#Every time you sit at the dinner table further down from the REAL family you push down the self-doubts. You belong. You belong.You earned it
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There’s something so viscerally sad about Thistle devoting his whole life body and soul to the family who bought him and put him in a clown costume
#Every time you sit at the dinner table further down from the REAL family you push down the self-doubts. You belong. You belong.You earned it#You are worthy#and like he does! Or does he really… They love him but just how do they see him?#Does he have to play the luth in the corner of the room to be able to spend time with his baby nephew? Entertainer or advisor or brother?#Ehem#dungeon meshi#thistle#spoilers#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#I have a theory though that the jester costume is a false perception of how tallmen thought elves dressed.#So then bc a bunch of courts want an elf it became a ‘dress the elf up in their cultural attire!’ thing tm and jester outfits became a thin#A touch of elven inspiration and just a load of bs and bad tailoring decisions
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Pieces of the past | [A.H]
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader | WC: 1.2k | CW: This is very angsty (and kind of triggering to me at least), reminiscing of childhood, centered around the memories you have of a dead relative, specifically your granddad, mentions of a funeral, mention of undisclosed illness. I mention the word church once.| Summary: Looking at old pictures from your childhood, which makes memories resurface, some better than other.
A/N: This is a very personal fic to me, and I wrote it weeks ago when it would've been my grandad's 80th birthday. I hope you guys will take good care of it --> Also the stories told about the grandad in these are half real and half made up for the sake of the story ❤️
You set the heavy grocery bag on the kitchen table with a sigh, the crinkling of paper breaking the stillness of the apartment. You’d just returned from your mom's house, and what was supposed to be a quick stop had quickly turned into a nostalgic trip down memory lane. The bag was filled with old photographs, ones she had kept in the basement - forgotten over time, ones you hadn’t seen in years. Mostly, they were from your childhood, while others were from before you were born - holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and weddings - but the ones that hit the hardest were the ones of your grandad.
He had passed when you were still young, but the memories you had of him were vivid, and cherished, and every now and then, those memories resurfaced like the pictures you now held in your hands.
You started spreading them across the dinner table, sorting through the faded snapshots, organizing them by event. There was one of you, maybe 3 years old, sitting in a four-wheeled wagon, your grandad pulling you around the garden, both of your faces were lit with massive smiles - You could tell it was winter from your massive red puffer jacket, it looked way too big for a toddler, but it looked warm. Another one had him holding your hand while walking through the park, his old, weathered jacket wrapped tightly around him, you could tell he was already sick there, knowing that not long after that trip, he had passed.
The further you sorted, the heavier the ache in your chest grew. It wasn’t sadness, really - it was more of an emptiness, a longing for those quiet, comfortable moments you could never get back, a longing, wondering how he would've reacted to your life choices, how different life might have looked if he had still been around.
You picked up a photograph that felt heavier than the rest, your breath hitching as you recognized the scene captured within the frame. It was a solemn day, the sky gray as friends and family gathered to pay their respects. Your grandad’s casket, draped in a simple white and wooden veneer, stood surrounded by flowers, red roses to be exact - they were always his favorite - each bloom a testament to the love he had shared throughout his life. In the image, you could see yourself, a small figure in a white dress - it was the same one you would wear when your grandmother remarried 2 years later - holding tightly to your mother’s hand, her fingers trembling in yours. Tears glistened in your eyes as you remembered the heaviness in your heart that day, you were sure you hadn't really understood what was going on around you. The ache of loss was suffocating, knowing he had touched so many lives. You blinked hard, wishing to erase that moment from your mind, but it lingered like a ghost, haunting the edges of your memories.
By the time Hotch returned home, you were sitting in the middle of a sea of photographs, some placed in neat piles, others scattered haphazardly, the memories tangled with your emotions. You didn’t hear the door open or the sound of his briefcase hitting the floor. It wasn’t until you felt his presence that you realized he was home.
“Hey,” his voice was soft, and when you looked up at him, he already knew. He didn’t need to ask.
“Hey,” you murmured back, trying to summon a small smile but failing. Your eyes dropped back to the picture in your hand, a shot of your grandad, dressed in his Sunday best at his 25th wedding anniversary with your grandmother, his kind eyes twinkling with the same warmth you always remembered.
Hotch’s gaze followed yours to the table, his brow furrowing slightly as he took in the scene. He walked over without a word and sat beside you, his presence solid and comforting, even in the silence.
You leaned into him a little, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “I went to mom’s today, and she gave me all of these,” you explained quietly, gesturing toward the photographs. “I wasn’t expecting to… I don’t know, feel this way.”
Hotch slipped an arm around you, grounding you without interrupting your thoughts.
Your thumb brushed the edge of the photo in your hand, the texture familiar, like you had held it a hundred times before. “That’s me and my grandad,” you said softly. “I miss him. He always knew how to make things feel better, you know?”
Hotch nodded, his eyes on the photograph now, though he stayed silent, giving you space to share whatever you needed.
“I remember when this picture was taken. It was a summer afternoon. We’d just come back from the park, and I had scraped my knee running after the dog.” You smiled faintly, the memory so vivid it was almost like stepping back in time. “I was crying so much, and he just scooped me up like it was nothing, sat me on his knee, and blew all the pain away he said. It worked, of course.”
Hotch's thumb traced soft circles on your arm, a quiet comfort that encouraged you to keep going.
You picked up another photo, this one of your grandad during the last Christmas you got to spend with him. “This was the last Christmas, I never knew he was as sick as he was,” you murmured, your voice catching slightly. “He loved hosting everyone, their house was always open, whether it be people from church or his patients at work, always pretending like it wasn’t a big deal, he was so proud of it.”
The lump in your throat grew, but you didn’t stop. You wanted to keep talking, wanted to share these pieces of yourself and your grandad with Hotch.
“He taught me so much, not just the little things, but how to… how to love and care for people. I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about him today. He would’ve liked you a lot, Aaron,” you added, turning your head slightly to glance at him.
Hotch’s eyes softened, his hand resting on your back as he gave you a gentle squeeze. “I would’ve liked to have met him,” he said quietly, his voice was low and soothing.
You nodded, feeling the familiar weight of longing settling in your chest again. But being here, with Hotch beside you, made it a little easier to bear. His quiet understanding, the way he didn’t try to fill the silence with meaningless words to coax you into being happy - it was exactly what you needed.
For the next hour, you kept sorting through the photos, talking when the memories felt too strong to hold back, and simply resting when the words wouldn’t come. Hotch stayed right there with you, listening, holding you, and occasionally picking up a picture to ask about it, his voice always gentle, never rushing or forcing information out of you.
It wasn’t until the last photograph was placed on the table that you finally exhaled, feeling a little lighter, even though the ache was still there. You leaned into Hotch’s warmth, your head on his shoulder again.
“Thank you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.
Hotch pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”
And in that quiet moment, you realized that while you couldn’t go back to those days with your grandad, the love and memories he left behind would always be a part of you - and now, they were something you could share with the person sitting beside you.
#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch#hotch thoughts#criminal minds x reader#hotchner#x reader#hotch x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner fanfic#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#thomas gibson#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds one shot#criminal minds fanfic#aaron hotchner angst#criminal minds angst
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Goldsmiths Centrists and Palestine: How To Ignore A Genocide - by August Sappho
On some unfortunate Tuesday in October 2023, I was sat shoving a piping hot cheese toastie down my throat in between morning lectures and sat idly with 2 other people in the refectory. Creative Arts students I'd met in the freshers chat who, whenever I had tried to share the contents of my lectures excitedly, had shut me down on the basis of politics being complicated and uncomfortable table talk. Desperate to make friends and coming from a family of people who typically get headaches at the dinner table caused by my ramblings and ravings, I understood and obliged; after all, I want to build bridges, not be the scary monster underneath them. That is until the curious question of Palestine came up, and I stayed quiet. Surely, these self-proclaimed apolitical progressives would be sensible. “I just think it’s all so complicated, really! People need to read up more before they come to broad conclusions!*” Yes, they absolutely should. What a rational take to have formed in the face of a sudden media flurry. In my own opinion, education, and more importantly, history, is the cornerstone of enriching one's ideas and understanding. The same way you use butter in a stew, and like butter, the professionals use a lot of it. And, like butter, it fattens me up, nourishes me and brings me a great deal of comfort.
Mid-way through the summer term, I was struck by pure delight that I am living in a time where I can access any and every book I could ever dream of accessing either via the internet or a library or simply buying it. I sit, live and breathe in a country where the tuition fees are, yes, expensive but far from American and where people take great risks on their whole lives just to brush it with their fingertips, arm outstretched over a chasm of hope. Unfortunately, my table mates had decided not to utilise any of this incredibly accessible research and immediately followed their statements up by berating and shaming a lecturer in the media department for wearing a pro-Palestine jumper. They alluded very heavily that he should face some sort of consequence or simply not be allowed to wear it. After all, what does Palestine have to do with Creative Arts? I continued chewing very slowly and very tense. I did think about saying something but decided against it. Months later, I blew up at them because these same apolitical progressives had one too many times scoffed, played devil's advocate and questioned people, including myself, into an uncomfortable corner over political meet-ups, rallies and open letters. Questioning tactics, phrasing, aims to no avail beyond being arseholes - have we tried just being really super duper nice to management guys? I almost laughed when I’d seen one of them had started learning Hebrew out of the blue on Duolingo.
Unfortunately, those self-proclaimed progressives aren't anything new at Goldsmiths University of London. It has a real troubling culture of letting people only engage in what they are comfortable with and not think much beyond that. Gay rights are legal in this country and, therefore, not controversial and, consequently, easy to support. Racism is illegal in this country and, therefore, not controversial to speak up against and easy to publicly oppose. Feminism has had many successful waves here, and so it is not out of the ordinary to call yourself a feminist (without being able to explain much theory behind any of what makes these ideas up or what distinguishes them). Unfortunately, these are also easy things you can add to your social media bios with no further thought, with the sole intent of virtue signalling and repelling conservatives online. While I am grateful for all these comforts and people's ability to declare themselves as such openly, they are often done on a very face-value level and do not always mean you're a particularly good anti-racist or a good ally or a good feminist. They often trick people who have done their homework into a false sense of security. No,they use these words in a way where the thinking has been done for them. You do not have to fight; you just have to pick the glaringly obvious option. They do not have to form moral opinions on the suffragettes bombing mailboxes, the Stonewall Riots or violent plantation liberation attempts from the likes of John Brown. They can simply sit and enjoy the luxury of not ever having to deal with the hard-hitting stuff and pretending they would have come to those conclusions anyway.
Palestine, then, has acted as an axe, splitting whole student bodies around the world into two general camps. Between those who will occupy, sign letters, donate money, raise hell in the name of justice. In the name of what is good. Between those who will learn and listen and between those who will rattle on the same few talking points, claim to see both sides and claim things are just oh-so-complicated when they simply are not. Those who swear themselves by ideals of liberty and freedom and yet cannot muster a grain of sympathy to fight for those who have none. Those who will even go to the extent of the disenfranchisement of their peers and bullying if it means maintaining close contact with their comfort zones, and Palestine makes them very uncomfortable indeed—hearing chants and seeing flags and skirting around the videos of the bodies and the rubble, having to relocate your lecture or walk past a very obvious liberated zone. It makes it an unavoidable topic, puts politics in the face of those self-proclaimed progressives, and asks them, “Do you care enough to make a change?”. And the answer is a simple no. Instead of engaging with the reading they promised themselves publicly as a show of intellect, they choose to occupy their hours sending secret complaints to the warden, huff in frustration at marking boycotts, and get uncomfortable while swearing they're involved in all this and fully supporting it. Yet following lists, open letter signatures, and the things they mutter to each other paint a different picture. It is as if they know they are on the wrong side. They look left and right to see predominantly white middle-class faces like their own and prime ministers of conservative governments and think of it as some bizarre coincidence. They know they are wrong not to be reading, learning or keeping up to date which is why they maintain their opinions and feign progress until they are awkwardly called out or the simplest of questions peels off the scab.
“It’s [the occupation of the library] hindering students who have every right not to join the protest to do well in their end-of-year assignments!”—a message sent by one of the beloved October centrists. In a conversation that blew up into me confronting them for how they have treated several people, they hammered in that the student occupation of the library was unfair on themselves personally and other students like them. However, the occupation wasn't situated anywhere near the exam rooms nor on an exam day and was solely in the bottom floor front section of the library, where students are allowed to make as much racket as they want already, and people frequently do group projects there for this explicit reason. Anyone who has been to any library knows the bottom floor is always designated as the loud floor, and the higher up you go, the quieter it gets. Our library is quite impressive in size, so while unavoidable on the ways in and out, once you are inside, it was never going to be hard to find a spot to block them out. They did not know this, however, as it had never impacted them beyond hypotheticals in their head, and their argument wasn't dependent on having actually kept their eyes on what students were doing but rather finding anything to scream inconvenience at. All I could think was how funny that a student occupation of a library could be deemed as some unforgivable act because it impacts them directly, but a genocidal occupation in which their university has a hand in just isn't worth the time of day. The warden herself referred to the library occupation as something that ‘threatened’ students.
Let me conclude them with a different quote from the fictional Robin Swift from R.F. Kuang’s ‘Babel’ whose words perfectly encapsulate this ordeal.
“Across the town, students were fast asleep. Next to them, tomes by Plato and Locke and Montesquieu waited to be read, discussed, gesticulated about; theoretical rights like freedom and liberty would be debated between those who already enjoyed them, stale concepts that, upon their readers’ graduation ceremonies, would promptly be forgotten. That life, and all of its preoccupations, seemed insane to him now; he could not believe there was ever a time when his greatest concerns were what colour neckties to order from Randall’s, or what insults to shout at houseboats hogging the river during rowing practice. It was all such frippery, fluff, trivial distractions built over a foundation of ongoing, unimaginable cruelty.”
*the first conversation is paraphrased as best as I can remember it, as I do not record my conversations with people
#palestine#free gaza#free palestine#free falasteen#frances warden#goldsmiths university#golds#goldsmiths#gaza#goldsmiths university of london#university#uk universities#ucla#news update#centrist#centrism#rafah#babel rf kuang#rf kuang#all eyes on rafah#save palestine#save gaza#save rafah#free rafah#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#river to the sea#opinion piece#political corruption#stop the genocide#gaza genocide
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deep conversation prompts. accepting. @anxietytold : you inspire me every day, you know. from amber karev.
the laugh that escapes is almost humourless. " shit, i really hope that’s not true … i’m a fuckin’ disaster. " compliment is hard to swallow when they’ve just had to step over a passed out frank to reach the kitchen. fiona doesn’t see herself as someone to look to. she’d made too many mistakes, too many wrong turns. it used to be easy to blame genetics; hard to go anywhere in life when frank & monica are your only role models, but the older they all get, the more she starts to wonder if the problem runs deeper. maybe she just isn’t designed to be better. the still - warm leftovers brought home from patsy’s are set down on worn kitchen table and one yell of FOOD! up the stairs has footsteps stampeding above them. it’s always first come, first serve around here. gotta move fast. hands are quick to toss a cushion at the bottom of the laundry shoot, preparing for carl to take a shortcut if he thinks about it in time. fiona knew these kids all too well.
" you staying for dinner? " gaze turns back to amber and the question is posed in a way that sounds inviting. it isn’t an offer she extends easily. they had enough mouths to feed, however amber is always welcome. put it down to their families being kindred spirits drawn together by the common trauma of a shitty childhood. fiona knows alex is probably working late at the hospital & it’s not like they haven’t got enough to stretch to another plate. head nods towards the table, as if to offer further reassurance it was okay. she doesn’t sit herself. life never stopped and someone still needed to set the cutlery to stop her siblings eating with their damn fingers. " y’know, your brother is a surgeon. ⸻ i mean, he’s also a raging asshole when he wants to be. " the words aren’t said with any real mallice. if anything, there’s subtle admiration. good for him. not many people from their background went those kinda places. she just isn’t used to handing out compliments. people rarely do much to deserve them. " but he’s still a surgeon. that should inspire you. i can barely keep a rundown diner running. "
#anxietytold#the karevs and the gallaghers r the ULTIMATE needed xover#idk /where/ i was going with this#other than basing it anytime after s6/7 greys#in character. ⸻ conversations.#universes. ⸻ verse tbc.#out of character. ⸻ answered meme.
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Nostalgia
NOSTALGIA
I miss you. Not in the way you think, I've distanced myself from the person you once were so much that I can barely remember what it felt like when we were happy. No, I ache for the pain, the chaos that surrounded you and therefore by extension surrounded me. I ache for the uncertainty of being together in the eye of the storm, watching it all come to ruins as we stood there in eerie silence waiting for the storm that you were to take us with you.
I’m sure that if I could ask you today, you would say you went down so that we wouldn’t. That in your death, you took one for the team and freed us from the chains of your addiction but I disagree. I'm sorry, but you took us down with you. Actually, I think you dragged me further into the depths than them. See, they could still see some light above them that encouraged them to look up and forward, but not me. To my eyes your shadow was overpowering— you blinded me. For years I lived in it. In the darkness that flowed out of you and into me, I couldn't see much else. For years after you left it clung to me like a weirdly comforting ghost that I both resented and loved. see, that’s the irony of it. You destroyed me once, and I long for you to do it again. You taught me how to live in your chaos and now that you’re gone I don’t know how to live without it.
There's beauty and light and joy in my life but as I sit laughing with them at the dinner table that I used to associate with screams, I long for your anger. I was raised in it, you see. In this role of caretaker I never chose which you all assigned to me. I was your lifeline. Over and over again, I found you minutes from a death of your own making and got you to breathe again. Caring for you became who I was. School, friends, hobbies— they were
nothing but side quests in the real great purpose of my life: saving all of us. Every emergency injection of insulin, every call to the emergency number, every blackout I recounted to you the next morning, that’s what I existed for. Your very own home nurse, therapist, doctor, mother, punching bag, in the shape of a daughter.
On that fatal morning, I lost more than a father. I lost myself. All of me was based on you, and so in killing yourself, you killed me. You killed the girl I was and you left me to pick up the broken pieces of our family, once again. Eventually, they healed. They didn’t need me anymore, and obviously neither did you, and I became useless. I lived for you, and then I lived for them, and no one ever taught me how to live for myself.
You can’t destroy me anymore. Your overpowering shadow has almost been reduced to dust thanks to ssris and hours of therapy which I worked so hard for. Now that you’re gone, that the flashbacks and nightmares have stopped, that I don't jump at every loud sound, I miss the pain. I miss the fear, the tears, the screams, because back then I was still trying. I still had something to try for, and I still thought maybe if I loved you hard enough I would succeed.
Soon, it’ll be three years since I failed. I've built a new life for myself, I've found new people to live for including myself and yet if I were to find a lamp I could rub for a wish, I would beg the genie to let me try again. I would spend the rest of my life drowning in your pain if it meant I could be near you again. But genies don’t exist, neither does time travel, and so I'm stuck with your absence, mourning for your neglect and your abuse.
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back up.
---♡---
pairing: rintaro suna x female reader
genre: dark, angst, (slight) enemies to comfort, some comedy in the beginning. // one shot, 3.9k words
synopsis: being the younger sister of the miya twins definitely has its advantages and its... disadvantages. sure, it comes with all of the teasing from both them and their friends, but it gets more serious when people hold grudges on them and try to take out their anger on you.
content warnings: descriptions of assault, threats, sexual assault (no penetration), violence, injuries
---♡---
“Osamu!” You screeched, attempting to push your older brother off of you. “Get him off!”
Atsumu had tackled you to the ground and was sitting on your back, cackling with satisfaction as he pinned you down.
“I can’t help ya.” Osamu smirked as he walked by. He sat on the couch adjacent to you and Atsumu with an amused glimmer in his eyes. “Shouldn’t have eaten his pudding.”
“Why do you care if I eat his pudding?!” You growled, thrashing around under Atsumu to get some kind of leverage while he sat on you with all of his weight, rendering your limbs useless.
“If you eat his pudding, then he eats mine.” Osamu shrugged, “And I hate it when he does that.”
“Take it up with him! I just grabbed whatever was closest. You guys are so weird with your labeled food!” You tried to throw a punch at Atsumu and he caught your fist easily, snickering when you let out a loud whine. “Atsumu, get OFF!”
“No can do, kiddo.” He grinned, “Ya know what happens when you eat our food.”
“I’m gonna tell mom.” You mumbled.
“That’s dirty. Don’t bring mom into this.” Osamu interrupted and you shot a death glare at him.
“Stop involving yourself! I don’t need your commentary.”
“Don’t be such a tattle tale.” Atsumu teased, finally easing up on you and taking a bit of the weight off of your back. You gasped dramatically as you could finally take a full, deep breath.
“Thank you, god. You’re heavy.” You said quietly, deciding to fully submit and just lay down on the living room floor.
“Did you just call me fat?!” Atsumu gasped, crawling over to your face to look you in the eyes.
“Yes.” You nodded. Atsumu immediately turned to Osamu, who burst out laughing at his offended expression.
“Laugh it up, ‘Samu. If I’m fat then so are you.” Atsumu muttered as he finally stood up to take a seat next to Osamu on the couch.
“I can’t stand either of you.” You mumbled, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at them.
“Why’s baby Miya throwing a temper tantrum?” A familiar, monotone voice was coming from the entry way. You hadn’t even heard him come in.
“None of your business, Suna.” You glared at the tall boy. He responded with a crooked smirk while he walked in with his hands plunged deep in his pockets.
Suna was over at your house almost every day. He also teased you as much as your brothers did, if not more.
“Jeez, what’s with the attitude?” He snorted, “You sound like Atsumu. I swear you’re triplets.”
Suna jumped over the back of the couch and plopped down between the twins. You sat up, looking at the three of them for a second before getting up and retreating to your room.
“Aw, come on baby Miya. Where are you going?” Suna called after you while you walked down the hallway.
“I need to get ready. I’m going out tonight.”
You retreated to your bedroom and sat down at your vanity. Before you could even pull out a hair brush, Osamu had burst into your bedroom.
“Where ya going?” He asked, leaning against the doorway.
“Out?” You replied, getting up to sift through your closet for something to wear.
Your friend had set you up on a blind date tonight. Your mom had held your brothers back a year and since you were only 10 months apart, you were all in the same year. This meant you all had the same classmates, knew all of the same people, and they were constantly in your business.
When your friend had told you about this guy, he sounded too good to be true. He had gone to another school that was a bit further away, but since you had all graduated a few months prior you figured a bit of distance wasn’t that big of a deal. After all, you were all adults now.
“Out where?” Atsumu asked, pushing the door open all the way and standing against the other side of the frame.
“On a date…” you muttered. The moment you said that, your brothers came in and promptly sat on your bed.
“Where are you going?”
“With who?”
“Where did you meet him?”
“How old is he?”
“Is he picking you up?”
“How long have you known him for?”
“Oh my god.” You groaned, pointing at your door. “Can you guys get out? I need to get ready. Why are you asking so many questions?”
“Believe it or not, kiddo, we just want to make sure you’re safe.” Osamu said, standing up and walking over to pat you on your head.
“Ugh, ‘Samu, you guys don’t have to treat me like a kid still. I’m an adult now, you know.” You said, crossing your arms.
“But you’ll always be our little sister.” Atsumu smiled. “Mom can’t keep track of all of us all the time. So we need to do it for her.” His words were genuine. Even though the three of you bickered and teased each other, you were protective of each other. You knew your brothers would do anything for you.
You’d never tell them, but you’d do anything for them, too.
“If anyone needs keeping track of, it’s you two.” You smirked. Atsumu rolled his eyes and Osamu shrugged you off.
Your brothers tried to pry more information out of you, but you only told them the bare minimum. After all, you barely even knew anything. You didn’t even know his name.
“So? Where’s she going?” Suna asked as the twins came back into the living room. He was sprawled out on the couch and flicking through the tv channels.
“That restaurant downtown. The one a few bus stops before your house.” Atsumu said with crossed arms. “She won’t let us drive her.”
“I’ll take the bus with her.” Suna shrugged, “It’s on the way, so I’ll make sure she gets there safely.”
“Good. Then you can tell us who she’s meetin’ there.” Osamu smirked.
Whether or not Osamu had asked, Suna was planning on finding that out regardless.
“Call is if you need anythin’!” Atsumu called to you as you walked to the door.
“We’ll come! Just call us, okay?” Osamu added.
“I’ll be fine, but thanks. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.” You said loud enough for them to hear you in the other room. “Love you.”
“Love ya!” They replied in unison.
—
“Are you sure you’re not just spying on me?” You mumbled just loud enough for Suna to hear you from the seat behind you.
“Just decided to go home, baby Miya.” He replied, leaning forward. “Why? Do you want me to spy on you?”
“No!” You turned around and squinted your eyes at him. He looked back at you with a playful smirk and then went back to paying attention to his phone.
You got off the bus and hesitated for a moment, half expecting Suna to get off after you.
Except he didn’t.
You sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up and realizing you really were all alone now. Meeting a man you didn’t know, and unsure of what to expect.
You looked around and pulled out your phone to check the message from your friend again to refresh yourself on the characteristics of your blind date.
Dark hair, about 5’10, dark green eyes, ah-
“Miya, is it?” A man fitting the exact description was standing in front of you, a rose in hand and suspicious smirk across his lips.
“Yes, sorry, what’s your name?” Your voice was trembling and you had no idea why. You chalked it up to nerves, but it might’ve been the uneasiness you’d felt when you made eye contact with him.
“Daishou Suguru.” He said melodically. He handed you the rose and lightly pressed his hand to your lower back. “Shall we go inside? I have a table for us.”
You nodded, walking inside with him.
——
“So, Miya, any relation to those twins?” He asked, leaning in with his chin on his palm. He stared at you intently as if he wanted to soak in every word you were about to say.
“Oh, yeah. They’re my brothers.” You smiled. Even though they irritated you, you always liked to talk about them. You were proud of your brothers and all of their accomplishments, and talking about them was easier than having to come up with things to say about yourself.
“Ah,” Daishou nodded, thanking the server as she passed your dishes to the two of you. “Those two are real shit talkers, huh?”
“Yeah,” you laughed, a bit too casually for the occasion and realized you’d never even heard this guy’s name prior to tonight. “Wait, why do you say that?”
You were familiar with pretty much all of the volleyball players that your brothers had faced off against. Inarizaki’s own team were like family, but the other teams were around so often you’d gotten to know quite a few of the players from other schools just by going to the games and tournaments.
“Played against them once.” Daishou mumbled, the previously warm expression in his eyes was gone. “I don’t know which one I hate more. The mouthy setter or the spiker with the ego.”
You got goosebumps when he spoke these words. These weren’t normal rivalry grudges. This sounded like pure, unprecedented hatred.
You started to feel uncomfortable.
You hummed in acknowledgement. You weren’t sure how to reply, but you wanted him to know you’d heard him and were listening.
“So, how are you going to make it up to me?” Daishou asked. You froze, looking up at him.
His previously cold expression was warm again, cheeks round with a big smile. “I’m kidding.”
“Oh,” you giggled nervously and decided to focus on eating your dinner.
The rest of the evening went by okay. Little comments like that would have you unsure if there were ulterior motives, but when you’d try to look into it you’d see a happy smile from your date. Maybe he really was just joking, and was nervously trying to make you laugh.
When it was time to go, Daishou paid for the both of you and you left the restaurant together.
It was dark outside and pouring rain. You sighed, looking down the street at the empty bus stop. The bus wouldn’t be coming for another 20 minutes.
“Let me wait with you for the bus.” He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist again. “I wouldn’t want you out here all alone.”
You reluctantly accepted but tried to keep your distance. While his arm was around you, your arms were crossed and you were trying to stay as far from him as possible. Something was off, and you wanted to get as far away from him as quickly as possible.
You sent your brothers a quick text to let them know which bus you’d be on.
“Let’s wait over here. Out of the rain.”
Before you could reply, he grabbed your hand and yanked you down a small alley. It was covered by the overhead of the buildings roof, but was pitch black.
“I had a nice time tonight.” Daishou purred, pressing his body against you and trapping you against the cold brick wall.
“Yeah, me too…” You said quietly.
Only a few more minutes.
Daishou leaned down, trailing his hand up your chest and wrapping his long fingers around your throat. Your breath hitched and you felt tears well up in your eyes. You knew something was wrong. You knew something was going to happen. Your gut feeling was never wrong.
You tensed up, preparing to punch him the moment you felt pressure from his fingers. Instead of choking you, however, his hand rested gingerly on your skin and he leaned down to kiss you.
You kissed back, completely uninterested but not wanting him to know that.
“So, you are easy.” He smirked against your lips. He grabbed your hands and held them against the wall. His tongue started to force its way into your mouth and as you tried to break away, his body pressed into you harder, making you unable to move.
“Please stop,” you whimpered, “I don’t- I don’t want this.”
“Just relax.” He dug his fingers into your wrist, holding both of your hands together with just one of his, and using his free hand to move down your body and fondle your chest.
“Daishou- I-“ you gasped when he bit down on your neck. It didn’t feel good at all, and was just a swearing pain.
“You know, it really is a shame that you’re related to those two.” He muttered against your skin. “You’re a pretty girl. Probably would’ve liked you had your shitty brothers not have been such dicks.”
“Please, please just get off-“ You sniffled. You fought your brothers all the time, so why couldn’t you get him off? Why were you tensing up? Why were you crying? Just push him off, just push and run.
“Shut up.” He muttered. He slipped his hand into your pants and you let out a sob.
“No, no! Get off of me! Stop!” You were crying now, your voice getting louder as you attempted to break from his hold.
Unfortunately, he was just too strong for you. He smacked you across the face and pressed his palm to your mouth.
“I told you to shut up.” He growled. “Blame the twins for this.”
You were sobbing now. Completely terrified as this man assaulted your body in this dark alley and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to get out of there. How badly you wished your brothers had spied on you, how much you wanted them to protect you in that moment.
Daishou glared at you as your wails got louder, pulling back and slapping you across the face so hard you thought you were seeing stars.
“That’s what happens when stupid girls like you don’t listen. Now be quiet!”
Your vision was blurred and dark and you thought you were about to pass out when you felt the weight of his body completely lifted off of you.
You immediately felt relief, not in the form of safety by any means but you felt like you could somewhat breathe again. The blow he’d given you to the head had you feeling dizzy and you sunk to the ground against the wall.
“You fucking-“ *whack*
“piece-“ *whack*
“of shit!” *whack*
You squinted your eyes open at the familiar voice. The same voice that had annoyed you earlier that afternoon. The voice that immediately gave you a sense of safety in that dark alley.
“Suna..?” You barely managed to squeak out. You were sure he didn’t hear you considering you could barely hear your own voice.
“You’re going to regret this for the rest of your life.” Suna spat, landing another punch directly to his face. “If you have issues with someone, take it up with them like a fucking man.” He growled. “Instead of preying on their little sister. You’re pathetic.”
Suna stood up off the ground and all you could do was watch through squinted eyes and your knees pulled to your chest.
He pulled something out of his pocket, it shined under the street lamps and you weren’t sure what it was. He grabbed Daishou by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to stand up before pressing the object against his throat.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right here.”
You closed your eyes, covering your face in your arms when you heard Daishou start to sob. He sounded like you did a few minutes ago.
“I’d go to jail for her, no questions asked. Trust me when I tell you that I won’t hesitate.”
Suna was much bigger than him. Stronger. Taller.
“Hey,” Suna growled, pushing him against the brick wall. Daishou looked as light as a rag doll when Suna was throwing him around. “Answer me when I’m talking to you.”
“Please- I don’t- I’m sorry-“ Daishou choked out.
Suna laughed. A completely genuine laugh that made your skin crawl.
“Are you? Are you sorry?”
You looked back up at the two men, closer to you now and you could see that the object Suna had against his throat was a knife.
“Suna, wait-“ You tried to say to him, but your voice was still shaky and quiet.
Daishou was sobbing now, tears flowing from his eyes and wails ripping from his throat.
“Not so tough when you’re the one on the receiving end, huh?” Suna glared, putting his knife back in his pocket and throwing Daishou back onto the ground.
“Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.” Suna said in a dark, low tone you hadn’t heard from him before. “And if you ever come near her again, I really will kill you.”
Daishou scrambled to his feet, holding his head and trying to stop the bleeding on his face that was surely from one of the rings Suna was wearing on his fingers.
You trembled against the wall, staring at Suna’s back as he watched Daishou leave. As soon as he was out of eyesight, he quickly turned to you and crouched down.
“Hey, it’s okay.” His voice softened, his gaze was kind and he hesitated before touching you. “Can I help you up? Can you stand?”
You nodded weakly and he crouched down, putting his arms under yours and standing you up. You could feel your legs wobbling and held onto his arm for support.
“Ugh,” He sighed, the pain in his voice coming through when he saw the true damage that’d been done to you. His hands carefully put you back together as best he could. He buttoned your shirt and pants back up, and shrugged off his jacket to put it on you instead.
You grabbed onto the sleeves and pulled them over your hands. It was even bigger than your brothers’ jackets, and you sunk into the soft material trying to grasp onto any little piece of comfort you could get.
Suna picked you up and held you against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he supported you from under your legs.
“How did you know where to find me?” You asked, your voice still quiet and strained.
“They told me what bus you were taking home so I came to make sure you got on okay. When it came and left without you I got worried and looked around, and then I heard you crying.” Suna let out a stressed out breath, “You know, I really would’ve done it.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” You said, closing your eyes. You couldn’t even process what had just happened and didn’t know what you would’ve done if Suna wasn’t with you right now.
——
Suna’s house was only down the road, and you agreed to go there and get cleaned up before heading back home.
“Here,” Suna handed you a pair of comfortable pants and a t-shirt. “They’ll be way too long on you, but it’s better than your soaking wet clothes you’re wearing now.”
“Thanks…” you accepted the offer, stepping into the bathroom to change.
When you came out, Suna had changed too, but his eyes widened with shock when he saw the extent of your injuries.
He swore under his breath and approached you. When he reached out and touched your neck, his cool hand soothed the sting of the deep bite Daishou had embedded in your neck.
“Can’t believe he fucking bit you.” Suna’s voice was so quiet he was practically whispering, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just thinking out loud. He trailed his hand around your throat and pressed his fingers on the deep bruises forming from when you’d been choked.
“That helps,” you sighed, leaning into his touch. Suna pulled his hand back as if he wasn’t even aware he’d been touching you.
“What do you want to do now? Should we call Osamu and Atsumu? Want me to take you home?” He placed his hands on your shoulders and continued looking you over. Suna brushed your hair out of the way, inspecting your face closely and grunting when he looked straight on at the black eye starting to appear.
You winced when his thumb grazed over the side of your head and he immediately pulled back.
“You were hit really hard. You should go to the hospital.”
You shook your head. “I don’t… I don’t want to go anywhere. Not right now, anyway.” You stepped over to his bed, sitting on the edge. “Can I just lie down?”
Suna nodded and pulled the blankets open, gesturing for you to crawl into his bed. He pulled the blankets on top of you and patted your arm.
“I’m just going to go into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I’ll shut the light off so you can rest a bit.”
The moment you couldn’t feel his presence in the room anymore, your mind travelled back to where you were earlier that night. Being attacked in a dark alley and suddenly you were feeling suffocated.
You sat up, gasping for air and Suna ran in, turning the light on and sitting next to you.
“Its okay, it’s okay,” He murmured, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into him. He stroked your hair and let you cry out your fear as long as you needed to.
“I don’t…” You sniffled, “I don’t know what happened. When you left I just felt so scared all over again.”
“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, pressing his cheek against the top of your hair.
“Please don’t leave me alone.”
Suna nodded and stood up to go turn the light off again.
“Wait, where are you going?” You felt the panic start to take over again when the bed dipped down beside you.
“I’m right here.” His voice was kind. The Suna you’d known to always tease and annoy you had been replaced by something you could only describe as being your safety net.
Maybe this side of him was always here, and you just hadn’t ever noticed.
You laid back down beside him, moving close and nuzzling into his chest just like you had when he was carrying you. He wrapped his arms around you and softly trailed his hand up and down your back.
“I’ve got you, okay?” He whispered, “You’re safe with me. I promise. Just try and get some rest and we can worry about everything in the morning. You’ve been through enough tonight.”
You nodded and felt the relief wash over you. You knew you had a lot to deal with tomorrow, but having Suna by your side made it seem a little less scary.
Thinking back, he always was by your side. He would defend you when the twins would get too rough, and was definitely guilty of giving guys an intimidating glare when they’d try to hit on you.
You sighed, soaking in the feeling of his warmth.
You knew that from them on, you wanted nothing more than to be on his side.
And for him to stay on yours.
#rintaro suna angst#rintaro suna#rintaro suna x reader#suna x reader#suna angst#suna comfort#suna one shot#haikyuu angst#haikyuu comfort#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu drabble#suna drabble#miya twins#osamu miya#miya osamu#miya#osamu#atsumu#atsumu miya#miya atsumu#atsumu miya angst#atsumu angst#osamu miya angst#miya twins angst#suna fluff#haikyuu headcanon#daishou angst#haikyuu#haikyu angst#yandere haikyuu
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HERE, IN THE MORNING LIGHT, IS WHERE WE’LL BARE OUR SOULS
pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader
words: 3.2k
excerpt: Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less.
a/n: this is...a bit too similar to my bakugou drabble i’ll admit. but i could see a relationship with ushijima having some of the same problems. he’s not purposely cruel, but god, doesn’t that just make it so much worse?
tags: angst, mentions of alcohol, implied sex, reader is full of rage, ambiguous/open ending
in case you want to read it on ao3!
You greet Toshi at the door, as you’ve made a habit of doing when he manages to come home before you’ve fallen asleep.
(Like a well-trained dog, you think, with only the most bitter sort of amusement.)
When you lift your hand up to cup his face, a sweet hello, love, how was your day? on your lips, he sweeps it aside (gently, of course. He's always so sickeningly gentle when he brushes you aside. You think that might just make the hollow sting of his nonchalant rejection that much worse.)
“Have you made anything for dinner?” he asks, already walking away before you have a chance to pull him down for a kiss. Your arm falls unceremoniously at your side. A deadweight, swinging.
I think I might hate you, you want to say, so, so badly. The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue as you stand frozen in the darkened entryway, his shadow stretches, eclipsing you, as he walks further and further away.
But these moments of sweet burning-hot rage pass as quickly as they come and soon -- too soon, maybe, or not soon enough -- you find yourself turning on your heels and shining a too-bright smile, the one that shows too many teeth and leaves an ache in your cheeks.
“Not yet, love, but I can whip up something real quick.”
The words taste like lead in your mouth.
(Or maybe that's just the blood from biting your tongue.)
Who knows, you muse, bitterly, bitingly. What does it matter anyway?
You make your way towards the kitchen.
+
Later that night, after he’s finished fucking you into the mattress, he grunts out an I love you, before rolling over and promptly falling asleep.
His cum is sticky and uncomfortable as it cools on your burning thighs.
You stare at the lights sweeping across the ceiling from the passing cars and try to remember days when you didn’t feel as though someone had hollowed out everything that made you and filled in the empty space with barely contained rage.
Rationally, you know you weren’t always so unhappy with Ushijima. You loved him -- you still do -- you have for years. You could barely contain your tears of joy when he asked you to marry him and you didn’t manage to contain them at all the day you officially tied the knot.
You were so happy then. So, so, happy.
What happened?
(You know exactly what happened.)
You’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice for him. Moved from country to country. Left your family and friends behind more times than you can count. Because you love Toshi. Because you love him more than anything. And because he loves you, though you know he doesn’t love you more than anything. It’s a selfish gripe to have. A rather dumb one too. Of course he doesn’t love you more than volleyball. Why should he? He’s dedicated his whole life to the sport. Countless hours, countless injuries, and setbacks, and he’s persevered through it all because that's what he does. Because that sport, that court, that stupid fucking ball, is what he loves above all else.
It’s not as if you jumped into this marriage wholly and totally blind. You’re not dumb. You knew volleyball was going to be a priority in his life, the priority. And you thought you could handle that. You did handle it. For 5 years you’ve handled it, the constant moving, the last minute canceled plans, the weeks of him traveling that have left you all alone for near months at a time in a cold home with a cold bed. You’ve handled it all with a too-wide smile plastered painfully across your face.
But things have -- shifted, recently. Maybe it’s the pressure of what could very well be his last Olympics coming up in these next few years, maybe it’s the fear of someone younger, better, stronger than him taking his place, or maybe, he simply doesn’t give all that much of a fuck about you anymore.
(You know that’s not true. Wakatoshi loves you. You know that. Which is what makes this all so much worse.)
I love you, isn’t that enough? he’d said bluntly, and maybe a bit confused, last time you brought up your concerns after the third canceled date in a row.
His words had made you pause. Was it enough? Why isn’t it enough? Shouldn’t it be enough?
At the time, you’d thought, maybe. Maybe I can make it enough.
A year later and you’ve come to the realization that it simply -- isn’t enough. Maybe if you were a different person, a slightly better person, it’d be enough. But you’re not. You’re you, a strange, toxic concoction of hollow fury and selfish desires (for comfort, for love, for anything more than whatever this is).
You roll over on your side to face your husband. He’s on his back, like he always is when he sleeps, completely dead to the world.
He’s statuesque, unmovable, untouchable, even now.
You gently brush your finger over his brow, sweeping his hair to the side, and tracing his strong jawline. You’ve done this a thousand times. You’ve memorized every curve, every freckle, every scar. You’ve mapped countless constellations across his skin.
You don’t hate him, you realize, in the dark suffocating silence of the night. Not yet, at least. There’s still too much love for him in your heart. Still too many memories of brighter days. Sweeter days. Gentler days.
He’s been good to you. As good as a man like him is capable of being. And you love him so, so dearly for it.
He has tomorrow off, maybe -- maybe you should talk to him. There’s still time to salvage this. There’s still so much love for him in your heart, enough to drive out the hate. You know it.
He has tomorrow off, you repeat to yourself. The first full day he’s taken off in a month.
You’ll talk to him then.
You have to.
+
The morning light is what wakes you. The gentle rays kiss your cheeks so sweetly.
Without fully opening your eyes, you reach towards Ushi only to be met with -- cool sheets.
Your stomach drops painfully and it's as though he’s taken your heart in his hands and just squeezed.
You open your eyes, wearily, tiredly, and the morning light no longer seems so sweet. It’s mocking. A cruel, bitter reminder of better days and broken promises.
You crawl out of bed, trying to stay optimistic -- maybe he just went for a morning jog -- even though you know that on days he has off he likes to sleep in. You try desperately to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he promised and you want so badly to still be able to believe him, even after everything.
He used to have every Saturday and Sunday free, then around three years ago it turned into every Sunday, then a year and a half ago it turned into every other Sunday, and recently -- well, it’s been a while. A long, long while.
But he promised he’d stay home today.
He promised, you repeat as you stumble around the apartment only to find it painfully silent, empty, and so, so cold.
You collapse on the couch, hunched over, your head hanging pitifully into your hands. You take a deep, pathetically shaky breath.
And then you laugh.
You laugh so hard you nearly heave.
Two years ago, you would’ve cried. A year ago, you would’ve screamed.
But now? Who do you really have to blame, but yourself? How can you not laugh? How can you not laugh at just how stupid and gullible you are?
Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less.
This is your fault. And it has been for a long while now.
It’s time to move on.
+
You book a one-way flight home -- you haven’t been back in so long. Too long, you know. You stuff as much as you can into your single suitcase and pitiful carry-on bag. It’s all strangely methodical and robotic. You’re calmer than you’ve been in months.
This is how it was always going to end. Honestly, you don’t think there was really supposed to be another option, any other way out. You don’t think this mess was ever going to be fixed. It was stupid of you to ever believe otherwise.
By the time you’ve managed to compose yourself, get your affairs in order, and meticulously pack away as much as you can, the sun has started to dip below the horizon.
The clock reads 9:18 PM. Your flight is in a few hours. You’ll have to get going soon.
You pick out the nicest, most expensive bottle of red wine in your home. You were going to save it for when Ushi made the national team again but, as you’ve learned rather painfully, sometimes plans change.
You pour yourself a glass, but in the end, can’t bring yourself to take a single sip.
That’s how Ushi finds you, sitting at the kitchen table, toying with a glass of wine. There’s only the lone kitchen light lit in the apartment. The shadows dance around him, dark and monstrous, ready to swallow you both whole.
Wakatoshi has never been particularly skilled at reading social cues but you can tell from the slight tilt of his head that he knows somethings wrong. You wonder if he knows exactly how wrong.
(Not that it would really change anything if he did.)
The thud of his gym bag hitting the floor echoes too loudly in the silent apartment.
He steps into the kitchen like he does all other things -- with purpose, with confidence. It will never not leave you in awe, even now, how sure he always is of himself. He’s a blunt force weapon, he always has been, and you can’t imagine a time where he’ll be anything but.
He stops at the opposite end of the table. It’s the beginning of the same song and dance you two have done time and time again when he breaks his little promises.
His big ones too.
(You think of when he had missed your five-year anniversary dinner for a last-minute practice. He hadn’t forgotten about the reservation, he’d told you after he’d returned home to you sitting alone at the kitchen table, half-drunk and livid, but people were relying on him, is what he’d said, and there’s always next year.)
This routine is comforting, if only in the cruelest way.
We can put on a show, just this last time, you think. For old time’s sake.
Your eyes fall back down to your glass as you speak. “You said you’d stay home today.”
You look back up just in time to see him opening his mouth. No doubt getting ready to cycle through the same set of excuses he’s been using for the past four years.
A teammate called.
I needed the extra practice.
There’s a skill I need to perfect.
The Olympics are 4 years away...3 years away...2 years away....you know that, love.
And, of course, no matter his reason, his excuse, he always makes sure to add, I’ll stay home next Sunday, I promise.
He doesn’t intend for that last part to be cruel, you’re sure of it, but God, if that doesn’t make it so much worse.
You cut him off before he can even start. “You promised.”
His brows furrow at your exhausted, weary tone. “There was a team meeting today, I’m sorry I forgot to mention it to you. It went on longer than I expected it would. We can still go out to dinner if you’d like.”
You give him a sad sort of smile. You’re too tired to give him any other. “I don’t think I’ll have time for that, love.”
Ushijima’s left brow twitches, as it always does when he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on.
He takes a step forward, around the table. “What do you mean? Are you going out tonight?”
You shake your head softly. “No, Toshi.”
You can’t help but wish more than anything, that it didn’t have to come to this, because you have loved him so much, so deeply, and you think that for it to end like this is a disservice to you both.
His jaw clenches, no doubt already trying to contain his frustration. He’s probably tired after his long day. An argument over something like this is probably the last thing he wants. A good wife would care more. A good wife might’ve persevered, smiled through her husband's little lies and shattered promises. A good wife might’ve tried harder. A good wife might’ve dug her heels in, instead of letting go completely.
But you’re not a good wife. Not now, at least. For all you know, you never were. You’ve always been just a bit too bitter, too selfish, too flawed. Not willing enough to throw yourself on the metaphorical altar for him.
He’s close enough now that he can see the suitcase at your side. It stops him dead in his tracks.
“What’s going on?” His tone is hard, demanding, but you know him too well to miss the fear that pulls at the corner of his eyes.
Ushijima Wakatoshi is a lot of things. But he’s certainly not dumb. He has to know what’s going on. He has to have known that, eventually, this was what was going to happen.
You stand up slowly, bracing your palms against the rough wood of the tabletop.
���I-” you let out a harsh, mean breath. You hate that you’re doing this. But you’d hate yourself more if you didn’t. And you know you’d grow to hate him too, eventually, if you stay. You’re burning up here in this home, each broken promise and cold night add fuel to the already raging fire. You’ll be nothing but ashes soon enough. “I can’t do this anymore, Wakatoshi.”
His pretty olive eyes narrow. The look he gives you is practically glacial. His fury has always been so, so cold. A stark contrast to your burning rage.
He takes a deep breath. “I don’t understand.” His words are slow, methodical, and too even.
They crack open something violent inside your chest, something with teeth. Something mean and ugly and so, so sad.
Too many years of biting your tongue have culminated into this moment. It’s time to strip yourself to the bone, to the ugly marrow. No matter how painful or awful.
Don’t you two deserve that, at least? Don’t you two deserve to part ways having seen the worst of each other?
“Of course you don’t understand, Ushijima,” you spit out, caustic and cruel. “How can you?” The laugh you let out is ripped from the very bottom of your heart, mean and poisonous. “Or more accurately, why would you? Why would you even bother understanding? It’s not like my unhappiness has ever really meant anything to you before-”
He cuts in sharply. “You know that’s not true.”
“No,” you hiss. “I don’t. How can I? I’ve been miserable for years now, left to beg for scraps of your attention like a fucking dog. I’ve reduced myself to this pathetic creature. I-” tears cloud your vision, far faster than you can blink them away. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore, Ushijima. I’m so--I’m so angry all the time and if I stay here that’s going to be all that’s left of me.”
It’s silent after your outburst and in the air is something awful and too great. You’re both teetering on the edge of something terrifying.
“If you stay with me, you mean,” he says, finally, and far too soft for a man like him. All signs of his previous fury have fled and in his eyes is a painful sort of vulnerability.
Your anger dissipates with his, mostly because you’re so fucking tired of being angry.
Is it really his fault, anyway? What exactly were you expecting of him, when you took his last name? Were you really wanting him to change something so fundamental, so ingrained in his soul, just for you? How unfair of you, you realize now, how cruel.
“Toshi.” You’re exhausted. And so sick of being second best. “This is more my fault than it is yours. I thought I could handle what being married to you would entail but I was,” -- you laugh, far less biting than before-- “very wrong.” You close your eyes, unable to look at him. “And now I suppose we’re both paying the price for it.”
“I love you,” he says, bluntly. “And you love me.”
You’re finally able to meet his eyes again. You take in the planes of his face, the subtle pain etched into every corner, a brutal, beautiful reflection of the years you’ve spent by his side.
“I do love you, Ushijima. More than anything.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
You swallow hard. “Sometimes, that just isn’t enough, Toshi. Relationships require more than love. They require work, and compromise, and some semblance of care and dedication, and you just-- you just don’t have the time for that right now, and I understand that. But I can’t keep doing this to myself. I deserve-” you stop and give yourself a moment to choose your words carefully, lovingly because you’re desperate for him to just understand. “We deserve better, don’t you think?”
He shakes his head, his hair falls in his eyes. You sweep it aside, a force of habit after all these years, something you’ve done a million and one times. Before you can jerk your arm back he grips it in his large hand. His fingers wrap around your wrist, unyielding.
“I need you,” Toshi says, uncharacteristically desperate. You can feel the heat radiating off his chest. It's a twisted sort of comfort. Knowing this may very well be the last time you’ll be in this position.
You smile, sweetly and a bit sadly. “No, you don’t, Ushi. You need volleyball. You need the thrill of the game and the taste of victory but you don’t need me. You’ve never needed me. And that’s okay.” You lift your other hand up to brush the stray tear that’s fallen from his eye. He nuzzles into your palm before you can move it, clinging to you like some sort of lifeline. “It’ll be okay, Toshi, we’ve just reached the end of our road. That’s all.”
He raises a shaky hand to trace the dried tracks of tears on your cheek, it’s startling to see him so uncomposed. “Please,” he nearly begs, “don’t do this.”
In your heart, there’s an odd brew of grief and rage and pain and love so mean you know you’ll feel the ache of it for years to come.
You think of all the shattered promises he’s left at your feet, you think of the gentle way he’s held you through the years, you think of his string of nonchalant rejection, you think of yourself, bright and burning.
Your mind spins from it and all you can do is rest your head against his chest and close your eyes.
a/n pt 2: there is some untapped potential in the fed up housewife genre and i am determined to unearth it. also i love ushi i promise i think he’d be a great husband under most circumstances
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#ushijima x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#haikyuu angst#hq#hq x reader#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu scenarios#ushijima x y/n#ushijima x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#vicwrites#vicwriteshq
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Johnny Cade X Reader *SMUT*
Warnings: Your first time with Johnny Cade
Irresistible
The feeling of Johnny's touch always lingered on your skin, his burning touch sent sensations that ran through your veins in such a way. It left goosebumps on your skin, the kind of goosebumps that only Johnny could give you.
The sensation was almost like nothing you had ever felt before, his touch only ever made your skin burn with anticipation in the best way possible. It made your heart race ten times the normal speed.
Your pupils would dilate times ten, so much so that your eyes would cloud up with love and lust only towards Johnny. Your cheeks would brighten from the inside effect he could cause. Your chest would tighten from anticipation and excitement. Every part of you felt like it was on fire just by Johnny lightly caressing your skin.
You didn't know this, but your touch did the exact same for Johnny Cade. His moans and drawn out whimpers would let anyone know how desperate he was for your touch. The same tingling sensation would run through his veins causing him to let out a strain of moans from the contact of just your finger tips or your lips in contact with the sensitive skin on his neck.
You and Johnny had never had sex before, the farthest you both had went were intimate make outs. You hadn't even seen each other naked yet, for Johnny the farthest he's ever went was sliding his hands under your shirt and resting them on yours hips; not wanting to go any further incase you go uncomfortable.
For you the farthest you went with Johnny was grinding against him, Johnny was to shy to ask for anything and he was to shy to do something about it. He didn't want to go over boundaries, and sometimes he was too afraid to ask so you both would just end the make out with slow pecks and hand movements.
Neither you or Johnny were experienced, so when it finally did happen it would be both of your firsts. The Curtis's were having a family dinner with the whole gang, and being apart of the gang with Johnny they insisted you both came and stayed for their annual family dinner.
Johnny agreed but only if you were going, you agreed as well wanting to spend time with your second family. Well technically they would be more like your first since you barley seen your real family, they were always gone on job trips or vacation. You were happy that they didn't drag you alone to say the least, that meant you got to spend extra time with Johnny.
The times your parents weren't home which would usually be all the time; as of now your parents were home but resting for a trip they had planned the next day ahead. During these times when your parents weren't home you would take Johnny in and let him stay with you, you'd feed him, let him take showers, wash his clothes, and let him sleep in your room with you with the price of cuddles of course.
Both you and Johnny entered the Curtis's cozy home, everyone greeted you both with warm welcoming smiles and greetings. As always Darry came out of the kitchen wearing an old apron, drying his wet hands on the apron that rested around his waist as he let out a warm smile "make yourselves' at home" He tilts his head to the unoccupied couch.
You grabbed Johnny's hand with a warm smile and walked over to the couch, after greeting everyone yourselves you and Johnny take a seat close by. The room was always a bit tight considering there was only two rocking chairs, a love seat that could hold four people and a coffee table.
You sat closer to the arm of the couch, Johnny sitting so close to you your arms and legs were touching. Not that you minded, but his touch always just seemed to make your body light up in flames. A small blush covers your cheeks as the small sounds of Mickey Mouse playing ignited the room.
Two-bit sat on the floor as always, with a whole chocolate cake also not surprisingly; he always spoiled his dinner first as Darry would like to call it. You interlocked you and Johnny's hand together, resting both your intwined hands on the middle of your leg but still super close to your thigh.
Your exposed legs and his touch only made your skin burn more with anticipation, you decided it would be a good day to wear your flowered skirt that went just past your mid thigh. Since it was a hot and sunny day out, you also matched it with a black tank top that had a string tied in the middle way of your chest, with your worn out white converses.
Now you were starting to rethink the whole skirt idea, but maybe it would come in handy later on. Soon Dallas entered the house and all of a sudden the once small, quite house was now full of laughter and small talk.
Soon dinner was ready and Darry was calling everybody in the kitchen, Pony boy was setting the plates and silverware. Steve grabbed a few extra chairs for everyone and made room at the table, Darry had made his famous mash potatoes, steak, and vegetables; everyone's favorite.
Everyone over flooded their plates seeing as Darry made enough for three and a half families. You were seated next to Johnny on your left and Pony boy on your right. Everyone said grace before digging in and stuffing their faces with delight.
"This is really somethin' Darr" Dallas complimented with his face full, as everyone followed behind with praises and thank you's of the food.
Darry responded with a simple 'Thank you' in return before stuffing his face. Soon everyone was stuffed from the nice meal, though once Two-bit finished swallowing his last bite he sighed stuffed before standing up from his seat "I got the chocolate cake" he sates before rushing to the counter and grabbing the cake causing everyone to let out a little chuckle.
Everyone was able to eat a thin slice of chocolate cake while Two-bit on the other hand was back at his mission of sitting on the floor watching Mickey and eating the rest of the cake using his hands.
Darry collected all the empty plates and silverware before placing them in the sink, starting to wash the dishes. You kissed Johnny on the cheek and let him know you were going to help Darry with the dishes. He responded with a gentle nod before pecking your lips and taking a seat on the couch beside Dallas, Dallas immediately grabbed Johnny in a head lock and ruffled up his hair.
"Hey Darr, need some help" You offer, walking over to the sink.
"Sure Y/n, that'd be nice" He smiles moving over to let you stand by the strainer, while he washed and rinsed the dishes you dried them off with the kitchen towel given to you.
In a matter of five minutes you both had managed to finish up the dishes faster than just one person would've. Walking into the living room you take an open seat beside Johnny, resting your head on his shoulder to which Johnny lays his head against yours and snuggles into your side.
Soon the laughter and fun times ended once the sun went down and it started getting dark, you and Johnny said your goodbyes but before you could leave the porch Dallas came running over to Johnny. He tugged him away for a second before slipping something in Johnny's hands, it reflected off of the moonlight and you could tell it was a packet of some sort.
Once Johnny took a look at whatever it was he quickly shoved it in his Jean jackets pocket with an embarrassed blush covering his features "good luck" Dallas grinned, with a cheeky wink as he walked back into the house.
Johnny walked back up to you and slipped one of his hands in yours while his other rested in his pocket. It was quite chilly out, causing Johnny's small frame to shake from the cool air. You only shook once but that was enough for Johnny to pull off his jacket and drape it over your shoulders, your head snapped up to Johnny's.
"Johnny m' fine really, here" You tried to give it back to him but he refused to take it back, his small frame still shaking.
"Nah' Y/n I'm good really" He tries, but you clearly see behind his shaking features.
Grabbing Johnny's arm you lift up the jacket letting his arm slide through the collar but also draped around your shoulders, as you drape your shoulder around his letting the jacket cover his freezing frame.
You look up at Johnny, catching his loving gaze as he stares back at you. No one had ever really put him first like you have, even if he protested against something like this you always found a positive way to help the situation.
You smiled up at him shyly as you both continue to walk down the road, "wanna' come to my house?" You question.
He shakes his head "your parents' are there I wouldn't want to intrude" He says.
"You wouldn't, you never do... but how about' we go to the lot then?" You question curiously.
Johnny looks up at you "yeah, that'd be nice" He smiles small.
A couple more minutes of walking and you both arrived at the lot, the moon reflecting on the old seat car seat that you and Johnny have cuddled on many times. Johnny removes his arms from the jacket to grab his lighter and lighting a couple of dead leaves placing them on top of the wood, causing the sticks and limbs to ignite a warm fire.
You rest your hands in Johnny's jacket pockets before feeling a sharp paper like object touch your finger pads, while Johnny was busy rearranging the limbs to keep the fire going you slipped out the golden packet from the pocket that read 'durex: one latex condom'.
You soon heard the steering of leaves and branches come to a halt causing you to move your gaze to Johnny. His mouth was wide open and his eyes were slightly bulged open as well. There was a loud silence, the only thing that could be heard was the burning of the fire.
You walked over to Johnny and sat down on the seat next to him, Johnny's gaze followed you as his expression never changed. "So this is what Dal' slipped you eh?" You giggle slightly, something you only found yourself doing with Johnny.
A bright red blush covers Johnny's features as he looks down embarrassed but slowly nods, confirming it was in fact what Dal had slipped him.
You lift his head up with your pointer finger, your eyes meeting once against you raise one of your legs and place it on the other side of Johnny now fully straddling his waist.
Johnny gulps nervously as your body's continue to touch each other's, you gently caress Johnny's arm with the pads of your fingers causing goosebumps to ride down his spine. He continues to watch your every move, studying your features like none before.
�� "Johnny I'm ready" You mumble softly, looking into his soft brown orbs.
"Wait. Are you sure?" He mumbles resting his hands just above your hips.
"Yes, are you ready?" You question softly.
"I am" He gives consent, a small blush forming across his cheeks due to this conversation.
He was terrified, what if's kept running through his mind 'what if you don't like it?' 'What if I'm bad?' 'What if she leaves me?'. He hadn't ever been in this position before and this meant a lot to him, because it was a sign of love for your partner and he didn't want to dis-satisfy and disappoint.
You place your hands gently on his cheeks and bring him into a loving kiss, fireworks go off, your lips tingle against one another, slowly but surely the kiss started to heat up along with the speed.
You were now both hungry for each other, you pulled away for air but immediately placed your lips against the sensitive skin around his neck, Johnny lowly whimpers in response as his head tilts back. You were starting to get greedy, your kisses became more desperate as did your grinding on his crotch.
Though you kept that at bay not wanting to frighten him. Your breathing started picking up as you nipped and kissed his soft spots on his neck. Johnny felt as if he was floating with the immense pleasure and you haven't even started yet.
You lifted your face from his neck and went back to his lips, closing the gap. You slowed down the kiss, gently you bend your head down a little and take his bottom lip in between your two lips, kissing slowly before moving to his top lip and showing all your attention there. Soon your place your lips on his, he runs his tongue under your bottom lip asking for entrance to which you allow.
His tongue slipping into your mouth, interwinding and fighting for dominance with yours. You pull away slightly for more air, you get a good look at Johnny's eyes and see that they have darkened and lust clouds his eyes as he looks at you lovingly.
You grind your hips against his hardening cock causing him to gasp in shock and in pleasure as he grips your hips and follows your rhythm. You close your eyes and let out a light moan from the stimulation. You never would've pictured Johnny like this, his eyes were practically begging you; speaking words he was to embarrassed to speak himself.
"Johnny..." You whisper, going back to your current position of kissing and nipping at his neck, making sure not to add noticeable loves bites.
"Y/n.. Can-can I touch you" He practically begs out.
"Yes..." You breath out, trying to maintain your breathing.
Gently he grips your hips and turns you over so he's hovering over you, his eyes pierce through your soul. You almost spill out all your dirty thoughts you've had about Johnny right then and there.
It felt like hours as Johnny's brown orbs stare into yours, when in reality it had only been a couple seconds. Everything seems to play in slo-motion as Johnny straddles your waist, knees on either side of your waist. Kneeling down so his forearms are resting beside each side of your head laying on the old seat.
Johnny peppers small kisses around your neck and under your jaw, slowly he makes it down the valley of your breast; not going any further than that he starts sucking on the sensitive skin leaving little loves bites in places that wouldn't show to much.
You run your fingers through his greasy hair, not caring that in return your hand was starting to get greasy from the intense amount of hair grease placed in his hair.
Johnny slips his Jean jacket off your shoulders placing it on the ground next to you, he places gentle kisses all over your exposed shoulders. His hands began to shake from nervousness, this action causes you to lift Johnny's head up with your finger.
"Johnny... are you sure you're ready?" You caress his cheek lovingly.
He nods his head "I'm sure, are you?" He makes sure.
"I am" You confirm, bringing him down to press a loving kiss to his chapped lips.
He fumbles with the string of your top nervously, trying to untie it; his shaking hands not allowing him to do so. Eventually he manages to untie the bow, following with unbuttoning the rest of the buttons with a nervous struggle.
He slips the piece of clothing off your shoulder, exposing your black bra that held a little diamond bow in the middle. You blush as Johnny stares at your chest lovingly, "Y-you're beautiful..." He gasps out.
He doesn't give you to to thank him before placing little kisses above your breasts, gently sucking and creating little love bites causing you to let out a little moan. You tug at the hem of Johnny's black t-shirt, signaling that you wanted it off.
Johnny stops what he's doing to lift up his shirt off of his body now showing of his tan skin. A couple scars rest on his chest and torso, you gently rub your finger pads over some of the old scars. Lifting up your body you rest on your elbows maintaining eye contact as you press a few kisses to his scars and chest causing Johnny to melt in his position.
Johnny blushes as you lean back a little to get the whole view of your Johnny Cade, still resting on your elbows you look up at him with excited eyes. You run a finger down his chest to his stomach, stoping at the hem of his pants that held a very noticeable bulge.
You lift yourself up, wrapping your arms around Johnny neck before bringing you both back down and pulling him into a lust filed kiss. Letting your hands wander you end up being back to the hem of his loose jeans, you let your fingers rest there for a bit as you and Johnny continue to make out.
Soon you start to fumble with the button, then you start unzipping his jeans. You leave it at that before breaking the kiss for air. Johnny lowers his his butterfly kisses to your stomach, soon being face to face with your skirt.
Looking you in the eyes he slips his hands in your skirt, rubbing your thighs as he does so. He grabs the edges of your underwear and tugs them down, licking his lips hungrily as he does so.
Placing them on top of his jean jacket so they don't get dirty he spreads your legs not quite seeing your exposed core yet. "Can I taste you Y/n?" He asks innocently, his breathing picking up as he looks up at you his once light brown eyes now fully black and clouded with lust.
You nod your head furiously your stomach tightening from excitement, lifting your skirt above your thighs your core now being exposed to Johnny. You were so into it you didn't feel embarrassed about showing him your body at all.
He places kisses on your thighs, slowly leaning closer to the place you needed him the most. Looking up at you he wraps his lips around your clit, the feeling of his tongue causing you to gasp at the stimulation.
He continues to swirl his tongue around your clit, flicking faster as your breathing picks up. Johnny gets more confident in his movements as he hears you moan, he speeds things up and slowly starts to add one finger into your now dripping core.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he lets you adjust to one finger before slipping in two. You let out a strained whimper as his tongue continues to work on your clit and his two fingers stretching you out, getting you ready for him.
Since this was your first time being eaten out and first time period, your climax comes closer than you would've expected. Your eyes roll back as your hips push farther into Johnny's hold, "I'm gonna cum, Johnny!" You whimper out as your high soon rolls over, causing your hips to stutter and Johnny to moan at the satisfying taste.
He lets you ride out your high before coming back up to you, a panting mess as you try to calm yourself. Johnny's lips glisten in the moonlight as he's covered in your cum. He licks his lips and sucks off his fingers hungrily as his eyes continue to stare into yours.
"You taste amazin'" He moans out as he presses a kiss to your lips before getting up and sitting on the other side of the seat and tugging off his jeans.
Sitting up you wrap your legs around his waist, grinding yourself on his clothed bulge. You run your fingers down his stomach until you get to his boxers "can I?" You blush.
Johnny nods shyly as a blush covers his features, you tug down his boxers revealing his cock that springs out and hits his stomach. You lick your lips as you place the piece of clothing on top of the pile of clothes. You run your finger pad over the tip of his cock smearing the pre cum that rested there.
Johnny's breathing picks up as his head falls back, his mouth falls open and his eyes screw shut; having being touched for the first time. Getting more confident you grab his length and start to stoke his cock in up and down motions, slowly since he was sensitive.
Small moans fall out of Johnny's pink lips, your mouth falls open as you look up at Johnny, his moans turning you on even more. "Oh my..." you mumble lowly, as you continue to stoke his length.
Grabbing the condom that sat beside you, you slow down your motions before stopping causing Johnny to look back up at you. You gently open the packet to the condom, sliding out the lubricated latex. Flipping it to the right side you place the condom on the tip of Johnny's cock before sliding it down correctly.
Johnny watches in amazement as you adjust the condom on his length, you press a loving kiss to his jaw before gazing into his brown orbs "are you ready?" You question, caressing his redden cheek.
Johnny nods furiously as he places his hands above your hips, shakily. Lining up his cock with your entrance, you start to slide down his cock. Your tight walls closing on around Johnny's length, it didn't really hurt as he slipped in your walls but more so stung a bit. It was a very tight fit as you continue to slide down further on his harden cock.
Johnny's eyes slam shut at the tight fit around his length, his breathing picked up as his cheeks reddened along with the tip of his nose. His stomach heaved up and down from your walls closing in on him, his hips stuttered from him being so sensitive but he maintained them as best as he could until you were ready to speed up.
Soon your walls started to get used to Johnny's cock allowing you to speed up your actions, your head rolls back as your chest arches from the stimulation. Just now realizing you weren't completely naked since your bra was still connected to your body, you continue riding Johnny at a medium speed whilst reaching your hands behind your bra strap and unclipping it.
Throwing your bra to the other side finally freeing your breasts, Johnny's eyes widen at the skin burning sight. He looks up with his doe brown eyes, asking to touch you. You nod as you continue to ride Johnny, your boobs bouncing as you do so. Johnny's eyes fall back on your perky breasts before letting his hand trail up from your waist and stomach to your boobs, lightly twisting your harden nipple causing you to moan and roll your hips.
"Oh Y/n~" He all but whimpers as his hands continue to rest on your chest, Johnny throws his head back, mouth gape open, eyes shut as you feel his cock reach your sweet spot.
"Oh my, Johnny" You moan out, skin slapping together as you ignore the burning sensation in your thighs.
Johnny lifts up and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your heated body closer to his as your motions speed up. Your hands fall to his neck, playing with the little hairs that rested there. His head rests on your chest, his breathing constantly heaving as he feels the burning sensation in his abdomen.
He lets out a muffled whimper against your skin as his cock continues to reach a point past your sweet spot and your walls clench around him greedily. You swirl your hips around his causing Johnny to gasp, "do t-that again' p-please" he begs out, squeezing his eyes closed.
You continue to swirl your hips around his length feeling that same burning sensation in your abdomen. You speed up your actions, ready to reach that point. Johnny places his lips against yours for support as he feels his body shaking from anticipation and also chasing his high.
His hips stutter upwards causing his cock to be buried deeper inside your walls. You moan out into the silent night as your motions only increase, "y/n... I'm gonna' cum" Johnny warns as his breath catches in his throat, you nod your head in agreement.
With one final thrust Johnny cum's in the condom, you're able to feel the warm cum inside you from the thin latex that was preventing him from spilling inside you, that set off your orgasm as you start to cum around his cock. Your hips stutter along with Johnny's creating more friction against your sensitive core.
Once both your highs decrease you slow your movements, not quite quitting as you press a loving kiss to Johnny's lips. He accepts the kiss, only becoming more needy as you run your hands through his hair.
You pull away gently before gazing into Johnny's loving orbs, "that was amazin' Y/n..." he gasps out as you agree, slowing sliding off his cock slowly causing you both to whimper as Johnny's hips stutter in the air.
Before Johnny could slip the condom off you take action and began slowly slipping it off for him and tying it before discarding of the latex in the trash can beside the seat.
You slip on your tank top, not bothering to put your uncomfortable bra on as you hand Johnny his boxer and jeans. Johnny slips on his clothes the same time you do.
Johnny looks at you lovingly as you finish up the buttons on your tank top, half your chest still exposed until you finish buttoning the last button.
You glance at Johnny to see him staring at you, "what?" You smile bashfully.
"You're just'... beautiful" He admires you as you crawl over to him and cuddle into his side, taking his Jean jacket and covering you both up with it.
"That was really breath takin' Johnny" You giggle slightly as you shyly look into his puppy eyes.
Johnny smiles as a blush covers his features "i love you Y/n" Johnny admits as he cuddles into your side.
"I love you Johnny" You smile as you both stare at the burning fire, soon your breathing lured Johnny into a restful and deep sleep, you soon following behind moments latter.
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Requested from Wattpad!!!
#wattpad#cobra kai#cobra kai imagine#cobra kai x reader#eli moskowitz x reader#hawk#tiktok#x reader#masterlist#johnny cade x reader#johnnycade#the outsiders#outsiders#johnnycade smut#johnnycadexreadersmut#robby keene
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detention, retention, and draco malfoy being a little shit
masterlist request guidelines
pairing: draco x reader
request: no not really
summary: golden trio friend y/n y/l/n tries to extract information out of draco malfoy after being placed in detention together.
warnings: swearing, panic attack kinda stuff, just the dark war things that would come w having the task that draco does
a/n: ayo so i started this as a fic i was originally planning on writing in a week. i discontinued it bc i didn’t think anyone was that interested, but i’ve written for it on and off. it’s about 16k words right now standing, but i’m reposting this as a 2 part series. here are the first ~12k words....enjoy :) IMPORTANT: if you’re like “hey i started reading this in october why tf are you reposting the first two parts” just keep reading ok lmao i promise there’s more there’s about through part 6 in here hehe. i just wanted new readers to be able to pick up on it without being turned off by the fact that it was part 3. this will b e 2 parts and at least 20k words
word count: 11.6k
taglist: @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell
happy reading y’all
For legal purposes, the york pudding she lobbed at Pansy Parkinson’s head on Monday evening was simply meant to be a joke. She didn’t know that her aim was bad enough that it was going to get in Snape’s hair instead--honestly, it wasn’t even supposed to get past the Ravenclaw table, much less veer to the left to make a beeline for the professors--but no matter how much she tried to explain this to McGonagall, her sentence remained the same: detention every Friday. For two months.
Her life was ending for sure.
“I honestly don’t know what you were expecting,” Hermione told her as she gently wiped off the nib of her quill later that night in the common room. “Even if you had hit your mark, that’s still technically assault.”
“Did you even hear what she said to me? She told me that I looked like the type of kid that bit people in primary school,” complained Y/N. “I didn’t even think she knew what primary school was!”
Hermione snorted. “How long ago?”
“Two days. I’ve been waiting until there was something throwable on the dinner table.”
“How very analytic of you.”
“I’m going to hit you.”
“And you wonder why you’ve got detention.” Hermione tsk-ed at her, her face stone serious but her tone light hearted. “Maybe take this as an opportunity to, I don’t know, do your homework for once? So you won’t have to have a breakdown over the next Potion’s essay and beg me to write it for you?”
“I’m going to go to sleep and think terribly mean thoughts about you.”
“Have fun.”
~
Detention.
Something that Y/N wasn’t completely unfamiliar with--she’d done her time organizing Snape’s cabinets, just like every other Gryffindor--but it was different when it came to McGonagall. An impressive old lady, she thought that McGonagall saw something in her. She was always the first to chuckle at Y/N’s jokes and hesitated to reprimand her stupid behavior. And she never gave Y/N detention.
Until now, she supposed. 6th year was changing a lot of things--even their Potions professor--so McGonagall turning a new stone shouldn’t have been anything shocking.
At least, not as shocking as the first thing Y/N saw as she walked into her house head’s office.
“Malfoy?” she spat.
The platinum blonde didn’t even bother to look up from his desk.
“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall chided. “I think we would all prefer if you restrained yourself from getting into any more physical altercations with Slytherins.”
She huffed, plopping down in the chair furthest away from that foul git and reaching for her satchel.
“I’ll be back in two hours,” said the elderly professor. “If I hear anything, and I mean anything, other than the sound of studying, consider your sentence doubled.”
With a swish of her robes, McGonagall was gone, leaving her with Malfoy.
“So what’d you do to get in here, huh? Did the administration finally get a hold of that video of you licking Voldemort’s toes?”
“What the fuck does that mean?!” he snapped, whipping around to glare at her.
“‘s just a joke,” said Y/N. “Like--how everyone says your family houses him and everything--but whatever. I can tell it’s a sore spot.”
His gaze, never withering in intensity, remained trained on her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Apparently so. What’re you here for?”
He exhaled sharply. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me think?”
“No promises, but maybe.”
“Late work. I forgot to turn in the Transfiguration exam last week.”
She made a tutting sound as she lazily shuffled through the crumpled parchment in her satchel. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I wound up here?”
“No. I am going to ask you to stop talking now, though.”
~
“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hermione said over breakfast the next morning. Ron and Harry were nervously chit chatting at the other side of the table over the Saturday Quidditch game against Hufflepuff--supposedly it was supposed to be quite a high stakes match. Not like Y/N cared much, though.
“Yeah! And the worst part was that he won’t even tease anymore. Like, he just sits there all broody and woe is me. We’re all witnessing our nation’s descent into war--he’s not special!”
“Who are you talking about?” asked Harry.
“Oh, just Malfoy,” said Y/N. “We have detention together with McGonagall. He’s such a nasty little greaseball, don’t you think? I mean, look at him right now, glowering over his cereal.”
“Wait! That’s it!”
“What’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked.
“It’s genius, really,” he said. “Y/N has to spend time with him alone every week, and we know that something is up with him. Malfoy is absolutely a Death Eater and has connections to You-Know-Who, but I just need to find a way to prove it.”
“I vaguely forecast where this is going, and I hate it already.”
“Listen, Y/N. It’s not for that long, and it’s for the health of the wizarding world. If you just get to know him--”
“Ick!”
“If you just get to know him, maybe get him to trust you and find out his secrets...we’d finally have enough to turn him in and throw him out of Hogwarts for good.”
“Is that really necessary, Harry?” Ginny butted in from her seat further down next to Dean. “Malfoy’s probably just exhausted like the rest of you. 6th year is difficult, and we have no solid evidence that he’s a Death Eater. I’m sure being stuck in a room with him for 2 hours is hard enough without pretending to be nice to him.”
“But what if Harry’s right?” said Y/N. “What if he is actually a Death Eater? What if he’s an active danger to the student body?”
“Exactly!” The joy written across Harry’s face at the prospect of someone else finally agreeing was infectious. “So will you?”
“Er…” She dragged her spoon across the top layer of her porridge. “In theory, sure. In actuality, I’m not sure how I could do it. Malfoy doesn’t want anything to do with me, either.”
“Love potion?” offered Ron.
“I don’t care how much of a prat he is, I’m not roofying him.”
“I rarely agree with you, Y/N, but I think you’re right. If you want to do this, you need to get him to trust you for real.”
“Your back-handed compliment skills never disappoint, Hermione. Do you think you could help me out with a plan?”
A slow smile spread across the girl’s face as she nodded. “That’s my strong suit.”
The plan they laid out over the remainder of the day was ambitious but at least do-able. Each week was split into different subtasks, the end goal being a somewhat tentative friendship between the two.
“If you can flirt with him and get him to have a crush on you without scaring him off, you’d be in the best possible position,” Hermione told her as they walked back from the Quidditch pitch among the screaming Gryffindor fans. They’d won--yet again. “Obviously I don’t foresee that being likely, but if you pull it off somehow he’d probably be willing to tell you anything. The fact that you’re a pureblood is going to carry you through this whole ordeal. He’ll at least be accepting of your existence in the wizarding community.”
The bitter edge in Hermione’s tone made Y/N’s blood boil. There was no reason for Malfoy to be as prejudiced as he was--he’d spent his adolescence in Hermione’s academic dust. She was obviously smarter than him.
“You got it, ‘Mione,” she said. Her voice barely carried over the cheers of her peers as they ascended the steps to the common room. “We’ll take this little ferret down. I can’t wait.”
“Don’t get too cocky, now.”
The Gryffindor after-party was crazy...per usual. The charmed self-filling goblets, the blasted playlist of Wizpop pumping through the air, and the buzzing energy of the room was giving Y/N a giant headache. She stood with Hermione and Harry by the edge of the crowd, watching Ron get hoisted up on the shoulders of the chasers.
“No wonder the Slytherins think we’re Neanderthals,” Y/N mused. For once, Hermione didn’t respond. “Hermione? Is everything okay?”
The second she turned away to look at her best friend, gasps and whistles filled the room. She whipped back just in time to see Lavender Brown, a sweet but slightly ditzy girl in their year, pull away from a kiss with Ron.
“Oh shi--Hermione!”
Harry and Y/N shared a glance before darting after the witch--who had impressively already made it to the door.
“Hermione, wait!” Y/N called as they jogged after her, throwing open the common room entrance and finding her sat by the tapestry on the other side of the hall, knees to her chest.
“‘Mione, what’s wrong?” asked Harry.
“Don’t be daft, Harry,” said Y/N. “You saw exactly what the rest of us did.”
“I don’t understa--”
“Harry.” Her voice was taut. “I know you’re just trying to help, but I think that it might be best if you let us be. Go back and enjoy the party.”
He gave her a tight, grateful smile before darting back through the door. Y/N wasted no more time in walking over to Hermione and throwing her arms around her shoulders.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging her tight. Hermione made no move to detach them, so she continued. “Ron is an idiot. You deserve so much better--your first kiss was Viktor fucking Krum, after all. You’re hot stuff and this place is just unfortunately running dry of men who are impressive enough for you. Once you’re out of here and working in the Ministry, you’re gonna have the time of your life with men actually in your league.”
Hermione managed a sniffly laugh as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just so fucking embarrassing, you know. Like, I have a crush on him because I think he understands me and I smelled him in my Amortentia and I thought he’d like me back, but…” She hiccuped. “Then he goes off and kisses Lavender Brown, of all people. There’s nothing particularly wrong with her or anything, but she’s so different...I’m so bookish, and she’s so girly and everything I’m not…”
Y/N took the opportunity to tuck a lock of Hermione’s hair behind her ear as she listened.
“And it can’t help but make me think--was I ever anything to him but a friend? If the girl he ends up choosing is the opposite of me?”
“Girly, don’t think like that,” murmured Y/N. “He’s a teenage boy. They don’t think of love the way that we do--to them it’s a game of availability, not of choice. At least for Ronald. You intimidate him, and by extension, you’re not available.”
“That shouldn’t matter!”
“You’re right. It shouldn’t.” Y/N drew a long breath. “So you should find someone who always has you as their first choice--someone who isn’t intimidated by your intellect. They’re out there. I promise.”
Hermione managed a shaky smile. “Thanks, Y/N. I mean it. Do you mind if I have some alone time? I don’t think I’m ready to go back to the party but I just want some quiet.”
“Of course. Let me know if you need me,” she said, brushing herself off and making to walk down the hall.
“You’re not going back to the party?”
“Nah. It hurts my head and I want fresh air. If I’m not back here in a half hour, assume that I’ve been kidnapped.”
With that, she started her walk. She wasn’t planning on going on a long stroll--there was a small balcony that she often went to when she needed to clear her head. It was beautiful, especially on a snowy night like this.
But the walk was creepy.
There was only one way in and out--a narrow, damp hallway that had absolutely no light fixtures. If Y/N really wanted to, she could cast a quick lumos, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what lived on the walls. The stairs were steep, too, but she managed to bound up all 40 of them in record time.
“Who’s there?”
The sudden voice ripped a scream out of Y/N’s throat as she reached the top, catching a glimpse of the shadowy figure at the edge of the balcony that spoke. She clasped her hand over her mouth and she crept forward to the opening, getting a better look at the person that was in her secret spot.
The clouds shifted in the sky to allow more moonlight to cast a soft glow on Malfoy’s face, hardened with irritation.
“Malfoy?” Y/N asked, rather dumbly.
“What stellar observational skills,” he drawled.
She felt her cheeks grow hot. “What are you doing here? This is part of the Gryffindor tower. Shouldn’t you be...I don’t know...playing hide and seek with the sewer rats in the dungeons?”
“Very funny.” His flat tone exposed the fact that he did not, in fact, find it very funny. “There’s no rule barring me from coming up here.”
“But why? This is my spot!”
“Because I wanted to get out. Now, I was here first, so unless you want your detention extended, I suggest you leave.”
Y/N bit the fiery comebacks on the tip of her tongue as the memories of her plan with Hermione began floating back to her.
Week 1 -- Hold one neutral, civil conversation with Malfoy.
“I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here,” Y/N decided upon. leaning up against the balcony. The rogue snowflakes that made it past the overhanging roof melted on her cheeks.
“That isn’t a suggestion,” said Malfoy. “I’m demanding you leave.”
“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, pointedly ignoring his words. “I’ve always loved the snow. It’s so quiet.”
“And it would be even quieter if you left.”
“Aren’t you the conversationalist?” said Y/N.
“If you don’t leave, I will hex you,” Malfoy told her through gritted teeth.
“I just love how the moonlight reflects off of the snow,” continued Y/N. “It’s so...pure.”
“Please leave.”
On her walk back down the dank stairwell, she allowed herself a little smile.
Task 1? Technically done.
~
The first week went largely as planned. Malfoy was cold and certainly suspicious of her, but he wasn’t completely venomous when Y/N asked where he got his quill from in Potions. It was silver, charmed to shimmer with flecks of forest green. He told her Barnaby’s in France, and that was that. She walked away from his table with all of her limbs attached. Perhaps that was all the progress she was going to make in the next few weeks, but the task at hand certainly made the prospect of her lost Friday afternoons more bearable.
Harry was going completely batty, rambling on about how Malfoy was behind the mysterious cursed objects that had been floating about the castle without explanation.
“And why would Malfoy bring cursed objects to Hogwarts if he has aspirations other than being expelled?” Hermione would ask over their books.
“You don’t understand, Hermione! You girls need to be careful walking around at night--especially you, Y/N. I don’t want you going missing after detention because of that slimeball.”
Y/N always gave him a laugh, berating him for his slight misogynistic commentary and turning back to whatever her task was, but the truth was that she was worried for him. The mental weight of the impending war and the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it was certainly getting too difficult for him to bear. It was heartbreaking to see the vivacious boy she’d grown up with crumble under the responsibilities of something he should never have to worry about in the first place.
Friday came much sooner than expected, and Y/N reluctantly left her friends in the common room to trek to McGonagall’s office. The walk was frigid and the wind bit at her cheeks as she rounded the last outdoor hall.
Why was this castle so dark?
A thump behind her made her jump, and Harry’s words came floating back to her.
Remember all those cursed objects? What if there’s someone just...stalking the school grounds, waiting for someone like me to snatch?
She shivered, throwing herself at the office door and slamming it behind her.
“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall greeted, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “Something giving you trouble?”
“No, Professor,” she answered, setting her bag down on the desk next to Malfoy. He sent her a curious look as well. “It’s just cold outside.”
She chuckled. “I need to go speak to Headmaster Dumbledore. I expect that, upon my return, you both are in one piece and alive.”
“I’m not sure if I’m the one who needs to be given that speech,” said Y/N, bored and testing the waters.
“She’s right, Professor,” added Malfoy. “There’s no projectiles here.”
McGonagall exhaled a long, shaky breath before brushing herself off. “Please. Behave yourselves.”
“You got it, boss,” she said as she watched her Professor walk out the door. “So, Malfoy. How was your week?”
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’d way prefer if you didn’t speak to me,” he said, refusing to make eye contact.
“I’m not up to anything! We’re in detention together and, I dunno, since I see you sometimes at balls, I thought it’d be nice to be on good terms.”
“Good terms?” He scoffed. “You’re a Gryffindor. I’d rather you be a bloody Hufflepuff.”
“How about neutral terms?”
Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she could catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes. “If neutral terms mean you being quiet, then, yes. Please.”
“I’ll be plenty quiet. After I hear about your opinion on what happened in Potions today with Brown and Weasley. When Snape yelled at them for holding hands.”
He let out a sharp sigh. “Believe it or not, I actually have better things to do than keep up with whatever stuff your house does.”
“But…?” Y/N pressed. She may not’ve spent her time at Hogwarts as Malfoy’s best friend, but she had grown up with the boy, and she could tell when he was holding back.
He stared blankly at her.
“Come on. I’m literally the only person in my house who’ll openly admit that they’re disgusted by that dynamic. I’m begging you.”
She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she saw a flicker of amusement dance across his face for a moment. “Your house sounds more like a cult than a student group.”
“Oh, says the one from Slytherin,” said Y/N.
“We only act like that because our families are close. What’s your excuse? Hormones and Quidditch culture?”
“Touché.” As much as she wanted to fight back, she bit her tongue. Whatever she was doing was making progress, and quicker progress than she was expecting. Her next task was to make him laugh, and she was emboldened by the fact that she could potentially be able to kill two birds with one stone.
They sat in silence for a little bit, but this time, it was a comfortable silence. Malfoy wasn’t staring at the clock on the wall or rolling his eyes at her every move, so she had time to plot.
On one hand, she could make a fool of herself--drop her inkwell, say something stupid in class, fall down the stairs--but she had a sneaking suspicion that her sorry attempts at slapstick humor wouldn’t land well with Draco anymore. He’d become so serious lately, so solemn. This was the most light hearted she’d seen him, even compared with how he acted with the rest of his Slytherin lackeys.
On the other, she could try to sell out her friends. She could confide in him how “big” Hermione’s teeth were (they weren’t even big) or tell him that Ron smelled of eggs (true, but that was a low blow). Something told her that this would be much more successful, but she wasn’t willing to turn to that so quickly--she was already a week ahead as it was.
“What is it?”
Malfoy’s bored drawl cut through her flurried thoughts. Her cheeks turned pink as she blinked, noticing that she’d been staring at him for far too long. “Nothing. Sorry. I just spaced out.”
“Sure,” he mumbled, giving her another suspicious look before turning back to his work. “Can you maybe space out somewhere other than my face?”
“Where’s your vanity, Malfoy?” she pressed as she leaned back in her chair, hair swinging over the back.
“Shut up,” he snapped. She could tell that whatever connection they’d had in the fleeting moments beforehand was being burnt by the second, but her embarrassment and pride drove her forward.
“Merlin, what’s got you so wound up?” she prompted, noting how deliciously unraveled he looked at this. “Where’s my cool, collected Slytherin?”
He slammed hands on his desk at this, whipping around to glare at her. “What’s your angle, Y/L/N?”
“What?”
“Why are you bothering me?”
“Because I want to.” She beamed.
Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, mussing up the usual neat manner in which it normally laid on his head. “Compelling. What do you want from me?”
“What do I want…?” She tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes. “What?”
“You never talk to me,” he explained. “Obviously, I prefer it like that. I can’t help but wonder why suddenly you want to be making small talk. So, what is it you want from me?”
“Malfoy,” she said. “I think you’re a spoiled prick who thinks far too highly of himself and drives me insane. But I also think that you’re funnier than what my friends give you credit for. Granted, you’ve always been annoying, but I don’t want anything from you. I just want to, I dunno, make these next few months less insufferable.” Somehow the lie slipped through her teeth easier than any of her previous bluffs.
He frowned, his mouth opening once before firmly screwing shut into a scowl. “Oh.”
“No offense, Malfoy, but what else can you offer me other than your dazzling personality?” she teased. “You know my family. I don’t need to blackmail you to pay for jewelry I’ve had my eye on or anything.”
He scoffed. “As if I’d say yes.”
“Exactly my point. It’d be fucking weird. Merlin, I’m not trying to butter you up to buy out Borgin & Burkes for me. Do I give off gold-digger vibes? Is that what this is about?”
“Fucking hell.” Malfoy turned to her in disbelief. “Do you ever shut up?”
“Answer my question. Or better yet, pull out your wallet. Wait, did I say that out loud?” She mimed surprise and covered her mouth. “Oh no! What will my mother say now that I’ve squandered my last chance of hitching you? There’s no way I can go home for Christmas break now.”
He rolled his eyes so hard she found herself worried for a moment that they were going to just permanently get stuck in the back of his head. “Hate to break it to you, but you didn’t really have a shot to begin with.”
Ouch.
She huffed and dramatically flopped over the back of her chair, hoping he couldn’t see that she’d flinched. “So you don’t think I’m pretty??”
“Y/L/N,” he snapped, his voice a low warning. “Can I please just work? What is with you today?”
Y/N sent him a sour look before giving her Charms work another look. Malfoy was awfully quiet, and when she snuck any glances at him later on, he was angled to face away from her.
Why did she feel like such shit all of a sudden? She cataloged the past events, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that her stomach dropped. It all made sense when the words “You didn’t really have a shot to begin with” echoed around her head once again. She’d failed Harry. She’d failed Hermione. There was no way that she was going to be able to get him to reveal his secrets now--it’s not like he was confiding in even his closest friends as Harry made apparent when he explained how vague his statements were to his fellow Slytherins on the train. Her only chance would’ve been to somehow get him to fall for her, and that wasn’t going...great. And it had been a pipedream to begin with.
When McGonagall swished back into the classroom to dismiss them, Y/N shot out of there without even looking at Malfoy again. It felt like something was lodged in her throat and she was not going to cry in front of him. No, no. She had to make it to Hermione to tell her what was going on.
“Y/L/N?”
Malfoy’s voice made her pause in her flee as she nearly rounded the corner in front of her, but she refused to look back. It was far enough away that it was possible she didn’t hear him.
“Wait!”
She was up the stairs and speed walking as fast as her legs could carry her to the Gryffindor tower before he even saw which way she went.
~
“I don’t think you understand,” Y/N wailed by the fire as Hermione rubbed her shoulders and Harry sat awkwardly perched on the couch. “I can’t do this. The only way this was going to work was if he had a crush on me, and I don’t think he ever will. I fucked it up! The one time you guys need me, I fuck it up! I let you down!”
Hermione’s left hand stopped its rubbing to rest firmly on her shoulder. “Please don’t be upset. You didn’t let us down. Plus, you’re only, what...two weeks in? You don’t need him to like you to make it work. Just getting him to trust you will be enough, and you’re good at that.”
“I don’t think so,” continued Y/N. “Harry said that he wasn’t even that open on the train when he overheard him talking to all of his friends. And those are purebloods that he likes! That he’s trusted and known for years and years! I’m a friend of you guys, and he knows it. I think he’d figure it out quick.”
“We should take every chance we can get,” said Harry from his spot a few feet away, his eyes lazy and unfocused on the fire crackling in front of them. “You won’t let us down if you can’t get anything, Y/N, you know that! But if you got anything from him, it’d be incredible. It’s a win-win. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”
“I’m not upset,” she said, her tone becoming defensive. “I just...don’t want to mess this up. I know how much it’d mean if I succeeded.”
“So just try!” Hermione said. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m sorry he was kind of mean to you today, but I don’t think that should bother you too much. He should be more afraid of what you’d say if you didn’t care about being a good person.”
“Fucking right on there,” she said, wiping away the frustrated tears. “If I was honest with him, he’d leave crying. He should be grateful that I’m taking this bet so I actually have to be nice to him.”
“That’s the spirit.” Harry leaned over to smack her back like he did his Quidditch teammates after a winning match.
After they’d parted their ways with Harry, Hermione and Y/N made their way slowly up the stairwell to the girls’ dorms.
“Y/N?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think, er…” She paused. “Do you think you were really upset about failing us today? Or was it something else?”
“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t see what else it would be.”
“I’m sorry,” responded the bright witch. “Forget I ever asked. It was a stupid thing to wonder about.”
“Weirdo,” she teased as she waved her a goodnight and made her way to her dorm.
The next morning, Y/N busied herself with revising her Charms essay over her breakfast--a cup of tea and a half-buttered piece of toast--while Hermione leaned over her shoulder, nodding or grimacing at the corrections she made.
“Did you work during detention? Like, at all?”
“‘Mione,” moaned Y/N. “It’s too early for this. I don’t want a lecture. I just couldn’t focus.”
Her warm brown eyes narrowed as they bore into Y/N’s face. “Why were you distracted?”
“Oh, I, uh…” She stumbled over her words as Hermione drew closer. “Merlin, Hermione. I told you last night. I just felt like I was letting you all down.”
“Mhm,” was all she got in response before her best friend tilted her head back down to the parchment in front of her.
Y/N sat, completely puzzled. What was Hermione on about? She’d been straightforward with what was hurting her--she didn’t want to mess up the only task the Golden Trio had ever given her--and, even if she hadn’t been, Hermione was smart enough to deduce things for herself. So what was she thinking about?
Her eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table where the usual 6th year pureblood gang loitered about, drinking black coffee and sulking--but Malfoy was not to be seen. She jumped when her eyes met Parkinson, her dark eyes burning into her soul as a deep scowl was written across her face.
“Malfoy, what the fuck do you want?” Ron’s voice pulled her back to reality to see him glaring somewhere behind her.
“I wasn’t here to talk to you,” a familiar voice drawled.
She turned to see Malfoy standing behind her, a sneer written all across his stupidly pretty face.
“Miss me already?” asked Y/N as she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side.
“For fuck’s sake, stop doing that,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket and throwing a box at her. “You forgot your quill. I took the liberty of properly storing it, because it seems like you lot like to just throw them in your bag. Makes me physically ill to watch.”
“Oh.” Y/N studied the intricate box in her hands before tucking it away in her knapsack. “Thanks? I guess?”
He nodded curtly, contorting his face into one last scowl to send to Ron before turning and leaving,
“So,” Hermione began, cutting her omelet at a much brisker pace, “I think we need to have a little chat. About...all of this.”
“Why?”
“Not right now,” she said, her voice low and her eyes flicking at Ron and Harry sitting across from them. “I don’t think it’d benefit us for them to hear.”
“Ok?” She cautiously took a bite out of her toast and continued staring Hermione down. “You’re scaring me.”
“It’s...I don’t know. I thought I was crazy for thinking this, but it seems like we need to talk about it anyways. For this little mission of yours to work, we need to be totally open and honest with each other.”
“Sure.” Y/N took another bite. “I honestly have no clue what’s got you so on edge, though.”
“Who’s on edge?” Harry asked, leaning over the table and stealing the croissant on Y/N’s plate.
“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Do you not see the entire plate of them over there?”
He laughed, sending her an easy grin and dunking a piece into the hot chocolate in his mug. “Finders keepers. Say, Y/N, are you busy next weekend? Ron and Lavender are going to Madame Puddingfoot’s together, and I know Hermione isn’t going to want to take a weekend off studying to go to Hogsmeade, so I thought that maybe we could go cause some trouble at the Cauldron.”
“If you stop stealing my food we can talk about it,” replied Y/N, the corners of her lips tugging up into a grin.
“Deal.”
Hermione tugged at her arm. “I just realized I need to get something out of my room before we watch the Quidditch game. Will you come with me, Y/N?”
“Sure!” said Y/N. “Gee, I’m rolling in invitations today.”
Once they exited the dining hall, though, it immediately became evident that they were not actually heading up to the dorms. Hermione dragged her into the nearest bathroom before casting a quick silencing charm.
“Myrtle! Are you in here?” Only when she was sure silence was the only response to her question, she seemed satisfied to turn to Y/N and begin talking. “When were you going to tell me that you have a thing for Malfoy?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N felt the heat that had risen to her cheeks from the last quill-encounter re-emerge.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” said Hermione. “Are you seriously going to expect me to believe that you nearly sobbed over some random pureblood git telling you you never had a chance with him because it might slow down your progress with helping us? Actually? I’ve seen you look more ecstatic about hearing that your dear granny passed away.”
“To be fair, she had really good life insurance,” Y/N cut in. “And she was an old hag. Never had a nice thing to say to me.”
“Life insurance or no life insurance...you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you were just upset about not being able to help us as much. That was ridiculous. I don’t buy it. And the way you blushed like crazy when he came over to talk to you--the way you try and pretend like you can flirt...please. Y/N, it’s clear as day. I know you, and I know you have a crush on him.”
“Hermione!” hissed Y/N. “You have no clue what you’re talking about!”
“Yes, I think I do,” she pushed. “And you need to be honest with me if you want to be of any help right now.”
Her bossiness lit a fire of rage in Y/N’s chest, but she sucked in a deep breath, shutting her eyes before releasing it. “Believe me when I say I haven’t ever acknowledged any feelings I may or may not have towards him.”
“Ok.” Her face softened. “I know it might take time, but I honestly do think I’m right. Please just...be careful. This is a really odd situation to get caught up in if you actually have feelings for the other person. You’re trying to manipulate him, for Merlin’s sake.”
“And if I have these feelings for him, I’ve done a pretty damn good job of suppressing them for however long they’ve been here.”
Hermione sighed. “That’s true. I’m just saying that spending this much time with him is probably only going to make things worse. Will you please tell me if anything changes between the two of you?”
“Anything changes?” Y/N’s voice was dripping in disbelief. “You’re joking. Even if I was obsessed with him I don’t think there’s ever a chance of hell in anything ‘changing’ between us. He said it himself.”
“You know what I mean, Y/N,” responded Hermione. “Just promise me, ok?”
“Ok,” said Y/N. “I promise.”
That seemed to satiate Hermione as she nodded approvingly at her friend. “I think it goes without saying that Ron and Harry shouldn’t hear about this.”
“There’s nothing to hear about, but yes.” She shuffled her feet before meeting Hermione’s eyes again. “Er, I’m sorry for this being a weird question, but would you mind coming along with me and Harry to Hogsmeade? I don’t really see him like...that...and I don’t want to read into it too much and reject him if he is doing it just platonically, but just in case. Y’know.”
“Sure,” said Hermione, even though her face took on that curious expression yet again. “Anyways, you actually did forget something--you’re not wearing a single piece of Gryffindor colors for our game today. You should probably run back to your dorm before Harry and Ron notice.”
After they said their goodbyes, Y/N found herself turning over the things Hermione had said to her in her head. Did she like Malfoy? No, no fucking way. But a part of her really did think he was funny. And of course it was natural to feel rejected when anyone insinuates that they’d never consider you as a romantic interest without jest.
Once she’d made it up to her room and grabbed a few scarves, Y/N made to put her red cloak into her satchel. Her fingers ghosted over the box that Malfoy had given her and scoffed once she saw the Malfoy crest engraved into the rich wood.
Narcissistic snot.
Her curiosity got the better of her as she reached over to open up the elaborately decorated box. What met her was not just one quill but two--one of which was most certainly not her own.
She took them both out, tossing the old one in a pile with her other trusty familiar white feather quills and picked up the other one. It looked familiar--identical to the quill that she’d complimented Malfoy on in Potions about a week ago. Butterflies began to flutter like crazy in her stomach as she turned it over in her hand, watching the gray and green glitter together and the magic sparkles cast a gentle light over her bed. She generally avoided dipping into her family’s pockets to get school supplies any more than she had to--it’s not like it made her friends feel good about themselves when they were reminded how rich her family was--but this might be what she could consider to be an exception. She hadn’t even liked his quill all that much when she first saw it in Potions--but it was one of those things that was so noticeable that it made sense to compliment him.
She gave it one last look before tucking it back away into the elaborately decorated box. Perhaps she had spoken too soon when she’d told Hermione all hope was lost.
~
When Monday morning Potions class with the Slytherins rolled around, Y/N wasted no time. Malfoy was alone--even his Slytherin lackeys seemed to know not to bother him. Just what she needed.
“Malfoy,” she greeted, setting her bag down on his table and looking him dead on. He raised to meet her eyes, his eyebrow raised.
“Can I help you?”
“I just wanted you to know that I also really like your immense fortune,” she said. “And your manor.”
“Well, a lot of people do,” he mumbled as he looked away to dig through something in his bag. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he was blushing.
“I’m just letting you know,” she continued. “In case you were wanting to give them away. It worked for the quill, so I thought, well, why not?”
He exhaled, a deep and annoyed sound escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You really didn’t have to.”
“I was getting sick of it,” he told her. “I never can stick with one quill for too long, and I thought it’d be a shame to toss it. I thought it’d be better to be charitable--it’s not like your family could get an appointment at Barnaby’s if they tried.”
“Hey!” Y/N said indignantly. “You don’t know that!”
“I’ve heard your parents try to speak French,” he said. “If you’re anything like them, you'll be barred from ever entering the country.”
“Malfoy!”
His lips turned up into a smile, a soft laugh escaping his lips. Y/N suppressed the urge to grin in return. Task 3? Done. “What?”
“I can’t even argue with you,” she said. “It’s tragic.”
She stared at the empty stool next to him, wondering if she should just take the leap and sit with him. Malfoy seemed unbothered by her presence as he opened up his Potions book and set it next to his cauldron. “Do you want a partner?” The words left her lips before she could stop them.
He cast her a curious look before glancing at the empty stool. “It depends. Are you going to be annoying?”
She gasped in faux-offense. “What makes you think I could ever be annoying?”
“On that note, I think you better get back to Potter.” He motioned with his head towards the side of the room where most of her Gryffindor friends were chatting. Harry was staring at her, his fists clenched by his side.
Y/N smirked and sent him a wink.
“On that note,” she said, careful to imitate Malfoy’s drawl and sending him a smug grin, “Maybe I better sit here.”
“Hm.” He awarded her one more uninterested look before rolling up his sleeves and setting out the ingredients for the potion they were brewing--Amortentia.
She tried not to make it too obvious that she was staring at his left arm, but there was nothing on it like Harry had told her. It was just pure, unblemished pale skin that shimmered under the light. Before he could catch her looking, she quickly sat down and started pulling out her own things. After a short pause, she decided to take out the silver quill. She’d left his box back in her room--she wouldn’t be caught dead with something that had the Malfoy crest on it--but she’d wrapped it in a pouch with her own family’s emblem on the front, shimmering in gold and red.
“Why don’t you just buy your own charmed quills?” asked Malfoy after they had chopped all of the gillweed.
“You already know. We’re an abomination to the French. We aren’t allowed entry.”
“That’s not what I mean.” His tone was meant to read as exasperated, but his words still seemed good-natured.
“I...well.” She frowned. She’d never confessed this to anyone, but she supposed that Malfoy wasn’t going to find a way to use it against her. “I don’t like to flaunt my family wealth. I think it makes people, at least in Gryffindor, like me less. I learned that pretty early on.”
He hummed something in response before sliding all the gillweed into the cauldron, turning the clear liquid into a bubbling forest green.
“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” she asked.
He took his time finishing the note he was jotting down before he answered. “I’m not being nice. It’s just called being civil. You said it yourself, we see each other at balls sometimes.”
“We probably won’t anymore, though,” she mused.
Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up, but his voice remained low and steady. “No. I suppose that we probably won’t. Is your family part of the Order?”
“Hm. Are you a Death Eater?” she asked brazenly. He had no business asking her something like that, and he knew it. Especially not with his family connections.
“What do you think?” he drawled, waving his bared left arm in front of her face.
“Bullshit. That doesn’t mean anything after we learned Glamour spells last year.”
“Guess you’ll just have to trust me, then,” he responded, focusing intently on the bubbling liquid in front of him instead of her face.
“I guess so,” she replied. The weight of her Glamour comment began to sink in--she was right, after all. How had she not thought of it before?
But he was right when he told her she just had to trust him. Could she? Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her propped hand as she watched him work. A piece of disobedient moonbeam blonde hair dangled over his forehead as he diced up the unicorn tail, his eyebrows furrowed in focus.
“Is this why you want to be my partner?” he finally asked after a few moments of silence. “So you can just stare at me while I do all the work?”
“There’s the vain Draco I know,” she said, grinning as she leaned over to punch his shoulder.
He rolled his eyes again, scooting out of arm's reach before flipping back to Amortentia in his book. “You’re insufferable. And it’s Malfoy to you.”
“Fine, fine, Malfoy,” said Y/N. “What do you want me to do, then?”
He shoved his cutting board towards her, the half-diced unicorn tail staring up at her. “Finish dicing this and then stir it in. 9 times clockwise. I did almost all of the work, but it should be finished after that.”
Y/N sent him another glare before doing as he said. The glittering quill kept catching her attention from the corner of her eye, and she couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy was writing with just a plain white quill for the time being. HE really did just give it to me.
After the final ingredients were diced, she began to stir, each rotation around the cauldron turning the potion to a different color. It began as the bubbling green, then a deep sea blue, then a royal purple, a crimson blood red, a glimmering gold--before settling into a pale silver.
“Wow. It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “It’s like...liquid starlight.”
“All thanks to me,” said Malfoy. “You didn’t even have to crush the Mandrake root.”
“You’re such a gentleman, Malfoy.” Her voice dripped in fake sincerity. “So, what do you smell?”
Y/N was expecting him to scowl at her and tell her that it wasn’t any of her business, but he actually leaned over the cauldron and shut his eyes.
“I’ve never been good at explaining what things smell like.”
“Fair.”
Once he leaned back, she took his place, shutting her eyes and breathing in a tendril of the beautiful potion. “Whoa.”
“What’s it for you?”
“I don’t...know,” she admitted. “It’s not something I can describe note by note. It kind of reminds me of something, though.”
“Something with Potter, I presume?” he said, casually twirling his generic white quill around his fingers.
“No,” she answered, surprised at how honest she was being. “It’s…I’m trying to think. Er, it’s very lavish. It reminds me of when I was younger and my parents would drag me to galas and balls and whatnot.”
He stared at her in silence.
“What about you? Does it remind you of anything?”
“Yeah.” Malfoy reached forward to put a lid on the cauldron, effectively shutting out the steam from reaching either of them.
“Ooh, have you figured it out yet?” she teased, crossing her legs and turning to face him head on. “Let me guess. Is it someone like…”
She paused, a wicked smile stretching across her face. “Oh my god, is it Hermione? Or Luna? Or...help me out here!”
“No.” His voice was sour.
“Ah, it’s Parkinson then, isn’t it? Tell her I’m sorry for throwing food at her if you ever have the chance. Make sure to add the part where I’m more sorry that I missed.”
“Y/L/N!”
“It’s okay. I’d be a little let down, too.”
“Can you please just…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please just stop. I haven’t figured it out. Okay? Happy now?”
“I’ll leave you alone,” said Y/N. “Under one condition. You give me a hint. I’ve given you everything I know! This isn’t fair.”
“This doesn’t have to be fair,” he hissed.
Y/N kept the easy smile plastered on her face while she waited, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.
“You’re not going to let up until I tell you, are you?”
“You’d be right on that,” she said, sugary sweet.
“Fine. It’s something kind of floral.”
“How descriptive,” she snorted as she slumped back in her stool, thinking hard. Where had she smelled it before? Y/N shut her eyes, leaning her head back and trying to immerse herself into the memory that had surfaced. It smelled like grandeur, like an open ballroom full of guests wearing expensive perfumes. She could feel spinning, spinning like she was with a dance partner. Who was it? She couldn’t quite remember--the last ball she’d been to had been years ago--but after she leaned forward and smelled the Amortentia once more time, she came to a conclusion.
“I had to have danced with him at a gala before,” she announced to Malfoy, who was looking quite unimpressed. “So I know it’s no one from Gryffindor.”
“Interesting,” was all he said before turning to his parchment and jotting something down.
Late that night, while Y/N was settling into bed, a strange idea struck her. Sure that the thought that was nagging her was completely fruitless, she had no trouble with reaching into her desk and pulling out the Malfoy box. She just had to check if she wanted to sleep well.
Here goes.
She closed her eyes, imagining the expensive scent of her Amortentia. Then she opened it, stuck her nose into the fabric, and breathed in.
Well, fuck.
~
The internal debate going through Y/N the next day at the breakfast table was intense. On one hand, she really, really wanted to just tell Hermione that Malfoy had been in her Amortentia and she was completely fucked, but on the other…
She glanced at the witch next to her as she methodically sliced her toast into perfect, equivalent squares before dunking them in jam. Y/N liking Malfoy was not going to fit into her toast cubes. If she said anything, she would lose her excuse to talk to her about him. And her excuse to try and get close with him.
Perhaps I can figure it out tomorrow.
When tomorrow came, she still hadn’t made progress. Y/N was beginning to think that her so called “revelation” after they brewed Amortentia was truly just complete and utter bullshit. So what that his quill box smelled like it--all rich people kind of smelled the same at some points, and so did their houses. There was a reason why she couldn’t immediately pin the scent to anything--it wasn’t like she even knew what Malfoy smelled like.
But the truth remained that she was still attracted to someone who happened to be a rich Slytherin--so naturally, her mind began to wander. There’s no way it was Zabini--his mother owned a fragrance line, and she would’ve instantly recognized the cologne that she knew Mrs. Zabini made him wear--and there was absolutely no way that it was Crabbe or Goyle, so the only other Slytherin it left was...Nott? But that didn’t make sense either--she’d never spoken to him before in her life, even less than Malfoy. So perhaps it would be better if she didn’t think on it.
The next day of potion brewing came on a stormy Wednesday. Malfoy and Y/N worked silently together to brew a Draught of Dreamless Sleep. She was surprised to see how practiced his movements were--he didn’t even have to reference the book to recite the exact measurements and directions.
“Do you have bad dreams or something?” she asked, mostly as a joke. He didn’t seem to pick up on the light-heartedness and stiffened up.
“No?”
“Gee, you’re talkative today,” Y/N said, trying to ignore how her hand brushed his by accident when she added the scoop of anjelica.
“Excuse me for not entertaining you,” he drawled. “I wasn’t expecting to have such a needy potions partner today.”
“I am not needy!” she gasped, smacking his arm. “I’ve sat in silence for a full hour!”
He rolled his eyes (he was always rolling his eyes) and gave the potion one more final stir before setting the lid on the cauldron. “Think you can do that again? It needs to simmer for that long.”
“Just because you’re so sweet to me,” crooned Y/N before pulling out a heavy book from her satchel. Her Charms exam was tomorrow, and, naturally, she had decided to save all of her revising work until the night before. The textbook stared back at her as she jotted a few notes onto a previously blank sheet of parchment. The quill in her hands was light and glided across the paper like the tears of Merlin, something that she had forgotten quills could do. All of her familiar basic quills were okay, but they were prone to skidding and breaking. This nib hadn’t worn down in the slightest, still at a smooth and defined peak.
Y/N couldn’t believe that, out of all people, the person to give her such a thoughtful gift was Draco Malfoy. She tried to sneak a glance at him then, moving her curtain of hair away from her face. It took all she had in her to not be startled at the fact that he was already looking back, a slightly concerned expression etched into his face.
“Is something wrong?”
He snapped out of it the moment the words left her lips, his face hardening. “No.”
“Forget I ever asked,” she responded, turning away from him for good and focusing on her textbook. No, there was no way he could be what she smelled in her Amortentia. She liked to think that her subconscious wasn’t secretly a masochist.
~
Friday evening swung around again, much to Y/N’s dismay. She’d had a talk with Hermione later on in the week, confirming that no, she did not smell Malfoy in her Amortentia, and that yes, she was still abiding by the plan that Hermione had so carefully laid out for her. It did bother her a bit that she could be lying to her on both fronts--but at the end of the day, she was going to get the answers that Harry wanted, no matter what.
She just had to get through the scary ass castle first. She’d forgotten how spooky Hogwarts was after her previous sprint to the door, and this time she was positively trembling by the time she turned another dark corner on her way to McGonagall’s office. Yet another cursed item had been found in the girl’s lavatory on the 3rd floor, right by some of the classes that she had taken earlier in the week. The fact that whoever was out there was capable of dark magic and actively wanted to hurt people terrified her, all that Gryffindor bravery be damned.
So when she heard footsteps suddenly right beside her, it was no wonder that she jumped feet in the air.
“Fuck!” she sputtered, turning to see a very familiar blonde in Slytherin robes. He was frozen in place, curiously looking her up and down.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Malfoy,” Y/N said, resisting the urge to melt into a puddle of relief at the sight. This wasn’t right--wasn’t he a suspected Death Eater? “You scared me.”
He scoffed, digging his hands into his pockets. “You’re supposed to be the brave ones, right?”
“Huh?”
Malfoy motioned to her Gryffindor jumper.
“Oh.” Heat rushed to her cheeks as she realized what he meant. “I dunno. I just get jumpy around the castle at night.”
“No shit.” They’d begun to walk now, side by side. Y/N couldn’t remember ever walking with him before--she’d always been late. “Do you think I forgot the way you screamed when you saw me at the tower?”
“Shut up,” she grumbled, reaching over and giving him a healthy shove.
They walked in silence together. Malfoy moved noticeably slower than he normally did so he wouldn’t leave Y/N’s shorter legs in tow. McGonagall seemed pleasantly surprised to see Malfoy hold the door open for her.
“I’m glad to see you two getting along,” she said, giving Y/N a hesitant nod before grabbing the stack of papers on her desk. “I’ll be back momentarily.”
After she exited the room with a swish of her deep maroon robes, Malfoy turned to her. “Are you scared of the dark or something?”
She turned, ready to send a biting retort his way, before she noticed how gray his pallor looked...and how big the circles under his eyes were. “You look like shit, Malfoy. Is everything okay?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Oh. Um…” Y/N pause before deciding that the little tidbit of information she was about to reveal wasn’t that important anyways. “I’m just on edge at night at Hogwarts is all. Especially with all that weird shit going on with all the cursed objects. So I kind of hate walking to and from detention.”
Malfoy let out something that sounded like a strained laugh.
“You didn’t answer my question. Is everything okay?”
“None of your business,” he snipped. “I just had a bad night.”
“Do you have trouble sleeping?” she asked, unable to keep herself from prying.
“Something like that.”
“Have you tried lavender?”
“I’m sorry?” He frowned.
“Lavender. Like the essential oil. It’s nothing magical,” she explained. “I just like to spray it in my bed sometimes before I sleep. Or I’ll use a few drops in a diffuser. I have trouble sleeping too, all the time, actually.” She shut her mouth before she had any chance to ramble further.
“It sounds a bit too floral for my taste.”
“Here.” Y/N dug around in her satchel, searching for the tiny spray bottle she kept with her at all times. “Borrow this and spritz your pillow with it before you sleep, and then tell me it’s too floral. I promise it helps.”
He glared at her. She extended her hand with the white bottle that was covered in purple decor, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “I won’t tell anyone that you have it if that’s what you’re worried about or whatever.”
“Fine,” he snapped, snatching it from her hand and dragging his fingers over her palm for just a second. “Don’t expect me to actually try it, though.”
“Just give it a sniff.”
He huffed, but to her surprise, he actually uncapped the top and held the spray hole up to his nose, inhaling in once.
The effect was immediate. Malfoy’s face completely drained of color, becoming even grayer than he’d been when she first saw him under the light. The briefest expression of surprise fleeted over his face before he wiped it off, replacing it with something unreadable and tossing it back at her. “I’m not using this.”
“Why not?”
“Not quite my taste,” he spat.
Y/N was shocked by the sudden outburst, watching as he continued to glower at his desk. “I don’t understand. It really does help you sleep. I know it seems stupid, but I...really think you should try it. Just once, if anything.”
“Why does it matter so much to you?”
“Because I--” Y/N stopped herself before she let her mouth run without check. “I know what it’s like is all. I feel like shit if I don’t sleep. Plus, I have to spend time with you every Friday. I imagine that you’ll be slightly more tolerable if you sleep more.”
“Hm.” He sent her a particularly venomous glare. “Thanks for your concern. Consider me uninterested, though.”
“You break my heart,” she teased, pulling back her hand and placing the bottle on the corner of her desk. An idea struck her.
“And just what are you smiling about?” Draco said. His lips were turned into a sour frown.
“Nothing, nothing,” she responded, her voice adopting a sing-song quality. All she had to do now was wait.
He exhaled, a deep and exasperated sound. Then he turned back to whatever was in front of him.
McGonagall entered the room a few minutes later, nodding cordially at the comfortable silence the two students were in. What she didn’t know was that Y/N was waiting, just waiting for Malfoy to dig through his satchel and stop paying attention to his quill.
She got her opportunity a few minutes later, when McGonagall called him up to look over his latest Transfiguration homework.
“Mr. Malfoy, I’m happy to see that you’re taking more initiative in getting your assignments done...I have to say that you had me a bit concerned…”
While her professor kept Malfoy occupied, Y/N darted over and grabbed his quill.
Ha.
Malfoy frowned down at his desk when he returned, giving Y/N a suspicious look.
“What is it, Malfoy?” she said, hoping her voice conveyed nothing that might hint that she took something of his.
“Nothing.”
“Hm.”
The rest of detention passed without any more discussion. Y/N was eager to run up to her dorm and set up her plan to be carried out the next morning, but she calmed her bouncing leg and forced herself to keep a straight face when McGonagall dismissed them.
“Got somewhere to be, Y/L/N?” Malfoy’s voice called after her as she sped down the hall towards the Gryffindor tower.
“What’s it to you?” she fired back.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his pace until he was walking next to her.
“Aren’t the Slytherin dorms the other direction?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Are they?”
She allowed herself to be amused by the way words flowed out of his mouth when he was slightly out of breath. “Why are you walking with me?”
“You said it yourself.” He kept his eyes cast on the cobblestones below them. “You don’t like walking alone at night.”
“Uh...oh.” Against her will, her feet froze and she was glued to the ground. “You’re joking, right?”
If the lighting wasn’t so dim, Y/N would have good reason to believe he was blushing with how intently he was studying his fingernails. “By all means, I can be.”
“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “Er...I’d like you to. If you want to, that is.”
He shrugged, an elfish expression spreading across his face as he took in how nervous she was. “Well, come to think of it, you didn’t ask me to. I suppose I better get back to the Slytherin dorms anyways. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the Gryffindor Tower right now.”
“Why?” she squeaked.
“Oh, you know, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the cursed things showed up on your side of the castle, yeah?”
She gulped.
“I gotta get going. Don’t want to stand around here too long. This place gives me the creeps.” With that, he turned and began walking away.
“Malfoy?” She hated how timid her voice sounded. “Consider this me asking you to walk with me.”
He slowly faced her, a sly grin plastered all over his face. “Oh? Did I hear that correctly? Do you want me to?”
“I’m only going to say this once,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and trying her best to look intimidating. “Walk with me. Please.”
“I guess I’ll take it.” Malfoy glided down the hallway to her in just a couple steps, sending her yet another smug look.
“You made up that whole ordeal about Gryffindor Tower being targeted, didn’t you?” asked Y/N as they rounded the corner to reach the staircase leading up to the common room.
“You bought it, didn’t you?”
“Who says I didn’t just want you to walk with me?” pushed Y/N. This was as close to flirting as it would ever get for her--but it looked like, somehow, things were falling into place. The heat in her cheeks must’ve been from the excitement of making progress.
Malfoy’s toe caught on the first stair and, if it weren’t for Y/N’s steady grip on his arm, would’ve made him go sprawling across the stone steps.
“Merlin, Malfoy,” she said, immediately dropping her grip from his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”
He responded with an unceremonial snort and a withering glare. The rest of the walk was done in silence, and Y/N noted how careful his footwork became around the Gryffindor steps.
“This is me,” she finally said once they reached the tapestry for the Gryffindor dorms. He seemed surprised, and only then did it strike her that he’d probably never seen the entrance himself before. “Thanks for being such a gentleman.”
“I live to serve,” he drawled.
And just like that, he was gone.
~
Her plan was simple. She had located an extra monogrammed pouch in her cabinet, a rich mahogany color with her family crest in a vivid gold, and placed both his quill and the lavender bottle. She would corner him after breakfast or follow him out of the Great Hall and show him then.
However, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Malfoy was not coming to Saturday morning breakfast. Many people didn’t, but Y/N had never known him to miss it. His normal spot was vacant, and it certainly wasn’t a house-made decision as all of his Slytherin friends were present and accounted for. Y/N couldn’t say for sure, but she could see Parkinson turning her head to the entrance every time the doors thudded open before glancing back to Malfoy’s empty seat when it turned out to be someone else.
Where was that loser?
“Excuse me,” she said to the trio as she stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I think I’m going to go get some fresh air. I have a bitch of a headache.”
Hermione and Harry expressed their sympathies while Ron gave her a characteristic mumble through his mouthful of bread, and she was off with the pouch secured in her cloak pocket.
It was a clear November morning, clearly Mother Nature’s attempt to slowly move the world from the crisp autumn to a cold winter. The sky was clear and the sun’s rays warmed her skin at a slanted angle, casting weak shadows across the courtyard.
If I were Malfoy, where would I go to sulk?
The obvious answer was either the Slytherin common room or his own dorm, but that was without a doubt out of question for her. She wasn’t even sure if she possessed the knowledge to guess which corridor the entrance was in, much less work out the password herself. Beyond that, just getting into the common room and waiting would be...She shivered. It would be a terrible idea while she was clearly wearing a cloak in Gryffindor red and gold trim.
As she continued her aimless wander around the castle, she heard the slightest sound from the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. It wasn’t ever really in use--no one came in there to actually use the loo unless they wanted Myrtle to materialize and tell them her supernatural troubles while they were in the middle of their personal business--but it was often the source of strange happenings.
Like the cursed objects she thought to herself, her nails digging into her palms. But did she care about that right now? Surely cursed objects seemed somewhat...suspicious. Dark magic was difficult to hide, and to a pureblood eye that grew up around magical objects, cursed things shouldn’t be impossible to spot.
And, plus, it was Malfoy she was looking for. None of the students had died from the curses so far, and if she was able to break through and learn something, or at the very least gain his trust, the reward to the Order would be more than worth it.
She stepped in, expecting to see an entirely empty bathroom with perhaps a ghost rattling around at the sink. Instead, a different sight awaited her.
Draco Malfoy was clutching the edge of the cracked sink basin in front of him, rocking himself back and forth and shaking. From her vantage point, she could see that he was dressed in his normal garb--a black ensemble--but his hair was unruly and messy, sticking up in the back like he’d hurriedly tugged something over his head.
A strangled gasp grounded her and halted her curious observations. Malfoy began to make these awful sobbing sounds, like he could barely manage to breathe.
Y/N was frozen in place as she surveyed her options. If she stayed and tried to talk to him, he might react in anger or hurt her. But if she just left him, like this, all alone...She swallowed once before stepping forward.
“Malfoy? Are you okay?” Obviously he’s not, you bint said a voice deep in her brain. She pushed it aside as he swung around, his wand raised and his eyes blazing. “Whoa! I’m not going to...Put your wand down!”
He stared at her, his eyes wide with horror as he continued to shake, so much so that his wand slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Without thinking, Y/N reached into her pocket and flung her wand away, holding her hands up.
“I’m not going to try anything. I promise.”
As she drew closer, she could see the remnants of tears on his wet cheeks and the way that his silver eyes were rimmed with a bloodshot red.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he hissed, his voice weak and cracking.
“Neither should you. This is the girl’s bathroom.”
final a/n: ok so lmk if you guys wants me to continue. i really did not edit the last half fjkdsal;f also kinda made this an au where malfoy tried to assassinate dumbledore. with more than one cursed object but dw it’ll all make sense ill clear that up 😭
#draco malfoy#draco x reader#draco malfoy x reader#draco imagine#draco malfoy imagine#draco x you#draco#draco malfoy x you#draco x y/n#draco malfoy x y/n#draco x oc#draco malfoy x oc
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Rebuilding Family
Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.
Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader
Masterlist
Chapter 10
You were packing up your stuff as students filed out of the lecture hall, it was your last class of the day. As you were walking out towards the parking lot, your phone started to vibrate in your bag. It was the school.
“Hello?” you answered.
“Hi Y/N. It’s Mrs. Flynn. I was just calling to let you know that Jo is now waiting inside with me because she was getting cold outside,” she informed you.
“Spencer’s not there?” you questioned, looking at the time displayed on your phone.
Pickup time was fifteen minutes ago.
“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Sorry for the inconvenience,” you opened your car door and set your bag down in the passenger seat, turning on the ignition.
“No worries, I have to reorganize the classroom library anyways so I was already planning on staying after.”
Once the call ended, you tried to call Spencer but it went straight to voicemail.
“Hey Spencer, I don’t know if you forgot but it was your day to pick up Jo. I’m getting her now,” you said as you reversed out of your parking spot.
Minutes later, your phone rang again. Expecting Spencer’s contact to show up on screen, your brow furrowed when the name read “JJ” instead.
“Hi JJ?” you said, more of a question than a greeting.
“Y/N, Spencer has been shot. I already told Will to go back to the school to pick up Jo. You should get here if you can. He’s in surgery now but there has been no update since he went in,” JJ explained.
“Oh my god. Okay, I’m turning around now. How did this happen? He didn’t mention he was on a case?” you pulled into a random parking lot to turn around.
“Well technically, we weren’t. We had a lead on a possible local case and we went to interview a potential witness who could give us some more information. We realized too late that he was the unsub. He thought we were on to him and shot Spencer in the leg while trying to escape.”
You had silent tears running down your face.
“I’m five minutes out” is all you could muster and then you hung up the phone.
You ran into the ER doors to find the rest of the team in the waiting room. You were glad you went to Rossi’s dinner party now or else this would have been a much more awkward first meeting.
“Any updates?” you asked frantically.
“No,” Derek sighed, “But no news is good news.”
You took the empty seat in between JJ and Penelope and put your face in your hands, not wanting everyone to see your tears.
-
Two hours of crappy coffee and vending machine snacks as your only source of sustenance later, a doctor emerged from behind the double doors.
She had a completely neutral expression that you couldn’t read but then again you weren’t a profiler.
“Dr. Spencer Reid?” she asked, glancing down at her clipboard.
All of you stood and desperately crowded around her.
“Dr. Reid is in stable condition and awake. The bullet went into his thigh but it wasn’t through and through. He will need to be on crutches for about a week or so but luckily the bullet wound is near the edge of his thigh rather than the middle, meaning recovery time will be shorter,” she explained.
There was a collective sigh of relief along with a few “thank god”s.
“Although he is awake, I don’t think it’s best if you all go in at once since he is very drowsy. He has been asking for a Y/N?” the doctor looked around at you all.
All eyes fell on you. You collected yourself, grabbing your purse and following the doctor down the hall.
“I’ll let you know how he is,” you told everyone before you disappeared past the double doors.
The doctor guided you into a room at the end of the hall. You thanked her quietly and she nodded in acknowledgement, leaving you two alone. Spencer had his eyes closed but his hospital bed was inclined so he was sitting up slightly. You briskly walked over and took the seat right beside him. You took his hand in yours and squeezed it lightly, combing his messy hair out with your fingers.
As you were softly massaging his scalp, you heard a light groan. You retracted your fingers immediately as Spencer began to open his eyes.
Once Spencer took in his surroundings, he quickly sat up completely in bed, letting out a yelp of pain.
“Jo...it was my turn to pick up,” he said frantically.
“Hey, look at me, Spence. It’s okay, she’s at JJ and Will’s. You were shot in the thigh though so you’re not going anywhere. Please lie back down,” you assured him.
He nodded his head, relaxing a bit and looking down at his hands in his lap. He seemed to be processing something in his head.
“You called me ‘Spence’,” he stated.
Shit. That was twice now. It keeps slipping.
“Sorry, I-,” you began to ramble some apology that you didn’t even know where you were going with it. Luckily, he stopped you before you could further embarrass yourself.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he spoke softly as he looked up at you, tears threatening to fall.
“I was so scared, Y/N,” he sobbed.
You swiftly pulled him into your embrace, tucking his head into your neck as you began to gently stroke his hair again.
“It’s okay, let it out. I can’t imagine what that was like. I’m so sorry you had to go through that but you're safe now, I promise,” you whispered to him.
“I was so afraid I was going to abandon you and Jo again. It hurt worse than the actual bullet,” he muttered into your neck.
You removed your hands from his hair and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look up at you.
“Spencer Reid, you did not abandon Jo in the first place so there is no ‘again’. Second of all, you would have died a hero saving lives and I would have made sure Jo knew that and she never forgot her Daddy or how much he loved her,” you spoke earnestly, never breaking eye contact.
Spencer’s eyes softened. A second later, his lips were on yours again. This time, however, you didn’t pull away. Life was too short and this was already complicated as is, what’s the harm.
You basked in the familiarity of his lips locking with yours. Once he finally pulled away for air, he rested his forehead against yours.
“Go out with me. A real date. No more college dorm dates with takeout,” he smiled.
“You know you didn’t have to get shot to ask me out, right?” you teased.
“I thought I needed a grand gesture,” he beamed, chucking lightly.
“Yeah, Spence, I’ll go on a date with you.”
His lips found yours once again.
-
“Jo, are you ready?” you called out from the kitchen, packing snacks.
“Mommy, I’m already at the door!” she exclaimed.
Jo was eager to go see her Daddy at the hospital. You would spend the day there until he was discharged and then he would live with you guys for the week. You insisted on being there to take care of him while he was healing. You didn’t want him hobbling around all alone in his apartment.
When you walked out to the front entryway, there was a stack of various toys and books that hadn’t been there when you came down the stairs.
“What is this?” you gestured to the pile, amused.
“Daddy has big boo-boo so he needs stuff to cheer him up,” she stated.
“I don’t think we are going to be able to bring all this. Plus, remember Daddy is coming home with us later today. So here’s what we will do,” you handed Jo her dinosaur backpack, “You pack all the stuff you can fit in this bag that you think Daddy needs right away and the rest of the stuff can wait.”
Jo made quick work of sorting through her massive pile, trying to decide what would make her dad the most happy.
-
“Daddy!” Jo excitedly screamed, running towards the bed.
“Jo!” he returned with the same sentiment.
She was unable to get up on the bed herself so you had to lift her up.
“Remember what I said, careful with Daddy or he won’t get better,” you reminded her.
“You can sit her on my good leg,” Spencer patted his right thigh where you gently set Jo down.
“We brought you loads of stuff, Daddy,” Jo chirped, looking over at you.
You revealed a box of donuts from your bag and the coffee tray you had been holding. You handed him a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles and Jo a strawberry frosted with sprinkles. The two ‘cheers’ed their donuts before biting into them.
“Jo also brought you some things to cheer you up,” you handed her her backpack.
First, she promptly pulled out a pink Disney princesses band-aid and stuck it on Spencer’s already bandaged thigh.
“You need that so it doesn’t get infected,” she repeated Spencer’s words from when she fell at Rossi’s dinner party.
“Thank you, princess. What would I do without you?” he kissed the top of her head as she rummaged around in her backpack some more.
She set up her five favorite dinosaur toys on his tray table in front of them, glancing up at him for approval.
“Perfect,” he smiled, nodding.
Next, she pulled out a piece of paper that had been colored on.
“Who’s this?” Spencer asked, looking at the three stick figures doodled on the paper.
“That’s you, that’s Mommy, and that’s me,” she pointed to each of the sketches.
“Aw, that one is definitely making the fridge,” you smiled.
Finally, Jo took out her Magic Tree House book that she was currently reading. She needed help with some of the words but either you or Spencer or the both of you would help her read it every night.
“You already finished the last one?” Spencer picked up the new book that was next in the series, examining it and smiling proudly.
“And I didn’t need help with a single word on the last chapter,” Jo beamed.
“You’re so smart,” Spencer kissed her head again, “let’s see how far we can get on this one before we can go home.”
#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#reid x reader#spencer x reader#cm fanfic#spencer reid#criminal minds
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hii would you write a coops fic that takes place before they’re out when they’re still sneaking around but have like a sweet date night at remus’s apartment
Of course! This is a continuation of Newcomers and Nargles, where Remus babysits Luna Lovegood. Hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3
“Thank you for having me over,” Sirius said quietly as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth. The only light came from his kitchen, which was far enough away that they were left in soft shadows on his couch. “Really, Re, this is wonderful.”
“There’s no need to be so formal,” he laughed, though Sirius could see the pink flush spreading to his ears. “It’s just pasta and my apartment.”
“I love your apartment.”
The flush deepened. “Moody calls it my hamster cage. You had to duck to get in the door.”
“Details.” Sirius leaned forward for a proper kiss to his lips; they had set a timer for the pasta and had a while yet, if his memory was correct. Plenty of time to settle himself more comfortably in Remus’ lap and kiss him until he got the glazed look in his eyes that Sirius adored.
He wanted this all the time. To come home with Remus every night, without fear of the wrong person (or anyone, really) seeing them. He wanted to kiss him in public and keep his hand in Remus’ back pocket like a cliché movie couple and watch Remus light up when he held his hand. He wanted.
Remus made a soft noise and slid his arms around his waist, holding him light and cozy while he traced small swirls on the small of Sirius’ back. It sent goosebumps racing along his spine—Sirius cupped Remus’ jaw in his hands and hummed his approval. The room was so wonderfully warm, filled with the smell of cooking pasta and sauce on the stove. They had made it together; shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, trading kisses in the steam.
God, he wanted it so much it ached.
Remus trailed light kisses along his neck, taking pauses to nuzzle Sirius’ skin and nibble his collarbones. Sirius buried his face in honey curls and let himself believe this was his everyday life. Their everyday life.
A quick knock at the door shattered the illusion. Sirius felt the blood flee his face as they both froze. “Who is that?” he managed.
“I don’t know,” Remus whispered. His pupils were dilated with fear and, with a pained look, he guided Sirius off his lap so he could stand and turn the rest of the lights on. His slender hands smoothed his sweater and jeans in methodical movements, but Sirius saw their tremors.
He distracted himself from panic by looking around the apartment and all its knickknacks; the feeling of being surrounded by Remus in his most distilled form was unparalleled. A little granite wolf figurine sat with its wooden counterpart on the table by the door; dozens of pictures of family and friends scattered the walls with no rhyme or reason to their placement. It was cluttered in the best possible way, and Sirius wanted his whole life to look like it.
The door clicked open. “Hello?”
“Remus!” a woman’s voice exclaimed. “I’m so glad you answered.”
Sirius glanced over and saw Remus’ whole body relax as he opened the door further with a smile. “Hey, Pandora, how are you?”
“Doing fine, doing fine. It’s Phil and I’s anniversary and we’ve got dinner at 7:18, but Luna’s babysitter came down with a cold and can’t make it. We just got the text an hour ago and we were hoping you could watch her while we’re out.”
“Oh.” Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “I—well, I have a friend over for dinner, but we made plenty of pasta for one more, I s’pose. Sirius, is that okay with you?”
It took him a moment longer than was prudent to get over the fact that Remus—kind-hearted, friendly, beautiful, so beautiful—was asking his opinion on letting a kid join their date. Their top-secret, possibly-life-ruining-if-discovered date. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Oh, I’m so rude!” the woman gasped. She poked her head around the doorway and waved to Sirius—her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder in a messy plait, and her dress seemed to be made of a variety of beads. She was pretty, with a combination of angular features and a heart-shaped face that nudged a memory in the very back of his mind. “I’m Pandora Lovegood, from 7A. It’s so lovely to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you as well.” He padded over and held a hand out to shake, but to his surprise she took it turned it over, furrowing her brow at his palm.
“Well, that’s quite the love line!” She smiled and patted his cheek. Her eyes were glacial blue, but somehow still as warm as a crackling hearth. “Good for you. Your life line isn’t bad, either. I’ll be back with Luna in a moment!”
“Have a good night, Pandora!” Remus called as she fluttered away. “Say hi to Phil for me!”
Sirius was still standing in mild shock when the door closed. “Pandora, Luna, and…Phil?”
“Xenophilius,” Remus said. The corners of his mouth twitched. “Her husband, and Luna’s dad.”
“Hell of a name.”
“We can’t really judge, can we?” Some of his amusement dimmed and he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for ruining our date. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, it’s alright,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his cheek until he smiled. “You didn’t ruin anything.”
Remus looked a bit sad as he looked up despite his smile. “Yeah, but this is our only time together.”
“It’s not the last time I can ever come over to your apartment,” Sirius reminded him as he ran his hands up Remus’ arms. “I think it’s great that you’re doing this for your neighbors. It shows how caring, and sweet, and wonderful—”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” he laughed, cutting Sirius off with a vivid blush.
“Besides, I agreed to this.” He nudged their noses together. “I’m pretty sure my impressive love line can handle another date sometime soon.”
Remus grinned as he leaned in. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Black.”
“Are you going to stop me?”
A tumbling sound came from outside, followed by a peal of giggling and a sharp pattern of knocking. “I did a cartwheel!” a tiny ball of blonde curls announced as it launched itself at Remus’ legs the second the door opened. “Hi, Remus!”
He caught her with a slight wince as Sirius tried to calm his pounding heart. “Hey, sunshine, are you ready for some dinner?”
“Oh, yes, please.” She wriggled down from his arms and gave her mother a bear hug, beaming when her face was covered in kisses.
“Be good,” Pandora said as she set Luna down and brushed her hair out of her face. “Listen to Remus and his friend. We’ll be back by ten at the latest. Thank you both again for doing this. I’ll bring over some cookies tomorrow, Remus.”
“That’s very sweet, Pandora.” Remus’ eyes tensed at the edges, as if he was in pain at the very thought. Pandora whisked herself toward the stairs again and Sirius shut the door behind her. “Luna, do you—”
“I remember you!” Sirius turned and found himself staring into the biggest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. The memory came rushing back in a flood—Remus, frazzled and fluffed at the edges, with a little girl balanced on his hip. Luna stood on her tippy-toes and he leaned down so she could take his face in her hands. After a moment, she nodded. “You’ve done an excellent job of keeping the nargles away, Mr. Sirius.”
“Thank you.”
“Mama said you and Remus were making pasta. May I have some, please?”
“Of course you can,” Remus assured her, ushering her into the kitchen with a sweep of his arm. “After you, my lady.”
Sirius waited until Luna had safely skipped out of earshot before bending toward Remus’ ear. “Why does she…?”
“Talk like a normal kid and then a Victorian orphan?”
“Yeah.”
“Dunno. I guess that’s what happens when your mom’s a chemist and part-time psychic and your dad owns The Quibbler.” There wasn’t a trace of judgement on Remus’ face as he raised his voice by a few degrees. “Be careful by the stove, honeybun.”
“I will!” Luna chirped back. Sirius couldn’t place why, but he held undeniable affection for the little girl, even after only two meetings. She was unapologetically odd; he was sure he could never get bored of talking with her.
Luna sat on the countertop while they served up dinner, happy as a clam as she recounted her and her father’s hunt for Fizzing Whizbees at the candy store. They were her mother’s favorite, apparently, but Luna had yet to see one in real life. Her conversational skills came to a sharp halt during dinner; it was so startling that Sirius grew concerned after two minutes without her high-pitched contributions.
“Luna? Are you alright?”
“Hmm?” She looked up from her plate with a curious glance between them and gave Sirius a bright smile. “I’m making an octocapus.”
“An octopus?” Remus leaned over to look. “Wow, you got all the legs with your noodles! Way to go!”
“You’re a great artist,” Sirius agreed as Luna continued working on her masterpiece.
“Yeah, I know.”
He bit his lip to keep in his laughter and met Remus’ eyes; at first, he had been a bit worried about babysitting during a date, but he couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the night. When their plates were clean and Sirius was warm and drowsy from carbohydrates, Remus collected the dishes and headed back into the kitchen despite Sirius’ offers for help.
Luna gave a wide yawn with her head propped on one hand and turned to Sirius the moment Remus turned the sink on. “Do you give Remus kisses?”
It took all of Sirius’ self-control not to accidentally spew water all over the literal child sitting across from him. Instead, he coughed and spluttered into his napkin while the alarms in his brain began to blare. Remus showed no sign of hearing their conversation while he rinsed out the large pasta pot. “What?”
“I’d like it if you did,” Luna continued with nothing but her usual dreamy expression. “Remus needs friends, and mama says he could use some kisses.”
“I think everyone could use some kisses,” Sirius said evasively. His heart galloped in his chest.
“Hmm. Yeah. How long have you been friends?”
“We’ve known each other a little longer than you’ve been alive, but we’ve only been friends for about two years.”
“That’s a good amount of time.”
“Oh?”
She put her chin in both palms, suddenly looking much older than she was. “I’ve been alive for four whole years. That’s a long time. If you’ve known someone for four whole years, you should give them kisses.”
Sirius stared at her. “That’s quite the philosophy.”
“What’s that?”
“An idea.”
“Why didn’t you just say ‘idea’?”
“I…don’t know.”
She hummed a little under her breath. “Will you color with me?”
“Yes,” he answered as relief coursed through him. He had no clue how she had gone from blunt questions that could turn his whole world upside down to coloring, but he didn’t care. “Yes, I would love to.”
Luna slid off her seat and hopped over to Remus’ desk, then dug around in the drawers and emerged with a few sheets of blank paper and some pens. “I’m bad at outlines. Will you draw them for me?”
“Absolutely.”
------------------------
Luna fell asleep halfway through coloring a Kneazle with Remus, which as far as Sirius could understand was just a cat that had its face squished. But it made her happy, and he would draw a million squishy cats to keep her questions about Remus to a minimum.
As soon as Remus finished tucking her in beneath a heavy blanket on the couch, he turned and crushed his lips against Sirius’ like a man dying for air. The kiss lasted long enough that Sirius was staring to get lightheaded before finding himself the (quite enthusiastic) recipient of a rib-crushing hug. They held each other for a few minutes, silent and swaying, before Remus let him go with a final kiss and they began to clean up the mess.
True to her word, Pandora returned just before ten pm with a blond man at her side and a big hug for her daughter. “Goodnight, Luna,” Remus whispered. They received a sleepy wave in response and then, finally, they were alone. “You are the best person ever.”
Sirius wound his arms around Remus’ waist and melted a little when strong hands combed through his hair. “Funny, I could say the same thing about you.”
“I didn’t know you could draw.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I can doodle. It’s nothing fancy.”
“You drew imaginary monsters based on descriptions from a four-year-old.” Remus cupped his cheek and rested their foreheads together. “You’re amazing.”
“This was a pretty awesome date,” he mumbled, closing his eyes to bask in their little bubble.
“We should do it again sometime. Preferably without the child, though.”
Sirius’ smile came all the way from his heart as he buried his face in the slope of Remus’ neck. “As long as I get to be with you, I’m happy.”
It was the closest thing to ‘I love you’ he could bring himself to admit, but for now, it would have to do.
#sirius black#remus lupin#coops#luna lovegood#pandora lovegood#sweater weather#lumosinlove#my fic#fanfic#babysitting#date night
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Smaller Than This
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff/daughter!reader, Peter Parker/platonic!reader, Wanda Maximoff/reader
Description: The reader is Natasha Romanoff’s daughter, best friend of Peter Parker, and girlfriend of Wanda Maximoff. Growing up in the spotlight is hard enough, but things cross a line when people start commenting on the reader’s weight.
Warnings: eating disorder, swearing, threats of violence
Word count: 3,282
A/N: I know it’s not easy to deal with eating disorders, but please know that you are beautiful and amazing and you don’t deserve to have to suffer through that. Please, if you are struggling with this, reach out for help. <3
✩❀✩❀✩
Black Widow’s daughter spotted in Central Park with new best friend Scarlet Witch and Stark Industry intern Peter Parker! Could Parker be y/n’s new boyfriend?
You laughed and rolled your eyes as you clicked on the tweet. Stalking paparazzi twitter accounts had to be one of your favorite pastimes, simply because the so-called facts they were giving out were false 99% of the time. For instance, this situation? You had gone out for a picnic with Peter and Wanda when those photos were taken, and the paparazzi completely twisted things. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend, he was just your best friend. And Wanda wasn’t your best friend, she was your girlfriend. You chose to ignore the false headline as you went immediately for the replies.
‘Do you see the way y/n’s looking at Wanda? It seems more like there’s something going on between them than there is between y/n and Peter’
You smiled and liked that tweet. You liked messing with people just a bit. Whenever someone would tweet about there possibly being a relationship between you and Wanda, you liked the tweet. It wasn’t enough information to actually confirm the relationship as true, but it was enough to keep people speculating.
You scrolled through several more replies. Most of them were people using the heart eyes emoji or saying how much they loved your mom, but there were a few in there that stuck out more than the rest. That was because they were harsh and hurtful.
‘I don’t understand how someone can live with the Avengers and still look like that. Does she ever even exercise?’
‘She could stand to lose some weight. Instead of going out for a picnic, she should try to skip a few meals’
You read through replies for a few more minutes. Similar comments would pop up now and then, and while there wasn’t an overwhelming amount, there was still enough to make you close down the app and shut off your phone, averting all your attention toward not crying.
“Miss y/n, dinner has been called,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang through your room.
Pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind, you got off your bed and made your way to the dining room. There, Peter and Wanda were setting the table while Steve and Bucky carried out the food.
You walked up behind your girlfriend and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder. You felt her jump slightly before she realized it was you and relaxed into your touch. You placed a kiss on her cheek.
“I love you,” You whispered in her ear.
“Hey! What did we talk about?” Tony directed at you, raising an eyebrow at you and causing you to roll your eyes.
“No lovey-dovey shit at the dinner table,” You mumbled.
“Language!” Steve scolded you as Clint joined the conversation.
“Oh, come on, Tony,” He said. “It’s young love. It’s harmless and adorable.”
“It makes me want to hurl,” Tony retorted.
To onlookers, it may have sounded like Tony was being a real dick, but you knew he was just teasing you. He’d never admit it, but secretly he loved how happy you and Wanda made each other.
“Watch it, Stark,” Your mom shot him a glare. “That’s my kid you’re talking about.”
Your head whipped up at your mom’s voice. She had been on a mission for the past week and wasn’t supposed to get home for another three days.
“Mom!” You yelled as you ran toward her, wrapping your arms around her as you squeezed her tight.
“Hey, kiddo! I’ve missed you!” She said, hugging you back and kissing you lightly on the forehead.
“I’ve missed you, too!”
“As much as I hate to break up this reunion,” Bucky said, causing you to pull away from your mom. “Steve and I slaved over dinner and it’s getting cold, so let’s eat.”
You took your seat at the table—in between Peter and Wanda—and filled your plate with the spaghetti and garlic bread Steve and Bucky made. Everyone was silent as you all dug into your food and, you had to admit, it tasted amazing.
When Steve and Bucky first moved in, neither of them were allowed near a stove without supervision. They had started too many accidental fires. But after lots and lots of practice, the two of them easily became the best cooks in the tower.
After dinner, you excused yourself to your room. Your phone was still lying face down on the bed, so you grabbed it and opened it up. Right away, you noticed several notifications from twitter. Upon further investigation, you found that the rude comments people were saying about you had extended to your messages. Now, you had complete strangers messaging you about how you needed to ‘lose weight’, or ‘eat less’, or ‘exercise more’. A few of the messages even called you a ‘disappointment to the Avengers’.
You deactivated your account and deleted the app from your phone, but the damage was already done and you knew it. So you came up with a plan and decided to set it into motion the next morning.
✩❀✩❀✩
You woke up in the morning to your alarm blaring. Checking the time, you saw it was 4:30, and you wondered why your alarm was going off so early before you remembered the plan you had made the night before.
You got out of bed and quickly dressed in athletic attire before running out of your room. You knew Steve liked to run in the mornings, so you sat in the kitchen waiting for him.
When he finally sauntered in at 5:00, he was more than surprised to see you sitting there.
“Y/n?” He asked. “What’re you doing up so early?”
“Can I run with you today, Uncle Steve?” You asked him, a pleading look on your face that you knew he couldn’t say no to.
“Yeah, sure,” He said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be sleeping?”
You nodded.
“I want to start running. My mile time in P.E. class has been slacking lately and I don’t want to fail the class.”
You were surprised yet proud of how quickly you were able to come up with that lie, and you were happy to see that Steve believed every word of it.
So that’s how you spent your morning: running laps with Steve.
The two of you finally called it quits around 6:15 and parted ways. Steve went off to do whatever he did during the days, and you went off to squeeze in a quick shower before school.
By the time you were done with your shower, it was nearly 7:00, which meant you had to rush to get dressed. You finally made it to the kitchen, where Wanda was already waiting for you. The two of you yelled a quick ‘bye’ to whoever was listening before you started the quick walk to the bus stop.
You felt Wanda’s hand interlock with yours and a smile arose on your face as you squeezed her hand. You two didn’t want to publicly disclose your relationship yet, so you knew the minute you reached the bus stop you’d have to let go.
✩❀✩❀✩
At lunch, you sat at a table with Wanda, Peter, MJ, and Ned. You skipped the food line and instead opted to sip at a bottle of water.
“What’s wrong, y/n?” Peter asked you.
“What do you mean?” You shot back, not quite sure what he was getting at.
“You’re not eating.”
Shit. You had to think of a lie, and you had to be extra careful since your girlfriend could read minds. She promised you she’d never read your mind without your consent, but you were still wary.
“Uh...I’m just not feeling well,” You said. “My stomach is feeling a little flip-floppy and I don’t want to push it.”
To your luck, they nodded it off and changed the topic, not questioning you again for the rest of the day.
That night at dinner, you pushed the food around on your plate, eating a few bites here and there. It wasn’t hard to pretend you had eaten, especially since your family was so big. Everyone seemed to be so caught up in conversations with other people that they didn’t notice when you got up and scraped your food into the trash.
✩❀✩❀✩
These habits carried on for a few more weeks. You’d wake up every morning to run with Steve, make up some excuse for why you didn’t eat lunch, and you’d have a few bites of dinner before sneakily trashing it. On most weekends, you chose to spend your time training with your mom. You claimed it was so that you could stay sharp with your self-defense skills, and while that wasn’t necessarily a lie, it wasn’t the full truth, either. But your mom never questioned it, and you were glad.
You seemed to fly under the radar, until one Sunday afternoon.
You walked into your room after training with your mom to find Peter and Wanda waiting for you.
“Hey, guys,” You greeted, throwing yourself into a chair and downing half a bottle of water. “What’s up?”
“We know,” Wanda said, a stern yet concerned look on her face.
“Know what?” You asked her, although you could feel your heart rate rising. You knew what she was talking about.
“That you haven’t been eating,” Peter joined in.
“What’re you talking about? Of course I’ve been eating.”
That was a lie. Your stomach hadn’t been properly filled in weeks and you couldn’t remember the last time it wasn’t rumbling. But that wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that you were finally losing weight. There’s no way you could stop now.
“Cut the crap, y/n,” Peter said, catching you by surprise. “We’ve been watching you. I can’t even remember the last time you bought a school lunch.”
“And you pick at your food at dinner every night,” Wanda added. “I haven’t seen you eat more than three bites. You think no one notices, but you’re wrong. And I can feel you, love. You feel...empty.”
Wanda rested her hand on your knee as you tried to process what was happening. You had been so good at hiding this, how had they found out?
“You guys, I’m—” You started before Peter cut you off.
“Don’t say you’re fine, because you’re not. We know it, and you know it, so please stop lying to us, y/n. We just want to help.”
“I have it under control, I don’t need help,” You protested. “Just...please don’t tell my mom.”
“Y/n—”
“Wanda, please,” You begged. “My mom has enough to worry about as it is. I don’t need to add this to her stress as well. I promise, I have it under control. I’m alright.”
Wanda and Peter shared a look before turning back to you.
“We’ll keep this between us for now,” Peter said, and you felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.
“But, if things get any worse, we won’t hesitate to bring your mom into this,” Wanda warned.
You nodded and the two of them left, Wanda kissing you quickly before walking out of the room.
‘I just need to hide it better’ you thought to yourself. ‘This is all my fault for being too obvious about things. I need to do better.’
Wanda and Peter had dropped the topic for the time being, until a week later, things took a turn for the worse when your P.E. teacher announced that your class was running the mile that day.
Thanks to training with Steve, your mile time had improved and you were one of the fastest in the class. However, due to malnutrition, any sort of exercise made you extremely lightheaded.
You ignored the part of your brain that was telling you to make up some excuse to sit out. You convinced yourself you just weren’t drinking enough water so you drank an entire water bottle and went to class.
You were about halfway done with your mile when the corners of your vision turned black. You blinked a few times, trying to edge it away, but it was no use. By now, you heard a loud ringing in your ears and the world started spinning around you. You slowed down a bit, trying to regain your composure when you felt your knees buckle underneath you, and you were plunged into a world of darkness, not feeling it when you hit the ground.
✩❀✩❀✩
When you awoke, you were still laying on the field, your entire class swarming around you. You were trying to sit up when you felt something attached to your hand.
You looked to the right and saw Wanda sitting there, looking scared as hell.
“Miss Maximoff, Mr. Parker, please escort Miss Romanoff to the nurse’s office,” Your teacher ordered.
You felt Wanda help lift you to a standing position and once you were up, you felt the world start spinning again. You shut your eyes tight as two arms, you assumed they belonged to Wanda and Peter, wrapped around either side of your waist. Soon enough, the dizziness ceased and you opened your eyes, signaling for Peter and Wanda to start walking with you.
You made it to the nurse’s station where you saw your mom already waiting.
“Mom?” You asked, wondering how she had gotten to your school so quickly.
“Peter called me the second he saw you fall,” She explained.
You, Wanda, and Peter were dismissed from school early, and your mom led you all back to her car. You sat in the passenger seat while Peter and Wanda sat in the back.
“What happened?” Your mom demanded.
The tone of her voice scared you a little bit, but you knew it was filled more with concern than it was with anger.
“I must’ve just gotten overheated or something,” You lied, knowing exactly why you passed out. “I was doing fine one second, and then the next I was on the ground.”
“That’s not true, Ms. Romanoff,” Peter interjected.
You whipped your head around to him and shook your head, silently pleading him to not tell her.
“What do you mean?” She asked. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“Peter, stop,” You said, panicking at what was about to be said.
“Y/n hasn’t eaten a proper meal in a month,” Wanda admitted.
You shot your girlfriend a look of betrayal before turning back around to face forward.
“You, what?!” Your mom blared. “Y/n, is this true?”
Your silence was enough of an answer for her to understand that yes, it was true.
“Y/n, baby, why?” Your mom said.
You could tell she was trying to be strong, but her voice was cracking.
“Because I’m not like you guys, okay?!” You finally snapped, letting loose all of your pent-up emotions. “I don’t have a super-human metabolism like Peter, and I don’t have a perfectly in-shape body. I’m not an avenger and it sure as hell shows. Even people I don’t even know were making comments about it on twitter.”
“Is that why you disabled your account?” Peter asked, realization hitting him.
You nodded and looked down at your fingers, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them.
By now, you had reached the tower and your mom put the car into park, turning to face you.
“Y/n, I know it’s been hard for you to grow up in the spotlight, constantly being compared to us but this isn’t healthy,” She said, cupping your chin and lightly pulling your head up to meet her gaze. “If I had known all of this, I never would have let you do all those extra training sessions with me. It’s not safe for you to keep exercising like this when you’re not giving your body proper nourishment.”
“I can’t—” You sniffed. “I can’t stop. I need help.”
You felt a tear roll down your cheek as your mom brushed it away, pulling you in for a hug before the four of you got out of the car.
Once inside, your mom told you to sit down in the living room while she left for a few minutes. When she returned, she had the rest of the team with her and you could only assume she had given them the run-down on your situation.
You were slightly hurt that she had shared your personal life like that, but you knew it was for the best.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Your mom said once everyone was settled. “Y/n, you’re going to help with dinner every night. I know it can be hard once you’ve developed a food phobia, but when you’re in control of what we eat every night it makes things a little easier. No more throwing your food in the trash, okay? As for school, I’ll be making you a homemade lunch each day, and Peter and Wanda will be keeping an eye on you and will be reporting back to me. First thing tomorrow, I’ll call and set you up an appointment with a therapist. Bottling up your emotions will only make things worse, trust me. You need to talk to someone, and a therapist will help to give you healthier coping mechanisms.”
You listened as your mom laid out these new rules before telling you to go lie down. As you got up to leave, you were bombarded with your family hugging you and telling you they were there for you. You honestly had never felt more loved and supported in your life.
You finally made your way to your room, lying down in bed. A few minutes later, you heard a knock at your door.
“Come in,” You said weakly.
The handle turned and Wanda walked in, using her powers to levitate a tray behind her. You sat up and she put the tray down in your lap. On the tray, you saw there was a plate of cheese and crackers.
You looked down at the tray before looking up at your girlfriend. You forced yourself to pick up one of the crackers and take a bite, your mind screaming at you the entire time. But you were sick. You knew this. You wanted to get better.
“I’m sorry for telling your mother,” Wanda spoke. “You were slowly killing yourself and I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. I’m so sorry, y/n. Can you forgive me?”
“I don’t blame you, Wan,” You told her. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I never should have forced you and Peter to keep this a secret.”
Wanda wrapped you into her arms, squeezing tightly. The two of you stayed like that for a long time before you pulled away and, bite by bite, finished the snack she had brought you.
✩❀✩❀✩
You had been in recovery for about a month now, and while things were far from easy, you knew you could do it. Your family was your support system and they were right there by your side every step of the way.
You were sitting on the couch with Peter and Wanda, you and your girlfriend tangled in each other’s arms as you watched your mom on tv. She was finishing up a press conference.
“Oh, and one last thing before I go,” She spoke toward the camera and the audience. “Whoever decided to make awful comments about my daughter online, I am a trained assassin and I will find you.”
#oneshot#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x daughter reader#wanda maximoff#mcu#mcu x reader#mcu oneshot#wanda maximoff oneshot#wanda maximoff x reader#tw ed talk#tw ed stuff#eating disoder mention
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Forever Was a Long Time Ago
Where you and Clay find yourselves caught up in someone elses lies.
- ANON REQUESTED!
- FEM READER!
Prompts!
4) "I never fucking wanted this/that!"
16) "Stop bringing it up"
⚠︎ toxic relationship, swearing, mentions of sex (?), and horrible writing. I didn't proofread either
It was hard to not talk to him, but that was your decision at the moment. You didnt even tell him what was the matter, and you refused to until you found out your real feelings about where you lie. Right now you were mad, fuming, of course you were refusing to talk to him because he dosen't talk to you.
The reason why the distance between you and Clay grew further and further apart was that a stupid tweet from this girl. He knew what he wae doing too, it was like him to do this behind the scenes. It was a tweet that showed him at a dinner table with another person other than you across the table from him. At least they had the decency to exclude his face from the frame, but the hands, and clothes were something you were all used to. The tweet continued on and on, and you believed every word.
He knew what he was doing. He did this often, because jealousy was a big thing in your relationship. You can admit it isnt all just him too, it was a possesive relationship. It wasn't healthy at all and you knew it. Your friends and family knew too, but you two always found yourself in his arms.
Clay liked to toy with you, but this was taking it too far. You ended up messaging the creator of the tweet and they said that everything was true and they went into extreme detail too. They even brought up screenshots of messages that you would deem fake. If it wasn't for your rage right, you would've debunked that right away.
Wallowing in your anger was a common thing for both of you in the relationship. The first time this happend was at a small party Clay invited you to. He ended up flirting and paying all of his attention to another person just to get you jealous. It started off innocent to make something more out of nothing, but became worse with time. You started to do the same to him and vice versa, it became a habit more than a thing to make eachother horny for a night.
The jealousy thing became more of a guilty pleasure, and the guilty pleasure became cheating. For you two it was okay because you two were going back to eachother, it was okay until now. Now a person was rubbing it in your face, usually it was a quick night without eachother, ignoring one another for a week and then getting back together until the cycle completes again.
It was emotionally tiring but you couldn't break out of it, maybe this was a sign to stop.
Today marks a week and a half with no contact with Clay. You had locked yourself up in your home today, you couldn't bother to do anything productive today. It was just one of those days, and it was a day where you wondered if Clay would text or call you. You shamelessly watched his livestreams, you missed his voice, his touch, his whole being. You wondered if his friends were saying the same stuff about you your friends were saying about him.
You were a puppet. You fell everytime his hands weren't pulling the strings and right now you wouldn't be under his control. You refused this time.
Speaking of the devil, your phone chimed signaling that you have received a message. You had opened it and it was one of many extremely vauge texts from Clay.
( Clay )
Im coming over now
[read]
Not bothering to text back, you continued to pay attention to something else. You were ready to confrony him and put an end to this.
It was a few minuted before you heard the lock on your door being unlocked and a voice calling for you.
"You home?!"
"In the living room!"
He reached the living room and sat in a smaller chair to your right. You two sat in silence until you worked up to courage to speak.
"Why are you here?" You asked him breaking the silence.
"Why did you let me in here?" Clay retorted.
"I mean, it's not like you just invited yourself in. You had to have something to say."
"Not necessarily, can I just visit my girl?" Clay leaned back into his seat.
"Yeah you can, but I wouldn't consider myself your girlfriend." You sat up and croseed your arms. Your phone was to your side waiting to show him the evidence.
"Really? What is this, the 5th time you've said that?" Clay rolled his eyes in response.
"You've done the same thing more time than I could count. You have no right to talk."
"I have absolutely every right." Clay smirked. He knew he was getting under your skin.
"So, Why did you go out with that girl?" You asked bluntly.
"Why wouldn't I? I mean it isnt a big deal we're here now."
"To me it is a big deal!"
"It never fucking was before when you were seeing another guy!" Clay yelled sitting up.
"I never fucking wanted this?! I never wanted to see you with a different guy, but here we are!"
"I didn't fucking start this whole cheating rabbit hole thing!" You flared your arms.
"What I saw was that you were talking with that girl for a while! It was months."
"What?!"
You had brought out your phone and pulled up the messages and extended your arm to give him your phone to read. He had taken the phone out of your hand with a confused face on his face. You waited while he scrolled through text messages while an emotion you couldn't read was on his face.
"Would you be mad if I said it was all true?" Clay had this look of caution on his face.
"YES! I fucking would!" You exclaimed in disbelief.
"I still dont know why?"
You stood up wanting to let off some steam. "This is what we do! Dont you see?! We keep going in circles. I go out with a man, and you get mad. You go out with a girl and I get mad, we come back together, but a whole month?!"
"Does it matter?!" Clay stood up too.
"Yes!"
"Remember when-"
"No! We're talking about YOU right now and how this little fling started a month ago. If you loved her that much stay!"
"Remember when you spent two nights over that boys house and-"
"Stop bringing it up!" You interrupted him.
"Then you stop trying to act like you're a saint!"
Pausing for a moment you wanted to get out of this situation. Clearly this argument wasn't getting anywhere or heading to the right place, your body temperature was hot, you needed to clear your head.
You tried walking away, but Clay held you there. "I dont "love" her I never-!"
"You stayed consistent with her more than me!"
"Stop acting like you're such a angel! Acting like you haven't dont the same too!"
"Not for that long! Get that through your head!" You tried walking away again, but he had a grip on you wrist.
You glared at him, staring right into his eyes, his grip getting slightly tighter wanting to make you stay.
"Let me go."
He froze at that and stood still. After sll this time of you two being together, you have never said those words. They had multiple meanings at this moments. One being "let me go physically" and the other being "let me go so I can move on." You had meant both.
"You mean it?"
"What do you think I mean?" You asked, his grip on your wrist stayed there as you awaited his answer.
He paused for a moment and then he started to speak. "You want to leave this relationship. That's what I believe."
"Well. You are right. Clay I'm tired. You know that!"
His grip on your wrist loosened. He was giving you an opening to leave and you took it. You took that opening and when your hand left his you two were done with eachother. The confrontation was quick, it usually was like this, today you just wanted it to be over. You grabbed your keys and a coat from the coat rack needing some fresh air
"You need to leave my house by the time I get back. Okay?" You turned around to see Clay in the same spot you left him in. He nodded and you slipped on your shoes and left the house for the night.
The windows of your car were rolled down as you rode through the streets not having a destination in mind. It was clear to you, a weight lifted from your shoulders and a new opening was near, but you couldn't see it yet.
You could breathe now, nothing else mattered. You had stopped at a red light and you phone continued to light up. There was not that many drivers on the road at this hour, so you opened the phone to a string of messages.
( Clay )
She lied
I was trying to tell you, but you lashed out, but I understand
I'll focus on you I promise. I wont break promises anymore.
Come back
[read]
You sighed looking at the messages and a wave of guilt washed over you. You had found a place to turn your car around and drive back to your house where he was waiting for you against your wishes.
The circle was completed once more.
#mcyt blurb#dream x reader#mcyt angst#mcyt fluff#mcyt x reader#mcyt headcanons#dream x y/n#dream angst#dream blurb#dreamwastaken imagine#dreamwastaken x reader#dream imagine#dreamwastaken x you#mcyt x you#mcyt x y/n#dream smp x reader#mcyt requests#requested
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literally just another giant post of Bakugou faces.
so I did this last year, but I only got up to chapter 120 before I ran out of steam. happily, though, this left me with an additional 190 chapters’ worth of glorious gremlin faces to choose from for this year’s edition! which I figure I had better do, before tumblr finally pulls the plug on my poor sweet image limit.
so without further ado, happy birthday to Kacchan, and happy birthday to Kacchan’s asymmetrical HAH face where his eyes do the thing like ( ◣益◢).
why I like it: so this is from Kirishima’s flashback in chapter 133, where Kirishima was getting all down on himself because his quirk Only Does One Thing, and Kacchan was all “nah bro don’t worry about it because your One Thing is totally fucking rad, and you’re strong enough to withstand anything.” so that of course was incredibly sweet, and one of the few times we’ve seen him give an actual heartfelt pep talk without so much as a single insult thrown into the mix. but what really puts this scene over the top for me is the fact that you can see the ever-so-subtle hints of guilt and regret when he talks about All Might and Kamino. for just a moment, he gets this distant look in his eyes, and his expression turns soft and contemplative. basically this is a rare collector’s edition Kacchan face you will not find in many other places.
why I like it: because this frankly needs to happen in every damn fight until this kid finally gets it through his thick skull to ditch the mask so we can see every fantastic facial expression in full 4k glory. work with me here please Kacchan.
why I like it: because character growth!! this was our first big moment of post-DvK2 Kacchan development, and the payoff was well worth the wait. it only took him 166 chapters to realize that it’s hard to grow as a person if you’re determined to be a humongous dick to every single person you meet!! lmao, but it’s progress though.
why I like it: these two panels are criminally underrated. the way his face transforms when Deku gets the answer wrong dlkjfldk. this is easily one of the funniest subtle gags in the entire series.
why I like it: “hey Bakugou do you want to play in our band?” “fuck you, no.” “pretty please.” “fine, but I refuse to call it a band.” “well then what do you want to call it -- ” “MURDER.”
why I like it: GONNA MURDER EVERYONE BY PLAYING THE DRUMS!!!! SOMEHOW WE’VE SUCCESSFULLY COMPARTMENTALIZED THIS SCHOOL-SANCTIONED DISPLAY OF PERFORMING ARTS AS A DEATH MATCH. OH TO UNDERSTAND THE INNER WORKINGS OF THIS YOUNG MAN’S MIND.
why I like it: hah?! I love how he has to tilt his neck all the way back every single time he does this. he’s so cute I love him so much.
why I like it: somewhere around this point in the manga Kacchan decided to do away with being handsome and decided to just be a full-time gremlin in every single panel. this persisted for the next 90 chapters or so and he was very dedicated. I’m pretty sure he was going for vulgar and intimidating, but unfortunately for him he’s too inherently adorable and so the end result is just endearing and almost charming in its own way.
why I like it: this was from chapter 194 when Aizawa was announcing that they’d have a special guest for the Joint Training arc, and so Kacchan was all “BOY OH BOY A NEW ASS TO KICK.”
why I like it: more character development! and just look at that confidence! he’s fully recovered from his low point after Kamino and the provisional exam. he knows what he’s about now, and he is THRIVING. and once again you can see how his conviction inspires the people around him and makes them more determined. just, he is going to be such a good number one hero you guys.
why I like it: it’s the three little “!!!” lines hovering in the corner next to his head for me. “oh my god it’s All Might, All Might saw me being cool and Saving To Win and stuff, what’s he gonna say what do I do omg quick act natural.”
why I like it: QUICK HIDE YOUR FEELINGS!! WE CAN’T LET THE NEIGHBORS KNOW WE CARE. fjkdlsjklk
why I like it: this is his expression when he first sees Deku activate Blackwhip for the first time. it’s one of the few unguarded expressions of complete surprise that we’ve gotten from him and I love it thank you.
why I like it: classic asymmetrical HAH face. he truly has perfected this look. look at him, casually clinging to a pole for no reason other than to look dynamic. this boy truly cannot sit or stand or walk or do anything normally. he spent three months working his ass off to catch up to Deku and the others, and now that he finally has he’s filled with so much pent-up energy that he simply cannot hold it back anymore and he’s gotta climb a pole. he’s just gotta.
why I like it: because he is so fucking good at saving people now you guys, he’s like a whole-ass professional and shit, and yet it hasn’t changed who he is one single iota. he will save your life and he will SCREAM AT YOU WHILE DOING IT and you’ll sit there and be grateful goddammit.
why I like it: o noo he was caught unawares. All Might was all “I’m gonna have a dad moment and nobody can stop me” and he walked right up to him and put his hand on his head because he’s All Might and so what is he even gonna do about it. nothing, that’s what. you got played, Kacchan. outmaneuvered and outfoxed. all he can do is stand there and make that grumpy face he makes when he’s receiving unwanted affection (҂⌣̀_⌣́).
why I like it: more unwanted affection. now they’re even feeding him ffs. how could he let this happen. mm chicken.
why I like it: GREATEST ASYMETRICAL HAH?! FACE OF ALL TIME. out of all the people to befriend him against his will, Todoroki is by far the most confusing to him and it’s just so great.
why I like it: this is when Hawks is staring at him in chapter 244 because he fake-killed his mentor and stuff and he feels sorta guilty about it. but meanwhile Kacchan just thinks he’s trying to start some shit, and so he’s all “I WAS FASTER THAN YOU BACK THERE YOU KNOW” and Hawks is all “hahaha okay little buddy you just keep telling yourself that”, because as previously discussed Kacchan is too adorable to ever be intimidating.
why I like it: this is from 246 when he’s in the middle of arguing with Burnin’ and all of a sudden Endeavor calls to him and he’s just like o shit what’d I do.
why I like it: because Endeavor’s mentoring them and shit and he’s just casually sitting there eating his lunch like yeah. with his lil hamster cheeks lulz.
why I like it: the look that instantly became iconic. this panel cured me of the misconception that Bakugou “goes to bed at 8:30pm” Katsuki was a morning person. the truth is he loathes all times of the day equally.
why I like it: this one is a team effort because Deku’s faces are equally as good. I’m genuinely shocked that this family dinner with the Todorokis didn’t prematurely unlock Danger Sense. you can tell that he and Deku have a silent agreement to call a temporary truce on their rivalry for as long as they sit at this table as outsiders in this strange land. this is by far the most hazardous meal Bakugou has ever experienced, and yet the mapo tofu is too good to go to waste, so he’s just shoveling it down his throat trying to finish as much as possible before shit inevitably hits the fan.
why I like it: Kacchan is New Here so he doesn’t yet realize that if the Todorokis are spilling family secrets, there is always inevitably going to be someone listening in the shadows just outside the door.
why I like it: the battle with Ending was probably peak gremlin!Kacchan. like, we’ve had gremlin before and afterwards, but never quite to this same degree. Horikoshi really decided to push the limits of contorting this child’s face in the strangest ways.
why I like it: peak. gremlin.
why I like it: nothing to see here, just Kacchan quietly realizing after 252 chapters that he MIGHT have been just a BIT of a cartoonishly villainous asshole to Deku back at the beginning there ha ha ha oh god oh fuck.
why I like it: because he found the answer to What It Is That He Lacks, and he’s all cool and calm and infuriatingly secretive about it. it’s such a sudden and stark contrast to the gremlin faces he was making only moments earlier, and it makes this moment hit home that much more.
why I like it: because this is him being friends with Deku!! like for real though!! because he’s fucking around and insulting him and making weird faces and stuff, but it’s because in his mind That’s What Friends Do. they clown on each other and help each other train and shit. half an hour after this they’ll go down to the training gym and play Catch-A-Kacchan, and then he’ll quietly confess to All Might that he wants to atone. he may be a gremlin, but he’s a gremlin with layers goddammit.
why I like it: because this is right after TomurAFO shows up out of nowhere and scares the shit out of him and Deku and makes them see a terrifying death vision and stuff, and you can see how shaken up he is by it. he definitely understands how close they came to dying just then and he’s sobered the fuck up. this is the moment when it really sinks in that shit has gotten real. eight minutes from now he’ll move without thinking and save Deku’s life.
why I like it: hydro homies. nothing restores those electrolytes like good old Raquaius Sports Drink.
why I like it: because this panel was when it started to become clear that the real reason he grabbed this sports drink was to pretend like he was busy so he could act like he wasn’t interested in Deku’s training because god forbid the neighbors know that he actually cares.
why I like it: because the sideways glance!! and the fact that he doesn’t deny it!! in fact he does the opposite of denying it, and he basically starts pouring his heart out about how goddamn worried he actually is. he’s guilty and anxious and restless and this entire conversation is amazing.
why I like it: he looks so goddamn young here. when he finally stops scrunching up his face and putting on his usual tough guy act and for once allows his actual emotions to show on his face instead, the result is so damn striking. for once we got an entire conversation with no gremlin faces, because Horikoshi had to drop them completely in order to show just how serious he is here. which was incredibly effective btw.
why I like it: because he’s basically just fidgeting with the bottle now to avoid making eye contact with All Might because he just revealed a deep dark secret to him and he’s precariously vulnerable right now. that’s the body language of a kid who knows how badly he fucked up, and just wants to hear from someone else if it’s going to be okay, if he can still make it okay. he looks so small here.
why I like it: the worry lines under his eyes. the look of uncertainty and wanting to believe that what All Might says is true (“you’ll get a chance to talk eventually”). the hesitance to turn back and look at him, and the way he doesn’t dare until he finally gets that small bit of reassurance. All Might isn’t judging him. All Might understands him and understands where he’s coming from, and he’s giving him his blessing. he’s giving him a thumbs up and reassuring him that he sees the change in him and sees that he’s sincerely trying, and basically saying that he has faith that he and Deku will be able to work it out. and you can see that it means a lot.
why I like it: because this kid spent his entire internship with Jeanist doing nothing but bitching nonstop, and then later on when Jeanist went missing he was all tight-lipped about it because once again NOBODY CAN KNOW THAT WE CARE GODDAMMIT, and it was all very Classic Bakugou. but then Jeanist finally shows up again at Jakku, and we get this little moment of happy, smirky FUCK YEAH, I KNEW YOU WEREN’T DEAD YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, and it’s just the best.
why I like it: HE’S SO UNABASHEDLY PROUD GOD BLESS HIM.
why I like it: because he nearly died and then he woke up here in the hospital two days later not knowing where anybody else is or whether they’re even still alive, and this, my friends. this is finally the moment. the moment where he was all FUCK IT, MAYBE WE CAN LET THE NEIGHBORS KNOW WE CARE AFTER ALL. character fucking development. you love to see it.
BONUS:
WHAT HAVE I BECOME, MY SWEETEST FRIEND. EVERYONE I KNOW GOES AWAY IN THE END.
happy birthday Katsuki. feel better sweetie. HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER TREAT HIM RIGHT I AM COUNTING ON YOU.
#bakugou katsuki#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha meta#bakugou meta#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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Glimpses: Part 16 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)
Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter
Summary: A lot is happening.
Word count: 2.8k
A/N: hello again! I was away on a family vacation over the weekend and am sitting in a car on the way home. This is, one again, entirely written and edited on the phone so pls be kind 🥰
Moreover, I can’t believe how many people loved and reacted to the last part. Good confidence boost! Hope y’all will enjoy this lighter chapter as well - a new rollercoaster is already awaiting around the corner ;)
Tag List: @danvers97 @zafirosreverie @srtamercurio @wanatag @pulledbythestars17 @plantowl @spacehahn @sarahp-stan @agentbrownierso @our-blood-is-our-ink @fruityhahn @emril-osvigne
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“You told her WHAT?” Jennifer looks at Kathryn in disbelief.
Kathryn, who is sitting on the couch, tea in hand and a wide smile on her face, looks at her manager. “That I think I am in love with her. Yup. I did that,“ she takes another sip. „Because, you know, I think I am.“
She smiles to herself and looks at her tea before she continues talking. „I can’t stop thinking about her. I want her around. Preferably at all times. I know I haven’t talked to her or anyone about it, but really… the whole thing with Jeffrey really made me realize… I couldn’t touch that man. At all. I couldn’t even bring myself to think about it. Because of her. I really do think this is it, Jen.”
Jennifer looks at Kathryn and for a moment both woman fall silent. “I just… I don’t think it’s a good idea. You might be at the height of your career right now. I just have a gut feeling.”
“Eh,” Kathryn waves the remark off with one hand. “You’re wrong.”
Not giving it another thought, she sips her tea and sits in silence, as Jennifer shakes her head and leaves the room, running into Agnes who is just about to enter. Agnes reminds Kathryn that she had to leave for today’s set in a couple of minutes and collects whatever she needs with her.
Agnes seems to be in a very good mood and occasionally checks her phone to stay on track as she leads Kathryn out of the room towards the car she had called for her. The women slip into the backseat and Kathryn immediately lets her head fall back and closed her eyes.
Lately, whenever she does, she can see your face. She doesn’t mind that you didn’t say anything back after she confessed to you. After all, it was her fault for calling right after work where people usually still need her. Right after she poured her heart out, someone came running towards her and told her to meet the director for an urgent arrangement. Obviously, Kathryn had to hang up right away as the project is top secret and the actors are not allowed to have their phones on set at all to keep it that way.
Seeing the tears on her face, the crew member didn’t say anything about the rule and never planned to report her for using a device in the first place. You saw him on you screen for just a second and realized Kathryn had to leave immediately. Both of you smiled and it felt wrong but at the same time the way her eyes looked made up for it and her apologetic good bye forced your heart to skip yet another beat.
Back in reality, Kathryn opens her eyes again and smiles at Agnes who is placing her hand on Kathryn’s. “You okay, K?”
Kathryn nods. “Better than ever before. I just wish she was here, you know?”
Agnes knows.
Today’s shooting is long and Kathryn’s body aches as she falls into bed that night. Tomorrow will be just as long, especially since the crew has to leave the area for a 2-day-shoot in the mountains. She sighs as she leans up against the headrest to type out a message telling you about it all. This week, time is tight and she hasn’t had enough of it to properly talk to you again. Especially with Jennifer following her every step to make sure she takes care of herself.
Preparing for the long shoot, Kathryn puts herself in a kind of trance, especially since her scenes will be mentally and physically demanding. Two days later, she snaps out of it as Agnes and her sit in a car on their way back to the hotel. Weirdly enough, she is full of energy and beams as her team wants to go have dinner tonight to celebrate the end of the week.
She immediately strips and hops into the shower before getting ready for dinner. Thinking about how it’s only gonna be her and the team, she ditches an extensive make up and is just about to just put mascara on as it knocks on her door.
Expecting Agnes or Jennifer to pick her up, Kathryn wants to just ask for them to let themselves in. But something holds her back, so she gets up and opens the door herself.
It’s you. You, in all your beauty. Your hair the way she likes it best, some make up, an outfit that tells her you know she is on her way to dinner. Kathryn is not able to form any words and just continues staring at you as you fiddle with your hands and shoot her a shy smile.
For a moment, neither of you speak or move, until you take a sharp breath. “I am in love with you, too”, you hear yourself say, before you launch forward, cup her face with both hands and capture her lips with yours.
The kiss is long, but sweet and she holds you close after it ends. “Y/N… you are here… you are real…”
There are tears in her eyes as she reaches up to move a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve missed you so much. Oh god.” She sighs into your ear as she wraps you up in a tight hug while the door falls shot behind you.
A few seconds pass before she lets go and finally faces you. Realizing she isn’t in a position to talk, you take the lead, “I heard you’re going out for dinner?” She nods and cups your face to kiss you again. Hard. Wanting.
“Hold on!” You stop her. “We gotta get going, hm?”
Once again, she nods but you also feel your self slowly being pushed towards the wall behind you. Eventually, your back meets it with a thud, blowing some air out of your lungs. Looking at her, your chore burns and you bite down hard on your lower lip because you can feel yourself spiraling, wanting her, slowly giving in.
“Kathryn…”, you say her name, nearly moan her name. Teasing her with it, you want to see what effect it has on her as you let it roll on your lips. You are finally just about to give in as it knocks on the door again.
Realizing what had just happened, you jump back and remove yourself from Kathryn by ducking under her arms that are resting to your side. She takes a breath and flattens her shirt before running her hand through her hair as she opens the door. It’s Agnes.
“Boss? I’m - oh! HEY Y/N! Nice to see you found each other.” There is a short moment of silence in which she takes in the situation and realizes how out of breath Kathryn, highlighted by the cheeky smile you’re spotting in the background.
She coughs. “The limo is waiting. I’m here to pick you up, the others want to leave.”
Apologetic, she nods once and closes the door behind her again. Kathryn shoots you a short smile, grabs her blazer and your hand and leads you out of the room, following her right away.
The trip is nice. The whole team is there and you recognize Ben, the hairdresser, who is standing with Agnes and Jennifer, right away. As always, the manager acts professional and polite but keeps her distance while Ben wraps you up in a tight hug as he tells you he missed you. There is also a young blonde, whose name you don’t quite understand - Agnes introduced her as the set’s make up artist - and another assistant, who is responsible for all things regarding the project Kathryn is still working on. She seems very busy and organizes something after welcoming Kathryn shortly.
Quickly, you realize that Kathryn invites everyone out for a nice evening as a thank you for their work. She is one of the few people who realize that it takes a team to bring life into a character and it just makes you fall for her more. She shoots you a smile and lets her hand run over your arm before getting into the car where she sinks into the soft limo-seats.
Within the group, you look like you belong. No one would raise any suspicion asking who you are, especially since Kathryn’s set assistant, who is a local, organized a table at a restaurant far away from where the paparazzi would assume an actress would go out to.
The groups time at dinner is great. Once again, Kathryn takes the time to thank everyone and ask about their time and if anyone needed anything that she could provide. Occasionally, she would touch and squeeze your leg under the table and look directly into your eyes as you talk. You love when she puts her arm around the back of your chair to completely face you and take in every word you say. Sometimes, she would even run her index finger over her lip and bits down on it - a common thing she does that makes you forget every thought you’ve ever had. Other than Kathryn, everyone else also seems to be very interested into the stories you tell and they all make you feel like you are right at home, which is a welcomed change to how ex-partners treated you. Not that you and Kathryn are an actual thing.
When dinner comes to an end, everyone is high of laughter and slightly tipsy you are the last person to slip into the car. Kathryn is already sitting in the back of the long couch that fills out the limo. Sitting down, you move a little too fast, prompting her to use your momentum to pull you closer and plant a short kiss on your lips.
Immediately, you pull back and look at the others in shock as you realize you guys weren’t exactly open about it all, but no one seems to think about it any further. Jennifer types on her phone as the make up and hair artists discuss next week’s looks. Only Agnes really realizes and shoots you a wide smile as your eyes meet. Softly, you smile back and, having gained new confidence, lean into Kathryn’s touch who is playing with your hair and place another kiss on her lips before she wraps an arm around you and you just lean against her side.
Back in her hotel room, you sit down on her couch as you are unsure what to do with yourself. Agnes, who organized the whole surprise with you, organized a separate room for you where you put all your stuff this afternoon which is why you seem a little lost right now. She is an angel. Right after Kathryn’s confession, you called Peter who gave you his number just in case you ever needed him. He not only connected you with Agnes - he also offered to take you to the airport. With their help, you managed to get to the woman of your dreams within a couple of days.
Kathryn’s head pops out of the bathroom. “Make yourself at home, honey! It’s all yours as well.”
She shoots you a small smile before she pops back into the room. Sitting there by yourself for a minute, you try to take in everything that is happening tonight and are just starting to wonder where you’re gonna sleep as Kathryn walks back into the bedroom. Locking eyes with you, she walks straight towards you before plopping down next to you on the other side of the couch you are currently sitting on.
A soft smile plays along her lips and her eyes glisten in the bright moonlight that’s coming in through the open window. A light breeze is ruffling through her hair and the whole scene is soaked in dark blue light as the night makes your eyes heavy and you sink into the cushions.
For a moment, you sit in silence as she lets her head fall back with closed eyes and her hand rests on your ankle, slowly caressing it with her thumb. She smiles.
Suddenly, she straightens her back and sits up again, facing you. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You say back with the softest voice you have in you.
“I am so happy you are here. I feel like I can finally breathe again.” Her face lightens up, elevated by the moonlight.
You need a moment to comprehend what she has said before you respond. “I feel like there is no other place I’m supposed to be at.”
Fully focusing on you, she nods as she takes in your every thought while her smile widens. Another breeze comes in through the window and you realize one again how incredibly beautiful you think she is.
Actually,” she takes, “I really don’t want to change that. I would like to have you here.”
For a moment, your brain wonders if she wants to offer you a job - which, absolutely is dumb - but you remember to listen to her as she continues speaking: “If you want to… you can stay. Here. I would love that.”
You feel honored but at the same time you feel like this situation of not talking things out will continue if you don’t take the chance and step up.
You move a little closer to her, rest your elbow on the back of the couch and place your hand (that has been propping up your head) on her cheek, fingertips softly touching her hair. For a blink, you sit there and take in the moment of intimacy before you move a strand of hair behind her air and place your palm against the back of her neck, caressing her slowly.
“Kathryn…. I wanna be with you.” You decide to rip the bandaid off. “I want to hold your hand, kiss you, I want to spend any possible moment with you and just… be.”
Once again, she nods. “I want that, too.”
You both smile. Moving forward, you cross your legs as you take a seat right next to her to take her hands into yours. Her eyes shoot up and she looks at you in anticipation.
You take in a deep breath and collect your confidence to ask a question that makes your heart rate go up so far Kathryn would probably be mad at you for. Right as you open your mouth to talk, the brunette blurts out what is lying on your tongue. “Please be my girlfriend!”
You stare at her in disbelief. It’s what you wanted, but hearing her suggest it is a completely different story. “Please,” she repeats, “I know this isn’t gonna be the easiest ride but… in the short time we’ve been… together… I just.. I want to be with you. REALLY be with you.”
It’s time, it’s time and you can’t hold onto you anymore. You launch forward and pin her down on the couch. Her hands fall over her head and disappear in her wild mane. She looks at you with open eyes and widened pupils as a cheeky grin finds its place on your face.
“Yes! Let’s do it!”, you say before finding her lips and kissing her until both of you can’t breath anymore.
It’s not the romantic situation you’ve always imagined. It’s not the grown-up situation of being with someone older you expected. But somehow, it’s perfect. You remember the countless times she drove you mad. The times you had to hold back. The dreams you’ve had about her and somehow it just seems fitting that this is how she becomes yours. Breathless, on the other side of the world, on a spontaneous surprise after blurting out sweet confessions. After all, you are head over heels for each other which put you in the position you’re in in the first place.
Remembering all the hot longing glimpses she’d thrown your way tonight, you go in for another kiss and deepen it quickly, becoming one with her under the calming moon light.
#kathryn hahn#kathryn hahn fanfiction#kathryn hahn x you#kathryn hahn fan fiction#kathryn hahn x reader#groupie#groupie Au#glimpses
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Asexual!Q x Female!Reader: Logical Fallacy [Ch. 14]
Summary: Q’s got one hundred and two problems. His girlfriend is, technically speaking, every single one.
Challenge: “102 Things A Guy Should Know About Girls” challenge by Miss Chocobo on Lunaescence Archives.
Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (foul language; sexual references; asexual!Q; sexual!reader; a running gag about sexual harassment; double standard: sexual harassment, female on male; sexual harassment played for comedy; James Bond & Reader friendship; civilian!reader; artist!reader; complicated family relationships; reader has a really big family; miscommunications; MI6 would not behave this way in reality; set post-Skyfall; joking references made to Bond/Q)
Pairings: Q/Female!Reader; James Bond/Eve Moneypenny
Tag List: @imaginesfire, @rory-cakes
Master List
Rule #14: Memorize your girlfriend’s birthday. You forget her birthday and you’re basically screwed for life. Not gonna lie.
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”
Q ran as he had not run since his physical examination. The lateness of the hour made the sidewalk mostly empty, but he still had to do a fair amount of dodging other late-night pedestrians. Taxis trundled by, honking in clear derision of the young man flying past them. He did not even stop to give them his usual disdainful glare.
“Shit!”
His shoes slid against the gravel as he rounded a sharp corner; his hands spread wide to grip the nearby stair banister so that he did not fall entirely. A momentary pause for him to settle his glasses back onto his nose correctly, then he sprinted up the stairs.
The moon left blotchy patches of light on the path beneath his feet. He hardly noticed. It was nearly midnight, and he had not remembered. Of all the days to stay late at work. He’d promised–Well, it didn’t matter what Q had promised. It was far too late to keep that promise now.
He pushed the door to his flat open, breathing heavily. The lamps were on, but everything was quiet. No television. No computer. No iPod speakers. There was mud on the bottoms of Q’s feet, but he didn’t care about tracking it through the house at the moment. Eyes darting around, looking for any sign of life, he closed the door behind himself and started to search.
It didn’t take much time for him to find you. You sat at the kitchen table, head resting on your arms, clearly asleep. Q froze immediately. What was he to do, now that he knew where you were? You were dressed in a very pretty [color] dress, and a lot of work appeared to have gone into your hair.
His eyes slid over to a clock by the window. 11:35. Nervous fingers ran a shaky path through Q’s hair. As tempting as it was to just leave you there until you woke up tomorrow long after he had gone back to work, he knew that wasn’t fair. A deep breath filled his lungs, then he placed his hand on your bare shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.
“Mm.” Your eyelids and lips tightened. He shook a little harder. You inhaled sharply just as your eyes popped open wide. “Alton?” you muttered sleepily.
“Hey,” he said, guilt pooling in his stomach. “What are you doing asleep in the kitchen?”
“I was waiting for you to come for di–” You looked wildly around for the clock. “Dinner! We have to get going! We’ll miss our reservations.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “We already missed our reservations.”
“What do you mean? It’s only–” You caught sight of the darkness outside, and then the clock. “Eleven-forty…”
“[Name]…” Q began. Without looking at him, you got to your feet and gathered your purse from where it had been sitting by your chair. “[Name], I–”
You looked at him and smiled. Q had known you long enough to tell it was not your real smile. “Busy day at work?” To avoid looking at him any longer, you bent down to unlatch the straps on your shoes.
“Yes, but–”
“Sorry you had to wake me up. I’ve gotta go take all this off.” You gestured to your face. “Then you can have the bathroom, if you want it.”
The obvious dismissal thoroughly stopped Q from speaking further. He heard you pad up the carpeted hallway, flick on a light, and walk into the bathroom. He pressed a hand to his forehead and sunk into your recently vacated chair.
“Not such a clever boy,” he whispered. Allowing his mind to drift, he dug absently around in his messenger bag until his fingers found a large, flat box. He pulled it out and gazed at it until he heard the water running in the bathroom stop. Better now than later, he thought grimly, and walked to the bathroom himself.
“[Name].”
“Yes?”
“Are you mad at me?”
You lifted your face from the towel and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Then you let out a sigh and slowly set the towel down. “I’m not mad, Alton.”
“But you’re not happy.”
“Of course not. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.” Now Q could hear tears in your voice. Panic made his heart pound a little quicker. He did not like when you cried. He never knew how to handle it. To make matters worse, this time you were crying over him. As if you knew how he felt, you looked determinedly away from both him and the mirror. “Ever since you got this MI6 job, you’ve been even busier than usual. I’m just a distraction you wish was gone.”
“I’m flattered that you want my company so badly,” he said hopefully. Your mood, however, didn’t change.
“It was my birthday, Alton,” you whispered. “And you chose work over me again.”
This was the one time when Q would definitely admit he screwed up. What good would that do, though? Instead, he lifted his box and waved it so whatever was inside shook.
“It’s still your birthday. 11:58. I know–I meant to be home. I should have been. Do you at least want your present?”
He caught a flash of [color] eyes in the mirror, and then you turned around. “You got me a present?” you asked in a tone that suggested you hardly dared to believe it.
“Of course I got you a present. Did you think I forgot your birthday entirely?”
Your smile was a confession. “A little.”
“Well, I didn’t. So?” Q stepped closer to you and offered the box. You took it and tugged the lid gently open. A gasp slipped from your mouth.
“Oh, Alton.”
He pulled the necklace out and let it hang from his fingers in midair. “This one doesn’t have a tracking device in it,” Q explained.
“I love it already.”
He leaned down to kiss you once on the forehead. “I thought you might.”
#fan fic#straw writes#reader insert#second person pov#challenge fic#collective#james bond#q#skyfall#ace!q#asexual!q#james bond x reader#james bond x you#james bond x y/n#q x reader#q x you#q x y/n#skyfall x reader#skyfall x you#skyfall x y/n
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