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tmwcs · 2 years ago

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My Girlfriends Roommate -Chapter 1

Hi loves! Chapter 1 for MGR is here, chapters 2 and 3, (possibly 4) will be posted later today now that I have my account fixed. As stated before this story was something I created with characters I made up; I’m re-editing the original from a request I had received to reflect heeXreader relationship. I hope y’all enjoy.

Pairings: college student heeXyou (fem.bod.reader)

Warnings: None for this chapter. This one is a little slow and is more of an introductory type, outlining you meeting with the other characters in the story.

Summary: I really don’t want to spoil ANY bit of the story, plus I’m sure you can already tell based off the title. All you really need to know is, Heeseung is a stud and you are extremely beautiful ;)

My writing style is known to have a lot of build up leading to the good stuff. Not required but I do encourage you to read all chapters. They all contain juicy build up to the goodness that will be in the last few chapters, and trust me they are…explicit.

My Girlfriends Roommate The air was warm; the frenzied sound of college livelihood enjoying the fresh air can be heard through the open windows of your rather large college dorm. Something about the Spring season made you feel nostalgic and blissful. There was just a natural vibe of joy and excitement at the college whenever the sun was out, and the petals of the baby bloomed cherry blossoms danced amongst the students as they frolicked on campus gardens. A week had passed since you moved into the long-awaited dorm room with your newly acquainted roommate. It was nice to finally embrace your independence, even though the bidding of bittersweet goodbyes to your parents was almost too much to bear.

Tight hugs and pressed cheeks were exchanged before they made the five-hour drive back home. You worriedly questioned yourself at whether your parents were going to be alright now that you were no longer going to be around as the last child to leave home. But you knew it was time to leave the nest, especially after being placed on the waiting list and finally able to secure a dorm nearly a year after applying. Just like you, your roommate experienced the burden of being placed on the waitlist, a shared moment took place when she experienced the joys in finally having one. Vicky, your roommate, was Korean but grew up in (your country) since she was 5 years old. Her voice was high pitched and cute, it was very fitting. She had a heart shaped face, wide eyes that sparkled, perhaps due to the colored contacts that she was wearing, and pouty lips defined by a slight Cupid’s bow that rested below a seemingly short and narrow nose.

An application of delicate makeup enhanced her rather petite but pretty features, while her hair was always kept neat and styled. If you had met her under any other circumstance, you would have thought she was a celebrity. All of her clothes, or least majority of them, ranged from loud colors to gentle pastels, every single article fitted to her body like a glove, ever showing off her thinly frail frame that she maintained. Expelling all the vibes of such, she stood out with the image and personality of a girl who was the most popular and the most loved among her peers. The cheer captain. The one voted to be most successful. The homecoming and prom Queen. Vicky had it all. Fortunately she was humble and very friendly towards you. Fact is, she initially thought you were just like her. Coming from a different school district, she would have no way of knowing that you were actually homeschooled up until your freshman year in high school, under the strict supervision and education of your personal tutor your parents hired, Mrs. Berkeley. The day you met Vicky, you not only inherited her friendship, you earned the fondness of her well established group of friends that accompanied her that day. Seeing you first hand as you took a pause from unpacking, stood up, and offered to help her and her friends with the luggage. You introduced yourself and expressed excitement of having her as a roommate. Though it was understandable, considering you were spent the day dedicated to unpacking, you weren’t dressed as fashionably, or rather, one could say she was just overdressed for the occasion. Initially, you were slightly concerned, most girls that were preppy and high-end displayed judgmental disdain towards anyone who was too casual for their liking.

Not knowing to expect, you prepared yourself for a string of insults to come through in the case they proved that history of behavior never changes. With a knitted top and a pair of high waisted worn-out jean shorts, you presented yourself embracing the casual chic and edgy style that you were partial to, a different sense than what Vicky and her posse reflected. But it didn’t change their positive reception of meeting with you. “Awww so nice to meet you. I’m so excited we’ll be roommates-I’m sorry what was your name again?” Slightly looking down at her with a shy smile, you responded informing her of your name. “I’m Vicky” she mentions with a warm voice, her introduction was quickly followed by her friends chiming in, excitingly stating their own names. One by one you became acquainted with Vicky and her friends. All of which was followed by the sudden mentioning of your looks, which Vicky interjected into the meeting. You had a feeling it was coming. While maintaining the sense of politeness by making eye contact with each girl during their intro, your peripherals could see that Vicky was staring at you, examining every countenance as you smiled and greeted her friends. “Y/n, you’re like…really pretty.” The compliment triggered her friends to follow suit, as if they were all thinking it but didn’t want to be the first to say it. “Yeah I was thinking the same thing.” “I love your hair.” “You’re body is perfect! Do you work out?” “Girl, I envy you.” “I wish I had your skin.” “You have sexy legs.” “Your eyes are so pretty! They look so alluring.” During the two-minute session in receiving immense compliments on your looks, one girl asked the question that changed the topic in an instant; “Do you have a boyfriend?” You responded delightfully with the mentioning of your boyfriend’s name. A former star quarterback from high school. he was one year ahead of you and had accepted a football scholarship through a respectable college that unfortunately, was very distant from the one you were enrolled at. Regardless, it didn’t deter you and him from being committed and loyal to each other. Memories flashed through your brain as the topic monopolized the conversation. All the dates, the times where the both of you were flirtatiously walking and talking for hours, and the perfect night when you gave up your virginity to him under a starry sky. The warm air kissing your bodies while you both savored the entire night by the beach, all playing out like a romantic 80’s film. The conversation was stopped abruptly when Vicky realized she had to quickly depart to meet with her boyfriend. “Oh my gosh! I’m going to be late, I need to go. Y/n it was so nice meeting you, let’s talk more when I get back!” You nodded gleefully as you overheard her and her friends talking as they staged Vicky’s luggage and bid you friendly waves as they left the dorm. “Where are you guys going for lunch?” “I don’t know, Ethan says there’s a place down the street that he thinks I’ll like.” “He would know since he’s been here for a minute. Half way finished with college, lucky him.” “I know! he’s so busy! But it’s going to hopefully pay off.” Vicky’s voice was the last you heard before the door was shut.

Feeling overjoyed at the concept of making new friends, you continued with the rendezvous of settling in the dorm.

#enhypen hard hours #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader

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writingwithciara · 2 years ago

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More Than Once ~Pacey Witter~

summary: the 5 times you made pacey speechless + the 1 time he did the same to you

word count: 4.7k

pairings: pacey witter x reader

warnings: none, but if you find one, please do not hesitate to let me know

a/n: part 1 of my ‘countdown to christmas’ au bingo thing. I’ll be releasing a pre-written fic every day leading up to Christmas (I hope. if i miss a day, i'll post it eventually), where I will have another fic posted (again, I hope). also, i realized that there's very little pacey witter content on here and he actually deserves all the love

masterlist

The first time you made Pacey speechless was when you were new at school and stood up for him in class…

“I’m telling you, Pacey. This thing with Joey is amazing. Maybe we can set you up with someone.”

“You know, Dawson, that’d be great. But I just got out of this thing with Andie, and I don’t think I’ll even be ready for another girl anytime soon.”

“Suit yourself because yesterday, I met a girl who’d be perfect for you.”

“Thanks, but to me, there’s never gonna be another girl as perfect for me as Andie was.”

“Okay, whatever you say.” Dawson grabbed the book for his next class while Pacey was already on the way to his class.

When he sat down, he took the opportunity to look around at all the students. There was one that caught his eye. It was you. The way the sun lit up your hair made you stand out to Pacey. But it wasn’t enough to make him speechless. No. That happened towards the end of class.

“Mr Witter, will you come up here and share your essay with the rest of the class?”

“Why, sir?”

“I feel like your peers should be able to enjoy it as much as I did.”

“Okay then.” Pacey walked towards the teachers desk and grabbed the paper he was handed. As he began reading off his essay, he realized how ridiculous it sounded. And while all the students laughed along with the teacher, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. When he finished reading the essay, Mr Valdez stood up and walked next to him.

“Why didn’t you make anyone else read their essay?”

“As you can see, they have the same reactions to your essay that I did when I read it last night, Mr Witter. You didn’t understand the assignment. But I never really expected someone like you to get it anyway. How are going to make it out in the world if you can’t grasp the concept of a simple assignment? If you ask me, you’re just an error of the education system.”

“That’s not very nice.” You spoke up for the first time that period.

“Miss l/n, I suggest you sit down and not get involved in this.”

“How on Earth are you an educator when you treat a student poorly? Teachers are supposed to encourage their students to learn and grow. They’re supposed to help them when the student is struggling. For the record, I thought his essay was incredible and that he’s pretty damn brave to stand up here and get laughed at while only doing what he was asked to do. I know I’m new to this school and that I don’t know any of you but what I do know is that none of you would be brave enough to endure this ridicule from your peers, no matter how popular or confident you are. Nobody likes getting laughed at. You should be ashamed of yourselves.” You turned back to the teacher. “As for you, just because you’re a ‘teacher’ doesn’t mean you can take advantage of that power for your own personal agenda. Mr. Witter is not a mistake in the education system, you are.”

Pacey was truly speechless. The rest of the class just hung their heads in shame as they listened to Mr Valdez kick you out of class. You gathered your things and left. As you walked toward your locker, you heard footsteps behind you.

“Hey, wait up.” You heard Pacey’s voice after the footsteps stopped. “That was, uh, really cool what you did back there. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Mr Valdez is kind of a prick, isn’t he?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled. “I’m Pacey, by the way.”

“Y/n.”

The second time Pacey speechless around you was when you helped him apologize to Joey, but it wasn’t the good kind of speechless…

Pacey walked into the room and collapsed on Dawson’s bed. You were there with them as well. It was the weekly movie night and ever since you stood up for Pacey in class a few months ago, they had accepted you into their group of friends.

You quickly became best friends with Jen after Pacey introduced you, and although you barely interacted with Jack, he became your friend as well. You didn’t really like Joey or Dawson all that much. So when it was announced that Dawson and Joey broke up, you weren’t very surprised. What really surprised you was when Joey and Pacey notified everyone they were dating. Not only did it surprise you, but it also kind of hurt you. Finding Pacey attractive was the first thing you felt when you saw him.

And then, when they broke up, the friend group was also forced to split up. Pacey got you and Dawson while Joey got Jack and Jen. It wasn’t right. And even though you weren’t fond of Joey, you wanted to find a way for everyone and everything to get back to normal.

“So, she just dumped you without an explanation? Nothing at all?” Dawson watched as his friend got up and began pacing. He had to pause to movie so he wouldn’t miss anything, despite having seen the movie a million times already.

“No. Not a word past ‘this is over pacey’. Like, what did I even do wrong? I know I’m not the most perfect person, but I was really trying for her.”

“I doubt it was your fault at all.” You looked between the two boys and sighed. “No offense, since you both dated her, but she doesn’t exactly strike me as the type of person to have any reasoning behind her choices. She also seems like the type of person who loves having all the attention on her. Just saying.”

“Honestly, that’s not far off. She enjoys having lots of attention on her. Not all of it, but most of it.” Dawson eyed Pacey as the boy had yet to speak up again. “Honestly, I don’t know why I ever dated her.”

“She’s not that bad, okay? She’s just been having a hard time recently.”

“Well if she’s having a hard time, then she should talk to someone about it and get some help. She shouldn’t be making other people’s lives hard too. And she’s been making my life a living hell just because I’m friends with you guys. She doesn’t like me and honestly, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with her right now.”

“Look, you guys, I know neither of you are fond of her at this point, but I could really use some help. I really care about her.”

“Okay, fine. I guess I can help you. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

“Have I ever mentioned how awesome you are?” Pacey smiled at you and for a second, it made your heart melt. Until you realized he was only doing it for Joey.

“Oh yeah. You constantly remind me.” you replied sarcastically, causing Dawson to chuckle a little. “So how do you want to apologize to Joey? Thoughtful gifts? Grand gesture? Heartfelt speech?”

“A heartfelt speech sounds like a great idea. Will you write it for me?”

“I will help you write it, but I am definitely not writing it for you.”

“Alright, deal.” And with that being said, movie night was scrapped while you and Pacey tried to come up with an apology speech. After a few hours, the two of you had combined enough ideas to form a 4 page apology letter that Pacey decided he was going to deliver himself.

For the next few days, you watched as Pacey waited for Joey to accept his apology. But every time she saw him at school or around town, she would keep walking and Pacey would lose hope. It came to the point where you had to take matters into your own hands.

On Sunday morning, you went to the Potter house. When Joey answered the door, she rolled her eyes.

“What do you want?”

“I just wanted to know if you got Pacey’s letter.”

“Yeah I got it.”

“Great. So you can forgive him now, right?”

“I don’t think so. As soon as I read it, I knew most of it didn’t come from him.” She looked at you. “In fact, it kind of sounded like it came from someone who’s so desperate for attention that she would help her crush get back together with his girlfriend.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh please. It’s so obvious. And it has been since the day you two met.”

“Okay, maybe it was true before, but not anymore. He loves you, Joey. You make him happy. God knows why, but you do. I’ve never seen him so happy before.”

“What’s your point?”

“I know you don’t like me, but to be fair, I’m not particularly fond of you either.”

“Oh my god. Get on with it already. Why are you here?”

“Because Pacey is my best friend. He’s miserable without you, Joey.”

“Let him be miserable then. He knows what he did.” She went to close the door, but you put your hand out to stop it.

“He actually doesn’t know. He has literally no idea what he did or why you broke up with him. So if you won’t forgive him, can you at least explain why you broke up with him? He’s a good guy and he really tries. Pacey deserves to be happy. And if it’s because of something I did, you don’t have to worry about me. He and I are just friends, I swear on my life to you, Joey.”

“If I promise to talk to him, will you leave me alone about it?”

“Of course.”

“Fine. I’ll talk to him later. Goodbye.” This time, she managed to shut the door with a little bit of force.

The next day, you didn’t see either of them at school, so you assumed they made up and slept in. It was around lunchtime when you finally saw Pacey. He snuck up on you as you were putting your books in your locker.

“Where have you been? You missed a couple of assignments in class. Mr Valdez was not happy.”

“I didn’t think so.” He sighed and put his hands in his pockets, a thing you noticed he did when he was nervous or about to tell someone bad news. “Hey, listen. I got back with Joey.”

“Really? That’s awesome.”

“There was one rule though.”

“And what was that?”

“That I can’t talk to you anymore.” He whispered loud enough for you to hear. Before you could even respond, he walked away.

The third time you made him speechless was when you stood up for Jack against his father, despite not knowing Jack very well …

It was almost a whole month before you and Pacey talked again. Your science teacher handed out an assignment for you two to work on. At first it was awkward, due to none of you talking, but halfway through the class, it was as if everything went back to normal.

“So, uh, how are things with you and Joey? They going alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah of course. Thanks again for your help.”

“No problem. You deserve to be happy and I’m glad she came to her senses.”

“So do you.” He wrote something about the experiment down on his paper and looked back at you. “We were all thinking about going to the movies tonight as a group and our group isn’t whole without you. Wanna come?”

“Yeah sure.”

“Okay, cool. Dawson’s driving Jen and I’m going to pick up Jack before I pick Joey up. Wanna tag along with me?”

“Sure. I miss Jack.”

“Awesome. Meet me outside your house at 6.”

The bell rang shortly after, signaling the end of the day, so you rushed home to get ready. When 6 o’clock came, Pacey was already outside waiting in his truck when you walked out. You climbed into the truck, and he headed towards Jack’s house. When he pulled into the driveway, you got out and went to knock on the door. Mr McPhee opened it and eyed you for nearly a whole minute.

“Hi. Um, is Jack ready?”

“Not yet. Why don’t you come in and wait for him?”

“Okay.” You took a step into the foyer of the McPhee home while Mr McPhee closed the door.

“So where are you and Jack going tonight?”

“We’re going to the movies.”

“Oh, what fun.” He smiled. “It’s so nice to finally see his interest in girls is showing. It’s way better than who he was interested in before.”

“What? You mean guys?”

“Of course. It’s just unnatural.”

“No, it’s not. What’s unnatural is the way that you, a parent, are treating your child. There’s nothing wrong with who Jack is. Absolutely nothing. He is the sweetest human being I’ve ever met and as far as I’m concerned, you don’t deserve to have him call you dad. You’re lucky to have Jack in your life so if I were you, I would not take him for granted and accept him for who he is. Love him with all your heart, unconditionally. Act like a parent is supposed to. You’re the only one he has.”

“Hey, y/n. Let’s go.” Jack grabbed your arm and pulled you outside. When you got in the truck, Pacey looked between the two of you.

“What took you so long in there?”

“Well I-“

“She just yelled at my dad for not accepting who I am.”

“Really? Wow.”

“You should’ve heard her, man. She was incredible.” Jack smiled at you. “Thank you so much for that. You know you didn’t have to do it, but I really do appreciate it.”

“I had to do it. He was being incredibly rude. You’re his son and he should treat you with love and care.”

“We’re really lucky you found this girl, Pacey.”

All Pacey did was look over at you and smile.

Pacey was speechless for a fourth time when you called Dawson out on his behavior …

Dawson was never one to really put anyone else’s feelings before his own. It was the main reason you didn’t like him. He treated al his friends like garbage, but nobody ever really called him out on it. On more than one occasion, he ignored Pacey’s problem and complained about one of his movies. He took both Jen and Joey for granted when he dated them both.

However, the worst treatment of anyone came around Pacey’s birthday. Pacey only wanted his closest friends to have a nice little dinner, but Dawson wanted to throw his friend a huge party. Not only did he decide to throw the party, but he did it at his place without his dads knowledge. Wrong on so many levels.

And then he started talking about his feelings for Joey to Pacey, who was still her boyfriend. Most of the night, whenever Pacey would try to talk to someone, Dawson would make a scene and do something incredibly dangerous and stupid.

To be fair, most of his actions at the party could be categorized as him simply just being drunk. But either way, his behavior recently was nowhere near desirable. And you’d had enough of it. So when Dawson took the attention away from Pacey once again, you had to speak up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you scoffed as Dawson stood up on the dining room table.

“Oh here we go again.” Dawson chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is but if you don’t want to be at the party, you could always leave.”

“I’m not going to leave my friends party. That’s right. I said my friend. It’s not your party, Dawson. Yet somehow you managed to take the fun and joy out of it by making all about you. And surprise, surprise. It’s not even the first time this has happened. For months, you’ve treated your friends like garbage. I don’t want to know how you treated them before, but I imagine it was also horrible. You took Jen and Joey for granted when you dated them and you’ve been telling Pacey all night that you want Joey back Like, how ridiculous do you have to be to ruin your best friends night by telling him you’re planning to get back together with HIS girlfriend?”

“y/n, really it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. It’s about time someone calls him out on his behavior. It’s not funny and it’s just overall horrible. Why do you people put up with it?” when nobody answered you, you just shook your head and left. Pacey was truly at a loss for words. He was also proud that, even though you barely knew Dawson, you were brave enough to call him out.

The fifth time Pacey was speechless was prom night …

Prom being right around the corner was not nearly as exciting as you had hope. You spent 2 and a half years at the school and the only reason that prom wasn’t exciting for you was because you hadn’t been in a relationship since you transferred. You weren’t alone though. Everyone in your group of friends was also single.

Originally, you all planned to go to prom together as a group but then Jack came up with the idea of going in pairs with the person in the group who was the least like you. And that meant you and Dawson would be going together.

Over the last 2 years, Dawson changed. It was a little at first but after a few months, he seemed like a whole new person. You both apologized for what happened at Pacey’s party a few years ago and the road to your friendship was finally being paved.

When the day of prom finally arrived, you spent all day getting ready and when Dawson arrived to pick you up, he gave you a genuine smile.

“You know the guys are gonna be all over you.”

“Thanks, but that’s doubtful.”

“Well, I’m pretty positive that Pacey won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.”

“What?”

“Well it’s certainly no secret that he thinks you’re attractive. I’m just stating a fact.”

“So, if you’re stating a fact, does that mean you think I’m attractive too? Or is it just the fact that apparently Pacey does?”

“Well, let me put it this way. You’re not ugly.”

“That’s actually very uplifting. Thanks, Dawson.”

When he pulled up to the school, you got out carefully and waited for him. He held out his arm, which you happily took, and walked in the building together.

“Doesn’t look like any of our friends are here yet. Wanna just sit for a while?” Dawson looked over at you and followed when you headed for a table. “I’m gonna go grab us something to drink. I’ll be right back.”

You looked around the crowded room and made eye contact with Jack. He walked over to you and sat down in the chair next to yours. Joey followed and sat next to him.

“Wow. That dress looks amazing.” Jack smiled.

“I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this, but you really do look beautiful, y/n.” Joey smiled too.

“Thanks. You look beautiful too, Joey.” You smiled back at her and looked at Jack. “And you look very handsome, Jack.”

“Thanks.” He smiled and looked around the room. “Where’s Dawson?”

“He went to go get some drinks, but he should be back soon.”

As if it was his cue, Dawson sat down and handed you a cup of punch. “Wow, Joey. You look amazing.”

“Thank you, Dawson. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Dawson looked around your small group and smiled. “We all clean up very well.”

“Does the same go for Jen and Pacey?” Jack waved to the other 2 as they walked in. Jen smiled and made her way to the table while Pacey took his time. The second you came into his sightline, he stopped walking. He fought every urge inside him that was telling him to turn and run the way he came. Instead, he slowly took the seat between Joey and Jen, his sight anywhere but you. Turns out Dawson was wrong.

The night was filled with laughter and dancing, mostly from the other students. Everyone at your table spent most of the night just talking, or in Pacey’s case, avoiding you at all costs. Although you did dance with Jack at one point and goofed around with the girls and Dawson as well.

When it came time for the final song, Dawson asked Joey to dance, and Jack took Jen’s hand. You were left with Pacey and the silence coming from him gave you the worst feeling.

“What’s your problem?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why have you been ignoring me all night?”

“I have not been ignoring you. I’ve just been occupied with other stuff.”

“Oh really? Like what? You haven’t moved from your seat, and you barely talked to anyone. What could’ve possibly had your attention all night?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you and your freaking dress, okay? You look so good and it’s ridiculous.”

“How is it ridiculous?”

“You’re here with my best friend and you’re my ex-girlfriends enemy. It’s not exactly a good time to bring it up.”

“You know Dawson and I are only here together because it was Jack’s idea, right? There’s nothing going on between us, at all. He’d have to be the last man on Earth. And as for Joey, things aren’t as bad as they were before. She even complimented me earlier, and we danced too. It’s not like we’re still enemies.”

“Well still. It’s not fair that you get to look as amazing as you do, and I can’t say anything about it.”

“You actually think I look amazing?”

“Of course I do. It’s all I’ve been thinking about all night.”

“Maybe we should join our friends on the dance floor before we lose our opportunity.” You stood up and held out your hand, but he just looked at it.

“Are you sure?”

“Look around, Pacey. We’re the only ones still at a table. There’s one song left, and you haven’t danced at all. So please, come dance with me.” this time, he took your hand. As he lead you out to the dance floor, you couldn’t help but feel the eyes of your friends watching you. They looked at each other and smiled. The plan they came up with had worked.

The one time he took the words out of your mouth was the day of graduation …

A week after prom was graduation. You spent all day with Jen and Joey, picking out what to wear, doing your makeup and talking about boys.

“So, you and Dawson seem to be getting back on track. How’s that going?” you asked Joey as you looked through Jen’s closet for a perfect dress.

“Things between us have never been better. But that’s not the relationship I wanna talk about right now. You and Pacey seemed to finally notice each other in a new light. How’s that going?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. Even I noticed it.” Jen smiled and pulled out a blue dress. “He stopped in his tracks the seconds his eyes landed on you in that dress. I think it was love.”

“Pacey and I don’t love each other. You’re being crazy.”

“Dude, he’s had a crush on you for almost 3 years.”

“If he has a crush on me, then why did he date you, Joey?”

“I honestly think it was a distraction. He talked about you all the time. That’s why I broke up with him the first time. And honestly, I was never really as in love with him as I pretended to be.”

“Well if you didn’t love him that much, why did you tell him he couldn’t talk to me anymore?”

“I never said he couldn’t talk to you anymore. That must’ve been his own choice.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes me feel so much better now.” You shook your head and finally decided on a dark green dress that fell just blow your knee. Knowing you had to see Pacey later just got a whole lot more complicated.

The ceremony went as expected, slow and boring. And the graduation party at Dawson’s place was only slightly better. A little more entertaining, but it was passing by painfully slow. Of course everyone was at the age where they could almost get away with underage drinking, so that’s what most of the people were doing.

When Pacey managed to get everyone’s attention, you knew something even more entertaining was about to happen. At this point, he had already consumed a beer or two so whatever came out of his mouth was going to be incredibly ridiculous.

“Hey, everybody. Listen up please. I have something important to say.”

“Then say it, Witter.”

“Okay.” He took a sip of his drink and continued to speak. “Most of my life, I’ve felt like a failure compared to my brother. My father always pointed out my flaws and never really said he was proud of me. This belief that I wouldn’t amount to anything followed me all the way through school. I never believed I’d be smart enough to graduate. But here I am now. I’m a high school graduate. And that’s because everything changed sophomore year. I was not doing so great in my classes and sometimes, the work I submitted felt ridiculous. But one day, an angel appeared. She had my back, even though she had never met me before. Her attitude is what got me through the rest of high school, and I no longer worried about being good enough in school. No. I’ve spent the better part of 3 years trying to convince myself that I’d be good enough for her. And even now, I’m still not sure that I am. She is the best person I have ever met. She was nice to people who weren’t very nice to her, and she tolerated a lot of crap from pretty much everyone she met. There is not a better person alive than y/n and let me tell you guys something. I think I’ve been in love with this girl my whole life, despite having only known her for almost 3 years.” He got off the chair he was standing on and approached you. Everyone’s eyes on you suddenly made you feel hyper aware of the situation. “I know I haven’t been the greatest friend recently, but I really want to change that. You have no idea how hard it was to stop talking to you before. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way, so I’ll understand completely if you don’t have the same feelings for me.”

Everyone turned to look at you as you struggled to find the words to respond. Jen looked at you sympathetically while Pacey looked upset.

“I-I don’t really know what to say, Pacey.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“I mean, I do like you. A lot. But you’ve been drinking. Maybe we should have this conversation tomorrow when you’ll actually remember it.”

“But I’m not drunk, honestly. And I’ve never been this truthful in my life. I was scared to admit it to myself that I had these intense feelings for you. And now I’ve admitted it in front of our friends. Nothing is scarier to me than being vulnerable. And that’s what I am right now. Do you really think I’d put myself in this position if I wasn’t speaking the truth? Just trust me. Say you’ll go on a date with me. That’s all I’m asking. Just one date.”

“Okay fine. One date, Witter.”

The date went well. You found yourself becoming more and more speechless around Pacey the longer you two were together. He just had that power.

#pacey witter x reader #pacey witter #dawson's creek

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theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

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i’m sorry ur not feeling well 🥺💗 sending you positive vibes tonight!!

for the slumber party plz tell me allll about your favourite character that you don’t currently write about 🙊 i wanna hear all the secret deets

HEY TIFFFFF i appreciate it :( i hope i'm not like being annoying venting on here i'm just so miz and i know my irls are sick of hearing it lolol anyways!!!!

okay my current obsession is gojo. and bc i haven't actually started the fic yet, i don't technically write for him often, only per request. does that count? idk i wanna talk ab gojo lol

just gonna throw everything below a cut because idk where i'm headed with this. minors stay away!

this is like, canonical, but gojo's so fucking annoying LMAO like i just know he is the most obnoxious, can't-sit-still, sarcastic asshole on the planet. he really makes it hard to love him sometimes.

this....is not a spoiler for a fic i'm def not writing (wink wink) but i just don't think gojo could really properly fall for someone who was not powerful. like i think part of his distance from others is his (admitted) narcissism that is somewhat well-earned considering he is....gojo fucking satoru. he needs someone that is at least somewhat towards the top of their ranks in whatever they do.

i also feel like gojo would be encouraging to a fault? like always pushing you further towards your goals, stepping in obnoxiously if your boss doesn't notice you've been working your ass off for a promotion (again, annoying). like he won't rest until you've made progress.

gojo also gets baby girl-ified WAY too much

like hear me out

we see him through the eyes of the kids/around his students in most of s1, and that's not to say he doesn't have the potential to be a playful, lighthearted person *when he wants to be*

but remember that scene of him talking to the jujustu higher-up where the guy tells him to watch his mouth and gojo laughs in his fucking face??

he's an egotistical, all-powerful, ballsy maniac. like gojo is not braiding your hair and cooing in your ear 24/7.

he is slowly backing you into a wall and taking what he wants from you. like sorry he just is.

also gojo strikes me as someone who is ....nasty. like, blood and knife play, gun play, psychopathic kind of nasty in the bedroom. idk if i would personally ever write that, but he's been through so much and seen so much gore you know that that's fucked with his....tastes, so to speak

i do think however that gojo would be absolutely devoted to his partner

like it would take him forever to come around and accept that he now felt responsible for protecting yet another person and that he had accidentally formed a connection (i see gojo as also having a very weird relationship with his humanity vs. his divinity but more on that another time)

but once he's around? he's in it for life. i mean, even if you don't ship stsg, you must acknowledge that gojo has never been willing to truly let geto go. he couldn't kill him, refused to believe geto had done that even though geto was showing signs of deteriorating mentally.

he's the same way with his partner. good luck breaking up with gojo because it's going to be a years long process.

gojo loves someone who can push back at him. he doesn't want an entirely submissive partner (kinda like eren!)

he likes someone who will put him in his place, has a sharp tongue, isn't afraid to stand up for themselves or others.

love language is absolutely gift-giving like that man has to spoil his partner he can't help it

size kink. turns his infinity on mid-sex to punish you. wants to have sex where he stands overlooking tokyo in the s1 opening. always takes the blindfold off during sex. huge public sex guy. i said what i said. it's hard being correct.

i could literally go on for HOURS tiff you have no idea the grip this man has on me. i cannot wait to write this fic!!!!!!!! ah!!!!!

thanks for coming to my slumber party lovie kisses from me to u :)

#rage.rambles #gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru headcanons #tiff.moot #slumber party

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lgbtq-history-museum-cfl-intern · 1 year ago

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Am I What I Am?

How often do you feel “Imposter Syndrome”?

Imposter Syndrome is that feeling like you’re somehow not qualified for what you’re doing.

That even though you’ve been invited into a space, you somehow don’t belong there.

Like you’ve tricked everyone into thinking that you’re, say, a public historian, and now they’re just letting you design an entire exhibit!

Okay, so by now you can probably tell this is personal (lol).

My last post definitely gave away some of this brewing self-doubt, but I remained positive. However, I had one day where it all overwhelmed me at once.

That happens as students with everything going on PLUS school. As a student living with disabilities, I carry the extra load of the maintenance work that comes with chronic health conditions, and this was just one of those weeks when I had to balance my academic responsibilities with a wad of follow-up appointments and testing!

So, it all just felt like too much for a day and the imposter syndrome sunk in as I was preparing for the meeting with the Board. It was so bad that I questioned whether I even wanted to keep pursuing public history anymore! The field I have been actively building relationships and experience in for over 2 years now!

I know I’m not the only one who has been there, though. If you’re doing things right, you’re frequently entering spaces where you question your place until it becomes familiar.

Well, you can imagine my relief when I met the rest of the board, and they were incredibly warm and inviting. And to top it off, they were all very excited about what I brought to the table! They gave great feedback and suggestions giving me direction as I transition into the writing and design process.

The pressure I have felt this semester to impress is all my own because everyone around me has only been happy with my work and encouraging about my ideas.

After reflecting, I found that as an Interdisciplinary Studies major, I find it intimidating speaking to fellow students or professors who’ve specialized in History for years (or literally any of the disciplines I’ve covered in my degree program like sociology and anthropology, or humanities and Latin American Studies.)

And so there I was, in a room with incredibly smart and experienced individuals, most of whom I’d never met, about to present my research and exhibit idea for the first time. You hear the word “Board” and titles like “Doctor” and as a student, you can feel so inexperienced in just the worst ways.

However, something to remember in moments like these is that sometimes we build others up in our heads as figures to look up to. And yes, they may be accomplished and admirable people; And yes, we should respect them, but they are just people.

I think if we try to reframe these “figures” in our lives - humanize them, remembering that although they are professionally your superior, they’re normal people too – we can overcome some of that imposter syndrome.

They were in your shoes once, just starting their career and perhaps with less ground under their feet.

They can be just as endeared by your accomplishments as you are by theirs.

So, the next time you’re nervous about meeting with that potential mentor whose positive reputation and track record overwhelm you with excitement and anxiety, remember: They also misplace their files; their emails also get stuck in their outbox/drafts; They also fumble with their materials; They also forget that one very important thing they needed today.

So, claim your place and remember you are where you’re meant to be!

Thanks for following along 😊

#internship blog #history student #history intern blog #public history intern blog #public history internship #internship #museum internship #student internship #Student blog #college student #college life #university life #undergraduate

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thelasttime · 1 year ago

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Hi Madie! I hope your day is going well. I wanted to ask if you can give me a few reasons or motivation to join med school. I'm from India and here we have an exam to get into med school and it's very very tough. I tried twice but couldn't get to the cut off. There are like two million students sitting for the exam, only 20 thousand get government colleges and it's so frustrating sometimes because I feel like I've wasted all this time and I will never get through and I should quit, most of my highschool friends are graduating next year and I feel like have done nothing :(

hi anon!! i’m not sure if i can give anyone a reason to go to medical school because i do really think that should be something that comes from your own heart. it sounds like you already have the inherent drive that it takes to go to medical school and i am sure you haven’t tried twice already because you don’t want to go to medical school.

so, i hope this response more serves as reassurance that you’re on the right path and that any way life takes you is the right path. you’re not a failure for not getting in either time, it’s an incredibly difficult process and it’s INCREDIBLY selective. i think you should pat yourself on the back for being someone who is resilient enough to go through this process not once but twice. it tells me that you’re resilient and brave and strong and you’re not a person who gives up easily

you’re also not lesser than for taking a while to get to your end destination. your peers who would appear to be ahead of you have a different life path from you. you guys aren’t meant to have the same exact life because that would be boring!! and taking these gaps between you and medical school as something of a gift rather than a punishment is something i really encourage. you have more time to prepare yourself before medical school AND medical school is some of the toughest years of your life, you will definitely be grateful for the break once you enter medical school

you aren’t wasting time, you’re just on a different life path and life is never linear. we don’t expect life to go perfectly but it’s about what we do with these setbacks and how we approach problems with resilience. i believe in you!!!! i hope you take the exam and get into medical school but i also believe that you are so much more than a test result. you will succeed in whatever you choose to pursue

#asks #asking you this*#anonymous

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d3nt4l-d4m4g3 · 4 years ago

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A few days ago, I emailed my former professor about a paper on women’s food practices in the middle ages. At least, that’s what I told him it was about, initially.

But actually, I wanted to discuss heresy. This professor teaches a women’s rights course every year. Every year at the beginning of the class, he calls attention to why he, a man, is talking about women’s rights. He looks us in the eyes and says, no one else is doing it, and I’m sorry it’s me.

This man made us read the SCUM manifesto, Gerda Lerner, Maria Mies. He grazed the subject of the Lesbian Sex Wars, delicately, so gingerly, posing the question: “Can sex work ever be just work?” And my (all woman) classmates, generally mute—in a Women’s Rights class, they all seemed averse to saying the word “woman,” at all. Then one woman raised her hand. and she said, “Sex work is real work.” A statement that, as I hope you know, is a deflection and a discussion killer.

At the time I was non-binary. Hah. I submitted a comic at the end of the year of my final project. My thesis for that project was this: the very language female people have to use for themselves was constructed by the patriarchy. for example, the english word “vagina” comes from the latin word for “sheath”. so the vagina invokes the act of penetration upon its utterance. Whereas the word “penis” has no clear etymological root, implying that it is original while the vagina is constructed for him. Why should I carry the fact that I will always be a tool, the hole, of the human that is man? My solution, at the end of the comic, was to continue using they/them pronouns, to shield myself from the horror of being a wo-man, a s-he—an appendage of Him.

I got a good grade. A stellar report. And it wasn’t a bad comic, for what I knew then. For my condition of blindness and deafness. I made a compelling argument, using sources from class. But oh, how much older I feel now. I’ve always felt old but now I feel almost like I’m dying. Like I don’t have enough time to fix the world before I disappear. And women’s stories never survive. They are not surviving. networks spring up like mycelium and then every century at least they are burned. Witchcraft is in the air shared by women in a room of their own, and witchcraft is doused in gasoline.

I don’t have enough time to explain how the veil lifted for me. Maybe I forget the big moment. the days after were a blur of searching the no-no tags like radical feminist, GNC, gender critical. Amazed at the wealth of journals that these women linked to with real statistics showing that children are being sterilized for no reason. Mostly gay children. like me, a lesbian, who now lives in a house with three “non-binary afabs”. This summer, one of these women, who I have known since freshman year, will start taking testosterone, a procedure I took up for three turbulent months during my freshman year of college. I get to watch her become what I turned away from, knowing the experience fractured my sense of self to a point of terror and estrangement. I get to watch her hide from her problems and cut herself off from womanhood the way I did for 3 years. I am not a woman, so do I not feel Woman’s pain, she is telling me, I told myself, when I was in a dream. She has so many problems, she laughs. But trans is a separate problem that has nothing to do with those other problems. A coincidence.

(For any trans people reading this, you may think: This transtrender fake-trans never-was-trans woman is treating these nonbinary people as if they were dead! as if they weren’t happy people finally living their truth! —well. I put my mom through the process of trying to convince her that I should have always been a man. and I did lose her, for months. For her it was the height of cognitive dissonance that I should want to go on a life-altering hormone to cure my lifelong social awkwardness and self-hatred and self-harm and depression. And I blamed her for not accepting my real self. I was basically made to shun her and my family because of transphobia.. It is disrespectful to anyone’s sanity and integrity for me to perpetuate that cognitive dissonance in this post.)

So I eventually got through to the professor. I knew because of the texts he had us to read for class. He is gay. He has read all the theory, and lives by it. And no (woman) student wants to speak to him. To bring the theory alive. They cannot breathe into it and it sits dead in his mouth.

Maybe it is because he is a man. because the presence of one man in a space of all women immediately sends up alerts. lockdown. Certainly that is the case. Radical Feminists here: I know he’s a man. But I don’t have a woman. And I felt on the strength of the texts he’d given us that he would be my best bet. Maybe somewhere in the corrupted, rotting heart of my college there was a person who knew about thoughtcrimes and was thinking them anyway.

My professor starts with diversion. He starts by talking about my paper. I find it disconcerting that he starts that way. I worry that he won’t want to refer to my email. Where I say: I have woken up from a dream to the apocalypse—Does this man think I’m crazy? Chipper and kind of frantically, he lists off primary sources of medieval nuns and women saints. for my paper. Does this man think I’ve turned into a bigot? Am I confessing lunacy, like a flat-earther?

But I steer the conversation to the meat at his first tentative encouragement. I tell him something like: “children, mostly gay children, a whole generation of gay children, are being sterilized. Porn is a symptom of late-stage capitalism—men’s ownership of women’s bodies. trans is an extension of this. I was part of this. I was in a cult.” I was shaking a bit. I don’t think I’d uttered those words out loud. They sound crazy. Some of the things I said did sound far-fetched. disorganized, remote. But I prayed that my professor would believe some of it, any of it.

What I will say is that he believes me. Thank fuck, right?

He tells me something along the lines of this, vocalizing my fears:

that all of academia is being scrubbed of anything that doesn’t support Trans.

And it is trans-identified female students and women who are reporting him to Title IX, who spend all their time in his classes fuming at the lack of validation for trans women in the history of women. My sisters, footsoldiers for the cause. What cruel irony. This man is holding onto this class by his fingernails, speaking through his teeth, hoping any of the twenty young adult women staring blankly or angrily at him will hear him and listen.

Looking back, the professor’s responses to my emails are vague, completely refusing to acknowledge a point of view other than “WOW. I look forward to discussing this.” I think he thinks he could be blackmailed. Anything he says on gmail dot com can and would be used against him. It’s like, really, really, really that bad.

No ideology should involve a cultural cleaning of women’s history feat. witch hunts.

I will end here with an excerpt from my first email to this professor:

I'm sure you know what a total bummer it is to realize this.

#detransition #tra #gender critical #radical feminism #radfem #radblr #feminism #academia

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f1united · 3 years ago

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Ensemble - Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your Arthur Leclercs best friend. So why, after a random night in London, are you falling for his brother?

Chapter One: The Start

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and sex.

Word Count: 5.8k

Note: This chapter begins in London and is marked where it switches to Mykonos. There are then some flashbacks mixed in so just watch out for those. Let me know your thoughts, enjoy!

*****

Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Not long after Pierre had joined your table, Charles emerged from the toilets. Pierre had waved his hands to inform him of his updated location as he sat in the empty seat, unknowingly signing himself up for a night full of girly gossip and drama. The evening was spent reminiscing on childhood memories and sharing stories. It wasn't until Nat checked her phone that you realised how late it was getting.

"We better get going," She announced as she checked her phone. "The last train is in half an hour." You lived just outside of London which meant that most nights out were cut short by trains unless you had booked a hotel. You hummed in agreement as you finished your drink watching as Pierre began to whisper in Lucy's ear. They'd been flirting all night so her next sentence didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I'm going to chill with Pierre for a bit, I'll find my own way home tomorrow" The rest of the girls saw it coming too.

"Are you sure?" Katie asked. "I don't want you ending up in London on your own with no way home." She had a point. London could be quite daunting when it was late and dark, especially if you weren't a local.

"Well why don't you stay too?" Charles nodded his head towards you as he spoke. "That way you could leave together." Not one part of you questioned Charles' intentions as he spoke. He remained the responsible 'Arthur's older brother' that was being sensible and mature, making sure that everyone got home safely.

"If that's alright with you?" Your question was answered with a nod of his head. You all began to grab your things and headed outside, saying your goodbyes, telling them to text you when they were home safe as they encouraged you to do the same. By the time they'd headed for the station, Pierre and Lucy were already nowhere to be seen.

"I'm not sure about you but I'm in no rush to go back to the apartment just yet!" You spoke to Charles as you looked at the night sky above you.

"Where do you want to go in the meantime?"

“Have you ever explored London before?" You answered his question with one of your own. He shook his head. "So you haven't seen all beautiful sites it has to offer." The sarcasm was evident in your voice as you pointed down the alley way you were walking past full of black bins and plastic bags full of rubbish.

"I've only ever been here to celebrate races and I can't say I've seen much other than the inside of some bars and restaurants.”

"Well you're in for a long night Leclerc." Two hours ago Charles wanted nothing more than for him and Pierre to go back to the apartment. The lack of alcohol he'd consumed throughout the night was only adding to the tiredness he'd accumulated over the race weekend. However as you dragged him through the streets of London he realised there was no place he'd rather be.

You'd ridden Boris bikes alongside the River Thames, shown him your favourite restaurant in Covent Garden and taken him through Piccadilly Circus all the way to Oxford Street where closed shops lined the dark streets, pointing out your favourite ones as you cycled past. He never did things like this. As a F1 driver it was difficult for him to go almost anywhere without going unnoticed but tonight not one person had recognised him because for the night he was just a normal person with another normal person having a good time.

After abandoning the Boris bikes at the nearest drop off point you both headed towards the apartment. It belonged to Charles' mother and was often used by you and Arthur whenever he'd come to visit and couldn't stay with you.

"You seem happier than when I last saw you." His comment made you smile. It was all he could think about as you wondered through the dark streets. The last time you'd seen him you'd just broken up with your ex. Your relationship had been on and off for years but you'd finally called it quits for good. It didn't take a genius to see the relationship was making you unhappy, the anxiety, tears and sleepless nights were picked up on by everyone albeit your efforts to hide it. Arthur was the only person who truly knew what was going on and it hurt him to see his best friend in so much pain when she thought she was in love.

"Thank you, I'm in a much better place now. I've had time to focus on myself." You'd completely lost yourself throughout the time you were together, focusing so much on what he'd wanted and expected rather than what made you happy. The situation had increased your maturity and for that reason you were grateful your first heartbreak had come at such a young age. You'd correctly assumed that Arthur had made Charles aware of your sensitiveness to the situation to some extent as he made no further comments.

He had approached Arthur with concern after your last meeting. Despite a fun grand prix weekend you'd been blinking back tears and spent most of the time with a blank expression on your face. He hated it. He could see you trying to compose yourself, when he came to thank you for coming you'd done your best to smile, your voice was laced with excitement, but your eyes were empty, drained of emotion. He was grateful to see it had made its way back.

"Did you know I've never been to Harrods?" His random fact was a relief as he quickly changed the subject, allowing your mind to be brought back to the present rather than the dark times from the past.

"Even I've been to Harrods Charles. We should go tomorrow, you'd have a field day in the clothes section." As a part time student most of your spare money went into savings, a fund you'd created for your planned travels when you were done with your studies. It wasn't very often that you brought yourself nice things so despite your multiple trips to Harrods, you'd never actually purchased anything. You could see him deliberating your suggestion in his head.

"You can wear sunglasses and a hat with your mask, just don't wear a bright red Ferrari top and I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves to ourselves."

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" His question brought you back to reality slightly.

"I'll call in sick?" you offered. It suddenly occurred to you that this was the longest time you and Charles had ever been alone together and the idea of leaving wasn't something that you wanted to think about just yet.

Charles opened the apartment door with caution, neither of you wanted to interrupt your friend’s spontaneous night, nor hear any of the antics they were getting up to. You frowned at each other as you stepped into the entrance corridor. There were no faint voices, no mumbling or laughs, just the hum of the city that echoed through the slightly open window.

“Maybe they didn’t come back here,” your judgement became increasingly more likely as you followed Charles towards the kitchen and stood around the island.

“I’ll send him a text.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped away before placing it on the marble countertop. It lit up with Pierre's reply not long after he'd set it down. “They went to some hotel, apparently he’s dropping her home in a second.”

“He’s not the type to bring girls back to his home turf then,” you took the bag off your shoulder and placed in on the counter, grabbing a hair tie from inside and gathering your locks into a low ponytail. “Smart move.” Charles shrugged his shoulders at your observation.

He’d never really thought about it before, but he was the same. The few casual hook ups that he’d had over the years had never been in places he spent a lot of time like his house in Monaco, or his favourite holiday home in Mykonos, and never this apartment. Sure, he’d slept with people in those cities, but never in his space. You were right though; it was easier to forget about the crime if you never returned to the scene.

"Do you have anything I can change into?"

“There’s a top on the end of my bed.” You thanked him as you made your way towards his room. “I’ll grab some of my things so I can crash on the sofa once you’ve changed.” You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him as you stood in the doorway.

“I’m not kicking an f1 driver out of their own bed Charles, especially not post race weekend.” You crossed your arms as you lent against the door frame. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He argued.

“It’s one night Charles, I really don’t mind.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He repeated.

“Well then it looks like we’re sharing the bed.” Your words not only surprised you, but also Charles. Neither of you were sure where this increased confidence had come from, but you didn’t want it to become awkward, so you tried to justify your statement. “Me and Arthur used to share a bed all the time!”

The look on his face as your eyes met with his across the room was one you’d so desperately been seeking without realising it. His head cocked, eyebrows raised and small smirk tugging its way onto his lips provided reassurance, giving you the confidence to confirm that this relationship was very different to your one with Arthur. You already knew it, you had felt it every time you’d looked at him since you were about 16, but this was the first time you could say with certainty that it was reciprocated.

Charles was dying to climb into bed with you. To wrap his arms around you and stay like it all night. He didn’t care about the fact that your hair would be in his face or that his arm would most likely be dead within the first half an hour. He just wanted you there with him, so he could learn things about you that he didn’t already know and fall asleep with the scent of your faded perfume beneath his nose. He suggested that he’d sleep on the sofa because he knew that wasn’t what you were implying.

“I’ll stay on my side,” you offered. “Promise.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Charles was a respectful man, he wouldn’t cross boundaries without permission, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without your touch. The thought of your body lying so tantalisingly close to his while dressed in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts was driving him crazy.

“I’m a very good sleeper, you won’t even know I’m there.”

You couldn’t stop listing reasons for Charles to join you. He wished you would stop; his head was already full of so many.

“Well go and get comfy and I’ll join you in a minute,” In that moment he made the decision to give in knowing that if this was the only chance he got to lay in bed with you he'd take the opportunity, whether your bodies were intertwined or not. “Do you need a drink or anything?”

“A water would be great!” You smiled as you turned around and headed to the bedroom. Charles spent the next few minutes alone in the kitchen trying to convince himself that this was a bad idea. That it was wrong. You were his brother’s best friend and he shouldn't be this nervous or excited to lay next to you, but no matter how hard he tried to dislike the situation he couldn’t because it just felt right.

By the time he joined you in bed you’d already made yourself incredibly comfortable. He chuckled at the site of you tangled in the duvet before climbing in next to you. You laid facing each other and remained that way as you chatted about memories from the past. Childhood holidays and his earliest racing days to you latest life plans and hopes for the future. That's how you drifted to sleep, listening to his voice was more comforting than you'd like to admit. When you awoke in the morning you were unsure what terrified you more, the feeling of one of you completely reducing the few centimetres of space left between you or never knowing what Charles’ touch felt like.

*****

Maybe that’s why you were so unimpressed when Charles and Pierre joined the several of you seated around the long table on the patio with two unknown girls. The number of cocktails you’d consumed weren’t providing you with a great amount of rationality but then again it was difficult to justify being annoyed when you had no reason to be in the soberest of situations. The only person to blame was yourself, you’d had the chance to experience a night with Charles and a combination of your stubbornness, maturity and (let’s face it) fear of what could happen had meant that you’d missed out.

It was only as she threw her head back at one of his comments that it hit you, you were jealous. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in years. Ever since your last relationship you had lacked almost every kind of emotion. You’d dated people since but that connection was never really there which is why you were full of confusion at the situation presenting itself to you. The feelings felt foreign to your body and you weren’t sure how to deal with them, so you did the one think that you were too young to do back then. Get drunk and try to forget about them for a night.

"Are you listening? Drink up, we're leaving in a second!" Arthurs voice provided a distraction from your thoughts whilst encouraging them. You tilted your head back as you finished the remainder of your champagne, your arm was already reaching out for the nearest bottle to see if you could sneak in a quick refill. You didn’t even like champagne but after having run out of cocktails about an hour ago you didn’t really have much choice. In any other situation you would’ve declined and waited until you were at the club but you weren’t really in the mood to sober up right now. You got up to follow everyone to the taxis, deciding that the bottle had too much in to be left at the table to waste, but not enough in that you couldn't finish it before you reached you destination. Putting the bottle to your lips this time, you took another gulp.

He noticed. He noticed the vast amount of alcohol you had consumed thus far. The unbothered façade you'd displayed during dinner was picked up by him the second he’d glanced in your direction. Your eyes often met his across rooms, at events, in the paddock, even at family dinners and it was always followed by a shared smile, but tonight you hadn't even looked at him and he couldn't stand it. Although he couldn’t be certain, he had a good idea what the cause was. Guilt was slowly consuming his thoughts. He shouldn’t have felt guilty, there was no real reason to, yet he did.

He knew if he had come alone you would've had a couple of drinks with dinner, just enough to prepare yourself for the club afterwards, allowing the sweaty people and sticky floor to become slightly bearable. He also knew that you weren't a huge drinker and that the lack of food you had consumed at dinner would only worsen the matter which was evident as he watched you fall into a taxi with Arthur and Carla as he climbed into a separate one with Pierre and, what they appeared to be to everyone else, their ‘dates’.

The club was busy, everyone excited to be back on the dance floor after its absence over the past year or two. Although it would've been nice to spend some more time with him, you were thankful that the crowds had engulfed you so you'd lose sight of Charles and her. You'd found your way to the middle of the dance floor and you remained there for hours losing track of time and somehow your friends too.

Unbeknown to you, Charles had lost his 'date' at the first chance he had. He'd met her on a boat during the day with Pierre and when his best friend had invited her best friend for dinner he felt bad for not doing the same. He was sitting at the bar with Pierre who'd picked up on the amount of attention he was paying you as you danced along with random strangers. The Frenchman questioned what he was doing when he noticed Charles tighten his jaw. Charles nodded his head in your direction and the pair watched as a man approached you.

The guy in front of you was only offering to buy you a drink but you knew you were way over your limit. You'd politely declined, naively assuming that he'd disappear back into the sea of faces but that wasn't the case. Your refusal clearly not accepted as he insisted. grabbing onto your arm in an attempt to pull you in the direction of the bar. Yanking your arm out of his grip you instantly managed to sober up as you came to the realisation you were going to have to fight this battle alone.

Charles knew you were a big girl, that you could handle yourself in almost any situation thrown your way, but as the guy reached out to touch you he could've sworn he moved quicker than his Ferrari. His presence shocked you as you flinched slightly at the unfamiliar grip on your waist.

"It's just me ma belle." Charles whispered calmly into your ear, placing a feather light kiss onto your cheek. Relief instantly washed over your body. You wished you could focus on the conversation that Charles was now having with the strange man in front of you but you couldn't. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your skin heating beneath Charles' fingertips and the tingling sensation that lingered where he'd planted the kiss. He'd never touched you before, the brief hugs being the most contact you'd ever shared, and now he was standing in a club with his hand around your waist as he fended off a random guy who'd taken an interest in you. "I think we should head home." When Charles spoke it felt as though each word was coated in sex as it left his lips. He hadn't meant it in a sexy way, you knew that. He wanted to take you home so you were safe. However his intense grip on your waist and his stubble lightly grazing your cheek when he leaned in to speak to you was putting thoughts into your mind that you knew shouldn't be there.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking for the first time that night. Your eyes always showed a lot of emotion. Your body language was often hard to read but you always made eye contact when you spoke. He frequently used it to determine what mood you were in but this time he was met with one he'd never seen before. Despite them having a drunken glaze, your dilated pupils held a look of lust. He could've sworn you were mentally undressing him. You weren't. Instead you were thinking of how much you wanted him to undress you.

"I think that's a good idea." He could hear the smirk in your voice over the sound of the music as you let your lips gently brush his ear lobe while you spoke. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath in an attempt to pull himself together. You were disappointed when his hand left your side but satisfied when it quickly intertwined itself with yours. His skin was softer than you were expecting, the rough patches slowly disappearing over the summer break. Your hands remained that way as you walked through the streets of Mykonos. Neither of you spoke, you just remained in a comfortable silence. As the villa came into view Charles was basically marching down the street, his strides increasing as your little legs tried to keep up. He dropped your hand when he reached the door, searching his pockets for the key to unlock it.

The villa was colder than you were expecting, a shiver ran down your spine as the air con hit you. You headed towards the kitchen and grabbed your sweater off one of the bar stools, sliding it on over your outfit.

“So you’d let Carla drive your car huh?” his face instantly broke out in a smile as you relieved some of the tension between you both. “You know that’s not true.” Charles followed you to the kitchen and watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the counter. He poured a glass of water and took a sip before handing it to you which you gratefully accepted.

“You’d let your date drive it instead?” He rolled his eyes as he chuckled at your sarcasm, hoping that you’d forgotten about the girl he’d sat next to during dinner as quickly as he had. “How many girls get a turn before me?” Although he didn't let it show, your question had offended him slightly. Despite his popularity with women he was never one to disrespect them, especially not you. He took a step closer to you, standing directly in front of your legs that were pressed firmly together.

“You’re the only one I want to see in that seat mon Cherie,” That was one nickname that he’d never called you, yet it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly. He leaned against your legs and you slowly parted them so he could stand in between, closing the distance between you both. “I’d let you drive it again in a heartbeat.” Your eyes were fluttering between his eyes and lips, your stare only breaking when he leaned in to speak in your ear just like he’d done in the club. He placed a kiss on your cheekbone and slowly worked his way up to your ear.

“You looked very sexy behind the wheel of my car.” You locked your hands with his while he continued to speak, closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to try and calm your heart rate down. You wanted to say something back, engage more in the conversation, but for the first time in a long time you were at a loss for words. You loved driving, you'd often join the boys go karting growing up and learned to drive as soon as you could, so when Charles asked if you wanted to drive his Ferrari back to your home after your Harrods shopping trip you were more than excited. It was a nice change from the train ride you were expecting.

He'd watched your eyes light up when you realised he was being serious. It was the closest you'd ever been to driving something even remotely similar to an f1 car despite it being different in so many ways. Your smile was infectious as you put your foot down on the motorway, leaving London behind. You'd never even driven an automatic car so this was a completely new experience. He'd taught you how to use the paddles to manually change gears if you wanted to and how to shift through its different modes as you drove around. The only disappointing part of the journey was reaching your destination, your trip home considerably quicker than you would've wanted. After spending the whole time focused on going fast and not crashing, you'd selfishly not noticed how Charles was feeling throughout the drive.

He'd been trying to keep his eyes trained on the road in front of him but couldn't help steal a glance in your direction every now and then. He was always surrounded by fast cars, something he realised after seeing you sat in his driving seat he'd begun to take for granted. He felt overwhelmed with pride, he was the one who was making you this happy. He felt privileged seeing you this free as your hair flew around in the wind while you rested a hand out the side of the car, trying to resist the force of the air pushing it back. It was his turn to be selfish as he realised that he always wanted to keep that moment for himself. He didn't want anyone else to make you feel like this, give you this experience. He wanted to be the one to make you smile.

“Don’t go quiet now mon Cherie.” That nickname. Again. “I think we still need to discuss what happened in the shower.” You instantly snapped back into reality at the mention of the shower. His hand fell from yours and toyed with the bracelet on your wrist. The one that you nervously played with in situations like these. The one that he’d gifted you last year. The one with his name etched into it.

The morning that you'd woke up in Charles' bed you were alone. An empty bed was something you'd become accustomed to over the past couple of years but in this instance it made you awaken quicker. The note left on his pillow stopped you from worrying, he was out on a run.

You respected his commitment to his career and took the opportunity to go for a shower. The warm water felt refreshing against your skin, goose bumps slowly appearing across your skin at the sudden change in temperature. Rubbing Charles shower gel into your skin you closed eyes and lent your head against the tiled shower wall. It wasn't clear at what point you'd become so aroused, but the steam from the shower and the smell of Charles covering you definitely had something to do with it. You allowed your hands to roam your body, his name unexpectedly falling from your mouth as you brushed past your breasts. The careless use of his name had caused your eyes to widen and your hand to clamp over your mouth. It had left you lips so naturally but felt inappropriate to say aloud.

It wasn't until a few days later that you realised he'd heard. He almost hadn’t. If he’d unlocked the apartment a mere three seconds later your words wouldn’t have reached his ears. His run had been sweaty and he was still out of breath but his panting soon stopped. His eyes widened as he heard his name leave your lips and he froze. He didn’t want to announce his presence, he knew he wasn’t supposed to hear it and didn’t want you to feel embarrassed that he had. He didn’t know what to do. He felt as though he was invading your privacy but knew that if he shut the door you’d hear it close and know he was there. So instead he stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe to keep it slightly open as he waited for the sound of the shower to finish running. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but he failed. All he could think about was you, in his shower, without him and how badly he wanted to join you, just so he could make his name fall from your mouth the way it just did over and over again.

You thought you'd gotten away with it. He'd entered the apartment just as you were stepping out the bathroom and he'd acted as cool as ever. The weekend was slowly becoming a distant memory that you were trying hard not to dwell on, hating that you were missing his presence so much already. It wasn't until you were at work the following week that it became apparent your secret crush was no longer a secret. You were in the office early, earlier than everyone else. That wasn’t unusual, you liked to be in early as it often meant you could leave earlier too. What was unusual was the box placed neatly on your desk.

Although the small parcel was addressed to you, you opened it with hesitation. A small gasp left your lips as your unwrapping revealed a red box, the golden engraving of the word ‘Cartier’ on top. Confused, you gently opened to box revealing a bracelet.

You placed it on your desk as you searched for a note. Despite it being awfully obvious who it was from, you wanted some kind of confirmation or, better yet, a reason as to why someone had put this into your possession. You'd spotted it in Harrods with Charles. You hadn't mentioned it, just spent a few minutes mindlessly staring at its beauty. There was no point even considering buying it for yourself, the price tag was close to your yearly salary. Eventually you found the note.

'I've heard you like to moan it'

You picked up the bracelet once more, analysing it as you did so. It was so discreet, discreet enough that if the note wasn’t a big enough hint you might never have realised. His name. Etched into the inside of the band in the same font as the word ‘Cartier'. Any other name and he wouldn’t have been able to get away with it. No one had picked up on its personalisation in the past year. It had remained your little secret.

You gulped loudly, unsure of what to say next. The dull lighting hid your cheeks as they flushed red with embarrassment, just like they'd done when you'd read his note. Luckily it was situations like these you considered your stubbornness a strength. "All I could thing about was how much I wanted you to touch me Charles." With your lips dangerously close to Charles' ear you'd somehow managed to complete your sentence with confidence. The conviction in your voice had satisfied Charles although it was obvious that he hadn't expected it as he pulled his head back slightly to look you in the eyes. It was the first time you'd seen them so dark out of his crash helmet. They didn't have the same teasing smile paired with them as they did only a few moments ago. For a brief moment your heart dropped. What if he was just teasing you and you'd taken it too far?

"Say something." Your voice was barely audible despite the eerie silence that had settled in the kitchen as Charles picked up on your nervousness. His expression softened but he remained silent, placing his forehead against yours and gently brushing your noses. You both very quickly realised there was no longer the need for words. The last thing either of you wanted to do right now was have a conversation about what was going on because quite honestly neither of you were sure. All you knew was that as soon as the space between your lips closed, there was no going back. You were craving each other's touch and it was as though the kiss you were yet to share would be the seal of approval you both needed to explore each other in a way you hadn't before.

You'd had enough of the teasing, enough of the wondering and what ifs, enough of wasting time without knowing how his lips felt against yours. You moved your head up slightly brushing your lips with his before releasing one of your hands from his grasp and placing it on the back of his head, pulling it down slightly. As soon as your lips pressed against his you became overwhelmed with emotions. You relaxed into it, it felt so right. His hands began to explore your body, one placed on your thigh and the other tracing lines up and down your back, sitting on the counter top had worked in your favour as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't long before his tongue found yours as you let your hands snake beneath his shirt feeling his back and arms tense beneath you as he lifted you up from the side and placed you on the dining table which was at a slighter lower level.

His mouth left yours and you let out a small groan of frustration, he smiled at the sound as you realised he was only doing it to strip you of the sweater you'd not long ago put on, allowing him to rid you of it, not caring how cold it was anymore. In between the kisses he was placing down your neck you pulled his top over his head. Your eyes were trained to his shoulders as you admired him, only shutting when he re-joined your lips.

The sound of a key turning the lock at the front door caught Charles' attention. There was a high chance he'd consumed less alcohol than you tonight which is why he giggled slightly when you chose to ignore the sound and bring him back in for another kiss.

“WE’RE HOME” Arthur voice echoed round the villa. The sound of his brothers voice was enough for you to release him from your grip.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh, it’s 3am people will be sleeping.” Carla tried to whisper but the tiled walls carried the sound throughout the villa. You didn’t know if anyone else was home, you hadn’t checked and to be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. The only thing on your mind was Charles.

“Y/N and I are in the kitchen,” Charles called back. His eyes never left yours as he grabbed his shirt you'd thrown across the kitchen and redressed himself, not until Arthur stumbled through the door way knocking into chairs and making them squeal as the legs glided across the floor. You both watched as he regained balance and muttered a drunken apology before sitting himself on the floor.

"Good night Arthur?" you laughed slightly at the sight of him on the floor, he'd never been the most elegant drunk but at least he was entertaining.

"Great night." He confirmed as he laid himself down, a laugh leaving Carla's lips as she stared at the state of him. If someone had spoken to you a couple of hours ago you would've probably had a different opinion but as it turned out, you were starting to agree with him.

TAGLIST

@imthebadguyyy @abysshaven @phatyak

#f1 imagine #f1 masterlist #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #pierre gasly #lando norris #george russell #lewis hamilton #valteri bottas #carlos sainz

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letarasstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won��t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #Emily Prentiss x teen!reader #Penelope Garcia x teen!reader #Derek Morgan x teen!reader #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #reid!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert

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ladyanput · 3 years ago

Note

Ok so this is the third time that I'm sending you an ask tonight. (or is it night time in your country?) I'm being annoying right now but whatever. So I've been cackling about those salt fics you wrote because they are just amazing. I have a request, though it is up to you to write it or not. So, can you write a salt fic where someone got an interview with Ladybug (probably Aurore) and then they ask her why they replaced the old heroes like Rena Rouge, Carapace and etc. and LB is just like I don't work with dumb shits or somethin'. Then there is also a new Black Cat (Probably Luka, Felix, or Damian) because Adrien here is an asshole and this fic is saltier than salt water. Then LB also insults Alya's blog and their school. Those foolish mortals get some lawsuits and the rest is up to you. (This request is probably messed up since it's already midnight here and I can't sleep.)

You're never annoying, I just apologize that it took me so long to get to you. I do hope you don't hold it against me, darling.

A one on one interview with Ladybug was basically unheard of if you weren't the Ladyblog or Nadja Chadwick. Ladybug had made it firm that she wasn't a celebrity, she was a hero. She wasn't there for clout, for attention, for fame or fortune. She just wanted to keep Paris safe.

That's was Aurore admired about her. And why she felt queasy as she sat across from the heroine, who had given her of all people an interview. But she got ahold of herself, taking deep breaths as the cameraman began counting down. And when he hit 'one', she put on her best smile and straightened in her seat.

"Hello Paris! Welcome back to 'Latest Buzz'! I am your lovable host, Aurore Beauréal. Today I am here with a very, very special guest, our very own heroine of Paris; Ladybug!"

Ladybug beamed right at the camera, but gave a shy little wave, giving away the nerves she obviously had.

"Now, Ladybug, I'm so glad you requested to be on the show. You know, I initially thought I had misheard when Estelle told me. Usually you're not big on personal interviews." Aurore gave her full attention to Ladybug, but keeping the bright, friendly smile and perfect posture.

"Well, I tried a few times actually. But when I did, none of them were really great experiences." Ladybug admitted and both girls immediately thought of that disastrous Face-to-Face interview. It left a bitter taste in their mouths. "My issue is that misinformation has been spread around a lot recently. It's made me realize that I need to find more trustworthy sources."

"Ladybug. I vow on my integrity as a host and Estelle's reputation as a journalist that we are people who research facts. We don't ambush our guests, we respect them." She said, placing a hand on her heart. Ladybug saw an honesty in her eyes that she hadn't seen in such a long time. It honestly made her feel.. Respected. "Now, Ladybug.. We both know you have a lot of fans. A lot of admirers. False information can be spread so easily these days, which sources specifically are you telling people to avoid?"

"Well.. With Face-to-Face, I found that I was entirely ambushed in that interview. I wanted to speak about my hero work, but instead Nadja kept trying to needle her way into my personal life. That picture she had shown in largely out of context; when Dark Cupid attacked and Chat Noir was under his spell, it was the only way to get him free."

"Yes, I remember watching that. I'll be honest Ladybug, I felt bad for you." Aurore bit her lip, but smiled a bit when Ladybug nodded. "I mean, Chat Noir wasn't helping either. He seemed to be trying to push this narrative forward that you two are a couple."

"And we're not!" Ladybug burst out before she could stop herself. Everyone in that studio could hear the utter stress and frustration in her voice. "I've begged and begged Chat Noir to stop with the flirting, the 'telling people we're dating', everything! I just wanted him to focus and he couldn't seem to do that!"

"Is that why you replaced him? Because of his slacking off and refusing to take anything seriously?" Aurora sat up an bit straighter, her eyes going wide.

".. Not exactly, no. It was a bunch of issues that eventually piled up and boiled over." Ladybug made some gestures with her hands, trying her hardest to find the words but just letting out a long and pained sigh in the end. "I do enjoy my new partner now. He is more serious, more stable. I know he won't go off and pout if I deny something he wanted. I needed an entirely new team, as a matter of fact."

"Well I am going to say, on behalf of everyone here, that we're glad. We swear on our integrity as journalists that if such rumours were to ever surface again, we will do our proper research." Aurore beamed and many of the staff and crew behind the cameras nodded and gave Ladybug their thumbs up. Honestly, it warmed Ladybug's heart to see such support.

When had been the last time someone had supported her like this? Sure, her parents supported her, but her friends..? Her peers? No, none of them had supported her in a long time.

"Speaking of research, I'd say to stay away from the Ladyblog." It burned to say it but it had to be said. Alya had crossed so many lines it wasn't even forgivable at this point. She had gone too far, had betrayed too many.

"Wait, what?" Aurore nearly jumped out of her seat but quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. "Pardon me Ladybug, but the Ladyblog has been a vital source of information since the very beginning."

"And I'm not denying that!" Ladybug quickly held up her hands, her eyes desperate now. "But please let me explain. The Ladyblog was amazing in the beginning, but like all things, it started to go astray. It was things like trying so hard to find out my identity. Trying to push that narrative of that whole superhero couple thing.. Ladyblogger Alya Césaire has proven time and time again that she is not trustworthy. I mean, I thought she was my biggest fan. Why does she keep pushing my words aside?"

Many people who watched the interview would agree. If you idolized someone, respected someone, truly looked up to them.. Why would you push aside their words, their wishes to try and push the narrative you're so convinced is true, but isn't there?

"And don't get me started on the whole Lila Rossi craze she seemed to be on now." At Ladybug's mention of Lila Rossi, both Estelle and Aurore had to keep from rolling their eyes. They knew all about the girl.

"You speak as if you are quite frustrated, Ladybug. What an odd reaction to your best friend." Aurore leaned forward a bit in her seat. Everyone else got to the edge of theirs. Ladybug only shook her head, looking utterly defeated.

"That's the thing, she isn't my best friend." It took everything to keep from satin that she hated her, that she had taken away her friends and her life. "The only times she's met Ladybug is when she's been akumatized, which has been around six or seven times at this point. And the other things she's claiming are so outlandish! Saving Jagged Stone's kitten from a airport runway? Clara Nightengale stealing her dance moves? And the Ladyblog just posts it out there, claiming every single story is true. I'm just scared that people are taking this one hundred percent seriously. That's why I had to drop Rena Rouge and Carapace from the team as they believed Lila Rossi over me. They didn't even try to confirm these rumours! And it hurts to think that one day, someone will take Lila's words seriously and get hurt. What if she says it's safe to dip strawberries in bleach? Or tells someone that she found a way to tame some kind of wild animal? Someone would get hurt because they believe her story and try it out for themselves!"

"My goodness, I can definitely see how that is a problem. Misinformation is very easy to spread thanks to the internet, so you being worried is a very relatable thing." Aurore nodded, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "Ladybug, do you know anyone who has taken her word seriously? This is besides the Ladyblog of course."

Ladybug closed her eyes briefly, mentally debating with herself before finally giving in. These things needed to be said.

"Collège François DuPont. Now I wasn't there personally, but I heard about this situation and looked into it. The entire situation was appalling. Apparently a student was found to have cheated, assaulted another student, and commited thievery. But the thing that stuck out is only one person saw her do all of these things; Lila Rossi. No investigation was done, no questioning other students. This student was then expelled immediately. Her teacher and her principal didn't even give her a chance. And from what people have been saying, Miss Rossi's behaviour is actively encouraged in that school. She misses countless days, no, months of school, claiming she's traveling. But when she was supposedly in Achu, doing whatever it was she was claiming with Prince Ali, I was fighting her akuma here in Paris on Heroes Day!"

"I was at school the day that happened. I knew the student that happened to. They're the nicest person in that school! Never a bad thing to say about anyone, always willing to help! I agree with you on how things were handled, it's a level of incompetence that is baffling." Aurore's hands slowly curled into fists as she remembered it all. She slowly shook her head. "The principal, their teacher, their class who backed up Rossi. It must have hurt them so much, made them feel so alone."

"That's why I want people to be more careful with what information they take as fact. It's so important, because stuff like that can lead people to a desperate place. They feel alone, like the entire world is against them. I wouldn't have let the principal and the teacher get away with that gross negligence in their jobs." Ladybug leveled her gaze directly to the camera. "People of Paris, please listen to what I am saying. I am here to be a hero, to protect you from the terror of Hawkmoth and to defeat him. But please, do not be like Principal Damocles, do not be like that teacher and her class at DuPont. Do your research, look up your facts. Do not let a liar lead you to do something dangerous and hurt yourself as well as others. Respect each other, talk and be honest. I swear on my life that I shall do the same. You are the people I swore to protect and I love. I am saying this all to protect you. And I'll hope you'll all forgive me for not protecting you sooner."

...

The interview rocked Paris. Ladybug speaking so openly about her frustrations, about the discrepancies in the Ladyblog and Lila Rossi had many people double checking the sources of everything they learned from that blog.

Alya could barely show her face as she made her way though the school hallways. Her reputation as a journalist had gone down the drain. People had basically started boycotting her blog, harrassing her, or trash talking her on other forums and sites. Even a lot of news outlets picked this up.

What hurt the most from that interview last night was Ladybug's words towards her, both as Rena Rouge and as Alya. Surely the heroine had to be mistaken, she had never beytrayed Ladybug! And that Oblivio incident, it was just to show Chat Noir and Ladybug that they were meant to be together!

Her family was upset with her. No, upset was too tame of a word. They were pissed.

"I can't believe she lied to us.."

"Well what do you expect from someone who keeps harrassing Ladybug?"

Alya flinched when she heard the whispers and rushed into Miss Buster's class. The entire class was there, all seated, all looking utterly miserable. Many of them looked as if they had been crying all night. A lot like she had.

"W-where's Miss Bustier?" Alya asked when she eyed the empty desk. Many of her classmates shot her glares, but didn't say anything about the interview last night. After all, they had no room to talk.

"She and Principal Damocles are with the school board now. We're getting a new teacher." Adrien was the one that spoke up. He looked utterly miserable. So unlike his usual self.

"Lila isn't coming back. She was pulled from school when her mother found out what happened." Alix muttered from her seat, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

The class went quiet as they all internally contemplated how things had gotten like this. Their eyes focused on the door when it abruptly opened and Marinette came strolling in, carrying a box.

"Good morning everyone!" She said brightly, pretending not to notice the downcast expressions on their faces. She set the box on the teacher's desk before she turned towards them. "Oh? What's wrong everyone?"

".. Did you not watch the interview with Ladybug on 'Latest Buzz'?" Alya stared at Marinette, a bit dumbfounded by her friend's lack of awareness of the situation. She had been expecting Marinette to rush in with support and a fiery vengeance against those who had humiliated her best friend, maybe even a fresh pastry. But instead she was greeted with empty hands and a cheerful hello?

"Oh, well I haven't really had the time to watch much television. I mean, with my transfer papers, needing to plan out my new schedule with all of those new classes. Busy as a bee, that's me!" Marinette just beamed, giving Adrien a playful wink that had his stomach churning.

"Wait, transfering?" It was Rose that spoke up, her large eyes seeming impossibly large now. "Transfer what?"

"To my new school, of course." Marinette giggled and clasped her hands together. "I start on Monday."

"New school?!" Alya was on her feet and rushing towards Marinette. The others quickly followed, crowding around her. "What do you mean new school?! When did you ever say you were going to a new school?"

Marinette blinked, as if stunned, then tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I told you all last week, don't you remember?" Marinette tapped her lower lip, seeming to be wracking her brain before she abruptly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot, you all were deep in conversation with Lila about her upcoming event with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale. You know, the one she said she'd be attending with Ladybug, since they're such good friends. Did she ever say how it went?"

All of the students shifted uneasily, suddenly seeming to refuse to meet her face.

Alix murmured something so barely audible, Marinette held a hand to her ear and leaned closer.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Lila was lying to us!" Alix snapped as her cheeks went a flaming red.

"About everything! She never knew Jagged Stone!" Juleka spat out in fury.

"Or Prince Ali!" Rose sniffled.

"And she wasn't friends with Ladybug? They were barely acquaintances!" Alya wailed out as tears welled up in her eyes.

But Marinette hardly reacted the way they were expecting. She just gave them a small smile and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I know."

Alya sucked in a breath sharply.

"You knew..? But why did you never..?"

"Oh Alya, you silly forgetful thing. I told you the day she returned from her long 'trip', remember? I told you she was lying." Marinette gave Alya a smile that said 'oh you silly thing'. "But you told me that I should really check my sources. And I got tired of trying to bring up any lies, since that was always your response. So I decided to just stop. I mean, since you're such an inspiring, honest journalist you must double and triple check every source you come across and found every story to be true!"

Alya flinched and looked away, feeling the churning feeling in her gut again. No, the Ladyblog had been the only source for the stories. The. Only. One.

"And I'm sure all of you knew what you were doing! I mean, it makes sense; trusting the words of a complete stranger over someone you've known for a while now. Some of you since we were in diapers!" She focused her gaze on Nino and Kim, who had the grace to at least look ashamed.

"Marinette, you really should-" Adrien began, reaching out for the girl, but was cut off by her clapping her hands together.

"But it's alright! I decided that fighting with you all wasn't worth it, so I took Adrien's advice and took the high road! Don't bother exposing Lila, she isn't hurting anyone!" Marinette announced brightly, giving her hands a little wave.

The temperature in the classroom dropped by several degrees.

".. Adrien, she's kidding, right?" Nino glanced over at his friend, his eyes pleading for him to deny it all. But the sight of the blood draining from the model's face and the sweat starting to bead at his forehead told him everything he needed to know. "Dude.."

"How could you?! You knew this entire time and didn't even try to tell me?!" Alya rounded on Adrien, fury in her eyes.

"Now, now, don't get mad at Adrien. I'm sure he knew you all were going to do you research. Besides, it's not like this did anything bad for anyone." Marinette pressed a hand to her cheek, still grinning. "I mean, it's not like you all took her advice without doing any research. You didn't try the things she suggested without actually checking them out to be true, right? No one lost any scholarships or job opportunities. No one's relationships were ruined. No one was hurt."

The nauseous feeling spread to all of the class as the reality of everything caught up with them.

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I'm sure that that woman from the education bureau isn't here to fire Damocles and Bustier for their severe neglect in their duties. Expelling me with the most mediocre and shaky proof. Surely that's a school I should feel safe in! That I should be proud to be a part of. But alas, my preparations for my new school are already done, so oh well."

Marinette shrugged and adjusted her purse strap.

"Anyhow, I wish you all luck with the amazing things Lila has helped you to do! I know it must have been worth ignoring me and convincing me I was crazy. With all of the free time I've had, with you guys practically replacing me with Lila in the group, I've had tons of time to spend with my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Alya's eyes went owlishly wide as she gaped at Marinette. "But what about Adrien?!"

"Oh Alya, I fell out of love with Adrien forever ago." Marinette shook her head in an almost patronizing way that had Alya's cheeks burning with embarrassment. They didn't even pay attention to Adrien's noises of surprise. "I mean, you claimed I was jealous of Lila getting close to Adrien, that I should let the jealousy go. And you know what? You were right! So I decided Adrien wasn't worth the stress, the embarrassment.. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him straight. I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world! Goodness, did I learn my lesson!"

She giggled as if she found the entire thing amusing. She then beamed at the class.

"Well, ta-ta! I need to get back home and make sure everything is ready to go. I wish you all the best, I really do!"

They all watched, shellshocked as Marinette breezed out of the classroom like it was nothing. Like she wasn't leaving her friends, her school, her life behind. And they all would wonder exactly how badly they screwed up, if she could walk away do easily, without a care.

Permanent Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @ravennightingaleandavatempus @2sunchild2 @crazylittlemunchkin @bee-wrecker @souleateralicestein @loysydark @kceedraws @realrandomposts @alienjoyful

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#ml salt #miraculous salt #alya salt #lila salt #marinette deserves better

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wondernimbus · 4 years ago

Text

two sworn enemies — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: there is only one thing worse than being hated by draco malfoy; it’s being fancied by him.

requests are closed for now! please refrain from plagiarizing my work.

After being on the receiving end of Malfoy's torment for four whole years at Hogwarts—a place where she's supposed to be making friends and learning and making the most out of all her youthful years—[Y/N] is beginning to grow tired.

The last thing she’s supposed to be worrying about is a snarky Slytherin boy who always has some sort of rude remark resting on his lips every time he comes across her in the corridors. Or anywhere, for that matter—Draco Malfoy's incessant jest seems to stay within no boundaries.

Eleven-year-old [Y/N] used to be fazed by it; she used to cry herself to sleep every time the platinum blond would push past her in the hallway, yelling out something offensive on his way, usually to do with her friendship with blood-traitors and the "big-headed" Harry Potter (or so Malfoy referred to him). She used to feel angry—angry enough to want to whip her wand out at him and hex him into oblivion every time he'd even as much as lay eyes on her. But the more Malfoy tried to bother her, the more it didn't anymore.

Fourth year wasn't so bad. Malfoy had already called her about a hundred nasty names at that point and was running out of them—his creativity was dwindling and [Y/N]'s concern along with it. She'd even laughed at him, one time during Transfiguration class—genuinely laughed, not out of frustration or anger but because she found something that he said to her funny.

"How does it feel being surrounded by blood-traitors and Mudbloods, [Y/L/N]? Pity you chose the wrong crowd to hang around."

"How did it feel to get punched by a girl, Malfoy? I hear Hermione packs quite a punch."

Malfoy’s nose had wrinkled into his signature sneer before he scoffed. "Tell Granger she can improve her right hook." At which point [Y/N] had snorted out a laugh—and yes, it wasn't a full-blown burst of chortles, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

Fifth year rolls around and Draco Malfoy is the least of [Y/N]'s worries. She's gotten over his nagging at this point; all his jabs have lost a bit, if not all of their luster.

But then a week after classes have started, Malfoy starts acting—weird. Very weird. [Y/N] has no idea what's gotten into him, but Draco's cruel insults seem to have veered off course and taken a very dramatic turn. He still yells at her in the hallways, but not to make some harmful jibe [Y/N] has heard thousands of times before. Instead Draco—yes, Draco Malfoy, the same boy who has never once failed to torment her in the past years they've known each other—has now made it a habit to yell pick-up lines. At her. At [Y/N]. At the same girl he's been bad-mouthing for the past four years.

The first time it happens, [Y/N] can't believe her ears. She thinks he's yelling at someone else other than her, because there is no way bloody Draco Malfoy is shouting "DO YOU PLAY QUIDDITCH? BECAUSE YOU SEEM LIKE A KEEPER" at her from halfway across the Great Hall.

But he's definitely staring at her, grinning widely in that conceited sort of way that [Y/N] has always despised.

"Is he talking to me?" [Y/N] asks Hermione, bewildered.

"Looks like it." Hermione looks just as surprised as her. "Knowing Malfoy, he's not up to anything good. Ignore him, [Y/N]."

But ignoring Draco Malfoy is not something [Y/N] is capable of; the feistiness in her makes sure of that. So instead of moving on and turning a blind eye, she cups her hands over her mouth and yells, just as loud, "ARE YOU A BLUDGER? BECAUSE I'D LOVE TO BASH A BEATER'S BAT INTO YOUR—"

Whatever Malfoy is up to, [Y/N] isn't entirely sure she's enjoying it. The next afternoon—also in the Great Hall, while [Y/N] is doing her homework instead of eating lunch (because Snape apparently thinks it's a good idea to ask for a four-page essay when the school year has barely even started), there's a thump and [Y/N] looks up to see that there's a little red envelope sitting on her empty plate. Looking even further up, she sees an owl flying away from the table and out of the roof of the Great Hall, where the owls always come from to deliver letters—although that only happens at breakfast. Which means this is from someone else, likely another student.

[Y/N] stares.

"It's a Howler," Harry says from next to her, like she doesn't already know.

"I'm aware," she mutters, narrowing her eyes at it before she sets down her quill to grab it.

"Who would send you a Howler?" Ron has looked up from where he'd been shoveling beans into his plate. He crowds into her space, peering at the envelope she now holds in her hands; and she can't really answer him, because only her name is scribbled across the front in handwriting she doesn't recognize. Whoever sent it to her didn't bother with writing their own name.

She hesitates, brows furrowed as she, too, wonders where it's from. Her parents don't have a reason to send her a Howler—unless she's done something wrong that she isn't aware of. But it's only been a week since school has started and as far as she can tell, she hasn't done anything worthy of being sent a Howler. Or at least not yet.

"Might as well," she sighs—it's going to deliver its message one way or the other, anyway, and [Y/N] prefers to open it herself than have it burst into flames, rain ashes down upon her homework, and then start talking—so she opens the envelope.

The Howler jumps to life in front of her, hovering in front of her face, and [Y/N] has never seen a piece of stationery look so angry before. A forked tongue slips out of the envelope—[Y/N] braces herself for the worst, despite not knowing who on earth might have sent it—until a familiar voice booms around the Great Hall.

"ARE YOU A BASILISK? BECAUSE WHEN I SAW YOU, I FROZE."

Ron's shoulders automatically start shaking with laughter. Most of the Great Hall—or at least the ones close enough to hear the Howler—have turned around to watch the spectacle unfold, giggling behind their palms and pointing at [Y/N] like she can't see them. [Y/N], in the meantime, stares, completely dead to the world and everything else around her, because she knows that voice.

But then the Howler keeps talking. "IF YOU LET ME TAKE YOU ON A DATE, I CAN PROMISE YOU THINGS THOSE FILTHY PEASANTS CAN NEVER GIVE YOU."

The entire hall has fallen completely silent. [Y/N] feels her face burning up, but not with embarrassment—[Y/N] is angry. She feels it thrumming in her veins, curling around her lungs, clouding all of her senses.

With a single flick of [Y/N]'s wand, the Howler bursts into flames with a final feeble wheeze of I'm also a fairly good snogger. Ron is roaring with laughter and Harry has also joined in. Two-faced gits.

[Y/N] slams her palms down on the table and vaguely even registers the pain this gives her as she steps out from behind the bench and turns around to face the Slytherin table because of course she knows who sent the Howler. Of course she knows who would go out of his way to humiliate her in front of the entirety of Hogwarts, because that extremely irritating, maddeningly haughty voice can only belong to one person—and sure enough, the idiot in question is standing there on top of the benches, arms outstretched towards her and that proud, snooty look on his face like he expects her to actually be impressed.

Over Ron and Harry's laughter, [Y/N] shouts angrily, "Malfoy!"

Malfoy drops his arms to his sides, hops off the bench, and swaggers towards her. She meets him halfway—and when she does, she doesn't hesitate to shove him angrily by the shoulders. He stumbles back a little, but he's still grinning annoyingly wide. "Have you come to me bearing an answer?" he says, his tone mocking, and [Y/N] just barely suppresses herself from whipping out her wand and jabbing it somewhere she wouldn't want a wand anywhere near. They are still surrounded by teachers. "I imagine it's a yes—who would turn me down, after all—"

"Drop the fucking act," she hisses; all eyes are on them, because Hogwarts never passes up a chance for gossip, and this might be the most exciting one yet. Draco Malfoy publicly asking out the girl everyone knows he's hated, and has hated him, for a long time—what a spectacle. But [Y/N] knows that his intentions are far from genuine; this is just another way to humiliate her and get on her nerves. And as much as she hates to admit it, it's a pretty good fucking move, because she hasn't been this annoyed by him in a long time.

Her teeth are gritted together so hard her words barely come out coherent. "I don't know what you're playing at," she practically growls, taking a step closer to get in his face, "But I encourage you to get yourself together."

But Malfoy seems unaffected. "Pity you didn't let the Howler finish," he drawls, still with that same smirk on his lips as he wriggles his brows suggestively. "I could've told you more about my superior snogging skills."

"Which is exactly why I didn't," she fumes. "We're in the middle of lunch—any more of you talking about your 'superior snogging skills' and the entirety of this hall would've thrown up on themselves. I know I would've."

At this, the smile on Malfoy's face droops a little, a ghost of his familiar sneer seeping in. [Y/N] takes a step back away from him, because she can't stand being more than a few feet near the prat. "You've got a lot of nerve, pulling this," she scoffs. "Try it again and you'll regret it. Now excuse me while I go do my bloody homework."

And then she turns around, goes back to the Gryffindor table, and does her bloody homework.

—

But Malfoy, as it turns out, isn't as weak-willed as he lets on. She's started receiving Howlers every morning at breakfast, all of which burst into flames every time to rain ashes upon her innocent plate of eggs and toast, but only after loudly blurting out some ridiculously bad pick-up line. It's been four days since the first Howler and they've only gotten progressively worse ever since—"you must be a Boggart because I'm terrified of pretty women"—and [Y/N] is beginning to grow so very tired.

Today, she hexes him in the middle of the hallway just as he's coming out of Potions class. She had warned him, all those days ago, that he'd regret it if he didn't let up. So [Y/N] watches, terribly amused as Draco starts wailing in the corridor, his hands splayed over his face in a measly attempt to cover the sardines falling out of his nostrils. It's an irreversible hex—or at least for eight hours—but until then, Draco will have to deal with the tiny fishes that shoot out of his nose at random intervals. [Y/N] can't bring herself to feel bad, not when he's humiliated her time and time again in front of so many people.

No Howlers arrive the morning after. There's a sense of what feels like disappointment coming off of the Great Hall; some people have actually turned around in their seats to watch her in anticipation for an owl to come swooping down upon her bearing a red envelope. Unfortunately for them, it doesn't happen. [Y/N], meanwhile, is finally at peace.

Or at least until Ron jabs her in the side and goes, "So are you?" he's grinning. "A Boggart, I mean."

It's a reference to the Howler she received yesterday. Her movements are dangerously swift; immediately she smacks the back of his head, sending him into a complaining frenzy. She rolls her eyes. "Stupid Malfoy."

"As much as I hate to say this," Harry begins, "I kind of wish you hadn't hexed him into stopping. His pick-up lines were pretty funny."

"Ha!" [Y/N] points a finger at Harry and nods approvingly, laughing a little. "That's a good one, Harry."

Harry stares at her dead in the eye. "Oh, I wasn't joking."

Her face falls.

"I suppose being on the receiving end of Malfoy's affection isn't any better than being hated by him," says Hermione, offering [Y/N] a sympathetic smile. "It's a good thing you showed him not to mess with you any further, [Y/N]."

[Y/N] tries for a smile of her own, but it comes out all stiff and crooked. "I feel like the past few days have been a fever dream," she says, shuddering. "This new form of—bullying, I don't know—has just been so weird. The bad names I've gotten used to, but—the compliments? The pick-up lines?"

"D'you think he's gone off his rocker?" Ron suggests.

"Maybe he fancies you," says Hermione off-handedly.

The effect this has on the three is instantaneous; Ron, Harry, and [Y/N] simultaneously blanch as though they've all swallowed something sour at the same time. Ron is choking on a piece of toast and Harry has spit water everywhere.

"Absolutely not," [Y/N] is shaking her head, nose wrinkled in distaste. "He can't possibly—that's ridiculous. We've hated each other for years."

"Feelings do change," Hermione shrugs, rolling her eyes at Ron and Harry, who have yet to recover from their initial shock. "And besides, it was just a suggestion. Although I don't see why he'd go out of his way to send you Howlers repeatedly asking you out if he doesn't fancy you."

"Because he wants to humiliate me in front of everyone!"

"Oh, alright, alright," Hermione sighs, sensing her defeat. "But you never know."

Ron has gathered his bearings once more. He turns to Hermione, genuine concern flooding his features, and blubbers, "Did I hear you right? Malfoy—fancying [Y/N]?"

"Yes, Ronald." Another eye-roll. "It's not that outlandish. Boys are boys—even Malfoy."

"Merlin's beard," he slumps down in his seat, shaking his head. "I don't think I've ever been this surprised. Not since I heard that Percy managed to score himself a girlfriend, and that was three years ago."

A few days pass, and while no more Howlers arrive, Malfoy is still as insistent as ever in his attempts to "woo" her—or, well, whatever it is he's trying to do. [Y/N] doesn’t quite know what to call it anymore; for some reason, it no longer feels like an attempt to bully or humiliate her. It's not as though he's insulting her, and it's not like her reputation is in any way being lessened. In fact, most of Hogwarts, it seems, enjoys the so-called "love-hate relationship" they've got going on, and expects them to get together sometime in the near future.

[Y/N] learns all of this from Fred and George, who are always a good source of gossip.

"What better love story than two sworn enemies falling in love?" George gushes, clasping his hands together.

"So romantic," Fred sings, closing his eyes and swaying his hips as though listening to a sultry tune only he can hear. “Setting aside their differences to answer the call of their hearts."

"Oh, Malfoy's still an arse, of course."

"But it's still romantic."

Part of [Y/N] wishes that the twins hadn’t told her that, because it makes it all the more confusing on her part. If, by some miracle, Malfoy does fancy her—what is she supposed to do? Ride off with him into the sunset? They are enemies—they have been for four, supposedly five years now, except this year Malfoy is being an insufferable twat who won't stop yelling pick-up lines at her in the hallways.

[Y/N] decides to turn a blind eye on him. If she ignores him for long enough, he's bound to stop.

Right?

—

Despite being a close friend to the famous Harry Potter, [Y/N] can say she’s made a name for herself at school that stretches far beyond just that girl who hangs out with the Chosen One. She’s been playing for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for two years and has contributed to some of the house’s most fantastic wins as a Chaser, and she’s also a fairly good student. She may have a penchant for trouble-making, but she knows how to limit herself. She prides herself for her work ethic and thus her grades are above average—enough for her to earn the favor of most of her teachers and for eager first-years to sometimes come up to her asking for help doing homework.

But enough for those very same first-years to come up to her in the hallway ready to do all of her biddings for the day, practically demanding her to hand over her books so that they can carry them for her? No. Certainly not. [Y/N] may have made a name for herself, but definitely not one renowned enough to earn the eleven-year-olds now crowded around her moments after she steps out of potions class, telling her that, “We’re here at your disposal! If you need us to do anything, just say the word!”

[Y/N] stares at the three children clustered around her, all wide-eyed and for some reason incredibly eager for her to start bossing them around.

Taken aback, she ushers them into a corner; the hallway is busy and people will keep bumping into them if they stay in the middle of the hallway like that.

Once away from the bustling main corridor, she bends down a little so that she’s at eye-level with all of them. “At my disposal?” she repeats, eyes narrowing playfully. “What do you mean?”

“We’re here to carry your books for you or grab you snacks from the kitchens or tie your shoelaces if you need us to!” one of them exclaims, bouncing on his toes.

Alright—this is getting ridiculous. [Y/N] pauses, lips pressed together into a thin line as she stares at each one of the first-years in turn; all three of them are staring at her as though waiting for her to start asking them to do push-ups.

She inhales. Someone must have put them up to this, because there is no way these children woke up this morning and simultaneously decided to become her servants for the day.

“Well,” she begins, smiling at them—and good grief, did she really look that young when she was eleven? “Thank you for offering to help me. I appreciate it, really—but lucky for me I’ve got some very capable arms and I think I can handle tying my shoelaces and carrying my books around and whatnot. But again—thank you. You’re all very nice.”

She pauses to look at their reactions; the smiles on their faces have drooped a little as they turn to one another, seemingly at a loss for words. “But,” the one girl says, frowning, “We’re supposed to help you.”

[Y/N] raises her eyebrows. “Supposed to?”

Someone definitely put them up to this—[Y/N] is certain of it now. And she has a good guess as to who.

She starts by saying, tone gentle, “Did someone tell you to do this? Because that’s really kind, and I’d love to thank them.”

The girl bunches up her lips in thought, shuffling her feet against the ground. “We’re not supposed to say,” she mutters, glancing at the two boys next to her nervously.

[Y/N] inhales. She needs confirmation, so she crouches down so that she’s the same height as them, and offers them all the friendliest, most trustworthy smile she can muster. The kind that wins over eleven-year-olds. “You won’t get in trouble if you tell me,” she tells them gently, and waits for them to nod in understanding before she goes, “Was it Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?”

They don’t have to respond—the looks on their faces are enough confirmation. [Y/N] suppresses the urge to roll her eyes, because of course Malfoy is the kind of person to somehow get first-years to do something like this. And she’s pretty sure it has something to do with bribery.

“Did he promise to give you anything, maybe?” [Y/N] presses on patiently.

The girl leans in and cups her hand over her mouth to whisper excitedly, “Chocolate frogs. Five for each of us.”

Ah. Of course. [Y/N] sighs inwardly and nods, standing up properly to once more tower over the tiny first-years. As much as she would love to have her own personal butlers, there is absolutely no way she is agreeing to take any part in exploiting these young kids. So she ruffles all of their hair in turn and promises to give them much, much more chocolate frogs than Malfoy will ever be able to offer if they swear to ignore him for the rest of their lives.

So she stands there in the hallway, a minute late for Transfiguration, watching the three first-years skip down the hallway, grinning excitedly to themselves—no doubt because they’ve just been promised what could be an infinite supply of chocolate frogs.

Which [Y/N] will now have to spend a lump of her summer savings on. Great. Bloody fantastic.

She didn’t think she could hate Draco Malfoy even more than she already did, but now, with the burden of buying chocolate frogs resting on her shoulders, she realizes that anything is possible.

[Y/N] finds Draco later on in the day when she’s heading to the Great Hall for dinner; as she’s passing by a window that coincidentally overlooks the Quidditch pitch, she sees him zooming around the stadium by himself, no doubt practicing to better his (in [Y/N]’s opinion) ghastly Seeker skills.

So she trudges off to the pitch, arms folded over her chest as she yells, “Malfoy!”

He notices, stops in mid-air, and immediately flies down to land in front of her, one hand on his hip and the other resting on top of his broom. That signature smirk is already on his face, mirrored by [Y/N]'s angry scowl. “Here to take me up on my offer for a date?” he grins, shaking his (sweaty, wet) hair out of his eyes. [Y/N] watches the movement, unimpressed. “Or were you just planning to watch me practice?”

She scoffs, tearing her eyes away from the way he’s running a hand through his blond hair. “Neither. I thought you were bad enough, Malfoy, but bribing first-years into doing my bidding for me? In exchange for bloody chocolate frogs?”

Malfoy’s hand pauses in carding through his hair. He drops it back to his side. “So you figured it out.”

”Why else would first-years be so eager for me to boss them around?”

”Maybe because they find you just as beautiful as I do?” he suggests, eyes glinting, the smile on his face growing even wider. [Y/N] lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter, because is he really still keeping this act up when no one is around to see? Is he that desperate to get on her nerves?

“Just stop it, Malfoy,” she says through gritted teeth, taking a step closer to him. At this, he whistles a little, eyebrows rising, and for some reason [Y/N] tries very, very hard not to look at the sweat trickling down his forehead, the pale pink hue of his cheeks from the strain of practicing—“Please for the love of Merlin can you just drop the whole I’m-in-love-with-you act? You got what you wanted. You’ve annoyed me enough.”

Draco's nose wrinkles. “Oh, but that’s not what I wanted,” the smile on his face falters a little. ”Did you really think I did all of this just to annoy you?”

[Y/N]’s eyebrows furrow—and is that her heart skipping a beat? No. No, definitely not. Falling quiet for a few moments, she finally sniffs and says, “Why else would you go out of your way to act absolutely smitten by me?”

An echo of Hermione's voice from several days ago reverberates through her head. Maybe he fancies you.

Malfoy shrugs, his smirk falling just the tiniest bit to be replaced by a semblance of sincerity. But that can’t be. And then he says, “Maybe I fancy you,” and [Y/N]’s eyes widen.

That can’t be right. Flabbergasted, she blinks, taking a step back. This has to be some sort of joke—no, yes, that’s exactly what this is: another way to crawl under her skin and annoy the daylights out of her. She has to applaud him for his creativity.

Pinching the space between her eyes in irritation, she looks up at Malfoy, inhales, and says, deadpan, “I’m being serious.”

“I am too,” Malfoy counters, eyebrows raised innocently, and [Y/N] has never wanted to smack him more than she does now.

She lets out another incredulous laugh, because this entire situation is just so bloody ridiculous that she can’t quite wrap her head around it. Throwing her hands up in the air in frustration, she turns to him and says, “Alright—okay. Let’s say you do fancy me. I’m going to pretend for a few seconds that you do—okay?”

Draco watches her, evidently amused judging by his grin, shrugs, and nods.

“Okay,” she huffs. “If you do fancy me—why on earth would you?”

Draco opens his mouth, but she cuts him off: “We hate each other, Malfoy. We’ve hated each other since the moment you laid eyes on me and I laid eyes on you. What could have possibly changed your rotten mind?”

He rolls his eyes at this, shifting a little on where he stands. “For starters,” he begins, like he’s talking to a five-year-old, “I didn’t hate you. I disliked the fact that you hung out with the wrong sort of people.”

”The wrong sort of people,” she repeats, deadpan.

“The Weasleys. Blood traitors. Mudbloods.”

She scowls at him, brain struggling to fathom what the bloody hell he’s trying to tell her. Managing to once more plow through her confusion, she says, “Your point is?”

“I’d have asked you out long ago if only you were smarter with who you chose to befriend,” and there it is—that familiar, distasteful sneer [Y/N] hasn’t seen in a long time. “Your family’s one of the oldest wizarding families around. It’s a shame.”

She lets out another scoff of disbelief, but the first few of Draco's words have something inside of her stirring. She refuses to address it and instead says, “So—and again, I’m pretending—you fancy me because of my family?”

He lets out a little sniff. “Not what I said.”

”What is it you’re trying to say, then?”

“Blimey, how long is it going to take you to realize that I actually bloody fancy you?”

Draco has dropped all pretense of nonchalant arrogance; he’s staring at her, obviously frustrated and a little annoyed. He stops leaning on his broom and lets it drop to the ground in favor of advancing towards her until he’s mere inches away from her face.

”I fancy you,” he repeats, and it’s funny, how he says it, because declarations of love are supposed to be sweet and gentle—not scathing and angry. He’s scowling down at her, lip curling, brows drawn in together in the middle in a tight frown. “I’ve decided that I don’t care who you hang around anymore because I fancy you. Do you get it now?”

[Y/N] swallows, staring at him, momentarily frozen. Malfoy doesn’t seem as though he’s joking—and now she doesn’t know what to say. She’s never been this close to him before—close enough to see herself in the reflection of his eyes, which are a striking grey and remind her of thunderstorms brewing behind dark clouds—

She takes in a deep breath and swivels around, turning away from him. “Stop sending children to be my servants,” she says, and starts to walk away—until Malfoy grabs her wrist and forces her to look at him again.

For a moment the look in his eyes convinces [Y/N] that he’s about to apologize, but then his lips are splitting into a wide grin again and he says, “What if I bribe a seventh year into doing your homework for you?”

Another scoff. She tears her wrist away from his grip and stalks off, in complete and utter disbelief.

”Or a house-elf to bring you food?” he calls after her. “Someone to do your hair for you in the morning? Or someone to yell at me for you?”

She halts at the last one, and for some odd, unknown reason, she feels like smiling. But she doesn’t, because that will open a door into something she isn’t sure she wants to explore. So she turns around, suppressing that mysterious little smile, already twenty feet away from Malfoy as she says, loudly, “I like doing that last one myself, thanks.”

From this distance, she thinks Malfoy might be smiling. But she doesn’t stay long enough to find out.

click here to read pt. 2!

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #harry potter fanfic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

Text

MC’s Date With the Side Characters is Going Terribly and Then it Starts to Rain

Brothers ver.

Diavolo

It was a tragic truth that the poor Crown Prince didn’t get to go out and have fun very often, but he had managed to get a singular day off! He of course was going to spend it with the future monarch-consort of the Devildom!

Diavolo had a whole list written out that was full of fun cliche date activities that he wanted to try, and it was also full of stuff MC said they wanted to do, so the date was going to be completely perfect.

As Diavolo and MC walked hand in hand to Madame Scream’s, they both took notice to the fact that literally every single demon in the vicinity was staring at the two of them.

The crown prince laughed it off, saying that MC looked so positively radiant that everyone couldn’t help but stop and look. MC laughed and leaned their head against Dia’s arm, but both of them knew full well that everyone was really staring at Diavolo.

To be fair, wouldn’t you stare if the most powerful person in the entire realm walked by holding hands with a pathetic little human?

They got to Madame Scream’s, got their sweets, then Diavolo got a phone call. It was Lucifer frantically explaining that the RAD gym was on fire and he needed to run everything by Diavolo before he could do anything about it.

That ate up about fifteen minutes and the desserts ended up getting cold… Diavolo tried to make light of it as the two finally got to eat their chocolate chip cookies.

“So apparently one student thought it would be a good idea to set a firework off inside, you know I encourage having fun at school but maybe they should have set this off outside.” “Maybe..?”

Next it was time for a romantic walk on the beach! That would have gone better if Diavolo remembered it was giant-crab season. As cool as it was to watch Diavolo hammer-throw an eight foot tall crab into the ocean it left MC’s ankles vulnerable to get pinched by regular sized crabs.

And maybe they both should have wore appropriate shoes… they were sinking into the sand and it was getting into their shoes…

Okay, so the beach didn’t work out, Diavolo had plenty of other ideas! They just had to- wait he was getting another call.

Half an hour later, Diavolo was finally able to hang up and gave MC an apologetic look. He said that he needed to cut the date short and go to an unavoidable meeting…

Oh well, at least this date couldn’t get any-

A loud crack of thunder caused Diavolo to nearly drop his phone in surprise. Oh… oh no… not rain…

Large droplets of water pelted the pair as they waited for Barbatos to pick them up. Diavolo slowly lifted up his arm and shielded MC from the rain as best he could. Well… this outfit was ruined, the least he could do was try and save MC’s…

“Well…” Diavolo tentatively began. “I heard getting caught in the rain is supposed to be romantic..?”

MC only sighed and moved a little closer, they folded their arms and stared blankly ahead. Their glassy expression made the crown prince’s heart sink right to the floor. Maybe he could cancel the meeting! He promised he’d spend more time with MC and he intended to keep it!

“MC, I could-”

“Dia, no.” MC looked up and gave him a small smile. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I knew what I was getting into when I said I’d be with you. Your kingdom is more important than one little date.”

“But I wanted to make you happy today…” Diavolo mumbled. His kingdom had always come first, before his friends, before MC, before even himself, was it so much to ask to have just one day for him to spend with the person he loved?

The human reaches up and lowered Diavolo’s arm and looped it around their shoulders. “And you did, any time that I get to spend with you makes me happy. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. The crab moment was pretty awesome.”

MC pulled out their DDD and showed Diavolo a picture of himself chucking the giant crab into the watery horizon. “We can put at least one moment of this date into the photo album.”

The precise tapping of the falling raindrops cause the DDD to flick to the next picture, which was an awkwardly angled snapshot of MC brandishing a stick at a much smaller crab who had attached its claws to their ankle.

“Uh, maybe not this picture…”

Barbatos

The poor butler rarely ever gets a day off, and he could tell MC missed spending time with him, so he asked Diavolo for a day off.

Of course Diavolo said yes, but when the day of the date came…

Barbatos saw every mishap and disaster coming a mile away. The smart thing to do would be cancel the date, but NO. Barbatos was going to use his powers for good and make sure MC had the time of their life!

The first disaster was supposed to come in the form of a pickpocket stealing MC’s wallet, key word being supposed.

As the perp made their way through the somewhat crowded sidewalk, fully prepared to swipe some wallets, Barbatos quickly twirled and dipped MC out of the way. This action also conveniently had the result of Barb knocking the pickpocket out cold.

MC of course, was none the wiser of the attempted theft and just assumed Barbatos was being suave (tm).

The second disaster was both MC and Barbatos getting hot coffee accidentally spilled all over them. Or it WOULD have been if Barbatos hadn’t quickly notified the person that would have spilled the drink that their shoelaces were undone.

Hell yeah! Second disaster averted!

The date progressed smoothly, well, as smooth as it could have gone. All those days of work and the task of making sure MC was none the wiser of any of the nasty things that could have ruined the date was really making Barbatos tired…

“Barbatos, are you alright?” “*exhausted breathing* Y-yes dearest, of course. Don’t trouble yourself.”

MC would have bought that lie if Barbatos didn’t look like he had just finished running a ten kilometre long race through a heatwave.

After making sure MC was not in the path of the escaped hellhound that would be running down the street in three, two, one, there it went, MC was safe and sound, Barbatos sighed in relief.

Just one more thing…

In the smoothest possibly motion, Barbatos opened the umbrella he had been carrying and held it over himself and MC.

MC looked up at the umbrella perplexed. “Barbatos, why-”

Thunder rumbled as the first drops of rain pelted harmlessly against the umbrella. Barbatos smiled softly and took MC’s hand. “Did you enjoy the date, darling?”

“Have you been doing damage control all day..?” MC asked. “Oh no wonder you look exhausted…”

Barbatos’ face burned with embarrassment when MC wrapped their arms around him.

“You work way to hard, this date was supposed to be relaxing for the both of us,” MC sighed. “You know what? We’re going to go back to the Demon Lord’s Castle, and I’m making you tea and snacks.”

“MC..?”

They began to pull Barbatos in the direction of the castle and plucked the umbrella out of his hand.

“I’ll hold this.” MC smiled brightly. “You relax, mister.”

Barbatos was about to protest, then sighed, no future he could see in his brief overview involved MC giving up on their new mission to make him take a break. He felt himself smile, he really lucked out with this human, didn’t he?

Simeon

The next volume of TSL had been released and Simeon was officially completely exhausted. He had spent the past two days signing special hardback copies and his writing hand was officially deceased.

He needed to relax and unwind… who better to do it with than MC? Simeon simply invited MC over to Purgatory Hall to hang out.

Oh my~ premarital eye contact~

It was just so nice, MC rested their head on Simeon’s chest while they lounged in bed watching TV, their hands gently intwined, the smell of Luke baking cookies…

Simeon let out a content sigh, he was truly and completely at peace in that moment. The soft knock on the door to his room barely phased him.

Solomon poked his head into the room with a bright smile.

“Hi you two, so sorry to barge in on your date, but before Luke took over the kitchen I made way too much food. I’ll bring some in for you guys!” “Solomon no-” “Wait!”

The date was now in intense danger. They needed to get out of there immediately! The first thing the angel could think to do to save the love of his life was to throw them out of the window.

Fret not, MC’s fall slowed considerably and they gently landed on the grass outside thanks to Simeon’s magic, but the angel himself was not as lucky. Yes his fall was slowed, but he still faceplanted into the dirt.

The two ended up running for dear life away from Purgatory Hall, further exhausting Simeon.

Well, at least they ended up near a very pretty fountain. Simeon and MC sat on the fountain ledge and resumed their snuggling.

Until Simeon got a phone call from a very frantic Luke begging for help with his math homework.

Due to being quite rusty at the subject, Simeon had to teach himself how to calculate the square root of something and then teach Luke, which was honestly frustrating for everyone involved.

After the homework was felt with, Simeon got ready to sit back down on the fountain ledge, ended up missing, then slipped straight into the fountain. It was a good thing that the water was shallow…

Then to MC and Simeon’s horror, it began to rain.

“Well…” Simeon sighed, he accepted MC’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled out of the fountain. “This isn’t so bad..?”

Lightning cracked in the distance, Simeon pulled MC into his arms on reflex, only to then realize that MC had become just as soaked as he was.

“I… sorry, MC.”

Simeon slowly unwrapped his arms from around MC, but the human remained firmly in place. “Ah, it’s fine. Want to call a cab or back to Purgatory Hall?”

“Y-yes, that sounds-” Simeon felt around for his phone, then winced and looked into the fountain. His phone was lying at the bottom of the fountain… “Do you think you could call?”

MC perked up and planted a kiss on Simeon’s cheek. “Of course, we can cuddle in the car.”

“That sounds wonderful…”

Solomon

Solomon decided to text MC at two in the morning to ask them out. In his defence, he was up late making potions and didn’t notice what time it was.

“Hey MCMCMCMCMC-” “ITS TWO OCLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING.” “Wanna go on a date tmrw?” “…ok.” “🥳” “see you tomorrow, Solomon.” “Oh yea- that reminds me- look at this snail I saw yesterday.” “Effervescent.” “Marry me.”

Obviously super happy that MC said yes to the date, Solomon was newly rejuvenated and went back to making his potion. It was six in the morning when he realized that maybe he should have just quit while he was ahead and went back to sleep.

It was a little late for that! He needed to go to school, then go on the date. Solomon gracefully took MC’s hand, led them out of the school, then fell down the stairs.

It um… may have messed up his tailbone. Solomon never felt more like an old man than when he and MC sat down at the cafe for coffee and MC had to help him into his seat.

The coffee arrived, MC and Solomon drank it, and Solomon just sighed in relief. This was nice, time with his sweet MC…

The way they made him feel so completely at ease… that smile… those eyes… those eyes were looking very confused-

“Solomon…” “Yes my sweet?” “There’s uh… there’s a giant spider on your head…”

…Solomon looked up and the giant spider fell right into his drink. He wasn’t thirsty anymore.

A little later, he and MC were walking hand in hand through the park, the darkness of the Devildom was almost comforting as the fireflies and pixies created little balls of light that danced around the pair.

It was such a soothing sight to behold, Solomon and MC sat down beneath a giant tree. MC rested their head on his shoulder, and Solomon let out a content sigh. He was just going to rest his eyes for a moment…

Solomon was harshly shaken awake by MC who yelled at him for falling asleep in the presence of pixies. Solomon had completely forgotten that pixies like to possess sleeping people. That was probably why he was awoken in the middle of stuffing his face with cookies that were in his backpack.

The two unanimously decided that it would be best to head back to Purgatory Hall. When the two had just returned to civilization… Solomon heard thunder.

Quick as a flash, Solomon looped his arm around MC’s waist and pulled them closer, using his other hand to draw a circle above them, when the rain began to fall, the two were completely dry thanks to the shield.

“Ha… HA! HAHAHA!” Solomon pointed and laughed at the sky. “GOT YOU BITCH!”

“Solomon..?” MC asked tentatively. “Are you alright?”

The sorcerer looked at his dear sweet perfect MC, gave them a toothy smile, and shook his head. “No darling, I’ve been awake for 56 hours.”

“Wait what? You texted me at two in the morning, you couldn’t have been awake for more than an extra few hours..?”

Solomon peppered MC’s face with sleepy kisses as the rain pattered against the shield. “I have a weird life.”

“You know what, I buy it.” MC sighed fondly. “Do you want to go home and sleep?”

“More than anything, I’ll teleport us home!”

“NO! Let’s just call someone to pick us up!”

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Diavolo #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Solomon #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Always Here

Corpse Husband x Reader with Selective Mutism (Gender Neutral - 2nd POV)

Warnings: Mentions of Anxiety and Depression (only briefly), Swearing, Mild Insecurity

Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: You explain to yours and Corpse’s friends why it’d be a bad idea to meet them in person, finally revealing the secret you’ve been keeping from them since you met.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so sorry for the long wait for the fic to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it if you come across it! And if I’ve gotten anything about the disorder incorrectly, anyone who wants to can correct me in the comments. Please keep in mind that this is the first time I’m hearing about this disorder so I have probably made mistakes which are in no way intentional or meant to offend anyone. Love, Vy ❤

“Hey..?“ You hear the soft voice of your boyfriend come from the other side of the slightly ajar door to your shared room where you’ve been working on a project for your students for Monday.

“Hmm?“ You hum questioningly, not taking your eyes off the laptop screen where the words you’ve been typing for hours now stare back at you. Being a foreign languages tutor requires a lot of attention, dedication and caution. Not once have you reread a text to see that there are French words in it when you had intended for it to be in Spanish or vice versa.

That has worked out well in your favor this past week. You’ve been dodging requests to join streams with Corpse and your friends for almost seven days now, always using the same excuse. It’s not so much so that you don’t want to hang out with them, but there is a certain topic you want to avoid which they’d touched upon the last time you were on call with them and that is: meeting up in person.

“We’re playing Phasmophobia...wanna join?“ He asks cautiously, now taking a step inside the room, “It’s your game after all...“

You save the progress you’ve made with the worksheet before spinning your desk chair to face the doorway where Corpse is awkwardly standing as though he’s unsure if he’s welcomed inside the room.

“I know, I know it is but I’m swamped, really....“ You trail off, hoping the same trick would work for the hundredth time. A quick look into his eyes bursts that hopeful bubble of yours - there’s a spark suggesting he won’t let it fly this time.

“Are you? I mean, yeah I know how much of a busybody you are but this seems too convenient....Are you sure there’s no other reason for you avoiding us?“ He asks, carefully picking his words as his gaze struggles to stay focused on yours, frequently falling to the floor as if he’s nervous or guilty because of what he’s saying.

You pause for a second. On any other occasion you wouldn’t have hesitated to tell him not to worry and reassure him that work is just keeping you away from him and your friends but right now you can’t lie to him. Seeing him so flooded with worry to the point he feels helpless makes your heart ache.

Your voice almost fails you but you fight it. You’ve never let the words die down in your throat around Corpse. He’s the only person who didn’t stress you out or trigger your anxiety upon meeting for the first time. It probably had something to do with the unspoken understanding you two shared. The struggles you could relate on and the fact that you both had been fucked over by life from the very start of it and later on as the years went by.

“I just...I don’t want them to think of me or see me any differently, you know? But I don’t want to lie to them either. Work and stuff is only half the truth, if I’m being honest but it still feels like I’m such a nasty liar...Like I’m letting my morals down. I don’t wanna lose my friends they are right now either...I don’t think I’d ever hop back on stream if I know they look at me and talk to me with pity.“

This encourages him to finally cross the threshold and walk over to you, squatting in front of your chair, “There’s no way that’ll happen, Y/N. I know those people like the back of my hand. I know that nothing will change the way they see you. Rae would never stop casually flirting with you every now and then. Toast would never pass up an opportunity to anger you to the point of turning you into a murderer and Sykkuno... well, he will continue being adorable and sweet with you as he always has been.“ He explains, holding your hands in his, resting them in your lap as his eyes dig into yours, searching for all the emotions you’re feeling at the moment.

You shake your head ever so slightly, “You can’t be sure. They’re human, Corpse. Pity and sympathy are parts of human nature, part of the humane reaction when told something bad has happened to someone or someone’s struggling with something...it’s natural! But that doesn’t change the fact that I absolutely hate the thought of it happening to me.”

“And it’s a friend’s nature to be able to gauge your emotions and what you do and don’t wanna hear. A friend would know how to react, how to respond and how to comfort you.“ He stands his ground, speaking so softly yet convincingly it’s baffling, “They’ll know better than to pity you. You - someone who could easily kick their asses in any given Among Us game - have nothing to worry about. That I guarantee and I’m asking you to trust me.“

You’re left on the fence. On one hand, the fear of losing what you have with the squad right now, having them not be your safe space is a nightmarish thought of its own, but then again Corpse has known these people for a lot longer than you have which gives you a reason to believe him.

“What if it all goes downhill?“ You ask, voice barely above a whisper as you stare down at your joined hands in your lap. His gaze is as convincing as his words and you really don’t wanna look at it right now because you’re afraid it’ll convince you.

“What if it doesn’t?“ He replies without missing a beat. “It won’t, Y/N. I bet my life that it won’t go downhill.”

There’s a long pause, leaving the two of you in a dead silence. The air in the room has become heavy with the tension and suspense of awaiting your answer. The fun but not really fun part is that you too are waiting to see what the answer will be. You’re as much in the dark as he is. You don’t know what your brain will decide in the last second, you can’t predict it when your mind and body feel so detached from one another at the moment.

“Alright...“ You only become aware of the word when it echoes off the walls, slicing through the silence, “But...in a case shit goes bad, I’ll never forgive you.“

Without a second to waste he gets to his feet, lifting you with him. His lips press against yours briefly before he says: “I know I won’t get to find out what that feels like.”

Yeah, I hope so too.

* * * * *

“Hey guys, guess who I finally dragged back on stream!“ Corpse announces proudly as the arm that he has wrapped around your waist tightens its hold as if you’re about to jump off his lap and run for the hills which you’re awfully willing to do.

“Hi everybody!“ You greet your friends, “Long time no see!“

“Oh my Gosh, hi Y/N!“ Rae is the first to exclaim a response, provoking the corners of your lips to curve, “I’ve missed you so much!“

“Aww, I missed you too, sweetie.“ You gush, momentarily forgetting the stress of the inevitable.

“Ugh, we really need to meet up someday! You can’t run away or leave me on read in real life.“ She laughs, obviously only half-joking with some true intentions behind the joke.

Feeling surprisingly calm, you let out a sigh, inhale a long deep breath and go on to say, “I wish I could, Rae, I really do, but I’m afraid that isn’t possible for the time being.”

You look to your side and see Corpse’s gaze fixated on you as he nods his head slowly, a small warm smile on his face, an unspoken encouragement. He knows you have it in the bag, you’re the one doubting yourself.

“Oh, why is that? Is something wrong?“ Your heart flutters at the worry evident in Rae’s voice. You can tell she cares about you and Corpse so much, much like the rest of the members in the call who second her question, all with the same amount of concern.

“Well...“ You press your lips in a thin line as you compose coherent sentences in your head, “You see, there’s a small detail about me that I’ve been keeping from you since day one. It’s not something I go around telling people but considering I’m about to reveal it in front of tens of thousands of viewers, I guess it’s no longer gonna be a secret...“ You pause for a second, waiting for the words to string themselves together into sensible statements. Your anxiety is bubbling up but is still at a low enough level for your body to not shut down. “I have this ailment - Selective Mutism. It’s a form of anxious reaction that manifests in the loss of ability to speak in certain situations and places or around certain people. And I do wanna point out that I’ve been getting the hand of it more and more every year and has been less and less of a problem as I get older, but it was a real hinderance when I was a child. However, when put into situations like meeting new people in person outside of my workplace is a setup for the perfect trigger to cause my voice to fail me and for my brain to run out of words. And I REALLY don’t want that to happen, especially not around any of you. I’d do anything to meet you guys, be able to give you a hug and thank you all for changing my life for the better but at this time in my life I’m not going to be able to do that. So, I’m asking you to be patient with me and don’t worry, you’ve each got a booked hug, I’ve got a strict list so no one will be left out, I promise.“

Corpse pulls you closer, placing a kiss on your cheek as you slowly start to calm yourself down with an efficient breathing exercise that has proven to help you most of the times you feel overwhelmed.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us?“ Poki asks solemnly.

“Yeah, why didn’t you? We should’ve known.“ Charlie butts in the conversation as well, making you bite your lip thinking Corpse might’ve been wrong after all.

“You’re talking about the hugs, aren’t you?“ Poki asks him in a very unimpressed tone.

“Of course I am! And you’re not?“ He retorts diplomatically, causing you to wheeze out a laugh more thanks to the relief than the humor of his comment.

“Yeah so am I.“ She replies with a giggle.

“Like, imagine how much happier I’d be every morning knowing that I’ll inevitably receive a hug from Y/N one day. You should’ve told me, Y/N!“ Charlie complains.

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you find yourself smiling from the bottom of your heart after the longest time of handling the weight of knowing this would have to be dealt with sooner or later. You never thought it would be this easy. But then again, with these people, just about everything is easy.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!“ You reply defensively, while holding back a rumbling laugh of relief and pure joy. “You guys should know I’m full of surprises and expect them by now!“

“Hmm...“ Toast for a second, “Yeah, you’ve got a point.“

“No, you don’t!“ Poki says, still on Charlie’s side of the discussion, “You may be known for throwing us on loops every now and then, but you are still probably the most unpredictable person I’ve ever met.“

“I’m not sure if you mean that as a compliment but I’ll take it as one.“ You reply, quietly sniffling. You feel Corpse run a finger over your cheek and only then notice a tear had slipped your eye. A happy tear.

After a bit of the witty banter died down, you were left feeling like a whole new person. Refreshed, happier and more like yourself than you’ve felt in a long while. It was so uplifting to read Corpse’s chat as well, all the lovely comments coming in at the speed of light had you shedding a few more tears while you were at it. However, nothing could even come close to comparing to all the love and support you got from your friends. It felt like it made up for all the hardships you’ve ever been through as a result of your ailment, although you no longer see it that way really. It’s more of an obstacle that you have to jump over - an obstacle which gets lower and lower as time passes and it becomes increasingly easier to hop over it, especially when you’ve learned to jump so high.

“Ok, ok, jokes aside...” Rae’s voice takes over the VC the way the sound of a fork hitting a glass would make as a beginning to an actual speech at a dinner table, “Y/N, I speak on behalf of everyone present and every friend who failed to attend today’s stream - probably for all the viewers too - when I say that no wait is too long. Take all the time you need and don’t even think about rushing the process. You have us always, virtually and otherwise. If you ever need us, we’ll be on the road or on a plane over and that will not change regardless of whether we’ve met you before or not. We’ll be there when you want or need us, we’re always here, and you’ll forever be our friend. One day, no matter how far or near to the present, we’ll get those hugs. We’ll be patient, don’t you worry, but I’m asking you to please be patient with yourself as well.

The second you and Rae had met, you established a very strong connection that ran to a very deep level but you never thought it would run that deep down to the point of telepathy. Turns out you’re not the only one full of surprises.

“Thanks, Rae. Thank you all for being my friends and for being such wonderful people. You’re the light in so many people’s lives, including mine, and you all make this planet a better place. I cannot thank you enough.“ You say as a fresh pour of tears warms your cheeks.

Your words warm and melt the hearts of the members in the lobby as well as the ones of the viewers which are sending all types of emotions your way through the variety of emojis in Corpse’s chat.

Feeling your boyfriend’s arms tighten their hold on you, you’re reminded of his presence and feel slightly guilty that you momentarily forgot. You look down at him with glossy but smiling eyes to match the soft smile your lips have curved into.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ He asks, voice just above a whisper after he mutes his mic.

You lean down, fitting your head in the crook of his neck as his curls tickle your cheeks and forehead.

“Nope...“ You say with a small giggle, pausing for a second before tilting your head just enough to kiss his jaw, “And I have you to thank the most for everything.“

His warm lips come in contact with your forehead in a comforting kiss, “Nothing to thank me for, babe. Your happiness means the world to me. You mean the world to me.”

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science-hoes · 4 years ago

Text

Jealous

Summary: I’ve finally done it. I have written my first seggs fic. Get ready for some smut. Steve flirts with the Reader and Bruce gets super jealous.

Pairing: Bruce Banner x f!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, unprotected sex, age gap, office sex, Steve Rogers

You were balancing a cupholder of coffees in your hand when you scanned your fingerprint for access into the lab. Tony often sent you on small errands for the team since you didn’t have a real job besides being an Avenger. Tony still helped Pepper run Stark Industries, Bruce switched between guest lecturing at renowned universities and taking up patients at the hospital in the city, Clint had his workshop and taught archery at a local high school, but you…well, you were still a college student. So on days that you didn’t have more than one class, Tony had you do “secretary” things. Like get coffee.

“Coffee is here!” Tony announced when he saw you enter through the glass doors.

Bruce turned around from the whiteboard he was writing on and rolled his eyes. “Tony, quit bothering her. She needs to be studying for her classes.” He scolded.

Since Bruce decided to take up for you, you handed him his coffee first. “You mean to assume that I’m not naturally smart like you and have to study?” You asked teasingly.

Bruce took the coffee from your hands, fingers brushing against yours in the exchange. A small zap of yearning electricity charged up your arm. “You don’t need to study?” Bruce deadpanned.

Tony walked over and plucked his coffee from the cupholder that you held. “Quit trying to find a way to get rid of my coffee mule.” He nagged before taking a much needed sip from the cup. “I’ve got to go anyway, Pepper needs some help with important company things. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Don’t worry about that.” You replied as Tony left the lab.

Bruce chuckled at your comment before leaning against the table that you had perched yourself on. “So how are your classes going?” He asked.

You shrugged, swinging your legs and watching your feet. “They’re alright. Besides, I’ve got the world’s smartest Avenger to help me whenever I want.” You responded playfully.

Bruce smiled, his cheeks blushing just noticeably. Just as he was about to make a snarky remark back to you, Steve walked into the lab. You both turned as the doors opened.

“Hey, Steve!” You greeted happily.

Steve grinned at you as he walked over. “Just the girl I wanted to see.” He responded.

Bruce simply nodded in greeting at Steve before walking back over to the whiteboard to continue his calculations. That was weird. But you turned back to face the soldier.

“What can I do for you, Cap?” You asked.

Steve placed his arm on the table you sat on, leaning against the frame, which brought his body closer to yours. His dry-fit shirt was hardly of any use because the fabric sculpted the shape of every single muscle and vein underneath. But hey, you weren’t complaining. “I need you to look into a person of interest that attends your university. Possible connection to a recent string of threats going to a SWORD agent. I left the files in your room to look over when you’re ready.” He explained.

You nodded as you soaked in the information. “Yeah, I can totally do that.” You agreed with a sparkling grin.

Your smile made Steve grin in response. “Great, just let me know when you get that done. Thanks, doll.” He said before moving to head out. “Doctor Banner, make sure you watch out for this one. She’s nothing but trouble.”

Bruce never turned around, but only responded “Yes, sir.”

Steve left, and you were still grinning like an idiot. “He called me doll.” You squealed turning back to Bruce.

“Mmhmm.” Bruce curtly mumbled.

You tilted your head in confusion before hopping off the table. “What, that’s not interesting to you?” You teased, placing a hand on Bruce’s shoulder to turn him around.

Bruce met your eyes, and you stumbled backward a bit. His eyes were electric green, and the patches of green were slowly crawling up his neck to his jawline. “No, it’s not.” He growled involuntarily.

You found yourself a little turned on from the feral sound that he made when he spoke. “Doctor Banner, are you okay?” You asked, bravely taking another step forward.

Bruce closed his eyes and took in a deep breath and letting it out. The green slowly faded from his neck, and when his eyes opened again, they were the dark chocolate brown that sparkled with the lights in the room. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He answered calmly, as if nothing happened.

But you could tell he was still very aware that he couldn’t play this off like he wanted to. You took another step forward, almost closing the distance between your bodies. “What the hell was that?” You demanded.

“It was nothing.” He answered as he turned back to his whiteboard and continued scribbling.

“You almost Hulked out on Steve!” You exclaimed, grabbing him by the tie to turn him back around to you.

Bruce wasn’t expecting to be forcibly moved like that, and he stumbled so that your bodies pressed together. The feeling of his exposed forearms brushing against your hands sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers brushed against the veins that you often stared at while you visited the lab.

“I did not almost Hulk out on Steve.” Bruce defended himself, pulling his arms from your hands.

You scoffed, but then grinned and jab your finger in his chest. “You were so jealous!” You exclaimed.

And that flustered Bruce more than anything. “No, I was not.” He tried to step backward, but you grabbed his tie again to keep him close to you.

“Really? It didn’t bother you that Steve called me doll? The 1940s equivalent of sweetheart?” You pushed.

And the flare of green that radiated from Bruce’s irises gave you the answer you wanted. He didn’t say anything in defense, trying to focus his energy on suppressing his intrusive thoughts.

“What are you gonna do about it? Just let him flirt with me like that?” You teased, but in a different sense.

Bruce didn’t realize how close his face was to yours until he could feel your sweet breath on his face. He carefully lifted his glasses off his nose as his vision became clearer with green eyes. “I want to make you mine.” He growled, his voice guttural and deep.

You reached your hands inside of Bruce’s lab coat and rested them on his hips. “Show me how.” You whispered.

And that sent him over the edge. Bruce grabbed your arm and dragged you into his office. He kicked the door shut and slammed you against it, kissing your neck with an unexpected force. You moaned at the sudden contact and the wonderful feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin as he sucked. He grabbed your thighs and effortlessly lifted you around his waist. You grabbed his face from your neck and directed his lips onto yours. Your first ever taste of him. He was so savory and you couldn’t get enough of him.

You shoved his lab coat off his shoulders and began quickly working at the buttons of his shirt before discarding it as well. You ran your hands eagerly across his skin, feeling the friction from his chest hair against your fingers. Your lips only parted so you could take in his appearance, something you’ve wanted to do for so long. His blood vessels bulging from his skin were illuminating with green, but he still wasn’t changing.

“Are you going to be okay?” You asked with concern.

Bruce nodded. “I’ve got this under control. Just let me have you.” He pleaded huskily.

You granted him permission by crashing your lips against his again. He grabbed your shirt and quickly ripped it off your body. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. But you were so turned on by his force. He shoved your bra up and his mouth moved down to your breasts, sucking roughly at each nipple, with a mix of gentle biting and tugging with his teeth. Your hands were tangled in his curly hair, pushing him closer to your body when he did something you liked. While he worked magic on your chest, he hiked your skirt up and pushed your panties to the side. His large fingers carefully worked their way inside, pumping against your walls. The sounds you made only drove Bruce more crazy.

You were trembling at the pleasure he was giving you. You felt your pussy tighten around his fingers, and a white flash blinded your shut eyes as your first orgasm rolled through your body. Bruce gently kissed up your neck back to your lips and removed his fingers from inside you. You opened your eyes just enough to watch him suck your juices off his fingers. You moaned at the sight, somehow becoming more wet.

“You taste so good, baby.” He whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Bruce shifted to balance you on his knee for a moment as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his trousers down. You could see his cock pressing defiantly against his underwear, and you couldn’t wait to get your hands on it. You reached for his underwear and snatched them down. His cock sprung out, much larger than you would have ever expected. And it wasn’t even green.

“Do you think you can take it, darling?” Bruce asked you gently, brushing his fingers against your cheek.

You nodded eagerly. “Bruce, I need you.” You pleaded.

Bruce moved his hands up your thighs, positioning you above his cock. He slowly lowered you until the tip began to penetrate your pussy. You hissed from the sting as your walls were stretched.

Bruce pressed a kiss against your cheek. “Tell me what you need. Let me know when you’re ready for more.” He whispered lovingly.

The change in tone made your heart flutter. You nodded when you were ready to keep going. Slowly, Bruce lowered you until he was completely bottomed out in your pussy. He let out a shaky moan, almost a growl.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asked, refusing to move without your permission.

You nodded, digging your nails into his back. “I’m okay. Please keep going.” You begged.

And with that, Bruce pulled all the way out and slammed back into you with alarming power. You screamed at the wonderful feeling, scratching your nails down his back. Your screams only encouraged him to keep repeating the same action, emptying you completely and immediately filling you back up. But soon those thrusts became quicker and more rhythmic. He bounced you on his cock, gripping your hips tightly. Hopefully nobody opened the door to his office or else they’d be greeted with your bare ass.

It was only a matter of seconds before you felt another orgasm building up. “Bruce, I’m g-gonna come again.” You managed to say.

Bruce grunted as he felt your walls slowly tighten around him. “Gah, me too.” He buried his face in your neck, quickening his pace. “Where do you want me to come?” He asked.

You pulled him closer to you as you got closer and closer to your end. “Inside me, please. I want to feel you fill me up.” You begged.

And that was all he needed to hear. Bruce gave a few more powerful thrusts before you clenched around his cock and he coated your walls. He held you close to him, tucking your head into his shoulder as you both came down from your highs. You clung to him, taking deep breaths to calm down. Slowly he pulled out, and you felt his come drip out of you. He walked over to the couch that resided in his office and carefully laid you down on it. He grabbed the blanket that rested on top of it and wrapped it around you before sitting down as well. He lifted you into his arms and cradled your body close to him.

You noticed his eyes were back to normal and the green skin patches had vanished. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” You whispered.

Bruce chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Maybe you should’ve made me jealous sooner.” He responded.

You giggled, running your fingers through his hair. “See, I knew you were jealous.”

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x reader smut #steve rogers #tony stark #avengers #hulk smut #hulk x reader #hulk #incredible hulk

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