before seeing Luka and being confused) and a few party-goers ask Marinette and Luka if they want to dance to the energetic music. Marinette grins nervously and insists that she’s clumsy and will just end up falling all over people (a few pout and complain that “it would’ve been fun” but drop the subject).

- Cue the superhero hot dog vendor (a description I never thought I would say but here we are) handing out hot dogs. Aeon (foreseeing what will happen; it does pain me to still put her in the roll of “love square shipper” but I’m trying not to change what characters do or how they act unless I’m specifically adding things, meaning the main change is just that Luka’s here) and knowing that Luka interfered earlier, sees the guitar case on his back and quickly requests that he play some music alongside Jess since they both play guitar. Luka agrees, assuring Marinette that it’s alright and he’s not interested in having hot dogs since he’d just get crumbs on his guitar.

- Alya and Nino grin because they’re finally going to do something here!! As in the original, the hot dog vendor only has two hot dogs left and Alya and Nino split them in half, handing two halves of the same hot dog to Adrien and Marinette, who eat their respective half.

- Marinette yelps as her feet leave the ground and Luka’s head darts up on alert. He immediately abandons his guitar, his hand reaching out and catching hers as pulls her back down (or at least as down as she’ll go while still floating). He looks up at Adrien - as if to consider helping - but Adrien doesn’t want it and seems to be having fun trying to figure out how to fly, even muttering to himself about how he wish Kagami were there because they could’ve done “air fencing.”

- Luka looks back at Marinette, ensuring that she’s okay. She’s staring up at Adrien, expression mixed, then looks back at Luka, his presence grounding her as she calms down. She almost seems to forget that Adrien is there, focusing on her current flying capabilities and how light on (off?) her feet she is.

- “Oh...oh!” She gasps, realizing with a grin. “I can’t fall over if I’m floating! Luka, dance with me!”

- He’s caught off-guard by the enthusiastic request, then chuckles and nods in agreement, happily taking her other hand as well as he guides her to the other people dancing.

- Cut to the next day when the group is going to the museum. Alya and Nino are absolutely exhausted because Luka has consistently gotten in her and Nino’s way, which leads to them coming up with the new scheme with Aeon and Jess.

- Nino sends Adrien to the planned room and Alya goes to send Marinette, but Luka catches on and casually asks Marinette if he can go with her. Alya cuts in to “playfully” dismiss Luka and tell him to stop “hovering over Marinette,” leading Marinette to slowly walk off with one longing look back at Luka.

- Luka intentionally waits for Alya to not be watching anymore, then follows after Marinette.

- Episode plays out mostly as normal, though because Marinette has to carry Luka off to somewhere safe, she’s not as easily able to go off after Chat until later since she had time to cool down. Aeon doesn’t die but Paris is still a wreck because Chat Noir didn’t show up, leading to the same Chat Noir quitting scene (just with Ladybug calling out Chat here instead of mid-battle) as before. Adrien still ends up having to leave and Alya still snaps at Marinette, which leads to Marinette chasing after Adrien (mostly due to just mounting stress and pressure and the loss of her partner).

- As Marinette lies on the pavement, Luka shows up, soaking wet because he had actually never gone back with the rest of the class; he’d run off when Ms. Mendeleiev explained to him that Marinette was missing. He panics when he sees Marinette lying motionless there, running up and quickly checking her for injuries and to ensure that she’s breathing. She just leans forward and hugs him without warning, defeated but happy to have him with her.

- Marinette slowly explains the situation, Luka looking horrified when she starts talking about what Alya was shouting at her about, and he listens all the way up until the end before pointing out, “You didn’t have to like him that way to want him to stay.” “W-what?” “Marinette, you can be Adrien’s friend and still want him to stay in New York with us. It didn’t have to be any deeper than that.”

- His words cause Marinette to realize something; she - and definitely her friends as well - had put so much weight to everything she did for Adrien just because of her silly crush that of course she couldn’t see him as a friend. With all the insistence that getting him permission to go to New York and wanting him to stay was due to her crush, it was all she could focus on. She can want things for Adrien and want to do things with him regardless of her feelings for him, and she doesn’t have to put a name to those feelings either; she’ll never be able to truly move on if she keeps equating any good feeling towards Adrien with crushing on him.

- That done, Luka helps her up and they slowly walk back to go inside, though stopping as they see that Ms. Mendeleiev is at the front of the building chewing out Alya and Nino; both of them for sending Marinette and Adrien away from the group for fake tasks at the museum, and Alya specifically for sending Marinette after a car in the rain. Ms. Mendeleiev states that they’ll talk about it more inside but everyone should get back to their rooms for now.

- Marinette heads back to her room alone (as she shared a room with Alya but Alya’s getting a talking to at the moment) and is later visited by Uncanny Valley, who explains that she’s needed. Marinette - now with renewed confidence in how she feels thanks to her revelation - doesn’t say that she “can’t imagine Ladybug without him” and instead states that she and Chat Noir are partners, and a partner doesn’t abandon the other. She did it once herself, a long time ago, but she was ready to face her mistakes afterwards and she hopes that Chat Noir is too.

- Cue return of Chat Noir (no LadyNoir hug because no Chat, you have to earn that back) and the battle plays out as usual. Adrien still has to go home and Marinette sends him a text for later saying, “I wish you could’ve stayed,” but with a smile on her face, confident that this really is a friend thing and that’s all it needs to be.

- Marinette and Luka end up sitting together on the plane ride back to Paris, right behind Juleka and Rose. It’s nighttime, but neither can sleep and Marinette decides to use the private time to thank Luka for what he said (really, all the things he said), but Luka assures her that any improvement is all on her and he’s just happy to be around for it. She chides him for his modesty and tells him to take the compliment because he deserves it (they’re just flirting at this point), then slips out of her seat and into Luka’s, lightly jabbing at his chest with a finger while insisting that he accept everything’s he’s done for her. He laughs and replies that he’s happy to do that and is just glad seeing her smile.

- Eventually, the subject shifts to Juleka and Rose, who are once again sitting in the same seat, all cuddled up and sleeping together. Marinette asks playfully if Juleka and Rose are like that back on the Liberty, to which Luka nods and answers that they are, all the time. They have a good giggle about it, with Luka explaining that they’re very close (possibly giving some exposition on how long they’ve been “together” which is obviously referring to dating but could be seen as friendship by writers who are chickens).

- Marinette thinks about that for a moment, fingers briefly twitching, then she settles a little closer to Luka, asking quietly, “Do you think we’re that close?”

- Luka gapes at her in response, needing a moment to study her expression - which is more confidence than he’s ever seen her show before - and make sure that she means what he thinks it might. Once he’s certain, he gives her an almost shy smile, replying, “I’d like us to be. What about you, Marinette?”

- Marinette turns more towards him, one of her hands falling upon his. She leans up, and the camera then cuts away to Juleka and Rose in the seat in front of them, smiling and cuddling closer to each other (a very obvious hint that Luka and Marinette kissed because the show is allergic to people kissing if it’s not the love square so fine, I’ll get creative)

- Just as the screen fades out, Marinette’s voice can be heard, saying, “Luka, I think I found my clarity after all.”

#category: salt #special: Miraculous New York #MC's Adjustments #adjustment: plotlines #adjusment: romance #other: ask and answer #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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triptuckers · 3 years ago

Text

Looking at the wrong one - Jesper Fahey

Request: yes! “Firstly, I just want to say I really love your writing! I’ve had this idea for a while and wanting to find someone to write it because I love it so much. So basically reader has feelings for Kaz but he’s obviously in love with Inej so she confides in Jesper who comforts her and she eventually realizes that he’s been the one for her the whole time. I hope you can write it but if you can’t that’s totally fine too!!” Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader Summary: Jesper is the first person you go to when you need advice about something - or rather, someone. It takes you a while to realise you’ve been sneaking glances at the wrong person. Warnings: none Word count: 2.7K A/N: I loved this request sm!! been busy busy busy lately so sorry if your request is taking a while for me to write, finish and post! enjoy reading :)

You glance over at Kaz while he’s explaining the blueprints laid out in front of everyone. You’re trying to pay attention to what he’s saying, you really are, but it’s hard. It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying when Kaz is the one who’s talking.

There’s no denying it, Kaz looks good. For weeks you tried to push your feelings away, but soon what started as a little crush developed into something more. And now you can barely keep your eyes off of him.

There’s just something about his mysterious aura. The dark hair, sharp jaw, how he never seems to smile - though you did catch him smile once when he thought no one was looking. There’s so much you don’t know about him, and you’re dying to find out.

Apparently, you’ve been staring at Kaz for a little too long, because you feel someone nudging your shoulder, and turn to face them.

‘You know.’ mutters Jesper to you from the corner of his mouth. ‘If you want to talk about it, or just need to rant and have someone listen to you, I’m always here. I’ve heard I’m excellent company.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ you say. ‘Do you think we can pull this job of?’

You hoped Jesper wouldn’t ask about Kaz again, and he senses your need to change the subject.

‘We better.’ he says. ‘We can score big with this one.’

Jesper starts talking about what he’s going to do once the job is done, but your eyes are already shifting back to Kaz. You can’t help but to feel a knot in your chest as you see him looking at Inej.

While you’re always looking at Kaz, you catch him looking at Inej.

Inej is one of your closest friends, and you would die for her. Hell, you almost did die for her a couple of months ago. Still, you couldn’t help but to feel jealous of her. Of the way Kaz looked at her.

Whenever Kaz was looking at Inej and you caught him, it didn’t take long for you to fall down a rabbit hole of insecure and jealous thoughts.

You’d think of everything Inej can do that you cannot do. She has a gifts for knives, you know your way around guns, not knives. When she’s sneaking around, she almost becomes one with the shadows, you couldn’t soundlessly sneak up to someone even if you tried.

You always concluded Inej was better than you on more than one aspect. You figured she would be a better match for Kaz than you could ever be. You were ashamed of being so jealous of your friend when all Kaz did was look at her. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get rid of the jealousy.

After Kaz has rolled up the blueprints and everyone went over the plan one last time, you say your goodnights and all head back to your own rooms. You’re barely aware of your movements as your legs carry you to your room. When you move to open the door to your room, a familiar whistle makes you look up.

‘The offer for some company still stands.’ says Jesper, and he winks at you before entering his own room, next to yours in the hallway.

While Jesper didn’t have Kaz’ gift for coming up with plans, he wasn’t stupid. He had caught you looking at Kaz a couple of times, then decided to speak up. As soon as the opportunity presented himself, he’d taken you apart from the others and confronted you about your staring.

You were shocked, asking him how he could have possible figured it out. Jesper merely raised his eyebrows and told you you’re always looking at Kaz. You hadn’t realised you looked at Kaz so many times. Ever since, Jesper has offered a listening ear. And though you appreciated it, you weren’t ready to talk about your feelings just yet.

As you’re taking your boots off, your mind wanders to Kaz again. And the way he looked at Inej. He didn’t show his feelings that often, but you couldn’t help but notice how soft his eyes were when he looked at Inej. It drove you crazy, and you didn’t like that it did. You felt like you were going to explode if you kept pushing these feelings down any longer. Maybe having someone listen to you didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

Not bothering to put your boots back on, you get up and leave your room. You take a few steps to get in front of Jesper’s door. Though it’s not that late and he’s probably still awake, you hesitate. What if he just wanted to be a good friend, but wasn’t actually interested in your thoughts on Kaz?

You sigh and shake your head, clearing your mind. You then raise your hand and knock on the door. After a few seconds it opens, revealing Jesper. He’s taken off his coat and boots, leaving him in just a shirt and a pair of trousers. He smiles when he sees you.

‘I see you do want my company?’ he says. ‘Only if you don’t mind.’ you say. ‘Of course not.’ he says, stepping aside so you can enter his room.

You take a seat in the only chair in the room as Jesper closes the door. He walks over to his bed and sits down as you tuck your feet under your legs, getting comfortable.

‘So.’ says Jesper. ‘Am I problem solving or listening?’

You frown at his words. ‘What does that mean?’ you ask him.

‘Well, it’s the easiest way to prevent a fight.’ explains Jesper. ‘If I’m problem solving, I’ll give you advice and come up with solutions. If I’m listening, I’m just going to shut up and, well, listen. So, am I problem solving or listening?’

‘Listening, I guess.’ you say.

‘Alright.’ says Jesper, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs in front of him. He gestures with his hand to you. ‘Let it all out then, love.’

You don’t know where to begin. Jesper is patient as you’re searching for the words. Without realising, you start to play with your fingers, a habit of yours which you do when you’re thinking or anxious.

‘It starts... Well, when I became a member of the Dregs, I guess. I was young, but Kaz was around my age. We became close friends. That is, as far as being close friends with Kaz goes. I trusted him, he trusted me. We spent months working our way up to the top and along the way you tagged along, and Inej, Nina, Matthias and Wylan. I care about all of you, but there’s just something different about Kaz.’ you tell him.

Jesper looks at you but doesn’t say anything. He’s just listening, exactly like he said he would.

‘It started off as an innocent crush. Saints, I sound like some school girl. Anyway, somewhere along the way that little crush developed into something more. And now I can’t stop looking at him or thinking about him. And now that I’ve said this out loud, I realise you are the first person I’ve talked to about this.’

You’re silent for a while as you look at Jesper. You were afraid he’d laugh at you, but he’s just sitting on his bed, looking at you.

‘I can tell there’s still something else on your mind.’ he simply says. You let out a sigh and nod, and start talking again.

‘He’s always looking at Inej. Whenever I look at him, he’s looking at Inej. I know I shouldn’t feel the way I do, but I cannot pretend it doesn't make me a little jealous. The first time I saw him looking at Inej, I wished he looked at me like that. I know this sounds stupid, but I really can’t help it. And once I catch him looking at her, I start to think about how I’m not worth it.’ you say.

Now Jesper frowns. ‘But you’re worth it.’ he says. You chuckle softly and shake your head.

‘She’s everything I’m not. She’s pretty, she’s very skilled with her knives, she can sneak up to anyone without being seen or heard. She knows the secrets of everyone in the Barrel. She could take down the Merchant council all on her own if she wanted to. I can’t do that.’ you say.

‘I know I said I was listening, but can I just offer you one piece of advice?’ asks Jesper. You nod. ‘You say you notice the way Kaz looks at Inej, I have noticed that as well. He looks at her the way you look at him. Don’t you think you should try to admit to yourself that he’s only going to be looking at her, and not you?’

‘Deep down I know that.’ you say softly. ‘But I can’t fully wrap my head around that. Not just yet, at least.’

‘Alright.’ says Jesper. ‘Maybe not now, but if you give it time, maybe it’ll hurt less.’

You look at him and smile as you get up. ‘Thank you Jesper.’ you say. ‘This is nice. Having someone listen to you.’

Jesper gets up as well as you walk toward the door. ‘The door’s always open to you.’ says Jesper as he opens the door for you. ‘You can always swing by.’

‘Thanks.’ you say as you step out onto the hallway. ‘Goodnight, Jes.’ ‘Night, Y/N.’ he says as you walk the few steps to the door of your room.

After that conversation, your nightly visits to Jesper’s room increase. Sometimes he’s problem solving, sometimes he’s listening, and sometimes you just sit in silence when all you want is some company.

There’s even one night in which you actually fell asleep when you were sitting on his bed, and when you woke up the next morning, you found Jesper sleeping on the floor while using his coat as a blanket. Your heart melted a little, but you decided not to speak up as you snuck out of his room.

Weeks pass, and slowly your visits turn from seeking advice about Kaz to enjoying a conversation with Jesper. He makes you laugh as he tells you stories about how he used to drive his parents crazy doing god knows what at their farm. In return, you tell him about the life you lived before you came to Ketterdam.

Another couple of visits later, and you’ve almost completely forgotten that you originally started visiting Jesper to talk about Kaz. You notice you’ve stopped sneaking glances at Kaz. You’re not even jealous when you catch him looking at Inej again.

Instead, your attention is on Jesper. More than once, he caught your eye and sent a wink you way, making you smile and turn away.

Your nightly visits increase even more, and you can be found in Jesper’s room almost every night, laughing at his jokes.

After a particularly long night that involved keeping tabs on the security of one of the banks for hours, you find yourself in front of Jesper’s room again. Kaz had sent you out on the job, and you had hoped Jesper would be in his room when you got back.

But after knocking three times, he still hasn’t opened the door. You whistle a familiar tune, hoping he’d answer the door. When he doesn’t, you kick over a tiny tin can that sits on the floor next to the door.

‘So predictable.’ you murmur as you bend down to pick up the key that was underneath it. Knowing Jesper probably wouldn’t mind, you let yourself in and walk over to the only chair in the room.

You let yourself settle in and reach out to take the deck of cards Jesper always keeps on his nightstand.

You’re fooling around with the cards, if only to keep yourself busy as you wait for Jesper. You’re shuffling the cards, moving them smoothly in your hands.

‘Can you teach me that?’

At the sudden voice, you drop half of the cards. You hadn’t seen or heard him coming. Jesper chuckles as he walks over and stands behind you, looking out over the city beneath you.

‘This is my favourite view.’ he says, looking out the window.

‘Mine too.’ you say, while you look at the reflection of his face in the window. You then fully realise you haven’t talked about Kaz in weeks, that you just come to Jesper’s room for a conversation and some company, and you remember the night he slept on the floor.

‘Jes?’ you ask him. ‘Yea love?’ he says. ‘The other night when I was here-’ ‘Care to specify which night?’

‘I fell asleep, and when I woke up you were sleeping on the floor.’ ‘Oh, that night.’ he says. ‘Well, would you rather I had pushed you off the bed?’ ‘No.’ you laugh.

Jesper laughs too and you look at each other in silence afterward. It’s a comfortable silence, and he’s the first one to speak up.

‘You haven’t talked about Kaz in a while.’ he says. ‘Finally realised his heart belongs to someone else?’

‘Yes, well, I realised that so does mine.’ you say. This makes Jesper frown.

‘Already moving on?’ he says. ‘Thought your feelings for him were more serious.’

‘They were.’ you say. ‘But I've found someone who listens to me, who sees me, who makes me laugh.’ you cock your head to the side a little and look at him. ‘Nice to look at, as well.’

Jesper raises one eyebrow.

‘Who is this mystery person?’ he says. ‘And am I problem solving or listening?’ ‘Well I hope you’re gonna do something else.’ you say. Jesper frowns again, making you playfully roll your eyes.

‘Not the smartest tonight, are we?’ you say. ‘Let me repeat it: I've found someone who listens to me, sees me, and makes me laugh. and not bad to look at.’

He’s still frowning. ‘Another hint?’ he says. ‘This is why Kaz does the planning and has the brains.’ you say, laughing.‘Rude.’ says Jesper.

‘It’s a he, and he’s caring and sweet, sometimes struggles to sit still, loves a good gunfight, he’s an excellent shot.’ you say.

Jesper smirks at you and then fakes a look of confusion on his face. ‘Still not getting it.’ he says. ‘Tell me more about him.’

You laugh and get up, standing close to him. ‘He’s not just an excellent shot, he’s the best damn sharpshooter in Ketterdam. Saved my ass a couple times as well. Owns a pair of stunningly hand made revolvers. He’s Zemini, taller than me, and..’ your voice drifts off.

‘And?’ says Jesper, stepping closer to you. ‘And I've been wondering if he’s a good kisser.’ you say softly.

‘Well, let’s find out, shall we?’ says Jesper and he cups your face with both of his hands and presses his lips against yours. They’re soft, and you can taste a hint of his last drink on them. He kisses you gently but passionate, and takes a breath when he pulls away.

‘Hmm.’ you say, pretending to think. ‘Yea, pretty good.’

‘Pretty good?’ says Jesper. ‘I've heard I'm more than a pretty good kisser.’

‘Prove it then.’ you say.

Jesper smirks and pulls you in for a kiss once more. This one is different, it’s more demanding, and leaves you breathless as you struggle to keep your knees from buckling.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. ‘How about that?’ he says softly.

You smile and press a quick kiss to his lips. ‘You live up to your reputation, Fahey.’ you say. ‘You’re an excellent kisser.’

‘Just like I thought.’ says Jesper. ‘Do you want to stay here tonight?’

‘I would love to.’ you say.

You spend the rest of the night talking with Jesper until eventually, you feel yourself falling asleep. You feel how Jesper moves next to you, to take his spot on the floor again. You lay a hand on his arm to stop him, silently telling him it’s okay and that he doesn’t have to sleep on the floor.

Kaz wasn’t the right match for you, Inej is. But Jesper certainly is your match.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

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