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akaashisbabygirl · 3 years

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the sweet smell of old books

pairings: akaashi keiji x female!reader

warnings: NSFW (18+) vaginal penetration, riding, somewhat guided mastication, oral (male receiving)

a/n: i’ve been spending my time binging moriarty lately when i haven’t had anything to do. and one of the things that’s happened to me is that i fell absolutely in love with louis. i get major louis vibes whenever i see libraries and manors which is the reason why this fic came to me :) so i tried to write one. i really hope you enjoy. it has been such a pleasure to write this. please let me know what you think<3

reblogs and likes are highly appreciated !!

keiji’s fingers slowly turned the page of the book. since picking up a random book that sat on the shelves, one that looked appealing to him, he couldn’t get his mind off of it. and before he knew it, the sun had gone down, letting time pass by until the early hours of the morning.

the time stood at about sometime near 1am. keiji was just so lost in this book that nothing else mattered to him anymore. sleep wasn’t important, food wasn’t important, all he cared about was finding out what happens next in this novel.

his back was facing the large window which elicited enough moonlight for him to see the old tan pages of the novel quite clearly. his body faced the large brown, chocolate coloured doors which led to one of the large entertainment rooms of the manor.

this home was passed on to keiji from a deceased family family. soon after, keiji called you, his loving wife in with him, and the two of you were to call this manor home. it was a large estate, several ponds and trees, room and all. keiji’s favourite part about the manor was the large library, the one where he would stay in all day and never come out of unless you, his loving wife had called him for something, such as food or bed, or even simply just wanting to be around him. he became determined to finish every single one of the books in the library, only so that when it was his final days, he could pass the home over to his future child and they could make it their goal to finish every book in the manor’s library.

another one of keiji’s favourite parts about the manors library was the large window which elicited moonlight every single night. the glass produced such a soft, loving and warm blue colour which filled up the room. he loved it.

the moonlight continued to elicit the room at this time of night. keiji heard the sound of doors creaking open. his head slowly moved up to watch the doors to the library open wide. your small figure walked in. body wrapped with a thin layer of silk blanket which you wrapped around your shoulders. under that, you were completely naked.

you slowly shut the door behind you, a smile lighting up your face as keiji folded the corner of the page, setting the book down on the table beside him. he welcomed you with open arms as you made your way to sit on his lap, blanket hiding you most intimate parts.

“what are you doing still awake, darling? shouldnt you be in bed by now?” he asked softly, warm fingertips grazing your cheek softly.

“i was waiting for you to come to bed,” you responded softly.

“sweetheart, you know that when i read these books i cannot control myself. you need some rest.”

“darling, i want to be with you,” you pouted softly, hands holding at keiji’s suit blazer, “i want to stay here with you.”

the silk cloth began to fall from your body, revealing your naked body to your husband. his fingers only toyed with the ends of the silk, pulling you closer to him as you moved to straddle his lap.

“darling, we’re you planning on sleeping naked tonight?” he asked so causally.

“the weather is too warm, my love. i felt too hot in my pyjama dress.”

you could feel the small tent growing in keiji’s pants. slowly, you moved your hips back and forth, rubbing your growing wetness on his crotch. keiji knew what you were doing - he knew how wet you were getting from these simple movements.

“oh dear, you’re going to make a mess of my pants. why don’t you be a good girl and remove my clothes for me?”

you nodded. getting off keiji’s lap, your eager hands moved his blazer from his body. you secretly hated how these many layers of clothing hid keiji’s perfect figure from your beautiful eyes, yet you understood that being a rich man, keiji had to dress the part too.

you practically ripped open keiji’s white shirt, revealing his tone chest. slowly, your hands made their way down to his belt, removing the brown band and tugging his pants down his legs, his boxers following suit. his hard cock was now in eye level with your mouth.

keiji smiled, “go ahead sweetheart, take me into that pretty mouth of yours. i want to see your pretty pink lips around my cock.”

you nodded your head, placing a soft kiss on the tip of keiji’s cock. slowly, you took a little bit of him into your mouth, taking only a few inches at a time. keiji’s hand moved to rest in your delicate, soft hair. the hair he loves to pull from time to time. he watched as you bobbed your head up and down, pretty mouth sliding up and down his shaft. groans mixed with his moans elicited from keiji’s mouth as he watched the sinful sight that sat quietly in front of him. he watched how your small hands went to pump whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. his breath became shaky, but he didn’t want to cum inside your mouth.

“play with that pretty clit of yours for me,” keiji mumbled.

he watched as one of your hands snaked down to in between your legs, fingers finding your clit almost instantly. your soft, cold fingertips ran circles on your hardened bud, letting out soft moans around keiji’s cock.

he watched in adoration as you played with your clit, your hips grinding into the wooden floorboards below.

slowly, keiji held onto your shoulders, pulling you away from his cock. you looked up at him with such adoration in your eyes, bearing that soft innocent look which you always made whenever you were desperate for him to fill you up.

“come sit back on my lap again, love.”

you followed his orders, your pussy entrance lining up with his erect cock. keiji held his hands on your hips, slowly guiding you down onto his cock. he watched as you took him fully, hands wrapping around his neck, head resting on his shoulders as he began to guide you up and down his length.

he was so big - you swear you could feel him in your stomach. keiji was so desperate to fill you up with his seed, get you pregnant, fuck a baby into you. he wanted a mini you and him, and more, eventually to have several other children that could take on the akaashi family name.

his hands on your hips dug into your skin. moans and pleads fell from your lips as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you were so lost in the pleasure of feeling keiji fill you up, fucking you in his favourite room of the manor where the moonlight lights up the room with an blue colour thanks to the large window which had a sweet view of the garden.

you love every moment with keiji - you love him. everything about him you love, everything. all his flaws and imperfections. you hated people who couldn’t see the true value of your love for him - the fact that you loved his soul and didn’t want to be with him just for the money. you wanted him and him only. and keiji felt the same way about you.

he felt your pussy clamp down tightly on his cock, a smirk appearing on his loving face, “are you going to cum dear? cum all over my cock.”

and you did - with every thrust, you climaxed around his cock. keiji kept fucking you whilst chasing his own climax. his seed poured into you. his chest heaved up and down with every breath, a smile decorating both your faces as you fell into keiji’s embrace.

he chuckled, pulling himself out of you before scooping you up in his arms, “come now darling, let’s get you to bed.”

#nsfw—🎟#haikyuu smut #akaashi smut

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lizzielikeborden · 4 years

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TUA- How You Meet

Authors Note: I am starting preferences please feel free to leave a request about what preferences you would like to see :).

(💙)

Luther Hargreeves: You were wandering around a science and space museum with a friend. You had just gotten done with the more chemistry and experiment section and decided to go sit down in the cafe with the stars overhead. It was basically just a green screen but gorgeous none the less. Around the cafe there were exhibits of the moon and planets. No one was really around due to the time being quite early. But, there did happen to be one man in front of the moon. He looked massive compared to the stand next to him that explained what that specific diagram was about, but even to the size of the moon diagram itself. From the time you got breakfast to the time you ate it he just stood there. Your friend finished their food earlier than you and had to use the restroom so you waited there. The man still hadn’t moved, you went and stood next to him not wanting to sit alone at the table.

“So, do you like the moon or all of space?” You kept eye contact with the moon diagram, not wanting to make the stranger uncomfortable.

He didn’t acknowledge you at first but then he sniffled and moved his hand under his eye across his cheek, “I guess just the moon.”

“Are you okay?” You turned toward him after hearing his voice crack and noticed how lightly swollen his face was. You felt bad that he was alone, because your food had at least taken 20 minutes and eating it was another 10 at best. So he had been there quite sometime, and he looked really upset.

“Uh yeah. I guess I am.” He smiled at you curving his lips towards mouth. He looked extremely tired and sad. But of course you didn’t know him and did not expect him to tell you his life story or even how his day was going right then. So instead you came up with the only thing you could think to do.

“Well, I know this is crazy, but you’re here alone so I assume you’ll eventually get bored of hanging out next to the moon alone. So,” You pulled out a receipt and a pen from your little bag and used your thigh as a table, “Here’s my number, call anytime.” You passed the piece of paper to him and he took it. Your friend was sitting at the table, so you waved him goodbye and went back to them.

Diego Hargreeves: You were grocery shopping really late at night. You had neglected to do that all day, but got bored enough at about 9:00 PM, an hour before the store closed to go shop. When you pulled up to the parking lot there were only four cars, most likely a cashier, a stocker, and one other shopper. You settled for getting a basket and only getting what you really needed. Usually you would be wide awake at night, but lately stress has been making you tired at random times. Not to mention staying up until unreasonable hours in the morning and then only sleeping 2-3 hours. You were leaning against one of the fridge doors next to the water and milk. You only needed some bottles of water, maybe pop, and milk to cook with. However you were falling asleep right against it. Until you heard a voice,

“Excuse me.” He opened the door you were leaning against thinking you would move. He assumed you were just leaning, not sleeping.

You felt your body move and instead of catching yourself or even being close to be able to you fell on your butt. Everything in your basket tumbled around on the floor, thought not much it looked like quite a mess. Instead of getting up to pick them up you just laid your head down on the cold tile floor.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” The man came over and looked over you, then got down on a knee and put two fingers on your neck to check your pulse.

“I’m alive, just extremely exhausted.” You looked at him with lazy eyes with heavy eyelids.

“Here.” He took your hand and you squeezed his, he helped pull you to your feet and picked up your things for you. He put them back in your basket and handed it back to you.

“I’m Diego.” Your hand was in yours again and you held it, even though it was to shake. So he shook and you followed in suit.

“I’m Y/N.” You let go of his hand and walked next to him.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I am gonna make sure you make it to your car at least.” He walked with you as you made your way to the self checkout.

“Thanks superman, I could really use it.” You giggled at him as you finished up. Then you took the pen from the container next to the checkout and wrote down your address and number down on the empty part of your receipt. Then ripped it off the bottom. Diego walked you to your car and unloaded all your groceries into the trunk of your car. Before he could leave you grabbed his hand and said,

“If you ever wanna check on me or anything else here’s how to find me or get ahold of me.”

He took the paper from your hand and smiled nodding at you. He took a step back from the car and you drove home.

Klaus Hargreeves: A groan came from behind the trash cans next to your apartment. You decided to take out the trash since the bag was ready to overflow. Though it may not have been a very smart or safe choice, you peeked around the corner. There you saw a grown man laying on the concrete, he looked pretty beat up. You took a few steps closer and noticed more bruises and blood on his skin. When you got close enough that he could see you he flinched and curled up into a ball with a groan.

“Hey, no, I’m not gonna hurt you. What happened?” You squatted down next to him and tried to coax him from his laying position that looked incredibly uncomfortable. He looked at your eyes and rolled over onto his back.

“Being sober fucking sucks.” He groaned and you reached out to give him a hand. He took it and sat up.

“I don’t think it sucks,” you chuckled, “I think whatever happened here is what sucks.”

“Hm. I guess you’re right,” he sighed and continued, “I was just walking home, no car, can’t drive. And I guess these big guys didn’t like what I was wearing because they were staring me down,” he put his hands around his eyes as if they were goggles and made his eyes big, “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking and barely grazed this guys arm. He lost it and then his buddies decided to join in.”

“Well, I can take you home or to the hospital. I have a car and I don’t think those guys will come back to break into my moving vehicle.” You stood up with his hand still in yours. He put his other hand on the ground and stood up letting you help him.

“You’d really take me home?” He let go of your hand as you walked to the parking garage.

“Yes? Of course I would. Do you want me to?” He followed behind you carefully and in pain.

You ran over and unlocked your car, then opened the passenger side door and helped him in. You buckled his seatbelt and shut the door. Then got in the drivers side and started on your way out.

“Where do you live?” You asked.

“Take like two lefts from here, go straight, and it’s the first building on the right.” He pointed and made directions with his hands.

You followed his instructions and he was dozing in and out of sleep next to you. You only lived about 15 minutes away from each other, when you arrived at his place of residency he was still asleep.

“Hi, Uh, shit I don’t know you’re name but we’re here.” You lightly shook him on his shoulder.

“My names Klaus, and thank you so much.” He took your hand and kissed it.

“I’m Y/N and you’re welcome. You know where I live and I know where you live so if you ever need me just ask for me at the front desk. I’ll be there.”

He smiled and got out of his car. As you left he turned around and waved at you as you headed home.

Ben Hargreeves: The same page hours later is where you were. You had been sitting in the back of a book store with a book you had bought trying to read it. This particular book store was quite large and had section where it was more like a library. Of course the book store was quite busy and loud with young kids picking out their first book, comic book kids freaking out over some major finds, and the people who used the computers to watch videos without headphones. With all the noise and people to look at and hear you were absolutely beyond distracted. You were about the only person in the section other than a young man with headphones on that was reading a book about a band. You were so focused on these two little kids trying to pick out books you didn’t notice someone next to you.

“Hey, we’re reading the same thing.” He spoke out, he sounded a bit nervous but kind as well.

When you broke focus and looked over at him he was still looking at you with a goofy grin on his face. You took a look at the book he was reading and the two of you were in fact reading the same thing.

“Looks like we are, I think I like your taste.” You commented back at him with a smile. He looked at you questionably,

“You think?”

“Oh well. I haven’t gotten but a few pages in, I thought this would be a great place to read considering how beautiful it is and that they sell books. But, it’s crazy everywhere here.”

“Well, if you ever want a quiet place to read, I know a good one,” he took a deep breath in, “and if you want we could read together.”

“I think i’d like that, we should hang out and read sometime, or do anything.” You spoke with a smile on your face.

“I’m Ben by the way, and if you can’t tell I don’t have many friends.” Ben was a bit awkward and clearly nervous. He had his hand in between the pages he was on and held the book that way. You could tell his hands were shaking underneath.

“I’m Y/N and I couldn’t tell at all.” You giggled at him and put a hand out for him to shake. He lifted a shaky hand and took it gently to shake.

“Not at all?”

“Maybe just a little.” You let go of his hand that you both didn’t seem to realize you still hadn’t let go.

“Here let me write down my number and uh that place I was talking about.” He looked around for a piece of paper and a pen. The longer he was taking the more red in the face he became. You took a pen out of your bag and held out your fist.

“Here just write it on my hand. I’ll write it down when I get home.” He took your hand gently and wrote down everything he said he would.

“Well, I better get home and write this somewhere it can stay.” You rose from your seat and waved him goodbye with your book that was in the same hand he had wrote on.

Five Hargreeves: 6:00 AM, a beautiful summer sun rise, and a cup of water in a coffee shop was all you needed. You had just finished writing one of the biggest papers ever and had spent all night trying to keep yourself awake. You were simply waiting for your body to crash, so you walked to the coffee shop and got a sweet treat and some water. You were the only one there, since they weren’t even open when you showed up. The bell above the door rang and the old lady who was waitressing had just started making some fresh donuts and coffee.

“It’ll be done in just a moment.” She spoke kindly and continued to her baking.

A young man dressed in what looked like a school uniform sat down next to you. He looked over and you and you returned his gaze.

“Come here often?” He asked you, he turned to face forward instead of keeping eye contact. He had a light smirk on his face and he put his hands up on the table connected together by his fingers.

“No not really, do you?” You took a sip of your water and looked forward copying him.

“Yes actually, all the time, well I used to at least. Just now getting back to being around here.” He tapped his right hand on the table, disconnecting it from the other one.

The old woman came back over and put a mug of black coffee directly in front of him. He nodded his head and thanked her, picking up his cup he sipped at the coffee.

“You drink black coffee? Just like that?” You questioned, you had never really seen anyone your age not put anything in their coffee.

“Yes.” He gestured toward his cup showing you that there was clearly nothing else in it.

“Hm. Never had it.” You drank the last of your water and sat the glass down.

“Maybe you should come around here more, I’ll get you some to try.” He said looking at you again as you rose from your seat.

“Maybe I will.” You smiled at him.

“I know you will.” He smiled back and then turned back around.

He knows I will? What? You thought to yourself after stepping outside into the warm air. You thought he was quite weird, but that was the least of it. Just wait until the day you learned his name was Five.

#luther hargreeves #luther hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves x you #diego x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves #five x reader #five imagine #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves

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imkylotrash · 3 years

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It’s An Adventure

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader

Request: You’ve been dating him for a little while and he takes you on a cute, spontaneous date since you have some time off in between heists and other jobs. Anonymous And Hi! could I have Jesper Fahey x reader with this prompt : “I would have never believed that one day we’d be so close.” And “I dreamed about kissing you.” please. Anonymous

Credit for the prompts: @swanimagines

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @shadowhuntyi @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @sanktaesperanza Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” It’s 7 am and you have absolutely no clue why Jesper is awake at this hour. Both of you went to bed much too late for 7 am to be considered a good time to get out of bed.

“Can the surprise wait?” you whine rolling over in bed but he stays persistent.

“Nope, absolutely not.” Before you can say anything else, he’s ripped the duvet away exposing you to the cold morning air. You yell out but there is no mercy. It turns out you’ll be quite happy he did wake you up. Not right now, but later when you see what he has in store for you.

“Where are we going?” you ask as he drags you through the streets of Ketterdam. Despite the early hour, it’s nice getting away from the club. It’s not that you don’t adore Kaz and Inej but it’s nice getting a little alone time with Jesper. It doesn’t come often seeing as you’re always moving on to the next heist or the next mission. Always an opportunity to earn money.

“It wouldn’t be very much of a surprise if I told you, would it now?” He squeezes your hand to let you know he’s teasing you but he keeps his lips sealed. It isn’t until you reach University District that you realize where he’s taking you.

“Jesper...” You stop dead in your tracks wishing you stayed in bed. You’ve always wanted to attend but you didn’t have the means and you definitely didn’t belong there according to most people in Ketterdam. You were meant for the streets - a fact that had been knocked into you from a very young age.

“It’s okay. Trust me,” he smiles but you stay put. “Please.” Very slowly, you put one foot in front of the other and follow him inside the university. You walk straight to Boeksplein, the heart of the university, where he heads straight for the door of one of the libraries. You look around and notice the iron gates, gargoyle statues, and the windows with stained-glass borders. All things you’ve only ever dreamt of. You can’t find architecture like that where you come from.

“Just act like you belong,” he whispers and opens the doors to the reading room. He grabs a few books and leads you to one of the long tables that haven’t been occupied by actual students.

“Fun, huh?” You know he doesn’t care much for being back here but it means the world to you. This is the kind of experience you’ve always wanted but you never would’ve dared to do on your own.

“We really have to get some studying done,” you tease him flipping to a random page in one of the books he brought over. He keeps his mouth shut and lets you enjoy the moment. Several professors pass you by but no one seems to realize that you don’t technically belong here.

“Are you finished with your studying? I’ve got another surprise.”

“This wasn’t the entire surprise?” you ask bemused. What else could he have in store for you?

“Please, you think I’d just plan a trip to the university to read? Don’t you know me at all?” he teases feigning hurt. Once again, he takes your hand and leads the way.

“Wait,” you say when you reach the courtyard. He turns around with a smile on his face reserved just for you. He raises an eyebrow waiting for you to spill the beans.

“I just... Thank you. I loved every minute of it,” you say leaning forward to kiss him. Next spot is a place you happen to know for a fact that neither of you can afford but he still drags you through the front doors as if this is every-day-life for the two of you. Geldrenner Hotel is as luxurious and gorgeous on the inside as it is on the outside. You’ve passed it many times but this is the first time you’ve been inside. You hadn’t been part of the Crows when they’d been here.

“We can’t afford this, Jesper,” you whisper looking at the people in all their fancy clothing and white pearls. He doesn’t bat an eyelash as he asks for the key to the Ketterdam Suite but you certainly do. Fast forward and you’re lying in the master bedroom and Jesper is telling you all about the bets he’s won lately to save up for this one night.

“When I first met you, I would have never believed that one day we’d be so close,” you say looking into those beautiful eyes of his. He brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face with a soft look in his eyes.

“I dreamed about kissing you. For so long, I was convinced that you’d never even look in my direction. Dreams were all I had.” It’s not often you get sappy sentimental like this but it seems fitting after the adventure he had planned for you today.

“I love you.”

#jesper fahey gif #jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey blurb #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey #sab imagine #sab gif #sab blurb #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone blurb #shadow and bone gif #shadow and bone series #shadow and bone #kaz brekker #inej ghana

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baecvlt · 4 years

Note

hi um.. this might be an odd request and ofc you dont have to do it but uh can i get a byakuya togami x reader (smut oneshot) in which the reader has a degradation kink and well, its byakuya, you can decided on the rest

The Same Deep Water as You

in which the reader is degraded by Byakuya Togami

Byakuya Togami x Reader

smut

(as stated in follow up dm) fem reader

requested by anon: first tike working with this kind of thing

warnings: degradation and slightly masochist actions to be aware of (not too severe). good ending tho so..

enjoy !

She was a quiet girl, never really spoke to anyone but Makoto and Kyoko. They weren’t so awful. While others weren’t awful, she didn’t think of them as approachable. She could talk to them, but she couldn’t be too trusting. Especially of—

“What did I tell you about looking in my direction, you cretin”

Byakuya Togami.

Makoto and Kyoko looked back at Byakuya, staring. “I wasn’t staring,” she argued,“Honestly, I wasn’t”. He approached her,“So, I’m a liar now?”. She shook her head frantically, hoping he’d go away. “Give it up, Togami,” Kyoko said,“Leave the poor girl alone. She’s having a rough day”. She looked away and put her head down on the table. “Whatever,” he said,“I’m not even half interested to know why. Just keep your distance”.

She had no idea what was wrong with him, why his cruelty shone on her and no one else. He was a dick to everyone, but most of all towards her. It was kind of starting to hurt, but mostly because being in this situation of a killing game was rather stressful. Byakuya’s unnecessary cruelty didn’t help. Still, she tried to keep a smile, if not, at least a friendly face.

“Well, Makoto and I have business to attend to with that whole next blackened bullshit. See you later. By the way, just stay out of Togami’s way. He’s a prick, it won’t do u any good to be near him. Okay?”

She nodded, taking his advice a little too literal.

She did exactly as Kyoko told her as she tried keeping a routine. She went to her room, grabbing her very little laundry. She walked to the laundry room, pusbing open the door. When she got a view of the room, she immediately turned back, for Byakuya was sitting there doing his laundry. She went to her room, set her clothes down, and waited for Byakuya to leave.

Finally, he was gone. This allowed for her to wash her clothes. After drying and folding, she decided it’d be a good idea to relax and enjoy what the school had to offer, such as the sauna. What? Who cares if this is a killing game? It was far more luxurious than anything she had in her day to day life. She has the right enjoy things. Wearing her bathing suit underneath, she walked her way to the sauna, but before that, she stripped down and put her normal clothes in a locker. Then, she was off.

As she sat in the heat, she thought to herself. All these thoughts were regarding Byakuya. It was things like “Why is he such a dick?” and “Why me? What did I do?”. They were all valid thoughts. At this point, he was treating her worse than he treats Toko. It’s got to he something he has against her. Then again, she couldn’t act like she didn’t like it. The sheer degradation of it all gave her a thrill, but Byakuya wasn’t fucking her so really he had no reason to act that way. Just as she wrapped up her thoughts, she decided it was a good time to leave before the sauna burned her skin right off. She walked right out of there. When alone, she was pretty confident about herself, her body. Its when she’s around others that she gets quiet. Judgement is a fear of hers, so she’s learned that the more you say/do, the more susceptible to judgement you are.

...but she was alone, she didnt worry.

Confidently, she walked out of the sauna. Despite the heat, it was refreshing. She opened her locker, getting her clothes out. She began to get dressed, realizing no one was around, then straight up stopped giving a fuck. She got her normal underwear on without interruptions, sliding on her pantyhose then skirt. Now it was time for her top. She took off her bikini top and replaced it with her bra. That was when she heard footsteps approaching, but they faded, so she ignored it. Putting on her long sleeve button up, her torso faced the entrance as her eyes focused on her buttons.

“Christ, screw me”

Without thinking, she replied,“Give me a time and place?”. She very slowly realized who the voice belonged to as she stopped buttoning up her shirt. Byakuya stared, she covered her mouth. “Eager, aren’t you?,” he scoffed. She finished her buttons as she walked right past him, ignoring his snide remark. That perv. Surely, he could’ve said something. He was there for a while. Was he judging her or did he like what he saw? Who knows?

What we know now is that the Togami’s raised a weirdo.

This only gave her a better reason to avoid him. Everytime she went somewhere, if she saw him there, regardless if he had seen her or not she’d walk out. Like when she wanted a snack, he was there. “Hey,” he said to her, but she was gone. This also happened in the Rec Room, where she was playing with Celeste. He walked in, looking for Makoto. Even still, and mid-game, she dismissed herself. If only there was one place where she wouldn’t have to see him. Then, she remembers she overheard Byakuya say he was in no need of the library.

She figured it’d be a good opportunity for her to go there and read something, be in solitude. She’d been there once and it was so quiet. She walked her way there, peeking first to make sure the coast was clear. She picked up a random book of poetry. It didn’t matter what book it was really, she just wanted to read. She was glad the library was unoccupied. It was quite peaceful. Unlike the sauna, it took her mind off Byakuya. God, he’d be perfect if he wasn’t a prick. Why was he so cute? So attractive? If given the chance, she would show him how she cares, but what’s it worth if he despises her for no reason? Oh, well. She had read enough pages, deciding to leave an hour later. Suddenly, she got the feeling that she wasn’t alone. She had a pretty good instinct when it came to these things.

She didn’t want to be the next victim of anything, so she ran out and hurried to her room.

Bing-bong, Bing-Bong!

Nighttime, how great. Well at least that night ended on a rather okay note, despite everything else. Just as she was headed to her bed, there was a note slipped underneath her door. It startled her, picking it up.

“Come to my room at once. Togami”

Great.

So not only did she have to endure his verbal abuse during the day, it seems it could also branch out at night. She knew she didn’t have to go, but maybe if she did as he said, he’d back off. She walked to his room, only a few doors down the hall. She knew, this was disobidience of the bed time rule, but in that moment, it was the least of her concern. She put on her clothes from earlier today, heading out. She knocked on the door, waiting for him to open the door, and it did after a few seconds. Her heart was pounding as the door opened, his blue eyes shining in the dim light. “Y/N,” he greeted casually. She noticed he still wore his suit and in no way looked like he was at all getting ready for bed. “Good evening, Mr. Togami”. She wanted to be as respectful as possible. “Come in”. She cautiously stepped in. He closed his door, going to sit on his bed afterward.

“Sit”

She sat down on his chair, still nervous. “You look so tense,” he said in a softer tone, much softer than his usual demanding tone,“Relax”. She nodded. He looked at her and got up. Walking behind her, he ran his fingers through her soft hair. “How does it feel to be the object of my lust?,” he whispered. A chill ran down her spine as she muttered,“What?”. “Do you want it?,” he asked,“Me, treating you like a stray dog, I see how it excites you. I’d be more than willing to give it to you”. Her breath hitched and her face was hot. “Y-Yes”. He raised a brow. “Use you words, Y/N,” he said, placing a hand on her throat. “Fuck me, please,” she groaned, craving him. That was enough for him to start putting her on edge. He wanted her to beg, he loved to hear it. “How long has it been since you’ve been touched this way”.

“Too long”

His hands reached for her breasts, teasing them as he kissed her neck. “Oh my god!,” she cried. Her legs spread and he took note of this. “Go to bed,” he ordered,“I want you on your back”. She didn’t hesitate. She leapt to his bed and lay down. He immediately followed, hovering over her. He pinned her wrists down and began kissing her skillfully. She couldn’t help, but bite him and him flinching further increased her excitement. “What the hell?,” he cursed, she smirked. It angered him that she was having fun with this. He pulled off her skirt and ripped open her pantyhose, spreading her legs. “From now on, you are to call me master and nothing else,” he told her, moving her panties aside and licking her pussy. His tongue focused on her clit, but god, it felt good. She whined, reaching for his hair. While she was able to pull it a little, he grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her down again. His tongue began focusing on all other parts of her, rolling his thumb on her clit, softly. All she could do was squirm, but even that was hard to do. “Who’s pussy is this?,” he asked.

“Yours, master”

“That’s my girl”

She was cumming, practically dripping the more he touched her. He let go of her wrists, allowing her to finally tease her breasts and play with his hair as he ate her out. He loved her taste; she was sweet. Without moving his mouth away, he carefully worked two fingers into her, allowing him to taste her even more. “How’s that making my little slut feel?,” he asked. “Really, really good. Please, m-master,” she whined, but other than that, it was all incoherent babbling. She was frantic at that point.

“Look at you,” he whispered as his mouth was really going into it,“You’re making quite the mess, you know?”. “I know, master”. Her apologetic tone begged a question. “Come here,” he ordered. She sat on the balls of her feet, waiting for his next words. His hand was soft as he put it on her cheek, caressing her.

“Has my little slut had enough?”

She shook her head, muttering,“I want more”. Her lust-filled eyes stared into his as she went for his belt buckle. “Not like this,” he said, sitting down properly. “Okay,” he assured,“Come here, doll”. She went for his belt buckle and undid it. Carefully, she took his cock out, spitting. “Master, you’re aching”. He twitched as she stroked his sex with those words falling from her mouth. His stomach sank as feeling of her hands touching him this way dawned on him. He needed her, so bad.

“Bend over for me”

Her stomach lay flag on the bed as her ass was in the air, waiting for him to fuck her. “Shit,” he exclaimed, that was the first time she’d hear him cuss. “What’s wrong?”. He sighed.

“I don’t have any protection on me”

Thats when she reached into her shirt and bra, handing him a condom. “What the hell? How long did you have that in there?”. “No more questions,” she said softly,“Come on, baby”. Slowly, he teased her entrance, rubbing his cock slowly and making her shiver before grabbing her hips, slamming into her. Upon impact, her pussy spasmed around his cock as she reached for the pillow in front of her. He gasped, his fingers digging into her soft skin. “I’m gonna stretch you out”. She whined into the pillow as he repeated that, slowly at first. As much as he wanted to pound into her, he knew knew if he did that, he wouldn’t last long. “Ah! master, that feels really good,” she cried,“I need more.. please!”. He could barely speak. “I go at whatever pace I want, slut!,” he managed.

“M-Master, is it because you know you’ll cum fast if you do? Even thinking about pounding me makes you go slower than you already are, doesn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

His hand slammed onto her ass. She winced, gripping the sheets as he picked up the pace. Her eyes then rolled back. “Is this what you wanted?,” he said with gritted teeth. She let out a shaky cry and said,“Master, it’s what I needed”. A mirror was in front of them, Byakuya using it to check how she reacted to certain things. Letting him hit all around her walls drove her insane, but he still wasn’t going so hard. She also used the mirror to her advantage. She saw how he was struggling to fuck her hard without cumming. She wanted to mess around too. She smiled with lustful eyes, putting two fingers in her mouth and drooling over them. “What the hell”. Her playfulness left him flustered. He grabbed and held her up by her hair and slammed into her repeatedly.

“Oh, master, don’t ever stop! Please, don’t stop!”

He held her up with his hands on her breasts, kissing her neck. Her stomach went crazy, finding new ways to make her sick every time he hit her sweet spots. He had no problem finding them, he must have them memorized by now. There was about her, something so fucking intoxicating. She was like a drug and he was addicted. At first, he despised her for it, but soon enough, he started love her for it and that was scary. It all hit him when he saw how this woman devoted herself to him, even before fucking. She always respected him and saw him for other than money or looks. Immediately, guilt struck him.

That’s when he wanted to take things slower and actually look at her as they fucked. He sat up as she straddled his lap, riding his cock slowly, rhythmically almost as they kissed. Their kisses were much more passionate. His lips let her win, allowing her to kiss him sweetly. His hands held her back, hers wrapped around his neck while one played with his hair and it all felt right. Melting onto one another, he admired her eyes and how satisfied she appeared to be and how angelic her face was when he hit just the right spots. They spoke in between kisses. “Master-”. He shushed her, softly, rather than abruptly. “You don’t need to call me that now,” he whispered as he caressed her cheek.

“Byakuya, fuck, I love you”

“I love you too; all of you,” he muttered, maneuvering her hips in a way that made her groan. She rolled her hips down and tightened around him. That was when he realized that he could no longer continue. “I think I’m-”, he grunted and gasped, digging his head into her chest. “Did you cum?,” she asked, Byakuya nodding. His head suddenly peeked up. He was flustered and asked,“Did you really mean all that? You love me?”. He spat the word as if it sickened him. She nodded and played with his hair.

“I knew you’d mock me for it. Falling in love during the killing game? Pathetic”

“So... am I also pathetic?”

“No, what?”

“I said it too. Does that make me pathetic?”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered,“Of course not”. There was a moment of silence between the two, where they just lay there and waited till someone said something. “I’m gonna head to my room,” she said. He nodded, although deep down, he protested and wanted to ask her to stay. He couldn’t do that, though. So there, he watched her get dress and leave the room with a funny walk.

The next morning, she got dressed and on her way to meet with the others. Upon opening her door, she was greeted by Byakuya. “Oh, good morning, Togami,” she said,“I didn’t expect to see you-”. He suddenly kissed her, taking her by surprise. “I love you and I want you to be mine,” he blurted. It shocked her even more since this was extremely out of character for him. “What?”. He held her hands. “Ever since we made love the other night, it’s been impossible for me to stop thinking of you”. People stopped at the door, staring because for some reason he heavily emphasized that fact. “You what?,” Kyoko asked. Byakuya stood in front of her to block her.

“Come on, Y/N”

There was a twinkle in his eyes as he asked for your hand (in a way). He loves you? It was hard to believe, but the more you thought about it, the more it felt right. What are you to say?

#danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #byakuya togami #byakuya togami smut #byakuya togami x reader #dr byakuya #x reader #smut

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honestlyfrance · 3 years

Text

It Rains Every April 10th

ship: sam/bucky

warning: grief, depression, mcd, hurt/comfort

summary:

"I love you, baby," Sam had spoken, three words so sweetly spoken, an angel could've said it, and Bucky wouldn't mind if that meant that he had crossed to the other side and reached heaven, because it was Sam Wilson.

Bucky had twirled Sam once, the two of them sharing a laugh before he pulled the man closer by the waist. "I love you too, honey," he replied, making sure to put in much eye contact, to let his own eyes send the message his heart failed to say.

A sneak peek in the life of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson to know the real reason why they think April 10 was a bad date.

—■—■—

Depression hits like a wave on a cliffside — sometimes you see it coming, sometimes you didn’t see it, and sometimes you just let it happen. It sometimes gnaws at your skin, always there, but more of a ghostly hand hovering over you; there’s that presence but you think you don’t have enough proof to prove it existed. Times like these you try your best to move but you become unmotivated, absolutely immobile except for the moments your body decides to exhaust itself for unrelated things you shouldn’t be doing. It takes a toll on you you wouldn’t even realize, and even then, who else realized it? You’re just tired. You don’t cry. You’re just tired.

It’s moments before dawn that the rain began to pick up, basking the entire scenery in a state of loneliness and tranquility, and it made everything more silent than before. Birds weren’t chirping, and all anyone could hear was the deafening downpour outside their windows. The bedroom is blanketed in blue lighting from the grey clouds outside, and the rain slips down the French windows and the slanting skylight. Bucky Barnes laid in bed, staring solemnly towards his windows with disdain, buried under his duvets. There are bags under his eyes, but they’re almost faint, and there’s a red tinge to his eyes, but he doesn’t feel discomfort from it; he felt as if whole, if anything. He’s just tired.

Bucky lets his eyes flutter shut, grunting as he buried himself deeper into the sheets, pulling his pillows to envelop every side of his body: his back, his chest, his head, his feet. He wanted warmth. It was too early to wake up. The faint smell of something icky wafted through the cold air and suddenly, all Bucky could think of was how slow time had passed by — he woke up before two in the morning, but his body felt as if it was midnight. It was dawn now, and he still hasn’t sat up. He rose and went, his consciousness blanking ever so often, and all he could think of was how numbed he was to the point that he couldn’t remember how many times he slept and woke up.

Bucky sat down in his tub, the cool but refreshing water pouring from the faucet. The bathroom was dim-lit and the orange lights bounced off of every reflective surface in the room. Here he sighed, watching the excess water go into the side drain, setting his head on the side of the tub. All he could ever hear was the sound of gushing water and the ache of his own heart, and there's that dread of going downstairs and actually living.

His dog suddenly pitter-pattered through the open door, suddenly sitting by the side of the tub. Bucky lazily looked back at the golden retriever. His eyes were barely opened as he spoke, “Roger, go back outside…” His voice was gruff and worn down, like a path down memory lane; so distant and faded that even the memory couldn’t recognize itself.

Bucky turned his head back towards the ceiling, and with a heavy sigh, he grabbed the tub by the side with his one hand and slid himself with a strong push, he lowered himself under the water, and there he felt free. There was nothing waiting for him down there and there was nothing worried for him down there. All he had in that tub was himself and his thoughts, and all his thoughts said to him was, “It’s April 10. You need to wake up.”

He needed to wake up.

Breakfast was quiet, and with every long drawn-out bite of his cereal was a much longer painful dread in Bucky’s chest, one that swallowed in itself for centuries before and centuries more. It’s a sickening twist to the plot and there’s nothing more emptying than feeling drowsy from one’s own solemn adventure. The outdoor lights filtered through the drawn open blinds and there they go, dancing on tabletops and the clean dishes left on the open sink like ballerinas, and there’s a piece of accompanying music that was dulled to a filtered flute of wind by the rain; water dripped against the windows and made the room look bluer than before, and the white walls seem to close in on Bucky, but he just kept on eating in his bathrobe, his one leg propped up on another chair as Roger sat on his hind legs beside him.

Bucky sighed with his mouth full as he waved his dog off. Roger goes dashing through the open doorway and into the other which led to the expansive library. Bucky didn’t want to look out into the window and see how beautiful the morning was, now that there was something so elegant to see when the whole world just drained itself out of color, and it all seemed unfair — a misuse of justice. Roger brought in a book, and Bucky couldn’t even look at the cover. The Masque Of The Red Death. His hands gripped the pocketbook, his mind fuming and his lips searing at the seams; he fumbled with the book and his muffled sobs, and he suddenly thrashed — he threw the book across the room, successfully breaking another picture frame that was hung on the opposite wall. Roger whimpered and set his head on Bucky's stomach, pawing at his hands until all Bucky gripped was the dog’s coat, gently and softly, feeling his heart squeezed out of life but he’s lightheaded. He’s not better now, but he feels like he could be.

Bucky whispered something to Roger's ear and he pets him, even gave him an extra treat.

It’s an unmistakable kind of brokenness that is almost like a “tell,” you know something is wrong, but they don’t fess up to it. Ending up with a game of cat and mouse, and both of you are chasing each other's tail, not knowing who is the culprit and the victim; both of you victimized yourselves because it was the only solution left. You weep at the mess you’ve made and that’s all that you can do. It’s all anyone’s ever done these days, and you shouldn’t apologize for it.

People should start screaming from the top of their rooftops and get that anger out of them, find a victim to mesmerize, and leave them for dead or nothing. Bucky wanted to drive off to the nearest cliff and scream his guts out, vomit his spine out, and just gouge his eyes out, because in a world where the skies seem bleaker — it wasn’t a world. It sounded like a page ripped off of the book of legends, burnt to a crisp, never to be seen again, and Bucky had hoped he would never see it, but then again, here he lies, almost dead and unhinged, mesmerized by the beauty of death to the point that he’d let her sleep in his room for the night.

Bucky would let death spend the night and pick at his skin, peeling it off of him like some sadist, wear his skin, even — let him have a bit of life, even if he was a puppet. There’s nothing more shameful than thinking of such atrocities, yet what other choice does he have? He couldn’t handle it anymore. He was pained, mourning, and helpless. If an angel went down from the skies and told him to jump off a cliff, Bucky would jump off a bridge; if a second angel came down and told him to get lost at sea, Bucky would get lost in a swamp; if a third angel came down for him and told him to suck a dick, Bucky would suck a shoe. Bucky thought he didn’t deserve the gentleness of suffering, so he let himself hurt worse than what was anticipated. So, he lost his leg, had another prosthetic, then he’d lost his sanity.

Out on the couch at the back porch that overlooked the vast fields of his property, he could feel the tiniest of pinpricks of rain whipping him in his face if it was not for the wall of crawling vines dangling from his rooftop. He set his foot on the coffee table, and right beside him was Roger, resting his head on Bucky’s lap. Bucky’s hand ran through his dog’s fur as he read another random chapter of Pride and Prejudice. He couldn’t say. He didn’t even notice. He’s been so out of it, he wouldn’t even realize the title of the book until he’d put it back into the bookshelf. Bucky’s mind had been empty except for anxious thoughts that he had become numb with the idea of surprises. He left his phone buried in the backyard because he didn’t want any unexpected calls.

His hands were calloused over the years of stressful work, eventually leaving him with thin and rugged fingers that feel pinpricks almost every second. His hands were once a thing of beauty, and ever since the accident, he couldn’t think much of it. All Bucky now wanted was to decay faster, to lie down on the grass, and feel moss crawl on his skin and declare himself one with the earth. Now that would be a thing of beauty.

His breath was slow and steady, turning into nothingness a few seconds here and then. Holding onto his breath was the only thing he knew he could hold onto and never let go of. It was the only thing he remembered to be tangible. It didn't use to be like this. Then again, April 10 didn't exist back then.

Sam Wilson would walk into the back porch right now, holding two mugs of hot chocolate, because he adored the rain with his whole heart, and as much he loved nature, that's how much he loved Bucky Barnes. Sam would now then sit right beside his husband and they'll stay snuggled together, bare legs intertwined together, and they'd be giggling like children at the warmth in their chests.

"Look, baby," Sam had said, pecking a quick kiss on Bucky's lips. Bucky's eyes would be overcome with stars that he'd become dizzy at the sensation, "Rain. Do you think it'll rain all day? The weatherman said only a 30% chance,"

Bucky had hummed into Sam's cheek, feeling the way Sam's skin tasted right on his lips. Bucky's mouth would trace the edges of Sam's jaw and the man would let him do more. "Maybe. Perhaps," he had breathed out, "Do you want to stay like this forever?"

Sam had laughed into Bucky's mouth, leaving another kiss that lasted a second longer now. It was sweet, and there were stars dispersing in their hearts. "What else am I going to do all day?"

They had spent the whole day like this: sneaking kisses like teenagers and sipping on hot chocolate like children. Their hearts grew as the rain poured stronger. The pitter-patter of downpour had drummed against their roof like bullets and all they could feel is how safe they were in the war with each other's arms wrapped around each other. It was their own kind of shield, and it was perfect .

That kind of day was now replaced with Bucky and Roger. Bucky would read a random book as Roger would look out into the backyard, longing to run around the rain, but Bucky needed Roger right beside him, and that's what the dog shall do.

READ MORE ON AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winterfalcon #france: works #france: writing #onlysambucky #sambuckyfic

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demi-shoggoth · 3 years

Text

2021 Reading Log, pt 12

55a. Smells by Robert Muchembled, translated by Susan Pickford. The library system picked this out when I put a reserve on Nose Dive: A Field Guide to the World’s Scents, and it’s been in queue through holds for six months or more. Hoo boy was it not worth it. This is the only book I’ve started this year I might recommend to people who want to read a bad book. I have too many things from the library to want to spend more time with this than the 40 pages that I invested, but it is a trip. The thesis of the book is that in Early Modern Europe, the smell of feces was seen as neutral, or even erotic, until the Counter-Reformation made the human body sinful. And something something miasma theory. It is a bonkers claim, made all the more apparent by how little evidence the author has. Most of his “evidence” is either willful misinterpretations or just plain invented, and his timeline doesn’t even work in the context of his own claims. The book comes across as a scat fetishist trying to justify their kink through historical precedent. This makes it wild that this book was originally written in French. To write a terrible book is a common enough accomplishment, but to ensure that it gets translated and published in multiple languages is a special act of hubris.

56. Metazoa by Peter Godfrey-Smith. This book bridges the gap between biology and philosophy of science, which is not territory I often enter. Appropriately for such a heady book, it is about the evolution of the mind, and the mind-body problem as a whole. Godfrey-Smith’s claim is a gradualist, materialist one; the mind evolved as animals evolved, and that multiple branches of the animal family tree have arisen in experience-having life. I am comfortable with saying that animals are capable of some form of consciousness, and the idea that consciousness is a spectrum rather than an on/off condition appeals to me. One thing that struck me as unusual based on my background is that there’s a word for how animals perceive the world—umvelt—that the author never uses, even though he uses plenty of other terminology. Perhaps he has philosophical beef with the creators of that concept, but he makes reference to plenty of other positions he disagrees with in whole or in part. Maybe as a philosopher first and biologist second, he’s unaware of some of the other people who have tread down this path from the biology side.

57. Testosterone Rex by Cordelia Fine. This book came to me as a result of following bibliography trails—it is cited several times in Phallacy. Which makes sense, as they’re both feminist evolutionary biology books with an axe to grind against the entrenched sexism of “evolutionary psychology”. Fine focuses primarily on human behavior, and does a lot of legwork to demonstrate that testosterone is not the be-all and end-all of shaping human behavior, and that the concept of a “male brain” and “female brain” is a gross oversimplification at best and an outright fabrication at worst. Plus, it’s very funny, and a breezy read.

58. The Zoologist’s Guide to the Galaxy by Arik Kershenbaum. I wasn’t super keen on this book for the first chapter or two, but it grew on me, and I ended up enjoying it quite a bit. The premise skips a lot of the usual exobiology to focus on, “if we do find complex life on other planets, what would it be like?” Which is really just a way of discussing some universals of Earth’s evolution and using aliens to sell it to a wider audience. Kershenbaum does a good job of simplifying difficult topics like kin selection and game theory for a lay audience. The book actually ended up overlapping a lot with Metazoa, talking about the importance of senses, movement, communication to animal life. Unlike some other popular science authors who use science fiction as a rhetorical device, Kershenbaum seems to actually like and understand it. In addition to the usual reference drops of little green men and Star Trek, he talks a lot about Fred Hoyle’s The Black Cloud, the proto-gray-goo story “Crabs on the Island” and other relatively deep cuts.

59. The Incredible Journey of Plants by Stefano Mancuso, translated by Gregory Conti. Pleasant enough, I guess. But very short. This book is about plant dispersal and survival, how they are able to manipulate animals and ride the wind and waves to travel around the world. Most of the book is short anecdotes about specific species, or even individuals. I don’t get the illustrations, though. The book is full of watercolors by Grisha Fischer, of maps where the landmasses are leaves or stems and the place names are all those of plants, seemingly picked at random. They have nothing to do with the text, and only seem to pad out an already short book.

60. Ripped from the Headlines! by Harold Schechter. This is a series of short true crime stories, all of which inspired or were adapted into movies. There is some fat-phobic and transphobic language, which is unpleasant, but it is otherwise a pleasant read. Albeit about very unpleasant material. Schechter is one of the less prurient true crime writers out there, covering the details of the cases without wallowing in atrocity. One thing I found amusing is that the book is blithely unafraid to spoil any and all of the movies it covers, except for two. Only Murder on the Orient Express and Scream have their endings unexposed.

#reading log #bad books #true crime #evolution #biology

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you-didnt-see-that-cuming · 4 years

Text

All The Things She Said | Hermione Granger x Reader Part One

Summary: Y/N has had a crush on Hermione for as long as she could remember. She often spent class periods thinking about her or sneaking glances in Potions when Snape wasn’t looking, but that all changed in their sixth year when Slughorn became the new Potions professor. And luckily for her, things changed for the better.

Warnings: No warnings yet!

Word Count: 3,096

A/N: I’m on a Harry Potter binge right now so here is some wlw Hermione for y’all, enjoy!

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Being in Slughorn’s potions class held several positives. Firstly, he wasn’t Snape, secondly, each class session was filled with far more interesting potions than they had been in the preceding years, and thirdly, Y/N shared the class with Hermione.

Slytherins and Gryffindors had always shared Potions together, and the two had occasionally been paired together, but now that Potions was no longer a required subject and the class size had diminished significantly, it gave Y/N the opportunity to sneak longer glances at Hermione than she had been able to before.

She couldn’t believe her luck when Slughorn announced that they were to have assigned seats and partners for the remainder of the term and that she had been paired with Hermione in the front of the class.

Hermione hadn’t spoken to her very much during that first class period, which wasn’t wholly unexpected since Y/N was a Slytherin and the rivalry between the two houses was more intense than any other in the school.

Y/N had also managed to get herself invited into the Slugclub, which could sometimes get a little pretentious, but it was bearable enough. She got to see Hermione on those evenings.

Hermione was sitting on the lawn near the banks of the Black Lake under a willow tree when Y/N found her. She was in the middle of a book and was chewing mindlessly on an apple, not even noticing when Y/N approached her. It took clearing her throat to finally get Hermione’s attention.

“Um, hey Hermione,” Y/N said nervously. Her hands were cold and sweaty now.

“Hi Y/N. Uh, is there anything I can help you with?” Hermione looked a little confused but still had a polite smile on her face.

Y/N took a deep breath and shoved her hands into her pockets, scrunching them into fists to keep them from shaking.

“Uh, I was wondering if you could help me with some of the Potions assignments? I’m having trouble understanding the theories and Slughorn said that you had the best marks in the class.” That was a lie, Y/N hadn’t spoken to Slughorn at all. It didn’t take a conversation with a professor to know that Hermione Granger was the smartest witch in their year, if not the entire school.

Hermione blinked at Y/N, her cheeks flushing pink. Y/N was trying to decipher whether it was because of the idea of Slughorn complimenting her or perhaps the idea of tutoring another student.

“Oh! Um, I guess I could help you with some stuff. We’re partners now, aren’t we? She gave a friendly smile. Y/N was surprised by how quickly she agreed.

“Great!” Y/N paused awkwardly. “Do you want to meet tomorrow afternoon in the library? Maybe around 1:00?”

Hermione nodded.

“I’ll see you then, make sure to bring your Potions textbook.”

Y/N gave a stiff bowing nod, an embarrassed smile upon her face.

“Thanks! See you then!” Y/N quickly turned and began marching back up the path to Hogwarts. She finally took a deep breath and the shaking of her hands began to subside. She looked up from the ground and saw Harry and Ron carefully running down the path, trying not to stumble over loose rocks. They acknowledged her by nodding their heads when they passed her and continued down to Hermione who was still sitting underneath the tree reading.

At least now they had something to talk about in Potions. The only problem was that Y/N wasn’t having trouble with Potions theories, in fact, she was doing very well and had received full marks on almost every assignment Slughorn had given them. All she had to do now was find something to pretend to struggle with. Easy enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry and Ron bustled past Y/N on the path leading from Hogwarts and stopped at the foot of the willow tree, panting lightly and looking slightly disheveled. Hermione looked up at them, an eyebrow raised, and a confused smile on her face.

“What’s the rush with you two?” she asked, placing a bookmark in between the pages of her book and closing it.

“What were you talking to Y/N for?” Harry asked, loosening his tie as he moved to sit down next to Hermione.

“She was asking for some help with Potions, I’m going to start tutoring her tomorrow.”

Ron balked at Hermione’s answer.

“Are you mad?! She’s a Slytherin who’s probably all buddy-buddy with Draco! How do you know she isn’t just trying to get you alone to hex you?”

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Oh please, I’ll be fine. If you’re really that worried, you can come to the library at 1:00. You can hide behind the bookshelves looking out for hexes or whatever else it is that you’re worried about.”

Ron grunted. He didn’t seem very happy. Harry looked slightly less disgruntled but still had a slight concerned expression on his face.

“Well alright then, but I still don’t trust her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N woke up the next morning slightly disoriented after the dream she had just had. She had been awakened by the banging of the dormitory door as Pansy Parkinson rushed in. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and tried to burn the dream into her mind before she forgot. But all she could remember from the dream was the warm, smiling face of Hermione.

“I cannot believe Draco!” Pansy shouted as she stormed around the dormitory. She had a toothbrush in hand and some foaming toothpaste at the corner of her mouth. She was dressed in some silver silk pajamas and her short hair was pulled into small pigtails.

Y/N sighed, accepting the fact that her dream would not come back to her. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and pushed her hair out of her face, squinting in exhaustion.

“What has he done now?” She asked, her eyes following Pansy as she bustled around the room.

“He threw all of my clothing down the laundry chute and I had to go to breakfast in my pajamas, I looked ridiculous.” Pansy huffed. She paused for a moment, looking at Y/N.

“You should probably hurry and get ready, didn’t you say that you were meeting up with someone at 1:00?”

Y/N rubber her eyes and pushed herself up into a proper sitting position.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, it’s almost 12:45.”

Y/N suddenly felt very awake. She ripped the covers off her bed and darted to her trunk.

“Oh my god, I’m not going to have time to eat! What do I wear?!” She started rifling through her trunk, trying to find something that would be suitable.

“Don’t worry about the food, I brought you a cranberry muffin from the Great Hall. Who are you meeting with anyway?” Pansy said casually, throwing herself onto her bed.

“It doesn’t matter! But I really like this person so I want to impress them but I don’t want to look overdressed.”

Pansy raised an eyebrow. She was quiet for a moment before she pushed herself off her bed and pushed Y/N away from her trunk. She started digging until she pulled out an emerald green sweater and a pair of light wash jeans.

“Here, wear this. The green brings out your eyes. You should also wear that headband you got in Hogsmead.”

Y/N gave Pansy a look of stressed gratitude and hurried to get dressed, almost tripping over her own feet as she pulled the jeans on. If there was one thing Pansy was especially good at, it was keeping herself calm and collected in moments of panic. This was most definitely a moment of panic.

Just before Y/N pulled the sweater over her head, Pansy shoved half of the muffin into her mouth. She chewed as fast as she could, grabbing a random pair of rolled socks from her trunk and pulling them on.

Once Y/N had started pulling on a pair of heavy black boots, Pansy shoved the remaining half into Y/N’s awaiting open mouth and grabbed a hairbrush from their shared vanity while Y/N finished chewing. The moment she began brushing her teeth, Pansy started brushing her hair and pulling it back into a headband. Pansy’s hands worked quickly and efficiently, ensuring that Y/N’s hair looked glossy and full of volume. The two worked together like a well-oiled machine, forging their way through the chaos that had become their dormitory.

“Okay, I say only use a little bit of mascara and some lipgloss, you don’t want to look too done up.” Pansy shoved a tube of lipgloss into Y/N’s back pocket after she had rinsed her mouth and handed her leather satchel to her as Y/N quickly swiped the mascara onto her eyelashes.

“Go, you have 5 minutes! Good luck!” Pansy shouted, pushing Y/N out of the door, running after her down the staircase into the Slytherin common room.

“Coming through!” Pansy roared as they barreled through the common room, “She’s late for a date!”

Y/N didn’t have time to scold Pansy as some first years scattered out of the way. She burst through the entrance to the common room and sprinted up the staircases to the library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once she had reached the entrance to the library, she was panting loudly and sweating a little. The clock over the archway signaled that she had just about a minute to spare. Taking deep breaths to regulate her breathing and try to cool herself down, she began to fix her hair and quickly applied to lipgloss to the center of her lips. She turned to the portraits on the wall and stretched her arms out.

“Well? How do I look?”

Some of the portraits shouted their comments at her.

“Where are your robes, girl? You look ridiculous!”

“You look wonderful!”

“Straighten up! You’re slouching like a troll!”

She took one final deep breath and entered the library. She spotted Hermione setting her things down at a table in the center of the room and her heart started pounding. With every step Y/N took towards the table, the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears intensified until it had swelled to a loud roaring. As she approached the table, Hermione looked up from the books she had been taking out of her bag and smiled.

“Hey! You ready to get started? I thought we might begin with Potions theories.”

Y/N swallowed and put a smile on her face.

“Yeah, that sounds good!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron and Harry were both hiding behind a bookshelf within earshot of the table where Hermione and Y/N were sitting, looking through the gaps between books to keep an eye on them. Ron had taken Hermione’s offer very seriously, he didn’t trust anyone who was a Slytherin.

“Ow! Stop shoving your elbow into me, I can’t see if you’re pushing me,” Harry complained, rubbing his side where Ron’s sharp elbow had found its mark.

“Oops, sorry,” Ron muttered, distracted.

“What are we doing here? I’m sure it will be fine, Hermione can take care of herself. Besides, we could be in Hogsmeade by now.” Harry complained.

“Give it a few minutes, will you?” Ron hissed.

“Oh please, it’s not like she’s going to hex Hermione in the middle of the library.”

“Who is going to hex Hermione?” A voice said from behind them. The voice belonged to Ginny Weasley, who was holding a stack of books at the other end of the bookshelf.

“Blimey Ginny! Don’t you ever make noise when you move?” Ron said, clutching his chest in surprise. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Like I said, who is hexing Hermione?”

“Um, no one is hexing Hermione. He thinks Y/N is up to something though.” Harry responded.

“Y/N, the girl from Slytherin? But she’s so nice!” Ginny had a surprised look on her face.

Ron rolled his eyes at Ginny’s comment.

“That’s exactly what she wants everyone to think!”

“Oh Ron, now you’re being ridiculous! Leave the poor girl alone, it’s not fair of you to target her just because she’s a Slytherin.” Ginny huffed. She now seemed frustrated with Ron. Harry silently agreed with Ginny, Ron was being a bit ridiculous.

Ron groaned, seeming equally as frustrated as Ginny.

“Fine, we’ll leave it alone for now.” He grumbled, turning away and starting to walk towards the exit of the library.

“Wait does that mean that we can go down to Hogsmeade now?” Harry called after him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you can use a bezoar as an antidote to poisons?” Y/N questioned. She already knew the answer, but she just wanted to hear Hermione’s voice again.

“Well, it works for most poisons, one that it doesn’t help with is basilisk venom, only phoenix tears will heal that.”

Hermione looked up from the table and to the clock that was hanging towards the front of the library. The sky had turned a dark blue since they had first started reviewing together and it was almost time for dinner in the Great Hall.

“Blimey! Is that the time? We better head down to the Great Hall now if we want to make dinner.” Hermione began packing her books into her bag and Y/N did the same.

“Thank you, by the way, for helping me with all of this. Hopefully I can keep up with you now!” Y/N joked as she placed her last notebook into her bag.

Now it was Hermione who gave a shy and nervous smile. A blush had formed across her cheeks.

“Um, y-yeah! Of course, no worries.” She paused for a moment, like she was debating on whether or not she should say something else. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Um, would you like to do this again sometime? Studying, I mean.”

Y/N had to force herself not to smile as much as she wanted.

“I would love to, do you want to meet up on Wednesday? We can study in the courtyard after lunch, if that’s alright?”

“Sounds good! Do you, uh, want to walk down to the Great Hall together then?

Y/N smiled and nodded in response and the two set off for dinner. They had been up in the library for so long that even the librarian, Madam Pince, had fallen asleep waiting for them to leave. It was nearing 6:00 and as they descended the staircases, the smell of food grew more distinct and the hum of voices grew louder.

Once they had reached the entrance to the Great Hall, the two girls turned to face each other.

“Well, I guess this is where we leave each other,” Hermione said, rocking on the balls of her feet.

“I suppose so.”

There was an awkward silence for a few moments before Hermione broke the tension.

“Well! I’ll see you on Wednesday then!” She said in an overly-enthusiastic tone.

“Yup! See you then!”

The two girls parted ways and headed towards their respective tables. As Y/N began sitting down, Pansy grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down quickly.

“The person you were meeting was Hermione Granger?!” Pansy hissed quietly so that Draco or his friends wouldn’t hear.

Y/N blushed furiously and glanced at Hermione who was currently in the middle of a conversation with Ginny Weasley.

“We were having a study session together, we’re partners in Potions you know.”

“But you said-!” Pansy had started raising her voice before she caught herself, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper. “You said that you were meeting up with someone who you really liked and wanted to impress!”

“Well, I do like her, and I did want to impress her.” Maybe if she pretended that there was nothing wrong with what she just said, everything would return back to normal. She began loading her plate with some of the roast duck that had appeared on the platter in front of her. However, this did nothing of the sort. In fact, it only succeeded in making Pansy look like she was having a heart attack. She looked scandalized, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“Are you serious? Of all the people you could have chosen to fancy, you chose Granger?!”

Draco was looking curiously at the two girls now. Apparently, Pansy’s reaction had gotten his attention.

“You alright Pansy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.” He said, leaning forward to talk to her.

She shook her head and turned to respond to Draco.

“I’m fine, no worries here!” She gave a forced laugh before she turned back to Y/N.

“Fine, I can get over you liking Granger, but you can’t tell Draco about this, he would never let you live it down.”

“Trust me, I know. I’m not exactly keen on him finding out either.”

The two girls ate their dinner, distracting themselves by talking about their next trip to Hogsmeade and the upcoming Winter recess. Pansy and her family were going to go on holiday to France to visit some family. Y/N hadn’t decided yet if she was going to go home or stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. They continued talking until the plates had been cleared and Dumbledore stood to give a few, final words before dismissing everyone back to their respective dormitories.

As everyone began filing out of the Great Hall, Y/N passed by Hermione and the two girls made eye contact. They smiled subtly at one another before parting ways, Hermione going back up to Gryffindor Tower with Ron and Harry, and Y/N descending down to the dungeons to the Slytherin common room with Pansy, who had looped her arm around Y/N’s.

All in all, it had been a good day. She hadn’t really learned anything new today, but she had gotten to spend some more time talking to Hermione, which was something that they didn’t often do in Potions.

When Y/N and Pansy had finally reached their dormitories, Y/N was smiling. She and Pansy began getting ready for bed, changing into comfortable pajamas, Y/N opting to use a silk green set that she had been gifted from Pansy’s family the Christmas before. Once the girls had settled into their beds under the comfortable sheets and covers and silence fell over the room, Y/N closed her eyes. And as she began drifting off, she fell asleep thinking about Hermione’s smile and just how wonderful it was.

#Harry Potter #Hermione Granger #hermione granger x reader #hermione granger smut #hermione granger fluff #hermione granger imagine #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson x friend!reader #harry potter x reader #ron weasley x reader #ginny weasley x friend!reader #luna lovegood x friend!reader #fred weasley x friend!reader #george weasley x friend!reader #draco malfoy x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 7

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

AN: Tick Tock goes the clock. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

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

The buzzing of his phone is what woke Spencer up. He grumbled, fumbling around his bedside table for the source of the noise.

“Hello?”

“Agent Reid?” A vaguely familiar voice asked, “I’m sorry to wake you but I didn’t know who to call and I-“

“What’s going on?” Spencer interrupted, sitting up quickly as he recognized the voice of one of Hotch’s cleared agents.

“I’m on watch at the park this morning and I think something’s wrong. There’s a note and a clear bag full of stuff but no body, and we’ve been here all night. Hotch took the others to meet the director. He said to call you if anything happened.”

“Are you alone?”

“No, my partner’s with me, she’s checking the bushes.” He explained. Vaguely, Spencer could hear the rustling of the partner in the background, “Agent Reid I don’t know what to do here….”

Doctor. The voice in his head corrected instinctively, but he kept quiet, already three steps ahead. Today was the day your stalker was supposed to drop off his next body. Everybody would be on high alert, especially you. If Hotch had gone to the director he must’ve been expecting a pretty serious escalation, and that made Spencer nervous. He glanced out into the lounge, to where he knew you were curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

“Okay, wait there. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He explained, pulling on the first clothes he could find and strapping on his firearm belt, “Just keep the perimeter clear and make sure no one gets in and out, alright?”

“Alright.”

Spencer got ready as fast as he could, running through every possible scenario in his head as the adrenaline started to slowly creep in. He slowly snuck through the living room, smiling softly as he noticed your sleeping form huddled under a pile of blankets. There was something tender about the way you looked then, something different to all the times he’d seen you fall asleep on the jet. Here, you were completely unguarded, comfortable and soft, and it made Spencer absurdly proud to know that he’d made you feel safe enough for that. For a moment he considered waking you up, but he remembered the dark bags under your eyes and the way your shoulders drooped with exhaustion and he decided against it. You’d been going through hell, and you deserved to sleep. Plus, he rationalized as he opened the door and snuck out, it’s not like you could come with him anyway. There was no need to worry you.

Spencer sighed, pushing all thoughts of you to the back of his mind as he forced himself to focus on the case.

——————————-

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you tried very hard to look busy, fiddling with a completed report as you walked through your master plan one last time. Your eyes flickered to Spencer as he talked animatedly with JJ about something you couldn’t really hear. He leaned back against the desk, casually tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and crossing his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his read sweater and shirt were rolled up above his elbows and you couldn’t help but glance at his exposed forearms and hands. Spencer’s hands were...unfairly attractive. Truly, truly unfairly attractive. The kind of attractive that made doing your job really difficult and made you wonder what exactly was going on with you. His hands, Y/N? You asked yourself, his hands? Really? Get it together man.

But it was too late, you were completely and utterly smitten. You knew it, your friends knew it, the lady at the coffee shop knew it. You were pretty sure every living person in Virginia knew it, except Spencer. Hopefully. Hopefully Spencer didn’t know, yet at least.

Just then you heard him laugh and your nerves intensified. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and forget this stupid plan and everything would go on as normal. You could do normal, right?

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Morgan greeted, “what’re you doing here so late?”

You flushed, “Oh I-you know-“ you let out a breathy laugh, “just finishing off some work.”

He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, but let the matter drop, pulling you into a right side hug, “Alright, Y/L/N, keep your secrets. You know I’ll find out, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re relentless, I know,” you smiled back, “seriously Morgs, I’m all good.”

He nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “Okay. I’ll see you, kid.”

You waved him off, feeling a familiar pinch of guilt in the pit of your stomach as he vanished off into the elevator. Out of the corner of your eye you saw JJ step away from Spencer and you took a deep breath, steeling every last bit of nerve you had.

“Hey, Spence, can you wait for a minute?” You called, hoping you didn’t sound quite as nervous as you felt.

Spencer cocked his head to the side, but gave you a small smile, “Sure, Y/N/N, what’s up?”

You took another deep breath, fighting the urge to look away or fiddle with your bag, “I was-um-what’re you doing tomorrow?”

Spencer thought for the briefest moment before answering, “Tomorrow? I’ve got a report to do and some cold cases to go over and then I was just going to go home and read a few books. Why?”

You flushed. This was it. This was the moment you’d been hyping yourself up for all week.

“I was just wondering if you’d maybe want to go see a movie or something?” You asked all in one breath, forcing yourself to meet his eye.

Spencer frowned, “A movie? Y/N, you know I don’t have a DVD player.”

“No!” You quickly corrected with a nervous laugh, as your heart rate doubled, “No, Wise Guy, I meant with me, like at a cinema. There’s a foreign film festival in town I thought you might like.” You paused and then continued, “And maybe after we could get dinner, or coffee or something? If you’d like.

You waited for an answer, but none was forthcoming. For a long while Spencer just stared at you, opening and closing his mouth like a confused goldfish. Every second that he was silent, your heart sank just a little further and you felt your skin start to burn with embarrassment.

“Y/N-“ Spencer started.

Your eyes were pricking with tears of embarrassment, but you blinked them away, quickly shoving your last few possessions into your bag and forcing a smile.

“It’s cool. I get it,” you said quickly, “No hard feelings, but I had to try. See you, Reid.”

You vaguely heard him call your name again, just once, but you ignored him, rushing through the bullpen faster than you’d ever gone before. You wanted to scream, or rip your face off, or curl up in a ball and die, but you could do that here. Not with Spencer’s eyes still boring into your back like a drill. The elevator door closed and you slid to the ground, burying your face in your knees as the suppressed tears slid down your cheek.

You pulled out your phone and dialed the first number you could think, “Morgs? Are you and ‘Nel still at her apartment?” You asked, sniffing, “Can I come?”

————————————-

When you woke up you had the vague impression that you’d been sad recently. It was a fleeting impression, gone as soon as you registered it, but it confused you and set an odd tone for the day. You looked around, remembering the previous night and the conversation you’d had with Spencer, and smiled gently. You’d never thought that you’d be able to be friends with Spencer again, not after your disastrous attempt at asking him out. Ugh, just the thought made you cringe with embarrassment. But he’d forgiven you, it seemed. Or at least he hadn’t brought it up or acted weird and uncomfortable with you, which was a relief.

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” you called, “what’re you making me for breakfast?”

The only answer was silence. You sat up, letting your blanket fall away.

“Spencer?” You called again, “Are you home?”

Again, no answer. Just then, your phone rang and you answered.

“Hey, ‘Nel, is Spence with you?” You asked quickly.

“Sugar Plum!” She greeted, “You’re up.”

Despite yourself, you smiled, “I know, it’s miraculous. Is he at the office?”

“Nope,” Penelope answered, “he’s not on duty today. Well, he is but not like, FBI duty, he’s on Y/N duty. He’s not with you?”

“No,” you admitted, strolling through the apartment to double check, “looks like he left in a hurry.”

“Maybe he went to get breakfast or coffee or something,” Penelope suggested, “you know he doesn’t tend to keep actual people food in his lair.”

You worried at the inside of your cheek, a nagging worry still sitting in the pit of your stomach, but you pushed it down.

“You’re probably right,” you sighed, “can you ask Hotch if he’s seen him just in case?”

“Sure thing, hun. Him and Emily are right here.”

“Okay, thanks ‘Nel, let me know if you hear from him?” You asked.

“But of course, mon ami,” she agreed, “and if anything comes up in the case I’ll call.”

You put the phone down and shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of whatever funk you were in. It wasn’t abnormal for Spencer to leave to get coffee without telling anyone, and it was just like him to do something sweet like going to get breakfast for you both. But it wasn’t like him to leave without waking you, especially not with what was going on.

“Stop it,” you told yourself, “stop worrying. He’s fine. It’s fine.”

So you forced yourself to behave normally. You made coffee, brushed your teeth, pulled on a set of fresh clothes and perused Spencer’s extensive library, picking a book and settling onto the couch. More time passed. More time, the clock tick tick ticking away the minutes. Pretty soon it was obvious that Spencer wasn’t getting coffee, and then your anxiety spiked. For a long while you just stared at a random page in the book, not absorbing anything whatsoever as your mind raced.

Your phone beeped and you grabbed it frantically, relaxing when you saw Spencer’s name on the screen.

“Spence,” you sighed with relief as soon as you picked up the phone, “oh my god I was so worried. Where the hell are you?”

For a second there was just heavy breathing and then, frantically “Y/N don’t-“

“If you want to see Spencer Reid alive again, meet me at the address I’ve programmed into your car’s GPS,” a robotic voice said, “come alone. If you tell anyone where you’re going, I’ll kill him. If you bring back up, I’ll kill him. If you don’t show up, I’ll kill him. You have twenty minutes.”

You felt like the world had stopped spinning, like the floor had dropped out from under you and you were free falling into empty space. There were chills running up your spine and your heart pounded like an anvil in your fragile rib cage. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer, it pounded. Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. How had he gotten him? You were living your worst nightmare in real time. You saw the mutilated body in your bookstore, the gruesome crime scene photos on Rossi’s crime boards. Was that Spencer now? Was he dead because of you? You imagined him lying on the ground, helpless and bleeding out, his deep brown eyes lifeless and still and, without meaning to, a whimper ripped itself from your throat.

“He’s alive.” You told yourself firmly, “He’s still alive.”

You could barely think. You were in a kind of fugue state. Nothing but pure instinct and muscle memory got you into your car and onto the road and the first cognitive thought you had, as you got closer and closer to the destination, was that you would never be making this return trip. This type of stalker would never let you go, never. He’d never let Spencer go. He’d kill himself and both of you before he let you slip out of his grasp again. This was his endgame for some reason, and you were playing right into it. But what else could you do? He had you in the palm of his hand. The fact was, no matter what you wanted or thought or knew, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for Spencer Reid, nothing you wouldn’t risk. You would walk into hell and back for him, and that was that.

Somewhere along the drive you accepted your death. You would not make the return trip, and that was okay. You would die sometime soon, but so would this monster. He would kill you, and you’d use your last moments of strength to take the son of a bitch down with you. He wouldn’t get the chance to hurt anyone else, you promised yourself. No matter what happened, you would be his last victim. You would find a way to save Spencer too, you repeated to yourself again and again. You wouldn’t make the drive home, but Spencer would. You would do whatever it took to keep him alive.

The GPS announced that you had arrived at your destination, an old house on the outskirts of a quiet suburb. You took a moment in the car to breathe, tightening your knuckles on the steering wheel. You ached to just call Penelope, to tell her everything and let the team rescue you. Oh God, your friends. How would they feel when they found your body? After all the work they’d done to keep you safe, here you were throwing it all away. On a whim, you grabbed your phone and sent a quick group message.

From Y/N Y/L/N

Thank you for everything. I love you all so much

Short, sweet, not even nearly enough. You’d meant to say more, you’d always meant to say more, but you’d thought you had years. Two tears slipped down your cheek as you stepped out of the car, leaving your keys in the ignition so that Spencer would have a way to get away when it was all over. There was an FBI sedan parked in the driveway, but at this point you didn’t care much about the profile. All that mattered was getting this over with.

Luckily your stalker hadn’t specified that you couldn’t bring a gun. You drew your weapon, but didn’t bother with stealth, striding straight into the house with a single minded focus.

“I’m here,” you called, “where are you?”

You heard the sound of shuffling coming from a back room, a fist connecting with something solid and you bit back a whimper.

“We’re in here,” Spencer said, his voice tinged with pain.

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears but you kept your trigger finger steady. Despite the terror, you were trained for this. You would not fail. Before you stepped into the room, you felt a tinge of panic. You weren’t ready for this. You weren’t ready to face the man who’s caused all this, but you had to. You had to. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, calming yourself down and schooling your features into something serene. You had to focus on not escalating the situation, that was your best shot at keeping Spencer alive.

“You can do this,” you whispered, to yourself, “you can do this.”

And, with that, you stepped into the room, “FBI, put your hands in the air.”

—————————

“Y/N,” a familiar voice greeted with an almost breathless excitement, “I was worried that you wouldn’t come.”

You felt bile rise in your throat, “Agent Connolly?”

“I knew you remembered me!” Rick Connolly cheered, the barrel of a handgun pressed to Spencer’s temple.

Your heart pinched at the sight, but you tried not to let the fear show up in your face. Rick Connolly had worked at the BAU for longer than you had. It made a sick sort of sense, the worst kind. He’d been on cases with you, written up paperwork with you, helped with filing. His background checks were always clean, there’d never been any complaints against him. Never. He was a good agent, a reliable ally for the BAU. No matter what happened, Agent Rick Connolly was always close by.

“Of course I remember you, Connolly,” you said with a forced smile, “how could I possibly forget you?”

“Rick.” He insisted, “It’s Rick.”

“Rick, of course, sorry-“

“You call him Spencer,” Connolly interrupted, pressing the barrel of the gun into Spencer’s temple harder and snarling down at him, “not Reid, Spencer. I heard it when he called you.”

“Hey, hey hey,” you said quickly, lowering your gun and raising your hands, “I’m sorry. It was a mistake, of course I should call you Rick. I mean, Spencer is just a work colleague, right? But you’re so much more.”

His eyes lit up with a perverse hope, “I am. I love you more than any of them. I’ve done more for you than any of them. I did all of it, all of it!”

“I know, thank you,” you replied, forcing another gentle smile, “for doing all of that. For loving me like you do.”

You could feel Spencer’s eyes on you, watching you like you were a lifeline, or like he was scared he’d never see you again, but you kept your eyes on Rick.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back.

“But, now that I’m here,” you tried gently, “now that you’ve got my attention and I know how much you love me, why don’t you let Spencer go, hm? That way we can be alone.”

Rick frowned, “Let-let him-? No! No way!” He tightened his grip again and Spencer groaned with pain, “Don’t you see? He needs to die. He’s trying to keep us apart! He wants you gone for good.”

You shook his head, feeling the rising panic, “No he doesn’t, Rick. Reid is my friend, he would never try and keep us apart, right Reid?”

For a moment Spencer was silent, swaying on his feet, but he managed to nod his head and get out a small, “She’s right.”

“YOU’RE A LIAR!” Rick yelled, cocking the gun.

“No!” You screamed, forcing Rick’s attention back to you, “Rick, I don’t understand. I don’t understand why he needs to die. I understand the rest, but I’m still confused. Can-would you be able to explain it to me?”

Rick looked confused for a moment, his gaze jumping between you and Spencer. You held your breath, praying you hadn’t overplayed your hand, only relaxing when he turned back to face you.

“He,” he started, gesturing the gun at Spencer, “got you shot. He let you walk into an active bomber situation alone,” he explained, “he spent years nearly getting you killed and then, when he saw our love, he made you leave! He wants you to be alone and miserable! He wants me to be alone!”

You tried to process the rush of information as quickly as you could, latching onto the first advantage you could find.

“Spencer didn’t make me leave,” you said.

“He did! I saw it! You asked him to go out and he turned you down! He lead you on and then he rejected you, so you left!” Rick yelled, “You thought you were alone, you both did, but I was there, watching. I was always watching. I had to keep you safe, I had to make sure you were protected.”

Spencer whimpered, his shoulders slumping with defeat, as though he’d been found out, and you looked at them both, confused. What on earth were they on about?

You felt the realization click, and your eyes widened with surprise “Oh Rick, oh no you misunderstood.” You started. You stepped closer, keeping your hands raised to show that you weren’t a threat, “You’re right, Spencer did say no when I asked him out, but I’d already resigned by then. I was going to tell him that night but I didn’t get the chance. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine.”

———————————

Spencer was in pain. Deep, aching, throbbing pain. He was pretty sure he had at least one cracked rib, maybe more, and the swift punches to his stomach had knocked the wind right out of his chest. His head was heavy and thick with confusion and, without the strong arm holding him up, he would’ve collapsed onto the floor. Everything in Spencer’s body screamed for an end to the pain. But that was nothing compared to the sick, heavy weight of guilt that hit him when he saw your face. He’d brought you here, you’d come for him. He’d let himself get caught, he’d fucked up. He’d put you in danger when you’d trusted him, but God, he was relieved to see you. And he hated himself for that.

You were beautiful. So so so beautiful. Had he ever told you that? Even with your face set into a mask of calm and determination, you were radiant. Wait, what? He thought to himself, what’re you thinking? Your eyes flickered over to him with a subtle note of concern. Focus, Spencer, he told himself, what did she just say?

His captor seemed confused. He was shifting his weight from one foot to another, looking between the two of you like you were a particularly frustrating puzzle.

“What-what does that-why are you saying this?” Rick asked loudly, lifting the gun to point it at you, “Why’re you saying this?”

You flinched, but stayed calm, “Because it’s the truth. Spencer isn’t the reason I left, he had nothing to do with it. Spencer wants us to be together, that’s why he brought me here.”

You spoke to Rick in a low, soothing voice like he was a wild animal and, as you spoke you were creeping closer and closer. Spencer tracked your movement with his eyes, noticing that you’d shifted your gun belt to be on the side closer to Spencer. It wasn’t an accident.

“Rick, baby,” you crooned, “I’m so proud of you. You’ve accomplished so much, but you don’t need to do it anymore. I’m here now, I’m yours. Let’s get out of here, just you and me, before anyone else arrives.”

“You want that?” Rick asked.

“Of course I do,” you said, with a sweet laugh, “but that gun is scaring me. Can we put it away and let Spencer go so that we can go?”

There was a long pause. Rick looked like he was in a trance, staring at you like you were a walking daydream. Your eyes flickered to Spencer and softened for just a second. Just a brief moment of acknowledgment, almost as though you simply couldn’t help yourself. You were close enough now that Spencer could smell your perfume, which was lucky because, right then, Rick’s dreamy look vanished and he began lifting his gun and pointing it right at you.

“LIAR!” He yelled.

Spencer heard the unmistakable pop of a gunshot, but he had no time to check where it had landed. Instead he lunged forward, grabbed your gun and, in a moment of instinct, pulled the trigger, sending a bullet straight into Rick’s right shoulder. Rick dropped his gun and, in an instant Spencer was on his back, immobilizing him with the pair of cuffs you handed him and rendering him harmless. For a long moment there was just silence as Spencer stared down at the man who had tricked him, savoring the moment of victory until it was broken by a pained gasp. His stomach sank. The bullet, the bullet, where was the bullet Rick had fired?

“Oh my God.” You said breathlessly, sinking down against the nearest wall as blood started to stain your crisp white button down, “Fuck.”

The blood was coming from your abdomen, from a hole just left of your naval that you were pressing your sleeve against in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Your cheeks glistened with tears as you fought not to tense up despite the pain and Spencer felt, for the first time that day, true unadulterated panic.

“No, no no no no,” he said quickly, rushing to your side and gripping your free hand with his, “hey, look at me, we’re gonna be alright. Just keep your eyes open. Stay with me.”

You breathed out slowly through your mouth, “Don’t worry, doc,” you replied through gritted teeth, “ ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Spencer tried to assess the situation, but there was too much panic and adrenaline and fear in his system, and all he could see was the tender way you looked at him, and how you’d smiled the night before. His hands were shaking even where they held yours, and his eyes pricked with suppressed tears. You needed a hospital. You needed surgery and he couldn’t save you. He couldn’t carry you without making you bleed out, and he didn’t even know where you were. He was helpless.

“I’m so sorry, Spence,” you said softly, “I never-I never meant for you to get hurt.”

Spencer laughed incredulously, even though nothing had been less funny in his entire life, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You saved us,” he squeezed your hand and was rewarded with a weak smile from you, “you always save us,” he continued, even more gently, “Rick was right about that. You’ve been saving me for years.”

“And you've saved me right back,” you pointed out, your voice heavy with the effort of keeping your eyes open.

Spencer pressed his lips together, tears pouring down his cheek as he fought back sobs and silently prayed to a God he’d never believed in for some kind of miracle.

“But I can’t save you now,” he sobbed.

“No, but we can,” a third, familiar voice answered.

If Spencer had been any less shocked, he would have laughed at the timing of it all. As it was, he just stared into the eyes of his team as though he wasn’t sure they were real.

“MEDIC! We need a medic in here.” Derek Morgan continued, appearing in the doorway like the miracle he was and instantly taking control of the situation.

He scooped you up like you weighed nothing, carrying you out through the doorway just as Emily helped Spencer to his feet and slung his arm around her shoulders to help support his weight. Somewhere in the background Spencer could hear Hotch reading Connolly his rights, and Rossi making some comment about Rick wishing it had been a kill shot. Everything felt surreal, like some sort of fantasy or a hallucination he’d created to keep from having to lose you again, but he didn’t have the strength to fight it.

“Y/N,” he said softly as Emily handed him off to a nearby medic in the back of a waiting ambulance, “I need to see, Y/N. Please, is she alive?”

The medic gave him a sympathetic smile, bundling him onto a gurney, “I can’t let you see her, sir. They’re taking her straight to surgery.”

“But she’s alive?” Spencer insisted as the paramedics fussed and flitted around him.

The original medic nodded, “For now, she’s alive.”

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

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239 notes · View notes

amphxtrite · 4 years

Text

2 • Hideaway.

chapter summary: Cedric finally catches the chance to talk to you, hidden away in the shelves of the library. What starts as an innocent attempt to befriend you ends in your walls crashing down, but Cedric is willing to change and listen.

series summary: alone almost everyday from the moment you were born, thrown to the side by everyone in society because of who your parents were and who you were said to be, a death eater. Your parents were to of the most powerful dark wizards ever known and because of that you were shunned everywhere you went. When the hufflepuff golden boy sees you for the first time and falls, but is he willing to be judged, feared, and hated, and how far will he go, To Be At Her Side.

warnings: swearing, flashback, breakdown, mentions of wanting to be dead.

taglist: @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @hoe4cedricdiggory @queenl04 @persephone-archives @0niko-san @annasdani @joalinbenefits @awritingtree

word count: 2.2k

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

Hideaway.

a place used as a retreat or a hiding place.

The Hogwarts library was a grand room, filled top to bottom with books of all kinds; Fantasy, romance, science fiction, history, anything you could imagine, could be found in the pages of a thick leather bound journal or thin paperback with a cracked spine.

Most students took the library for granted, preferring to spend their time at Hogsmeade or around the lake, but for you, anywhere with too many students was a disaster waiting to happen.

The library was your hide away, a retreat from the prying eyes of the student body. A place you could smile, read and do whatever you pleased without judgement. Madam Pince had practically left this place for you to roam, she was far enough away where you could be at peace from her constant shushing, and because of the lack of students most days, it was usually just you.

The past few months, you’d been slipping into the deep bookshelves to hide yourself, immersing yourself in the text of the wise witches and wizards who had come before you, reading their stories and spells and learning all they knew.

Your safe space became the closed shelves, home smelt like old books and wood, tranquility came in the form of muggle stories and old journals.

While you sat stowed away in a far corner of your hideaway, eyes scanning over the stories of old Greek heroes, Cedric sat in the great hall, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

He had barely seen you since the incident in potions all those months ago, winter had arrived, and he felt strange saying it, but he missed you.

He missed the girl whom he’d never even spoken to.

He missed your eyes filled with strength, holding yourself with pride despite what people believed.

He missed your hair that frames your face so perfectly.

He missed you although he barely knew who you were, and he wanted to see you more than just a quick glance in class before you disappeared through the door.

Cedric wasn’t proud of it, but he began following you after your last class with him, to see where you snuck away to.

The first couple tries resulted in him losing you through the crowd, but he’d managed to catch you slipping into the library on a Saturday morning during breakfast.

His hand hovers over the door knob, mentally debating if he should enter, try his luck at talking to you.

It was Saturday, Hogsmeade weekend. No one was going to be in the library today, he should be alright.

Pushing open the large door, Cedric readjusts his eyes to the dim lighting of the library paired with the bright white light streaming through the windows.

He made sure to be quiet, closing the door and slowly walking through the room, using his lightest steps in hopes not to be noticed.

Pince must’ve been at breakfast because besides the small ruffle of pages being turned in the distance. The library was completely silent.

A small yellow light flickered in the corner of Cedric’s eye, guiding him as you lay unaware, nose stuck in a book.

He follows the sound of paper being turned, and light breathing.

He begins his ascend up a stairway to the second story of the library and through the shelves where he saw the flicker of light.

His heart began to rush as your breathing grew closer. His hands were clenched into fists and his face was flushed. This was it, he was finally going to talk to you.

You sigh in content as you set down the muggle classic ‘To Kill A Mockingbird.’ You lay for a couple moments just staring at the ceiling as you shook your head, maybe you didn’t have it as bad as what others dealt with in the muggle world.

You sit up and pick up the small novel, slipping it back into place on the shelf.

“Harper Lee. I’ll have to read up on her.” You mumble to yourself as you skim the old spines.

Your thoughts are cut short when a shiver runs down your spine and you sense a presence behind you. Swiveling your body, only the sight of rows upon rows of books make themselves present, but you knew better than to believe you were alone.

“Who’s there?” You ask no one in particular.

You’re about to open your mouth again, when a mess of brown hair, pokes out from behind the science fiction shelf.

“H-Hello.” The boy spoke, finally revealing himself from the shelf.

You recognized the boy as the one from your classes. The one you gave the note too.

He doesn’t give up does he?

“If you’re here to make a snide remark, please leave me alone.” You sigh, pulling a random novel from the shelf as you turn and retreat back to your spot.

“I-I would do no such thing.” the boy states, beginning to follow you. “I’m Cedric, Cedric Diggory. We have potions and transfigurations together!”

“I’m aware.” You nod, trying to ignore him.

You almost felt bad for the boy, Cedric. He obviously hadn’t planned this far and his mind was frantically searching for words.

“Look I’m sorry for coming around like this I just-.”

“I don’t need your pity Diggory, now please just leave me be.” You remark, sitting on your blanket laid neatly on the floor.

“No please, y/n right?” Cedric smiles extending his hand.

“I know you know my name Cedric. Everyone at this bloody school does.” You hiss, voice laced with venom, surprising Cedric and causing him to step back.

You don’t mean to be cold, but you were not in the mood to make friends. This was bound to end in disaster, and you didn’t need to add another person to the long list of failed attempts.

“I-I understand, I was just-.”

“Oh that’s rich.” You scoff.

Cedric can see your attempt at being rude, but for some reason, he isn’t hurt by it.

Your eyes are jumping around him, refusing to meet him. Your leg is shaking up and down anxiously. Your hand is massaging the area on your chest your locket should be.

You were nervous.

Cedric takes a deep breath, refocusing himself.

“Look y/n, I just wanted to talk to you, try and become your friend.”

Your eyes flicker down, doubt and fear swim through them as you shuffle away from Cedric, trying to make yourself as small as possible, hoping he’d grow bored and leave.

“W-Where’s that locket you always wear?” He attempts, only causing you to flinch back further and drop your hand from your neck.

“None of your business Diggory.

Cedric wasn’t about to give up, and he took a seat on a chair at a desk not too far from you.

“I-I’m not interested in making friends.” You murmur, cursing yourself for your voice, cursing yourself for being weak.

“There’s no need to be afraid, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

Your mind is thrown into a distant memory that haunted you, and your head begins to spin.

The horrid day the aurors surrounded your house.

Your parents clutched you close to them as the wizards holding wands to their throats ripped you from their grasp.

“Take the child for a moment.”

Unfamiliar arms encased you before placing you on the carpet, leaving you as you bawled for your parents. You could only see them being disapparated away as your mother's locket appeared in your hand. Your last piece of her and your father.

The large boots of ministry workers and auror’s stood before you, discussing amongst themselves what to do with you.

“There’s no need to be afraid, I’m not here to hurt you.” One remarks, lifting you up, but holding you an arm lengths away.

“There’s no way people will be safe around her.”

“Her parents have probably already brainwashed her.”

“Can someone shut her up?!”

That was the last thing you heard before the sleeping charm was cast on you.

Your vision goes red, your fists clench and without thinking you pull your wand from your pocket and stomp forwards.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me, but you ruined my life! You’ll never know what I fucking went through because of your ignorance. I was a child you asshole, I was three and you fucking took my parents from me and left me to die at that god forsaken orphanage!” You scream, eyes clouding with tears as you press your wand closer to someone’s neck, but it slips your mind, who.

“They may have been evil, but they were all I ever had! You should’ve just killed me there, it would’ve been better than living this life!” You rage, bringing your wand to meet their neck.

Cedric stands with his hands beside his face in surrender, his breathing heavy as he watches your grip on your wand tighten and your tears stream down your face.

“Y/n, I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. P-Please don’t hurt me.”

Cedric’s eyes squeeze shut and after a couple moments of silence the sound of wood cluttering on the floor signals him to open them again.

Your hands fly to your face as your legs fail you, dropping you to the ground as you back yourself into the nearest wall, tucking yourself into a ball.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.” You sob, pulling your hair and using your palms to wipe the tears.

“Y/n!”

“No! Stay away from me! I’ll only make it worse.” You sniffle, trying to escape Cedric’s gaze.

“Please just leave me, I’m a monster Cedric, leave before I do hurt you.” You sob, hiding your face again.

Cedric ignores this and slides to the floor next to you, pulling a handkerchief from his book bag and holding it to you.

“No, y/n it’s not your fault. I made you remember something. Didn’t I?” Cedric sighs, sitting in front of you.

“Does it matter? I could have killed you! I’m just like them.” You shout, turning away from the hufflepuff as he turns with you.

“Y/n, look at me. Please look at me.” Cedric pleas.

“You’re afraid of me, admit it.”

“Y/n, I-”

“Admit it Cedric.” You cry, pushing yourself farther away.

“It's not your fault I made you cry y/n. I’m sorry.” Cedric apologizes, gently pulling your hands away from your tear stained cheeks.

“D-don’t touch me. I could have hurt you Cedric. I can’t forgive myself for that.” You whimper, turning your head to avoid his kind grey eyes.

“I’m fine y/n, look at me. You didn’t hurt me, just scared me is all.” Cedric smiles, attempting to reassure you.

“What have I done?”

Cedric’s smile drops at your comment.

“Y/n.” Cedric lifts his hand to wipe the tears from your face.

“No, please don’t.”

Cedric sighs and drops his hand, opting to take your hand into his instead.

“You could never hurt me y/n, please don’t do this to yourself.”

“Oh it’s too late for that Diggory. I’ve been doing this my whole life.” You smile incredulously.

“I’ll always be the daughter of the l/n’s. I’ll never be able to change that. And you saw what I did. I’m just like them.”

Cedric opens his mouth to deny your claim, but you cut him off.

“You know what's funny too? I still miss them, I still wish they’d come to hold me, but I guess that’s just the childhood loneliness talking.”

“Y/n.”

“How could they bring a child into this world after everything they did and expect it to be okay? How could they leave me here?” You whimper as a fresh wave of sadness hits you.

“I’ve been alone everyday of my life Cedric, treated like an animal, a threat, a monster.”

You take a deep breath and allow the tears to flow freely.

“I feel like I’m just payment of a debt my parents owe, l-like I’m nothing.”

Cedric listens intently, slowly stroking the back of your hand and offering the handkerchief to you again.

You shake your head.

“I-I’d like you to go now.” You mumble, retracting your hand from Cedric’s warm grasp.

“Please don’t push me away y/n. If you don’t want my pity I understand, but I really do want to be your friend.” Cedric smiles gently and extends his hand out to you.

Your eyes flash in fear and doubt again, but you accept his outstretched hand.

“You understand how hard it’s gonna be for me to trust you?” You state.

Cedric nods his head.

“You’re not going to be afraid to be seen with me in public?” You push, remembering the first day he saw you.

Cedric freezes for a moment, knowing what you’re referring to, his head fights with his heart, but he knows his answer. He pushes his own fear aside and smiles.

“Why would I? You’re my friend now right?” He chuckles, earning himself a small grin from you.

“You have a beautiful smile you know.”

Your eyes lift from their spot on the floor into Cedric’s bright grey ones.

“T-Thank you.”

Cedric nods, sitting in peaceful silence beside you as you slowly catch your breath.

“Any chance you’d like to meet here tomorrow?” Cedric suggests, scratching the back of his neck.

“I-I’d like that.” You smile, sniffling into your sleeve.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter imagine #cedric diggory imagine #harry potter #cedric diggory fluff #cedric x y/n #cedricsbrowncurls #angst

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sunnqwrites · 4 years

Text

Sticky Notes

─── ∙ ~εïз~ ∙ ───

genre: fluff, a bit of angst if you squint

warnings: a few curse words(?), um kuroo is a lil bastard?

pairing: kozume kenma x gender neutral! reader

synopsis: kenma wasn’t a person for confessing straight up, so all he’ll do is send you sticky notes from a far.

word count: 2.1k

When someone thought of the volleyball player, Kozume Kenma, they think of a quiet and reserved male. A male that usually never voices his opinion. Someone who doesn’t want to be noticed by on-lookers. But that’s what someone who doesn’t know Kozume Kenma would think. They don’t personally know this, cat like volleyball player. Kenma is quite blunt, especially to his underclassman Lev whenever he messes up. The duo-color haired male likes to show his friends that he cares in little ways. As much as helping them practice if they just lost a big game.

“Kenma!”

Golden eyes turned away from their psp and met hazel colored eyes. Kuroo Tetsuro, Kenma’s childhood friend. The second-year let out a soft sigh and turned off his game before turning to his friend. “What do you need Kuroo?” The golden eyed second-year mumbled, itching to go back to his previous game that he was playing.

“[name] is coming to visit.~”

Kenma knew that tone from Kuroo. It was teasing. Kenma let out a small hum before turning his psp back on, “what about that?” The duo-color haired second-year knew Kuroo had a smirk on his face without even looking. “Don’t you want to see them, Kenma?” Kuroo smiled, a knowing smile that is. Kenma fiddled with his device while it was turning on and looked at his rooster haired friend. Did he really want to answer that question? It could just result in Kuroo teasing him for the rest of the week, hell, even the month if Kuroo would hang onto the answer Kenma would give him.

So Kenma did the thing he thought was the best. Ignore the rooster-head, making Kuroo pout. He thought he would have gotten at least some-sort of answer from the game-loving boy. If Kuroo couldn’t get a reaction out of Kenma this time, he’ll get a reaction from Kenma when [name] actually arrives.

Letting out a soft hum, you flipped the page to the book you were reading. You were currently in the library, and it was lunch time. You just hoped that a certain rooster-headed captain wouldn’t annoy you. Maybe he’ll be practicing with Kenma! You softly smiled at the thought of the quiet setter. Someone that didn’t know you could definitely look at how you look at Kenma and say that you were in love. The look in your eyes had so much adoration for the game-loving student. “[name]-senpai?” Your head shot up to meet bright brown eyes, a big grin on the person’s face.

“Hello, Inuoka...” You craned your neck to the side to see if the tall first year came with anyone else. “and hello Shibayama and Lev.” Of course, the other two first years would come. It seemed like those boys were together everywhere they go. Or maybe every time you saw them they were just together as a trio. You gave the three first-years a small smile and looked at Inuoka. “Did you need something, you three?”

“We have a volleyball camp coming up, and we’re going over to Shinzen High! But we need our grades up..and Shibayama said that he wouldn’t be able to help us on his own, and I thought of you!”

You let out an inward chuckle. Of course they needed help studying for a volleyball camp. “Fine, fine, just go get your supplies while I get some study guide books alright,” you informed over your shoulder after getting up to get books from another section of the library. The three first years nodded and bolted off, with Shibayama dragging Lev before the tall Russian could make a remark that could embarrass someone.

Looking at the first-year books, your mind wandered to the chaotic first-years. They were sure loud with the exception of Shibayama. Lev was quite clumsy at volleyball whenever you came to watch Kenma the volleyball club. He just couldn’t match-up with Kenma’s sets and according to what Kenma had told you, Lev was horrible at his recieves. Now Inuoka was - in your opinion - was a good volleyball player. Better than Lev to say the least. You had went to go watch them play Karasuno during Golden Week, and you were impressed by the small ginger in Karasuno. You were pretty sure Kenma even became friends with the small middle-blocker.

You mentally grinned at the thought of Kenma having more friends. You had gotten the materials you needed and made your way back to your study table. Placing down the books, your eyes wandered to a light pink colored sticky note. “What’s this...?” You mumbled, delicately taking the sticky note off of your closed book.

‘Your smile is beautiful, don’t stop smiling.’

You blinked at the message written on the light pink sticky note. When..when did you get a secret admirer? You knew that the person had put the sticky note down when you had gone to get the books for the first-years. It could have been just a random student from your school. Oh god did you have a stalker?! You hoped you didn’t have a stalker.

The golden-eyed boy let out an exasperated sigh. Why did he just do that?! Now you probably think whoever this ‘secret admirer’ of yours is a crazy stalker. Kenma let out another huff at his decision of giving you that sticky note. He just hoped that you won’t figure out his handwriting on the sticky note. Kenma crouched down behind a shelf of books, internally screaming at himself for even giving you that note. Even if it was anonymously.

“Kenma?”

His head shot to the side to meet [eye color] eyes. Oh god it’s you. In the flesh. Kenma’s eyes shot to another area of the library before meeting your eyes again. “Um, hello, [name]..” He mumbled, his head turning away from you. You let out a soft giggle and scooted closer to Kenma. “I usually don’t see you in the library during lunchtime, why are you here?” You questioned and Kenma swore his heart stopped. He isn’t going to make himself embarrassed by confessing that he came to the library to give you a sticky note.

“I-”

A quiet but sudden ring let out through the library, spooking both you and Kenma. Pouting, you stood up before helping Kenma up. Kenma swore that his heart started racing even faster. Faster than when he would finish up a big volleyball game. Your hands were warm and soft, contrasting his cold hands.

“I’ll see you during practice, Kenma!” You chirped before bouncing out of the library, missing the light pink tinge on Kenma’s cheeks. And it seemed Kenma missed the blush on resting on your cheeks as well.

A demonic laughter can be heard throughout the club room, catching the attention of the volleyball players. Kuroo was cackling at Kenma’s ...flustered face? Oh god is the world ending, the Kozume Kenma is flustered at something? “You- You actually gave [name] a sticky note and almost got caught?” Kuroo repeated, making Kenma let out a groan.

“Yes.”

Queue more of Kuroo’s demonic laughter, making everyone in the club room sweatdrop.

“Oi, Kuroo! Be quiet and leave Kenma alone!” The team’s libero, Yaku yelled from ourside the club room, making Kuroo let out a groan. Kenma silently thanked the team mom Yaku for saving Kenma from Kuroo.

“[name]’s here!!” Lev yelled out, making Kenma’s head shoot up and turn to the front doors of the gymnasium. You were standing there, a small smile adorning your features. Kenma swore his heart stopped for a second before ripping his eyes away from your figure and back to the current volleyball game.

Hazel eyes looked at Kenma with underlying mischief and smug. He saw how Kenma looked at you. So much adoration and love in his eyes. Kuroo might even say that Kenma likes you more than his games. The third-year captain walked over to the slightly hunched second year with a smirk. “You should continue giving them sticky notes.” Kuroo suggested, making Kenma look at Kuroo, then to you, then back at Kuroo.

“I guess..” Kenma mumbled back, making Kuroo grin at his childhood friend.

Kenma did continue to leave you anonymous sticky notes. He would give you multiple if you had a horrible day at school. You were confused on who would leave you sticky notes, but you were grateful about who kept sending them. Most of the messages on the sticky notes were really sweet. Some encouraged you on days when you wanted to give up. And some even made you laugh with a dumb joke.

But now, you wanted to find the culprit. Wanted to find whoever keeps sending you these cute notes. It’s because you don’t want to hurt them. You had feelings for Kenma, and you didn’t want to get this person’s hopes up that you liked them because of the sticky notes. You needed to find this person.

“Kenma~”

Oh god he knew that tone of voice. Golden eyes darted to Kuroo’s tall figure, a curious look in his eyes. Kuroo’s eyes were hard, strict even after that one sentence. He gave Kenma a way too happy grin, “You need to confess to [name].” Kenma wished he had a drink in his mouth to spit at Kuroo. His eyes barely widened at what Kuroo said, but the rooster-head noticed the slight widen in Kenma’s eyes.

“N-”

“Someone might come and snatch [name] away from you~”

Kenma’s jaw tightened at the thought of you being taken away from him. Of course he didn’t want that, but he also didn’t want to confess just yet. Oh...maybe he’ll confess with the sticky notes he’s been giving you. Or he could just..confess to you straight up. No..he’d rather confess to you with the sticky notes.

“Fine.” Kenma retorted, his eyes glued to the ground. He would have to confess soon, or else Kuroo would come for his ass with a pitchfork and devil horns. Kenma shivered at the thought of Kuroo chasing after him for not confessing.

“Good~” Kuroo smirked, making the second-year setter let out a soft sigh. Now he had to confess to you quicker than he anticipated to, all because of Kuroo. Kenma swore he had a headache at just the thought of you rejecting him.

You were worried about your anonymous sticky note sender. Their latest notes would only have a word written on it. It first started with the word ‘I’. It was given to you during class when you weren’t looking, and somehow none of your other classmates noticed who was the sender.

The next word was ‘love’. You had gotten this sticky note when the third-year libero delivered this to you, a smile on his face. You first thought that your admirer was him, but he quickly explained that he was just here to deliver it to you, and that he wasn’t your ‘secret admirer’.

And of course, the last word was ‘you.’ Put them all together and you get ‘I love you.’ without a sender name. It was given to you during a bad day. A stuffed animal was on your desk before school had ended. And on the stuffed animal was the sticky note.

Now, you’re just waiting for the sender to send their name. You want to meet them so badly. You had been talking to Kenma about your little problem, but all your responses with him were a bit, dry? Was Kenma mad at you? You were slightly panicking now. What have you done to make Kenma mad at you? Speak a bit too much to him? Oh god you probably annoyed him with your rambling!

You silently sniffed. You were crouched down, leaning against the outside wall of the gymnasium. Tears had pricked the ends of your eyes. You didn’t want Kenma to be mad at you. You liked, hell, even loved Kenma, and you couldn’t bare the thought of him being mad at you.

“[name]?”

Your head shot up to meet Kenma’s golden eyes through blurry eyes from tears. “Why are you crying?” He softly asked, crouching down right next to you. “I’m sorry if I made you mad for being so annoying..” You mumbled weakly, choking down sobs. Your attention was brought to a small stuffed cat in Kenma’s arms. Oh god was he going to confess to someone?

Kenma could only let out a sigh before bringing you into a warm hug. “I was never mad at you.” You sniffled quietly and met his eyes.

“Why were your responses kind of dry when I told you about my sticky notes situation?”

Kenma stayed quiet. It killed your soul a little.

“I didn’t want you to find out.” Kenma softly said, bringing the stuffed cat into your arms. There was a sticky note.

“Wait..”

You looked on what was on the sticky note.

‘I love you -Kozume Kenma”

─── ∙ ~εïз~ ∙ ───

taglist: @haikoo @allywritesimagines @anonanonymousanon @loevbot @miyuswriting @thoebe-fly @acacaza @koutaroulovebot

ask to be added onto taglist ♡

#i had fun writing this #i lost track of time #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #nekoma x reader #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #kenma imagine #kenma #๑nekoma

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yelenasdog · 4 years

Text

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝟏

♰ 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔱

genre: fluff

summary: new school, new faces. or maybe not? part one to a series explaining the pictures of my college au moodboard “new faces”.

words: 2k

warnings: pining, cursing, kissing, lots of inaccuracies to the show, that’s all i can think of.

a/n: i haven’t done anything for cm in quite some time but i got this random poof of inspo so here take it LMAO roger fic coming really soon.

♀♀♀

It was their first kiss. First date, actually.

Emily was a senior at Georgetown, having just transferred from University of Pittsburgh for her last year. Both schools were an odd choice for the young woman, the former proving to be the wrong fit, as it turned out. It angered her mother that she had been transferring so close to graduation, and frankly Emily could care less, but for some reason, she felt her skin itch at any thought of staying at that horrid place just a semester longer.

She wasn’t quite sure as to why. Her questions might have been answered, though, her first day on the new campus.

The fall air was chilly and crisp, her nose running ever so slightly as she would pull her burgundy jacket tighter around herself in a desperate grab at warmth, it all to no avail. She kept trying, though, pulling the tie around her waist so tight that it felt as if she was in a corset.

(Not that she would know, she’d refused to ever get near one. The whole idea of them scared her.)

She watched the colorful leaves crunch under her boots, enjoying the sound and feeling a great deal, the texture reminding her fondly of moments from her youth, the few fond ones she had, anyway. She smiled softly, looking up to see the leaves swirl around a familiar looking blonde head of hair.

A few of the leaves got stuck in the hay colored (now) mess, and she only smiled at it, reaching up a gentle hand to pick them out. She grinned down at them and bit her pink lips, watching as they dropped to the cobblestone from her hand. She continued on with a pep in her step, and to put it lightly, Emily was infatuated.

She thought about the blue eyed beauty for the rest of the day, her elegance, her lips that somehow weren’t chapped in the horribly cold weather (which not that Emily knew yet, but was because of the cinnamon peppermint chapstick that the mystery girl kept in her right pocket), and her aura, so to say, as a whole. The voice in her head told her to simmer down, that it was unrealistic that someone as seemingly bright and sunny would even think about spending a flicker of precious time with someone like her. Emily should have been more confident, as she would learn, as mystery girl had been thinking of her, too.

Yes, Jennifer Jareau was thinking of the unknown girl with the wonderfully long eyelashes, and the shiny dark hair that was similar to the shade of black that graced the feather of the crows she would see down by the pond she passed on her morning runs. Her mind was otherwise occupied from all normal affairs, consumed by thoughts of her ripped and pale lips that the enticing other woman darted her tongue across mere seconds after the last time she had, every single time.

Jennifer had wished to tell the girl that licking her lips only dried them out more, only wanting to help relieve her of any possible pain, as that’s what Jennifer always did. That’s why she told herself she was thinking of the drop dead gorgeous girl who she had sworn she’d seen before, and she promised to herself she would find her and let her know.

And apparently, she would.

It wouldn’t be for a few hours, though, not until they both ended up at the top floor of the library, the quietest one where there was a silent rule that speaking was forebode. Emily internally cursed herself for that, feeling damned that fate would put her in a position of such pining, yearning. It was an ironic situation, though, as Emily would like to believe that she would have the confidence in herself enough to actually go up to the blonde and make conversation, maybe ask her for a study date? But, she wouldn’t. Not today.

Jennifer would, though. Jennifer would catch notice of the brunette lurking behind the single bookshelf in the upper level, as it was only really there for storage and the shelves were sparse. So with her heart beating and her palms sweaty, she went down the flights of stairs, her feet silent against the carpet. They would sound out again when she reached the tile flooring of the second level, and she screwed her eyes shut, hoping that somehow the girl followed her and that JJ would hear her footprints.

She didn’t care how ridiculous she looked, all bundled up and standing in the middle of a group of tables with her eyes closed, almost like she was trying to turn invisible, hiding in plain sight. Honestly, she very well may have been.

A few beats passed, and Jennifer gave up on her non existent spidey senses, deciding to try to actually rid her mind of raven girl, as she had decided to call her until she knew her real name, and study for her upcoming exam that she her until she knew her real name, and study for her upcoming exam that she somehow had, despite it only being the sophomores first day.

So she sat quietly as she read through her criminology textbook, humming some tune that her friend had introduced her to, something by a new indie group. Her humming came to a cease, though, when she heard a thud. She looked up, a small gasp falling from her glossed lips at who was sitting across from her.

She looked right back down to the tanned wood of the table, as soon as she saw warm brown eyes boring into her. Then, it was quiet, just the bustle of those around her. Pages flipping, pencils scratching, and small groans escaping from tired students as they went.

“Why’d you stop?”

Jennifer’s breath caught in her throat, her perfectly manicured hand freezing on the paragraph she was reading. Raven girl's voice had caught her off guard, deep and smooth, like honey.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” The blonde stuttered out, still having a hard time meeting her eyes.

“Your humming, I liked it, it was nice. Don’t tell me you stopped because of me!” She leaned forward on her arm, quirking a perfect eyebrow. They both laughed, and Emily felt she hadn’t ever in her life heard such a golden and melodic sound before.

“Sorry, sorry, you just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Emily. I just transferred here from-”

“University of Pittsburgh?”

A look of bewilderment came across Emily's stark features, along with a sly smile. “How’d you know,”

“Jennifer. My name’s Jennifer. I came here for my grad studies a while back.”

Emily chuckled again, falling back to her chair. “God, I swore you looked so familiar.” She said, watching as Jennifer laughed and shook her head. Jennifer closed her book, observing that Emily never had even opened hers. She placed it in her bag slinging it over her shoulder. She stood, Emily following suite.

“Small world, right, Emily?”

She nodded immediately, tightening her own grip on her satchel. The leather was cool on her calloused fingers,

“Care to chat with me about it over a coffee?”

And that’s how they ended up sitting in the quaint cafe just down the road, watching as the sun started to sink, beverages in hand. Jennifer had found out that Emily preferred her coffee black, while Emily had found out that Jennifer liked hers with 2 hazelnut creams and 4 sugars. The thought made both girls smile, finding that both drinks fit their personalities perfectly.

Growing impatient, Emily ran her tongue over her lips again, feeling the peeling skin, the taste bitter and the sores burning. She leaned closer to Jennifer, like she had earlier in the library. Jennifer could feel her breath fanning over her neck, and it gave her butterflies, just like the ones she can remember being so obsessed with in her youth.

“What do you say we get outta here, find somewhere to watch the sunset?”

Jennifer only nodded bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and standing, taking Emily's hand as it had been offered to her, following her wherever she may go.

Now, they were sitting on the concrete of the rooftop to the freshman dorms, Emily somehow managing to get through, claiming she had some friends who would be happy to let her up. Apparently, she wasn’t bluffing.

“Sunset’s gorgeous, huh?” Jennifer spoke, her hands feeling the rough material beneath her, the wind blowing against her face. Her hair floated around her like a halo, and though Emily had lost much faith, if she had to spot an angel, her money was on them looking just like the girl next to her. Her eyes never left Jennifer’s silhouette as she spoke, her focus captured.

“Yeah. Breathtaking.”

Jennifer turned to meet her gaze, both of them fully understanding what breathtaking, really, truly meant in that moment. It was the windswept hair, breathtaking, really, truly meant in that moment. It was the windswept hair, watery eyes, red noses. Bright smiles, hands basically itching to reach for the other.

“Does everyone call you Jennifer?”

“I mean, my mom calls me Jen?”

Emily shook her head, saying “No, that won’t work. How about a last name?”

“Jareau.”

She took a second, using this as an opportunity to stall, decide her next move.

“I’ve got it! How about JJ? Yeah?”

Jennifer or JJ, smiled again, looking to her hands. She loved it, God, why did she love it? She knew the answer to that, because Emily had given it to her, it was new, exciting. Just like her.

“It’s that, or J squared. Which one?” She tilted her head, and then both laughed and smiled, something they found they would be doing a lot of together.

“Yeah, you’re right. JJ is good, it’s good.” She whispered, lifting her head. She was met with Emily, who had some troubled look upon her face. She was conflicted, that much JJ could tell, her few profiling classes she’d had serving her well.

They were close, now, and JJ could finally see the folds and cracks of the other girls lips, wanting nothing more than to just lean in and kiss them, once and for all.

“Y’know, uh, licking your lips makes dryness even worse.”

Emily's mouth made an “o”, a smile coming soon after.

“Really? Well then you’ve got to spill, what on Earth do you do to keep yours so damn perfect?”

“I- Fuck.”

Not waiting a second more, JJ rushed forward, connected their lips in what felt so long awaited, though they had only formally known each other for a few hours. The contrast of their skin was so enticing, so addicting, they couldn’t help but smile, teeth clashing and breaths mixing. They only separated to catch their breaths, chests heaving.

“It’s chapstick. I never leave home without it.” JJ commented, said chapstick having left remnants on Emily's lips. She nodded, opening her eyes.

“Yeah, I got that. Peppermint and,” She quickly flicked her tongue again, recognition becoming prevalent in her features. “cinnamon?”

JJ’s smile widened, as it had never left her face, and she nodded slowly, pulling the tube out from her right pocket. She popped off the lid, shifting positions so that she was straddling Emily's lap, her hair dangling in her eyes.

“Is this okay?” She questioned, the chapstick still in her shaky hand. Emily nodded vigorously, her heart beating quite fast, her mind repeating all the possibilities that could go wrong like some sort of mantra.

“Yeah, this is more than okay.” She laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. JJ did the same, putting on another round of the solution before leaning down and placing a long kiss on Emily's lips. She pulled away, running the tube over them again, “just for good measure” she had said.

When they finally had left the cold rooftop, hand in hand, the sky had turned into an indigo sheet, the stars in it shimmering as bright as ever.

“Em?” JJ had questioned, stopping in her tracks. Emily looked over, raising her brows and tilting her head, resembling a puppy.

“Hmm?”

“Can we do this again?”

The question hung in the air, and Emily savoured it, letting it sink in deeply, as deep as it could go. They started walking again, their heels echoing loudly against the wet stone.

“Yeah, JJ. I’d like that.”

♀♀♀

hmmmmmmm interesting ANYWAY i’ll make a pt two prolly idk peace ily go drink water and eat protein

edit: i just reread this this is so horrible what the FAWK im so sorry never let me write when im pulling an all nighter ever again

xx hj

#jemily #jj jareau #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jemily fic #jennifer jareau x emily prentiss #jj x emily #wlw fic #jj jareau fic #emily prentiss fic #idk what to tag this #cm #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #we will rock queue

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

Text

A massive thank you to @seijishun, @ohnomybreadsticks, and the two anons who so charmingly helped me figure out how to get a link to my AO3 at the top of my page. Have a small snippet of thanks!

Being a librarian was both the best and the worst job in the world, Jaskier was certain. He adored the activities with children, reading hour, watching them get all wide eyed when given a new book and having to paint the world it would suck them into in a few words. But Jaskier also liked some of the adults, making recommendations and just chatting to people about their interests. What he didn’t like was being stuck on the desk in charge of the computer area. It was quiet and boring there, most people knew what they were doing and what they wanted. At most, he’d be asked for help logging in.

It wasn’t often he was stuck on the desk after the incident with the computer mouse, the ball of elastic bangs and the fly that had been buzzing through the area. Alas, sometimes it was a necessary evil and Jaskier did try to make the best of it. He watched all the patron and tried to guess their backstories. Which was how his eyes landed on a guy who was scowling somewhat fierce at a computer. He’d obviously arrived before Jaskier’s shift because he would have noticed such a handsome man walking in. This guy was in the corner looking like the world at large had offended him and he was about to smash the screen. Which just wouldn’t do, replacing items cost a lot of money and a lot of effort, something Jaskier just couldn’t deal with.

Sauntering up the the man, he flashed his badge and smiled. “Anything I can help you with?”

Golden eyes gave him a flat stare before the man all but growled. “Maybe you could this slow piece of shit to work how it’s supposed to?”

Looking at the screen, Jaskier smiled, the “of course” falling from his lips as he pulled up a chair. The tab open was one for ordering a new phone and Jaskier couldn’t help but find it incredibly endearing. Given how angry the man with white hair had seemed, he wondered how well he would cope with a small screen.

Gently, Jaskier talked the man through the website, keeping him occupied while the pages loaded. It really was a slow machine, the library’s internet connection left a lot to be desired. However, they finally got there, a new phone ordered for the man (Geralt, Jaskier had spied on the order form) and they were saying goodbye. It had been a lovely fifteen minutes wasted, staring at a gorgeous man and feeling useful, Jaskier was sad to see him go.

Only, a few days later Geralt was back again. And he sought Jaskier out to help with printing some form off even though it was Valdo on the computer desk. Maybe Jaskier swanned by him with a wide grin at being personally asked to help even though he wasn’t the one on the computer section that day.

After that, Geralt kept coming in with inane requests. Setting up a new e-mail address, printing off more forms, photocopying sections from a book. And each time, he looked like the world had personally offended him except for the small hint of a smile that seemed to hide at the edges of his lips whenever he looked at Jaskier.

What Jaskier didn’t understand was the time he was helping Geralt and a glamorous woman strolled through the computer section, looked at Geralt and rolled her eyes before leaving. She looked like a dream and Jaskier was half tempted to watch her go except Geralt cleared his throat and pointed at the screen with a “so which button do I hit to make it landscape again?”

Geralt came by once or twice a week and Jaskier had grown to really look forward to his visits. Until Geralt appeared, looking like constipated wolf sucking on a lemon.

“What can I help you with today?” Jaskier trilled as he approached, a little too loud for library conditions but it wasn’t like he could throw himself out for being noisy.

“Don’t know.” Geralt stood stock still and scowled.

“Well then, why don’t we discuss it more over a dinner date?” The words were out and Jaskier smiled, professionalism be damned.

It seemed that Geralt liked the idea because he looked a few degrees less furious. “That would be nice, 7pm and I’ll pick you up?”

Excited, Jaskier nodded and tried not to rub his newly arranged date in Valdo’s face too much. After work, he got home and got ready in high hopes. Tight jeans, bright silk shirt, boots and a dash of eyeliner because he wanted to make an effort.

At seven o’clock sharp, there was a knock on his door. Geralt stood there in a suit, a sleek car behind him and a driver standing by it. Holy shit. Jaskier’s jaw dropped as Geralt led him over to it and offered a hand to help him into the car.

There went all of Jaskier’s ideas about just who Geralt was. Because no offence but no fire fighter, butcher or bodyguard could afford. Without much thought, Jaskier blurted out “who are you?”

“Geralt Rivia, founder and head of Wolf Defences and Security.”

A nervous laugh ripped from Jaskier’s throat. “You’re telling me that I’ve been giving computer lessons to the founder of the biggest cyber-security firm on the continent?”

This time, Geralt actually looked a little sheepish. “I didn’t know how else to spend time with you. Yennefer thought I was being ridiculous.”

“You were,” Jaskier cut in hastily. “But I’m so glad. Though maybe next time you come to a library and want to chat me up, ask me about books and not computers?”

Not two days later, Jaskier was stacking books that had just come back in when he heard a familiar throat being cleared behind him. Geralt smiled at him as he picked up a random book from the shelf and clutched it. “I was hoping you’d be able to recommend something similar to this masterpiece? Maybe over lunch?”

Jaskier plucked the book on pregnancy exercises and diet from his hands and put it back on the shelf before smoothing his hands down Geralt’s chest with a grin.

“With pleasure. I take a break in ten. Meet you by the door.”

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #librarian jaskier #tldr: geralt is an idiot and will do many things for a date

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thatbloodymuggle · 4 years

Text

the one with the cheeto puffs

Tongue Tied (jj maybank) 2/?

masterlist

word count: 2.6k

warnings: cursing, drug use, mentions of death

read it on wattpad

playlist

If there's one thing you should know about Rosie, it's that she hates crying.

It made her feel weak. And she hated feeling weak. She especially refused to cry in front of others. Because once you've seen someone break down, it changes your view of them—intentional or not.

The last time she'd cried in front of her friends was in the 8th grade. JJ had shoved her off a boat and she cut her arm open on the blade of the motor. Granted, Rosie did cry February 14th as the life slowly left her mother's eyes. But she was alone then. And ever since, Rosie had come up with a routine to avoid crying at the thought of her loss.

When she felt her eyes beginning to water and her throat tightening, Rosie would pick up her least favorite book (one she'd stolen from a library a long time ago), Twilight. She'd divert her mind to Bella Swan's stupid life until she couldn't remember what she was upset about in the first place.

So it was no surprise when Rosie scrambled for the cursed book upon entering the house she hadn't been inside since the day her mother passed. She wasn't sure what had triggered it specifically: the dying vegetable garden her mom had worked so hard on, her mother's forgotten glasses on the kitchen counter, or just the overall feeling that something was missing. But sure enough, Rosie snatched the stolen book and flipped to a random page.

"Your scent is like a drug to me, like my own personal brand of heroin."

Rosie turned her nose up at the line.

"At least he's hot," she grumbled to herself.

The 17-year-old flipped mindlessly through a few more pages until she couldn't take it anymore. She thoughtfully placed the book in the front room of the small house, in case she'd need it again soon.

The four-room house felt odd. Rosie felt as if she didn't belong, despite having lived in it for nine years. She knew she would have to box up and clear out her mother's things at some point, but the thought weighed her down and made her long for her book again.

Rosie pushed the uneasiness to the back of her mind and set to finish her unpacking.

Before she knew it, it was already 8:00 PM and her stomach was rumbling. She'd have to go out and get groceries tomorrow, but until then she'd snack on something at John B's. The teenager quickly put a swimsuit on underneath her outfit and set out for the Chateau again.

The 3-minute drive was quick, and Rosie was glad to be out of the suffocating house. She pulled the Mini-Cooper into the familiar gravel driveway for the second time that day and killed the engine. Rosie skipped up to the front door and swung it open, not bothering to knock. She frowned at the empty room before her.

"Hello? Anybody home?" she called out.

Silence.

Rosie huffed and walked back out to the porch. She squinted her eyes into the distance, trying to catch sight of her missing friends.

"JB? Kie? Pope?" she paused, before adding, "JJ?"

Her yells echoed and she was met with a few moments of silence before a voice replied.

"Do you have to be so fucking loud?"

Rosie's head shot towards the source of the noise. Lo and behold, there sat JJ in the back of John B's van with the side door wide open. His arms draped along the back of the seats, and his legs were in a complete man-spread. He held up a silver lighter to the joint between his lips.

"Where'd everyone else go?" Rosie rolled her eyes and strode towards the van.

JJ shrugged, "Dunno. One minute I'm napping, the next they all leave me. Shitheads," he grumbled, discarding the lighter and taking a deep drag.

"Well, I'm starving. Gonna go make myself something to eat," she began to walk back towards the house but was stopped again.

"Unless you want a ketchup-on-moldy-bread sandwich, you're not finding anything in there," JJ watched in amusement as she huffed and kicked a rock in frustration. "The best thing you're gonna find is in here," he held his joint in his right hand a pulled a bag of Cheetos Puffs out from underneath his seat with his left. Rosie nearly ran forwards, but was stopped in her tracks.

"Ah ah ah," JJ pulled the bag out of her reach with an infuriating grin, "I can share but you have to be nice."

The girl cocked an eyebrow at him, "Can't make any promises, but I'll try."

Rosie didn't wait for his reply. She hopped into the van, slumped in the seat beside him, and ripped open the bag of chips. She didn't hesitate to shove a handful of the cheesy goodness into her mouth, moaning at the taste.

"Ay, keep your Cheeto dust off me," JJ made a show of wiping the crumbs that had fallen onto his lap.

Rosie ignored his protests and sucked the orange dust off her fingertips.

"Puff for a drag?"

JJ held up his joint to Rosie's lips while simultaneously snagging a couple of Cheeto puffs from the bag in her lap. She took a deep drag and nodded to signal she'd gotten enough, cueing him to pull his hand back.

Rosie began to cough violently at the tickling sensation in the back of her throat. Her eyes watered and she struggled to catch her breath.

"Gone for four months and it's like you've never smoked before," JJ smirked at the struggling girl, "thought you could handle yourself, Connolly."

"Shut up, I'm out of practice," Rosie croaked, forcing herself to settle down. "Here. Hit me," she sat crisscrossed and turned to face him.

JJ gave her a 'whatever you say' shrug and took another drag from the joint. He deeply inhaled, making a show of taking as much as he could. He turned to face Rosie with mischievous eyes. He leaned towards her and blew out the smoke. She leaned in, just inches away from his face, and inhaled the smoke emitting from his mouth. Rosie forced herself to take it all. The pair of teenagers were nose to nose.

A now foggy-minded JJ leaned back into his seat. Rosie held in his second-hand smoke for a moment. She formed her lips into a tight 'O' and blew it out in rings.

"Ay, she still has it," JJ laughed in a very dazed manner. Rosie couldn't help but giggle, the familiar foggy feeling taking over her as well. She slumped back into her seat beside him and rolled her head back.

"Told you 'M just out of practice," Rosie mumbled with a dopey grin.

JJ grated on her nerves 85% of the time, but she genuinely enjoyed moments like these. She liked not having to think every once in a while. It was refreshing. Sometimes (maybe more often than she should), she just wanted an escape. JJ was the only one of her friends who never questioned her motives. Rosie and JJ had an unspoken rule. If one was rolling a joint, the other always joined; no questions asked. I mean, two potheads are better than one. Right?

The pair of teenagers watched with hooded eyes as the smoke drifted from inside the van to the starry sky above. Rosie subconsciously let her head fall onto JJ's shoulder, who barely noticed. He was too busy focusing on how he could literally feel his toes tingling. They sat in relative silence for who knows how long, munching on Cheeto Puffs and running the joint out.

But too soon, they were pulled out of their comfortable silence.

"JJ, you better not be crossed. We could smell your weed from, like, a mile back," John B's voice penetrated the night air.

Rosie and JJ lazily turned their eyes to John B, Pope, and Kiara who were now standing outside the van. John B and Pope laughed at the sight of the two stoned teenagers.

"We've made the discovery of the century," JJ laughed with a lopsided grin, "Cheeto Puffs and kush are just a.. an...," his voice wandered, "they're an immaculate combination."

Rosie burst out in a fit of laughter, nearly rolling off of JJ who was quick the join in. Their three friends stared at them incredulously, but couldn't resist joining in their laughter.

"Why do you two idiots only get along when you're high?" Pope laughed, climbing into the backseat with them. Kie took the passenger seat while John B situated himself behind the wheel. He revved the engine and Rosie bounced in excitement.

"Oooh, Johnny where are you taking us?" she giggled. Suddenly, her face switched from dazed to serious. She grabbed JJ's bicep and turned him towards her so they locked eyes, "Oh my god, JJ! He's kidnapping us! He's gonna take us to the cops!"

The blond mimicked her concern and threw his arms in the air, "Stop the damn car, JB. We're not going anywhere with you!"

"Would you two shut up? We're going cliff diving, remember? And if you two don't sober up in the next ten minutes, you're gonna be watching us have fun from the top," Kiara laughed.

"Oh sorry, Kie! We'll be quiet now. Quiet as mouses—mices—mice—which one is it? Shit, JJ, I forgot which one," Rosie whispered to the boy next to her who merely covered her mouth with his hand and leaned back in his seat.

Pope dug out two water bottles from a cooler and handed them to the stoned teenagers. "Drink these."

Rosie fumbled around with the cap but did as he said. The next ten or so minutes were filled with mindless chatter between Kie, John B, and Pope while JJ and Rosie downed their waters.

"All right," John B pulled the van into an empty clearing about a hundred feet away from the edge of the cliff, "we're here."

The Pogues all piled out of the car, but JJ and Rosie were stopped by Kie.

"Not just yet, you two. You're not about to drop down 30 feet if you're not in your right minds."

The two began to protest, but she shut them up again.

"Follow my finger," she moved a finger from side to side, watching their bloodshot eyes struggle to keep up.

"You need more water. And ibuprofen. Here," she dug through her bag and pulled out a bottle of the painkillers. "Take two each," she shoved the pills in their hands and pulled out two more bottles of water. "And drink these. If you're better by the time we get back, we'll let you come with us second round."

She pushed her friends back inside the van and shut the door behind them. Rosie whined in protest, but her cries were ignored. She slumped back into her seat next to JJ and set to work downing her second water bottle instead.

JJ and Rosie sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping on their waters and listening to the muffled screams of their friends. The silence was broken, however, once Rosie had drinken about ¾ of the bottle.

"JJ, I need to pee so bad," she slapped his arm.

"No one's stopping you," he grumbled, nudging the girl off. He seemed to have almost completely come down from his high. Rosie, on the other hand, was only about halfway there.

"I need help," she cried.

JJ scoffed, "Fuck that, I'm not helping you pee. Do I look your bitch?"

"Please," Rosie drew out, tugging on his shirt. "Just help me get behind a tree. If I go alone I'm gonna get lost and then it'll be your fault for not helping me."

The boy groaned but reluctantly slid the door open. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards the wooded area a few yards away. Rosie struggled to keep up with his quick steps and ran into him when he came to an abrupt stop in front of a crowd of bushes.

"Make it quick," he let go of her and leaned against a nearby tree.

Rosie carefully made her way behind the covering, careful not to trip over any roots. She struggled to do her business and took much longer than necessary, much to JJ's displeasure.

"Finally," he sighed as she approached him. "Come on, I'm not missing the second round."

He led them back to the clearing. Just as they were about to exit the woody area, a devious smile creeped onto JJ's lips.

It all happened in slow motion. First, he stuck out his leg in front of Rosie. Then, Rosie shrieked as she tripped over it. Next thing she knew, she was lying face first in a pool of mud. JJ's booming laughter filled the area. Rosie pulled herself up in shock and wiped the mud from her face. Then, rage took over.

"What the fuck, you asshole!?" Rosie let out an ear-splitting scream.

At least she'd finally come down from her high.

JJ's laughter heightened, but was abruptly stopped once Rosie yanked his leg, causing him to slip and join her in the mud pile.

Now it was Rosie's turn to laugh, "You're a colossal idiot," she began to pull herself out of the mud, only to be pulled back down again.

Cue JJ's laughter, "Worth it."

And so they continued. Pulling each other down, back and forth in an endless cycle of wet mud and screams. They would've continued for hours if their friends hadn't shown up.

"What the hell?"

Kie, John B, and Pope started incredulously at the two idiots for the second time that night.

"She started it," JJ shoved Rosie's face down and jumped out of the mud.

"Liar!"

"Bitch"

"Well looks like you two are back to bickering again which can only mean you're sober. Good enough for me," Kie laughed and helped Rosie out of the mud. "Come on, let's go jump. The first round was amazing. The water was so warm."

The group of Pogues ran to the edge of the cliff. Rosie peered down at the soft waves below and grinned. She didn't hesitate to strip herself of her muddy clothing until she was only in a swimsuit. The five friends stood in a horizontal line and linked hands. Pope next to Kiara next to JJ next to John B next to Rosie. They braced themselves from the drop. John B began a countdown to jump.

"3... 2..."

"Here's to the best summer ever!" Kie cried.

"...1!"

The teenagers took off in sync. A chorus of cheerful screams filled the night air. The exhilaration was like no other as they crashed through the water and were submerged. The group of friends floated back up to the surface and swam to shore with adrenaline coursing through their veins.

Rosie couldn't wipe the smile off her face. This was her home. Doing stupid shit with her friends was her home. The Outer Banks was her home.

And she just knew Kie was right—this would be the best summer ever.

taglist:

@tangledinsparkles

and there's part 2!

feel free to message/pm me if you’d like to be added to the taglist

enjoy :)

#jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #jj x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #John b #John b routledge #kiara carrera #kie #pope #pope heyward #obx

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incmarauders · 4 years

Text

Hedric oneshot!

"I don’t know." Harry sighed, closing another dusty book that was supposed to help him. The second task was driving him insane and with every passing book he scanned, he would lose more hope of finding the answer.

"Harry, we can’t just give up!" Hermione stated, grabbing another book from the shelf. She glared at Ron who let out a light snore.

"Why not?"

Hermione turned to Harry, ready to give him a whole lecture on the importance of the second task, but right after she opened her mouth, Harry interrupted her:

"Hermione, if i get disqualified not only will hogwarts still have a chance, because of Cedric, i will also be free of this stupid-" he threw a book in front of him to the shelf, knocking some books in the process. "weight of my shoulders." He huffed, avoiding Hermione’s eyes.

She let out a sigh, nudging Ron. "Well i recommend you study a bit more. Dumbledore called Rom and me in his office so we need to leave anyways."

Ron let out a sloppy 'good night' to Harry before he left with Hermione. Harry groaned as soon as he heard the library door close.

He inhaled, stretching his arms as he reached for another book. His eyes weren’t processing the words on the yellowish pages because harry was constantly zooming out.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the library door open and close. He thought it was Madam Pince but it wasn’t her.

It was Cedric Diggory. The real Hogwar-

"Hey Harry!" He greeted Harry, sitting in a chair near him.

"I solved the problem so i thought you could use some help. I told Madam Pince i didn’t figure it out yet, even though i did." Cedric spoke in a tone slightly above a whisper.

Harry just nodded, the energy to reply gone.

Maybe an hour passed and Harry still couldn’t find the answer. He asked Cedric to tell him the solution but he said it would be too suspicious.

Cedric yawned, rubbing his eyes as he stood up. "Sorry Harry, it’s late and i need to go to sleep."

He let out a weak laugh, stretching his long arms.

"Can you stay a bit more?" Harry blurted out, suprised that he had the courage to ask him.

Harry’s heart was suddenly bumping louder than before. He didn’t know, Cedric, about his sexuality, did he?

"Uhm yeah, sure." Cedric glanced at the book that Harry was holding.

"I doubt Advanced Potions Guide will help you." He yawned again, smiling at Harry.

"Yeah, i just grabbed a random book of the shelf." Harry stood up, placing the book in its place on the shelf. Cedric brushed his shoulder and Harry felt the whole library was echoing with his unsteady heartbeats.

Cedric pulled him in a hug and harry froze. He wrapped his hands around his back so it didn’t get awkward, but he knew that if someone ripped his stomach out, it would be really awkward due to the butterflies hiding inside his body.

"Why’s that?" He let out a smile behind Cedric’s back, gripping his yellow sweater a bit harder.

"Harry, are you stupid?”

Cedric looked at Harry’s green eyes. He had totally forgotten they were in the library. He forgot the purpose they were even here. The only thing that mattered was Harry.

And who knew that the scrawny Hufflepuff boy could kiss so passionately.

Harry didnt actually mean to crash his lips onto Cedric’s, but since he didn’t deny it, Harry felt comfortable.

And thank Merlin Cedric was a master at privacy spells...

#hedric headcanon #hedric #harry x cedric #cedric x harry #hufflepuff #gryffindor #gryffinpuff #headcannon #textpost #oneshot #harrypotter #harry potter headcanons #harry potter oneshot #hedric oneshot #hogwarts #harry potter and the goblet of fire #this ship is so underrated #hedric rights #triwizard tournament

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velvetdestroya · 4 years

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A Vigil, On Birds and Glass. I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended. I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure- I made coffee. As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day. As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows. Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions. Smack. Smack. Smack! I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap. We cheered. I was no longer sad. I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would. It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth. I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death. The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you. So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty. Love. This was always my intent. My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013 We were spectacular. Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation. There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital- And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us- Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope. Fatalism. That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception. Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point. No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit. To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll. I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough). I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason- When it’s time, we stop. It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway. You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music. Now- There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor. There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets… I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy. We get the cue to hit the stage. The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong. I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade. All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say. What it said is between me and the voice. I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage. Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own. There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims- That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned? With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes. And another opens- This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle. A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device. He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it- “This amp talks.” he said. I smiled. We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home. When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles. I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton. He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say. In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you. I feel Love. I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with- Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod. Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing- My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you. I always knew that, and I think you did too. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. Love, Gerard

(Source Rock Sound March 25, 2013) [photo credit; ashley bird]

#mcr #my chemical romance #my chemical romance the end 2013 #geray way goodbye letter to fans 2013 #it is an idea #my chemical romance can never die #mcrmy #killjoys #gerard way

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