#I’m in my second official full reading of it right now and that’s what prompted this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mountttmase · 8 months ago

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Ok I'm here🤭 second read and feedback time 🩷

After a long day at nursery, Thea was out for the count. Snoozing away peacefully on the sofa with her favourite soft pink rabbit and once you knew she was fully out you went searching for Mason. He had to be here somewhere you just didn’t know where. OMG I LOVE THIS LITTLE GIRL🥹

If you were being honest with yourself, you felt a bit weird sneaking around the house like this. You’d only officially moved in with him three weeks ago so whilst this was technically your house now you still felt like you were snooping somehow. THEY ARE FINALLY ALL TOGETHER 😭

‘Please mate, it’s just one night. I promise I’ll make it up to you’ he told whoever it was quietly. ‘Thea hasn’t seen her uncle Lew in a month now and she misses you. You don’t want her to forget what you look like do you?’ AHHAHAHAHAH MASONNN DO YOU WANT TO GET RID OF YOUR BABY?😭😂

The fact of the matter was, he was right. Thea had been so excited about the three of you finally being one big family that she insisted on sleeping with the pair of you in the beginning. You let it slide for for the first two nights as her room was still being redecorated and you loved being all together but now Thea expected it and refused to go to sleep in her own room. GUYS NOT RIGHT CHOICE, SHE IS GOING TO SLEEP THERE FOR A LONG TIME NOW😂

‘Well maybe some other stuff when we get home’ he winked, causing you to giggle as you hid your face in his neck. ‘You know what it’s like at the start of a relationship, I just wanna be on you all the time and it’s difficult’ SILLY BOY🤭

Your first date was perfect, he took you to one of his favourite spots for dinner, his eyes practically hanging out of his head when he got a good look at you and after a night of constant flirting and laughing he walked you home and kissed you on your front doorstep. It felt like a fairy tale but dating your baby’s dad did come with its own set of challenges. OMG THE PERFECT DATE😭

Your sweet angel lighting up whenever he was around but you knew the goodbyes were getting tougher as their bond was growing deeper than ever. MY BABY GIRL😭

‘Before I go, I was just wondering if you were free next week? Thought you could come over and I’ll cook and maybe you could stay over if you want to?’ He asked, eyes full of nerves as he wasn’t sure if you were ready to stay the night and just as he thought, there was only one question falling from your lips. SCREAMING

‘Am I being too much?’ He whispered, your tummy sinking automatically at his tone and you wanted to reassure him straight away that he would never be too much. THIS MAN IS GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME

‘It’s okay, I’ve been waiting years for you. I can wait a little longer’ HE IS RIGHT 🤭

‘I mean, I’m no saint exactly. I had a dating app and stuff’ you told him, laughing at the way his jaw slightly dropped and a look of jealousy flashed in his eyes even stronger than before. HE IS JEALOUSSSSS

‘You had a boyfriend?’ He asked curiously, picking up on the way you specified it was only ever one man but you were afraid it had been nowhere near a boyfriend situation. HE IS FREAKING OUT

‘I’m so sorry’ he breathed, cupping your jaw gently but your look of confusion prompted him to carry on. ‘I’ve never really thought about it I guess but I bet there’s loads of stuff you’ve had to give up so I could have things my way’ OH BUT THATS SWEET

‘No it’s not’ he breathed. Kissing your forehead softly. ‘When you’re ready, I’m gonna look after you properly, okay?. WE HAVE NO DOUBTS

‘Hey don’t say that’ he teased. ‘You know how much I love her but if I don’t love you soon I’ll explode’ I GASPED

‘I know, I make sure she’s got the best bedroom out of all of us and she wants to spend every night in our bed. Just typical’ he scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. ‘I shouldn't moan really. Before all of this started, whenever Thea was with you and I’d have to walk past her room I could never look in properly. Like it hurt knowing she’s not here all the time and this wasn’t her proper room, it was just her room at her dads house. It's so empty when she wasn’t here’ THIS IS MAKING ME TOO EMOTIONAL

‘Hell yeah I do’ he laughed, grabbing you and pulling you further into his lap. ‘Best thing I ever did was asking you guys to move in’ GIGGLING CAUSE HE IS SO HAPPY🥹

‘Bun’ she managed to tell him when he’d finally stopped attacking her but the roll of Mason's eyes let you know he wasn’t happy with her choice. AHHAHAHAH THE MAN WANTED SOMETHING MORE DIFFICULT

‘What do we think, sweet pea? You want it to match yours?’ SWEET PEA🥹

‘Well how about instead of me reading it to you, you show me what happens? I’ve always been more of a visual learner’ he teased, hands dipping under the hem of your shirt so he could touch your waist and you shivered at the feeling knowing he was about to take care of you just how you liked. NAUGHTYYYY

Thea really was Mason's best friend and the pair of them stuck to their promise of getting up and making you breakfast for your first sleepover. SHE IS HIS BESTIE 🥹

‘We go home soon?’ She asked quietly, pulling her bunny up to her chest to hug it tightly. OHH😭🥺 NO BABY GIRL

Mason said he was only popping to the loo so when he still wasn’t back as you finished wiping the surfaces you went in search of him, finding him in the back room with his head propped up on his fists and his bottom lip jutting out and the sight made your heart sunk into your tummy. OH MY BOY IS SAD😭

‘I just… I love you guys and I want us all here together permanently soon but it doesn’t look hopeful if she’s asking when she can leave’ SHE JUST ASKED HER TO MOVE😭😂

‘Thea baby, will you come over here for me?’ You asked, watching her put her toys down and come over. Reaching up so Mason would sit her in his lap and the smile he gave her because she’d picked him made you melt. NOT HER GOING TO HIM EVEN IF Y/N CALLED HER 😭😭😭

‘My toys’ she pouted, her eyes filling with tears immediately and you knew you’d have to break it down for her a little more. In her mind your houses were two separate things and if you were leaving that house then you were leaving everything that came with it there too. OH BABY

‘No more bye bye’ I'M CRYING, NO MORE BYE BYE LOVE😭😭😭

‘Mummy, I like pink’’ OBVIOUSLY SHE LOVES PINK OUR PRINCESS

‘I can make it pink for you sweet pea’ Mason chimed in. Clearly wanting to do anything for Thea to make her more comfortable in his house. ‘Nanny and grandad are here this weekend and I’m sure grandad will help me paint it when I’m back from my game’ HE IS GOING TO PAINT IT😭

‘You know I’d do anything for Thea’ you heard Tony reply and it warmed you to know she had such a supportive network around her. ‘I’m really happy for you, you know that right? I know this is what you’ve always wanted and yes you went about it a different way to most but I’m so proud of you and y/n for figuring it all out. Thea is such a special girl and it’s all down to you two’ TONY🥺

‘You’ll have to sleep with us tonight baby, your room won’t be finished until tomorrow okay?’ You told her but she nodded excitedly. Y/N NOOO😂 SHELL BE THERE EVERY NIGHT

‘We can’t have her in our room forever I’ll go insane’ TRUE🤭😌

‘You're such a good mum’ he whispered. ‘There’s me practically chucking her out on the street just so I can have you. Just shows you what this body does to me’ DEAD😂😂

You were more turned on than you could ever remember being, feeling safe and content in Mason's arms as he loved on you but as soon as his fingers tried to travel up to your chest you felt yourself go stiff. OH SHE IS SCARED

‘Stop talking’ he interrupted, kissing you heavily before pulling back to look you in the eyes. His face serious, causing you to gulp heavily before he started to speak. ‘All that stuff that you think you have, doesn’t matter to me. I’ve loved you this whole time, do you really think I care if you’ve got a tummy now?’ I'LL MELT

‘You carried my baby, do you not know how sexy that is? Do you not realise how horrically turned on I am just by the fact I was the last person to have you and now I get to have you again? You're so bloody beautiful and all I've wanted to do is worship you, you know? Kiss every single inch of you so no I don’t give a fuck if you look different cause you’re still my girl’ he reassured you, the words making your eyes sting but his cheeky smile let you know he wasn’t done making you feel better. ‘I’ve changed too you know’ I'M SCREAMING

🤭🤭🤭🤭 THE TATTOOS MOMENT

‘You know, you’re not the only one who’s got new tattoos’ you smiled bashfully. Watching his eyebrows raise but his eyes darken and you knew he wanted to see it right away so you carefully peeled yourself away from and laid down slightly on your side. Thankfully he followed suit and laid next to you and you watched as his eyes followed your fingers as you pulled the hem of your shirt up to reveal the left side of your ribs. IT'S TIIIIIMMEEEEEEEEE

‘Sweet peas, Thea’s birth flower’ you told him. ‘It’s meant to look like a mother and a daughter, she’s the little one’ GIGGLING AT THIS CAUSE I KNEWWWW

‘For my girls’ he whispered and the lump in your throat kept you from speaking. ‘So Thea’s a sweetpea, yeah?’ SCREAMINGGGG

‘You know, I still remember how you like it’ he whispered, lips on your neck as he squeezed your waist and you could feel your insides quivering as he turned you on even further. His hands reaching round to grip your bum and you gasped before his lips landed on yours again, stealing the breath from your lungs. OMG🫠

‘Hey, it’s alright’ he whispered, reaching to the side to grab your shirt again before sitting you up and helping you put it back on but his lips were on yours before you could say anything back. ‘We don’t have do anything’ OMG HE IS GOING TO KILL ME

THE SMUT? HER DECIDING TO TURN THE LIGHTS ON? AND HER TAKING HER TOP OF CAUSE SHE FINALLY FEELS COMPLETELY SAFE TO BE WITH HIM?

‘Mummy!’ You suddenly heard being shouted from down the hall. Thea’s bounding steps following her shouts and you quickly jumped away from Mason just in time for her to find the pair of you. HI MISSY YOU WOKE UPPP

‘Well, here's one of them’ he smiled, placing the flowers on the side so he could pull you into his body and leave a heavy kiss on your lips. ‘You alright?’ OH I WANT FLOWERS TOO

‘Here you go, baby. Couldn’t leave you out huh? Got you some to match mummy’s’ he told her. Handing her the small but perfect bunch and you could have melted on the spot. Thea’s eyes going wide as she took them from him before she got shy and hid her face in his neck but you could see her smile from a mile away. OMG MY MAN😌

‘Got us our own place for the night. Thought we could make dinner together and chill for a bit like we used to’ he told you. Popping his hand on your thigh so he could give it a gentle squeeze and the coy smirk he sent your way made your insides flutter. HE IS THE PERFECT MAN

‘With how quick we managed to make Thea I’m surprised there's not another one on the way’ Mason joked suddenly, fingers tickling your sides and you had to hide your head in his neck before your mouth seemingly ran away with you. SILLYYY

‘I just wish I was around more, you know? Yeah it’s great getting to do the fun stuff but nothing makes me happier than the normal stuff. Like coming home to you two and seeing how happy Thea is to see me. Bed times and bath times every day like that’s the stuff I wanna do’ OH MY LOVE

‘When Thea had just been born and we were staying with you. Remember that night I just lost it? Like I completely broke down and thought I couldn’t do it?’ OH🥺

‘Hey, what’s going on?’ He asked sympathetically but you were in no state to answer him right now. Letting him pull the pair of you into his chest for some comfort and even though you were embarrassed you felt yourself relax knowing you weren’t on your own anymore. DADA IS HOME

‘Its okay, love. Come on, let's sit down’ he told you, walking you over to the bed and sitting next to you ‘pass her here, yeah?’ He whispered, taking Thea from you and resting her on his chest before tucking you under his other arm. ‘It’s alright, don’t get upset. I’m here to help now. What do you need?’ OMG HE IS SO SWEET

‘Exactly, I’ve been sitting on my arse for hours’ he joked. ‘Just let me take over for a bit and you can have a rest, okay? No arguments’ PERFECT DAD

‘Okay well if you need me at all just come and get me please? You’re not on your own remember’ he told you. Repositioning Thea so she was cradled in his arms before wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his side. BABY🥺

‘Y/n? Is everything okay?’ HE IS HERE

HE CALLED HER LOVE

‘If you’re worried about me seeing things, you know I’ve seen it all before right? That’s kinda why we’re sitting here with a crying baby’ he joked and you couldn't help but give him a smile but as you attempted to pass Thea over so Mason could feed her, but he stopped you in your tracks. ‘Keep hold of her, just move forward a bit’ I LOVE HIM

OMG THIS NURSING MOMENT WAS THE SWEETEST EVER

‘I’m good enough, Mase’ YOU REALLY ARE

‘I remember waking up next to you in the morning and you were so embarrassed’ Mason teased and and you rolled your eyes at him playfully. DON'T TEASEEE😂

‘Of course I did’ he laughed, but before you could say anything back he was back to being sweet. ‘But I loved you then, and I love you now and I told myself I’d always take care of you. If that’s what you needed back then, my shoulder to cry on, that’s what I was going to be’ OH CUTIE

OMG BESTIE

YOU ALREADY KNOW THAT THEY ARE MY FAVOURITE FAMILY (AT LEAST FOR NOW🤭)

I LOVED HOW YOU PUT FLASHBACKS IN THIS AND HOW YOU GAVE US A BIGGER PICTURE OF THEIR LIFE

I LOVED THE SMUT AND HOW GENTLE AND CARING HE WAS

I LOVED THE MOMENT WHEN THEY TALKED TO THEA ABOUT THE MOVING, BABY GIRL WAS SCARED OF LEAVING DADDY AGAIN🥺

I LOVED THE LAST PART ABOUT THE NURSING OMG IT WAS JUST SO SWEET AND LOVELY

THIS WAS PERFECT, CANT WAIT FOR NEW ADVENTURES WITH THEM🤭

THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR BLESSING ME WITH THIS EMOTIONAL WORK OF ART, IT WAS AN HONOUR BEING ABLE TO READ IT 🩷🩷🩷

Your feedback always makes my day 😌🩷

I’m so so happy you loved it and l love seeing your favourite parts cause they’re my favourite parts too 🤭

Baby Thea is an actual princess and I’m happy you love her 🩷🩷🩷

THANK YOU SO MUCH BESTIE LOVE YOU 🥰

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makeste · 3 years ago

Text

“but I thought about how I needed to say this”

a.k.a. yet another meta dissection of The Apology. I actually wrote most of this up on Friday night based on the original Japanese (@pikahlua has an excellent translation up here, and I also used @hanashimas’ translations as a reference as well), but I wanted to wait until the official release, though that turned out to be a mixed bag to say the least lol.

I would also recommend reading @pikahlua and @class1akids’ breakdowns of this scene (here and here, respectively), because they are excellent, and because if any scene deserves to have as many meta breakdowns written about it as possible, it’s this one.

anyway so here goes.

Caleb did a more accurate job with this than the fanscan, even if he did try his best to take us out of the seriousness of the moment by throwing in that swiss cheese line lol. anyway so there are two things I want to talk about here. the first is the line about Izuku not remembering, which I thought was a nice touch. of course he doesn’t remember what Kacchan said back then. he wasn’t exactly in the soundest emotional state after seeing one of the people he cares about most taking a near-fatal blow that was meant for him. I’d be shocked if he remembers anything about the aftermath (including the way he flew into a mindless rage afterwards) right up until the point when he entered the OFA Interstellar Party Void with Tomura. anyway, so I thought that was a nice callback.

and speaking of emotional states, the other thing I wanted to talk about is the part that Caleb got right which the fan scanlation didn’t. “but I had more to say.” in other words, “stop trying to win on your own” wasn’t just a one-liner; it was meant to be the beginning of a much longer speech. “there were other things that I needed to say.”

like, can we just stop and talk about that for a second. because basically what this means is that in that instant, when Kacchan pushed Deku out of the way and got impaled, his one and only thought was that he needed to apologize to Deku. his life was presumably flashing before his eyes, he had no idea if he was going to survive or not, and the only thing on his mind was how urgently he needed to make things right with his former childhood friend.

moving on!

so I have a confession to make, which is that I am relieved to see Katsuki describing this as the reason why he bullied Deku, as opposed to Horikoshi trying to retcon it into some sort of “secretly he was just trying to protect him and keep him out of harm’s way because he was worried” thing, which ngl would not have gelled very well with me. the thing is that I’m really not a fan of the whole “Kacchan Did Nothing Wrong” mentality that some fans seem to have. like, I have seen all sorts of convoluted attempts to find excuses for Katsuki’s shitty behavior, but in my view those attempts undermine what I love about his character in the first place. Katsuki is such a great character specifically because he is not perfect. his redemption arc is so compelling because he was such a giant asshole at the start. he was completely at fault, and he acknowledges this, and takes full responsibility for it. and that is fucking fantastic.

his arc is so great because it doesn’t rely on garnering sympathy by giving him a Tragic Past, or by trying to foist the blame for his behavior over on someone else. it’s an arc that acknowledges that redemption isn’t something you achieve by making people feel sorry for you; it’s something you have to earn by actively working to change and do better. and by forgoing the “misunderstood/tragic past” route, Horikoshi is making a statement that anyone can go down the wrong path, but that more importantly, anyone can also choose at any time to turn away from said path. there is only one requirement for doing so, and that is realizing that you’ve done wrong, and deciding that you want to change.

anyway, so in chapter 284 Kacchan of course had that whole speech about Deku not taking himself into account, and mentioned how that made him want to keep his distance. and a good chunk of fandom took this to mean that Katsuki’s bullying was actually a misguided response to Deku’s reckless tendencies -- sort of an “if I show him how weak and powerless he really is, I can get him to accept the reality that he’s quirkless, and that being a hero will just get him hurt or killed” type of thing. and I won’t lie, for a good while I was wondering myself if Horikoshi was really going to go down that route. and like I said, I am honestly relieved that he didn’t. not only for the reasons stated in the previous paragraph, but also because the message that would have sent -- that there are certain circumstances in which bullying can almost be excused because the bully had Good Intentions and was just trying to save the other person from themselves, and so it Wasn’t That Bad, Actually -- is all kinds of fucked up to say the least. so yeah, I’m glad we ended up steering well clear of that.

(ETA: this post was long enough already so I edited out the 3 additional paragraphs I originally wrote analyzing the dialogue from 284. but just to be clear, I’m not trying to imply that Kacchan worrying about Deku’s recklessness is a retconned thing that Horikoshi only threw into the story recently, because there are multiple instances throughout the story where he clearly is worried and in total denial of it. but I firmly believe those feelings are not what led to the bullying. they’re two separate things. Kacchan worrying about Deku is what prompts him to yell at him in chapter 1 when Deku comes to save him. but it’s not what incited him to burn his notebook and taunt him earlier in that same chapter. that action had a much meaner and more selfish motivation behind it, and I’m glad Horikoshi didn’t try to change it up last minute, because it wouldn’t have felt right.)

thankfully as of this chapter I think we can safely cross that out as a possibility, as we’re given the true explanation straight from Katsuki himself. and the truth is that he bullied Deku out of insecurity and jealousy and fear and intolerance. there was nothing noble about it. there were no good intentions concealed in his actions. there are no justifications given, no excuses offered, and no mitigating circumstances to be considered, other than the fact (which neither he nor Horikoshi bring up) that he was and is still a child, and that children make mistakes.

it’s an explanation that challenges many of fandom’s ideas on who is and isn’t eligible to be redeemed. there is no Ozai in Katsuki’s backstory. there’s no great tragedy that he spent a lifetime trying to rise above. the only villain in Katsuki’s story is Katsuki himself. the only darkness that he has to overcome is his own. and it’s challenging, because I think many people believe the only way someone can be redeemed for doing bad things is if bad things happen to them in return. but what Horikoshi is saying here is that that’s not the case. bad doesn’t erase bad. and the one and only way to truly earn redemption is by doing good.

and that’s what makes this such a phenomenal scene for me. by not shying away from Katsuki’s flaws and failings, and having him take full responsibility for them, Horikoshi keeps the apology from being self-serving, and underscores the true depth of Katsuki’s character development. the level of self-awareness he has here is something most people can only dream of. which is very fitting, as that’s perhaps the most important takeaway from his character arc -- that it’s only by acknowledging your own weaknesses and flaws that you can learn to overcome them and reach your full potential.

one last thing to point out here, which is that in the panel where Katsuki finally acknowledges his terrible treatment of Deku, Deku is not even visible. instead, Horikoshi drew the panel from a perspective that makes it appear that Katsuki is addressing this particular line not just to Deku, but to all of his classmates.

again, he shows him taking full responsibility and admitting his wrongdoings in front of the people whose opinions and approval he cares about most. and just to clarify in case there’s any confusion from Caleb’s translation, Kacchan’s wording makes it very clear that he wasn’t just “mean” to Deku, but that he full-on bullied him (he uses the same verb -- “ijimeru” (苛める) -- that he did back in chapter 284). there’s no attempt to downplay his actions here.

moving on now, this chapter also reaffirmed another thing about Deku and Kacchan’s relationship which I was glad to see revisited -- Kacchan’s unwavering belief in Deku’s ability. this is one of those paradoxical things about their relationship which I’ve always been fascinated by, but which is also kind of hard to explain, because I don’t want it to come off like I’m trying to put a positive spin on something which was unequivocally awful. like, please don’t think I’m trying to say that Katsuki’s bullying of Deku was in any way a good thing. but that being said, there’s also a strange irony at play here, which is that Katsuki’s jealousy and insecurity also betray the fact that even at his very worst, he never once underestimated Deku. he has always believed in Deku’s strength, even when that strength pissed him off and made him afraid and uneasy.

no one else -- not All Might, or even Deku’s own mom -- believed from the get-go that Deku could become a hero. but Katsuki never once counted him out, even when he was calling him a pebble in his shoe. he confesses here that even though he “tried to act superior by rejecting [Deku]”, in truth he was never able to shake the feeling that Deku was above him. long before he ever understood the concept of “win to save”, he knew instinctively that there was a strength in Deku’s heart that couldn’t be measured, and which had the potential to surpass even his own strength. and I’ve always felt that this was so important, because it’s the one aspect of their early relationship that hinted that on some level, however subconscious, Katsuki held the same type of faith in Deku that Deku always held in him. it was one of the few things that hinted at there being a possible path towards reconciliation one day. and it paved the way for the most important shift in their relationship to date, when Katsuki finally realized who Deku got his quirk from, and responded not with resentment or spite, but with acceptance.

moving on, I also really love the way we see them portrayed at the different stages of their childhood throughout this speech, and how it perfectly lines up with the dialogue. from small children (when Katsuki talks about his insecurities first manifesting), to middle schoolers (when he talks about the bullying), to high schoolers (when he talks about the past year and everything he’s learned at U.A.). Horikoshi really didn’t have to go that hard, but he did, and that’s why we love him.

and then we finally get to That Part.

where do I even start with this there are so many things omg.

the bow. this is the one and only time Katsuki has ever bowed to anyone of his own volition as far as I recall. and this absolutely is a bow, just to be clear, even though his form is straight-up garbage (very Kacchan-esque, with his feet and arms spaced apart because he’s still a punk after all). this is Kacchan showing more humility and respect than he’s ever shown to anyone else in his entire life.

regarding “Izuku”, I actually have mixed feelings about this to tell the truth. I think it was a good call here because it was incredibly effective in setting the tone and showing just how serious Kacchan is. however if he continues to use “Izuku” rather than “Deku” from here on out, that would give the impression in hindsight that all his past usage of “Deku” really was meant as an insult, which would undermine some of my favorite scenes. I would really like to believe that since DvK2 or thereabouts, Kacchan has (mostly) been using “Deku (affectionate)” rather than “Deku (useless loser)”, lol. but if he switches to the “nicer” name on a permanent basis following his apology, it implies that the previous nickname was indeed being used cruelly. and so honestly I hope this was just a one-time thing, because I do think that in Katsuki’s mind, the name “Deku” hasn’t been meant as a slight to him for a long time now.

“my truth/this is what I truly feel” -- the word Katsuki uses in Japanese is honne (本音), and if you’re familiar with the concept of honne/tatemae, that’s the same “honne” he’s talking about here. it means that he’s casting aside all of his walls and facades and expressing what he truly feels. and of course, one of the fascinating things about Katsuki’s character is that he’s the exact opposite of most people in that he chooses to put his meanness on full display to the public, and ironically it’s the kindest parts of himself which he tends to keep the most carefully guarded and hidden away. this also means that while his rage and anger are very often insincere and put on just for show, those relatively few occasions where he lets his humanity truly shine through are pretty much 100% genuine, as is the case with this one here.

and Deku’s face says it all when it comes to how powerful those moments can be as a result.

and this, right here, is why it wasn’t enough for Katsuki to atone solely through his actions, and why he needed to actually say the words as well. it’s not that the words are more important; obviously the actions are far and away the most important part, and carry far more meaning. but the reason why Katsuki needed to say the words as well is simply because Izuku needed to hear them. needed to, and deserved to, because this is one of the most important people in the world to him.

and so he deserves to know that the relationship isn’t just one-sided, and that he is just as important to Kacchan as Kacchan is to him. he deserves to know that Kacchan understands how horribly he treated him, and that he’s sorry for it. and he deserves to know that Kacchan, without any expectation of it changing their relationship -- meaning that he will continue to feel this way regardless of what Izuku says or does from here on out -- cares about him. now more than ever, with AFO out there doing everything in his power to make Izuku feel as alone as possible, this is something that he really, really needed to hear.

so this part has some interesting wordplay which neither Caleb’s translation nor the fan scanlation was really able to get across. basically, in the Japanese version, when Katsuki talks about “those ideals”, Horikoshi uses the kanji for “ideal”, but pronounces it as “All Might.” obviously the meaning of this isn’t too hard to decipher, as we all know how much both boys admire All Might. to them, he absolutely is synonymous with the Ideal. so this is a way of showing that respect they both have towards him, even as Katsuki goes on to point out the one fatal flaw that All Might was never able to overcome.

and speaking of interesting wording, as others have noted, at this point in his speech Katsuki switches from “temee” (which he was using earlier during the “your strengths and my weaknesses” part) to “omae” (“omae” being a less insulting word for “you”, though still very manly and tough-sounding), which is definitely a big deal. though fwiw this is not the first time he’s used “omae” for Deku (he switches to it briefly right after DvK2, when he tells Deku “you had the strongest guy lay the groundwork for you -- don’t lose”, and then later when they’re walking back to the dorms and he says he’ll learn and get stronger by watching everyone around him just like Deku did). it’s definitely a good choice on Horikoshi’s part though, as it makes this last part of the speech sound more earnest and sincere.

just a quick note, he does indeed use a plural pronoun here, as in “the obstacles that you can’t overcome, we will overcome.” but as @pikahlua pointed out, the “we” here is ambiguous -- it could either mean “we” as in class 1-A -- “we will overcome them for you” -- OR it could mean “we” as in all of them -- class 1-A and Deku. “we will overcome them together.” idk about you, but I know which one gets my vote.

anyway, and so this is the line that finally wins Deku over and allows him to let go of his fears, however briefly. what I love about this is Kacchan’s utter conviction. one thing that Caleb’s translation doesn’t quite get across is Kacchan’s use of the word morenaku -- “without exception” -- when he talks about how they’re going to save everyone and win. it echoes that same sentiment he showed back during the Joint Training arc -- that it’s not a perfect victory unless they save everyone. every last person. and he explicitly lists Deku among their number, just so there can be no doubt.

and Deku’s response to this (or at least his thoughts, since he’s not really able to get many words out) pretty much brings everything full circle here.

he acknowledges that everyone else has gotten ahead of him. which is especially meaningful given who he’s standing directly across from. because for most of the series, as we all well know, it’s been Kacchan who was woefully lagging behind Deku in the character growth department. but now Deku himself is acknowledging that not only has Kacchan finally caught up at last, but that he and the others have surpassed him. which is only temporary, I should add, as I have zero doubt that Deku will catch up again soon. but the fact remains that just as Deku’s rapid increase in strength and skill left Kacchan scrambling to keep up earlier in the series, Kacchan’s extraordinary character development has now left Deku in that same position. as All Might once put it, “when he’s starting at level one, and you’re already at level 50, it’s only natural that you’ll be growing at different rates.”

and what’s so wonderful about this though is that the two of them are finally approaching that point where they’ve both caught up to each other and are finally starting to level out. Deku is a full-on badass, and Kacchan is out here talk-no-jutsuing with the best of them. the two of them have been chasing and chasing after each other this entire time, and now they’re finally just about ready to meet in the middle at long last, with each of them fully embodying both of those two crucial aspects -- win, and save.

just about. because Deku still needs some help catching up. but seeing as help has already been offered -- and accepted -- I can’t imagine it will be very long now, and I can’t wait to see him finally overcoming those fears and doubts with his friends by his side. it’s going to be such a powerful moment.

and last but not least,

or, as I prefer,

you had one job, Caleb. flkjsdlk.

but at least this provides a good opportunity to note that unlike the “we’ll help you handle it” line earlier in the speech, here the phrasing is left up to interpretation, as he doesn’t use a pronoun. so it could be “we know”, or, as the fan scanlation put it, “I know.” or it could be both. regardless, it’s good stuff.

anyway, and so Deku passes out, and in the process Horikoshi gives us one last parting metaphor, just in case anyone still thinks Kacchan is all talk because they haven’t been paying attention for the past 322 chapters (more likely than you think). once again, Katsuki’s actions speak louder than his words (even his nice words) ever could: he is literally there to catch Deku when he falls.

so that’s it! my sincere thanks to anyone who actually read through all of my endless ramblings about this scene which I have been waiting for since day one. props to Horikoshi for taking on an impossibly difficult task, and pulling it off with all of the emotion and care and nuance that I’ve come to expect from his writing. imo he delivered on every single level with the exception of the aftermath, which I don’t consider to have actually happened yet. Deku’s part of this is definitely a “to be continued.” but yeah, as far as Kacchan’s part goes, 10/10. so fucking proud of this kid.

#bnha 322 #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #bnha meta #bakugou meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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homoose · 4 years ago

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Quick Learner, Slow Lover: Part II

Summary: Literally just a 40 Year Old Virgin AU. This time, reader shows Spencer a whole new world of possibilities.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut, 18 + (minors DNI)

Warnings/Includes: oral (both receiving), fingering, I think that’s it actually

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: Huge thanks to all the babies on my sideblog @softspence for helping with the inspiration for this one, and @gubetube for being my beta! ♥️ virgin!Spence is near and dear to my heart.

Series Masterlist

———

After their first escapade, Spencer was called away on a case in southern California. A week into the BAU’s investigation in the desert didn’t have them any closer to solving it, and the team retreated to their respective hotel rooms for a few hours of rest. The second his head hit the pillow, Spencer’s phone was out and dialing.

She picked up on the third ring, stifling a yawn. “Hi.”

“Hi. Sorry it’s so late,” he apologized.

“It’s okay.” He could hear her snuggling down under the covers. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” He brought one of the hotel pillows closer, cuddling up against it and letting out a sigh. “I was thinking we could go to that new restaurant around the corner from you when I get back to DC.”

“Mmm, yeah, that sounds nice,” she agreed. He heard her sigh a little into the phone, then she continued, “We could also, um— try some more things.”

His head was constantly full of their first night together, and he basically had not stopped thinking about more things since he’d come in his pants on the couch. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good, because the possibilities are endless, Dr. Reid.”

He let his eyes close, let a smile play over his features, and let his mind relax for a second… and then his eyes were shooting open, and his brain was on overdrive, running through the pieces of the case in rapid succession. “I— I think I just figured something out. I— I have to go. I’ll— can I call you later?”

She laughed a little on the other end. “Go save some lives, Spence.”

The team stumbled off the jet less than 24 hours later, exhausted but more than satisfied with the outcome of the case— in large part thanks to Spencer’s late night epiphany.

“O’Keefe’s for a round?” Luke asked. “First one’s on me.”

There were murmurs of agreement from everyone... except Spencer. “Sorry, guys— rain check,” he called, already halfway across the bullpen and pulling on his jacket. He was through the double doors before anyone could ask any questions.

He loved the team, and he’d come to enjoy nights out with them, but right now he had more pressing matters to deal with. As he navigated the darkened streets of DC, he considered the predicament he’d found himself in. They were going on two months of official dating, but they’d been sort of seeing each other for nearly a month before that.

Even before he’d met her, Penelope had gushed about her constantly— a wonderful friend that she’d made through her new job, kind and smart and funny and lovely. What Penelope hadn’t mentioned was how beautiful she was— and he’d subsequently made a fool of himself when they first met: staring and stumbling over his words.

She hadn’t seemed to mind, and over the course of the evening, she’d proven to be every bit as lovely as Penelope had described, and then some.

He pulled up outside her apartment, shutting the door and hauling himself and his go-bag out of the car and up the sidewalk. He ran a slightly self conscious hand over his hair, checked his appearance in the glass of the foyer door, and then buzzed her apartment.

She buzzed him in, and he took the stairs two at a time, rounding the landing just to see her opening the door. The second he dropped his bag, he was wrapping her up in a hug and knocking the breath out of her. She expelled the air into his shoulder and then laughed as he clung to her.

“Well, hello to you, too,” she teased.

“I missed you,” he murmured, too content to be embarrassed.

Her arms came around him, and she squeezed him tight in response. “I missed you, too.” She held onto him for a moment longer before pulling back. “You must be exhausted. Are you hungry?”

Almost as if on cue, his stomach growled loud enough for them both to hear it. She cackled at his sheepish smile. “Chinese, Indian, or pizza?”

…

An hour later, they were two slices deep and cuddled together on the couch at the end of an episode of Dr. Who. She was tucked under his arm, her warm palm low on his tummy, her thumb rubbing a slow, repetitive path. As the credits rolled, she lifted her head to smile at him. “Tired?”

“A little.” His brain couldn’t focus on anything other than the warmth of her body pressed up against him, her hand so close to where he was desperate for her. He wanted her, but he didn’t know how to ask. “We can… try some things, though,” he decided on.

She brushed his hair back and met his eyes. “We don’t have to. Just because we did, doesn’t mean we’re obligated to every time we’re together.” She tilted her head. “You know that, right?”

He could feel the flush flooding his cheeks immediately, and he dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course.” Of course she didn’t want to do anything more with him. He was probably terrible at it before, and she just didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He shifted to stand from the couch, gathering up their plates and turning to bring them to the kitchen, desperate for a minute to collect himself.

He could feel her eyes on him. “Spence?” He set the plates in the sink, taking a deep breath and then turning to see that she’d followed him. She pressed her lips together, considering him with kind eyes. “You wanna let me in on whatever it is you’re thinking?”

He hesitated, tapping his fingers on the tops of his thighs, before deciding he should just come out with it. “I know I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to… sex.” The last part came out in a low murmur— it seemed lewd to discuss this in the middle of her kitchen. “I’m sorry it wasn’t very good for you, and I’m not exactly sure how to fix that, but—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she chuckled. “Slow your roll. When did I ever say it wasn’t good for me?”

The memory of her— in his lap, her head thrown back, his fingers on her, his name falling from her lips— was suddenly on repeat in his mind. “I, um— I guess you didn’t.”

“I definitely didn’t,” she confirmed, stepping a little closer. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about it… a lot.”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline. “You have?”

“Mmhmm.” She brought her hand back to his tummy, just above his waistband, then ran it up the line of buttons on his shirt, stopping just above his heart. She met his gaze with soft eyes. “I just didn’t want you to think that— that sex is all I want to do with you. Or that you have to rush to make me happy. And it’s important that you know that if you’re tired, or overwhelmed, or just not in the mood, I don’t— you know, expect you to have sex with me.”

His heart leapt into his throat at the way she curled her fingers in his collar, the way she smiled quietly while he collected his thoughts, the way she gave him grace and space to consider his wants and needs. He was dangerously in love already, and he wasn’t sure quite how to say it without being the stupid virgin who fell in love with the first person he slept with.

And even with all of these thoughts of content and love and uncertainty swirling through his brain… he still really wanted to fuck her.

“I’m not that tired,” he breathed.

Her smile turned mischievous, and he swallowed audibly. “Well, then. We can start working through those possibilities?”

He was on her before she even finished the question, his mouth hot and hungry, his tongue sliding against hers, his hands on her waist and steering her toward her bedroom. She grinned as he trailed kisses down her throat and then where her t-shirt cut low along her collarbone. She turned them as they made it to the bed and pushed him to sit, breaking his mouth away from where it had been sucking a pretty pink mark.

She dropped to her knees and ran a firm hand over his cock through his trousers. He was wholly and completely unprepared for the sight of her looking up at him from in between his legs, and he momentarily forgot any and all plans he’d had. She paused to push her hair back out of her face, and he came to his senses.

“Wait.” She looked up at him, slightly confused. “I wanted to, um—”

When he didn’t continue, she tilted her head with an encouraging smile. “You wanted to what?”

“I wanted to, um— eat you out,” he said, and he could feel the flush in his ears. “Before. Because I get kind of sleepy after I come, and I— well, I can already tell I’m not gonna last long once you start, um…”

“Blowing you?” she prompted, and now she was just teasing him.

“Y-yeah.” He ran a nervous hand down his neck. “Is that okay?”

She stood up and stepped closer into his space, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head back slightly. “Well, that depends. Did you read up on the literature?”

He returned her teasing smile, already more at ease. “You know I did.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back to pull her shirt up over her head. She smirked at the way his eyes went wide and traveled over her form. His mouth dropped open as he tracked her hands, running down over her bare chest, her torso, and then to the waistband of her sweatpants. She pushed the pants down over her hips and let them pool at her feet, stepping out and back in between his legs. “So, what did the experts say?”

He swallowed audibly as she brought his hands to her chest. “Well, um,” he started, palms cupping her breasts. “Um, firstly— start slow. And vary— vary your attention,” he said, squeezing them lightly and brushing his thumbs over her hardened nipples.

He looked up at her face for guidance, and she smiled. “Then by all means— give me all the attention.”

He leaned forward immediately, tongue and teeth sucking and grazing and nipping at the soft skin of her breasts. He alternated between the two, drew each nipple into his mouth and moaned a little around them at the way she gasped when his teeth dragged on her skin. Her hands found purchase in his curls, tangling and tugging and holding him against her. He brought a hand down to her waist and pulled her in closer, slid his palm over her lace-covered ass and dug his fingers in, eliciting a very pretty sound from her throat.

He pressed his mouth once more to the valley in between her breasts, then stood and brought his hands to her face, leaning down to meet her in a soft kiss. He turned to have her sit back on the bed, and she stretched out over the pillows and pulled him down over her. He kissed her again, and then dragged his mouth down the column of her throat.

“Secondly,” he continued, “work your way down.” He did just that, his lips and tongue drawing out goosebumps and shivers as he moved down her body. When he reached the waistband of her underwear, he hooked his fingers into it, and she lifted her hips to allow him to pull them down her legs.

He started a path back up her legs, kissing her ankles, her shins, her knees. He ghosted his fingers over her thigh, silently asking for permission to continue. She let her legs fall open, and he made himself comfortable in between them. The reality hit him then— that as she opened her legs, she also opened herself up to him— all the most vulnerable and precious parts of her. His breath caught in his throat as he found her gaze on him, soft and sweet and steady.

He turned his head to kiss a path along her inner thigh, moving closer and closer to her center. He fanned his warm breath over her, and then he licked carefully around the hood of her clit, gentle at first. He flattened his tongue on either side of it, then pointed it to flick across once, twice, three times. Her hand immediately came down to tangle in his hair, and her hips twitched as he dragged his tongue flat over it.

“I don’t really understand the phenomenon of men being unable to find the clitoris,” he remarked, and then closed his mouth around it.

She let out a long, low moan when he sucked it between his lips, and her grip on his hair tightened. He alternated the suction with the swirl of his tongue around the hood, and she squirmed against the bed. He laid his forearm low across her hips to keep her still, and then he brought his thumb up to swipe at her entrance, and he moaned around her at the feel.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he breathed. He brought his thumb, slick with her arousal, up to her clit and rubbed firm circles over it. “How’s that for pressure? Too hard?”

“N-no, oh— Spence, oh my god,” she whined.

“Do you prefer to rub side to side or in a circle?” He demonstrated each option, and she choked out his name again.

She drew in a shaky inhale, exhaled out, “Both, both, both.”

He sucked an open mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, then looked up to see her staring at him. “Do you like penetration? Or just clitoral stimulation?” he asked, stroking his thumb side to side over her clit.

She huffed out a breath. “You— god, you can finger me.”

He popped his index finger into his mouth, slicking it with spit and thinking of everything he’d read about it. He teased the pad of his finger around her slit, gathering up the wetness that had spilled out of her. “I’ll start with one? Make sure it’s slicked up, and then you can tell me if you’d like me to add another?”

She hummed in agreement, and he began to press inside of her. She took his finger easily, and he dropped his forehead to her thigh. “God, you’re— you’re so tight.” He withdrew his finger and then slipped it back in, groaning at the slickness. “Can you, um— can you tell me if this is— is this doing anything for you?” He probed gently, searching for the spot inside her that he knew might actually be difficult to find.

“Um— up, up,” she gasped. “Like, curl it up toward the ceiling and then sort of dra-a-a-g, oh, oh, oh.”

He followed her directions, curling his finger up and dragging it on the out stroke, and she was throwing her head back with a moan of his name. He repeated the motion over and over and then brought his mouth back to her clit. Both her hands came down to yank at his hair, and he groaned, causing her hips to jerk against his mouth.

“M-more, Spence, more, so close,” she whined.

When he withdrew his finger, he slipped a second one in beside it and then continued the curl-drag-thrust pattern while sucking and swirling his tongue around her clit. Her moans increased in frequency and volume, and he felt her squeeze impossibly tight around his fingers. He rutted into the bed as her grip on his hair held him still against her clit as she came.

She let out a final gasp of his name, and then she relaxed around him and her grip on his hair went slack. He slipped his fingers out of her, stared at them in relative awe as they glistened with her come. He sucked them into his mouth to clean them off, relatively surprised by how much he enjoyed the taste. He leaned forward and dragged his tongue over her, cleaning her up and savoring the way she lingered in his mouth.

“Shit, Spence,” she mumbled, grasping at his shoulder. “C’mere.”

He lifted his head and wiped his forearm across his chin. He watched her eyes go a little wide, and then she was dragging him up her body and crashing their mouths together. “You are so fucking hot,” she whispered. “I cannot believe you’ve never done that before. Such a good listener, baby.”

His hips canted forward desperately at the praise, and she sighed happily against his mouth. “Wanna blow you.”

She pushed gently at his chest and he sat back to let her up. She slid off the bed and tugged on his hand to move him to sit with his legs off the side. “Can we take some things off?” she asked, gesturing to his fully clothed form.

He nodded, and she popped the button on his trousers while he started on the button up. They made quick work of both, and she dragged his pants and underwear down in one motion. He shrugged out of his shirt and she took a step back to take him in.

“You’re so pretty, Spence.” She dragged her finger up from his knee, over his thigh, the trail of hair on his tummy, his chest, his throat— her eyes tracking the motion. He watched her face as she did so, the way her pupils dilated with lust and her tongue came out to wet her lips. She finally settled on his face, smiling and leaning forward to press her lips to his.

When she broke the kiss, she brought both hands up to cradle his face. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. If anything doesn’t feel good, just say so. You can put your hands on my head, pull my hair, whatever you like. If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

“Okay,” he rasped.

She kissed him again, and then dropped to her knees and took him in hand. The vision of her— naked, post-orgasm, looking up at him with his cock poised at her mouth— was so absolutely and gloriously filthy that he almost came on the spot.

“You’re so big, Spence.” The wonderment seeped into her voice, and he couldn’t help but swell a little with pride. Her warm palm stroked over him, root to tip, and he fisted his hands in the duvet. “What was step one again?” she asked.

“Um. S-start slow,” he recalled.

She hummed in agreement, and then trailed the fingers of her free hand over the inside of his thigh. She turned her mouth to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to the other, slowly inching up closer to where she held him in her hand.

“Your skin is soft,” she murmured. Her nose brushing against the crease of this thigh. She switched sides, moved his cock into her other hand to trail her fingers over where her mouth had been. She sucked a mark into his thigh and then dragged her tongue over it, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

And then she shifted back to the center, flattened her tongue, and ran it up the vein on the underside of his cock. “Oh my god,” he whispered.

She huffed out a laugh and the way her warm breath cooled the trail of spit she’d left had him shivering. “God, this is gonna be so fun,” she murmured.

She held his cock up straight with one hand and repeated the motion of her tongue twice more, and then pressed a kiss to the tip. She held her tongue out flat and rubbed it along the underside of the head, running it along the divide between the tip and the shaft. And then she closed her mouth around the head and swirled her tongue around it, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Fuck, Y/N.” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets, and then he felt her free hand tug at his fist. He opened his eyes as she guided his fingers into her hair. She locked eyes with him and then sucked gently on the tip of his cock. He fisted his hand and tugged, and she closed her eyes and moaned around him.

The vibration of her voice had his hips thrusting forward a little into her mouth, and she pulled back with a grin. He couldn’t even form the words to apologize before she was licking down his shaft and murmuring, “Mm, and vary the attention, right?”

With that, she laved her tongue over his balls, slicking them up with her spit. He realized he’d been holding his breath, sucking in a gasp as she sucked one of them into her mouth. She hummed around it and then let it out with a soft pop, moving to draw the other one in. He hadn’t even considered that he would enjoy having his balls in her mouth, but now that they were there he knew he’d literally never stop thinking about it.

She pulled back to take a breath, bringing a hand up to cup and massage his balls and stroke over his length at the same time. “Step two?” she prompted, looking up at him from in between his legs.

“Work your way down,” he reminded her, petting over her hair in awe.

“Ah, yes.” She brought her mouth back to the tip, sticking out her tongue and rubbing it along the sensitive spot just under the head. She kept her mouth open and held him in hand, alternating between wet kisses and swirling her tongue. And then she sucked it into her mouth, still moving her tongue back and forth as she started to sink further down his length.

In his mind, he was singing her praises from the metaphorical rooftops, but in reality, her mouth was so hot and wet that all he could do was stare stupidly at the way his cock disappeared between her lips. She continued to massage his slick balls in her free hand as she took him in, inch by inch. Each time she pulled back to suckle the head, she stroked the circle of her other hand over the spit-covered length of him.

On the next pass down, he felt the head of his cock press into the back of her throat, and his hands shot to her hair, holding tight. “Holy shit, Y/N, I—” he choked on the rest of the sentence as she took him an inch further, then simultaneously sucked and pulled back to the tip.

She tapped the tip of his cock to her spit-slick smile, kissing it teasingly. “Do you wanna tell me what to do?”

“M-more of that,” he begged, watching as she dragged her lips down the side of his cock.

She chuckled, and the way it buzzed against the side of his cock had him short of breath. “Yeah— I thought you’d like that.” She pumped his length with her hand and then held her tongue out flat, bobbing her head until he hit the back of her throat.

When she pulled back, he watched a trail of spit drip down her chin, and felt his cock twitch at the idea of her quite literally drooling over him. He barely resisted the urge to pinch his thigh, not willing to wake himself up if this was actually a dream. He brought a hand to her chin and used his thumb to gather the spit, and then brought it up to suck it into his mouth.

Her mouth dropped open as she watched him swallow, and he briefly began to panic, but then she was surging upward to slot her mouth over his in a hot kiss. “How is everything you do so fucking hot?” she murmured against his lips.

“I could say the same for you,” he countered, kissing her again.

“I want you to come in my mouth, okay?” she asked.

He nodded vigorously. “Shit, yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t hold back,” she demanded, and then she was dropping back down to take him in again.

She left her mouth open, tongue laid flat, and took him into her throat— once, twice, three times. She choked around him and then pulled back to take a breath. She repeated this pattern again, and again, occasionally sucking on the head or even grazing her teeth just so. Spencer held her head between his hands, staring down at her with reverence. He couldn’t stop the litany of praise falling from his lips— mostly just gasps and moans of her name, but occasionally he found the mental capacity for so beautiful, or perfect mouth, or so good, baby.

He could feel his orgasm drawing closer with every press into her throat, so incredibly tight that it was dizzying. She pulled all the way off to jerk his cock, a tight circle of her fingers gliding along his length with a squelching sound. She squeezed the base of him, dropped her hand to tug at his balls, and sunk her mouth down his length, holding him in her throat and swallowing, moaning low and long around him.

She looked up at him then, and it was that which finally brought him over the edge— not that she was on her knees with his cock in her throat, but that she didn’t look away as he came undone. The fact that she was paying such close attention to him coupled with the trust and vulnerability required for this moment was too much to handle. His orgasm hit him like a train, his toes curling and fingers twitching in her hair as he came. She continued swallowing around him, and he fought to keep his eyes open, not willing to miss a single second of this moment.

When he was finished, she slowly drew back, sucking gently along his softening length and pressing a kiss to the head. He did close his eyes then, cradling her head in his hands and rubbing his thumbs along her cheeks. She used his thighs as leverage to pull herself up, and he heard her suck in a sharp breath. His eyes shot open to see her rubbing at her knees— red and a little raw.

“I’m sorry, I should have— I could have gotten you a pillow.” He pulled her closer and replaced her hands with his own, soothing the marks.

She laughed and brushed a reassuring hand over his hair. “Occupational hazard.”

The scratchy rasp of her voice had his cock twitching. “I know I don’t have anything to compare it to, but you’re unbelievably good at that.”

She brought her hands to his face, tilting it up to meet his eyes. “You’re not the only one who reads the literature.”

Her even tone and steady gaze proved she wasn’t teasing or mocking, and he fell just a little bit deeper in love. He met her halfway in a kiss that was infinitely and luminously sweet and wondered just what in the world he was going to do about that.

———

Permanent tags: @spacedikut @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855 @sapphic-prentiss @rexorangecouny @rainsong01 @blameitonthenight21 @moviequeen51 @90spumkin @reniescarlett @ncsls0515 @daybabyx @sturmmhond @takeyourleap-of-faith @saspencereid @calm-and-doctor @reidtheprettyboy @atabigail @ayo-cowbelly @muffin-cup @ssa-natalya-reid @wheelsup @reidingmelodies @this-is-gublerween @s1utformgg @reidemandweep @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @luwheezey @joalsglasses @je-suis-prest-rachel @dr-omalley @spencie-adams @honestimanormalfan @blurryreid

Series tags: @cielo1984 @dorotheuh @foreveryoungxx3 @happyreid187 @harrystylesholland @seasonfivereid @slut4spencie @kyomito

Broken tags: @radtwinkie

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid

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theladyofdeath · 3 years ago

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 12}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

* In case you missed the announcement - we will now be posting chapters 3 days a week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. We hope you continue to enjoy the story!

** Trigger warning: Miscarriage.

This chapter is legit a roller coaster, ngl. Enjoy. ;)

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Nesta stood in the living room of Elain’s house with Nyx on her hip, feeling guilty for dropping Nyx off for the night even though Elain was the one to offer.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Gives these little cousins some bonding time.” She reached out and took Nyx’s chubby little hand. “Besides, you and Cassian both need time to recoup.”

She wasn’t about to deny that. It had been a week since her not-date with Balthazar, a week since she and Cassian had uttered more than passing comments on how Nyx had acted throughout the day to each other.

Every time she looked at him, she found him already watching her and the fact got under her skin.

It became an unspoken thing that whenever she cooked dinner, she would make an extra helping and put it in the fridge for him. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because it made her feel better about their awkward arrangement. The longer time went on, the more she realized that as much as she’d been acting like taking care of Nyx together was a death sentence to her social life, he was going through the same thing.

And when she got home, she planned on making dinner for the two of them to share together. A sort of white flag of truce between them.

It was the least she could do. “Call me the second something happens-.”

“We’ll be fine,” Elain said, taking Nyx from Nesta and kissing her sister’s cheek. “Now, go. Relax. Take a bubble bath with some wine or something. Read one of those filthy books you used to hide in your closet.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed.

Elain’s smile widened.

After a tough goodbye, Nesta was heading toward her car and driving back home, making a quick stop at the grocery store just around the corner.

She quickly got all of her fixins, prepared to make one of her favorites - salmon, rice, and green beans. A glance at the calendar that morning told her he would probably be home around five, which gave her just under two hours to make dinner. Easily doable, she’d made three-course meals in less time, for much harsher customers.

Yet she couldn’t figure out why her stomach was in knots.

When Cassian came home, he opened the front door and froze. The quiet in the house unnerved him. Usually, there was some random white noise to fill the house, whether that was the television or one of Nyx’s inane toys that distracted him so well. But as he walked through the house, the TV wasn’t on and he couldn’t hear much of anything.

Until he heard a throat clear from the kitchen.

Instantly, Cassian was on alert, not liking the sound at all, recognizing who it had belonged to, but silently, he made his way into the kitchen.

Nesta was sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her, with an identical one at the spot he typically sat in.

“What’s…going on?” He asked, slowly taking another few steps into the kitchen.

Nesta stood and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, before taking it back over to where he hovered between the table and the doorway. She held the cold bottle out to him. “This is a truce.”

“A tru-?” He took it, but shook his head, not quite understanding her. “Where’s Nyx?”

“He is having a sleepover with Seph, Elain and Azriel. Elain wanted us to have a night off,” she said, sitting back down at her seat. “So I made us dinner.”

“You made us dinner?” he repeated, staring at the plates. “For the two of us to have? Together? At the same table?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, unless you don’t want it.”

Cassian cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out across from her and popped open his beer. “I won’t turn down free food. Especially when it’s made by an expert.”

Nesta said nothing more as she cut into her salmon. “An expert?”

“You get paid for cooking,” Cassian said, picking up his fork and collecting a pile of green beans. “That makes you an expert. A professional.”

“This is a lot of compliments,” she said, watching him carefully as he ate.

“Maybe I’m jumping on board with this whole truce thing,” he said, mouth full of food.

Nesta wanted to chastise him about his manners, but bit her tongue. “You weren’t on board with it to begin with?”

He chewed slowly and then set his fork down. “Neither of us have…handled this very well,” he admitted, taking a drink from his beer. “And I’m willing to take a portion of the blame, but not all of it.”

Nesta weighed his words carefully. They were blunt, but not untrue. Sure, he’d acted like an ass many times, but she had only responded in kind. She knew she could be a bitch, and she knew she did it well. Sometimes too well.

“For this to be an official truce,” she began, holding her wine glass in her hand, swirling it once, twice, “there has to be terms we both agree on.” His eyebrows raised, but she pressed on before he could speak. “Mine are that we have to communicate. When you get frustrated or pissed at me, you can’t just bottle everything up until it all explodes. And when I get overwhelmed, I promise not to snap at you or act like such a…”

“A bitch?” He provided, when she stumbled over her words, smiling around the beer bottle pressed to his lips.

She wasn’t able to stop the smile growing on her own face, as she said, “Thank you, asshole. But yes. Those are my terms.”

He took a drink and nodded. “Okay. I think I can handle those.”

“And what are your terms?” She asked, cutting into the flaky fish for another bite.

He was quiet for a moment, debating. Nesta took a sip from her wine glass while she waited, watching as thought after thought passed across his face.

“I want to get to know you,” he said, finally. “I want to know who you are and I want you to know me.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side. It was a simple request, but Nesta wasn’t exactly good at allowing people to get to know rher. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

“A simple conversation will do,” he said, shrugging. “Over salmon and alcohol. Mostly alcohol.” He reached across the small table and picked up her wine bottle, filling up her wine glass to the brim.

“Getting me drunk so that I open up?” Nesta asked, sipping from that wine glass.

Cassian chuckled. “I would never.”

She watched her for a second, before taking another larger drink and setting it down. “Fine. Then it’s a truce.” He smirked, glancing over the table between them and then leaned over to look on the counter. “What?”

“I’m just looking for an official notice.” His smirk grew into an all out grin. “Something to sign. I figured you’d called up Tarquin and had some official documents written up.”

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, reaching an open hand across the table.

“Truce,” he said, taking her hand in his. They shook once, and Cassian was struck by how much smaller her hand was than his, yet by how firm her grip was. It was an impressive, professional handshake.

“So what do you want to know?” She asked, scooping some rice onto her fork and getting a bite of fish to go along with it.

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it and she began to wonder whether they should have laid down some boundaries. But he asked, “You went to the University of Velaris, right? What did you study there?”

Nesta blinked in surprise, not having expected the question. “Business and marketing.”

Chewing slowly, Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing culinary?”

She shook her head. “No, I liked cooking, but I never thought it would become my career. I majored in business and marketing, with a minor in communications.”

“That sounds…” He fought for the words for a second. “Boring.”

Taking a drink of her wine, Nesta chuckled. “Oh, it was,” she admitted. “The longest four years of my life, but I’ve got the pretty, little diploma with my name written on it to show for them.”

“And how did you learn about food? How to cook?”

She shrugged. “I taught myself. I graduated college and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a data entry job at a marketing firm and spent my free time in the kitchen, trying and testing and tasting.” She paused, and her eyes fell to her plate. “Before my dad died, he listened to my idea about starting a small restaurant, with a few of my favorite recipes on the menu. He left me the money to do it in his will.”

“And now?” he pressed, although his voice held a certain gentleness. “Are you successful and thriving?”

Nesta snorted. “I make enough to live and pay the few of servers I have. If that’s successful, then I suppose.”

Cassian nodded in appreciation. “I’d say it is. What about the future? Bigger restaurant? Multiple restaurants?”

“Someday,” Nesta said, with a longing in her voice. “And what about you? And your guitars? Surely you don’t want to be a bartender forever.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t mind the bartending. Good tips and I meet a lot of interesting people.”

“But?” Nesta asked.

“But,” Cassian repeated, huffing a laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t exactly say that managing a bar is my passion.”

“So, guitars then?” Nesta asked, brow raised. “You’re really talented. Your guitars are beautiful.”

Cassian’s eyes shot to hers, wide as he slowly set down his fork. “Holy shit, did you just compliment me?”

Nesta’s lips pursed as she kicked his shin under the table.

“I’ve always been good with my hands. Not like that,” he said, pointing at her when he saw the smirk growing. “I mean, creating things, playing instruments, even something as mundane as making drinks. If it’s something I can do with my hands, I typically love it and nine times out of ten, I’m good at it.” There was none of the cockiness she’d come to know in his voice. Just pure explanation, and a bit of devotion. “I’ve tried my hand at making furniture and little knickknacks, but there’s nothing that compares to building an instrument from scratch.”

“And you do it all? Yourself?” She asked, taking another bite.

He nodded. “I start with a few rough pieces of wood. Sand it, stain it, and boom, brand new guitar.”

Snorting, she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I think you may have missed a few steps in there.”

“Well, I didn’t want to bore you,” he chuckled.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Nesta asked, finishing off the last of her food.

Cassian took a minute to think about it, then shrugged, finishing off his beer. “As long as I can remember. I grew up with my mom in Illyria. They live simply up there. Music is…a way of life. It grew on me quickly. Mom bought me my first guitar that a friend of hers had made before I could even walk.”

Nesta chuckled, quietly. “Just like you did for Nyx.”

Cassian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her emptied glass.

“Sure,” she said. “But, wine is gone. I think there’s some tequila in the cabinet.”

Cassian lifted a brow as he rose. “Tequila?”

Nesta grinned as he went to the cabinet. “Make me a drink, bartender?”

Cassian laughed as he grabbed the glass bottle from the cabinet. “I can. What’ll it be? Tequila sunrise? Margarita? Pretty sure we have some lime juice, somewhere.”

“I’m not picky,” Nesta promised.

She heard him laugh. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Archeron.”

“Only where it counts,” she replied, smiling at him. She picked up their empty plates and rinsed them off, loading them into the dishwasher. Turning, she found him setting a shot glass with salt on the rim down on the counter. She chuckled. “That’s not what I asked for.”

“First of all, you technically didn’t ask for anything in particular,” he said, pointing at her as he crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Secondly, this is the most classic drink I can make you with tequila. It’s the oldest recipe in the books.”

She outright laughed. “That’s cause it’s just straight tequila.”

“Exactly,” he grinned and damn it, if her heart didn’t skip a beat. “I lied, no lime juice.”

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if I’m doing sloppy shots, you’re joining me.”

“Oh, I never say no to shots,” he said, grabbing another from the cabinet.

He filled them up, and slid one to Nesta, who took the glass in her hand and held it up.

Cassian clinked his against hers, and they tossed them back.

Nesta’s face didn’t change a bit, and Cassian met her steady eyes. “Impressive.”

“Not my first tequila shot, Nazari,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter. “What else do you want to ask me?”

He leaned down on the countertop, letting his arms lay flat. “Hmm.” He let his fingers drum quietly. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Or was it always a chef?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I was convinced I was going to be a doctor, I wanted to help people. But then I found out how many years of school was required to be a doctor. So I decided I wanted to be a nurse.”

Cassian carefully poured a couple more shots. “And what happened to that dream?”

“I found out that the sight of blood makes me queasy. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I pass out.”

He laughed. “That seems like enough to throw off a career plan.”

“Yep,” she admitted, picking her wine glass up.

Cassian filled up the shot glasses, once more, and slid hers back to her. She set down her wine glass and snorted as she tossed it back.

“You know what we should do?” Nesta asked, and Cassian lifted a brow in question. “Go for a swim. We’ve been here over a month and have yet to use the pool that I’ve been cleaning, daily.”

Cassian took his shot before watching her, closely. “Last one in has to share their deepest, darkest secret.”

Nesta scoffed. “What are we, children?”

Cassian grinned as he pushed himself back from the counter. “Scared of a little competition? Afraid to lose?”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nesta jumped off the counter, and ran up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit.

Cassian and his heavy footsteps were close behind.

It took her a few minutes to remember where her swimsuits had been packed, and from the slamming of drawers down the hall, it seemed Cassian was in a similar predicament. She finally found a two piece stuffed in the back of her underwear drawer, not exactly what she had been looking for, and hesitated before stripping down and pulling the bottoms on. Nesta was out her bedroom door before she even had the top fully tied, pulling it into a hastily tied bow behind her back. Her feet carried her as she flew down the stairs, but she froze when she opened the sliding glass door and found him already in the water.

He grinned from where he had his muscular arms resting on the side of the pool, and his hair was soaked, pushed back off of his face. With the wide smile on his face, he looked so much younger, almost boyish.

With a sigh, Nesta turned and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers in each hand and made her way back onto the lit up patio.

“I win,” he said, smirking up at her.

The tongue she stuck out at him wasn’t her most quick witted response, but she was trying not to let her eyes drift beneath the water. When she suggested the pool, she hadn’t been thinking of how much skin would be on display, for either of them.

“That’s because you only had one piece to put on,” Nesta said, sitting near him by the edge and handing him a drink.

“Hey, if you only wanted to put on one of those pieces, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he protested, and Nesta had to hide the way his suggestive tone, those words, made her blush.

He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he popped open his beer and took a long, slow drink.

“So how about that secret?” He asked, voice lowering.

“Hmmm,” she crooned, tapping her chin. “Which to share when I have so many to choose from?”

Cassian chuckled. “You would have an endless string of secrets. Come on, what skeletons are in your closet? Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

Nesta had a lot of those, too. She wasn’t exactly the “open” type.

There was one true secret she kept though. One that no one else had known, not even Feyre or Elain. Just her and…

She hesitated and he looked up at her, caught the look on her face. “What?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to kill the mood.”

The hand holding the bottle was right next to her thigh, and he let his pinky skim over her skin. “That kind of secret, huh?”

She gnawed into her lip, nodding.

“I’ll tell you mine, if it helps,” Cassian said, looking up into her face.

She slipped into the pool, thankful the water was warm, and shook her head. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

He stayed quiet, letting her process her own thoughts.

Sinking beneath the water, Nesta re-emerged, slicking her hair back. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m sure you remember Tomas, my ex who interrupted our date?”

The mention of their date surprised Cassian, after so many weeks of them dancing around it. He nodded.

“We were together for a long time, you know? All through college.” She wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t meet his eye. “I got pregnant just after our senior year. I had never wanted kids, you know? Wasn't the family type, at all. Never saw myself having a family. Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter. I miscarried.”

Cassian continued to look at her, continued to watch as she stared blankly ahead.

“I got excited about it, too, which is ridiculous,” she went on. “For a moment, for those few weeks that I thought Tomas and I would be starting a family… I actually got excited.”

“How far along were you?” He asked, gently.

She answered immediately, with no hesitation. “Thirteen weeks. It was like one day I was pregnant, carrying our child and the next… The baby was gone.” She was quiet for a moment. “I woke up one morning and there was blood, so much blood. Tom was already at work, so I drove myself to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”

Cassian recognized the slow blinking, knew she was reliving those slow, sad moments again.

“I was dying inside, trying to come to terms with the fact that our baby was gone, and Tomas got home and-.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “He asked what I was making for dinner. He didn’t even acknowledge that our child was gone and… l guess that’s when I decided to do the same. To pretend nothing happened. We didn’t really talk much about it. We never told our families, I never told Feyre or Elain. Our father died about a month later and it all seemed so insignificant at that point. But Tom and I never recovered, our relationship at least. We broke up a few months later and…” Nesta shrugged. “Life kept going. I decided to open my restaurant and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, quietly.

She finally looked at him and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful of a memory,” he countered.

She just nodded. “It’s how it was supposed to be though, right? Wasn't meant to be.”

Cassian took another drink as he nodded, slowly.

“Anyway,” she began, clearing her throat before dunking herself back down under the water.

“Would you like my secret?” He asked, when she turned and rested her arms on the edge of the pool.

She shrugged. “If you feel so inclined. You didn’t lose the bet.”

He leaned back, letting his arms drape across the edge of the pool as well. “When I was eighteen, I broke my back. I decided to take a year off before I started school, and was working construction over the summer to save money. I wanted to travel for a while. But then I took a bad fall off a roof. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then was stuck in my bed for another ten. And Rhys and Az stayed by my side the whole time. They put off their last hoorah vacations before they went off to college to stay with me.”

Nesta’s eyes drifted to Cassian, drops falling from her lashes. “Doesn’t seem like a secret if people know about it.”

“You didn’t know,” he shot back.

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fair. That sounds awful.”

“It was,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t like to stay still for very long.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Nesta said, a little spark returning to her eye. “It was torture,” he followed, finishing off his drink. “Not being able to move. I played so many damn board games that I never want to look at one ever again.”

“Even if Nyx asks?” Nesta inquired.

Cassian gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s the exception.” Nesta laughed, and Cassian shook his head. “I’d do anything for that kid. I think Rhys knew that, when he named me godfather.”

She understood that, related to it completely. Especially considering they had been named godparents together, regardless of their mutual distaste for the other. Their love for Nyx, for Rhys and Feyre, had been evident to everyone.

“I miss him,” she admitted, resting her cheek on the concrete. “I know it’s only one night, and I’m beyond appreciative, but… It’s weird not having him right inside.”

He nodded. “I get it. I do, too. I know Az and Elain can take care of him, and I’m sure he had a blast with Seph before they went to bed, but it hasn’t stopped me worrying about him.”

Nesta nodded, stretching her back. She took a drink from her beer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?”

He blew out a harsh breath and drained his own bottle before answering. “I never really considered it much, when I was younger. After my back healed, I was so focused on getting back to life that relationships and dating weren’t high on my priority list-.”

“But fucking was?” Nesta asked, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly with a shoulder. “Maybe I was interested in sex more than relationships, I’ll admit. But before I knew it, my early twenties had come and gone. Everyone I knew was getting married and had babies on the way and… I was still the one living the bachelor life and decided to just run with it.”

“I get that,” Nesta agreed. “After…everything that happened with Tomas, I never wanted that again. My date with you and my date with Balthazar are the only two proper dates I’ve been on since college.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “And have you been on any improper dates?”

Nesta didn’t answer. Instead, her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she finished off her beer.

Cassian’s grin widened. “I never knew you were such a freak, Archeron.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered, which just made him laugh harder.

“I must admit, it’s nice to hear you talking about our infamous date so often tonight,” Cassian said, pulling himself out of the pool.

Nesta couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed, how the drops of water streamed down his back, between his shoulders, down to his waistline and the swim trunks, which rode low on his hips. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t say anything nice about that date, did I?”

“Absolutely not, but is there really anything nice to say?” he asked, sliding the screen door open. “I mean, you were an absolute nightmare.”

She gawked after him as he went inside, and once he came back with a small pyramid of beer cans, Nesta said, “I was a nightmare? You were a complete disaster!”

He scoffed, setting the cans down and cannon balling back into the pool. Even though she was already in the water, Nesta couldn’t help the squeal that left her. Cassian was grinning when he came up for air. “I forgot my wallet. I fully intended to pay you back, both monetarily and with the best sex you’d ever had in your life, but you decided to get huffy, stomp back to your front door and slam it in my face.”

“Oh, please,” Nesta said, reaching for a can and popping it’s top. Foam erupted from the opening and she put her mouth to it before it could drip into the pool. “You were over twenty minutes late, you wore work boots and a leather jacket to the nicest restaurant in Velaris, and we ran into your fuck buddy.” She drank deeply from the can, emptying it in one go. “As for the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I’ve become very accustomed to and am just fine with my own hand, so you’re going to have to try pretty hard to do better than I myself can.”

She wiggled her fingers in his face and before she could register what was happening, his hand was wrapped around her own. As if he didn’t already know that. Cassian had caught her getting herself off in the bathtub, a memory that was seared into both of their heads. He tugged her closer and the empty can fell from her hands, floating on top of the water.

“I was talking about the past, sweetheart, but you seem to be talking about the present,” he breathed as her chest brushed against his own. “Who says my offer still stands all these years later?”

“You’d be a fool not to make that offer,” she breathed, and she knew the scent of beer was all he was breathing in.

“And would you accept it if I were?” he asked, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other snaking its way around her waist. “Still offering?”

Nesta’s breath hitched as their mouths grew so close, too close, close enough to reach out and taste his lips with a brush of her tongue.

It was tempting.

It would be stupid. Alcohol fogging her brain or not, Nesta knew it would be stupid.

But it was tempting, and in that moment, there were very few things Nesta could think about other than his hands against her skin, his lips a breadth width away from her own, and his cock she could very prominently feel twitching against her thigh.

Nesta’s lips brushed softly against his as she said, “Try and find out.”

#nessian #snacmc #snacmc lawki #modern au #lawki #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acosf

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iwritefandomimagines · 3 years ago

Text

EMILY PRENTISS x READER: Figure it out

masterlist

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!reader

description: you and prentiss had gotten on like a house on fire since day one, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed how often you flirted. but the question on everyone’s lips, including your own, was just how serious was it?

warnings: cursing & kissing

Emily Prentiss’ hand was no stranger to your leg. It so often settled in the space between your knee and your upper thigh, casually and as though it belonged there.

At this point, you hardly even noticed the contact.

There were a lot of aspects of your relationship with Emily that you’d have questioned with anyone else, but everything with her just felt comfortable and right.

She was gorgeous, and entirely your type.

But you’d never had that conversation about your sexualities, so you weren’t sure whether it was just flirty girly closeness or... something more. You really hoped it was the latter.

You spent all of your time together, even on nights out, so it wasn’t like you saw her with anyone romantically or anything. You couldn’t figure it out.

You were currently sat at a table in a busy bar, after a long day solving a difficult case. The whole of the team surrounded you, but it was like you and Emily were in an entirely different world to the others as you sipped at your drinks and giggled amongst yourselves.

“I’m going to go and get a drink, Em,” you whispered, seeing as everyone else had not long been up to the bar for another, “Do you want anything?”

She bit her lip, glancing at her empty cup and nodding, “Yes please... Don’t be long, though,” she winked. You smirked in return, taking her cup from her hand but letting your fingers linger for a little longer than usual, “I’d never keep a girl like you waiting, hm.”

As you sauntered over to the bar, Penelope turned to Emily with a devilish grin on her face, “Have you two finally made things official, yet?”

Emily scoffed, “What? Me and Y/N?”

Penelope rolled her eyes, “Of course I mean you two. You can’t ever keep your hands off each other... I can’t believe you haven’t just admitted your feelings yet, hun.”

Emily looked confused, her eyes trailing up to where you stood at the bar awkwardly waiting to be served.

“I don’t even think she likes girls?” she pouted, knowing full well that if she was certain that you did, she’d have taken the plunge and kissed you a long, long time ago. But she’d assumed it was just that you were just being friendly. Well, extra friendly, she supposed.

“She so does, Em. She told me about her last ex girlfriend... Make your move,” Penelope nudged Emily’s side, glancing up at you now too as a man sauntered to your side and placed his hand on your waist, “Before you’re beaten to it, sunshine.”

Almost without a thought, Prentiss rose to her feet and strode over to where you stood shy and uncomfortable under the touch of the total stranger who’d so boldly decided to touch you.

“Y/N, babe,” she slid the man’s hand off of you, replacing it with her own and collecting the drink you had just bought for her, “Thank you for the drink.”

The entire team’s eyes were trained closely on the interaction as you went wide eyed, tingling beneath her gentle touch. This jealous, possessive side of Emily was undeniably hot, even if you didn’t quite understand it right now.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you picked up your drink now too, slinking your other arm around Emily as you turned to leave the bar. She shot the man a dirty look, eyeing him up and down distastefully, “Sorry, dude. Me and my gorgeous girlfriend are gonna go get some fresh air.”

You were practically winded by her use of the word girlfriend, but you played along and followed her to the door that led to the bar’s smoking area.

“Girlfriend?” you raised your eyebrow as you felt the fresh air wash over you.

Emily looked nervous for a moment, as if she regretted her actions. She was scared she’d misread your reciprocation of her attraction to you, but the glint in your eye told her different, even so.

“Sorry... That creep was-” but you cut her off with a forceful kiss, your free hand pulling her close to you by her waist, “I like the sound of that, coming from you.”

Emily looked stunned for a moment, before dipping her head to kiss you again as if to test the waters.

When you pulled back again, she was silent for a brief second before explaining herself, “Garcia told me you like girls because I’ve been trying to figure it out for the longest time... If you did or not. I didn’t know if flirting with me was just a friendly joke or something.”

“I want to call you an idiot for not noticing that I’m crazy about you,” you laughed, “But I’ve been in the exact same dilemma for ages, Em. I’ve thought about kissing you so many fucking times, I was just scared of crossing a line.”

Emily’s hands tangled in your hair, pushing you towards the wall of the smoking area as her lips found yours again. It was like this was fate, like kissing her was exactly what you were made for. The moment was perfect, and you kissed back just as passionately as butterflies invaded your stomach.

“I’m crazy about you too, Y/N,” Emily heaved out a sigh, biting back a smirk as she looked at your smudged lipstick and messy hair that she caused, “Have been this whole time. And when you walked in in that dress? I think I lost my mind. Then that asshole came over to you and-”

“Jealousy is hot on you, Em,” you licked your lips, teasing, “You storming over and calling me your girlfriend? Definitely a contender for top ten moments of my life.”

She blushed, before immediately resuming a confident demeanour and cupping your face in her palm, “I can say it for real, if you’d like that. My girlfriend. My girlfriend... Y/N, my girlfriend.”

“I could listen to you say that forever, Em,” you beamed, peppering kisses across her face, “I’d like that... Being your girlfriend. Emily Prentiss’ girlfriend...”

Emily pulled you closer to her, shifting so that you were side by side but her arm was tightly wrapped around you, “Thank fuck. Now we should probably get back inside before the team worry, and before I suggest that we say fuck tonight and go back to mine.”

“We could do both.... Go say goodbye to them and do the latter?” you teased, eyes tracing her body from head to toe.

Emily thought about your words for a moment, before nodding swiftly and chugging a large amount of her drink, “Let’s go, girlfriend.”

“I’m never gonna get tired of hearing you call me that, y’know,” you kissed the corner of her mouth, “C’mon baby, let’s go.”

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thank u for reading, as ever !! I hope you enjoyed this, feel free to request more if you’d like -- I'm writing as much as possible at the moment. here is my prompt list and, if you’d like to read more of my stuff, here is my masterlist!

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

Note

If you are doing them the soulmate fic starter 3 or 9 for rexwalker? I love all your star wars stuff so much

soulmate au prompts

3. the one where you and your soulmate have matching marks on your bodies. 9. the one where your soulmate’s last words to you are written on your body.

Featuring marginally-less-terrible Jango with more excuses than usual.

------

The Kaminoans hate soul marks.

Rex knows this from the day he knows to ask. The Nulls and Alphas don’t have any soul marks, just scars where there was once a promise. The eldest clones have records, at least, where the scientists had taken photos before beginning th surgeries, but the marks themselves are long gone.

Prime had found out about the removals and thrown a fit, raging so intensely that Nala Se had ended up intubated from the damage he’d dealt, and she hadn’t been the only one. Rex isn’t old enough to remember that, but Cody is, and he whispers the story in the dead of night more than once. Nobody likes Prime very much, except Boba, but that’s one of the few instances they can point to and say ‘he cares more than he likes to admit.’

It’s anathema on Mandalore, one brother claims, a light in his eyes that Rex hasn’t ever seen before. That’s what I heard him telling one of the aruetti trainers.

So is refusing your children so much as a name, another grouses, and the conversation dies an ugly little death. So is letting your children die just because you don’t think they’re good enough. So is turning your back from even letting them be part of your house, let alone part of your clan. Sounds like he cares more about our soul marks than he does for our lives.

Rex doesn’t know how to address that. He does get a personal visit from Prime, one day, gets asked to show his little marking to the man that is, in some ways, his father.

“Another one,” Jango Fett mutters to the trainer that came with him, the woman holding a datapad and ready to record whatever it is that they’re looking for. He passes a thumb over the marking, frowning. “A lightsaber, lit white, with pale blue halo, between a set of symbolic Jaig eyes. The eyes are dark blue, slightly desaturated. I think they’re meant to frame it like an exaggerated beskad crossguard.”

“Sir?” Rex asks.

“That makes six,” Jango says, still so quiet, and then shakes his head. “Thank you for showing me, 7567.”

“Rex,” he corrects, before he can second-guess himself. “I’m Rex.”

“Thank you, Rex.”

------

The rumors say that anyone with a lightsaber soul mark is going to have a jedi for a soulmate.

Rex isn’t sure how true that is, but he’s eager to find out.

Prime gets more erratic, more unpleasant at times and almost awkwardly nice at others. Rex meets the others who got Jedi soul marks. He’s the youngest, so far.

Jango tells them all to hide the markings, and to keep them secret. They’d already all known that much, that only batchmates should be told about soul marks. All the adults that should know already do, after all.

“Where’s your dad going?” Rex asks once, when Boba’s been handed over to Cody’s squad for looking after while Prime goes haring off on some trip that nobody gets to know about. Rex hangs out with Cody’s squad more than his own batch, it feels like, but that’s a whole thing that he’s not supposed to talk about since the late transfer to command track.

“Dunno,” Boba says, kicking his feet back and forth. “My soul mark came in. Something about it made him really angry, I think.”

Rex doesn’t ask to see it.

It’s not his place.

------

The Alpha batch is getting quieter, angrier, and end up in hushed conversations with Prime and some of the trainers so often that the rumors start up harder than before. Rex keeps his head down, because the Kaminoans get antsier when Jango does. Soul marks come up more often, and Rex gets called in to talk to the Alpha clones about his mark. He’s not supposed to, but Prime says it’s important, and Prime is in charge.

“Oh, is that all it took?” one of the Alphas sneers, and Prime shoots them a look that has Rex taking a few hasty steps back. The Alpha clone isn’t even fully grown yet, by natborn standards, but they don’t back down. “What, ready to stop being a dar’buir--”

“That’s enough,” Prime says, low and hard, and the Alpha clone rolls their eyes. “There’s a child here.”

“So now you care about that?”

Rex is escorted back to his rooms.

------

Decommissioning finally stops, for all that it requires Jango almost decapitating a Kaminoan, and someone Rex hopes he never sees again shows up.

(His memory is blurred. He’s sure the man was human, and tall. Elderly enough to have white hair, probably? A... there was fabric that swished when he turned, something dramatic, but...)

(He is not the only one that cannot remember.)

It takes years for anything else to come of it all... at least where the clones can see.

------

Rex is fully grown, as far as clones go. His aging is supposed to slow down to ‘natborn normal’ now, because he’s reached his full height and most of his brainpower, and he’s officially old enough to fight on the field if the war starts tomorrow.

It might.

“Hey, look up.”

Rex listens, and looks, and sees a natborn with Nala Se, pale skinned and with reddish hair, soaked to the bone. They wear robes, brown and heavy-looking. Even as he watches, another natborn jogs up from behind, also sodden and pale, but with darker hair that sticks up despite the water. A third joins them, a tad slower and more controlled; this one wears all white, and they--maybe she?-- are slight and small and poised in a way that Rex thinks might be how a natborn leader carries themselves, if they aren’t a soldier.

They pass on through the walkway, showing emotions that the Kaminoans can’t read and the clones absolutely can. None of it is... good.

“Shit,” someone mutters. “That was a Jedi.”

“Venn--”

“What if they don’t want us?”

------

Rex is called to Prime’s rooms.

He tries not to look at the wide eyes of the brothers he’s been gossiping with, just stands and pulls on his full kit. He hesitates at his bucket, but then pops it on and marches to what might be his doom. It’s probably not.

He hopes it’s not.

He knocks, and is let in by Boba, and sits down on the couch when Prime tells him to. He removes his helmet when asked. Boba hops up onto the couch between Rex and his father, and leans in against Rex’s side.

There’s a list on the table, one he recognizes, quickly writing out all the paired elements on the Jedi-Clone soul marks. Nobody who isn’t already involved in the project would know it. He spots the ‘yellow tickets’ that Bly got tattooed on his face recently, the ones he won’t claim are or aren’t related to his mark. He spots his own listing of Jaig eyes.

“Prime?”

His... progenitor, maybe, in this situation, looks at him, and holds up a hand. “You saw the list. You can guess why Rex is here.”

Oh. Prime’s using his name without prompting. That’s nice.

“I can’t read it,” the younger Jedi says, with something that might be a pout. Rex wants to roll his eyes, but his helmet is on the table. People would see.

“It’s in Mando’a,” the elder tells him, voice low, and then glances between Rex and the younger Jedi. “Fett, how did you know which one to call? I can guess some things, but--”

“I have a good eye. The hilts are all different. Only one matches.”

“I see.”

Rex fidgets, and tries not to wonder at... at... oh. The younger Jedi’s lightsaber hilt does match Rex’s soul mark.

Boba notices when Rex starts picking at his glove, pressing a finger right to the mark on his wrist, and frowns up at him. He grabs Rex’s hand to still it, and tries to ask a question with his eyebrows. He is mostly unsuccessful.

“Anakin,” the elder Jedi says. Rex still doesn’t know his name. “Your hand, please?”

“Why?”

“...you’ll understand in a minute,” the Jedi says, long-suffering in the way of the trainers who dealt with the youngest cadets. “Your hand. No, the other one.”

“Why do you need my hand?”

“Reasons, Anakin. You there, ah... Rex, was it?”

“Yessir.”

The Jedi flinches. “Right. I suppose I’ll have to get used to that... right, Rex, can you come here? I imagine you know what it is that I’m looking to compare.”

Rex has been taught to listen to Jedi, but he has no idea who he’s supposed to listen to here. The older Jedi is probably in charge, but Rex hasn’t been assigned to anyone yet, so isn’t Prime still technically the closest thing he has to a CO?

He glances at Prime, who just gestures for Rex to go ahead with it.

Rex pulls off a glove, pulls back his sleeve, and bares the symbol on his wrist for inspection.

The younger Jedi’s face morphs from confused irritation to surprise, and then... something Rex doesn’t want to analyze too closely. He’s not sure if it’s wonder or horror. He wasn’t aware the expressions could look so similar.

The Jedi--Anakin--pulls back his own sleeve, moves his wrist to Rex’s and watches as the marks glow faintly from the proximity.

“Looks like Fett was right,” the elder Jedi mutters. He doesn’t sound happy. He looks at the other natborn, the one Rex is pretty sure is a woman, and raises an eyebrow.

She shakes her head, eyes closed.

“You said there were others?” the elder Jedi prompts, and Prime nods. “We are no more open about our marks than most, but I can spot one, maybe two, that I can guess at. I’d need to see the actual markings to confirm, of course, and I imagine that wouldn’t be something anyone would be happy with.”

“The rest can happen naturally,” Prime dismisses. “This was just proof.”

“Not just proof, I hope,” the Jedi mutters. “I’m.. I have to call the Council.”

Rex sees the panic in Anakin’s face, and is seized by the urge to do something, anything, to fix it.

“Obi-Wan, you can’t let them--”

“Nobody’s going to separate you,” the elder Jedi says. Obi-Wan, apparently. “And there’s no ‘let,’ Anakin, they outrank me. Significantly. Right now, I’m concerned about the implications of this war, of multiple of these cloned soldiers that have been indoctrinated to fight for and serve the Jedi having soulmates among us, especially given that I have no idea how recently our wartime protocols on such things were updated. There is an entire army that is supposedly in our name, ordered by a man ten years dead.”

“Count Dooku is involved,” Prime says, dark and satisfied and petty. “Calling himself Darth Tyrannus. The Kaminoans mostly believe he is an isolated and reclusive Jedi Master that serves as their contact when Sifo-Dyas is unavailable.”

The Jedi named Obi-Wan closes his eyes and breathes deeply, and then stands. “Right. That’s... well, alright, I absolutely have to call the Council now.”

Prime smiles, pulling Boba into his side. Rex finds himself tugged down to sit where Obi-Wan had been a few moments earlier.

“Why are you telling us all this?” the natborn woman says. “This Count sounds like he hired you, did he not?”

“The project predated his involvement, but yes, he’s my supervisor, so to speak.” Prime smiles that same dark smile, runs a hand over Boba’s head and pointedly doesn’t look at Obi-Wan. That smile is... unpleasant. Rex doesn’t want to look at it, and so he looks down to the faint glow at his wrist instead. “Did you know, they told me the clones would be sub-sentient and halfway to droids? Not really people? That my DNA was for the bodies, but the minds would be little more than lines of code? Do you know how much they hated that I saw the evidence of their lies written into my children’s skin?”

Rex jolts, head whipping about and hand pulling away from his soulmate, staring at Prime, his mouth agape in a way a soldier’s shouldn’t but--but he’s--

Rex has never, ever heard the Prime refer to any of them except Boba as his child. His copies, his echoes, his clones, but not his children.

A hand curls into his, and he looks down to find Anakin’s lacing their fingers together. He looks up into a hopeful, unsure smile.

Anakin tilts his head and leans in, lips to Rex’s ear, and says, “When I told Obi-Wan he was like a father to me, he didn’t even know how to respond. Just made a bad joke about it and then pretended it didn’t happen. Is this the same?”

“...close enough,” Rex breathes out, because now isn’t the time to explain just how different a clone’s existence is from what they’ve seen in the holos meant to prepare them for interacting with civilians. That ‘family’ here has always been brothers, your squad and any brother that chooses to take you on, or a brother you choose to nurture, that the Alphas raise them more than Prime or the trainers do, that the older squads are who they turn to because the adults won’t help, that they don’t have parents, and they are discouraged from thinking of children in their futures.

(Protecting intellectual property, one of the scientists had mused. They’d made it very, very difficult for any of the clones to impregnate a partner. Not impossible, because to make it impossible was itself impossible, but... nearly so.)

“There’s millions of us,” Rex says instead. “He doesn’t... he doesn’t usually acknowledge most of us as his.”

Anakin’s face twists, already angry, and the glare he aims at Prime is ghastly. Rex might already be a little in love, just for that. The way Anakin’s fingers squeeze around his is nice, too.

Prime does not notice.

“Can I see the contract you say you signed?” the natborn woman says, and Prime eyes her. He nods, at length, weighing her worth and finding she measures up to whatever it is that he’s decided is necessary.

“Boba, go pack like we’re going on a hunt,” Prime says, pulling out a personal datapad and only dropping his gaze to find the right file. “We’ll probably be leaving tonight.”

“Okay, buir,” Boba says, sliding off the couch. “Am I telling the Alphas the thing you said?”

“No, I’ll handle that myself. You just pack.” He stands, nods to the natborn woman, and moves around the table. “Senator, I’ll sit with you, if you don’t mind. I imagine you and Knight Kenobi are the best suited to get this problem fixed.”

“And me?” Anakin demands.

“You,” Prime says, with a just a hint of condescending drawl. “have just met your soulmate. I assumed you’d want some privacy to get to know each other.”

Anakin flushes, a little angry and a lot embarrassed. It’s frighteningly cute. “I--I mean--I don’t--”

“The clones are mentally the ages they look, but do remember they’ve had practically no time to gain any sort of experience,” Prime says, already ignoring them in favor of pointing something out on the datapad to the senator. “Take advantage of any of my kids, and I’ll be the one hunting you down. I’m told I’m rather good at it.”

Anakin’s face does some acrobatics. Rex would pay more attention, but he can feel himself turning just as red.

“Rex, you know where the private meeting room is,” Prime says, and waves a hand in the direction of the tiny, tiny office that’s by the door. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Be nice,” the Senator hisses, smacking Prime’s arm.

“He’s ten.”

“...still.”

Rex just stands and pulls Anakin away to the little room before things can get worse.

They’re delayed when Obi-Wan asks what they’re doing from the kitchen he’s been using to get a spot of privacy, but then Anakin says “we’re just going to talk, Master,” and they get an aggrieved sigh and a response of “the clothes stay on, padawan, and you’ll need to finish up whatever conversation you have soon, there’s work to do and being a padawan only excuses you from so much.”

Rex backs into the meeting room, yanks Anakin in, and then decides to throw caution to the wind and just press their lips together.

Oh.

Okay.

He’s kissing back.

Lack of caution: good.

The mark at his wrist thrums, warm and comfortable, and Rex pulls away. He stifles the noise he wants to make, and when Anakin whines, small and soft but clearly disappointed, Rex offers him a small grin he knows would get him called ‘shy’ by his asshole older brothers.

“We probably should actually get to know each other,” Rex says. “I don’t even know your last name.”

“I... yeah, I don’t know yours either, unless it’s Fett.”

“It’s not. I don’t have one.”

Anakin’s face does another one of those ‘I’m angry for you’ twists that Rex is quickly coming to recognize, and then he sighs and falls into one of the chairs. “Okay. So. I don’t know much about the soldier life. Tell me about it.”

And he does.

#Rexwalker #Anakin Skywalker #Captain Rex #Jango Fett #Obi Wan Kenobi #Padme Amidala #Soulmate AU #Phoenix Posts #Phoenix Answers Memes #star wars

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sfb123 · 3 years ago

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I just read your drunk Liam fic and I just HAD to send you some prompts!!! From the prompt list you hyperlinked 9, 16, and 17 maybe? (Preferably liamxriley) pretty plz?* insert puppy dog eyes🥺*

Well… since you inserted puppy dog eyes…

I wanted to try to incorporate all three of these into one story, which actually worked out really well. Then, the issue came of how to make that apply to Liam and Riley. Luckily, my current binge obsession is the 90′s sitcom Mad About You, and there was an episode the other night that set a lightbulb off in my head, so this fic is loosely based on that episode.

Prompts:

“We should grab coffee together sometime.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“You need a lift?”

(Prompt pulled from this list. Feel free to send me more!)

Word Count: 1,431

Warnings: Adult language, mild innuendo

A/N: Thank you @phoenixrising308 for pre-reading. Your kindness and support are unparalleled, and I love you dearly.

Also a thank you to @txemrn for dealing with my unnecessary back and forth about this moodboard. I ended up going with it, even though we were both so wishy washy about it.

A/N 2: This is my third prompt story this week, I’m going to take a break and quietly write by myself for a while. I’ll continue to work on the asks I have received, and please please feel free to send more. I’m having so much fun! I just don’t want to bombard you all, so I’m going to start pacing my posting. When I finish a piece, I just get so excited when I finish something that I want to show you all so badly!

***

Liam and Riley sat across from each other at the table, sharing the piece of cake that sat between them. They were in New York visiting Riley’s family for a few days, and her mother had insisted that Eleanor spend the night, so the royal couple was taking full advantage of their child-free night, wrapping up the evening with dinner at one of Riley’s favorite restaurants.

“Hey, check that out.” Riley tipped her head toward the bar, where a man was approaching a woman who was sitting alone at the bar. “He’s going to shoot his shot and try to pick her up.”

“How do you know?” Liam asked, watching as the woman nodded, the man immediately sitting down beside her.

“I worked in a bar long enough, I can read the body language and tell you exactly what’s going to happen.”

He turned to his wife, a skeptical expression on his face. “Prove it.”

“Wow, you don’t even believe your own wife. I’m wounded.” She placed her hand over her heart in mock devastation. “Fine, I hope you saved room after that cake, because you’re about to eat your words.”

Riley went on to explain what each was saying to the other, and accurately predicted each move that was made. Liam was so impressed that part of him felt like she may have hired these people specifically to act out this scene.

“Now watch, he’s going to pull out his phone and try to get her to put her number in.” She said, as the man reached into his back pocket.

“Is he going to get it?” Liam couldn’t help but be invested in the story that his wife was narrating for him.

“She’s going to give him a number, but see how she’s already almost standing up?” Liam nodded, waiting with baited breath for her to continue, “She’s going to give him a fake number, and then leave immediately. She doesn’t want to reject him to his face.”

“That’s cold.”

“It’s life, we’ve all done it.” Riley replied nonchalantly.

Liam’s gaze snapped to face her. “You’ve given men fake numbers before?”

She nodded and shrugged. “Lucky for you. You never know, I could have ended up suckered into marrying one of those creeps. Or like locked in their basement or something.”

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I consider myself very lucky for that.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

“Oh oh, here we go, look!” Riley brought his attention back to the bar where the woman was shaking the man’s hand. “Ooooh, not even a courtesy hug. Game over, dude.” They watched the woman exit the restaurant, as the man started typing on his phone. “He’s sending a text to the number she gave. It either won’t be delivered, or he’ll get a reply from someone who is most definitely not that woman.”

“That poor man. He just wanted to find love.”

Riley sighed, shaking her head. “Ahh my sweet, romantic king, your naiveté is so heartwarming. That man is just looking to get laid.” She laughed, “For all the normal experiences you missed out on, aren’t you glad that you never had to pick up women at bars?” She paused for a second. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Liam laughed, his expression quickly turning serious. “Actually, I kind of wish I could have had the opportunity. I think I would have been good at it.” Riley arched a brow at him. “I mean it, I got you to quit your life and fly all the way to Europe because of one night, didn’t I?”

“Touché.” She drummed her fingers against the table in a brief moment of thought, “But can lightning strike twice?”

“What do you mean?”

“Pick me up. I’ll go sit at the bar, you come over and shoot your shot. No social season, no friends, no boxy work uniform. Just a regular guy picking up a regular girl.”

Liam smirked at the proposition. “You’re on.”

Riley left the table and took a seat at the far end of the bar. Once she was seated he put down some money to cover their dinner, and made his way to the bar. “Excuse me miss, is this seat taken?”

She looked up, smiling politely and shaking her head, motioning with her hand for him to have a seat.

“I’m Liam.” He extended his hand.

“Riley. Nice to meet you Liam.” She placed her hand in his, and he brought it to his lips. “A hand kiss instead of a shake, bold move. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I actually just moved to the states from Europe.”

The bartender approached and took their orders. Liam instructed him to open a tab to cover himself and Riley. He took Liam’s card and stepped away to make their drinks.

“So, why is a beautiful woman like yourself sitting here all alone?” He asked once they were alone again.

Riley tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at the bar, playing up her role. “You’re sweet. I uh… I was supposed to be meeting someone, but I think they stood me up.”

“Well, their loss is my gain.” As the bartender set down their drinks, Liam lifted his glass in Riley’s direction. “A toast,” He waited for Riley to raise her glass before he continued, “To the missteps of old friends, which allow the opportunity to make new ones.”

“So we’re friends now?” Riley asked as she tapped her glass against Liam’s. “That’s awfully presumptuous.”

“Well, we’ve only just met. I’m hoping that perhaps we could get to know each other and see where the evening takes us.”

Riley agreed, and they began with some small talk. Riley stuck to her pre-Cordonia life, while Liam had done a pretty good job of coming up with a non-Royal backstory. They sat there talking, and drinking and ‘getting to know’ each other. Riley was impressed with Liam’s subtle flirting skills and decided that he was right, he would have been pretty good at this had he been given the chance.

The lights came up, and Liam’s bill was dropped on the bar in front of him. “It looks like they’re closing up.” He said as he reviewed the receipt, signing his name at the bottom. “This was a lot of fun Riley, I would like to see you again. We should grab coffee together sometime.”

“I actually don’t drink coffee, I think it’s gross.”

“Oh.” Riley smiled to herself at the disappointment in his voice.

“I would like to see you again, though.” She reassured him.

He looked up at her and smiled. “Could I take you to dinner, maybe?”

“Dinner would be nice.”

“Great!” He noticed the annoyed expression on the bartender's face, they were officially the last customers in the bar. “We should probably go. I’ll walk you home.”

“I actually have a car waiting for me outside.” He dropped his head, again disappointed by the rejection. “You need a lift?”

He smiled widely, standing from his seat. “I’d like nothing more.”

He offered his arm, she slid off the stool and linked hers through his. They exited the restaurant, and were greeted by Bastien, standing in front of their SUV. Before the guard could reach the door handle, Liam released Riley’s arm and jogged ahead, opening Riley’s door for her.

“Such a gentleman.” She smiled coyly as she slid into the backseat. He smiled and got in after her.

“Back to the hotel, your majesties?” Bastien asked as he entered the driver’s side.

“Yes please.” Riley answered.

Liam looked at her curiously. “Assuming I’m going to come home with you, bold move.”

She laughed. “You don’t have to come, but I promise you’ll have fun if you do.” Riley said in a sultry tone, closing the distance between the two of them.

“Riley…” Liam’s voice was just above a whisper as she leaned in, finally pressing her lips to his. They pulled back breathless from their kiss, their eyes remained closed as they rested their foreheads together. “I guess lighting can strike twice.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the second time I picked you up in a bar, and the second time you kissed me first.” He grinned triumphantly.

Riley leaned back, laughing as her eyes met Liam’s. “I guess that means you win?”

“Great, let’s go back to the hotel so I can collect my prize.” He brought his hand to her cheek and pulled her in, kissing her again.

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @bbrandy2002 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emersynwrites @emkay512 @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @pixie88 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @shewillreadyou @sincerelyella @sweatyrysconnoisseur @tessa-liam @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612 @neotericthemis

Liam:

@amandablink @ao719 @yourmajesty09

One Shots:

@bebepac @darley1101

#choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #choices the royal finale #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #trr #trh #trf #play choices #choices stories you play #liam x mc #liam x riley #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trh fanfic #trh fandom

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authoressofdarkness · 3 years ago

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I saw that you're taking prompts, from the dialogue list. Can I get number 20? “I’ve never had someone taking care of me before.” for starker obviously. I'm excited, I love reading your works. Thank you in advance!

Hi anon! That means so much to me and I’m v glad to be taking this as my first prompt. Thank you 💙

I kinda want to try some new things with some of these prompts, so I’m gonna go at this with omega Tony and alpha Peter and see where it goes. I hope that’s okay with you anon and that everyone likes it 😘

Same age college AU, omegaverse, alpha Peter Parker, omega Tony Stark, some angst and some fluff at the end.

—

It’s a well known fact that Tony Stark has a shitty family.

Well, at least to anyone who knows him, it is. They know how he’ll do anything to not be at home when his father is around, to get out of the endless pressures of social events and promotional things and questions of mating and management and all of the things that he hated about being born an omega and being attached to the last name Stark to top it all off—

For years, it was just him. Some flings, mainly to piss his father off, but he never had his attention for longer than the time it took to scold him or order him around, and his mother was never much help, either. He had precious few friends growing up, never really made any real ones until college when he met Rhodey and Pepper — an alpha and a beta respectively that helped him manage things there and that were the first people to truly understand the depths of struggles he had going on at home.

And they were great friends, still are, but there was never anything more there between them. They helped him float through the first year of school, and then—

And then came Peter Parker.

Tony doesn’t hate all alphas on principle, although he is often rather tempted to try to, what with how they were shoved in his face most of his life. They were great for a good fling but most of them were meatheads. As horny as Tony was, he couldn’t allow just anyone to be close to him, nothing too get to serious, because he’s got a lot of responsibility coming down to him and he needs the right partner — alpha or otherwise — to be willing to deal with that. Not that he’s particularly interested in mating right now but he also isn’t going to allow someone close enough to potentially mark him knowing the repercussions of that.

He’s the heir to Stark Industries, sure, but he’s still an omega. An alpha will have significant legal power over him once they’re mated. And he wants to be the one to run SI, to take on his legacy, to build, to create, and to run his business, and he’s not going to let anyone stop him, even if that means flings forever.

(Not that that’s legally going to fly because he can’t take over until he’s considered qualified which implies a certain amount of stability that translates into having an alpha that’s more than just a fuck buddy but—)

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters after he meets Peter.

Peter is a year younger than him in school, technically, but biologically they’re the same age. Peter just started a bit later than most — and for good reasons, as Tony comes to find out.

He’s in one of Tony’s engineering classes and his organic chemistry class and the omega would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately taken with him.

He can’t help it. Peter is cute, with his overgrown curls and slim form and silky skin and shy little smile and—

The other man is all alpha, there’s no doubt about it. He exudes it without even trying, but there’s a shyness to him, too. He’s not a meathead; he’s a sweetheart. From day one he’s respectful of Tony in class, kind when he sees him around campus, and that makes them the perfect lab partners in chemistry, and after knowing that, it’s just the natural choice for them to partner for the project in engineering and then—

Then things spiral, and Tony doesn’t even care.

He’s seeking the alpha’s attention, and Peter, the innocent, shy thing he is, is happy to give, to dote on Tony in ways that he would resist if they were coming from anyone else.

They’re not even fucking, but it’s intimate, so intimate that he can’t even explain it, and he loves it, scarily so. It both soothes and sets all his instincts on edge at the same time.

By mid semester they both have keys to come and go freely from each other’s rooms. It’s more common to see them together than it is to ever spot one of them out alone. The whole school probably thinks they’re a couple, and even though they’ve never made it official — and he’s never allowed himself to even come close to considering it before — Tony can’t bring himself to mind.

As midterms approach, though, Tony locks himself in to focus on his work. He doesn’t mean to, really; it’s just that hours studying slip into full nights and then he hasn’t eaten and he hasn’t left the room, even missing one of his classes because he doesn’t realize the time.

Peter hasn’t come by in days and except for the occasional check in text, Tony hasn’t heard from him, either. But they’re both busy with midterms so he really isn’t surprised. In fact he barely has time to eat, let alone check his phone, so even if he was texting him regularly Tony probably wouldn’t be answering.

Except mid terms or no, of course Peter notices when Tony misses class. And when his texts go unanswered by the absorbed omega, he doesn’t hesitate to show up and let himself in.

Tony doesn’t even realize anyone is there until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps so hard he nearly knocks the chair back, and when he turns around he sees Peter, stepping back and holding his hands up in the universal “I surrender” gesture, clearly not having meant to startle him.

“I’m sorry, I knocked but you didn’t answer so I let myself in. I just— you weren’t in class, and I was worried… are you okay? When was the last time you ate?” It takes all of two seconds for Peter’s sheepishness to melt into concern, and he steps forward again, closing the distance between them to tilt Tony’s chin up, looking at the shadow stretching across his jaw where he hasn’t shaved in a few days. “You’ve lost weight,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over Tony’s cheekbone tenderly — which, yeah, is definitely more prominent than it was at the beginning of the week.

Tony’s eyes flutter and he leans into the touch for a moment before refocusing and shaking it off. “I’m fine. This is normal, Peter. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Peter raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know what day it is?”

“It’s Saturday—“

“It’s Monday, Tony. 1pm on Monday, at that. You missed engineering this morning and you haven’t answered my texts all weekend.” Surprise flits across Tony’s face at that, because — yeah, last time he checked it was Saturday, and he had no new texts from Peter, so— “When was the last time you ate?” Peter continues to prod, voice gentle but insistent.

Both aspects only serve to spark irritation in him, though. Tony bats Peter’s hand away from his face, frowning. He doesn’t need to be treated with kid gloves. “I ate a little while ago. I’m fine.”

“You don’t even know what day it is—“

“It all kind of blurs together when you’re not doing anything besides working, okay—“

“Two days is a lot of blur, Tony—“

“And just because I need a shave doesn’t mean I haven’t left my desk or that this isn’t totally normal for midterms—“

“You’re the one saying you haven’t left your desk, not me—“

“That’s not what I meant! I’m just saying—“

“I’m just saying you need to take a short break, it’s not that big of a deal—“

“I don’t need a break, I know my limits—“

“Tony, I really don’t think—“

“Jesus fucking— You’re not my alpha, Parker, would you fuck off?”

The words come out before he can stop them, and he flinched himself at the hurt on Peter’s face, the way the alpha physically recoils, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not— god, I know that, okay? I’m just trying to help you, Tony. Please, this isn’t sustainable. You need to eat. Just— let me find you something, and then I’ll leave, okay?”

Leave? No, he doesn’t want him to leave. But the only thing that comes out is a quiet “whatever,” and he watches Peter escape to the kitchen with a ball of guilt growing in his chest.

Peter is just trying to help. He likes Peter and he doesn’t want him to leave, he just— he panics, and then he snaps.

Because what if Peter wants more? What if he really likes him? And Tony is a fuck up that does shit like this when he feels emotions and has so much baggage attached to being with him and—

And Peter knows that, at least some of it. It’s been a few months of seeing each other nearly every day, now, and his family situation was never a secret.

So why is he still here? Oh god, did Tony just ruin it?

The thought, for reasons that he’s refusing to immediately think about, is almost too much to bear. He stands up, fumbling his way out of the chair and into the kitchen.

The smell hits him almost as soon as he enters, and he sucks in a deep breath. His traitorous stomach growls, loud and demanding.

Soup bubbles on the stove as Peter works at the counter, chopping up some fruits and vegetables. He’s already managed to put a few little storage containers of food together for him, and something in Tony’s gut feels warm at the sight. But it also drops — preparing premade meals most certainly means that Peter isn’t intending to come back.

He looks up when Tony enters, expression wary. “The soup was the quickest thing you had, and since I had to be here for as long as it takes to boil anyway I thought I would just—“

“Peter.” His own voice sounds remarkable calm for how shaky he suddenly feels, lurching towards the alpha at the countertop. “It’s okay. I… thank you, for this. I’m sorry.”

Peter looks taken aback by the apology. “Tony, you don’t have to apologize. You’re right; I’m not your alpha and it’s not my place to give you orders. I just… I care about you, okay? I just want to help. I know you don’t think about me that way, and I’m sorry I overstepped, but—“

“You’re wrong.”

“What?” The words draw Peter up short.

Tony takes a breath, looking down. He focuses on the alpha’s hands, watching him chop instead of looking at his face. It’s easier. “You’re wrong. It’s not that I don’t think of you that way. The problem is… that I do. And I… I’m not used to this. I’ve never had someone take care of me before. Not really, not in any way that mattered. And what I feel for you… it scares me.” He takes a little breath again, looking down at his own hands. “I want you to be my alpha, Peter. But I’m not really a good omega, and I just have so much shit that comes along with being with me. The thought of asking you to do that… what that could do to us… I just don’t think I could handle that.”

He hears the knife ting against the countertop as Peter sets it down, and the pitter patter of footsteps as the alpha crosses the room. He’s suddenly being drawn into a pair of lanky but surprisingly strong arms, surrounded by the musky, relaxing scent of alpha, and he practically melts into it, nestling his nose into the spot between the collar of Peter’s sweatshirt and his throat almost automatically.

Peter’s hand running up and down his back is soothing, relaxing him the rest of the way, and the press of the alpha’s chin against his head is just the perfect weight to be comfortable, reassuring.

“Tony… I’m not an idiot,” he says gently. “I know who you are. What you’ve done, where you came from, what’s expected of you — and yeah, I’m sure there’s more that you haven’t told me and that’s not public, but— I get why this is a struggle for you, and why you feel the need to put so much pressure on yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you for that and it is most definitely not your own fault that you’re not used to being taken care of. And you’ve no idea how badly or how long I’ve wanted to be your alpha.” He pulls back a little to look down at him, fingers scratching Tony’s scalp gently as he works his fingers through his hair. “But that doesn’t mean that this kind of behavior — towards yourself or others — is good or acceptable. It’s okay to let me take care of you — at least in small ways. I know you’re scared of losing your independence, but that’s not what I want for you, either. I just want to help.”

“Help,” Tony echoes, eyes drifting to the pan on the stove and then back to Peter. “I… I think I’d like that.” He bites his lip, looking up at him. They’re about the same size and height, but this close, wrapped in the alpha’s arms and scent, with his steady gaze on him, he can’t help but feel small by comparison. “You really want to be my alpha?”

“Only if you want me to be, but…” Peter looks down at him and cracks his shy little smile. “I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”

“I’d like that,” Tony admits. He shifts to press up against him, putting a hand on his chest. “I’d also really like it if you’d kiss me.”

Peter looks a little surprised, but not unpleasantly. Still, he shakes his head, giving him a little push back. “Tony, you didn’t even know what day it was. God knows when the last time you brushed your teeth is. No offense, but… ew.”

Tony just laughs a little, unable to help himself. “If I brush my teeth…?”

“Maybe. If you eat your food as well.” Peter moves back to the counter, finishing up the container he was working on. “We can’t be doing anything that’s going to burn you extra calories when you don’t have enough to begin with, hm?”

Tony finds himself grinning. “That’s an argument I can get behind. Literally and metaphorically.”

Peter flashes a grin in return, voice back to that gentle but insistent tone that he knows so well when he says, “Go, Tony.”

And for once, Tony is all too happy to obey.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #prompting #my prompts #my writing #kris talks #kris answers #omega tony stark #alpha peter parker #starker omegaverse #fluff

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hxlyhead-harpies · 4 years ago

Text

The Only Exception

Request: @durmstrange hello!! can I request a song prompt for George with the only exception by paramore? 🧡 love your work so much!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: (Y/n) swears that she will never fall in love. George is determined to change that

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: None that I can think of

(gif from google)

You watched as George’s chest rose and fell in the rhythm of his breathing. His eyes were closed and his eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as he dreamt, the warm early morning sun gracing his features. You studied him from your side of the bed, one arm slipped under your pillow and one caressing George’s arm. You smiled as he slept, in awe of the fact that you were so lucky. And a warmth filled your body as you gazed at him, an indescribable feeling that filled your senses and made your brain and heart feel like they were on fire. It was a feeling that you had so long avoided and so long swore that you would never feel. But here you were, next to George, feeling overwhelmed by a feeling you had always said never existed. Love.

You were eight years old when your dad had left, leaving the broken shell of your mother behind him. He had cried as he walked out, regretting the action that put him in this position. A drunken night after work he had broken the vow that he had made to his wife all those years ago. Through broken sobs he swore that he still loved her and proclaimed it as she threw his belongings at him, screaming at him to get out of the house. You had watched from the top of the stairs, your head poking through the bars of the banister, tears sliding down your cheeks.

Your parents had always seemed so impossibly in love; the lingering touches and sweet kisses that they shared and the way they looked at each other led you to believe that they were the epitome of what love was. But you watched as they yelled and fought and decided right then and there that you were wrong. People who loved each other couldn’t cause this type of pain. And if what your parents had wasn’t love, you knew that the feeling didn’t really exist.

You stalked into your room and pulled out the storybook your father had gifted you for your seventh birthday. Your parents used to read it to you before bed, you snuggled between the two of them as they told the epic stories of romance and intrigue, always pointing to the princess and her savior and saying, “look! It’s just like Mommy and Daddy!” You threw the book in a box of your father’s belongings, waiting for it to disappear forever in the same way that your father had. Because that was all that love was, a fairytale.

Your father was gone from your life. You never saw him again. Your mother never remarried. She swore off romance and every night after her third glass of wine she’d stumble into your bedroom and reminded you that she would never ever fall in love again and that you should never let yourself try. You took her words to heart.

George had dropped, quite literally, into your life during your fifth year at Hogwarts. You were shelving books in the library when he turned the corner into the aisle you were standing in. He looked over his shoulder as he ran and turned just in time to see you pressed up against the shelf with your eyes wide. He tried to stop himself before he crashed into you but ended up slipping on the floor underneath him. He tumbled down, just barely missing you. You gasped and set the books down quickly. You reached down a hand and asked him if he was alright. He just looked up at you and beamed.

“I’m alright now that a pretty girl like you is offering to hold my hand,” he said with a smirk. You retracted your hand and furiously attempted to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks. George just smiled at you before hopping up and brushing off his robes. He sent you a cheeky grin before leaning against the shelf next to you.

“The name is George Weasley,” he said proudly, “what’s yours?” he asked. You ignored him, not trusting the fluttering feeling in your stomach.

“Oh come on now, what is it then?” he asked again. You rolled your eyes. Before he could push anymore, Professor McGonagall appeared behind him and pulled George out of the library by his ear. George laughed before sending you a pointed look.

“I’ll see you around!” he shouted at you with a wink. You froze, staring at the spot he once was for minutes after he was gone.

After that day, George seemed to become a constant in your life. He popped up everywhere; he waved hello to you from across the great hall and would flop down next to you when you studied in the courtyard. You acted annoyed when he would bother you, rolling your eyes at him when he tried to make you flustered and swatting his hand away when he tried to sling an arm around your shoulder. But secretly you enjoyed it and that scared you. You couldn’t let yourself get too close and you couldn’t let yourself feel too strongly for him. So you kept your distance. George swore that he would crack you one day. He longed for the moment you would truly laugh at his antics and not pretend that you hadn’t heard him.

Over the summer and winter holidays, he sent you letters. They were funny and full of jokes and stories of his family. You devoured them within seconds of them being delivered, soaking up every word that George intended for you. With the letters, you could be private about your affection towards him. When he spoke to you in person you hid your ever-growing crush, trying to protect your heart from inevitable heartbreak. But with the letters, you could hole yourself up in your room and be the true blushing mess that he made you. You never responded to his letters, afraid that you’d somehow admit that he was all that you thought about.

In your sixth year, George asked you to the Yule Ball. He had come up behind you in the library, not unlike the way he did the day that you met, holding a modest bouquet of daffodils. He stood in front of you, a stuttering mess, and practically begged you to accompany him to the dance. You said yes, but only under the condition that you’d be going as friends. George had frowned at that, it clearly not being the answer he had hoped for, but agreed.

You fretted for weeks about the ball. You were nervous, to say the least. You didn’t want your true feelings for George to be discovered. As much as you liked him, the memories of your parent’s final fight made you feel like you had to keep him at arms length.

When you had descended down the stairs in your golden dress, the look he gave you made all of that fly out the window. When you walked to meet him, he raised your hands to his lips and kissed it, murmuring that you looked beautiful. And as you spun around the Great Hall with George, you found yourself not thinking of the inevitability of heartbreak, but only of the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist and the feeling of your head on his chest.

That night when he walked you back to the common room he told you that he wished that you could have come to the ball as more than friends. You shyly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before hesitantly agreeing. His face broke out into a gorgeous grin before he leaned down and ghosted his lips against yours.

One night towards the end of your sixth year you sat in the owlery with Geroge. His head was in your lap and he toyed with your fingers as you recounted your day to him. After four months of officially dating, you were still getting used to calling George your boyfriend and the little intimacies that came with giving him that title. The way he’s brushed your hair out of your face or put a hand on your knee when you sat near each other. You always felt startled by the way he looked at you, pure adoration shining in his eyes. You felt just as deeply for him as he felt for you, yet you couldn’t help but feel scared. Because deep in the recess of your mind you always reminded yourself that this type of feeling never lasted.

You continued to relay the story of how Snape had managed to make a cauldron explode during class when George sat up suddenly. You paused in the midst of your story, furrowing your eyebrows at his abrupt movement. George looked at you with a flushed face and nervous smile.

“I love you,” he said suddenly, the blush across his pale, freckled skin only deepening. You froze, your throat constricting with panic. He looked at you, waiting for you to reply, but you couldn’t. It felt like the walls were closing in and a hole began forming in your chest. The four-letter word brought back every painful memory of your past, reminding you of every moment that your parents had said it to each other before breaking their own hearts.

George’s face filled with concern as your breathing picked up. He cupped your face gently.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “I didn’t mean to upset you.” His voice was shaky with worry. He wiped away the tears that you weren’t aware had fallen.

“George I-” you said.

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything back,” he said quietly. You averted your gaze.

“Thank you. But I- I just can’t say that. And I don’t know if I ever will be able to,” you said tearfully, preparing for him to scoff and shatter your heart into a million pieces. Instead, he pulled you into a tight hug and stroked your hair.

“I’ll wait for the day that you’ll be able to. I’ll wait for forever if I have to,” he said softly.

George told you that he loved you often, never expecting a reply in return. He didn’t quite know why you couldn’t bring yourself to repeat the words back, but he loved you too much to worry about it. He knew that you felt deeply for him, and that was enough.

And with every day you felt yourself fall for him more and more. Somewhere deep inside of you, you knew that you loved him. But you didn’t know if you’d ever have the strength to admit it out loud.

The night before George left Hogwarts he had tearfully bid you goodbye, promising that he’d think of you every second that you were apart. He told you about the flat above the shop and how there was a space in his bed meant just for you. He’d slipped a key into your hand and told you that when you were ready, he was waiting for you. You had smiled at him and gave him a fervent kiss, hoping that it conveyed the words that you were too scared to say.

After you finished your final year you had shown up promptly at the front steps of your new home. After months of exchanging letters, you were finally going to see George again. You inserted your key into the lock and stepped into the shop.

“I’m sorry but we’re closed,” a familiar voiced called out. George sat behind the register, his back towards you.

“Oh, I guess I’ll have to come back later then,” you said with a smirk. George’s shoulder’s tensed at the sound of your voice and he promptly spun around to face you. A smile broke across his face and he hopped over the counter and ran to meet you. He scooped you up in a hug and spun you around. He peppered kisses across your face, murmuring that he loved you in between each one.

And now you laid beside him as he slept, his legs hooked with yours. You brushed your finger along the bridge of his nose, causing him to stir. His eyes slowly fluttered open and his gaze snapped to you.

“Good morning beautiful,” he said softly, rubbing his tired eyes with his hand. You leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his nose. You took a shaky breath and looked him in the eyes, summoning all of the bravery that you could muster.

“I love you, Georgie,” you whispered. George’s eyes widened and tears began to form. He pulled you in, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.

“I love you too, (Y/n),” he said softly, his voice airy. You had always guarded your heart and set rules to keep yourself safe. But every rule had an exception, and for George, you’d always make an exception.

#George weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley/reader #george weasley/you #george weasley x oc #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #geaorge weasley fluff #george weasley angst #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine

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starglow-xx · 4 years ago

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 4)

platonic! mori ougai x f!reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

author’s note: it’s port mafia time! ages are still one year younger than canon

also!! my 100 followers event still has 7 5 4 3 2 1 spot open for requests!! go check out this post for more info!! i’d like to get the whole prompt list done early so i have time to write them! (event is now closed as of feb. 10, 2021)

another doctor? oh wait, another doctor and his daughter

as you expected, ranpo and fukuzawa have not let you go easy after what had happened a couple days prior (3 days ago to be exact)

one of them, or more often than not, the two of them would go visit the bakery at least twice a day

once in the morning right before opening, and the second time right before closing

if they could, they would visit around lunch time, but that was usually yosano

tbh you were thankful that yosano hasn’t been as overbearing as the other two but you knew she probably wanted to give you a break because holy shit are they extremely over protective

currently, it was the fourth day of being watched by the two eldest ada members, but there were no said ada members with you at the moment

and boy were you overjoyed

turns out, the ada has an important escort job for a government official or smth, and on top of that, fukuzawa has a bunch of meetings to attend

even ranpo has his hands full with a couple of difficult murder cases across the country

you’re lowkey, no highkey, worried bc you learned literally 3 days ago that ranpo doesn’t know how to ride the train 😀😀

you were worried abt them, there’s no question, but on the inside you were a bit relieved to which ranpo called you out on it immediately

that led to the two of you going at each other’s throats for nearly half an hour

let’s just say fukuzawa scolded the two fo you for a while

going back to the present, it was around one pm and you had just finished sending a text message to both fukuzawa and ranpo (cause they insisted) when a little blonde girl with blue eyes wearing a red dress matching with a red bow in her hair and red shoes walked in

she immediately went to the glass case to look at the desserts displayed

as she looked around, you watched her at the corner of your eyes and a with a smile as you wiped down one of the tables

after wiping down the table, you quickly went to go wash your hands and you walked over and stood next to her

you bent slightly and smiled bigger as she stared at one of the treats in the glass

“is that the one you want?”

she nodded without looking away from the glass

you giggled before going to the back and placing the one she wanted on the plate and held it out to her

the blonde was honestly so confused bc one, no adult supervision, and two, there was no tell tale way to know that she had money

to you, she was an open book so when she looked at you, her face immediately read “but i have no money, or a parent...??”

you simply patted her head and pushed along to one of the nearby tables and pulled a chair for her

you did not regret anything when you saw the look on her face when you told her that it was on the house

“name’s elise!” “i’m (y/n)!”

you sat with her for a while continuing to give her sweets she reminded you of ranpo in all honestly and talking abt random things

she mostly complained abt a “rintarou” though

speaking of which, when a man in a doctor’s coat came through the door near screaming “elise-chan! elise-chan!” you figured that was probably the rintarou she was complaining abt

you smiled as you watched the two interact

“elise-chan why would just disappear like that?!”

“i wanted to see rintarou cry”

“so mean!”

...their behavior was questionable but endearing ig

“rintarou” suddenly turned to you, thanking you for “taking care of his daughter bc she’s always getting into trouble”

*cue angry noises and face from elise*

he introduced himself as a “local neighborhood doctor”

you smelled bullshit but didn’t say anything bc he has been kind to you so far

he asked you how he could repay you and you were thinking that you can actually win something bc you’re not refusing an ada member oh you poor oblivious child but you were appalled when elise answered for you

it went like this

“is there anything i can repay you with for taking care of my dear elise-chan? perhaps paying for all the sweets she has eaten?”

“oh no! don’t worry abt that, it’s nothing! it was a pleasure getting to know—”

“let’s buy out all of her food!”

h u h

you knew she enjoyed your pastries and stuff but like w h a t

you inwardly sigh in relief when the doctor agreed with you that “that’s a bit much elise-chan” and you were thanking every deity out there when suddenly

she threw a temper tantrum

you watched in confusion and slight horror at the 180 of the sweet little girl you were talking to like 10 minutes ago

her guardian panicked slightly and tried to get her to calm down but ahaha no that didn’t happen

“WAHH rintarou!! but i want it!! (y/n)’s food is the best i’ve ever had!!”

“b-but elise-chan, we can’t just buy—”

“i’ll wear all the dresses i’ve ever rejected and more if we buy it out right now and keep buying sweets here forever”

“...deal”

your eyes twitch at the “innocent” smiles the two gave you after their “talk”

fast forward literally 5 minutes and you’ve already flipped the close sign on your door with note (saying you’re sold out) and you’re all over the place running around behind the counter trying to fit everything into boxes as the two are sitting on a nearby table lightly chatting

about 20-25, nearly 30 minutes later you finishing packing everything in the glass case

it was a lot

we’re literally talking about tiered cakes and dozens of batches of cookies, cupcakes, literally everything and anything

when the two notice you’re done they get up meet you by the register

“a-ano, you really don’t have to buy all of this...the total is going to be quite large...”

“no worries!”

honestly at this point, you kind of missed the chaotic calls from ranpo that happened like every half hour

you thought you were done being surprised for the day but next thing you know men in suits come into Sakura’s and begin to load the boxes into a black car

dealing with the detectives was already starting to be a handful and now you have to deal whoever the hell these two people where

quite frankly, you were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this

like-

who buys out a whole bakery?!

and who has the money to buy out a whole bakery?!

what kind of job could you possibly have?!

was this guy really just a doctor?!

right before the two leave you call out to them

“a-ah wait! i don’t think i ever caught your name!”

the two blink at you before eyeing each other

“mori ougai” 😄😄

you started smelling bad shits again

>:/

it was a weird feeling

you felt something off but at the same time, you weren’t really afraid

and with that the two left

you were already tired from this whole thing but you now get the rest of the day off

so i guess something worked out in your favor

until the next fricking day

again, ranpo and fukuzawa canceled out on you

you weren’t sure if you were relieved or not

and as soon as you thought you were going to have a normal business day, guess who walked through the doors

yeah that’s right

“the local neighborhood doctor” and his daughter

you froze before eyeing them with suspicion

if mori was amused, he didn’t show it, only giving you a smile

elise immediately left his side and practically leaped onto you making you cut yourself with the knife you were holding

well shit now you’re bleeding

it was only 7:15 in the morning; you had literally just opened

you were cursing every deity out there

you quickly grab a nearby and press it against your wound and scrambled around looking for the first aid kit you had nearby

“oh? (y/n)-kun are you bleeding?”

“(y/n) i’m sorry!”

“a-ah, no worries elise-chan”

you really need to stop spacing out bc next thing you know, the sign on your door is flipped to close again (along with the same note from yesterday explaining you’re sold out taped on the door) and you’re sitting at a table with elise in your lap and mori wrapping your hand in a bandage

“tsk tsk (y/n)-kun you need to be more careful...but it is elise-chan’s fault”

“die rintarou!”

“but no worries! it’s not that deep so you don’t need stitches”

“thank you, mori-san, but can i ask why you and elise-chan are here again? not that i mind...”

whether or not you were lying is up to you

“oh we’re here to buy out your stock again!”

“wait what-”

the fuck???

did they not just buy everything yesterday???

frozen, you stare at the man in front if you with said man giving you another “innocent” smile

this little shit

wait till you meet dazai

but i guess that’s why the sign on the door is flipped to close bc you don’t even remember flipping it yourself or taping the note from yesterday to the door

you spent the next half hour trying to convince the two over some tea (your signature one of course) that “no you don’t need to or should buy everything i have, you’re going to deprive the rest of my customers”

cough cough ranpo

like the day before, you were losing this argument

can you just never win?

as you were losing the argument (obviously) you realized that you don’t even know why they want to buy everything again

“mori-san, why do the two of you even want to buy everything in the first place?”

“ah it was elise-chan’s request of course! but i do admit, after trying some of your sweets myself, i grew quite attached! so did the rest of my subordinates after my precious elise-chan made them try it, not like they could refuse her or me; i am their boss after all (y/n)-kun.”

*cue confusion*

“subordinates? wait are those the guys from yesterday?? aren’t you a doctor...?”

“ah ex-doctor actually, i’m the leader of the port mafia”

...

“ah (y/n)-kun that’s quite the coughing fit you have going on, do you need water?”

if it wasn’t obvious, you choked on your tea and had quite the coughing fit; you were wheezing and everything making elise leave you lap and settling for dangling over mori’s shoulders

“...you’re kidding”

“im afraid im not”

this man confuses the hell out of you??

like-

w h y would he just say that, to you of all people

but it explains the bad shits you were smelling/feeling yesterday

“are you afraid?”

“being completely honest with you, mori-san, not really”

“and why is that?”

you simply shrug not really knowing the answer

you aren’t lying, you just aren’t

maybe bc yesterday, he seemed more like a doting parent than the boss of the most criminal organization of yokohama

yes, you’ve heard the rumors, obviously, but just saying, if the port mafia wanted to hurt you, you’d probably be dead in a ditch by now

and they haven’t really been a bother to you, they were more like background characters in your life

well

until yesterday of course

mori simply raises an eyebrow and a smile seemingly okay with your very vague answer

“why did you tell me that mori-san?”

the man only smiles a bit wider at you and this time, you’re the one raising an eyebrow

“just a feeling”

yeah you were starting to smell bad shits again

“and besides! elise-chan seems quite fond of you (y/n)-kun! i wasn’t planning on doing anything to you in the first place, but even if i wanted to, i don’t think i could! i wouldn’t want to upset my dearest cute elise-chan”

“die rintarou!”

“that’s mean elise-chan!”

your eyes began to twitch in slight annoyance

cause istg the duality of this man—

this strange strange man

oh dearest you haven’t even met dazai yet

after that has been said and done, somehow you found yourself in front of stores being dragged by elise

how did you end up there you ask? i don’t know either so there’s nothing we can do abt that

eventually, you found yourself holding a bunch of shopping bags full of dresses and clothes of the sort

some of it your size and the others elise’s

...

“mori-san?”

“yes (y/n)-kun?”

“why do i have bags of clothing that are fit for me rather than elise?”

“oh that’s because elise refused to go without you and if you didn’t get anything!”

yeah

that makes perfect sense, of course

you could see why elise kept on complaining abt this guy

the two of you actually bonded over making fun of him

you have n o fear

actually, maybe just a little

the three of you were out for basically the entire day and you were exhausted

cause holy shit there was a lot of money wasted, shopping bags obtained, and walking involved

it was around 5 pm when the three of you were making it back to Sakura’s

along the way you found yourself having a pleasant conversation with mori

even if he was a questionable person to be having a pleasant conversation with, you enjoyed it nonetheless

you hoped that it makes it harder to get rid of you if he ever changed his mind but we don’t talk abt that

anywho

when the three of you arrived, you immediately dumped all the bags you were holding and went straight to work packaging everything for “the local neighborhood doctor”

before they left, mori agreed to not buy out all of your stock except for some occasions but instead settled ordering massive batches of a little bit of everything every few days

how that’s not the same as buying everything you won’t ever know

you were standing outside Sakura’s watching the two get into the car that had arrived when suddenly, mori turned to you

“ah (y/n)-kun, i know that you wouldn’t tell anyone about this, it wouldn’t be like you to, but just a reminder, it would probably be in your best interest not to let anything slip to anyone okay? we wouldn’t want any enemies using you against the port mafia. so take care of yourself hm? see you next time”

and bippity boppity boo just like that, they were gone

how that man managed to get your personality down in just like 10 hours you don’t want to know

and that’s basically the story of how you started making more food/bake goods to sell

true to his word, every few days, or sometimes consecutive days, mori called you and made a large order

and i mean large

on those days, someone from the port mafia would pick it up and then you get paid

thankfully, by increasing the amount of food you made, you always had enough to put out on display and to sell even after the large order

before doing that, on those days you didn’t have a large stock, someone by the name of edogawa ranpo would weep at your feet

he will deny this; after all, great detectives don’t do weeping

or so he says

and speaking of the detective, you never did tell him what had transpired the two days he and fukuzawa were absent on checking on you

but tbh, i even think ranpo could’ve deduct this one

you didn’t tell him bc you were afraid, no of course not that’s ridiculous mori, in elise’s words, was a loser

you didn’t tell him bc you knew he and fukuzawa would flip the fuck out

and that would be a major inconvenience to you

you didn’t see the point in telling them anyway

so whatever, it’s like it’ll be important

and if ranpo and fukuzawa noticed the abundant of bags near the door leading up to the staircase when they visited you at the end of the day they didn’t say anything

of course one of them said smth

“ne (n/n)-chan since when did you like to buy a bunch of things; waste of money if you could just be using that money to make more food so you wouldn’t sell out right away and have food to feed me”

your eyes twitched

he could’ve worded that a little better but whatever

it is ranpo-san after all

“i just got carried away since i closed up early; you know it isn’t often i get to go shopping”

and if he smelled your bullshit he didn’t say anything

for real this time

that slightly concerns you ngl

anyways

let’s just say quite a few heads were turned when they saw their boss leading a bunch of lower level subordinates carrying many light pink boxes of different sizes to his office for the second time

oh and just another thing

*whispers* he was lying when elise made his other subordinates eat your food; they kept it all to themselves”

was that a ruse to help lead the revelation of his real occupation who knows

“(y/n)-kun is a very interesting person don’t you think so elise-chan?”

“quiet. i’m eating cake.”

“that’s so mean elise-chan!”

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organabanana · 4 years ago

Photo

What spring does to cherry trees || Supercorp

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor

Additional Tags: mostly fluff, with some porn for flair, pre-canon, but also, post-canon, tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees. What does that even mean? It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained. No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak. Kara doesn't like poetry. Until she does.

Notes: Written for a very patient anon who prompted me with “Seeing the cherry blossoms in Washington DC” but I got sidetracked by Neruda and my favorite of his poems and it turned into This. It's poem number fourteen, found in "Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada" (Twenty love poems and a song of despair) by Pablo Neruda, which you can read here (Spanish) or here (English). I mostly translated the lines I needed myself, so I can't guarantee they'll match the official translation (I'm also not sure there is such a thing as an official translation, so there's that). With special thanks to the most patient anon in history for the prompt, to @lavenderrry for praising my vibes, and to @emiltons for the gorgeous graphic.

[ao3 link]

The first time Kara encounters Neruda's poetry she's nineteen and bored. In her defense, she thought taking a poetry class would make her feel sophisticated and cultured, but all she feels is annoyed at the insistence of using language to obscure your message rather than share it.

And yes, yes, she gets it. It all sounds very pretty and evocative. It's just Kara has been hiding her true self in plain sight for the last six years, and she can't understand why anyone would willingly and needlessly do that to themselves. To their feelings. She may never have been in love, but Kara is pretty sure if she ever is -- if her heart ever feels full to the brim with the kind of big feelings her professor keeps making them read in metaphors and symbolism -- she'll want to make them clear as day.

I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees.

What does that even mean?

It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained.

No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak.

***

Kara doesn't take any more poetry classes, and she doesn't think of Neruda (or any other poet, for that matter) for years. She has so many other things to think about. She moves to National City and starts working for Ms. Grant. She grows into herself, she thinks. She becomes Supergirl and feels more like herself than she has since her pod left Krypton. She dates, a little bit. Dips her toe in the dating pool, if you will. She meets Lena Luthor.

And that's the second time she runs into Neruda. Right there on a shelf in Lena's living room, on a book that looks well loved and well read, spine full of small cracks and lines from being opened over and over again. Kara has always thought you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their shelves.

"Pablo Neruda," Kara says, one finger tracing a line down the spine of the book like she's trying to read something in the pattern of the cracks, "I didn't know you liked poetry."

"I don't dislike it." Lena's heels click-clack on the hardwood floor before she sets the bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table and sits on the couch. "Have you made up your mind on what we're going to watch?"

Kara can hear the faint electrical hum of the TV being turned on, but she's a bit too distracted by the book to focus on deciding whether tonight is a night for a romantic comedy or an epic drama. She couldn't say exactly why this book feels important. It just does. Maybe it's because Lena keeps so much of herself hidden somewhere not even Kara's X-Ray vision can reach, and finding little clues about her thoughts and feelings feels a lot like she's struck gold.

Yeah. Maybe that's why.

Her fascination with the book only grows when she pulls it out of the shelf only to find the title written in Spanish. "Veinte poemas de amor--"

"And a song of despair," Lena finishes in English. "Atonement? I've heard good things about it."

"No way. I said I could be persuaded to watch a tear jerker, but I did not sign up for actual depression." Kara brings the book along when she walks over to sit down next to Lena. She's so focused on the book, still, that she miscalculates her landing just by an inch or so and her thigh bumps against Lena's as she settles on the couch. But Lena doesn't move away, and Kara figures there's no reason why she should. They're friends, after all. Close friends. Figuratively and now very, very literally close.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish." Kara speaks again, breaking the silence before it solidifies into something potentially awkward.

"I don't. It's a bilingual edition. Can we please pick a movie?"

Kara would love to do exactly what Lena wants. In fact, giving Lena everything she wants has become sort of a constant in this fledgling friendship between them. It just feels nice, you know? Giving her what she wants and making her smile. But this book. It's all so very distracting.

"So. Do you prefer the twenty love poems, or the song of despair?"

Lena rolls her eyes, but she can't quite hide the amused smirk behind the glass when she sips her wine, so Kara knows she's not nearly as annoyed as she's trying to appear.

"What is it with you and Neruda? I didn't know you were a poetry fan."

Kara scoffs. "I'm not." She still remembers the feeling of relief washing over her when she saw her passing grade on that stupid course and realized she'd never have to read another line of poetry in her life. "I don't even like poetry. I'm just curious, that's all."

Lena cocks one eyebrow at her. Studies her, in a way that makes color rise to Kara's cheeks and has her wondering if Lena can see through people, too.

"Anyway!" Kara shakes her head like she's hoping that'll make the blush fade. "The love poems, or the song of despair?"

"The poems," Lena finally concedes, "and I'm very surprised you don't like poetry. You seem the type."

"What?" Kara is already thumbing through the edge of the book, trying to find the place where it'll open naturally and hopefully show her which of the twenty love poems Lena happens to like the most. "What does that even mean?"

"Well, you have a big heart. Big feelings." Lena looks into Kara's eyes like she's trying to read all those feelings right there in shades of blue, and Kara finds herself looking down at the book just in case. Just in case all those big feelings she can't even name herself are there for Lena to read. "Seems like a recipe for liking poetry."

Kara shakes her head and pushes her glasses up, just in case. Just in case the lead in them can shield more than just her powers. And just as she's about to argue -- just as she's about to tell Lena precisely why she doesn't like poetry -- she opens her book and her gaze lands on a familiar phrase.

"Quiero hacer contigo," she reads out loud from the page on the left, and her fingertip is already finding the next verse on the right when Lena finishes for her.

"What spring does to cherry trees."

If Kara was just Kara Danvers, she'd have missed it all. She'd have just heard her best friend speak a line from a poem that -- much like most poems -- means very little to her. But she's not just Kara Danvers. So Kara hears the way Lena's heart beats just a little bit faster. The way her breath catches just so. The exact fraction of a tone her voice drops when she speaks. The faintest hint of a sigh.

"See? This is why I don't like poetry." Kara chances a look into green eyes, and she's so very grateful Lena has no superhearing to tip her off to the way Kara's heart seems to trip all over itself. "'I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees'. What does that mean?"

Kara swears -- she swears -- she catches Lena's pupils dilating just enough to make her think she knows exactly what the poem means.

"It's not about what it means, Kara. It's about what it makes you feel." Lena lets out a soft chuckle, something light and airy like this is just a silly little conversation with no weight to it at all. Like she can't feel the way the air itself seems to have changed into something new.

"Is it your favorite line?" Kara pretends she can't hear the way her own voice has changed, too.

Lena shakes her head. "No. My favorite is actually--"

Kara hears the DEO alarm before Lena's fingertip can make contact with the paper, and she almost considers ignoring it. She almost considers letting whatever danger is looming over this whole city have at it because finding out what's Lena's favorite line in her favorite poem seems far more important right now.

But of course, that would be crazy. Crazy! Kara would never.

"I'm so sorry, Lena, I--" Kara stands up, already hearing Alex's voice telling her where she's needed as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and pretends to read a text, "I have to go. I forgot I had this thing with--"

"Go." Lena's smile is just small enough to make Kara's heart twist in an uncomfortable way that's become familiar since she started lying to her friend. "Sounds important. I understand."

Kara nods, just once. "Tomorrow?"

Lena's smile doesn't grow, but it suddenly reaches her eyes, and something settles in Kara's chest. "Of course. Tomorrow."

Five hours later, foe defeated and safely locked away at the DEO, Supergirl touches down on Lena's balcony. There isn't a single light on inside the apartment, and Kara hesitates for a second by the sliding glass door. She shouldn't sneak into Lena's apartment in the middle of the night. That's a little creepy, right? Even if she knows Lena's said over and over again Kara's welcome any time.

It's just.

That book.

Lena's favorite line.

Kara may never be able to sleep again if she doesn't find out what it is.

So with a non-zero amount of shame at her own choice, Kara ends up sliding the door open and slipping into Lena's living space. She listens for Lena's breathing to make sure she's asleep, and once she's satisfied that's the case she makes a beeline for the shelf and the now-familiar book. It doesn't take her long to find the page she'd been reading before, and soon enough she's reading the lines Lena had been pointing to.

How you must have hurt getting used to me, to my savage, solitary soul, to my name that sends everyone running.

The words wrap around Kara's heart like a vice. If she could do it without blowing her cover and putting Lena in danger, she'd go in her room right now just to wake her up and tell her what Kara thinks about her soul. About her name, too, while she's at it. She'd tell her everyone else is free to run if they want, but Kara isn't going anywhere.

But she can't do any of those things.

***

The two lines stay with Kara, sort of swirling under the surface of her thoughts. She never actively thinks about them -- about poetry in general, for that matter -- but they're there.

She remembers them sometimes. When their friendship grows and strengthens and one day Kara realizes Lena may be the person she loves the most in the world (tied with Alex). When the secrets and lies catch up with her and she thinks she may have lost Lena for good. When she finally gets Lena back.

It's been five years since she snuck into Lena's apartment that one night to find out about her favorite line in her favorite poem. Five years since she's actively thought about Neruda and the book and the words inside it. But for some reason, when Kara wakes up a couple hours earlier than she needs to and finds herself unable to sleep, she feels like that's precisely what she needs to read to soothe her brain. Maybe poetry will have the same sedative effect it used to have in college.

Wearing only an old t-shirt, Kara walks out of the bedroom and into the living area, scanning the shelves where she thinks she last saw that book. It's hard to keep track when your book collection has multiplied and turned into more of a home library situation than anything else, but she eventually finds it -- spine still cracked and pages still well-loved and well-read -- and settles down on the couch.

Kara flips from poem to poem, not really paying attention to any of them. A line from the third and then two from the eighteenth and a word or two from the seventh, eyes flicking between the Spanish lines and their English counterparts on the other side of the page. It's soothing, in a strange way. Like white noise, she figures. Nonsensical but calming. Until she lands on the fourteenth.

"Oh, those cherry trees," Kara half-groans in a whisper. The cherry trees and the spring and the convoluted way to say I love you. And Lena's favorite lines.

Kara feels it all over again. The pang of pain at the sight of that line.

My name that sends everyone running.

It lands different this time, five years into a friendship that turned out to be so much more and nearly went up in flames at one point. Because of names and lies and... well. Everything else. Lena was right after all, wasn't she? It's not about what the poem means. It's about what it makes you feel. And right now Kara feels a lot more than she'd be able to put in words if she had to.

Maybe Mr. Neruda was on to something after all.

"Hey," Lena's voice is laced with sleep, and Kara smiles as she listens to her footsteps bringing her closer, "what are you doing? It's the middle of the night."

Kara wouldn't call it the middle of the night -- more like a very early morning, really -- but she's not about to argue. "Reading. I couldn't sleep."

"Everything all right?" Lena reaches the back of the couch and makes the most of the rare height advantage over her girlfriend to press a kiss to the top of blond hair. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

Kara opens her arms before Lena can even think about sitting next to her instead, and smiles at the familiar weight of Lena sliding onto her lap. Even as she shrugs off Lena's question, Kara is already burying her face against the soft skin of her girlfriend's neck, breathing her in and letting the familiar scent filling her lungs soothe her like no amount of poetry ever could.

"Kara," Lena's fingers slide into blond hair, blunt fingernails scratching at Kara's scalp and making her hum in delight, "that's not an answer."

"No reason. I'm just not tired anymore I guess." A deep, content sigh. "Baby, you're so good at that."

There's still a slight crease between Lena's eyebrows, but that doesn't stop the smile Kara's praise brings to her face. "You'd tell me if I had to worry?"

Reluctantly, Kara pulls away from the warmth of Lena's neck. Her arms wrap around Lena's waist as she looks into green eyes. "You know I would."

And Kara watches Lena let the words sink in. They've had this conversation before, and Kara knows they'll have it again. They both have sore spots that need special care from time to time. And just to keep Lena's mind from going down any sort of rabbit hole, Kara decides it's time to continue a conversation they left unfinished five years ago.

"It didn't hurt at all, you know. Getting used to you." Kara shows Lena the book she's been holding, and grins when Lena smirks as the reference clicks.

"I thought you didn't like poetry," Lena chides, taking the book and flipping through the pages until she lands -- unsurprisingly, if you ask Kara -- back on poem fourteen.

"I don't. It's like... giving feelings a secret identity."

Lena arches one eyebrow, looking somewhere between amused and curious. "Care to explain?"

"Well, you know," Kara leans in to steal a quick, soft kiss, "say I want to kiss you. I can just say it. That's better than hiding it behind some kind of... flowery metaphor that'll make you wonder if I'm even saying that in the first place. Right?"

There's this look on Lena's face. Kara knows it well. It's like a challenge. Like she's playing chess and she's already thinking six moves ahead and knows you're toast whatever you do from that point on. Kara finds it nothing short of delicious.

"So you're saying," Lena says, and there's victory right there simmering under the surface of her words because she knows -- she knows -- she's won, "you'd rather I say 'this is a lovely sunrise we get to see together'," Lena's gaze drops to the open book in her hand to refresh her memory on the line she's about to quote, but she makes sure she's looking into blue eyes once again when she speaks, "than 'so many times we've watched the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the grey light unwind in turning fans', right?"

Kara swallows, hard. Her cheeks burn with a blush that will simply not be contained, no matter how hard she tries to keep some semblance of dignity. Her mouth feels dry all of a sudden, heart beating just fast enough -- hard enough -- that she's sure even Lena's plain human hearing can pick it up. And the look on her girlfriend's face lets Kara know she knows exactly what's currently happening to her.

"W-- well." Kara blinks, shaking her head like she's trying to physically clear the fog inside. To her credit, she thinks she manages to sound more indignant than turned on. "I mean that's unfair. You made it hot."

Lena lets out a delighted chuckle that hits Kara right in her heart, like a little pinball ball making it ding with the knowledge that Lena Luthor is happy enough to laugh. Really, truly laugh.

"What?" Lena asks, still grinning, fingertips teasing the soft hairs at the back of Kara's neck like it's nothing -- like she doesn't know what she's doing to her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ohh no, ma'am," Kara grins, cheeks still burning with the feeling simmering down low in her belly but too charmed by her girlfriend's teasing smile to stop, "you don't get to pretend you didn't do that on purpose."

"Kara," Lena says, in that way, because she knows, she knows, she knows Kara's weaknesses so perfectly well, and Kara wouldn't have it any other way, "I was just quoting Neruda, I didn't do anything."

"You did the voice thing!"

"What voice th-- Kara, if you can't just admit plain language and poetic language are simply not on the same level I--"

"You purred the words! How is that fair!?"

Kara presses her lips together like she can retroactively keep the words from exiting her mouth. Too late, though. Lena looks positively delighted.

"I purred the words?" Lena echoes, barely able to keep a straight face. Actually, you know what? Scratch that. She's openly pleased with herself. Smug, even.

"I mean. I mean," Kara says, and she touches the bridge of her nose with one fingertip because for a moment she's forgotten there are no glasses to push up at all, "obviously it's not the same. Poetry and prose, they're inherently--"

"Different, right," Lena finishes Kara's thought, "so you see how you'd use one or the other depending on how emotionally charged--"

Kara shakes her head. "But you don't need flowery metaphors to convey emotion! You can just say what you mean and mean what you say."

"But you just said it yourself. It felt different when I just said it's a sunset, and when I quoted--"

"You purred poetry at me, Lena, of course I'm going to feel a certain kind of way!"

And there it is. Kara feels it in her bones. The checkmate Lena had seen coming a mile away. She sees it right there in the smirk on her girlfriend's face. In the way Lena's pupils dilate just so. The way her tongue peeks out to lick her lips as she looks at Kara like she's lunch.

Or, you know. Breakfast, as the case may be.

"You feel a certain kind of way?" Lena shifts on Kara's lap and they've been together for long enough that Kara absolutely knows there's nothing innocent or coincidental in the way Lena's night shirt (Kara's high school gym t-shirt, mind you) rides up to expose Lena's lace-covered ass. "What kind of way is that, Supergirl?"

Kara perks up at the sound of her name. Her other name. Because maybe it wasn't checkmate after all. Maybe it was just check. Because the thing is, it's not just Lena knowing all of Kara's weaknesses. That knowledge very much goes both ways. And Lena calling her Supergirl?

Oh, Kara is absolutely not the only one who's feeling a certain way.

"You know." Kara shrugs slightly, pretending to still be the mouse in this little game. She rests one hand on Lena's knee and lets her palm slide up her thigh, slowly, listening to Lena's heartbeat speeding up with each inch of skin Kara explores. "You know the way I mean."

Lena's breath hitches just so when Kara's hand slides further up, and Kara savors the sound of Lena's heart tripping over itself when her fingertips drag along damp lace.

"You're listening, aren't you?" Lena cocks her eyebrow, but her lips stay parted and her breathing comes in short, warm puffs so the whole thing really doesn't come off as stern as Kara is sure Lena would like.

"Hmm?" Kara knows she's probably pushing her luck, but she bats her eyelashes anyway, her face the very picture of innocence as if her fingertips weren't tracing the very edge of Lena's panties, hinting at what they could (will) do if she just happened to push that fabric aside. "Listening to what, baby?"

Lena tries not to -- Kara can see the struggle right there in her eyes -- but she whimpers anyway, quiet and just barely audible to the human ear.

"Kara." It tries to sound like a warning, but it falls just this side of pleading instead. Lena blushes so very pretty when she's feeling a certain kind of way.

"Yes, Lena?"

"You're listening," a breath, slow and measured like she wishes she could take in a deep one but her lungs can't quite cope with that right now, "to me."

"Well, I mean," Kara shrugs slightly, like she can't feel the warmth of Lena's pussy against her fingertips, "I try to. I feel like it's good girlfriend etiquette."

Lena is trying so hard to look at least moderately annoyed. It's not working at all, but Kara can see that's her intent. She also knows exactly what Lena means, too. She means Kara is listening to her. To the beat of her heart and the air in her lungs and all the tiny, inaudible (for everyone else) sounds that tell her exactly how much Lena wants her.

"You're listening to what you're doing to me." Lena drops the book on the floor to wrap both hands around Kara's neck, hips shifting forward just enough to get more contact with Kara's hand between her legs. Kara knows Lena doesn't need superhearing to notice the way Kara's breath catches in her throat.

"And what am I doing to you, baby?" Kara won't cross the barrier of Lena's panties just yet, but her fingers becomes more purposeful, less teasing as two fingertips press against Lena's clit through damp lace. Lena's eyes flutter closed and she takes in a sharp breath that sounds almost like a gasp, and Kara rewards such a gorgeous sound with a kiss to Lena's jaw. "What Spring does to cherry trees?"

Lena must feel Kara's teasing grin even if she can't see it, because she lets out a breathless chuckle even as her hips start rocking to meet the movements of Kara's fingers. "Just admit poetry can express richer emotions than prose ever cou--"

Kara's mouth is on Lena's before she can finish her thought, and Kara would maybe feel a bit guilty for interrupting, but Lena's fingers fist in blond hair and pull her close and there's no way someone who's offended would kiss her like that. And Kara isn't even listening anymore, because Lena's tongue is in her mouth and all she can hear is her own heart thumping along anyway.

When she breaks the kiss, Lena keeps Kara close. She's panting slightly, breath hot and wet against Kara's lips and pupils so dilated Kara wonders if she can see her at all. A quiet, hitched moan escapes parted lips, and Kara swears there's nothing in the world -- in the universe, really -- more beautiful than Lena when she's like this. Like putty in her hands. And Kara just can't resist.

"Admit you purred," she whispers against kiss-swollen lips, knowing if there's one chance for her to win an argument with her girlfriend this must be it. When she has Lena rocking against her fingers, wet and wanting and just the right amount of needy to get her to give in, for once.

"Kara." It's practically a whine, and Kara swears it sounds like victory. Until she sees the glint in her girlfriend's eyes, and Lena gets her checkmate move after all. "Shut up and fuck me."

Kara feels the words rather than hears them. They hit right between her legs and spread all over her body, and you know what? Kara really is okay with losing under these particular circumstances.

Two fingers hook under the crotch of Lena's panties and Kara tugs lightly, almost like she's testing the strength of the lacy fabric. "Do you really like the..." Kara's voice trails off as Lena pulls the t-shirt up and over her head, blue eyes staring unabashedly at her girlfriends breasts as she struggles to finish her thought, "...these?"

It's just polite to ask before tearing someone's panties to shreds, if you ask her, even if you're currently transfixed at the sight of her breasts.

"I don't care." Lena's voice is doing that thing again, except this time Kara is pretty sure she's not doing it on purpose at all, it's just that's what Lena sounds like when she needs Kara now and isn't that just the best thing ever? "Baby, please, I don't care."

Kara doesn't know if she rips the panties off first and then leans in to catch Lena's left nipple with her mouth or if it happens the other way around, but she honestly doesn't care either, as it turns out. All she knows is two fingers slip inside Lena in one smooth, firm thrust, and her free hand grabs Lena's right breast, and then--

"More," Lena moans, breathy and greedy, but when Kara starts thrusting harder into her Lena shakes her head, "no, no-- more fingers," and Kara lets out a quiet whimper around the stiff nipple between her teeth.

Kara pulls her fingers out of Lena and stretches her ring finger to join the first two before sliding them back inside. Her movements are slow and careful, all of her senses focused on detecting even the slightest hint of discomfort in her girlfriend until her three fingers are fully inside Lena.

"Go on, Supergirl."

Lena's tone is just the right amount of teasing to make Kara chuckle lightly, mouth leaving Lena's breast to trail kisses up her sternum and to the freckles on her neck as her arm starts pumping once again. She's so very close, Kara can tell, and even more so when she turns her wrist just so to press the pad of her thumb against Lena's clit.

Lena's fingers dig into Kara's scalp, into the strong muscle at her shoulder as Lena holds on and rides Kara's hand, hips rocking hard and fast in time with Kara's thrusts. Kara couldn't listen to any one thing if she tried. It's a symphony of sighs and moans, whimpers and ragged breaths and stuttering heartbeats that nearly overwhelms her senses until she feels Lena clench around her fingers, hips losing their rhythm as Lena comes with Kara's name on her lips.

Kara pulls her face away from Lena's neck just so she can look at her. Watch her come around her fingers and then relax, chest heaving with the effort of trying to catch her breath. Kara swears there can't be a more beautiful sight in the universe, especially not now, with the sun rising and bathing Lena's damp skin in early morning light. And as much as Kara tries to suppress it, there's a thought running through her head. A line from that stupid poem with its stupid cherry trees.

A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body...

"You're thinking very loudly," Lena whispers, already resting her head on Kara's shoulder as her fingertips play with the hem of Kara's shirt, "what are you thinking?"

For a second, Kara considers telling her, but Neruda's words aren't what comes out when she opens her mouth. "Just how beautiful you look," she says, which is in fact the truth. Kind of. She can't let Lena win every single time, right?

***

"Apparently the first cherry trees got here in 1910, but they had to burn them all because of a bunch of insects." Kara holds the little guide book in her hand as she reads, her other hand safely in Lena's as they walk along the Tidal Basin. "These ones are newer, from 1912."

"Oh, like the Titanic!" Lena looks delighted with the coincidence, and the bright smile on her face makes Kara lean in to steal a kiss from her lips. Her fiancée is super cute when she lets her inner dork show, if you ask Kara.

"See? I told you buying an actual guide book would be worth it!" Kara holds the small book in her hand with the pride of someone who's just won an argument (for once). "Where else are you going to get that kind of high quality trivia?"

"You do know the prototype L-Corp keychain I gave you last week can access Google, yes?"

"Not the same."

"Not to mention the actual supercomputers we all carry around in our pockets. Or the high-tech communicator in your wat--"

"Lena!" Kara groans. "Look around! The cherry blossoms! The quaintness of springtime! A romantic stroll along the river! Where's your sense of romance?"

Lena chuckles lightly, her free hand sliding up Kara's arm to wrap around her bicep. And Kara would complain about the obvious use of one of her many Lena-related weaknesses, but you know what? It works.

"Kara Danvers," Lena says, voice low and teasing, "that's all very poetic."

Kara rolls her eyes, but she can't quite stop the bright smile that's already appearing on her face. "Don't you start with me," she warns, not very convincingly.

Lena presses a kiss to Kara's shoulder, and it makes color rise to Kara's cheeks even through the soft fabric of her cardigan. Even after all these years. But she figures if there's one day to be particularly enamored with one's fiancée, that's the day she's scheduled to receive a Presidential Award for her contributions to science and the betterment of humanity.

Not to brag. But Kara is proud.

"I love you," Kara says, because she can't not, "and I'm just so proud, I--"

Lena presses a finger to Kara's lips, stopping what was potentially about to turn into a whole speech about the many ways in which Lena Luthor could not possibly be any more perfect if she tried.

"Kara," Lena warns, all cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips, "you promised. You promised you wouldn't cry before the actual ceremony."

And Kara would argue. She'd argue that she's perfectly capable of going on about Lena's many virtues without actually crying, but you know what? Her eyes are feeling just a tiny bit misty already so she's just gonna go ahead and trust Lena on this one.

"You know what I also love?" Kara presses a kiss to the pad of Lena's finger and obediently changes subjects. "Sushi. Let's go get some." Kara starts walking away from the beautiful soft pink trees and in the general direction of the street festival, tugging Lena along. She's all for the romance of blossom-watching, but she'd be lying if she said hearing about the culinary side of this whole festival hadn't excited her a bit more than that.

It's only when she hears a sigh coming from Lena that Kara's focus shifts from food to the woman next to her. That wasn't a happy sigh.

"Are you okay, baby?"

Lena smiles. It's not a fake smile, but there's a hint of something in it that isn't fully happy, either. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's just... between the cherry blossoms and all this talk of sushi, I guess it made me a bit nostalgic for Sendai."

"Sendai?" Kara looks at Lena with curiosity written all over her face. "What's Sendai?"

"Oh, it's a city in Japan. I lived there for a few months for an exchange when I was in college. Did I never tell you?" Kara shakes her head, her face the picture of delight at getting to learn something new about Lena. "There was this little restaurant near Tohokudai, I swear they had the best sushi in the world." Lena hums, letting her eyes flutter closed for a second like she's trying to imagine the taste. "I'd do anything for some negitoro maki from that place right about now."

Kara listens intently to her fiancée's words. She knows it's just a silly little comment. She knows Lena will be perfectly happy eating the undoubtedly delicious sushi currently being sold at the street festival. And yet.

She can't resist a chance to make Lena just that little bit happier, can she?

So Kara looks around to make sure they're not being watched, and lets go of Lena's hand. "Be right back."

"Where are you--?"

But all Lena gets is a quick kiss and a gust of wind on her face before Kara disappears.

She's only gone for a couple of minutes -- just enough for Lena to wander back towards the cherry trees -- and when she comes back she's holding a small box which she immediately presents to Lena.

"Sushi for my... sushi," Kara lets out a chuckle, her now-free hand coming up to scratch at the back of her head like she's aware she may have gone just a little bit overboard but she's hoping it won't be too much, "Sendai's beautiful, by the way."

Lena's smile is soft, and Kara has a feeling -- not to toot her own horn -- if she'd been listening she would've heard Lena's heart skip a beat.

"Kara Danvers," Lena sighs, shaking her head like that'll do anything to hide just how charmed she is right now, "you're something el-- what's that?"

"Nothing," Kara shifts slightly and puts her hand -- and the little carton box it's holding -- behind her back, fully intending on letting the focus of this moment be on her romantic gesture, but Lena raises one eyebrow and Kara loses her resolve. "Potstickers." Kara's voice is quiet as she shows Lena the box. "What? I was in the neighborhood!"

"In the neighborhood of," Lena squints slightly as she reads the words on the box, "Shanghai?"

"Well, China is next door to Japan, if you think about it."

Lena chuckles, clearly too charmed by this whole thing to even continue teasing Kara about it. "Thank you. For this. You didn't actually have to fly all the way to Japan to get my favorite sushi, but I appreciate it."

Kara shrugs, chopsticks already grabbing the first potsticker in the box. "I'd go way farther than Japan to make you happy. You know that."

"I do know," Lena nods, looking just a little thoughtful, like she's just now realizing she fully believes Kara would stop at nothing to make her happy, "you even promised when you proposed."

Lena wiggles her finger, flashing the kryptium ring that's been there for a few weeks now along with a teasing smile, and Kara can only shrug. "Well, I meant it," she says, popping the potsticker in her mouth and leaning against the trunk of a nearby cherry tree.

"I know," Lena says again, but this time she's smiling, amusement shining in her eyes, "if only Lex had figured out the one true way to have the world in the palm of your hand is to make a Kryptonian fall in love with you."

"To be fair, I really don't think your brother is Kal's type."

***

Eight hours later, they're seeing the Tidal Basin from above, the cherry blossoms looking nearly white in the moonlight. They could be in National City already, but Kara figures there's no reason why she can't take the scenic route with Lena in her arms and enjoy the view without the crowds and the bustle they experienced earlier today. Perks of being your own private jet.

"Go a bit lower, baby," Lena's voice is soft against Kara's ear, like she's afraid if she speaks too loud she'll break the spell and they won't feel like the only two people in the world anymore, "I want to see the flowers."

Kara doesn't make her wait. Lena's just been awarded an actual medal by the President, and spoiling her a little is the least Kara can do. So she dips until they're hovering just above the soft pink blossoms and then a little lower still, close enough that Lena can smell the sweet, fresh scent of Spring.

The night is clear and quiet, just cool enough for Lena to reach for Kara's cape and pull it forward to wrap it around herself. Kara holds her a little closer, just enough to hopefully provide a bit of extra warmth, and she figures it was the right move when Lena slips one arm from under Kara's cape to reach for the tree and pick a particularly pretty blossom from one of the branches that's closer to them.

Lena looks at it for a moment, twirling the little stem between her fingers like she's pondering what to do with it. And then she turns and tucks Kara's hair behind her ear, sliding the small flower between soft blond strands and smiling when she's satisfied it'll stay exactly where she wants it.

"Happy?" Kara chuckles, something soft and quiet and a little teasing because there's something equal parts amusing and endearing about Lena's perfectionism when it comes to silly little things like putting a flower in Kara's hair.

"Very."

And there's something about the way Lena smiles, more with her eyes than with her mouth, that makes Kara see, clear as day, just how serious Lena is. How sincere, when she says she's very happy.

Maybe that's why Kara gets a little transfixed just looking at her, suddenly aware of just how different this Lena -- the Lena wrapped in her arms and her cape, wearing her ring and smiling with a smile that's just Kara's -- is from the Lena she first met all those years ago.

"Kara Zor-El," Lena's voice is soft just like the sound of Kara's true name on her lips, "what are you thinking about?"

And Kara wishes she had the words to tell her. But how does she even begin to explain what she's feeling right now? How she's still the same Lena that made Kara's heart trip all over itself the first time she saw her, but she's so very different all the same time. Brighter. Lighter. Loved. God, she's so loved, and Lena knows it, finally, and that's what's different, maybe. Not just Kara's love, because Lena's had that from the very first day, probably, but the fact that Lena can feel it now.

How do you put that in words? I love you just doesn't feel like enough.

And then it hits her.

"I'm thinking," Kara smiles, cheeks pink with the knowledge that she's just been proven wrong, "about what Spring does to cherry trees."

#fic #fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fanfiction #supercorp

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ellstersmash · 3 years ago

Text

Not to Keep

Fandom: Mass Effect (Original Trilogy) Pairing: Kaidan x f!Shepard Rating: T for Teen (cw for alcohol use) Words: 2.7k [Read on Ao3]

shep and kaidan go undercover, set early in me1. this was originally a prompt for "fake relationship" from Leather & Lace Romance Week, but then I waited 3.5 years to finish it 🥀

It all seemed so simple. Infiltrate a wedding, extract intel on Benezia, use that to find Saren.

Easy-peasy.

Until Shepard shows up in the shuttle bay looking like that. They've only been working together for a couple of months, and Kaidan has seen her covered in blood spatter, dripping sweat post-PT—hell, even bare naked in a hotel room. But it’s safe to say he never thought he'd see her like this. Full makeup, soft curls, a long red dress that shouldn't fit anyone that perfectly, and, dangling from two fingers, a pair of classy black heels.

Kaidan swallows hard and gives her a curt nod. “Ma’am.”

“Alenko.” He shifts on his feet as her eyes travel the length of his body and back up, her cool stare giving nothing away. “You clean up nice.”

“Ah, thanks. And you look—”

“Oh, I'm dressed to kill.” Lips the same shade as her dress curve into a grin. “Figuratively, for once.”

Kaidan chokes and laughs, caught off guard in a mixture of nerves and surprise. “Was that a joke, Commander?”

Her expression narrows into a pinched, self-deprecating smirk. “If you have to ask, then no. And I definitely haven't been thinking about it since Williams zipped this damn thing up.”

The thought of his CO, this formidable woman, giggling to herself over a stupid joke for an hour is... well, it’s uncharacteristically cute. Kaidan rolls it around in his head for an indulgent minute, trying on the fit before letting the image go.

Just one more thing to jam into that Never Gonna Happen file.

“Right,” she says, back to business. “Let’s get this over with.”

They board the shuttle for the short trip to the venue, and go over the mission brief one final time: intel extraction remains their highest priority—one of their hosts, Polona T’Shan, was rumored to have a close business connection with the matriarch; protecting their cover is important, but heavy security is not expected; their false identity profiles should be enough to get them in the door, and from there the two of them will be responsible for avoiding unwanted attention by appearing as a couple.

Kaidan knows his own limits. He’s a soldier, not an actor. This pretending to be someone else, this lie, it isn't part of his training and it sure as hell isn't part of who he is. But if Shepard’s as nervous as he is, she isn't showing it.

She’s looking at him again, in that intense all-in way she sometimes does. Before her, he had never met someone who was aware of—and pursued—what they wanted with such confidence, such dogged determination, and to have that kind of focus set on him even for just a moment is… terrifying. In a good way, he thinks. It makes him feel warm and cold at the same time. It also makes him want to stare right back, but that way lies only trouble, and none of them need another helping. Not right now.

Kaidan leans back and rests his head on the cool, if slightly unsteady, inner shuttle wall as Shepard drums a rhythmless pattern into the space between their seats.

---

Kyra drains her glass.

As it turns out, Asari weddings aren't all that different from the few human ones she’s attended. Though this reception is a far more extravagant affair than she’s used to: four days of mingling and games and dancing and drinking and food. Really not her cup of tea.

And apparently not Alenko’s, either.

He’d made a beeline for the bar as soon as they’d entered, and returned with an easier stride and a glass full of some bubbling neon sugary shit for her. She’d have preferred something stronger, of course, but they do have a mission to complete. If they can manage to get Polona alone for a moment.

She slips her hand into the crook of his elbow and feels him stiffen, then relax. Quick and conscious. He’s nervous, out of place, on edge, and then completely calm and collected.

No doubt in her mind he was the right pick for this one.

The thought settles her stomach, and just in time. Two asari approach, their hands extended in enthusiastic welcome.

“Greetings!” one of them says, with a voice smooth and sweet as wildflower honey. “Oh, what a lovely pair you two make. Right out of the vids, could be. This one’s even better looking up close, don’t you think so, Liria?” The asari takes Alenko’s hand, sensual and deliberate, then turns her attention to Kyra. “And goddess, that dress is stunning; really, sweetie, it fits you like a glove. You”—she drags one finger down Alenko’s lapel—“are a lucky man, I hope you know.”

Eyes wide, he clears his throat and coughs, then regains his composure with a brief glance in Kyra’s direction.

The second asari offers an apologetic look to each of them in turn. “Rialla, darling, slow down or you’ll scare them off.”

“They certainly look sturdy enough.”

“I am so sorry. She’s had quite a bit to drink, I’m afraid. Never could pace herself at a wedding.” She laughs. “My name is Liria, and my companion’s name is Rialla, and ever since we saw you walk in, we have just been itching to get to know you.”

Kyra plasters what she hopes is a warm smile on her face, mentally pulling up her cover identity as reference. “Emily, and I’m delighted to meet you both. This is John, my um—”

“Her very lucky partner.”

The two matriarchs titter and tease him, both in turn, and once again he’s in control. Kyra can’t help but be impressed by how effortlessly he charms them. And she’s far from immune. It’s her mission, yet she is all too prepared to be led around the room by that firm hand at the small of her back.

Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko: respected Alliance Marine, powerful L2 biotic, all-around stand-up guy, and—apparently—a smooth son-of-a-bitch. It’s an unexpected feature for someone so soft-spoken and unpretentious. Like he has a hidden switch somewhere.

Or a button.

Press For Instant Charisma.

She briefly entertains the idea of hunting for it, then aborts the thought with a twist of her lips and tunes back in to the conversation.

---

The lie is getting easier. Shepard is tucked under Kaidan’s arm, and he’s almost comfortable.

Their new friends are exactly the right sort. Nosy, talkative, well into their cups, and connected. Old friends of their mark, both of them, and Liria has history with Benezia herself. Shepard spins her tale about a chance meeting with the missing matriarch at a charity benefit and their tapering correspondence, followed by a rumor igniting hope for reconnection. And they eat it right up.

All he has to do is act natural and help Shepard keep them talking.

“Well, you know Polona wasn’t only Benezia’s lawyer.” Liria leans in close, her voice not quite as hushed as she probably intended. “They were involved, some centuries back. Quite the scandal at the time, but then Benezia always had... selfish tendencies. Now, I’m not sure why they parted ways, or how serious it was, but—”

Not to be outdone, Rialla’s hands flutter for attention as she pipes in. “It must be more than a passing fling from two hundred years ago, though, because I heard that her Turian lover—or, well, husband now—almost called off this very wedding!”

“Really?” Shepard asks. What’s supposed to be idle curiosity is bordering on serious interest, her voice taking on a firm, interrogative quality to match her narrowed gaze, but a brush of his thumb on her shoulder and she reigns it in. Loosens up with a tilt of her head and a hand to his thigh that has him tensing up instead.

“Oh, yes,” Rialla says. “It was all very tenuous there for a while. And to think, then the four of us would never have met!”

Kaidan raises his glass with a smile as genuine as he can muster. “A tragic loss for us, to be sure.”

With a deep, warm smile, Rialla fans her face and leans in close to Shepard, but speaks for the whole table to hear. “Do let me know when you're finished with him, would you, dear? I think I may be quite in love.”

He's fine until Shepard smirks, then he's far too warm. Suffocating.

He tugs at his collar. “You think their, uh, conflict had something to do with Polona and Benezia’s involvement?”

“I seriously doubt it,” Liria says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “That was ages ago, not yesterday. Beni’s still pining after Aeth—”

Rialla laughs. “Oh, it’s Beni, now? I had no idea you were such intimate friends!”

“I’m 800 years old, my dear.” Liria scoffs. “I have quite a few friends you don’t know about.”

“Is that supposed to make me jealous?”

“Of course not, don’t be silly!”

“Silly? Goddess, must you always be so patronizing?”

“Must you always twist my words?”

“Oh, here we go!”

The situation spirals into chaos before either he or Shepard can recover it, and she stands up from the table, pulling at his elbow.

“I love this song,” she mutters pointedly, and leads him to the dance floor. It’s a slow number, thank god. He’s not nearly drunk enough to dance to something with a beat.

They sway slowly, and she presses close, his neck prickling underneath her palm. His own hands settle on her waist, then more naturally to her hips.

“Damn,” she whispers. “Damn.”

“I know. But hey, we’ve got the rest of the night. And tomorrow night. And the next night. And—”

“The next night, I know.” She groans and drops her head to his shoulder.

Kaidan smiles into her hair.

---

The night is officially over. The band is still playing, but most of the guests are gone, and despite making a number of connections, they’ve learned nothing more about Benezia's whereabouts.

They have, however, made decent use of the open bar.

Kyra downs the last of her champagne and orders a cocktail, dealer's choice. It arrives glowing and smoking and she takes the skyward trajectory of Alenko’s brows as a personal challenge not to hesitate.

A potent combination of peppermint and blueberries and battery acid hits the back of her throat and makes her head swim on contact.

Next to her, Alenko is nursing his third.

“How’s your drink?” he asks.

“Surprising.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Um… Yes.” She clinks her fingernail against his glass. “How’s your whiskey?”

He frowns and takes a sip. “This is not whiskey.”

“Didn’t realize you were such a connoisseur.”

“No, I mean it is literally not whiskey. Didn’t have it, I guess.” He drinks again. “It’s weird, right? Walk into any bar on Earth and they’ll have a dozen to pick from, but soon as you take off…”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “No burgers. No guac. No ice cream.”

The low chuckle he gives is a sound she’d like to hear again. And again, and again, and—

“When you put it like that, this spacer life is a real sorry existence.”

Kyra nods and wonders what he misses most from home. Or who. But that is none of her business, so she empties her glass and tips the bartender in preparation to leave.

“Sorry tonight was a bust, Shepard.”

“It wasn’t a total loss. Decent food, free booze.” She rests her chin on one closed fist. “Good company.”

“By that, I assume you mean our new asari friends.”

“Sure.”

Holding his gaze is harder than it should be. He cradles his nearly-empty glass and taps his fingers in sequence. Up and down, like a zipper.

At last, he looks away. “I was going to say ‘beautiful,’ by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“Earlier, before we left. I was going to tell you how incredible you looked, but then you interrupted me, and I never really got the chance to say it so I figured I might as well say it now.”

Warmth rises in her belly and she rides it like a wave, unscathed and unchanged on the other side. She turns to face him, wriggling in the seat in preparation like he’s about to try and upend her. “All right, Alenko. Hit me. I’m ready.”

He gives a huff of nervous laughter, one hand going straight to the back of his neck. “Well, uh... that was pretty much it.”

“That’s it? You waited all night to tell me that you were going to tell me I looked beautiful, but didn’t?”

His lips roll together, and he cedes the point with a tilt of his head, then meets her eyes again before his take a slow, uncertain wander around the rest of her features.

“Shepard,” he says when he makes it back, and it’s a name so overused it may as well be a title—but not spoken like that. Low and drawn out and a little bit reverent, it becomes almost intimate for the first time in years and she can't help but wonder how her first might sound.

“You look really beautiful tonight.”

Oh. Oh no. Kyra knows she should say thank you, and tell him to finish his drink so they can get out of here, but this next wave won’t subside and the air won’t reach her lungs and all she can do is stare at him.

“I mean, not just tonight, but especially—” he continues, visibly flustered by her silence. “You know, the dress and the lips—ah, make-up! And, and the hair and everything, it’s just very, um, tasteful, and… Um.” He clears his throat and pushes his drink away by inches, folding his hands tight together. "Feel free to stop me anytime.”

Ah. There. That’s the Alenko she knows and can handle.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” she says, sending a silent prayer of thanks to whichever god kept her voice from breaking.

The smile they exchange is soft and charged and it smooths him over. His eyes are brown. Kyra knew that already, but clinically. On paper. Hair: black. Eyes: brown. Year of birth: 2151.

She didn’t know it like this, tangibly, all wrapped up and swept away in a simple fact.

This time she’s the one to give in. “You know, you should really keep that button pressed, Alenko.”

“What?”

“The charisma button.” She jerks her head toward the door, grabs his hand for the sake of anyone who might still be awake and sober enough to notice, and leads him out. “Push it. More.”

“I— what?”

Kyra chuckles to herself and steps into the elevator. “Forget it.”

The doors close once she chooses a floor and she regrets taking his hand because now she has to let go.

Kiss me. Come on, Alenko. Quick, before we go back. She can’t think it any louder, can’t make it any clearer without crossing a line. Be better if he does it, but he won’t. She knows he wants to just like she knows he never will, because he’s a good soldier and a good soldier doesn’t fuck with the chain of command. Not without a compelling reason, at least, and she can’t give him one.

Their floor lights up and reality pours in. He follows her across the dock, at a distance now that no one who would care might be watching.

Kyra takes a sharp, deep breath. Three more nights of this—unless they can get their intel sooner. Three more nights of flirting and dancing and soft touches all for show and not to keep. Maybe she should have brought Williams after all. Or Garrus. Or anyone else.

Distracted, she nearly trips getting into the shuttle, and somehow he’s right there, a broad hand on her waist to steady her.

A nod and he detaches. Steps back. “Ma’am.”

Ma’am. But he is a terrible liar, and she’s never been good at a long con.

#mass effect #mass effect trilogy #mass effect fic #kaidan alenko #shenko #alcohol #ellster writes #kyra x kaidan #be gentle this is a collaboration with past me #one of us is a much better writer #no i wont tell you which #oh my god wrangling all these rogue italic spaces from before i learned how to format for ao3 is going to send me into a fit of rage #s/o to the 5 story subscribers stubborn enough to hang on

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goodduckingomens · 4 years ago

Text

Inheritance

Crowley was sitting in the office, draped in full mourning widow gear, complete with a long black veil, sniffling and occasionally dabbing at his eyes, completely ignoring the other people present who were glaring daggers at him.

“Well then, Misses Krepier, it seems that everything is in order, so I won’t keep you any longer and just give you the keys to the estate. My condolences to your husband passing so soon after marriage, but at least you are already in the will. As for you, gentlemen, I am sorry, but the will stated clearly that the estate was only to be auctioned off for charity in case no wife was present, so I’m afraid you came for nothing.”

Crowley thanked the man again with a high, quivering voice, signing the documents and grabbing the keys.

Then he left the office before he couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore.

His plan had gone exceptionally well, with only very little manipulation of official legal documents, and had allowed him to both piss off people and secure-

“Excuse me, madam, do you have a second to talk about your late husband’s collection of rare books?” came a familiar voice from his right as he stepped out of the building, and he turned.

There he was, Aziraphale, all polite smiles and very obviously with no idea who exactly stood before him. Crowley decided to have a bit of fun.

“Oh, how dare you! He isn’t even buried yet and already come the vultures, circling what’s left of him in this world. Oh, woe is me, this poor, weak woman, who now is left with obligations and no husband! Off you go, may you hang your head in shame!” he screamed, hysterically, accusatory, voice still high and quivering.

The angel had the decency to indeed hang his head in shame, and Crowley nearly lost it right there.

“Oh, oh dear, yes, of course, so sorry for your loss,” he mumbled, almost reflexively.

Then he stopped and narrowed his eyes.

“…Crowley? Is that you?”

Crowley, unable to hold back any longer, laughed.

“Oh, oh it IS you! You fiend! Impersonating a poor woman to steal her rightful inheritance, oh, you-”

“Ahh, shaddup, I’m not impersonating anyone. And you’re just annoyed with me because you already made first dibs arrangements with the charity people. Which, by the way, is a terrible, terrible charity, really angel, you need to start looking into that stuff. They support putting down their strays and all.”

Aziraphale huffed and puffed and would probably have blown a house down if Crowley hadn’t continued.

“And they promised dibs to at least 20 other people. Meanwhile I surely could be persuaded to give someone exclusive rights,” he purred.

The angel’s indignation evaporated like self-respect in a college bet.

“Oh! Oh, well then. Would you care join me for dinner, to talk about the details?”

“Only if you kiss my hand, Mr. Fell,” Crowley laughed. “I have to make the most of my potential to scandalize people while I’m still in mourning.”

The angel rolled his eyes, but he did bow down deeply, taking Crowley’s hand and placing a delicate kiss first on the wrist, and then, turning it, on the palm. Crowley was suddenly very glad for the veil hiding his face, even if, judging by the look Aziraphale gave him when he got back up, the bastard knew anyway.

“Well then, my dear, shall we? I know a lovely Italian restaurant just around the corner. We can talk business and you can tell me how you came to be the late Mr. Krepier’s wife.”

Crowley took the angel’s outstretched arm, making sure to wave daintily at the charity man glaring at the pair of them.

He threw his head back and laughed.

“Oh, you know what they say, angel. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas – except for legally binding contracts.”

Read the rest of the prompts HERE.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #Listen Crowley presents female here but he still uses male prnouns because he wants to dont at me #i did actually stop and think about this #my writing #my stuff #nendrab #march prompts

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smallraindrops-blog · 3 years ago

Note

hi! could you do a hypnos x male! reader for the prompt worry? and if you're able to make a continuation of the Sweatshirt one because that one was just ugh- SO GOOD

Time Ain't Got Nothing On Me

Prompt: worry

1.4

Warning: family issues, no beta. Implied sex but mainly just cuddling and kissing.

A/N: Sorry for the wait, anon. I am so glad you like Sweatshirt! Hope you like this one just as much and its set in the same universe as Sweatshirt. Enjoy!

You were perfectly aware you looked like a gremlin hunched over your laptop as your only source of light with a mug half full of coffee, crumbled wrappers of protein bars and an open bottle of B12 on your desk.

Thankfully Hypnos wasn't around to see his totally normal boyfriend turned into a feral graduate student working on the final edit of his research paper.

Hypnos had to tend to family business matters and he wasn't exactly happy about it or that he had to be gone for a week. Hypnos had taken up to offering part time help and he claimed that it was only for pocket money. It was a lie but you didn't call him out on it. You knew it was Hypnos' last ditch attempt to save his relationship with his mom and twin.

You fiddled your sleeve, the red sweatshirt that had become something of a safety blanket for you over the past year and half You have been together with Hypnos. You slumped into the sweatshirt, It still smelled like him and his cologne.

But you much rather have him home right now. You looked back at the research work, the blue light harsh on your tired eyes.

For what had to be for the ten million times, you asked yourself why in the world you thought going grad school was a good idea.

You stared at your screen, none of the words even looked like words anymore. Were words even real? Or just sounds humans made to uselessly fight the crushing void of time?

You reached for your mug and took a sip, only to spit out the coffee. You scowled at your mug and told yourself to get up and make more coffee.

You put the mug back down and promptly forgot about the cold coffee. You went to the next page and stared at the words, willing them to make sense to you.

"Y/N? Babe?"

You slowly looked up from your laptop and saw Hypnos standing in the den's doorway, a suitcase by his feet.

It was the one few times you saw him dressed up and not in a pair of torn jeans or basketball shorts. Hypnos wore a black wool coat that hid the suit he wore under and a red scarf with a pair of black gloves. He looked like one of those businessmen who had more money than god.

He looked good, really good.

You blushed, knowing you looked like a mess next to Hypnos. You quickly start picking up your trash."I thought you were coming back in three days." You croaked.

Hypnos turned the light on before he walked over, "I ditched at first chance I got. I got the important bits taken care of, the rest of it was just rich clients jerking off to their own smell."

You tossed most of the trash in the small trashcan next to you, hating how gross you felt. At least you showered this morning and wore clean clothes today.

Hypnos tugged you closer, his hand cool on your elbow. You went willingly and returned the hug. You could smell the cold on him along with his cologne and signed happily.

"How were your mom and brothers?" You moved back but stayed in his arms.

"They're...Good." Hypnos muttered, his eyes darted away for a second before he looked back at you.

You frowned at him, not liking Hypnos' caginess. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm just jetlagged." Hypnos smiled weakly.

"Hypnos." You warned. Hypnos slumped, a rueful look on his face. "Mom is getting ready for retirement. And Thanatos is getting more pushy about me fully rejoining the family business."

"You don't have to even help as much as you already do, they do realize that right?" You asked flatly. "You are already doing this stuff along with twitch and helping your friend make that video game."

"I know, Y/N, but It's my family." Hypnos shook his head, "We can talk about it later. I'm really happy to be back home with you. You look really good in my sweatshirt by the way."

You softened despite yourself and cupped his face. "I miss you."

"I missed you too." Hypnos tilted your chin up to give you a slow kiss.

"And actually food that ain't covered in gold leaf." Hypnos pulled away, holding on your chin. "How does taking a break for tonight with some Chinese food sound?"

Your stomach growled,"Sounds perfect. The usual?"

"Yeah you're okay ordering?" Hypnos asked. You nodded and he kissed you again quickly this time. "Thanks, I'm going to get out of this ugly outfit."

"You look good to me." You told him, rubbing your fingers on the wool coat.

"I look like a funeral director." Hypnos rolled his eyes.

"Hmm, I would let you direct me." You teased, pulling him into another kiss by his collar. He chuckled against your lips, "Duly noted."

💤

On a cold, dark and rainy morning you and Hypnos had made the hard choice of staying in bed.

Hypnos was pressed against your side, dozing on your shoulder. You played with his hair, letting one curl hold on your finger.

You checked your emails on your phone for your final grade, only to see nothing and sighed.

Two minutes laters, you repeated the action and sighed again.

"The more you check, the longer it will take." Hypnos said lowly. His hand ran down your chest and you silvered a bit. His hand stopped above your hip.

"Sorry did I wake you?" You asked, dropping your phone somewhere on the bed.

Hypnos gave a yawn, his eyes still closed. "No. You know you got this, right? You're like one of the smartest people I know."

You blushed at the casual compliment, and pressed a kiss between his eyebrows. Hypnos wrinkled his nose, and opened his eyes.

"I'm just worried. If I don't pass…" you trailed off.

"You will. You won arguments against Thanatos and he's some big shot lawyer." Hypnos squeezed your hip. "I can help you keep you busy if you like."

You just hummed, not saying anything. Hypnos pressed kisses against your shoulder, working his way to your neck. You found yourself slowly giving in when your phone buzzed with an alert.

"Wait-wait hold on." You rolled over and looked with bated breath. You groaned when you saw it was just an app alert.

Hypnos laid on your back, looking over your shoulder. He reached over and pulled the phone out of your hand. He pressed the off button.

"No more phone time until dinner." He told you.

You mumbled your agreement and kissed Hypnos' arm in lieu of an apology.

💤

Food is the only reason Hypnos ever leaves the bed but even then, it was a fight to get him out sometime.

"I'm hungry, Hypnos." You whined as he tightened his hold.

"Just a little longer." He muttered against your skin. "I know you're dying to check your phone."

"Can you blame me?" You sighed. "Hypnos. Please." You dragged out the please. Hypnos huffed and loosen his hold.

"You're lucky I love you so much." Hypnos pouted. You pressed a kiss against his nose, "Thank you for keeping my mind off of school." You reclaimed your phone and turned it on as you walked into the kitchen.

"I love you too!" You called back.

You had opened the fridge when you saw the email.

You opened it, heard pounding. You read and reread it again.

"Well?" Hypnos asked, pulling an white shirt over his head. He was trying not to show his nervousness.

You looked up, "I passed. I am officially done with school." You said numbly, not really comprehending that it was done. All those late nights, and studying were done.

It was over.

Hypnos cheered and hugged you firmly. "I told you so. Smartest person I know."

You laughed,"I will never have to think or even read ever again."

Hypnos snorted, "Good luck with that. You love overthinking about everything and reading."

"Well, I have a boyfriend who knows how to help me not think." You told him.

You still had a lot of worries, Hypnos and his family, about what life will look like without school.

But here in this moment with Hypnos you just existed, happy and in love.

#hades hypnos #hypnos x reader #hypnos x male!reader #requests

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