#I’m usually embarrassed about being excited and posting so genuinely but it enough people are unhinged enough about this so the task is mine
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aloeverawrites · 11 months ago
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I’m so unwell about My Beloved Detective and I’m upset tumblr doesn’t talk about it more actually-
It’s unhinged, very feminist and I just, I can’t just it’s hilarious-
Please watch it,
Potential spoilers under the cut
So first of all a detective agency where Watson and Holmes stay at Baker street to be like the Conan Doyle books is just hilarious like who decided this-
And Shirley says she isn’t the real Sherlock Holmes but she’s one of the best adaptations of the character I’ve ever seen.
Jane Watson so Watson too I love her-
Shirley and Watson break into a Bachelor’s club in drag, which the whole time I couldn’t tell of the club was extremely sexist or gay or both (probably both) and someone says two imposters are in the club but can’t identify them. So the guys who have crushes on them stand up, declare that they’re secretly women and leave follows by whispers of “I always knew it”. Also everyone was being asked to prove they’re a man by either swearing on a gentlemen’s word or apparently ending an iron poker which is apparently preferable to this club then being a woman, which causes zero property damage but anyway-
And the swearing on your word as a gentlemen apparently works because everyone is too wholesome to straight lie, Watson is having a mini panic attack I just love these people-
Not to reveal too much but a character has to do a song and dance apology to another which is just everything to me.
And Lestrade feels like he misjudged Holmes so to make it up he offers to Marry Her and asks Biggs to marry Watson so they can and I quote “sit by the fire and read Conan Doyle.” Which honestly just seems like a convoluted way to propose to Biggs considering that bromance going on, but Biggs turns him down saying he’s already read the books so Lestrade calls off the weddings. (Plural.) Man was either ready to get married for a book club or just wanted an excuse to hang out with Biggs and either way I Stan.
We also have Holmes through people around martial arts style which is just so damp and I love it.
And Holmes and Watson kissing (you pay attention to this modern adaptations you hear me) and then Watson going back to the car to her bf while Holmes walks off into the fog, wiping her eyes. (My poor baby does not want to share her qpp but wants Watson to be happy I love her-) It really represents Holmes’ aroaceness that I love and is really relatable for when the friends you platonically love pay more attention to their romantic partners and leave you feeling a bit left out. I love the representation.
Then Lestrade meets up with her and he seems to like her a bit but to me this seems like the start of their very strong friendship that defined his role in the books and I love it honestly.
And I also love “Biggs came with me.”
-little voice from the fog, “I did sir!”
“He’s afraid to leave me alone.”
What, what is this I love this.
And Holmes being like “Men should never be alone, especially not in the fog,” and walking him home like what a gentlewoman I love her. It’s also funny like Lestrade was a raging sexist by the start of this but he was still like “Come on Biggs you can’t speak over women and you have to let them go through the door first,” like man is the king of benevolent sexism.
And also the parallel between the sexist way they expected the women to behave and the things that the men actually did. Also the movie didn’t have any Chekhov’s guns, everything we were introduced to became important.
Also in the start they were talking about Holmes dressing in drag for cases so when Shirley showed up that’s what I thought was going on, was not expecting the gender bend. When I did realise Holmes was a woman I subconsciously decided that this meant she’d transitioned and even after they explained about the detective agency choosing someone named Holmes to match the book I low key stuck with that and I love it. Holmes and Watson transitioned and invented Conan Doyle as as excuse my reality is amazing you should join me-
So yeah, in conclusion, this movie is amazing please watch it so I’m not the only one losing my mind. I’m queuing this so I’ll be reminded to watch the other moves bc apparently op’s taste is impeccable.
the first officially gay sherlock holmes was in 1970, the first kiss between holmes and watson in 1986, the first "i love you, watson" said by holmes was in 2001, the first love confession from watson to holmes was in 2021
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onmyyan · 2 years ago
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Sharing is Caring (2/3)
A/N:OKAY BABES ITS HERE AHHHAGGH SO EXCITED THIS TOOK AGES BEC LIFE N SHIT BUT ANYWAY WHOOO SO EXCITED Anyway few things, this chapter gets kinda steamy but all the explicit smuts will be in part 3 its gonna be pure filth, after editing this mf came out to 28.3 pages and 10,275 words so I had to split it up, for those of you disappointed by the lack of horny never fear, the smut chapter is about 60% done and as soon as I post this I'm going back to working at it anyway please enjoy hope you like it!! feedback is welcome. Mi amada = My beloved
TW'S: YANDERE, KIDNAPPING, WEED MENTION, PAST MURDER MENTION
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To say your day had been a bad one would have been putting it lightly.
It started out fine enough, you awoke to several of your usual good mornings, each Delmont had their own unique way of greeting you, and after taking the time to sleepily respond to each of them, you started your morning routine, fighting the urge to fall back into the warmth of your bed, your eyes struggled to remain open.
See you'd spent the better half of last night scrolling through your personal feeds, hours upon hours of cute couples blaring their love in your face, blatant affection everywhere you looked, shameless PDA, and grand romantic gestures.
The tooth-rotting fluff didn't usually bug you, but something about this particular onslaught of romance brought out this tidal wave of loneliness and envy.
It felt murky and heavy and you hated every second of it.
The five Delmont boys had grown into your found family, and usually, their antics didn't allow you the space to feel alone, but even that immense affection couldn't fill the hole that had steadily begun to grow in your chest.
Years upon years of no one showing genuine romantic interest in you had slowly but surely carved out a pit of self-loathing in your gut. Something you managed to hold off being consumed by until now.
Falling in love seemed like such an expected life event, from movies to songs and stories, people falling in love were everywhere you looked, and even though the little voice in your head tried to reassure you that you were just a late bloomer, the dark thoughts still haunted you well into the morning.
Brushing your teeth with a focused vigor, your mind began to reel as you stopped to really think about it all, the state of your love life or rather, lack thereof, how you've never been in a relationship, never been on a date, hell if it weren't for Marcos, you'd have to add never been kissed to the pitiful list, the older twin had been your first and only kiss when you were seventeen, but that was just him being a good friend in your time of need, of that you were certain.
You can remember it so clearly, sitting idly in your room, still living at the Delmont house, you'd been silently stewing in your sadness for a few hours by the time he found you.
What brought on this sour mood was a few offhanded jokes at your expense, you know those people you're only 'friends' with in class? Well, one of those girls, Lisa, had teased you relentlessly for the entire hour of biology when you'd accidentally let it slip you'd never kissed someone before.
And while she may have been joking, the words still left the strangest sting in your stomach, it made you feel weird, an odd cocktail of shame and embarrassment, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to kiss someone, you just didn't have many- scratch that, any options.
No one but the boys ever talked to you at school, for some strange reason, everyone else seemed to avoid you like the plague, cruel whispers of your name said behind even crueler stares, the twins usually swooped in before you could think to question the odd looks, but it was impossible not to notice.
Marcos found you curled into a fetal position on your bed, stuffed animals surrounding you in a protective barrier, he'd originally come upstairs with the intention of collecting you for dinner, there was this unspoken rule between the boys that whoever brought you down got to sit next to you at the table, but when he entered he could practically feel your sadness hanging in the air, his brows furrowed at the sight, instantly clocking your upset mood, he quickly switched gears, his face scrunching in visible concern.
One thing about Marcos was his inability to hide how he was feeling.
"What's wrong? What happened?" he toyed with the small silver ball in his ear, his nerves on edge at the sight of that look on your face, he hated seeing you upset, all the boys did, he didn't wait for an answer before rushing the rest of the way inside, kicking the door shut with his foot.
"No Co'- I'm fine, just tired." You used his nickname, trying in vain to put on a brave face but you knew in your heart of hearts that trying to lie to a Delmont was all but impossible. "Is dinner done? I hope she made adobo again god it's so good-" You tried to get up and walk downstairs but he stopped you with a gentle push of your shoulders, gently leading you back into a seated position, he gave a comforting squeeze before letting go, now standing before you with his hands on his hips, the image made you want to laugh, he looked a lot like his mother when she was about to scold him for something.
"Nah- we ain't leaving this room till you tell me what's up."
His insistence caused you to roll your pretty (e/c) eyes at the taller male, the way you crossed your arms, paired with that damn pout on your lipgloss-lined lips was a foul combo that had his heart skipping all kinds of beats. It took all his willpower not to squish your cheeks together.
"Why do you assume something's up?" 
"Cuz' I know you dummy." He said so softly, it immediately disarmed you, his hand gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and you felt your chest tighten at the action.
"I swear I'm good okay? Can we just go eat? My stomach is touching my back." Usually, by this point, your puppy-dog eyes would make him fold, he was, and still is, rather weak to your whims, but he held strong.
Flopping beside you on the bed, he shuffled to lay on his right side, making sure to maintain eye contact, his hand began toying with one of his longer necklaces, his red eyes rolling as he spoke, "Mhm, right, okay. Quick question, how are you sitting there so calmly when your pants are clearly on fire?"
You gasped laughing slightly, "How dare you come into my domain and call me a liar? Have you no shame?" He smiled to himself knowing his plan to cheer you up was working, "C'moooon tell me whats wronggggg- I won't stop whining till ya fess up pleaseeeeeeee-" you threw a pillow at his head, "Okay! okay just shut up! Damn.."
You felt yourself hesitate, as if not speaking the words made them any less true.
"-Lisa kinda clowned me in class today cuz' I," the words turned to ash on your tongue, the embarrassment flushing your skin with an uncomfortable heat, to be admitting something so childish to someone as promiscuous as Marcos, felt all the more humiliating, and you didn't think you could handle him laughing at you.
"You can tell me anything Mi amada." You could hear the sincerity in the soft way he spoke, all playfulness gone.
How seriously he took your emotions managed to ease your fear of rejection enough to blurt out, "I haven't ever um- kissed anyone, and it made me feel, I dunno kinda bad I guess?" you laughed softly, that uncomfortable wave of shame echoing through your body, "She was just kiddin' around." You added that last bit knowing how overprotective he could get, god forbid he told Manny, you tried again to laugh it off, beginning to play with the ears of the blue stuffed bunny Gabe had given you years ago, the action was a wonderful alternative to holding Marcos's now burning stare.
He was quiet for a moment which was concerning since Marcos was never quiet. Suddenly sitting straight up, he ever so softly took the stuffed bunny from your hands to interlock your fingers. His intense, warm gaze held you frozen in place like a statue.
His tongue poked out to flick over his bottom lip, a nervous tick of his, and he swallowed before whispering,
"Kiss me then."
Marcos spoke it so softly, sounding so breathless. You laughed on instinct, thinking he was teasing, but when he remained silent, smiling at you like you held all the stars in the sky, you felt the heat crawl up your skin.
"Ha ha very amusing Co'-" you threw a pillow toward his chest with your free hand, "Cides' I don't want my first one to be some kinda' pity kiss from my best friend because he felt bad." Once more you played it off, trying desperately to ignore the funny feeling that had blossomed in your stomach, waiting for him to quit the game and stop the joke.
Only Marcos wasn't laughing.
"Who the fuck said anything about pity? You should know me well enough by now- I never say anything I don't mean." He leaned over, close enough where you could see the small constellation of freckles just under his eyes, you'd never noticed them before. He was far enough away not to pressure you, but the invitation was clear. 
"But- we, um I-" Your mind was racing with hundreds of thoughts, and as if he sensed this, he let go of one hand to brush the hair from your face, his thumb lingering to swipe across your cheek in a feather-like touch, it felt like he had electricity in his fingertips, he stared into your eyes with an intensity you couldn't quite place.
"Don't think so hard." He smiled as he spoke, the words whispered against your lips, you were so close you could feel each of his shaky exhales, he looked back and forth from your eyes to your lips, waiting on bated breath for your response.
Allowing your eyes to flutter shut, you relaxed your posture and simply fell into the moment, now both of his hands were on your face, pulling you in that much deeper, his lips were soft and tasted faintly of cherry chapstick, one of his hands moved to cradle the back of your neck, holding you against him as he moved his mouth against yours in what felt like a well-practiced dance. His tongue swiped against your plush lips ever so slightly as you pulled away, skin flushed and hearts pounding.
He didn't allow the budding tension to take over, instead, he sat back with his familiar grin. "There, easy fix." he swiped at his lips with his thumb, sticking the appendage between his teeth in a daring display. The way you tasted, how perfect you felt in his arms, he could feel the addiction settling in, and happily surrendered himself to it.
He knew at that moment no one else would ever compare to you, to the way you made him feel. And despite how simple, the relatively innocent kiss you just shared was, it had him the hardest he'd ever been in his life, thankfully you seemed so flustered and dazed he was able to hide the tent in his pants with a well-placed pillow.
You'd both gone down to dinner after locking pinkies and swearing never to tell another soul, you assuming he simply didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about you two, but really he was covering his ass, knowing if any of the others found out he'd gotten to be your first kiss, he wouldn't be walking for a while, Gabe had promised to break both ankles if he ever touched you, a threat he knew was no joke, but to Marcos, it was well worth the risk, he hated seeing you so upset about something he could very easily change, so he did, and he couldn't be happier.
The two of you had matching, knowing smiles on your faces that night, he even shot you a wink before bed, you couldn't get the giddy feeling to go away for weeks, even though you knew it was just him being a good friend, the warmth that had blossomed couldn't be undone. 
These spiraling thoughts haunted you like a ghost, that is until you looked down at your coffee pot and remembered the cute guy who slipped you his number a few days ago. Normally you'd just let the small piece of paper go unused, too afraid to make a fool of yourself to actually reach out, but today was different.
Fueled by your melancholy thoughts, you quickly texted him before you could talk yourself out of it, and it seemed to be going well, the banter was flirty enough, if nothing else it would be fun to play dress up, so you began a feverish rush to get ready, and in that time, Manny had invited himself in while you rushed through a shower.
The redhead did this often, so you didn't blink when you heard him enter in his usual brand of loud. "Oh, honey I'm home!"
"In the shower!" You felt rude leaving him out there so you sped through the last of your routine and found him lying comfortably on your bed, face buried in his phone. He offered you a familiar, wolf-like grin before turning his attention back to the screen, you'd known him so long the action of dressing in front of him wasn't anything to bat an eye at, "Sorry- didn't know you were coming over or I woulda' showered sooner, you don't mind if I get ready right?"
"Mmhm" was his simple response so you continued with your routine, rambling nervously about your plans.
He appeared as chipper as usual, that is until you told him about your date, it was as if the energy in the room shifted into something- else.
He seemed to be in this state of disbelief, questioning how and when this happened, ignoring the sting in your chest at the thought of him not believing you, and all the ugly thoughts it brought up, you continued to browse through your wardrobe, hoping the search for a cute set of bottoms would help you push through your nerves about it all before you could ask why he found the concept so unbelievable, you'd heard his rushed goodbye, the slam of the door made you jump in place, nearly dropping the garment because that was weird as hell.
Manny always hugged you goodbye, so his running off made you pause, it was instinctual for you to comfort him when he got worked up in that way only Manny could, so you were just about to call him to double-check but were interrupted by your date's number popping up on the screen.
His name was Michael and he sounded so shy when he called to double confirm your attendance, you found his eagerness cute. you silently vowed to check in with your friend after the date and hyped yourself for the night to come.
As the evening began, you found yourself waiting idly by the table, he'd chosen a bit of an upscale bistro as your meeting spot so you felt the need to dress up a bit, a cute black turtleneck dress covered your body like a second skin, hugging your curves in all the right ways, the cashmere number was a gift from Gabe ages ago, and his flustered reaction to seeing you come out of that dressing room is what pushed you to bring it home, you knew your ass looked incredible in the outfit, paired with the knee length, black crushed-velvet boots, you felt hot as hell and were excited to see your date's reaction.
Only you never got the chance.
Thirty minutes go by with no sign of Michael.
What was supposed to be a fun night out quickly soured into an evening of humiliation as your date ignored your call for the third time since you'd arrived. You felt the shame creep up as you faced the cold hard fact, you'd been stood up.
Feeling utterly stupid for getting all primped and preened for some douche who didn't even have the nerve to cancel, you resigned yourself to the sad reality. 
I mean he asked you out! He even bothered to make sure you were coming, all that to so coldly blow you off?
A disheartened breath escaped your lips as you let your head meet the table with a thunk. You quickly excused yourself from the restaurant, tossing the money for the wine you'd had with shakey hands. Tears had rushed to your eye, building at the waterline, but you didn't want to cry, not yet.
You'd done well not to fall to the urge to curl up and sob, kicking your boots off at the door, uncaring of the way they nearly knocked over a plant, it wasn't until a second later when the silence of your home became glaringly loud, did it all become too much.
Throwing yourself onto the couch, you buried your face in the soft cushion and wept like a baby. Shoulders shaking, voice cracking cries left your form. After a good fifteen minutes of crying as hard as you could, you wiped at your flush face and shuffled your way to the bottle of some half-empty whiskey, Marcos had left in your cabinet ages ago.
He'd pitch a full fit if he saw you chasing his 100$ liquor with the Coke you had in your fridge, the thought of the male made a new round of sobs bubble past your wet lips, you'd always held a candle of affection for the tall redhead, of course, you loved all of the Delmont's but you'd always had a little crush on Marcos, you compared it to the feeling of crushing on a celebrity, where your subconscious mind knows they're out of reach, so it feels like a harmless fantasy.
Love came to him so effortlessly, and he discarded it just as easily, the nasty feeling of envy came up and you quickly shook your head, choosing to drown the thoughts in the burning amber liquid rather than face them.
About an hour after your failed excursion, you found yourself resting comfortably on the kitchen floor, back pressed into the cool metal of your fridge, the whiskey bottle now empty, you'd taken to rolling it back and forth between your foot and the wall, allowing yourself to just be lost in the hazy sensations around you.
The shrill ring of your doorbell burst your blissfully drunk bubble.
"Go 'way.." you slurred from your rather relaxed position on the floor, the sexy outfit you'd put on just to show off was bunched at your waist for comfort, the knock came again, this time followed by the voice of one of your best friends.
"Sugarplum? It's us, can we come in?" Manny whined from behind the wood, you could practically see the pout on his face, of course, he had a key so it was really more of a formality than an actual question.
He didn't wait for your response, instead shuffling his way inside, the greasy takeout in his hand had you crawling across the floor to meet him halfway. 
A happy and clearly drunk gasp left your wine-stained lips, "Manny! you didn't gimmie a hug earlier what was up with that?-Oh shit is that Taco Bell?" He made a noise of agreement holding the bag towards you. "Sure is, and m'sorry about before Hun, I was in a mood but I promise it wasn't your fault."
His voice was like warm sugar as he spoke, now kneeling beside you, he held his arms out eagerly accepting the somewhat sloppy hug you threw his way. "Now, can you let Marcos pick you up so you can eat baby?" His hands rubbed up and down your arms, bringing goosebumps to the surface.
With a few slow but determined nods, you happily agreed, turning to face Manny's other half.
The older of the two had squatted down beside you, his ring-clad hand moved to brush a few sweat-soaked curls from your head. "Hey princess." He smiled softly at your pretty flushed face, the way you stared up at him, had his pulse thumping. "Heeey good lookin' you come here often?" You threw your hands around his neck which gave him the perfect opportunity to scoop you up, he led you to the couch, setting you down as if you were made of porcelain. He sent his twin a subtle nod as he moved you.
"How was your date?" Marcos's honey-dipped voice cooed from his position beside you, the action sent vibrations down your back making you flinch away from him with an airy giggle. "Wellllll, kinda hard to rate it when the guy doesn't show up." You sighed hastily digging through the bag Mammy had given you.
"What a scumbag- I'd never leave you by your lonesome like that." He cupped your flushed cheek, gently rubbing his thumb along the underside of your jaw. Food momentarily forgotten you dropped the bag in your lap, shoulders sagging with all the weight of the failed night, "Promise?" You asked, getting teary-eyed all over again.
He felt his chest tighten at the sight, as pretty as you looked right now, he was the only one allowed to make you cry, anyone else doing it was basically a war crime in his eyes. "Cross my heart and hope to die, baby." He threw an arm over the couch allowing you space to cuddle into his side.
When you were good and comfy he turned you to face him with the lightest touch to your chin, "You see this?" He slipped the ring on his pointer finger off, and gently lowered the band around your thumb. "This makes my promise official."
Manny had suddenly appeared before you, a small cup in his hands.
"Hey sweetie, you finished off Marco's bottle huh?" He smiled at the dazy way you nodded yes, fighting the urge to gush over your cuteness, "Well I don't want you to be sick tomorrow, can you take these for me? Good girl." You'd opened your mouth without question, having nothing but trust in the two men before you, you let him hold the cup to your lips and swallowed, mumbling a sleepy "thank you." into the skin of Marco's neck. His full body shiver goes unnoticed by you.
The twins watched you fall under with laser-focused eyes, the hardest part would be peeling Marcos away from you long enough for him to do his job.
Once they had both you and your stuff tucked away snugly in the car, Manny insisted on being in the back with you, holding you close to his chest, in your sleep, you held him back, quickly becoming overwhelmed by all the good emotions pumping through his veins- at his love for you, he felt himself get a bit teary at the sight of you finally where you belonged, safe in his arms.
Marcos made good and sure to wipe away any evidence of them being there, and all but ran back to their car to begin the long drive to your forever house.
Back at said home, the eldest of the brothers was doing one last walkthrough to make everything perfect for his Honey's arrival.
Caspian had managed to make the home feel lived in from the few hours he had to prep, a fully stocked kitchen, your favorite scent wafting gently through the air, Ricky had the foresight to install dimmer switches in every room because he knew how you loathed the 'big light', your bedroom had the biggest bed Caspian had ever seen, he'd made sure everything was ready for your arrival, even taking the time to warm your blankets in the dryer.
He moved around the space with a fluidness surprising for someone of his size, already familiar with the layout, the eldest Delmont made his final rounds around the home, making extra sure all the locks and exits were secure, he knew eventually, you'd come to love it here, but he also understood you'd need some time to adjust, these were just precautions.
He nearly squealed when he got the text from the twins, you were finally here! Finally home. He couldn't wait to hug you, kiss you, and give you all the affection he'd been forced to hold back. But he was a patient man and knew you'd be overwhelmed if he did, so instead, he settled for scooping you out of the car, much to his younger brother's displeasure.
You snuggled into his warmth in your sleep, to which he couldn't help but coo over. "Welcome home Honey," he whispered into the crown of your head, a small kiss left as he gently, but hurriedly rushed you inside and away from the snowfall that had just begun.
Manny nearly tackled his twin when they entered their new house, his energy was off the roof, practically buzzing in place as he took in their dream home. The living room had a 70's style conversation pit where you all could relax and they could smother you in the affection you so clearly needed.
A part of him was still bitter about the date, not at you, never at you, but the feeling was there, and all he wanted to do right now was hold you to his chest and let the lull of your heartbeat calm him down. Marcos plopped himself on the soft cushioned couch with a troubling sigh and waved him over.
"What's up? You got a weird look on your face." Manny couldn't fathom his twin being anything other than elated right now, so the odd air around him didn't sit well with the youngest.
"C'mere for a sec Little man- we gotta go over some ground rules before she wakes up." Manny's smile fell as he complied, sitting with a pout, "Ground rules are how we ended up here in the first place." He all but sneered, arms crossed in visible frustration.
Marcos held his hands up in a show of surrender. "I get it, but this is different."
"I know you're excited, god I am too, but there's a real chance she won't be too happy when she wakes up." The older of the two now sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees as he tried to find the right words to explain to his other half.
"What do you mean? This house was literally made for us all, we're in the woods like she's always talked about- she's gonna love it!" Marcos sighed taking his younger brother's hand, already he could feel him panicking at the thought of this going anything but swell. 
"Think about it like this bud, she has no idea how we feel, this is gonna be the first time she hears it, and we feel a lot, so we gotta be delicate."
Manny felt his face scrunch in confusion, not able to understand why you wouldn't be happy. You'd never have to lift a finger again, no more bills, work or slimy coffee house creeps to prey on your sweetness, he knew you'd be your happiest here!
"Not to mention the whole waking up somewhere she didn't fall asleep thing." He licked his bottom lip, knowing he had to toe the line in fear of causing his younger brother's next breakdown.
"I'm just sayin' this in case she freaks out okay? I don't want you to be caught off guard- if she says anything mean or hurtful you can't lose your cool aight'?" Marcos watched his younger brother as he processed his words. Knowing his reaction could go either way.
After a tense moment of silence, there was a shift in Manny's expression, as if something clicked. He rubbed at his chin, and Marcos could practically see the gears in his head turning.
"..Okay, it's sorta' like when we brought home that feral kitty, can't hold it against her if we get a few scratches right?" Marcos felt himself relax nodding with a smile that mirrored Manny's. "That's exactly right Bud, C'mon when Cas comes out we can go in there, we should be the first faces she sees dontcha' think?"
Ricky and Gabe arrived at their new home at the same time. The ladder immediately headed straight for the shower as whatever it was he did to your date still stained his hands crimson. Gabe couldn't wipe the wild grin from his face if he wanted to, he felt like he'd just won the lottery.
Ricky had done exactly as he said he would and left a convincing trail of evidence that you were feeling a bit free-spirited and decided to take a little vacation, of course leaving out the where and with whom.
He made his way around your new home with a feeling of accomplishment, everything was perfect now.
You were safe, and once you got over whatever adjustment period you needed, he knew everyone would be happier than ever before. Caspian greeted his younger brother with a bear hug, his smile wider than Ricky had seen in years. "You did good Ricky, real good. This place is perfect." The praise made a weight lift off the long-haired man's shoulders, Caspian was the one he looked up to the most, so to hear such positive confirmation made him let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"I'm scared she's gonna' freak out- I don't want her to hate us-" he found his anxieties tumbling past his lips without permission, Caspian had that effect on people.
"She won't. Know why? Because this was the right call, we have all the time in the world to show her just how much we care okay? Don't stress it." He clapped a hand on his shoulder and began dragging him to the kitchen.
"C'mon I got too excited and kinda' made too much food." 
Gabe took his time in the shower, letting the perfectly hot water wash away his sins of the night. Scratch that, he didn't consider his acts sins, or that of violence, rather, it was an act of love, putting that bastard in the ground for you was just him speaking his particular brand of love language.
The wicked smile curled upon his lips only widened as he watched the pink water turn clear, he was giddy at the thought of you sleeping peacefully just a few rooms away. You were here, like actually here. Nothing or no one would ever hurt you again, and most excitingly, he didn't have to hold back anymore, once you woke up he was going to spill his guts, and if his words of love weren't enough to convince you, he'd just have to show you how you effected him all these years.
Waking up in a slightly hungover haze in an entirely different place than you passed out in should have sent you into a panic, but the familiar feeling of being sandwiched between the twins killed any fear that may have come up, even half asleep and a little hungover, you knew you were always safe when a Delmont was around.
Before you could try to wrap your head around your new surroundings both Manny and Marcos were pressing a big fat kiss into each of your cheeks. "Morning sunshine." Manny sang sweetly, Marcos gave you a hug from the side mumbling his greeting into the skin of your neck. When they pulled away you were far too flustered to ask all the questions burning in your mind, instead, you returned the greetings and mutely followed behind them as Manny took your hand and began to lead you away from the wonderful room you'd woken up in.
Manny led you to the dining room of the seemingly massive house you resided in while Marcos went to shower (not before inviting you to join him of course), the youngest Delmont was as chatty as ever, rambling about everything and nothing but his words weren't registering, you definitely didn't remember coming to wherever the hell this was, and him acting so normal made you feel even weirder, as you shuffled forward the familiar sounds of the rest of the boys got louder and louder.
"Gabriel Miguel Delmont if you touch that bacon one more time I'm putting you outside like a dog." Caspian rarely yelled, even now when he was scolding the blue-haired giant he sounded more disappointed than angry, but it was his voice you noticed first.
"C'mon Cas I'm hungryyy-" you could hear the pout in Gabe's words, "I wanna' eat, there's no reason to wait it's not like we're running out of food anytime soon."
"Yeah well, people in hell want ice water so tough." 
"Gabe shut up- Cas stop readjusting the silverware she's not gonna' notice."
"But she might!!" As you both rounded the corner the conversation fell deathly silent. Each man was overcome with their affection for you, it didn't help that you looked so damn cute rubbing the sleep from your eye.
"Mornin'?" You said after a good thirty seconds of them just staring. This seemed to restart them all as Caspian jumped to pull out a chair, his warm smile was infectious, and you found yourself returning it as you sat. "Holy hell Cas you made enough to feed an army."
The spread before you was truly something out of a movie, from savory grits to big fluffy waffles, he seemed to have made every one of your favorite breakfast dishes, and each looked picture-perfect, he was all but beaming as he stood beside you. 
"Hope you're hungry." He laughed a bit, nervously flattening the baby pink apron covering his wide chest, he picked up the plate before you, staring down through his thick lashes with such warmth it made your heart race. "May I?" He gestured to the buffet and you nodded, mouth slightly agape as your brain tried to process the scene. 
Ricky sat across from you, his long hair in a messy bun, a few strands fell out, framing his face, which speaking of was fixed in the most peaceful expression, you couldn't recall the last time he seemed so relaxed. For once he didn't look like he was moments away from falling asleep, instead, he seemed refreshed, like he'd caught up on all the rest he hadn't gotten over the years.
He stared at you with the softest look, licking his bottom lip before speaking, "Good morning love, did you sleep well?" He sipped at his mug, the cinnamon coffee scent wafted through the room, that cat-like stare of his never once leaving your form.
"Slept like the dead actually-" You figured now was good a time as any to bring up the elephant in the room. "Probably the best sleep I've gotten in ages- speaking of whose bed did I just wake up in?" 
"Sorry for the holdup! Water's still warm if you wanna shower sweets." Marcos cut you off as he entered taking his seat by Manny who sat directly to your right, as he eagerly drank you in, the youngest seemed to be vibrating in his seat. 
"You should eat, lord knows the last time you did." Gabe teased from his spot beside Ricky, he was the most unabashed in his staring, it felt as if he was just barely holding himself back from leaping across the table, to do what you had no idea, but the grip he had on his fork was cause for concern.
After Caspian deemed your plate full enough he set it before you, his large frame cast a shadow across the table as he leaned over, it almost sounded as if he smelled your hair as he pulled away to take the seat by your left.
"Okay everyone eat up, after you do I'll answer all your questions okay? No lies. Complete transparency." Ricky spoke as if reading your mind, he gave you that smile of his that always made you feel like everything was under control and you relinquished yourself to the five-star meal before you.
If you could ignore the new location, the scene you found yourself in felt rather familiar. Each man bickered with each other as you all ate, you could almost pretend you were back at their house. Gabe finished first as usual, going in for seconds when he asked you to pass him the eggs, his much larger hand gently brushed over your own, and based on the grin he was sporting after, the move was intentional.
Once everyone was finished you thanked Caspian for the meal and turned your attention to Ricky, who looked a bit nervous now. "Soo. This isn't my house?" Despite your casual and light-hearted tone, the atmosphere seemed to shift at that second.
"Yes, it is, just not your old one. And to answer your question from before, that was your bed you woke up in."
"Right. Okay sure- where exactly are we? It's snowing outside." Ricky took a moment to finish off his coffee before responding.
"We're home. Our new home and it's winter Darling, snow is expected for this area." The long-haired man seemed to choose his words carefully, putting extra emphasis on the word our.
"Okay. Um and how exactly did I get to this area? The last thing I remember was chilling at my place with things 1&2 over there." The twins stared at you bashfully, both suddenly looking everywhere but you.
You flicked your gaze over each of them, all looking rather anxious, Ricky opened his mouth to answer but Marcos beat him to the punch. "I- we brought you here last night." He gestured to his twin who was beaming at you. "We couldn't just leave you alone in the state you were in." He added, not technically a lie he reasoned mentally.
You nodded to yourself, wondering how to ask what you really wanted to know.
"You're wondering why right?" Caspian spoke up, his voice was gentle as if talking down a wounded, cornered animal. 
You nodded, brows furrowed in confusion, not trusting your voice.
"Well-" he seemed to look to his brothers for confirmation before continuing, a red hue growing on his cheeks as he racked his mind for the right words, he had so much he wanted to say to you! Everything got all jumbled in his brain causing the eldest Delmont to visibly fluster.
"God I've been thinking about this moment for years but now that you're actually here I'm blanking." He let out an embarrassed laugh, rubbing his hand over his face as he stumbled over his words.
"Okay I'll say it since these bozos forgot how to talk or somethin'," Gabe rolled up his sleeves and leaned over on the table all business-like. 
"You are ours now-" he gestured to the rest of the men in the room, "Sorry, I say 'now' like you haven't always been, but officially, you're ours." He gave a self-satisfied grin, leaning back into his chair. "Yours? what?" He cooed at your frustration, reaching across the table to take your hand in his much larger one.
"Ours to protect," he kissed your pointer finger, "To love," another kiss, now on your palm. "To fuck." His searing stare was only broken when he took the tip of your finger between his lips, gently sucking as he pulled away. 
You felt like liquid putty as if he was the only thing grounding you at the moment.
Marcos rolled his eyes at his brute of a brother, jealousy came off him in waves as he sat on the table, taking your other hand he began laying on a few of his own possessive kisses, between each one he spoke "What that meathead is trying to say is we want to take care of you," another kiss, "-all of you." Another. "In every way." He added as if it cleared up any of your steadily building confusion.
Between the tingling in your lower abdomen to the confusion-headache beginning to pulse, you felt breathless.
"Sorry- just let me get this right. You took me out to some fancy cabin in the woods to take care of me?" Your face scrunched in confusion, and gently, you took back both your hands in an attempt to calm down, fanning your face you shakily laughed,
"Why? I'm okay guys really-"
"No, you're not!" Manny interrupted with a teary-eyed huff. "You feel lonely. I know you do, you told me so! You said you were gonna go out with that loser cuz you felt unwanted! That doesn't sound okay to me." The jealousy practically seeped from his words, his bright orange eyes held this darkness you'd only seen in him once or twice, and while he'd always been rather protective of you, this level of hate for someone else at your expense was new.
He had worked himself up and out of instinct, your hand found his own, immediately it calmed his tantrum down, resulting in him just sniffling instead of screaming which he very much wanted to do.
Brushing your thumb against the back of his hand in what you hoped were comforting circles, you hushed his tears, wiping them away with a practiced tenderness.
"It's okay Manny- don't get upset, not for me. I'm just trying to understand all this, can you help me understand?" He nuzzled into your palm like a pup, sighing deeply, he leaned over to rest his forehead against your own.
"I love you- we all do."
"God- I love you guys too, you're my family-"
"No! No! No! Not like that!- we love you." Manny had leaped from his seat, falling to his knees like a worshiper at their God's alter. "I love you like... I love you like the moon loves the sun. I crave you," he kissed his way from your feet to your calves, his hands rubbing patterns into the flesh, "I need you more than I need air in my lungs!" he whined looking up from between your knees.
"I adore you darling- we all do, can't you see?" Bending down, you wipe at his tears once more, and he melts into your touch, muttering this next bit into your skin, "My heart beats for you."
Heat as you'd never felt before rushed through your veins at his bold confession. Your heart raced, blood pounding in your ears as you looped his words in your brain.
A thousand emotions whirled inside you as you stared at them all, there was a small part of you that thought this was all some dream your lonely mind concocted after a night of getting hammered. But then you felt Manny's tears begin to soak into the fabric of your sweats, and the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks.
Your mouth gaped as you struggled to find the right words. "You're in love with me? Like all of you?" Manny had resigned himself to leaning in your lap, head buried in your thighs as you combed through his curls with one hand.
"I don't know what to say." You spoke honestly, staring at each of them, you expected sadness from your lack of response but only found warmth in their gazes.
"And you don't need to, I'm glad you're even hearing us out," Caspian spoke, taking a hesitant seat beside you as if he was afraid to scare you off. "Of course, I'm hearing you out you guys are everything to me, sure you went about telling me in the absolute wildest way possible but I don't know what I'd do without you- all of you." 
"And you never have to. I meant what I said, you're ours now, we got all the time in the world for you to catch up." Gabe said, his eyes flickered over his youngest brother, still in your lap, and instead of animosity, he stared with a knowing grin. "Okay little man, you worked yourself up, c'mon let's take a walk." 
A muffled shout of 'No!' could be heard from Manny, his grip on your waist had become like iron, but Gabe persisted. He scooped the skinner male up by his arms, much like a cat grabbing their kitten by the scruff of its neck, and dragged the pouting male outside with a well-timed wink. "See you in a bit Ma." And with that, they left. 
You offered to help Cas clear the dishes, if only for a sense of normalcy but he quickly ushered you away, sending you off to rest with a quick peck to your cheek.
In an attempt not to overwhelm you, each Delmont was off to their own devices, Gabe and Manny still hadn't returned from their walk, Marcos was hotboxing the basement and Caspian was humming his way around the kitchen, which left you to wander the large estate you'd found yourself in. 
Retracing your steps led you back into the room you'd woken up in, the large space was open and seemed almost tailored to your tastes. You took the time to search the drawers and see your clothes, the bathroom connected to the room was fully stocked with your favorite brands, and much to your growing confusion, even had stuff from your wishlist.
You looked for your phone in all the typical places it usually was, purse, nightstand, etc. But came up empty-handed. You had a sneaking feeling this was intentional as everything else you could have needed for this impromptu vacation was accounted for. 
Feeling the burn of more questions you sought out the man who swore to answer them. 
He wasn't too hard to find, and the sound of soft music coming from a record player led you straight to him, the room he was in looked like an upgraded version of his office, he was writing in a leather-bound journal so intensely he didn't notice you walk up. He always looked so pretty when he was working, chin jutted out just the slightest as his eyes flickered back and forth, you always told him how he looked like he belonged in a modern art museum.
"Hey, Ricky?" His head snapped towards you with breakneck speed. "What's up?" He seemed eager as he snapped the book shut and shoved it in a drawer, his small smile was enough to relax you, quickly turning to give you his undivided attention, he waved you in.
"You know where my phone is? I couldn't find it with all my stuff." He smiled at you, taking his glasses off with finesse as if he was prepared for this question. "The boys must have forgotten it." He said matter of factly.
"Well can I use yours?"
"It's dead."
You scoffed feeling your irritation spike at his dismissive attitude, you turned to leave before he spoke out again. "What are you so eager to do on the phone exactly?"
"Oh my god- nothing, I get you guys are trying to- well do whatever this is, but you can't just keep me from my life Rick- I don't need to be coddled." He leaned back into his seat, brows furrowed at your tense form.
"And what exactly are we keeping you from? An empty apartment? A job you despise that sucks the joy outta ya?" He sighed through his nose, tucking a runaway strand behind his ear, "You don't need to worry about any of that shit anymore okay? Have you looked around the house yet?" He asked changing the subject smoothly, you shook your head no, anger fading as quickly as it had come, and watched as he rose, pausing to crack his back. 
"Well c'mon, there's lots to see and you oughta be familiar with your own home." 
The two of you walked side by side as he took you along the tour, so far not including the rooms you'd already been in, you'd seen a reading room, but what made you pause was the living room itself. It had a flat screen that took up a whole wall, a working currently lit fireplace, a few hanging plants and well-placed candles, and dead center was what you considered the crowing jewel, a mauve and orange themed conversation pit, one you'd always dreamed of having. You couldn't fight your excitement as you rushed past him to flop on the soft cushion.
"I think I've died and gone to heaven." You mumbled into the fabric, Ricky stared on in amusement, more than pleased you seemed to be enjoying the home he'd painstakingly brought together for you. Every inch of the house was managed with you in mind, he'd kept amazing notes on your likes and preferences throughout the years, but seeing your genuine excitement had to be his favorite part.
"I promise we can come back here but there are literally three floors to this mother fucker." He smiled down at you, holding a slender hand out, he felt his heart swell as you took it, but instead of rising to his level, you yanked him down to your own, pulling him over, he bounced on the couch with shock written on his features.
"No way my guy- tour is officially paused until we test this here T.V. out okay?" His face flushed as you curled up beside him, "Yes ma'am." He laughed a bit to himself, loving how easily you were entertained. He pulled the remote out from a cleverly disguised compartment on the couch and watched your eyes light up even brighter. 
"Holy shit secret couch pouch."
"Focus woman, I paid good money for this T.V. and you're more interested in the furniture." He turned on a random movie and let himself relax at the moment. Drinking in the sight of you so at ease, his heart about exploded from his chest when you snuggled into his side, his arm wrapped around you snuggly, hand rubbing patterns into your flesh.
You didn't feel like racking your brain with a million questions about why you were there or where their sudden confessions came from, instead, you chose to focus on what you did know, Ricky was comfortable, and despite everything, you still trusted the Delmont men, as they were all you knew.
Maybe subconsciously you knew this was wrong, that keeping you here was wrong, but it didn't feel wrong. It felt right. Like you were supposed to be here at this moment.
You ended up passing out in the tall man's arms, your small snores and completely relaxed face had Ricky's skin flushed cherry red, he couldn't wipe the grin from his lips if he tried, Gabe and a now calmed down Manny returned shortly after you fell asleep, the older of the two insisted on carrying you back to your room, only he stopped by his room to tuck you snuggly into bed, wrapped in his soft Egyptian cotton black sheets, he felt himself twitch in his pants at the sight of you so safe and sound.
He stood over you for a while, happy to stand there and drink you in all night, only to be interrupted by a text from his older brother.
"Okay so, how do we think it's going?" Caspian asked after summoning them all to the still slightly smokey basement, he held a tablet in one hand, the cameras placed around the house were mostly for his peace of mind, so he could be sure you were okay no matter where he was.
"She seemed chill at breakfast, I say a win is a win." Gabe shrugged, eager to leave this little meeting and cuddle up to you. 
"Yeah I'm with Gabe on this one, she seems okay, do we have to keep up with the whole 'give her space' thing?" Marcos asked from his spot on the couch, he was lying on his back tossing a foam football up and down.
"I wanna sleep with her- s'not fair Ricky got to." Manny piped up from his seat on a beanbag, the pout could be heard in his voice.
"I was just in the right place at the right time, not like I planned it." Ricky defended himself, but the satisfied smile on his face made it hard to believe him. "And it could just be the shock, give it a few days before you lay into her, and I'm looking at you three." Gabe and the twins made a noise of disbelief.
The next morning you awoke not on the couch but pressed against the big chest of one Gabriel Delmont. The bluenette had one hand behind his head and the other securely wrapped around your middle, holding you against him, he rarely slept in a shirt so you were used to his statuesque features, but it felt different now, after his bold claim at the breakfast table, it all seemed rather intimate to be face first in his naked chest.
As if he sensed you were awake, he soon started shuffling close toward you.
"G'mornin Mi Amor." His morning voice was husky with sleep, it sent a warm tingle down your spine as he shifted, pulling you even closer. "Morning Gabe." He stared at you for a second before tilting your chin up with his free hand, his pillowy lips were on yours in an instant, warm and cozy, he hummed as he pulled away, his smile turning wicked at the obvious heat on your face.
"I uh- I fell asleep on the couch?" Was all your brain managed to say after the heated kiss, still processing the tingly way it made you feel.
He huffed a laugh, leaning over to place another kiss, this time on your neck, "Yeah I may have stolen you from Ricky but you can't really blame me." He mumbled into the flesh of your neck, the sensation made a ghost of a whimper leave your lips.
He froze against you before his lips turned to teeth, "Keep making those pretty noises for me n' We're never leaving the bed." He sounded breathless as he nipped and sucked his mark into your skin. Breathy little moans left your lips, "Shit- hold on a second-ngh."
Your hands buried themselves in him, one in his hair the other trying to find purchase on his toned back. His chest began to rise and fall, his heart pounding as he fell into the delicious sensations, your hand tugging at his locks, the other digging into his skin so hard he felt the crescent-shaped indents you were leaving, the mental image of your own mark on him had him rolling his hips into yours, his boxers suddenly all too tight, he rolled himself to lay comfortably between your thighs, suddenly, he lifted himself just enough to stare in your eyes. "You want my tongue or my fingers first Ma'?" The sinful smile he sported was enough to short-circuit your brain.
But before you could stumble out an answer, a few sharp knocks came from the door, so hard they shook the wood. 
"Put your dick away Gabriel, food's ready." Marco's voice carried through the barrier instantly popping whatever heated bubble you two had been in. Gabe growled something obscene under his breath, his angry stare melted back into a teasing one as he met your gaze once more.
"To be continued Baby girl."
Your second breakfast at your new home was a lot like the first one, only this time before you could sit Manny pulled you into his lap, his surprisingly strong arms locked around your waist, fingers dancing along any skin he could find. "Missed you." He mumbled into the back of your neck, goosebumps exploded across your skin at the timber in his voice. "But you just seen me?" You couldn't fight the giggles that escaped you as he started trailing little kisses along the column of your throat, nosing just below your ear as he knew you were ticklish. "So what? I didn't wake up and see you so it's been too long." He reasoned, basking in the perfect way you fit in his arms, how soft and warm you were.
"Oi, let her eat." Ricky pointed his fork at the youngest, his tone full of accusation. "Hmm that's fair, my baby does need to eat, hey Cas, little help?" Manny asked hiding his wolfish grin by kissing your nape. He knew what he was doing.
"Well of course." The eldest Delmont was quick to bring a fork full of food to your lips, the heat in your stomach only worsened as he stared down at you so lovingly. Being hand-fed was embarrassing, but with each passing moment the electric feeling of Manny's wandering hands paired with the downright lustful way Caspian was staring at you, and each of the little proud noises he made whenever you took a bite, quickly wiped away any embarrassment. 
You managed to usher Caspian to his seat so he himself could eat, Manny seemed much too preoccupied caressing your body to feed himself, so you cleared your throat, it was almost comical how each of their heads snapped towards you, like a pack of puppies waiting for their next command.
"So- uhm, what's on the agenda today?" It was hard to keep your voice steady, Manny's fingers danced up and down your sides in an addicting manner.
"I've gotta head into town with Manny and Gabe, pop needs us for a few hours but when we come back I'll make it up to you okay love?" Ricky spoke first seemingly genuinely upset at the prospect of leaving you, the other two mentioned visibly deflated at the news, and the younger twin tightened his hold on you.
Once those three departed Marcos loudly announced he was taking a bath and how lonely it be, oh if only someone would help him, only leaving when Caspian launched his slipper at the devious Twin.
Which left you with the gentle giant of the house.
You helped Cas clear the table no matter how adorable the pout on his face was. It felt so normal, drying the dishes as he washed, a soft song playing in the background.
"How are you doing? I mean really doing." He spoke so gently, so earnestly, the truth couldn't help but come out of you. "I feel like I'm dreaming. Like I'm gonna wake up any second and all of this will have been some strange concoction by my lonely brain." You laughed as you spoke, but it was true.
It was as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Why do you say that Honey?" He seemed so concerned, enough to set the plate he had in the sink, dry his hands, and turn and face you fully. "Well- I mean it is all very dreamy, plus you guys all- I mean what you said at breakfast yesterday, that you all um-" For some reason, the words refused to leave like you were embarrassed to say them Incase you were wrong.
"Love you?" He asked, gently taking each of your hands, "Yeah- I mean I'm flattered, fuck any one of you being into me is like a dream but all of you? I'm just kinda, scared I guess? That this is another one of those jokes where I'm the only one not in on it." His frown was so out of place on his face, how disturbed he seemed. Before you could backpedal he was lowering himself down just enough to scoop you up and sit you on the kitchen counter.
"I'm so sorry baby, my poor girl." He sighed, thumb brushing against your cheek. "Your brain is being mean to you, that's just not gonna work for me." He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and undid his apron with a finesse that had your thighs clenching together. "We shoulda' told you how we felt years ago. Then it be unquestionable. I guess I just gotta convince you some other way right?" He had this look in his eye, the bass in his voice made your next words come out shakey.
"What did you have in mind?"
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rickmandowneyjr · 3 years ago
Text
Cuts to Cope
Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)
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Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.
You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.
People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.
Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.
"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.
Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."
You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."
You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.
You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.
After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.
Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.
"Ms. [L/N]."
"Yes, sir?"
He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.
You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.
"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.
With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.
As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.
You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.
Snape's POV
I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.
She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.
End of Snape's POV
As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.
As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.
You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.
"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"
You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."
"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.
You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.
"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."
The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.
"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."
You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.
"Look at me," he said.
You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.
"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.
"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."
"Who?"
"Cedric."
"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."
"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.
You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.
Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.
It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.
Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.
"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.
"Does it go away?"
"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.
"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."
You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.
"Do any of your friends know?"
"Merlin, no!"
"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"
"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"
"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.
"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."
You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.
"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."
"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"
"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."
You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.
"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."
"But-"
"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."
You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?
A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.
The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.
By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?
-
P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3
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throwawayasoiafaccount · 6 months ago
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people who stan ashara and arthur dayne are odd as well. the difference is that these people are rare and usually don’t post bs about other characters while acting like their headcanons are the only truth. also, why did you have to use a logical fallacy? i hate red herrings so pick a different gotcha to use.
and yes… that’s how elia is described. and that is literally almost all we know about her. so how does this contradict my point? it’s still weird and very illogical to stan this character as fervently as her stans do when this is all we know about her.
and your last point is simply untrue. lyanna gets much more characterization than elia, has more narrative importance, and has a mini me who’s directly paralleled to her and a son running around who’s magical destinies and actions will shape the world of asoiaf.
tbh i’d love to know more about elia and i think in the next book she’ll have more narrative importance. honestly, i’m actually one of those crazy people who believes that jaqen h’ghar is the real aegon, so i think elia becoming a more fleshed out character is a very very likely possibility. i also completely believe that a lot of unknown info about the rebellion will be revealed in winds of winter so it won’t just be elia who’s more fleshed out. i am very excited for this and i am eager to see where the dornish plot goes.
now that i’ve proven that i’m not an elia anti nor a martell/dorne anti, i’d like to make it clear that i am an elia stans anti. i find it weird af for people to make whole ass stan accounts dedicated to elia, but i normally wouldn’t make a post about this odd kind of behavior and just block people like this (i love me my block button). however, i’ve lately become very annoyed by these so called elia stans, and my problem with these stans stems from the fact that half the posts they make are posts bashing rhaegar and lyanna. and tbh i don’t even care much about rhaegar and lyanna, but i adore jon, dany, and arya; and i’ve noticed that rhaegar hate goes hand in hand with dany hate and lyanna mischaracterization leads to jon and arya becoming completely mischaracterized. it’s annoying to see so i decided to post about my grievances.
to be clear, i’m neutral on elia as i don’t know enough about her to form an opinion on her. if i haven’t stated it enough i’ll state it again: her stans are the ones who piss me off. like look at that account @eliaalgae that you reblogged. i tagged my post correctly and yet this person came after me spewing shit like a bitch. i don’t even know why i can’t respond to that person who you reblogged, but it’s genuinely annoying when i tag my shit correctly and i have someone being nasty to me despite this. i’m fairly new to tumblr and this is an alt account so i don’t even know why my comments would be restricted here but it’s still annoying as fuck to see.
@eliaalgae and my question wasn’t fucking stupid you fucking donkey. sorry i don’t adore your self insert :) and ahhh yes i wanted attention from elia stans so i tagged my post as anti elia stans! you’ve caught me! god damn i’m so embarrassed!
question: how can you adore elia when she’s barely a character?
we do not know enough about this character for her to even have stans.
stanning elia is illogical at best, completely delusional and very concerning at worst.
because what even is it that is being stanned and adored? your self insert?
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rainy-day-coffee · 4 years ago
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Helloooo. First of all, I definitely LOVE your writing! Theyre so fun to read! And second, can I request hcs...or scenario (you can choose!) with octa trio + riddle and idia accidentally hearing their fem crush gushed enthusiastically about them to her friends? Thanks a lot!
AH- Thank you so much!! (^///^) I have a lot fun writing these for everyone, I’m super happy you like my posts!
Oh anon, this idea!!! I had so much fun with this!! I hope you like it! I genuinely want to make these all into full-fledged scenarios or maybe just mini-scenarios! If you would like one of those, you are more than welcome to ask for it! I’m going to have brainrot about this idea for a long time now, it’s just so cute!
Finding their fem!crush gushing about them to her friends!
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Azul had just been minding his business, making his way through the campus of NCR, students avoiding him as usual. 
Walking around the corner, he hears you squealing to your group of friends. You sound so excited! It piqued his curiosity so he hid. Just what opportunity could you be presenting him with?
Very jealous at first, he doesn’t know who you’re talking so highly about. He never had much of a fair chance at a relationship with you, or so he believes. He supposes this conversation can be used as black-mail in the future.
And then he hears his name being followed along by another string of compliments.
Almost lets out the loudest gasp, but stops himself in time. He blushes a very deep shade of red. This isn’t fair. You shouldn’t be allowed to make his heart beat this quickly. And all those words of adoration, goodness! What is he supposed to do?
He’s thankful that he sent the twins off to go do something. Otherwise, they would tease him and push him towards you with no remorse. 
He proceeds to go straight to his room, launch himself into bed, hug a pillow, and roll around and squeal in joy.
He can use this to his advantage! Your little indirect confession will be used as coverage for when he ropes you into a contract! A contract of love that is!
Jade and Floyd can’t help but notice their boss is in a much happier mood the following days!
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He already knew you harbored feelings for him. Remember, he’s amazing at reading people. Now, he was simply waiting for you to make your move.
He really hadn’t expected to find you and your friends in an empty hallway. You were practically vibrating in place while you told them about a certain crush of yours.
How bold of you to talk about such things in public! You can never know who will be listening.
His outside expression doesn’t change. He’s still smiling like usual. On the inside however, he’s quite happy. Technically, this doesn’t count as an advance on your part, but he can use this situation to his benefit.
He makes his way forward ever so quietly. Wrapped up in your excitement, you don’t even seem to notice him.
Your friends desperately try to tell you about the looming eel that is right behind you, please quiet down before you embarrass yourself further. 
It seems to be too late for that though.
You feel a pair of hands on your shoulders, finally alerting you of his presence. It’s no use trying to play off the situation, he heard just enough to know.
No please, go on, he insists. Just what else do you have to say? He wants to hear all of it.
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Floyd never made his feelings a secret! This applies to his crush on you too! He’s a lot clingier with you, and he tends to drag you around more than anyone else! It’s quite obvious that you’re his obsession. However, you had yet to confess your love for him. What a shy shrimp you are! He’s starting to get a little impatient.
He wasn’t in the best of moods when he overheard your “confession.” He didn’t feel like working at Mostro Lounge or doing that really long assignment Professor Trein had given out. He was so bored.
His mood does a complete 180 when he hears you absolutely “melting” over a “tall and attractive eel who loves to squeeze you.” 
He’s so happy to hear that! He knew you loved him too! He quickly becomes annoyed soon after though. Shouldn’t you be telling him these things to his face? It’s quite rude to not be honest with a person.
Goes up and just glomps you right there and then, it doesn’t matter who you’re with or where you are. It’s time to spend the rest of your day with him now! Go on! Tell him about how much you adore him! You have a lot of nerve making him wait!
He’s going to squeeze you all day! This is your punishment for not confessing sooner! It’s impossible to escape now, when Floyd makes up his mind nothing can stop him.
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Trey had told Riddle to take a short break from his paperwork. Not wanting to go far from the dorm, he decided to take a stroll through the maze. It was meant to be a relaxing 10-minute walk, not a stressful be quick and hide situation. He did it on impulse! He really didn’t know you were going to be here talking your heart out.
He knows it’s extremely rude to listen in on a private conversation, but he can’t seem to stop. What kind of person have you fallen in love with while he yearns for you?
He almost starts to cry when he realizes it’s him. You sound so genuine and happy when you talk about him! Even if he isn’t your boyfriend just yet, he feels so loved!
Always having been self-conscious for his lack of romantic knowledge, he’s glad you seem to like him anyways! He’s been trying to show off a bit with his magic and intellect lately, it’s paying off it seems!
Feels very guilty nonetheless, he had no right to hear any of this. When he confesses one day, he’ll do his best to apologize.
Riddle tries to calm his racing heart and stop the intense blush on his face before he leaves. He’s quite grateful Trey forced him out here.
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He was watching you through the cams he has set up around school. He wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything! He simply happened to be on the right camera at the right time.
He assumes the worst automatically. His self-loathing increases with every compliment you seem to give this mystery person. It clouds his logical thinking. Of course you would love someone else. He just spends his days wasting your time and doing nothing but hanging out in his room. He’s terrible with socializing too. You deserve a lot better.
The bigger part of him wants to shut-off his monitor, not wanting to listen anymore. The smaller part wants to know who’s the object of your affection. Who matches the description of “beautiful, long blue hair,” “pretty yellow eyes,” “adorable fanboy,” and “extremely smart.” It genuinely takes him a good minute or so to figure it out. It helps that you practically shout out his name too.
His entire being turns red, hair included. A room temperature increase follows suit. 
His heart can’t handle this! You’re the heroine to this story! You’re supposed to get with one of the cool SSR characters?! The NPC character isn’t a part of the romance list!
Nearly collapses onto the floor in complete happiness and confusion. He’s not complaining, not at all! However, he does begin to question your taste in men.
Ortho is now rushing to his brother’s room. The levels of heat are getting dangerously high and he is panicking. He knows his brother can get random bursts of excitement, but never to this extent!
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marrys-dream-world · 3 years ago
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Imposter
Read on AO3
Summary:  Adrien's mother is kind and sweet and loving. The only problem is that it isn't her at all.
Notes: This is based off on this post by @infinitysgrace and a post athat I can’t find anymore, but was about how Emilie’s eye color could be wrong in the wishmaker flashback because it wasn’t her, it was a sentimonster. I took some liberties with sentimonster lore because I’m not 100% sure about all that, but I think it turned out well. 
One of Adrien’s earliest memories is of crying. 
He was young, perhaps three or four, and his room was blurry through his tears. When he grew older, he would get used to his father’s insistence that a night light was coddling Adrien, but at the moment, all he knew was the darkness surrounding him. The room was too big and his bed was in the middle of it, the light from the huge windows playing shadows that tricked his eyes. So he started crying, hoping it would call his parent’s attention and that they would come to him.
(When he grew older, he would learn that crying was useless.)
He felt more than saw his mother coming in, leaving the door open in a crack of light. Her arms wrap around him and she hums soothingly, the sound filling up his chest. She’s warm and smells sweet, like her favorite lavender perfume. He sinks into her, tears drying and sobs reducing to whines. He has tired himself out with that and would probably fall asleep even if left alone, but his mother doesn’t leave. She tucks him in and stays as his eyes close.
The last thing he sees are her wide blue eyes. 
-
Both his parents have drastic mood changes, but Adrien would say that his mother is the most prominent example of this. His father is usually just stoic and, if Adrien pushes him enough, gets annoyed with him. At worst, he’ll get angry and rage at Adrien, calmed down only by his mother’s calm words as she diverts his attention so Adrien can get away. His mother, though, always feels like whiplash.
“Why can’t I go with you?” Adrien, aged seven, asks his mother. He’s sitting on her bed as she packs her bag for another trip with his father. He stopped keeping count of them after the fifth. 
“You’re too young, baby.” She said and even the pet name didn’t stop the sting from her dismissive tone. “Next time, okay?”
He bits back a ‘you said that last time, too’. 
“But I’m already- “
“Adrien.” His mother chides, frowning. Her (disappointed) green eyes held him down. “I said you could stay here with me if you weren't going to be disruptive. Can’t you behave, just this once?”
He swallows back a lump in his throat. “I-I’m sorry, mother.”
But she already turned her back to him and packed the rest of her bag in silence. His mother leaves out her customary goodbye kiss when she leaves for the trip. He isn’t allowed downstairs to see them go and Nathalie insists it isn't a punishment, even though it feels like it. Adrien mopes in his room, not feeling up to enjoy his free day, no tutors or photoshoots, when all he can think about is his mother.
That’s why he’s taken back when she walks in his room.
“Mother?” He gaps, unable to hide his surprise. “I thought you left. Aren’t you going to miss your trip?!”
“I changed my mind, Adrien. Your father and I decided that the trip would be more productive with just him.” She said, eyes warm. Adrien always thought it was beautiful how her eyes could look blue or green, depending on the light. 
“But why?” He asked. She had been so excited for the trip!
“To stay with my precious son, of course.” His mother said, taking him into her arms.
All his questions evaporated right then and there. 
-
After their last trip, his parents decided to take a break from traveling. To network, his father informed him, which meant more boring family dinners and stiff ties. His mom always tuts when he complains about it, so he stays silent this time. At least it’s a dinner with Chloé, his best friend, and her family, so he and her are really only required to have dinner and then they can go off and play in the hotel rooms. 
“Arnold- “ Mrs. Bourgeois starts during dinner, before being nervously corrected by her husband.
“It’s Adrien, dear.”
“Oh right, Adrien. You grew up really well, you look more like your mother everyday.” Other people say it gushing, followed by a ‘so cute’ and pinches to the cheek. Mrs. Bourgeois says it like it’s a fact she approves of; Chloé even copies the small nod her mother makes. “You have her eyes.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t think so.” He says as politely as he can, but everyone in the table still throws him confused glances.
“You don’t think you look like your mother?” His father asked, raising an eyebrow.
Adrien shook his head. “No, I just don’t think I have her eyes. Mother’s eyes are blue and green and mine are just green.”
The Bourgeois family looks at him like he grew a second head. His parents, however, become tense all of sudden.
“Emilie, Gabriel, I think your son might be colorblind.” Mrs. Bourgeois says dryly and Adrien waits for his parents to come to his defense. They don’t. 
“Maybe. You know how children are.” His mother says, lightly. “I love your hat, Audrey. Is it new?”
The topic changes to Audrey’s new fashion exploits and Adrien and Chloé are finally allowed to go play. 
(Nathalie takes him to an eye doctor Mr. Bourgeois recommended the next day. The colorblind tests come back as negative.)
-
At age eight, Adrien was already used to working on fashion shows for his father’s brand. It didn’t make them easier to go through, however. 
It’s a summer one, this time, and his clothes are light and airy and his skin felt itchy and hot in the air conditioned cat walk. Looking at the bright lights around him hurt and the camera felt like it was looking uncomfortably deep into his soul. Was it too obvious that he wanted to run away? The crowd claps everytime he comes and everyone is smiling. Except for his father. 
After the show, his father spends the rest of the ride in silence as his mother tries to defuse the heavy tension that permeated the air with small talk and gushing compliments about the clothes and Adrien’s performance. It falls flat as she hardly looks like she’s up for talking, dark shadows under her eyes and skin paler than usual. Whenever Adrien asks her if she’s sick, she denies. As soon as they arrive home, he drags Adrien from the car towards the house, grip strong on his left upper arm. 
“Do you enjoy embarrassing me in front of everyone, Adrien?” His father asked calmly, but his hand tightened on his arm. 
Adrien couldn’t speak. It felt like it was happening to someone else, his mind weirdly detached from the situation. The only thing stopping him from floating away was the pain in his arm. 
“That’s enough, Gabriel.” He heard his mother, voice muffled. It felt like he was underwater in the pool and she was speaking from far away. Her hand, though, he felt acutely as she extricated his father’s hand from his arm. “Adrien, go, please.”
He runs away without second thought, only pausing guiltily at leaving his mother with his irate father when he starts hearing his father’s screaming. Adrien hides under the blankets in his room, heart racing long after the noise stops as he tries to focus his mind into anything else. He startles when he feels a hand touching his blanket cocoon. 
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby.” He hears his mother’s voice and frantically tears his blanket away. 
Adrien relaxes as he looks into her wide blue eyes and comforting smile, trying to leap for a hug. She stops him. 
“Let me see your arm first.” She says and he reluctantly takes off his jacket, wincing. The bruise on his arm doesn’t look pretty, so it’s for the best that he doesn’t go out much after fashion shows. “I can’t believe I let you get hurt.”
Her tone is soft and she looks, weirdly enough, genuinely confused as she touches the bruise on his arm and coos in apology as he flinches. 
“Father is just stressed.” Adrien parrots back his mother’s usual spiel after his dad does something less than exemplary. “It’s just how she is, it’s okay.”
"It 's not okay.” His mother says right away. “I’m supposed to not let anything hurt you, Adrien.” 
She says that with such a passion that he can believe she actually means it. But instead of the elation he expected when he heard it, all he felt was a surge of anger. Because why now? After all those moments when she scolded him for avoiding his father or not looking him in the eye, why now?
“There isn’t anything we can do about it, is there?.” He snaps, echoing her words to him from what felt like yesterday. 
She deflated. “I’m sorry. There isn’t.”
-
His father went away from a trip again and his mother, once again, decided to stay. 
Spending time with his mother during father’s trip was great, especially since she was in such a good mood and looking much healthier than she did these days. She lets him have an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert as soon as Nathalie turns her back on them, she spends the whole day playing with him in the garder, she helps with his homework and makes him a snack between classes. They play the piano together, making up different tunes and giggling. 
“Don’t I have to practice this?” He asked, pointing to the sheets of the classical song he was supposed to learn. 
His mother wrinkled her nose.
“You already work too hard, Adrien, it’s nice to have some fun once in a while.” She said, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She usually didn’t wear it when spending time with him, only when she spent time with father, so it caught his attention. “Besides, nobody has to know.” 
They watch a movie he picked that night. His mother rarely did that and when she did, she was very picky about it. Artist stuff, he supposed. This time he got to choose, though, and he picked on based on a manga he liked, Astroboy. His mother seemed excited in the beginning, but her mood quickly subdued as the movie went on. 
“Are you not liking it?” He whispered to her and she shook her head.
“I am, baby, don’t worry. Are you?”
“Yeah. It's not really like the manga, but I like it.” He said. “I just think it’s a little unfair, you know. How he doesn’t know he isn’t really the scientist’s son, that he’s just a robot.”
His mother’s arms tighten around him. “I don’t think it’s unfair.”
“Really?” Adrien watched as the images from the screen played on his mother’s blue eyes.
“Really.” She repeated. “Him knowing would be crueler.”
-
At age ten, Adrien is awakened on a rainy night by his mother shaking him.
It was the night his father was supposed to come back from a trip and he had spent a fun day with his mother, studying and playing (“You need both to be a healthy boy, Adrien!” She grinned at him and he beamed back at her). His mother had looked a little skittish earlier, looking over her shoulder often only to just find Natahalie and fidgeting with the ring on her hand, that she usually wore every time his father was traveling. She wouldn't tell him what was wrong and insisted she hadn’t been sick. Nevertheless, he worried. 
“Mother, what’s wrong?” He asked, sleepiness fading away as he noticed how frantic she looked. 
“Adrien, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Every moment I’ve been conscious, it’s been on my mind. Can you trust me?” She asked him, stroking his head with the hand that wore her wedding ring, and he nodded. “I need you to pack a small bag and come with me, okay? We’re going on a trip, just you and me.”
“A trip?” It was all he ever wanted, but the look in his mother’s blue eyes made him hesitate. “Is everything okay?”
“No, baby.” She said, kissing the top of his head. “But it will be. Hurry up, I need you to pack while I handle some things. Meet me downstairs in five minutes, okay?”
With anyone else, even his father, he would have asked more questions. This was his beloved mother, though, so he just got up and started to pack his clothes and some of his stuff that he couldn’t do a few days without. He carefully closed his door, running down the stair and to his mother by the door. She looked damp, her outfit changed and an umbrella hanging by her feet along with some bags. 
“Adrien?” She asked, turning her green eyes to him. In her left hand, she held her wedding ring.
“Mother? Are you okay?” He asked, noting how much paler and shakier she looked than when he saw her upstairs. 
“Yes, of course.” His mother said as she put her wedding ring back on. “Whatever I said to you upstairs, forget it, okay?”
“W-what?”
“I didn’t know what I was saying.” She said, eyes staring straight at her ring. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. Go back to bed, baby. Your father is back earlier than expected and he won’t like to see you up so late. ”
He nodded, unwilling to argue, and took his bag back with him to his room. His mother suddenly acting weird and standoffish wasn’t anything new, it was fine. She would go back to being his sweet, kind mother soon enough. He was sure of it. 
(She never did.)
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fanfic-me-up · 4 years ago
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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki
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Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more? 
Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader
Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content
Word Count: 6k+
A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub​ bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi​ and @im-here-for-the-heroes​ for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk​ this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol
“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?” 
Denki swallows. 
“Check.”
It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.
But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you. 
But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.
You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.
Oh, and did he forget to mention?
Totally off-limits.
This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.
He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.
This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.
Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock. 
“Fuck yeah...”
Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm. 
He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.
“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor. 
“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor. 
You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position. 
Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.
“How did you get in here!?”
“Spare key, dumbass!” 
“That’s for emergencies only!”
“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”
Silence.
“No?”
You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.
“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”
“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.” 
You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.
The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.
“Is that my face!?” 
Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.
“Uhhh…”
He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.
He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead. 
“Ho-hold on, let me just…” 
With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.
“Oops?”
Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer. 
“Denki Kaminari.”
Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business. 
“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”
“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!” 
“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”
Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.
The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.
“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.
“You may wanna sit down for this.” 
“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.” 
He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.
How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?
The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years? 
Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time? 
Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.
“I love getting off to you.”
A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane. 
Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.
He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.
“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”
He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight. 
But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.
“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”
The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.
“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.” 
Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.
“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.” 
Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.
“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”
It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.
“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”
Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.
“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”
Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.
That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.
“How bad do you want me?”
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A. 
You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.
It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone. 
Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.
But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.
“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.” 
Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.
“You love getting off to me?”
It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.
“You’re the only one I get off to.”
You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.
“Show me.”
Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth. 
Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular? 
Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed. 
You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid. 
When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 
You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.
Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras? 
“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.
“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.
“Fuck, Y/N, you look…” 
Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.
“Fuck, I’m close.”
You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.
“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.” 
Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.
“Touch me.” 
That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.
“Chill, Denki.”
He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” 
He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.
“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.” 
You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch. 
“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.
He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.
“Everything and more.”
Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.
“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”
You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.
“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.
You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army? 
“What the fuck, Denki?” 
People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?
“What?” 
He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.
“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?” 
Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.  
“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you. 
You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.
“Denki?” 
His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own. 
“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.” 
His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.
“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared. 
“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”
You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.
“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.
His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be. 
This thought doesn’t sit well with you.
Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.
“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.
He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in. 
“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.
You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again. 
“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.
He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.
“You close?” 
“Close, so close, Denki, please…”
Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.
“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.” 
Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.
“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-” 
You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.
“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”
You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.
“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”
Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line. 
He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish. 
You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second. 
“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”
“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.
“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”
It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.
You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.
Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.
The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.
“About time, bro, congrats!” 
“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.
“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.
“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.
“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”
You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.
“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”
Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.” 
“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?” 
You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.
“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.” 
“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”
Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.
You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?
“So…” you start.
“So…” Denki finishes. 
You both stare straight ahead at nothing. 
“Did you mean it?” 
You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.
“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?” 
You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him? 
You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did. 
He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.
“I meant it,” you say.
Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes. 
“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever. 
Until you feel something poking your thigh.
“Denki!” 
You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.
“Sorry!”
“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.
“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”
You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.
But you have all the time in the world to make more.
“... round two?” 
Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”
You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.
That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.
“To add to your collection 😉”
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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago
Text
subtle | 2 | Shouto Todoroki/Reader
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pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader
status: complete
length: 2,265 words
summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You’re determined to track down the sender, certain it’s a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.
tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day
warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)
notes: Hi all! Happy Valentine's Day! I'm posting a follow up chapter because so many people asked for it in my inbox. It's completely unedited because I just decided to write it today, and I wanted to get it up before the holiday was over! I promise I will come back and edit at some point in the next few weeks.
No one had come for the box.
You’d made a point to be out of your office as much as possible throughout the day, leaving plenty of opportunity for whoever the sender was to sneak back in and correct their mistake. But every time you reentered the room, there the box was, crowning a pile of your paperwork like a coronet of ineptitude.
You’d checked in with Shouto several times as well, anxious to learn whether or not he’d overheard anything as he changed out of his uniform from patrol, but he proved just as unhelpful as he’d been earlier this morning. He simply leaned towards you, looking almost conspiratorial--spiking both your heart rate and your hopes--only for him to murmur in his low voice, “No one is coming for it.”
Which was so fucking unhelpful.
So you’d set about the office yourself, lingering hopefully on the fringes of people’s conversations, peering about for clues on the agency staffer’s desks, but there was nothing to give the sender away, no whispered snippet of conversation or receipt laying amongst some expense sheets. You might have resorted to sifting through people’s garbage cans, if only Shouto hadn’t taken to suddenly appearing wherever you were investigating, watching you with a wry little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
You knew he hadn’t the slightest modicum of romantic interest in you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to witness you digging through people’s garbage either. That would have to wait until you could get him out of the building.
Which was also proving to be an impossible endeavor. He usually had a habit of lingering after his shift, coming into your office to make queries about one thing or another that almost always devolved into conversations deeply unrelated to work. But today he was especially resistant to leaving, seeming content to lounge around in the chairs you’d set out for clients, draping one distractingly muscled arm across the backs and watching you intently with those heterochromatic eyes.
“Shouto, get out of my office,” you hissed, coming back in at the end of the day to find him still in one of the chairs, his phone clutched in those long fingers.
He glanced up at you, eyes fastening to your features in that attentive way he had. “I work here.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” you asked, trying to suppress a small spike of irritation with him. “Because it looks like you’re scaring off the box sender to me. How are they supposed to sneak in here and take it back if their boss is looming in here like their worst nightmare?”
Shouto looked unconcerned. “I’m not.”
“Not what?” you asked. Maybe he wasn’t their worst nightmare, but being caught by your boss in the middle of correcting a romantic mishap was probably at least a nightmare.
“Not scaring anyone off,” he said, putting his phone away into his pocket. “I know who the box belongs to.”
You stopped short, your attention snapping fully towards him. A thrill of excitement went down your spine, even as regret poured through you. A little part of you had maybe hoped you would end up getting to eat the chocolates, even if they weren’t yours. But this was good news.
“You do? Why didn’t you tell me?” you demanded.
Yor feet guided you to the chair where he sat, and you stood, looking down at him expectantly. He watched you through his long lashes, eyes glinting strangely.
“It’s mine,” he said finally, after a moment that stretched long and slow, like warm taffy.
Your breath caught in your chest, a swell of confusion rising within you. The box was his?
Was he being truthful or was this another attempt to make you take it? Why would he have tried to make you think it was from a secret admirer, then? Why have let you run around all day, attempting to find the sender, if the chocolates had been his all along? Unless...
Unless he was embarrassed. You didn’t know why he might have left them in your office, but you suspected maybe force of habit had drawn him here. Maybe he was operating on autopilot after his distracting shift this morning, since he usually spent so much time in your office, and then you’d come in to find them before he’d had a chance to realize it. And the rest had been history.
But then that begged the question of who he’d really meant them for--your heart sank as the thought occurred to you.
Obviously, you had known since you’d first met him that he wasn’t interested in you. You’d spent years with your thoughts all muddled around him, quelling every blush, never straying into his personal space or staring at him longer than was appropriate. You’d been so, so careful around him, but you’d never had any indication that Shouto was as careful around you. On the contrary, he was always calm and intent--he never looked away from you in a fit of bashfulness the way you had him, and he seemed to have no qualms about getting into your personal space, leaning over you as you looked through reports together, putting a hand on your back to guide you through publicity events.
So yeah, you had known he was basically immune to you. You had known it for a long time. But it still smarted to think of him giving that box to someone else.
God, how embarrassing for you. How mortifying, really, that Shouto had been thinking of someone else all those days that you had been nursing your crush on him.
But you were a professional, you could deal with this.
All you had to do was play it cool, give him back the box and laugh it off like it hardly affected you. And then you could head back to your apartment and binge ice cream and be all wistful and embarrassing for one evening. You could allow yourself that before you had to come back and be doubly professional, smile and congratulate whichever analyst or support staffer or fellow hero had caught his interest.
You could be happy for him. You’d miss the chocolates though.
Drawing yourself together, you looked down at him, pulling out a small but genuine smile. Shouto was your friend, and he was going to nail it with whoever the box was meant for--you could give him your support. But then Shouto was unfolding himself out of the chair, standing up so he could look down into your face, taking a step closer to you.
You tried to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his sudden proximity, the hint of his clean cologne and the lick of warmth coming off of his left side.
“They’re, uh, they’re yours?” you managed, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You are in such big trouble for coming in here and peddling conspiracy theories instead of owning up to it. You at least owe me a coffee for being such a brat.”
Shouto watched you quietly, saying nothing.
“But we can hash that out later,” you said, waving what you hoped was a casual hand at him. “You need to move quickly. You should try to catch whoever you meant these for before they leave--daytime shift is over in a couple minutes.”
Shouto’s brows knitted, a small frown pulling at his mouth. “You still think they’re not for you,” he said.
It took a minute for you to register the words he’d spoken. The comment struck you dumb when you did, a thrill of disbelief going through you. Was he trying to be tactful now? Now, of all times?
“Shouto, seriously, you can make it up to me later. This is not the time to fuck around, the day’s almost over,” you said.
His eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to you, close enough that you could feel him exhale. You took a step back in surprise, your hip bumping your desk.
“You promised me,” he said in his deep voice, “that if no one came looking for them by the end of the day, you would take them.”
You stared up at him, your mind churning wildly with all kinds of insane thoughts, wild insinuations that brought heat to your face. He absolutely could not mean what you thought he meant.
There was literally no way.
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” you admitted. “But if you’re telling me I can take them just because you promised them, I don’t want them. I think you should give them to who you meant them for.”
That wry little smile played about his mouth again, and Shouto took another step closer. The back of your thighs dug into your desk and you wobbled, putting a hand down to keep your balance.
“To think I trust you with my career,” Shouto intoned, ducking his head to look into your face. You felt the heat of his left arm at your side as he placed it gently on your desk, caging you in. “Let me be plain, then. I did give them to who they were meant for.”
Your cheeks went hot, both with his proximity and the implied insult. But the rejoinder died on your tongue as the implication of his last few words sank in.
He had meant them for you? Shouto Todoroki, number four hero, your coworker of several years and your most patient, attentive, and mind-numbingly handsome friend, had gone to Grégoire Chardin, for Valentine’s Day chocolate, thinking--of all people--of you?
For a moment, it felt like the earth was sliding out from under your feet, but then you realized it was just you, tipping backwards on your desk. Your elbow banged into the side of the chocolate box, and you accidentally sent a small pile of papers fluttering over the side of your desk. You cringed, embarrassed, but then Shouto was over you, both arms braced on either side of your head.
“You don’t need to accept them if you don’t want,” he said quietly, watching your face. The intensity of his focus made your head swim, and you tried to focus on what he was saying, rather than the shape of his mouth as he spoke, the heat from his skin. “But I wanted you to know. I like you.”
You gaped at him, the words feeling like they were embedding themselves in your brain.
“You...like me?” you echoed in disbelief.
Shouto grinned, the expression so disarmingly charming that even your nose went hot. “Yes. Very much.”
A swell of emotions welled up inside you, like the unstoppable tide of a coastal flood, and you were gripped with the sudden desire to lean up and kiss him, to press your mouth to his and see if he meant it, if any of what he’d just said to you could possibly be real. Suddenly, that was the only thought in your entire brain.
“I’m gonna kiss you,” you heard yourself utter stupidly.
You hesitated for just a second, realizing that maybe you should pinch yourself first to see if this was actually happening, but then Shouto was already there, covering your mouth with his.
His kiss was hot and soft and utterly perfect, and very quickly there were no thoughts in your brain at all, nothing but the feel of him over you, one muscled thigh pressing insistently between yours, his long fingers tangling gently in the hair behind your ear. You clutched him to you tightly, an embarrassing little sound escaping you, and Shouto groaned, pressing more of his weight down on you, licking firmly into your mouth.
You were half-delirious with the feeling of him by the time he let you up for air, and you could feel yourself grinning like an absolute fool.
“I had a secret admirer,” you said. “You were being serious.”
Shouto smirked, leaning in to press a hot kiss to your throat. Your thighs clenched involuntarily. “Yes, I had been secretly admiring you for a while.”
For some reason, the words embarrassed you, and you tucked your face into his broad shoulder. “I...this is so embarrassing. I’ve been...admiring you, too.”
You heard Shouto huff a soft laugh, and then his calloused fingers were gripping your chin, angling your face back towards him so he could seize your mouth again. You went slack and pliant underneath him, enjoying the press of his mouth on yours, your toes curling when he did something particularly talented with his tongue.
“I did tell you,” Shouto said after a while, pulling back, one of his hands gripping your thigh.
“Tell me what?” you asked absently, wondering how you could get his mouth on yours again.
His eyes caught yours, the blue of his left glittering at you conspiratorially. “That I could be subtle.”
You laughed, feeling stupid--but more than that, flushed and completely pleased. You didn’t know if subtle was exactly the right word, but you weren’t going to argue specifics at the moment. “I guess you can be. Though you might have been a little bit more overt before now.”
“Then if you don’t mind,” Shouto said after a while, something like amusement in his voice, “I’d like to take you home and admire you quite overtly now.”
You were answering before he could even finish. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”
Shouto laughed again, smoothing a large palm down your side.
And then he did. And not even chocolates from Grégoire Chardin could compare.
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nanagoswife · 3 years ago
Text
Noticing You, Noticing Me
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Chapter Four
(bonus points to whoever guesses what this gif is from)
Summary: The ball continues.
W/C: 2.9k
Warnings: None other than the usual bad editing.
A/N: So, I'm now putting this story on a schedule. Pretty much to keep myself from posting it all and then having nothing to post until I write more😅 either way, I love the reactions everyone is having to this. Speaking of which, if I don't reply to your comment, I sincerely apologise. I truly do see them and if I have time between writing and work, I'll do my best to reply. I love you all and wish you all the best. (Also a bit of good news. I'm no longer on evacuation alert so no more fear of needing to leave suddenly) -B
- - -
Anakin, Padmé, Varlo, your father and mother all were standing together as you made your way over. The excited feeling in your chest nearly died until your mother caught your eye. She had a knowing and mischievous smile as you made your way to them.
When Padmé saw you she ran over to meet you, far enough so that the others couldn’t hear your conversation, you noticed.
“Do you like him?” she asked. You knew she wasn’t going to dawdle. Yet, you were still hoping she wouldn’t go straight to the point.
Even with that being said, you couldn’t help but smile as you thought about Obi-Wan.
“Oh come on, Padmé,” you heard Anakin as he approached. “We could clearly see her heart eyes from across the ballroom.”
Embarrassment quickly filled you at his words as your cheeks quickly heated. The two of them only lightly chuckled.
“I’m joking, sis. Come on,” Anakin said, gesturing to the rest of the group.
When you looked at Varlo, he didn’t look too happy. Assuming it may have been because of the conversation with your father earlier, you gave him a smile. He brightened for a moment before it dulled down.
“I guess me being your first dance was canceled.” Although you could hear the sarcastic lilt, there was an edge to his words. It confused you but you pushed it away.
“Not tonight, sorry.”
“Y/N, darling,” your mother said as she took your hand, ending the conversation with Varlo, “it’s time to introduce you to someone.”
At first you were confused until a tall man joined the group. Although his figure was imposing, he radiated a calming energy. The smile he wore was kind as he bowed, revealing the crown that lay on his head.
“King Qui-Gon Jinn of Coruscant,” he introduced himself.
With a curtsey, you did the same.
“If I may, would I be able to speak with you alone?” King Jinn asked. Turning to your father, he nodded before leaving you alone in the quieter section of the grand room.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty.”
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine. Your father speaks very highly of you.” He paused for a moment before adding, “It’s also nice to meet someone who has finally caught the attention of my son.”
You felt your cheeks begin to heat up again. The intensity was mild as you saw the genuine happiness in the smile of the king.
“He’s quite… amazing. Your son is nothing but a gentleman.” As you thought about the  time you’ve spent with Obi-Wan, you smiled. “And I have to say, he’s just…” you trailed off as you thought of how happy you were while you were with him.
“I’m glad to hear it,” his own smile gave away how much he truly loved your feelings about Obi-Wan. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I truly would like to hear about all that you do in your kingdom. Your father explains some, but I’d rather hear it from you.”
You looked up at King Jinn with wide eyes which made him laugh.
“Really? You want to know about that?”
He nodded. “Does no one else ask?”
You looked down with a twinge of sadness. “No. People are usually only interested in hearing about my brothers. Even when they talk to me.”
“Well, I’ve heard enough about your brothers for one night, personally. I want to know about what you do.”
Looking back up, you beamed. Between this man and Obi-Wan, you were truly happy that, for once, people wanted to get to know you.
-
Obi-Wan stood off to the side and watched the people dancing. A couple of women came up to him hoping for a dance, but he politely declined them. Not only was he wanting to wait until you were back, but he only wanted to dance with you.
So, here he stood watching as everyone enjoyed their evening. There were even a few times that he spotted Cody with his brothers Rex, Fives and Echo. Each of them were laughing as they talked. It didn’t go unnoticed that Cody seemed to find interest in someone as well. Cody did share a dance or two with them, but if anything more happened Obi-Wan didn’t see as Anakin walked up to him.
“Enjoying the party?” Anakin said with a teasing lilt.
When Obi-Wan glanced over, he saw a knowing look. He couldn’t help but wonder if your brother had seen the two of you dancing. If so, how much did he see?
“I was. I will be,” he said as he thought about spending the rest of the ball with you. At least, he hoped you would spend the rest of the evening with him.
“She has, and will be as well,” was all Anakin said before going over to Padmé.
Obi-Wan sighed in exultation, a smile forming on his lips for the first time since you left. If Anakin approved of the two of you, it gave him hope that the rest of your family approved. It was all Obi-Wan could want at this point.
Even if the two of you only met tonight, he wanted to talk to you more. He wanted to get to know you more. If he was lucky, maybe you would like to know him better as well.
“Mind if I join you?” you asked from beside him.
With a smile, he stood from the pillar he was leaning against so he could face you. Your own smile greeted him which caused the now familiar warmth in his chest to return.
“Not at all. Would you care to dance?”
Your smile grew as he held out his hand. Without any hesitation you took his hand and followed him to the floor.
“I had a pleasant conversation with a rather charming man just now,” you say as you settle back into your position that you were in before Varlo came to get you.
Obi-Wan tilted his head to the side, raising his eyebrows, “Oh really? May I ask who?”
A playful smirk curved a corner of your lips. “A really handsome, tall man that some may say passed his looks down to his son.”
As he realized who you were talking about, he felt his cheeks heat up. He was flattered.
“Well, thank you. On both of our behalfs,” he replied with a chuckle. He wished he could pay you a similar compliment, but he hadn’t met anyone other than your brothers and your father. Giving a compliment based off of your father’s looks just didn’t seem right.
For a few moments, he fell back into the colour of your eyes. There was so much he wanted to say, but the thoughts weren’t translating to words. Truly, you had him speechless. Ever since the first moment he saw you.
It didn’t bother him one bit, either. One way or another, he wanted to listen to you.
“So, would I be able to hear about what else you did in Naboo?”
Your eyes lit up at his question as you nodded.
-
Even though you loved dancing, you and Obi-Wan only stayed for a few more songs before making your way to the side. It did make talking easier.
Obi-Wan seemed even more interested with your dealings in your castle than his father was. He asked even more questions, and better yet, didn’t change the topic until the first was done.
When you looked at it, you were the one that was mainly talking. Although it was refreshing and you thought the look he had nearly the whole time was endearing, you wanted to hear more from him. In truth, you didn’t know much about him before he came here other than the fact that he was King Jinn’s son.
“How about you?” you asked. “What is life like in the great Coruscant?”
He smiled. “Not as interesting as it is here.”
You chuckled, “Seriously. Didn’t you say that children come up to you with questions?”
“Yes,” he said with a fond smile. “It’s something I picked up from my mother. She used
to do it for me and my friends growing up. I guess you could say I just… expanded it.”
With a smile, you encouraged him to tell you more. You were interested in all he did. Not only that, but you felt yourself falling for him with each story he told.
It seemed like the two of you were very familiar in many ways. Although he was well known as the only son of his parents, people weren’t interested in what he actually did, just like you. He explained how people only cared about how good he was with a sword or they only consulted him about things with his father.
“When my father tried to hold balls to find me a partner, no one cared about anything other than the fact that I was royalty. They were highly uninterested in me, well, except for my physical looks.” His face twisted in slight disgust as he thought about it. “My mother was the one to convince my father to stop forcing it on me a couple of years ago.”
“Your mother sounds like an amazing woman,” you said, more to yourself than to Obi-Wan.
Either way, he heard it and smiled.
“May I ask where she is?”
Obi-Wan’s smile slightly dropped when you asked. He looked down at the floor before saying, “She passed a year and a half ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” you said quietly. Sadness filled you at the thought of how recent her passing was. With the stories he told of her, you wished you could’ve met her.
“I wish she were here tonight. She would’ve loved you,” he said quietly.
When you looked over at him, there was a small smirk on his lips. His eyes were reflecting a glint of sorrow before brightening again before meeting yours.
“Would it be alright if we go back to that balcony? I feel like the lake would look extraordinary with the moon fully out,” he said, his tone filled with hopeful anticipation. It made him sound so innocent, a huge contradiction to nearly every other topic the two of you have discussed.
Despite that, excitement grew in you at the thought of having conversations truly in private. Sure, you were having private conversations now, but there were so many people around you. The combination of the music and the chatter of everyone in this one room made it loud. Being able to talk without having to raise your voice would be an amazing change of pace for the evening.
That’s why you hardly hesitated in agreeing.
“Do you remember where to go?” you asked in a playful tone, linking your arm through his when he offered.
“I would say yes, but I believe there’s one turn I’m not too sure about,” he replied, his expression matching your tone. His eyebrows were raised which caused you to giggle.
So, like you did coming down, you led him back up to the balcony on the second floor. The two of you were laughing before stepping out of the doors, immediately stopping to take in the nightly sights.
The lake was beautiful during sunsets, but you thought it was even more magnificent at night. Twinkling stars danced across the surface of the water, only interrupted by the rare cloud. When it came to the moon, it hung in the sky and kissed the surface of the Earth with light. It caused each tree to cast hauntingly beautiful shadows across the grasses around the lake, a path that ultimately leads to an outer castle garden.
Everything that was once bright with colour was hardly seen, but replaced with a new glow. It reminded you of something General Yoda had once told you.
“In a dark place, we find ourselves,” he had said to you once during a conflict with another kingdom that was threatening to wage war. “And a little more knowledge lights our way,” he finished.
At the time, the wise general who you never saw fight, let alone train with any of the soldiers, was referring to the document that would later prevent the war from happening. Now, you applied it to the sight in front of you. In the dark of this night, it showed you new things that lit a new path that would make the next day brighter. It would make the colours of the flowers more vibrant, the trees look a little stronger, the water clearer. It reminded you that, without the night, there could be no day.
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you almost forgot that Obi-Wan was with you. When you looked at him, though, he seemed to be as lost in the surroundings as you were. Fascination was painted across his features. Yet, he was more aware than you assumed, especially with the fact that it seemed like he looked away when you looked at him.
“It’s alright,” he said softly while looking back at you, “I was lost in the beauty as well.”
His eyes stared into yours, and you did the same with his. There was a new light that shone from them. Even in the dark, it was almost like they glowed. You felt your cheeks begin to flush as you realized what he meant.
When you turned to face him, you let your hand gently graze down his arm. Though, when you went to bring your hand back thinking that you had once again gone too far, his hand caught yours. Without much hesitation, you intertwined your fingers with his. Despite both of you wearing gloves, the warmth of his hand was comforting as you took a small step closer to him.
Your heart was beating so hard that you thought it would beat itself out of your chest as your eyes remained locked with his.
Without much thought, but with the most right feeling, you started to lean forward, as did he. You saw as his eyes flicked down to your lips a couple times, ultimately finding their place in your eyes.
The two of you were centimeters apart when someone cleared their throat at the door.
Both of you jumped, letting go of the other’s hand as Obi-Wan took a single step back. You really didn’t want him to, but he had to.
When you looked over to the door, you were met by a sight you didn’t expect. Varlo stood just behind another man who had a smirk on his face, though he looked apologetic at the same time. Looking at Varlo, he looked shocked, almost like he had been betrayed.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat as he took a step closer to the pair. “Cody, is there something important?”
“My apologies, your highness. Your father wanted me to tell you that he was retiring for the evening and that he wishes that you enjoy the rest of your night.”
“Commander, I highly doubt that’s all you’re here for. You aren’t a messenger boy,” Obi-Wan said jokingly to Cody who you now realized must be Obi-Wan’s guard. You noticed that he looked very familiar.
Cody laughed. “I also wanted to tell you that I’m taking my leave for the night as well. Rex suggested I join him and my other brothers.”
Oh, so that’s why you find him familiar. He must be one of the brothers from Coruscant that Rex, Echo and Fives mention once in a while.
Behind Cody, Varlo shifted as he looked at the ground. For some reason he looked unsettled. Was it because of how he saw you and Obi-Wan together?
When you met his eyes, he seemed to snap out of a train of thought as he slightly shook his head to clear it.
“For me, I truly am only a messenger. Anakin and Padmé are leaving, as well as mother and I,” he said, his voice sounding strained as if he was keeping himself from raising his voice. It confused you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you nodded which gave the two other men the incentive to leave you and Obi-Wan alone once more.
“I believe that means the evening is sadly drawing to a close,” you say, disappointment filling your tone. Although you were still wanting to kiss him, now no longer seemed like the right time. It felt as though it would be forced if you did.
Obi-Wan nodded as a look of understanding washed over him. Was he thinking the same thing?
“Before we head back,” he quickly started before you could start to walk away, “I’m here for a few more days and… I was wondering i-if you weren’t busy if you’d-”
“Yes,” you answered, knowing what he was going to say. “I would love to spend more time with you. How about meeting in the garden just before noon?”
Obi-Wan visibly relaxed as he beamed at you which you returned in entirety. So, as you took his arm to now end the night, you could only look forward to the next few days in anticipation.
- - -
@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05 @blondekel77 @cosmicsierra @badbatch-simp24
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skellebonez · 4 years ago
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With the prompt list, how about someone seeing MK with Monkie King with number 15?
Picking prompts back up with a nice dose of Dad Wukong! I needed some fluff! This is set in *shrug* post-season 2 because despite us only having 2 episodes so far I’m going to pretend season 2 wraps up just enough to give us a hook for a possible 3rd season but everyone is doing ok. For now. I just want everyone in the show to be safe and happy dang it!
Oh god, you’re just like your dad.
"Where to next?" MK asked, looking around the shopping district in excitement. It had taken him so long to convince Sun Wukong to actually join him on a day of just hanging out, outside of a couple short trips to the Anti-Gravity Arcade, and he wanted to cram as much into the day as humanly possible. "Video game store? Cheese tea stall? The new bakery, th-!?"
"Whoa, Bud, slow down!" Wukong eased with a smile. "We have all day. We can go wherever."
"And you’re sure you’re doing good?" Despite the Monkey King's soft tone, MK couldn't help but practically vibrate in equal parts excitement and worry. "There aren't too many people or anything?"
His concerns weren't unwarranted. Sun Wukong had been nearly completely isolated for centuries, company kept only with the monkeys of his mountain home and the odd outing into the world outside. And, of course, online correspondence with his lawyer after a time. Typically he was transformed in some way, a butterfly or bird or cat or something easy to blend in, and though he had made a couple short stops in a human disguise in the past. A quick drink here, a bun or fruit cup there. Nothing that required more than a quick transaction, however.
Now he was in the city, Wàn Qiān Chéng, in that human disguise and staying around. In jeans and a t-shirt and jacket (that MK was genuinely shocked to know he owned, until he realized that they were all branded Monkey King merchandise... including his jeans). Surrounded by people and cars and all manner of things the Monkey King would typically avoid. Despite the gradual introduction to being out and about MK was trying to ease him into, he couldn't help but worry that it would be overwhelming.
"Like I told you before, I'm doing fine!" Wukong put a hand in MK's hair, ruffling it gently with a soft smile.The sudden contact was... well, not that unusual actually. Nor was it unwelcome. The Monkey King always seemed to be a tactile person after all. "But, uh, now that I think about it I am getting kind of hungry. There was a little food stall pretty close by that I’ve been to a few times..."
“Oh, yeah!” MK exclaimed in glee, any place that his mentor frequented (however rarely) must be somewhere nice and he absolutely wanted to experience that! “Lead the way!”
Wukong laughed at MK’s exuberant response, smile softening as he indeed lead the way. “It’s, uh... actually the only place I’ve gone to for food when I’m checking in on you. So don’t be surprised, they’re going to recognize me.”
Ah, that made sense in MK’s mind. Had this been a few weeks ago MK might have been surprised to know that he was being checked in on, Heck, if this was before the Lunar New Year festival he would called anyone who told him a liar. Sun Wukong was not protective of him and he always left MK on his own because he trusted him!
And that last statement was very correct. Wukong did trust MK, more than enough. He knew he could handle just about anything that he would have gotten thrown at him. But not protective was a lie. Maybe it was Macaque, or maybe it was the Spider Queen, but after a while something in his mentor changed. He went from being aloof but helpful to being nearly non-existent (and when MK learned exactly what he had actually been doing he was not happy) and then “I’m just checking in, Bud, my dude, my student who I am not at all protective of what are you talking about” upon his return from his “vacation”.
Wukong trusted his student to handle himself. But that didn’t mean he didn’t worry about him now that the full extent of the danger he had put him in was known. And while some parts of it had been frustrating at times (he had been way too eager to stay at the Noodle Shop at first for Pigsy’s liking) it was kind of nice to have him around in just a casual way. Like when they watched the fireworks.
But beside that point, they finally arrived at the food stall. It was a street vendor, the booth decked out in bright colors and rows of food on offer, mostly...
“Baozi, should have known,” MK chuckled. The Monkey King didn’t make a lot of food at his home, but he made more than enough. Baozi was one of his favorites. “Well, they have got to be good if you keep coming back!”
“They’re not the only reason!” Wukong replied as they stepped up, the lady vendor doing a double take before smiling wide at him. “Hey!”
“Mr. Cheung!” She smiled wide, turning her full attention to the customers. “Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise, you’re a day early! Would you like your usual vegetarian order again?”
“Yes, please!” Wukong’s smile was wide, and if his tail had not been wrapped around his waist MK was certain it would have been swishing wildly. He’d clearly gained some kind of rapport with the vendor of this stall if they were on a “human disguise name” basis. “And, uh, something for my bud here too. Doesn’t have to be vegetarian for him though.”
“I’ll take whatever you think is tasty!” MK stated excitedly, nearly bouncing on his heels in the spot.
"Oh god, you’re just like your dad," the vendor laughed out with a smile as she turned away from them, and Wukong froze beside MK in response.
MK froze in response.
The Monkie Kid was almost certain he had never seen his mentor go this still. Ever.
" Oh no, he's n-"
"He is, huh!? Peach doesn't fall far from the tree!" Wukong laughed almost giddily and almost excessively loud, suddenly wrapping an arm around MK's shoulder and reaching around with his other arm to ruffle his hair once again. “He’s kind of embarrassed anytime someone points that out.”
MK could hear the vendor chuckling and responding with something else, but he couldn’t really understand it as he mulled over what Sun Wukong had just said.
“He is, huh!?”
He didn’t deny the vendor’s assumption at all. He just... went with it. Sun Wukong... just went with someone assuming MK was his son...
He barely paid attention when they were handed their food, the vendor insisting that since he was such a loyal customer that it was free of charge for finally introducing his son to her. Wukong did not deny it again, making pleasant conversation for a short while before they headed off. Wukong’s free hand was firm on his back as he led him away.
“Bud?” Wukong said once they were out of earshot, his tone oddly soft and uncertain for someone of his status. “That uh... I mean... you see... I wasn’t expecting her to just...”
“Have you been bragging about me like I’m your kid to a street vendor every time to check up on me?” MK asked softly, unable to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.
“... maybe?”
“... you adopted me and you didn’t tell me?” MK asked with half joking offense in his tone, pointing his baozi at his mentor. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he said it.
And it seemed that somehow the combination of the way he said that and his exuberant expression drove the Monkey King into a fit of laughter that drew the attention of many passersby.
(The baozi were, as expected of a place that Sun Wukong would frequent, some of the best that MK had ever tasted in his life. Though, perhaps, they were made all the tastier knowing that he was eating them with someone who he had long secretly considered a father figure to him who had seemingly adopted him without meaning to.)
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miyagihawk · 4 years ago
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it's not an ask, but i don't know if i can send it on your chat, so... i saw your post about a song and a character from cobra kai and automatically thought of sk8r boi (avril lavigne) and robby 😩😩😩 have a nice day and don't forget to drink water 💞
THANK U FOR THE REQUEST i love this song sm
sk8r boi | robby keene x reader
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warnings: swearing, some catcalling
summary: he was a skater boy! she said see you later boy! he wasn’t good enough for her! (hehe)
“Come on Riley, Mom wants us home by 6 and we still have to get stuff from the store,” you crossed your arms, annoyed at your brother. He ignored you, dipping down, wheels first, into the concrete bowl.
You shifted on your feet, feeling uncomfortable standing at the skate park with your ballet attire still on. You’ve just come back from rehearsal, and you had to pick up Riley because Mom was working a late shift.
“Shit Riley, I didn’t know your sister was hot. Qué pasa ballerina?” one of his friends winked at you, making you roll your eyes in disgust.
“Hey, do a little twirl for us princess,” another boy whistled and you glared at the group.
Pigs. Boys are pigs.
“Riley, let’s go,” you said firmly, turning away and heading to your car, leaving him with no choice but to follow if he didn’t want to walk home.
Your brother’s friend group of skaters hollered and whooped as Riley caught up to you, and you had to focus on your breathing to calm your anger. You hate being made fun of, but you reminded yourself that they were just a bunch of stupid, hormonal, punks.
“Your friends are assholes,” you commented, and your brother only nodded in agreement.
“Hey,” a voice called from behind you, but you kept walking, assuming that it was just another guy trying to poke fun at you.
“Hey, wait,” the person said again, this time grabbing your arm to stop you.
You turned around quickly, pulling away from their grip. “What?” you snapped, meeting a pair of calm green eyes.
It was one of Riley’s friends, the one with long hair. You don’t remember him saying anything to you earlier; he seemed to be quiet.
“I just wanted to say sorry. About them. They don’t know how to talk to girls, I promise they’re not that bad,” he said, holding his skateboard at his side. His genuineness surprised you.
“So you do?”
He gave you a confused look, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Know how to talk to girls,” you clarified and he chuckled.
“I know a thing or two. I’m Robby,” the boy stuck out his hand for you to take.
“Wow you’re good,” you joked. “I’m Y/N,” you took his rough hand in your soft one.
-
After that day at the skatepark, you couldn’t stop thinking about Robby.
You don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was his glittery eyes. Or his pretty hair. Or the way he smiled with his whole face. Or maybe it was how he talked in a way that told you he was smarter than most people.
Maybe it was all of those things that made you daydream like a schoolgirl with a crush. And all you wanted to do was see him again.
“Jenny doesn’t even deserve the variation, I mean we all saw what happened last time. She almost fell off stage! Anyone but her should have it,” your friend Abby ranted, sipping on her milkshake.
It was after rehearsal and your friend group decided to go to a diner to get food.
“It’s clearly favoritism. She could do the whole routine wrong and Ms. Adams would still choose her. I think Jenny’s parents are definitely bribing her,” your other friend Vanessa added to the gossip.
The whole time, you were half listening to the conversation and half thinking about a certain skater boy. You couldn’t even control it; your thoughts always somehow drifted to him.
“Oh my god. Skaters,” Abby whispered, making you snap out of your daydream. You looked up to see a pack of boys coming into the restaurant, holding their boards at their hips.
Among them was your little brother and your heart raced as you recognized all of them.
It was like your overflow of thoughts about him had somehow materialized right in front of you. Robby.
Your hands started to sweat and you contemplated if you should hide or say hello, or just act like you didn’t see him.
You decided to go for the latter, and you slumped down in your seat to make yourself less noticeable.
“God, look at them. Skater boys are the scum of the earth,” Abby uttered, making a face of distaste.
“I would never date one. Even that’s below me,” Vanessa scoffed in reply.
You felt your cheeks heat up at their remarks, now feeling ashamed for your growing feelings for the very thing they were so disgusted at.
“Same,” you replied, despite feeling conflict in your heart. You looked over Vanessa’s shoulder to see him laughing with his group, and his happiness made your heart warm.
Before you could look away, his eyes met yours. You cursed internally at your ruined plans of trying to ignore him, but the damage was done. You shot him a small smile and a nod before returning your gaze back to your friends.
It took everything in you to not look at him again, especially with the feeling of his stare on you.
“Holy shit. One of them’s coming over,” Abby said in a hushed tone, your stomach dropping at her words.
You looked up to see Robby heading over to your table as you panicked on the inside.
“Hey Y/N,” he said as he approached, and you looked back at his table to see his friends watching.
“Robby! Hi!” you greeted nervously. “Uh, these are my friends. Abby and Vanessa. Girls, this is Robby,” you introduced them.
“Nice to meet you,” he nodded at them, and they waved. Their smiles were definitely fake, and you could tell how hard they were judging the boy in front of you.
“So, um, do you guys come here a lot?” you tried to make conversation, but the air was too awkward to be saved.
“Not really, our usual place was closed so we came here,” Robby explained, glaring at his friends who were starting to boisterously taunt. “I should go. Sorry about them. Again. Just wanted to say hey.”
“All good,” you laughed. “See you.”
As he walked back to his table your friends turned to you, mouths agape.
“You know him?! What was that?” Abby inquired, giving you a look of disbelief.
“He’s... he’s just my brother’s friend,” you shrugged, trying to play it off.
“Just your brother’s friend. He totally had heart eyes for you Y/N!” Vanessa nudged your side, making you shake your head in denial.
You rolled your eyes, but what she said gave you butterflies. “No way, I’ve only met him once.”
“Whatever, just don’t fall into the trap. You’re too good for a skater. They’re scum, remember?” Abby said, as she chewed obnoxiously on a fry. You found yourself suddenly annoyed at her.
“Yeah, of course. I would never,” you contradicted your feelings.
They were probably right. You don’t even know Robby, and you were from completely different worlds.
-
You told yourself that you would push away your growing feelings for Robby. But you couldn’t help but be excited when you have to pick up Riley from the skatepark. You couldn’t help asking your brother maybe too many questions about him, and you couldn’t help looking out for him every time you would go to the diner with your girls.
He would always talk to you, making you giddy for the rest of the day. You found yourself wanting to see him more and more.
“So how long have you been skating?” you asked the boy beside you.
You were waiting for Riley to finish so you could go home, but you let him take his time.
“I started when I was 11, but it’s been on and off,” Robby replied. “Have you ever skated?”
You laughed at the thought of yourself on a board. “Never. It looks cool though,” you watched as your brother skated off some stairs.
“I think you’d be good at it. I mean ballet and skating are pretty much the same thing,” he grinned at you, making you blush and look away from him.
“Ballet and skating couldn’t be more different,” you disagreed.
Robby shrugged. “Wrong. Both are centered around balance. Skating, if you think about it, is choreography. Sure we’re not as graceful, but it’s not as different as you think.”
You smiled to yourself at his wiseness. “I guess you’re right.”
There’s a moment of silence between you two as you both sat at the edge of the bowl.
“So when are we starting?” he spoke, making you tilt your head in confusion.
“Starting what?”
“I’m teaching you how to skate,” he answered nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t giving you a choice.
“What? I-I can’t skate,” you stammered. The thought of you embarrassing yourself in front of him made you want to puke.
“Which is why I’m teaching you. Come on, I promise I won’t let you hurt your pretty little ballerina face,” Robby smiled.
Your head suddenly felt dizzy at his small remark. Pretty. “I don’t know Robby...”
“Tomorrow. At 5. I’ll even take you to that diner you like after. It’s a date,” he said surely, making your cheeks warm up again.
A date? Your heart fluttered at the thought of him wanting to hang out with you. Alone. On a freaking date.
“Okay, fine,” you bit your lip, trying to hold back a huge smile. “But only because of the promise of food.”
-
“I hate you,” Robby huffed as he watched you effortlessly roll past him on his skateboard.
“I can’t believe you compared this to ballet, this is so easy,” you jeered, laughing at his defeated look.
“Oh calm down Ms. Black Swan, you haven’t learned any tricks yet,” he stood up, walking over to you. “I’m going to teach you an ollie.”
He grabbed the board and stood on it, leaning down on the edge with one foot so that the board was wheels up on the other side. “Just do that.”
Robby handed you the skateboard, and you copied everything he did. Except you lost your balance and the wheels slipped from underneath you. You grabbed onto his shoulders as a reflex.
Your breath hitched as Robby’s placed his hands on your hips to steady you, and your faces were inches away. He was so close that you could feel his breath and see the pattern of his eyes.
“Not so easy, is it now?” he said softly, still holding onto you. The air was now filled with a thick tension and you felt woozy from being so close to him.
“I... I guess not,” you fumbled over your words, feeling incredibly nervous looking into his eyes.
None of you were pulling away, and you weren’t sure if you should be the first to do so.
“Can I kiss you?” Robby whispered, making you breathless. You were sure that he could hear your heartbeat, because it felt like it was consuming you.
You only nodded, feeling speechless, and he leaned in to press your lips together.
It was everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And you dreamed about it a lot.
-
“You’re so much different from your friends. How come?” You chewed on a fry, questioning the boy sitting in the diner booth in front of you.
Robby tapped his lip in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe I just balance out the group. You’re different from your friends too. I mean I’ve only met them once, but I don’t think they like me,” he replied, and you cringed at the memory of your friends being so judgmental.
“That makes sense. And sorry about them. They can be... mean,” you apologized on their behalf, almost in the same way that Robby would for his friends.
“Speak of the devil,” Robby looked behind you, making your eyes widen. You turned around and there they were. Abby and Vanessa. You didn’t even care that they were hanging out with you; you were worried that they would see you with Robby.
You slumped down in your seat like you did when you were trying to hide from Robby before. “We should go now, right? It’s getting pretty late.”
Robby gave you a weird look, “Um... sure.”
“Y/N?” a dreaded voice called your name before you could make your escape.
You faced your two best friends. “Hey guys,” you said sheepishly as they walked up to your table.
“What are you doing with him? Oh my god, are you two on a date?” Abby gasped.
Vanessa joined in, “You said you’d never date someone like him. Oh come on Y/N, you know he’s not good enough for you. What happened to boys like him are below us?”
Robby’s face flashed with pain, but you were so selfish that you didn’t even notice.
“No- I- We’re just friends, I swear it’s not a date. I would never-” you stuttered, trying to save yourself, and you didn’t even think of Robby’s feelings at all. In the moment you only cared about your reputation and what your friends thought of you.
The boy you liked so much got up from the booth, throwing a wad of cash on the table. You felt your heart break as he walked away without a word and clenched fists.
You got up to follow him, but your friends pulled you back. “Just let him go Y/N. He’ll just break your heart,” Abby said coldly.
You ripped your arm away from their grip, running through the diner to catch up to Robby.
“Robby! Please, stop, I’m sorry,” you called after him, trying to keep up with how fast he was walking.
He ignored you the first time, increasing his pace.
“Please, Robby, can we just talk about it? I’m stupid, okay? Don’t go,” you pleaded, and he finally stopped in his tracks.
You’ve never seen his face like that, a mixture of anger and pain. The fact that it was directed towards you made you want to just melt away.
“You want to talk? Am I even good enough to talk to you? I’m sorry, should I be on my knees right now your majesty?” he said angrily, and you felt like crying.
You shook your head, “No, no Robby I swear I don’t think of you that way. I said things that I don’t mean and I’m so sorry. I- I just... my friends were saying all this shit about-”
“Just- just stop. You’re saying different things to different people, and I’m just supposed to trust you? And what, was I just going to be a secret? Look, I have to go,” he turned around to keep walking but you took his hand.
“I was going to tell them Robby, I like you so much and please, I’ll fix it. I’ll talk to them and-”
He cut your frantic rambling off again, “Y/N... I like you too alright? And I get it. I get wanting to fit in with your friends, even if you don’t agree with them. I learned from it myself. I just need time to think about all of it.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair.
You nodded in understanding, but your heart was hurting. “I’m sorry,” you said one last time before he took off on his skateboard.
a/n: why was that sm longer than i planned... also sorry for any mistakes im too lazy to edit. there probably won’t be a part 2 because the song doesn’t have a happy ending lol hope u enjoyed!!!!
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jikookiekosmos · 3 years ago
Text
Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)
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➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader
➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.
➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff
➥Rating: 18+
➥Words: ~7.1k
➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings
A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~
Thank you @dntaewithluv​​​​ for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️
taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk​ @bangtanhome
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
5 Years Ago
The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.
Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.
Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.
Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.
Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.
“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”
“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”
You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.
An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.
You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.
They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.
Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.
The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.
It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.
This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.
Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.
Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.
Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.
Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.
You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.
Their response?
“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”
You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.
You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.
The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.
But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…
It almost made you want to believe it.
“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.
A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”
So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.
To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”
“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”
He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.
“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”
He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”
You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”
Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.
He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.
“Hey, wait! Please.”
The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.
You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.
“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”
Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”
The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”
That got your attention. “You do?”
“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”
“My story?”
He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”
Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.
“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.
You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.
“I believe you.”
All of the breath was knocked out of you.
“You…you believe me?”
The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”
It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.
“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.
The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.
“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.
The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.
“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”
He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”
You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.
“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”
The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”
His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.
“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”
You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.
“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”
For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”
Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.
One of the only best friends you’d ever had.
What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
Present Day
You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.
But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.
As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.
Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.
“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.
“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.
Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.
He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”
You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”
Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.
Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.
You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.
“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”
“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”
“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”
You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”
Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”
You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.
So, you were at a loss.
Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.
But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.
Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.
You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.
Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-
Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.
“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.
“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”
A heavy sigh wracked through your body.
Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”
“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”
You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.
The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.
There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.
Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.
He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.
Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”
“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”
Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.
“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”
“…not sure I’m following you.”
Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”
The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.
“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”
He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”
“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.
“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”
You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.
“What else do you know about him?”
Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”
“No idea what he looks like?”
Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”
You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.
“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”
Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”
Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”
Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.
“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.
“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”
You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”
He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.
You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.
After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.
You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.
You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.
“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”
You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.
10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.
The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.
You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.
You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.
[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.
Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.
With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.
And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!
Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.
[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?
You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.
[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.
You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.
Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.
The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.
It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.
[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?
There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?
The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.
“I take it you’re Y/N?”
You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.
“Follow me.”
She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.
You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.
“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.
The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:
KIM TAEHYUNG
Private Detective
The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.
The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.
The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.
Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.
Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.
When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.
For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.
He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.
You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.
“Y/N, is it?”
You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.
There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.
He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.
“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”
You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.
“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”
You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”
The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”
“What do the basics entail?”
He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.
His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.
“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”
He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”
You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”
“Proof?”
You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”
“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”
“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”
“Um…yes?”
It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”
His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”
You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.
“Well, Mr. Kim-”
“Taehyung.”
“Sorry?”
“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”
You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?
“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”
You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.
“Why don’t you trust the police?”
You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”
“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.
“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”
“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”
“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.
For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”
You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”
“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”
His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.
“Thank you.”
He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.
“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”
A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”
He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.
“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”
“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”
“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”
“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.
“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.
“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”
“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”
You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”
“You won’t.”
His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.
Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.
“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”
“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”
A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”
You…weren’t sure how to take that.
“I am?”
“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”
You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”
His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.
“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”
You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.
“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.
You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-
-but the last line caught your attention.
“Could you explain this last part, please?”
Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”
“But don’t you have to sometimes?”
“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”
“You talk like that’s happened before.”
Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.
“So, are we in business?”
You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.
“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”
You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”
He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.
“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”
He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.
“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”
His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.
“Finished?”
You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.
“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”
“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.
Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.
“Any questions for me?”
You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.
“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”
“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.
Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?
You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.
When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.
You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.
He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-
-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.
As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
➥Part 2
➥Series Masterlist
➥All Works Masterlist
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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago
Text
Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 2
Oils
Cult girl socializes at the opera and receives an unexpected call. 
Note: I tagged this as “anti mlm” as in multi-level marketing and not men-loving-men. 
Trigger warnings: Discussions of cults and emotional manipulation
It wasn't until after the opera was over that people began to notice you may have had a little fun during intermission. Hannibal's hair wasn't in its usual perfect side part and his jacket was slightly wrinkled in places. You could cover most of his love bites with your stole, but nothing could hide that post-orgasm glow.
Most opera-goers stayed to socialize for hours after the show concluded, making an already long night even longer. It was like clubbing, but for rich old people.
"So you're the future Mrs. Hannibal Lecter?" A woman with silvery hair said. She dragged her husband into the conversation by the arm. "I've heard so much about you."
You were about to say something witty, but noticed the way she was looking at you. Scanning you up and down. Looking for anything out of place to grill you about.
"Only good things, I hope." Hannibal said in your silence. His voice was vaguely threatening. "She is a doctoral student, in her second year of her graduate studies in clinical psychology."
The husband, who, up to this point, hadn't spoken a word, perked up. "Is that right?"
You smiled, excited for the chance to talk about your passion. "Yes sir. I've still got quite a ways to go, but I love my work."
"You should be proud." The man praised, looking at Hannibal. "You've got yourself an ambitious wife."
"Oh, we're not married yet." You corrected.
"So when can we expect an invitation?" The woman asked.
"Six months from now, isn't it?" Hannibal answered. "Memorial day weekend. Then I'm taking her to Italy for a lengthy honeymoon."
The woman threw her head back and sighed. "That sounds heavenly."
"You young modern girls are always so intuitive." The man commented. "I'll bet you tricked him into marrying you."
You wanted to call this guy out for his sexist bullshit, but he wasn't far off. It was Hannibal who tricked you, though.
Technically, he proposed to you within the first six months. You just didn't know it. It took until shockingly recently to find out.
It was during a ballroom dancing lesson of all places. You were sweaty, but loved the feeling of your lover's hands gently guiding your movements. You stepped away from the lesson to get some water, and innocently asked when he would propose to you.
"I believe I already did." He said with enough conviction to blur the lines of seriousness and sarcasm.
"You pretended to." You corrected. "Remember? We were just pretending to be engaged for Anna's wedding."
"But it didn't end after the wedding, did it?" He observed. "You kept calling me your fiancé long after that weekend passed."
You paused, then threw your head back in exasperation. "Oh my god, Hannibal."
Hannibal laughed. "I told you. Someday it won't be a lie."
"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" You pressed your fingers to your temples. "So we've been engaged this whole time?"
"What can I say?" He said, gently. "I knew you were my one and only even then. It was just a matter of circumventing your inhibitions."
"I'm not complaining." You folded your arms. "But a little notice would have been nice."
"Well, if you insist." He laced his fingers between his own. "[F/N] [L/N]. Will you be my wife?"
Even though the question was truly just a formality, you were still as giddy as a schoolgirl to hear those words.
"Yes, Hannibal Lecter." You said, cheeks stinging from smiling so hard. "I will marry you."
Then you just went back to the dance lesson like nothing happened. It was shockingly in-character for both of you.
"No." You shook your head. "We killed someone together and took a blood oath to never separate."
The couple laughed. Hannibal looked down at you with pride.
“So [F/N].” The man said. “Have you given any thought to your doctoral dissertation?” 
“Oh, Charles.” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she didn’t come here to be grilled about her studies.” 
“No, it’s okay.” You smiled. As long as you were talking about school, you weren’t being interrogated about the thirty-year age gap between you and Hannibal. “I have been thinking about my dissertation. There are plenty of fascinating topics to choose from, but I can’t not write it about, well, the reason I began to study psychology in the first place.” 
“And that is?” The man raised an eyebrow.
“Cults.” You said, grinning ear to ear. “Understanding them, their leaders, their followers, why people join them. How they evolve and grow more insidious as time passes. What form they’re starting to take in the digital age.” 
“That is interesting.” The woman’s voice rose, connoting genuine engagement. “And what form are they taking in the digital age?” 
You looked up at Hannibal, as if to ask for permission. Permission to rip into her and burn that bridge for good. He answered in the affirmative. 
“Ma’am, could I take a look at your bracelet?” You asked, already knowing exactly what she would say. 
Her face lit up. “Oh, do you like it?”
She pulled it off her wrist and handed it to you. You brought it to your nose and took a whiff, confirming your theory. Then you handed it off to Hannibal, whose sense of smell was much more refined. He took one breath, then recoiled. 
Hannibal covered his mouth and nose with his hand and coughed. “That is... quite strong, Mrs. DeMarco.” 
“It’s Affirm, by doTERRA.” She revealed, her voice growing defensive. “It helps you ground yourself and remember your worth.” 
You handed the bracelet back to her. “Do you sell doTERRA, Mrs. DeMarco?” 
“Well, now that you mention it...” A small smile appeared on her lips. “Why? Would you like to buy some?” 
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, ma’am, but...” You lied. “You’re actually in a cult.” 
She had nothing to say to that. She just stared at you with her mouth agape, urging you to explain yourself. 
“Multilevel marketing companies employ a host of cult manipulation tactics to con people out of their savings.” You explained. “Just because the promise is financial independence instead of a spot in paradise, doesn’t mean it’s not a lie. Research conducted by the Federal Trade Commission shows that the vast majority of participants actually lose money. The statistics are just a google search away, yet thousands of people still insist on the legitimacy of the companies they sell for.” 
“Well, I-” She protested, but couldn’t find the words to defend herself. “I’m there for the community, really. For the first time in years, I have a sisterhood of like-minded women who love me!” 
You smiled through a cringe. “That’s another pretty common cult manipulation tactic. They appropriate familial language to make people feel more connected to the group than they really should be.” 
Although you didn’t expect her to, she looked to be genuinely considering it. 
“Next time you see your ‘sisters’,” You began. “Pay attention to how they talk about people who are not in the group. Or, better yet, tell them that you’re considering leaving. You’ll see how conditional their love is.” 
An awkward, deafening silence followed. The woman looked at her husband, as if willing him to do something. To stand up to the evil twenty-something grad student who had the audacity to cite her sources. 
Instead, the husband just burst out in riotous laughter. 
“Miriam!” He nearly shouted, heaving like he was about to collapse. “I told you that oil business was up to no good! No honest company makes their employees pay to work!” 
The woman’s face turned red. You almost felt bad for her. The feeling vanished when the man put his hand on your shoulder. 
“Seriously, Dr. Lecter, you’d better keep this one.” He said, wiping a tear from his eye. “She’s an absolute godsend.” 
“No divine intervention was involved whatsoever, Dr. DeMarco.” Hannibal smiled to himself and brought a glass of champagne to his lips. “She is a woman of her own making."
"Oh, we all know that's not entirely true." The woman snapped, slipping into passive-aggression. She glanced at Hannibal. "How much are you spending on this mouthy little know-it-all? Isn't it about $80k a year?"
You, of course, brought this on yourself. You threw down the gauntlet by going after this girlboss's side hustle, so now nothing was off-limits.
"I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. DeMarco." Hannibal said, calmly. "My soon-to-be wife's education is a much better investment than that overpriced napalm you wear on your wrist."
You couldn't help but laugh at that. It was a laugh you shared with the man. Hannibal looked down at you, admiring how your face lit up.
"You'll forgive my wife's rudeness." The man requested. "Please, Ms. [F/N], tell me more about your dissertation."
"Well," you laced your fingers together. "I'm planning to write my dissertation on the cult of academic elitism."
"I would tread lightly, dear." The woman warned, eyes darting to Hannibal. "You wouldn't want to bite the hand that feeds you."
You adjusted your stole, giving them a quick glance at the love bites along your neck.
"I assure you." You said. "He quite likes it when I bite."
Your clutch started to aggressively, audibly vibrate. You could have sworn you'd put your phone on silent, but it buzzed nonetheless.
"Probably just, y'know-" you stuttered, embarrassed. "An amber alert or something."
"We are expecting a snowstorm, I believe. I was warned of it a few minutes ago." Hannibal said, always ready to cover your ass whenever needed. The couple nodded along in understanding.
You pulled your phone from your clutch. Your eyes widened and your face turned sickly pale at the sight of a caller you thought you’d never hear from again. Without thinking, you slid the deny icon across the screen. 
“Right.” You said, tucking your phone and your secrets back into the clutch. “Winter Storm... Theresa is headed this way.” 
Hannibal cleared his throat. “In that case, [F/N] and I must take our leave before we get snowed in. It was very nice catching up with you. I will see to it that [F/N] and I have you for dinner very soon.” 
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castthy-nightedcolour · 3 years ago
Text
One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse
Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they
Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.
Word Count: 2778
Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182
If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:
-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.
-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.
-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.
All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.
Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.
The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.
‘Y/N? Is that you?’
You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.
You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’
You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.
He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.
Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.
In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.
Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.
‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.
‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’
‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’
You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.
‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’
Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.
‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.
‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.
‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.
‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.
‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.
‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.
The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.
‘Can I give you a lift?’
After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.
You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,
‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’
You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.
‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.
Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.
‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.
You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.
‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.
‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.
‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’
‘Snake.’
You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.
‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’
‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’
Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.
You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.
‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.
‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’
‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘
‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’
‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.
‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’
Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.
What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.
Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.
You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.
But it was so, so beautiful.
Moving.
And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.
Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.
Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.
There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.
The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.
You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.
‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’
The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.
You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?
Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.
There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.
‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.
The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’
Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.
Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.
‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘
He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.
‘Do it again. Turn back.’
The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.
‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’
The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.
‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’
You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.
And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...
Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.
The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.
‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.
Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.
‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.
Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.
Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.
‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’
Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.
‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.
This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.
And of course, he made you blush too.
A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.
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forthehpfanboys · 4 years ago
Text
Gold Strings & Red Picks- PT 1
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.
Summary: The Weasley's invented a band! Having a band, means you need a band manager; someone to help find venues, gigs and sponsors. After finding one, Ron seems to be hopeless drawn toward them.
Warnings: flirting, swearing, bickering, sexual tension??, Punk Pining Ron but also Smug Ron, naming a guitar ‘Cherry Popper’, dm me if I missed any.
Notes: I plan on having some chapters kinda spicy. I made an entire gif for this and yes it is Rupert playing 👀 and god is this self indulgent. Hope you guys like it!
~DO NOT REPOST ANYWERE~
-
It was a Friday morning when you quit the Static Dragons and posted the news on every piece of social media you had. It didn’t take long for you to edit your bios to state you were looking for a new band, and it managed to catch someone's eye just as quickly. It was Monday evening when you got a dm on Instagram from a user called ddchrmrs-official. The user basically sent you a paragraph about how he was the lead singer of a band he and his siblings threw together and they were looking for a new manager. You agreed to meet with them and talk about the potential of the band and he agreed, using more than a few explanation marks after his reply. He even sent you a few of their songs once he deemed you worthy enough.
So, you found a dining hall, an equal distance from your house and theirs, and with the lead singer's approval, Fred, you booked it for Tuesday afternoon. Fred even made a post explaining the good news- why he was acting like one of the Weird Sisters followed him back, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t help but be excited too. The songs were good- more punk-rock than you assumed from the band's name. Something about the name Daydream Charmers gave off a softer, boyband type.
The day of the band meeting couldn’t have gone much worse. You missed your morning alarm, you couldn’t find your laptop charger and the clothes you picked out the night before ended up covered in stains from breakfast. GPS even gave you the fastest route and you still managed to be 10 minutes late, but you managed to find the right hall. It was a bit different compared to the pristine image shown on the website.
The roof looked like it was caving under an invisible weight and the actual size of the hall looked like a small barn. The walls were made of red and black bricks, most of which seemed to be chipped, broken or bending, like it was being crushed. The door frame was slanting, the door’s white paint was chipping, the sidewalk was splitting at almost every corner. You were desperately hoping the building was enchanted so it was bigger (and nicer looking) on the inside.
You parked your car on the pebble covered asphalt, right next to an equally old and rusty blue car. You had no idea how four people, a sound system, a bass, an electric guitar and a full drum set fit inside of the small wagon, but figured they managed to spell the inside bigger. You weren’t bothered by it- how could you be? You felt your wand hit your laptop inside the bag as you threw it over your shoulder after climbing out of the car. Shutting the door, you hurried up the broken concrete, shoving your keys in your pocket.
You chewed on your lip, adjusting the collar of your shirt as you approached the door. A smile pulled at your lips at the refreshing sound of genuine laughter and bickering. You had an internal battle of whether you should knock or just barge in. It sounded like they were having their fun and you didn’t want to interrupt anything. Soon enough, the laughter was dying down and someone was strumming a bass quietly, practicing a few chords from one of the songs Fred gave you. You raised a fist to knock on the door and the silence that followed was close to defining. Soft footsteps followed the silence and you swore you could hear soft breathing behind the door before it was yanked open.
“Hey! You made it! We were worried you got lost on your way here.”
You weren’t expecting to be face to chest with an individual. Their band's logo was printed across the front, red letters with a gold outline that clashed drastically with the bright orange fabric of the tight shirt. You tilted your head up, meeting cocoa brown eyes and a crisp white smile. His ginger hair was spread across his shoulders, his ear lobes were pierced with two shiny black flat stud earrings and the little white nostril piercing on the left side of his nose was reflecting the sunlight.
“Fred?” You asked, matching his smile. You could tell he had fun, you could sense it. His arm raised, inadvertently showing off his muscles, and rested against the door frame. 
“The one and only.” He grinned, clearly just joking. Before he could say anything else, he was rudely interrupted by a foreign voice behind him. Fred’s smile dropped into a frown like he was suddenly slapped across the face.
“Is it the pizza guy?” The voice asked from somewhere behind him, excitement clearer than crystal. Fred looked over his shoulder to respond.
“No, Ron. That’s not for another twelve minutes.” He rolled his eyes after looking back at you and letting out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry about him. His appetite is larger than Big Ben and it literally never stops. Anyway, I hope you like pizza! I tried to message you about it.” He pulled his phone out of his front pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through his messages and swiping right on notifications he didn’t care for.
“I was using my phone for GPS. Must’ve missed the messages.” Your hands slid into your front pockets, your weight shifting between your feet as embarrassment began to settle in. Maybe this wasn’t the best first impression. Before you could think about it too long, a low whistle was resonating from beside Fred.
Without warning, Fred was being nudged aside by a slightly shorter ginger, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours. They didn’t stay there very long though. They slowly dragged down your body, taking in your form, and his head tilted in appreciation.
“Oh.. I’m not gonna complain about the pizza when Merlin delivered us a cutie.” He gave you a dizzying side smile. “What’s your name, sweetheart? Surely, it’s something as handsome as you are.” Just as quickly as he appeared, Fred was pushing him back, faking a gag while driving the unnamed individual back with Fred’s hand against his forehead. 
“Ew! Ron, down! Seriously? Keep your yap shut! He’s our new band manager and I’d actually like to keep this one, thank you.” Fred groaned, a sneer pulling at his lips. He blocked the smaller ginger from the door with his body before turning back to you with a sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s usually not like this. Usually he’s moping about his ex-” You could see Ron jumping behind Fred to get another look at you. The reaction had you snorting into your hands.
“Fred. Fred, move, mate. I wanna see ‘im again!” The ginger whined, tugging at his older brother's t-shirt. He was dodging around Fred’s constant moving hands to get one more peek at you.
Fred let out a groan, his head falling backwards in agony before letting out a loud “George, please help!”
“Wait! Wait, wait!” Ron’s voice matched the panicked hand trying to hold onto the door frame before it was hilariously slapped off the wood and was dragged into the mystery hidden behind the lead singer. His begs and pleas began to echo and soften which you thought caused you to giggle a bit. 
“I’m sorry. We’ll put a muzzle on him or something. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Fred shifted out of the door way, allowing you to enter the hall. It was bigger on the inside than the outside, that much had you relieved. Fred shut the door behind you with a satisfying click and let you soak the place in while he sat himself down on a velvet red coach. It was dimly lit, about half the lights were on, and the walls were painted a light tan, which easily could’ve been mistaken for white, if white wasn’t used for the tiling. 
Next to Fred on the couch, was a girl with long, slightly darker, ginger hair. Her hair went well past her shoulders, and a bright orange base sat on top of her crossed legs. She had gone back to laying a few chords once you entered, just relaxing as her two brothers basically wrestled each other.
“Ginny, this is (Y/n).” Fred spoke up, pointing from his sister to you, then back to her. (Y/n), this is the youngest Weasley in the family, Ginevra.” Fred smirked, but it turned into a pained expression when she landed a hard slap to his chest.
“Except if you call me that, I will break your legs. It’s Gin or Ginny, nothing else. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/n). Fred hasn’t shut up about you.” She smiled at you, reaching a tattoo covered hand out to shake yours. 
“Really?” You couldn’t help but grin. You shook her hand proudly, knowing it was probably your reputation that kept the oldest Weasley in the band chatting up a storm. “It’s nice to meet you too, Gin.” You gave her a cheeky grin before turning to the other side of the hall, noting another Fred standing in front of Ron, who was sitting in a chair quiet grumpily. 
The double picked up a deep red guitar covered in stickers and shoved it into Ron’s lap, causing the younger to gasp out a wheeze. It was obvious he had chewed Ron out for his behavior, but nevertheless, he gave his unplugged electric guitar a few strums, which seemed to satisfy Fred 2 because soon enough he was storming back to the couch, shaking his head the entire walk there.
He sat himself down on the arm of the couch, right next to his doppelganger. His arms crossed back over his chest once again. Fred 2 had the same length hair, different piercings though. He only had one set of black earrings, but had an industrial across his left ear. He had a straight line of freckles across his cheek bones and right across his nose. The spots went down his neck and across his forehead. 
“He’s bloody useless.” He grumbled out, his snake bite moving to the right as his tongue ran across it. “Oh, hi!” Fred 2 scooted over to the edge of the arm rest, reaching his hand out to shake yours. “You must be the band manager! I’m George, Fred’s twin bro-”
“Younger twin. I’m the oldest.” Fred interrupted, smirking again as he pointed a thumb to himself. His smirk dropped when he was smacked in the chest again- by both George and Ginny. 
“I’m his twin brother. Ignore him, he has a God complex.” George rolled his eyes, smiling at you while he shook your hand. He pulled his hand away before scooting back to rest his back against the back of the couch. You could tell he wasn’t comfortable, but  he seemed dedicated to the spot. “I’m sorry you had to meet Ron the way you did. Usually he’s tamer than that.”
You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, your gaze turned down to your shoes. Your cheeks were beginning to heat up as his flirting rebounded through your head again.
“Nah, he wasn’t that bad.”
“I wasn’t?” Ron’s sudden voice behind you had nearly jumped out of your skin. You spun around, your backpack strings nearly catching on one of Ginny’s bass strings. You swallowed down a squeak. “Georgie was trying to convince me I was being inconsiderate and rude and that mum would smack me if she saw.” He was still holding the guitar by the neck, and that was when you noticed the bright gold strings with a red pick trapped between them.
“Well, it’s not like you were asking about my shoe size… “ Your eyes landed on the hands holding the black neck of the instrument and you couldn’t help but gawk at them. Rings covered his finger knuckles, veins popped out from beneath his skin. “Wow.” You didn’t mean to verbally gawk over the hands, so you had to force your gaze down to the instrument and ignore the urge to stare at the pale, freckle covered skin that was making your mouth dry. 
You shook your head, looking at the shiny strings. You had you stop yourself from reaching out and caressing the polished neck, the textures strings and hidden pick. It was clearly loved and carefully taken care of.
“Beauty, isn't she?” Ron grinned, showing off the red body drowning in decals- most of which were bright orange Quidditch themed or terrible chess puns. You almost forgot to check if they were a muggle band, but this told you enough. “My best friend got it for me, he’s a blessing. Mum didn’t approve, of course, said we all had better purposes, but dad said rock on.” 
“She really is. I’m guessing you named her?” The second the question fell from your lips, the three sharing a spot on the couch groaned in agony, but Ron was grinning in pride.
“Of course I have! Her name is Cherry Popper and she’s the love of my life. Unless,” Ron was taking a step closer to you, a twinkle in his eyes as he continued speaking, “you plan on cha-” His flirting was cut off suddenly.
“And that’s enough of that! Please sit down and, for the love of Merlin’s beard, rename the damn thing!” Ginny cried out, almost knocking her own instrument straight into the tiled floor. She ran a hand through her hair, her free hand holding the bass hard enough to make her knuckles pure white.
“I mean, come on! Name it something classic like ‘Bertha’ or ‘Jasmine’, or, and here’s my personal favorite, don’t name it at all!” Fred waved his hands while he spoke, counting the names on his fingers before doing jazz hands at ‘don’t name it at all’.
“Fred, that’s hypocritical. You named your mic.” George spoke up, pulling two white marble drumsticks from his jeans pockets and began to spin one between his fingers. 
“That was a joke.” Fred stuck his tongue out at his twin. “At least I don’t do it seriously. And leave Echo out of this.” Fred ripped the non spinning drumstick from George’s hand, holding it out of his twins reach.
“Shut up and give me Crystal back!”
“No, if you wanna talk about terrible names, we can talk about the band's name! Merlin, Fred, were you sky high when you made it?” Ron shot back, his arms crossing over his chest, one still holding the guitar.
Knowing this kind of fight could go for a good while, you slipped past him, patting Ron on the shoulder while you walked past while a pained gasp rented the silence that flooded the hall. You set your backpack on the white table, opening the zipper and pulling out your laptop. You sat down, pulling the laptop onto your lap before opening the notepad application.
“I made the name! And dammit, I think it was clever! It even has a unique backstory! At our school, we had a um- small business and it was quite successful. By ‘we’, I mean George and I and by successful, I mean we run an online joke shop. I thought it fit the shop pretty well.” Fred held a look of pride- a smirk was, once again, drawn across his lips as his eyes twinkled.
“Mate, it’s horrible.” Ginny spoke up, not even bothering to throw the truth as a curve-ball causing two of her older brothers to nod in agreement. She copied Fred’s movement by yanking the drumstick from his hand, but handed it to George, smiling at him. 
“Why couldn’t it have been something cool? You named your shop something cool. Why’d you give the band something’ shitty?” Ron rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the door, the guitar balancing on his sneakers and leaning against his ripped jean covered legs. His attention didn’t stay with his siblings for long. Soon it was shifting over to you, like he was naturally drawn toward you. He grinned at you, sticking his tongue out. The little gold ball stamped into the middle of his tongue had your full attention.
You swallowed thickly. The ball and his guitar strings were the exact same color and reflected the same light. You felt butterflies fill your stomach from the simple action and noticed, almost suddenly, the ginger was actually quite attractive and funny. You sucked on your tongue, hoping the blush across your cheeks didn’t give too much away. Ron looked back at his brothers, his side grin screaming he basically saw your body temperature rise.
“I was led to believe you all loved the name, but no! I’m starting to think you guys are just trying to embarrass me in front of the (Y/n), but since you think it’s so easy, come up with a new one.” Fred cried out, crossing his arms over the printed long sleeve t-shirt, and was pouting like a child now, sinking lower into the couch.
“It makes us sound like a cheesy boy-band going after 12 year olds.” Ginny scoffed, propping her bass up against the couch. She looked over at her slightly older brother, nodding her head in Fred’s direction.
“It does. We could’ve been Fire Wicks.” Ron pointed at Ginny and the teaming up began. “Or like Solar Skips.”
“Or The Red Bloods.” Gin nodded, pointing back at Ron while her other hand pulled out her phone. The game was ‘Who-Cares-If-It’s-Bad-Let’s-Prove-Fred-Wrong’ and you could tell it was for shits and giggles. You were going to pitch in an idea, but someone beat you to it.
“Or FireBolt Bitters.” Spoke up George, who was now gazing up at the ceiling, shaking his head in mock shame, but you could see the edges of his smile growing at the corners.
“Ooh, I love that one!” Ron leaned over, stretching his arm as far as it could to give  George a high five, before turning to look at you. He grinned at your confused expression. “Are you writing these down?” He pointed at your computer before giving you a wink. The butterflies came back, doubled in strength, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head no, laughing louder when he waved his hands in a panicked manner. “Write them down, mate!”
You rolled your eyes, typing random shit down just to please the younger one. Your eyes trailed across the dumplings, noting three quarters of them were smiling. Fred’s crabby expression made it was clear he didn’t get picked on very often.
“Charlie texted saying ‘The Copper Horntails’ would’ve been better.” Ginny said, looking up from her phone. She dropped the phone onto her lap, wincing a tad when the device collided with the instrument on her lap. She quickly forgot the pain and leaned back, enjoying her brother's pain.
“You asked Charlie?!” Fred squealed loudly, his hands holding his head. Right beside Fred, George had begun to tap his sticks together, improvising a beat to go with the arguing.
“You know what? That’s a great idea! Let’s ask Percy next-” yelled Ron over Ginny’s laughter and Fred’s agonizing scream. His smirk only grew when Fred tossed his head back. 
“Ok, damn! I get it! But I already made t-shirts so deal with it.”
“Fred, we have magic. We can always change the print.” George piped up, tapping the white wooden sticks against his thighs in some random pattern, his head nodding to a beat. He shrugged his shoulders, not focusing on his words all that much,
“George!” This time it was Fred’s turn to smack George in his chest. He glared at him before leaning over to whisper in his twin's ear. It was something you couldn’t make out, but you figured they were debating over your status. You rolled your eyes, reaching behind you.
With a clear of your throat, you gained their attention before pulling out your wand from your backpack. While waving it, you locked eyes with Ron, playfully chewing on your lip to try to hide your smile.
“But-” Fred scrambled to grab his phone. You knew he was going to pull up one of your profiles to show none of them mentioned magic or wizarding or anything.
“The quidditch stickers were a dead give away.” You pointed to Ron’s guitar with the tip of your wand before putting it back in your bag. “That, and the tiny blue car that somehow carried four band members, and all of their equipment even though, that should’ve been impossible. I do enjoy Firebolt Bitters, though.”
Your own smile grew when the siblings broke out into loud snorts and sniggers, save for Fred’s. Ron walked over to you, and you were sure his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling. He laid his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he faced his band members.
“I like this one.”
A smile stretches across your face as your cheeks get warmer. Out of everything to come out of today, this was something even the strongest and most willed seer’s couldn’t have predicted. It wasn’t even half past noon and you’d already started to develop a crush on a punk guitarist who shares a band with his siblings. You were clueless on how you were going to do your managing and keep it strictly platonic when he grinned at you like you were everything he wanted.
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teruthecreator · 3 years ago
Text
sweet surprises
lord forgive me for the cringe i’m about to post. i fully blame this post and this post for planting the seeds of berdley having a crush on kris in my brain. also shouts out to izel for listening to me go insane at 3 AM about this. 
anyways, here’s a thing. 
______________________________________________________________
Excitement is in the air.
Unlike the usual calm monotony of life at school, things recently have been quite...electric. Not because of the portal to the Dark World hidden behind the door of the closet, or the adventures had by a select group of students through the portal in the Librarby a few days ago. No, this isn’t about that.
This is about the Sadie Hawkman’s Dance. The once-a-year phenomenon where the school puts on its best interpretation of a formal dance for the incredibly small number of students who attend class. Students buzz in excitement for the event, preparing their most formal outfits and getting ready to dazzle their friends and fellow classmates with their dramatic entrances into the auditorium.
And, of course, there’s the all important ritual of asking someone to the dance.
There’s already been a few proposals made this week. Jockington rolled into class like a hula hoop and asked Catti to be his “best bro” for the dance, to which she happily agreed. (And by that, I mean she looked up from her phone, smiled, said not a single word, and went back to typing.) Temmie loudly announced to the class that she would be taking her egg, which was somehow...embarrassed that she mentioned it. And, of course, Noelle finally managed to work up enough courage to ask Susie to the dance. It was done in an incredible display of candy canes that spelled out the phrase: “CAN(E) YOU BE MY DATE TO THE DANCE?” Unfortunately, Susie was about halfway through scarfing the display down before she realized what it said. She then began choking on one of the candy canes out of disbelief, which wound her in the nurse for the rest of the day. But, when she could speak again, she very quietly agreed to Noelle’s proposal (and, if you happened to be a fly on the wall in that room, you could hear a tail thump rhythmically against the doctor’s bench as she did so).
Kris was pleased with everything. They were happy to see their friends so happy together. A long time coming, if you asked them. And they’d be just as happy attending the dance solo, since they’ll undoubtedly be dragged along by Susie. They’d never gone to the dance before--never had a reason to, truth be told. But with their newfound friends, they may just enjoy being a wingman for the night.
...Speaking of wingmen, Berdly will probably be going solo as well. Unsurprising, but Kris makes a mental note to ensure the bird will be in attendance. As much as he is kind of a lot sometimes, he’s their friend. And Kris is going to make sure all of their friends are having fun at that dance!
They walk into class thinking of this (surprisingly early, for a change), which is why they almost miss the massive display sitting boldly atop their desk. They freeze the instant it catches their eye and, for a second, they almost believe it isn’t real. Like some leftover thoughts of the Dark World lingering in their vision. But, after wiping their eyes and seeing that it’s still there, they decide to approach and...investigate.
The display is expertly crafted by someone who clearly knows their way around a glue gun. It is a heart-shaped arch that is decorated with a myriad of printed illustrations of Super Smashing Fighters Melee characters, all having cut-outs to hold different bars of chocolate. There are also numerous origami hearts glued around the characters on the arch, in colors spanning across the rainbow. The arch is painted in swirls of blues, pinks, and reds and covered with a border of glitter that sprinkles onto the desk when Kris reaches out to pluck a chocolate bar from its perch. On the desk itself is a big origami heart that says “TO KRIS” in gold calligraphy. It is by far one of the coolest, nicest, cheesiest things Kris has ever seen.
They look up from the display to see if anyone else is seeing this shit, and that’s when it all clicks.
Because sitting at the front of the classroom, fidgeting way more than normal, is Berdly. He keeps interlocking his ankles underneath his desk before unlocking them and kicking the air, turning around every half-second or so to try and catch Kris’s reaction. From the brief moments Kris can see the front of him, they notice he’s not in his usual white collared shirt and black khaki shorts. Instead, his shirt is buttoned all the way up, with a nice blue bowtie tied around his neck. He also traded out his khaki shorts for a pair of dress pants that look to be a tad too long for his legs. He keeps reaching up to smooth out the feathers on his head, which immediately stick back up from stress.
Now, Kris may be a straight B student, but they’re not stupid. Context clues are a very good thing, and all signs point to Berdly as the culprit of this public display of...affection?
Beyond Berdly is Ms. Alphys at her desk, who shoots Kris a look of deep understanding and maybe...guilt? She looks at Berdly for a split second and shrugs her shoulders, indicating he was probably in here long before she was and so she had no way of stopping him from leaving it there.
Kris looks back down at the display and picks up the large origami heart. As they begin to unfold it, they see a sprawling letter written in the same flashy calligraphy. Kris squints at the letters--they’re dyslexic, so everything kind of just looks like spaghetti on paper. Still, they’re able to make out the largely printed question of “WILL YOU GO TO THE DANCE WITH ME?” with no issue.
Huh, guess they won’t be going to the dance alone after all…? It’s a little confusing as to why Berdly would want to go with them, though. Like, they’ve hung out a little bit--usually whenever Berdly wanted a “worthy rival” to play video games with, he would come over and Kris would whoop his ass for a few hours. And, of course, there were the recent events in the Cyber World; but Kris is pretty sure them and Susie had thoroughly convinced Noelle and Berdley that that was all a dream. So, why them?
They’re lost in this train of thought for so long that they don’t even notice the other kids enter the room until they suddenly hear:
“Yo, Kris???????? What the heck is this thing????” Susie’s voice doesn’t startle them, but it is loud enough to get them to look up. Susie is standing next to their desk, looking at the display with genuine amazement thinly masked by disgust. She’s also loud enough to basically stop the whole class (who were all muttering amongst themselves about it anyway), which gives Kris only a second to gaze around the room before--
SLAM!
The door to the classroom slams shut, leaving one seat unoccupied.
Berdley’s.
“This thing’s got chocolate on it????” Susie continues to marvel at the display while Kris looks at the door, frowning. They feel...bad. It isn’t Berdley’s fault for trying to fit in with the other kids' proposals; he admitted to feeling like he needs to do more just to stand out enough for people to acknowledge him back in the Dark World. And this thing is really...thoughtful! The characters are all ones Kris typically mains, or ones they know Berdley mains, which means he remembers things about Kris. And the chocolate is a given, but it is nice to be able to stock their personal snack stash with some fancy stuff. Ultimately, it’s very sweet, and Kris can’t help but feel a little guilty for not saying anything immediately.
They turn and lock eyes with Ms. Alphys, who looks extremely out-of-depth with this situation. She makes a number of gestures from them to the door in a flustered way of saying I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on please help me Kris I know I’m asking a lot of you but I don’t know how to deal with teenage angst I’m like thirty-five. They sigh, standing up and walking past Susie (but not before giving her a stare that warns her if a single chocolate bar is gone that they will be holding that over her until the day she dies) and following Berdly out the door.
It doesn’t take Kris very long to follow the trail of labored breathing to where Berdley is--in the abandoned classroom, hyperventilating as he teeters on a breakdown. Luckily, when Kris opens the door, it seems to put a halt to his spiralling because he just kind of...freezes. Like a deer caught in headlights. Or a Berdley caught in Kris-lights. Kris takes this moment to let the door shut behind them, trapping the two in here. Together.
“U-Uhhhhh, hi--he--Um. H-Hello, K-Kris…” Berdly attempts to put on his usual bravado, but his voice betrays him brutally by squeaking and cracking on every syllable. Kris can’t help the smile that comes to their face.
“Uh, hey,” they reply with a wave. Berdley continues to stand there and stare (almost like he wasn’t expecting Kris to care enough to follow him) before the present circumstances return to his mind and he begins breathing hard again.
“I-I-I-I, uh...I was. Um. J-Just, uh. G-Getting some fresh air! Y-Yes! The classroom can be s-so stuffy sometimes, I’m sure y-you--you, uh...you agree?” Berdley makes a valiant attempt at hiding his panic, which Kris almost takes pity on. But they don’t think the monster will feel any better if they just pretend what happened back there never happened.
“Yeah. I liked the display.” Kris says simply. Berdley stands stock-straight at that, looking even worse for wear in the “being normal and completely cool” department.
“O-Oh??????? That ol’ thing????? I, um--well I just--y-you see, I--uh. Um,” You can really hear the gears in his head turning as he attempts to come up with an excuse. “I-I-I just thought you w-would appreciate the craftsmanship of!!! A t-true artisan, such as myself!!! So, I!!! M-Made it!!! COMPLETELY PLATONICALLY, OF COURSE!!!! I-I would never imply that my intentions w-were anything other than for bro-sies, i--You didn’t read that whole card, did you?”
“I can’t read,” They mean this as a joke, but they can see Berdley seriously consider this for a second too long. “Dude, I’m dsylexic. I can’t really read cursive…” Berdley freezes up once more, which makes Kris realize they haven’t really projected that as loudly as they might’ve thought.
“Oh! Right! How could I forget! That you’re! Dsylexic!” Berdley’s smile is stapled to his face as he begins to rhythmically knock on his head. “And I! Wrote! That! Entire! Note! In! Cursive! Which! You! Can’t! Read!!!” Kris steps forward in an attempt to keep Berdley from bashing his own skull in, but that only makes Berdley more tense, so they take a step back. “I-I just--The note isn’t important! None of it’s important actually can we forget this interaction ever happened okay? Okay yes that’s great have a wonderful day Kris I will be returning home to sitinmyroomandneverreturntothecorporealrealmalrightgoodbyeforeverKris--” He attempts to sidestep around Kris and out the door, but is very easily intercepted.
“Stop.” Kris grabs him by the shoulders, which seems to shut him up for a second. “Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” Berdley gapes at them as his face steadily grows redder, which makes Kris feel as if there’s something on their face. But he quickly shakes it off, going from completely neurotic to...dejected.
“I just…” He starts, trailing off immediately. “You deserve to have a big proposal, same as everyone else. I-I see you in the back of the class, just...watching. And I, uh, felt it was time to...give you the spotlight! But that was silly of me, wasn’t it?” He looks off to the side at the floor, smiling sadly. “After all, who’d want to go to the dance with me…? I-I’m alone every year, standing in the background. Just kind of...taking it all in...and th-thinking about how it’d be...nice to be a part of it. But that’s...not probable. It was just nice to think about taking you to the dance because you’re--well, you’re nice to me, and you’re funny, and you actually listen to me when I’m talking, an-and you’re a good person and an incredible gaming legend...but I shouldn’t have put it all on you in front of everyone...I’m. I’m sorry, Kris.” He won’t make eye contact with the human, but Kris can still see the tears collecting in his eyes.
“Berdley, that’s stupid.” Kris says, which Berdley cringes at, “Why wouldn’t I wanna go with you?” That part is...not what Berdley was expecting. He looks up at Kris, unsure of where to go from here.
“U-Um…? Because of all the previously stated things? Like me being a complete loser who nobody likes?”
“I like you,” Kris replies immediately, leaving Berdley’s feathers sticking straight up as he flusters. “And I like your display. It’s...really sweet.”
“E-Even if you can’t read the note?” Berdley’s voice cracks.
“I mean, I could read the: WILL YOU GO WITH ME TO THE DANCE part, so, like. Yeah.” Kris shrugs. “Plus, you got me chocolate. Nice chocolate. Nobody...gets me things like that.” They smile, a light dusting of blush across their face. “I’ll go with you.” Berdley’s entire body seizes up for the third time, eyes wide and mouth agape.
“W-W-w-W-w-w-w-w-W-W-W-w-w-w-Wh-Wha-wh-w-w-wha-wha-w-wh-Wh-Wha-wh-Wha-wha-w-w-W-W-W--” Berdley continues to struggle with the word “what” for a solid minute and a half before he’s finally about to manage a: “What?!” Kris can’t help but laugh.
“I said that, Berdley,” at this, they move their grip from his shoulders to his hands, “I will go to the Sadie Hawkman’s dance with you.”
The circuits in Berdley’s brain struggle with this frequency for an extended moment before his face erupts in the giddiest smile Kris has ever seen the bird monster sport. He even begins to jump up and down, taking Kris along with him, as he cackles. It is a surprisingly cute display that Kris finds themselves blushing a bit at. It’s nice to be this...cared about.
“I-I--We have to start thinking of outfits immediately!” Berdley blurts out, returning to their usual demeanor. “I was thinking of some complimentary color schemes on the way to school today which I will be happy to show you at lunchtime. I’m also a master with a sewing machine, so if you are unable to procure an outfit that meets the color requirements, I would be delighted to take your measurements and--w-wait, don’t read into that phrasing, I just m-meant that I could make an outfit for you! B-But I’d need your measurements, and--Oh, goodness, hasn’t class started already, Kris?! We should head back, but--” He looks from the door to Kris and back again a few times before finally settling on something.
“I’lltalktoyouaboutthislaterseeyouinclassKris!!!!!” He says this right before he gives Kris a solitary peck on the cheek before bolting out of the abandoned classroom, leaving Kris blinking at the Berdley-shaped cloud he left behind. Their hand gently grazes the spot on their cheek--luckily not actually pecked by his beak, but more of a quick-kiss kind of peck--and feel their heart skip a beat.
Huh.
That’s...different.
They elect to not dwell on that feeling any longer and head back to class. They have to make sure Susie hasn’t eaten all of the chocolate on that display.
They wouldn’t want to make Berdley go through the trouble of re-proposing  just so they could rightfully claim their other sweet surprise.
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