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illbegottenfaith · 3 months ago

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maybe stay here forever (inspired by packing it up by gracie abrams)

the holidays have you feeling sentimental over yours and theo's relationship (theo nott x reader)

a/n - 100 followers in a little over a month is very much insane for me, and like any other writer I rlly appreciate every interaction with my fics <3 also im trying to work on making mutuals (esp with other writers!) but man it does NOT help that im so incurably shy, anyways enjoy!!

tropes/warnings - tw descriptions of grief and anxiety, established relationship, domestic bliss, more angst than I anticipated, an outtake ft. petty!theo throwing down with a 13-year-old

word count - 2.6k

"Y/N! PHONE!”

You placed your butterbeer down with a thunk, weaving your way from your table to the telephone at the counter. Your friend Ivy handed it to you before disappearing into the crowd. You knew who it was even before pressing your ear to the receiver.

“This is highly illegal, as you very well know,” you said breathlessly. "Randy hates anyone using his phone."

“Relax. Ivy said he's gone into the back.”

Even through a telephone line, your boyfriend's voice gave you a giddy sort of thrill. Still, you glanced at the back door anxiously. “For now. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to hear you sound deliciously panicky.”

“Unbelievable. I’m risking being banned from Hogsmeade’s only pub for nothing?”

“What’s the point of having a girlfriend,” Theo wanted to know, “if she won’t enable your illegal endeavours?”

You rolled your eyes. “So, did you manage a game between the four of you?”

“Eh. It was…something. I’m not sure if anyone would call it Quidditch, though.”

“Oh?”

“You should join us next time. The flying, screaming - you’d love it.”

"Rude." The one time Theo had managed to wheedle you into at least trying to play Quidditch with him and some of your friends had not ended very well for you. In your defense, heading straight for the ground sounded like a much safer option than waiting around to be hit by a Bludger.

“You’re still watching the back door, aren’t you?”

You stiffened, eyes sweeping across the crowded pub. He wasn’t here, was he? He did love messing with you. You shook yourself. Of course not, you were using the only telephone in the vicinity. “Am not,” you sniffed injuredly. "Anyway, what are you up to now?"

"I'm about to go down to the shops to run your errands. What did you need, again?"

"Butterbeer fla - are you writing this down?"

"No need, I'll remember."

You frowned. "Teddy, you always say that, and you always forget something."

"Not this time. Shoot."

You huffed. With how aggravating Theo could be, he was lucky he had such a pretty face. "Butterbeer flavoured popcorn, for the popcorn garlands. If they only have regular, don't bother, I have bags and bags of those. New Christmas lights, because one of the bulbs blew out. Wrapping paper, someone's bound to need it. Hm, what else...that disgusting peppermint tea you love - "

"I don't love peppermint tea. It's...it's not bad, that's all."

"Fibber. You cleaned us out last year."

"And I'll do it again if you keep throwing around these unlawful accusations."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, listen - bring Mattheo along with you, will you?"

Having just broken up with his girlfriend, Matteo's Christmas plans fell through at the last minute. You couldn't help it was in your nature to worry. You heard the distant rustle of parchment crackle over the phone. Ah - ha, fibber indeed. "Alright, but for the last time, he's doing perfectly fine on his own." You heard him folding the list up. "He's a grown man, Y/N."

Your tone turned reproachful. "It's the holidays. No one should have to spend the holidays alone, remember?"

"Don't you have your own friends to fret over?"

"They're all going home. You only have yourself to blame for being within arm's reach, you know."

"If I'd known you were going to be this meddlesome I'd have stayed far, far away."

"Please. Like you could have resisted my charms."

You could imagine the teasing look he'd be giving you.

"Speaking of charms, how does a charm bracelet sound? Would you like that?"

You sighed. For some reason, you were having a particularly difficult time thinking of something to ask for this Christmas. You kept putting it off, and now it was less than two weeks away. Theo was doing his best to help, though it did get a bit grating when he'd point out every item in a shop one by one.

"I still don't know," you said helplessly. "Rain-check? Again?"

"Fine. But you don't have much time left." You heard him unfolding the list. "So, for today, butterbeer flavoured popcorn, Christmas lights, wrapping paper and peppermint tea?"

"Yep. Thanks, Teddy."

"Anything for you, doll." Theo cleared his throat and dropped his voice a couple of pitches.

"So what are the odds I can convince you to wear that green little number to tonight's party?"

You grinned at the pub counter flirtatiously. "I don't know. How badly do you want to see me in it?"

Theo groaned. "Going to make me beg for it, baby?"

"In a manner of speaking." You glanced back at the back door, just in case. "Haven't you learned? Sweet-talking will get you everywhere with me." Your eyes drifted to your table, where Ivy was impatiently waving you over. "Damn. I have to go. Ivy looks like she's about to have a coronary."

"Wearthedre-"

You wore the dress. You could be cruel, but not that cruel. It was a cosy sort of party, with friends and friends of friends milling around. You were sitting in Theo's lap on one of the couches, the two of you trying to talk over the music.

" - and so I said to Ivy, if he can't be bothered to even say hi when there's other people around, then that shows how little respect he has for you, and he'll only get worse the more you let him get away with it, and - and I'm rambling."

Theo's mouth quirked into that special smile he reserved just for you. "Only a little. It's very becoming, if that's what you're worried about."

"Yeah, right."

"It is, but only because it's coming from you."

You fiddled with Theo's hair, trying to fix a cowlick of his. "So what did you do today?"

"We got the popcorn, the tea, the wrapping paper. Matteo got a little too excited with the lights."

You raised your eyebrows. "Do tell."

"Mind you, he's never shopped for anything in his life. He has house elves for that."

"Kind of like you when we first met," you teased lightly.

"I don't think he was expecting so many options. He kept winding each type around his limbs to compare. I think the insulation was faulty on one of them so he got a mild electrical shock."

You gasped. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, as far as I could tell. I think he kind of liked it, to be honest."

"Of course he did." You wrinkled your nose. "Then what did you do?"

"Freed him, obviously."

"And then?"

"Then we got the same lights we always do."

"And then?"

Theo shook his head, bemused, and tugged at a lock of your hair. "And then nothing. And then we left. And then I changed and came straight up to the party to find my nuisance of a girlfriend."

You laughed. Theo wasn't being particularly funny, but it was hot and your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you were high off the thrill that came with being perfectly in sync with your favourite person. In short, you were too buzzed to care. You were flushed, either from the alcohol or the feel of Theo's hand steadily creeping up your thigh.

"I have some bad news, though."

You sat up and scowled. "What?"

"I couldn't get us out of my family's Christmas dinner."

You groaned. You had half a mind to drown Theo in what was left of your drink.

"C'mon, Y/N," he cajoled, "iwe'll only be there a couple of days. Tis the season of giving."

"Sure, I'll give them a push down the stairs."

Theo stifled a snort and plucked the drink out of your hand. "Okay, that's enough punch for you. Speaking of..." He glanced somewhere behind you, sitting up a little and, frustratingly, pulled his hand off your thigh. "The punch bowl might need refilling."

"Don't," you whined, dragging his hand back to where it was a moment ago. "Let Enzo do it. We don't get to see enough of each other as it is."

Theo sighed. "So you're just never going to let me leave?"

"I can't help it," you said, "I like the way you speak. I love hearing you talk." You rested your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering close. "Promise you'll never quit talking to me."

"Done," he murmured against your lips, a hand sliding to the small of your back.

Hours later, you felt yourself stirring. It was the middle of the night, long after the two of you had gone to bed. You regretfully peeled your eyes open, trying to figure out what had woken you up.

Theo was lying next to you. It took a few more blinks to see that he was breathing harder than normal, the moonlight filtering through the window casting a sickly pallor on his face. His breathing quickened till it bordered on hyperventilating, a restlessness spreading through his body as he uselessly clenched at the sheets.

The first night you had witnessed this, you had gone absolutely ballistic. You thought he was having a seizure. After an awkward conversation between a highly uncomfortable Theo and a panic-stricken you, you learned that it wasn't its first, or last, occurrence.

They weren't nightmares, exactly. If they were, Theo would forget them by the time he was shaken awake, and only the residual tremour in his limbs would be left. They were more akin to bouts of subconscious panic and despair surfacing from the recesses of his mind. Some nights, he recovered quickly, falling back to sleep in under an hour. Other nights, you'd hear him creep out of the room so as not to wake you while he whiled away the hours to dawn.

As hard as Theo tried, bless him, he struggled to put an explanation for these attacks into words. You guessed that it might have something to do with the sudden, unexpected departure of certain loved ones from his life after one mildly confusing fight. You had slipped out of bed early one morning, while Theo was still asleep, to get a headstart on your work for the day. A couple of hours later, when he found you in the Slytherin common room and immediately started going off on you, still in his pajamas, you found out how much waking up in an empty bed freaked Theo out.

Now, you shoved Theo hard on the shoulder. His eyes flew open, anxiously twitchy, as his breathing started slowing down. Still half-asleep, you snuggled up to him, pressing an ear to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding under his T-shirt. After a moment or so, once he'd recovered from the shock, he tentatively wrapped his arms around you.

You squeezed an arm around him as well. "'M here," you mumbled into his shirt. You could feel him taking deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down as he distractedly stroked your hair. Slowly, bit by bit, you felt him relax around you as you started to doze off. There the both of you stayed, a tangle of limbs, till the morning.

one year ago

You were sitting in the Astronomy Tower one chilly autumn night, having escaped from the party your friends had dragged you to. The holidays had just begun, and in the coming days, most people would be going home or carrying out their respective plans. Most people didn't include you. This year, more than anything, you wanted to be alone. Your friends assumed you were going home for the holidays, and your family assumed you were spending them with your friends at Hogwarts, and to be completely honest, you didn’t see the need to correct either of them.

You looked up, straining your ears as you heard disembodied footsteps approaching you. A minute later, Theodore Nott emerged from the shadows.

“Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head as Theo settled with his back against a pillar, stretching one overly-long leg towards you while bending the other. You had seen him at the party for the first fifteen minutes you were there. He looked delightfully comfortable in a loose, casual denim button-down. It felt a little odd to think of him as an acquaintance when you saw him nearly weekly while your other friends caught up. But at the same time, there was a tinge of awkwardness in the silence stretching out between the two of you. You weren’t even sure if he knew your name. Now, he was pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jean pocket.

“Is it okay if I -?”

You shrugged wordlessly, still in a bit of a daze. As far as you could remember, you had never been in a one-on-one setting with Theo. It wasn’t that you avoided each other; it just never came to it. You had plenty of mutual friends acting as a buffer between you two.

All you knew about him was that your families’ tax brackets were far apart enough to mean you’d likely never see him again after Hogwarts. And after getting bruised and beaten by one too many failed relationships, you were kind of over trying to reach out or connect with new people.

And so Theodore's familial prestige was all you took note of. That, you thought as you watched him sigh in relief after the first drag of his cigarette, and his mildly concerning nicotine addiction.

You risked a sidelong glance at him to find him unabashedly looking right at you. But with him sitting perpendicular to you, you were in his direct eye line. Where else was he supposed to look? Literally anywhere else, you wished, as you returned his gaze with an awkward half-smile.

“So, Y/N,” Theo was saying, tapping ash off his cigarette. So he did know your name. You decided then that you were right - you had never been in such an intimate capacity with him before. After all, you weren’t one to forget someone saying your name like…like that. Like he harboured some secret fascination with it, from the way he let it linger on his tongue. “Any special holiday plans?”

You shook your head wordlessly. Theo gave a slight frown.

“You do speak, don’t you?”

You scoffed. “…yes. Obviously.” He’d seen you talk in front of him. Maybe not to him, but he knew you could speak perfectly fine. Your tongue currently feeling like cardboard was an entirely separate mystery.

“Going home?”

You hesitated. Theo was neither friend nor family, but for some inexplicable reason, that made it all the more difficult to lie to him. You blamed it on the smoke, it must have been making you nauseous. That, or his relentlessly demanding stare.

“I only ask because Ivy mentioned you were.”

You gave him a look, mildly peeved. If he already knew, what was he prodding around for? The cooler, more rational part of your mind pointed out that he might just have been trying to make polite conversation, and that a normal person who didn’t keep secrets like you wouldn’t be having this kind of a reaction.

“Yeah. I leave…soon.” Not for the holidays, though.

“That’s funny,” Theo continued pleasantly, “because I heard you mention to Matteo that you were staying here with the girls.”

You froze. Crap. How were you going to explain your way out of this one?

“So?” You couldn’t keep the defensive edge out of your voice. Maybe if you acted confident enough, he wouldn’t realise anything was amiss.

“So…you’re lying to someone.” He tapped his cigarette again, irritatingly casual, as if you were only discussing the weather.

“Why are you so interested in my holiday plans anyway?” you asked crossly, pulling your cardigan tighter around you as a chilly breeze started picking up.

Theo raised his eyebrows. He had the gall to look thrown off, as if he wasn’t the one pursuing the topic.

“People don’t normally lie about their holiday plans. You do realise that, right?”

Oddly enough, something in his tone made you feel embarrassed over being caught in a lie. Scratch that, it was embarrassing to have Theodore Nott catch you in a lie. What for, anyway? He was hardly the most honest person himself. Probably. You felt the back of your neck heat up. You desperately wished he would look away.

“What’s it to you?”

Theo opened his mouth before closing it again. He stewed in his thoughts for a minute while his jaw worked, as if he were trying to find the right words.

“You shouldn’t be alone on the holidays.”

You worried your bottom lip. Was this…concern?

“Maybe I want to be alone.”

“Do you?”

His otherwise dead eyes looked so inquisitive - so piercing yet unnervingly honest for someone as prone to manipulation as him. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to those eyes. You dropped your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

“It’s complicated.”

“So explain.”

You laughed humourlessly. “They wouldn’t understand.”

You watched the shadows on the tower’s floor shift. You looked up to see Theo finishing off his cigarette as he moved to join you, looking out at the same Hogwarts grounds you were facing. It seemed to make it easier, this pseudo-confession, without the brunt of his needling stare.

Here was someone you didn’t feel the urge to explain yourself to. You felt…less alone. Like you finally had someone unequivocally on your side. It had been a long time since you felt that way.

Even with the slight distance between you, you could feel the body heat he radiated. You leaned towards him slightly, but you told yourself it was only because he was blocking the wind and you were sick of shivering. Perhaps you weren’t as subtle as you would have liked, because he stretched an arm around you, running his hand up and down your arm to warm you up as you sank into his heat gratefully. You didn’t have the heart to pull away. You didn’t want to pull away.

“You could explain it to me, you know.” Theo glanced down to where you were resting your head on his shoulder. “If you wanted.”

You toyed with the idea. So, basically, I’m sick of every relationship I’ve been in falling flat, and lately I’ve been feeling like even my friends don’t understand me, so you’ve caught me just as I’m giving up on it - love, that is, romantic or otherwise. You pulled a face. It sounded far too melodramatic even in your own head. Still, you tried.

“Have you ever felt like…giving up?” Theo’s brow furrowed even more. “No, not - I’m not suicidal. Just…when everything gets too exhausting, and reaching out just feels so…”

“Once.”

You hesitated. You weren’t expecting him to agree. Sympathise, maybe.

“After my mother died.”

“…oh.”

Could you sound any more stupid? But you couldn’t help it - in a group of friends who regularly made cracks at each other’s Death Eater fathers, Theo’s mother was a strictly off-limits topic.

"It was a couple of years back." Theo's voice sounded different now; blithe and almost aggressively neutral. "In front of me. I didn't realise until it was too late, but she was my best friend." He paused, idly tracing the lines on his palm, but you got the distinct impression that he was trying very hard to discuss something that was very difficult to talk about.

“I was -“ he broke off with a sharp bark of laughter that sounded as painful as it was unexpected. “I was angry, actually. Fucking livid. Angry at my dad, for being such a piece of shit. Angry at myself, for every time I thought I was too cool to spend time with her. Angry at her because…because it was too soon, and she was all I had. And she knew that.”

Theo had a white knuckle grip on the edge of the tower’s floor, looking dangerously close to trembling. Every ridge in his face stood taut with the ache of poorly healed emotional wounds. “She knew it. She fucking knew it.”

You placed a hand over his. He drummed his fingers restlessly against the floor, and you could feel the agitation seeping out of him as his breathing evened out.

“How did you get over it? The anger?”

Theo gave you a strange, almost pitying look.

“I’m angry nearly every day of my life, Y/N.”

He sighed and dropped his head, finally leaning into you as well, his hand drifting innocently along your arm as he talked, as if you were old friends. “But if Matteo and the others have drilled anything in my head over the years, it’s that isolating yourself is the real killer.”

Your fists were clenched tightly in your lap. It was almost comforting, seeing how your body language mirrored each other's. You didn't think you would ever feel ready to do it once more, letting yourself be susceptible to heartbreak or loss, in this lifetime or the next, but perhaps...perhaps you could manage. For him. You turned slightly, burying your face into his neck and closing your eyes.

“I suppose…I could try," you started in a small voice, partially muffled by Theo's shirt. You took a deep breath in. God, his neck smelled so good. "One last time."

“Of course you can,” Theo murmured, sounding unreasonably patient. “You’re stronger than this.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

You let him keep holding you for a little while longer, just until you warmed up to the idea The quiet felt nice. Theo felt nice, in every sense of the phrase.

“I’m starting to think you didn’t come here for just a smoke break.”

"Ivy might have mentioned something," he confessed. You bit back a smile. You should have guessed. "Your friends really care about you, you know. And you've really worried them."

The bitter taste of guilt hit your jaw. You idly traced the stitching of Theo's jean's pockets. Someone else also seemed rather worried, though you weren't about to point that out.

"Have I?"

"Afraid so. You're lucky you're so precious."

Theo tapped your nose, and for the first time that evening, you grinned. After weeks of wandering in a cloud of grief, the motion felt achingly familiar. Theo returned the smile, as if you couldn't help but amuse him.

“There it is.”

“There what is?”

He looked momentarily speechless again. You frowned. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you made him as nervous as he made you.

“Nothing,” he mumbled hastily. “Can we go back down? It’s freezing up here.”

present day

"Morning."

With some difficulty, you extracted yourself from Theo's embrace. You cleared your raspy throat as you stretched out your stiff limbs.

"H'llo."

Theo leaned down to give you a peck on the lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck. As he pulled back, your hands slid to his face, then down to his shoulders. You weren't entirely sure what you were looking for. "Better?"

"Yes." You saw the sleepy bliss fading from his face. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You didn't," you lied. "I was up anyway."

Theo quirked an eyebrow interestedly. "What could a respectable girl like you be doing at three in the morning?"

You giggled softly and pulled him on top of you, and you thought he gave a rather appealing demonstration on what you might have been doing. A while later, you glanced at the clock, and saw that it was getting dangerously close to afternoon.

"We should probably get up."

"Mhm. You still need to decide what you want for Christmas, by the way."

Cold air rushed in as Theo rolled off of you, pulling his clothes on. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, still trying to figure out what to ask for. When you stepped out, feeling much more human, Theo was missing. You wandered into the empty common room where he had already set out two steaming mugs of that disgusting peppermint tea on one of the tables, complete with candy canes.

His eyebags are terrible as ever, and he's yawning, but he looks happy. Content. As content as you feel. And you think, this is all you want. For Theo to always get the cold side of his pillow, all the peppermint tea he could want, pleasant Hogsmeade trips...a real break, for once. For him to get everything that he asks for, and more.

bonus outtake

"Let's talk about something else. Anything else." Theo pulled you into his lap. "Like what an adorable elf you make."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm not sneaking you into this year's gift donation drive."

"Why not?"

You should have known this was coming. "Listen, you got yourself banned last year."

"It wasn't even my fault. You didn't even hear how snarky that guy was being. 'Oh, where's your present?' Jackass."

"The jackass was 13, Theo."

He sniffed with an injured air. "It's not like I lied to him or something, you know."

"Again, for the last time, I cannot impress enough how incredibly inappropriate it is to point out one of the helper elves as your 'present' to a 13-year-old boy."

"But you were my present. I got to unwrap you and everything afterwards."

#okay look so to explain the outtake #i had soooo many drafts and revisions of this fic like the plot changed so drastically and very frequently #the outtake is from one of the drafts/iterations #and i included it here cuz I like it so much that i know if i dont post it somewhere im not going to be able to let go of it #which means i would end up trying to force it into random fics where it does not fit just for the sake of it #hence i just thought to tack it on here ^^#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst

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puckinghischier · 5 months ago

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here’s a Quinn thought… Quinn values his friend’s opinions about his girlfriend after he introduces her to the canucks for the first time

no cause he would be soooooo excited to get to the rink the next day and (not so) subtly slide you into his conversations to see what they thought of his sweet girl.

“so, speaking of new skates, y/n was so nervous last night to meet everyone, could you tell?”

“bro, that was such a good shot. and while we’re on the subject of shots, it sure was sweet of y/n to buy everyone a round last night, wasn’t it?”

“we’re gelling so nicely together this season! which reminds me, you know who else i feel like gels really nicely with everyone? y/n.”

and of course, everyone would have nothing but positive things to say about you, loving your bubbly personality.

quinn would let out a huge sigh of relief, his teammates’ opinion of you held to only a slightly lower standard than that of his family.

and when you show up at the rink later on in the practice, two massive trays of homemade cookies for the team ‘just because’, he knew it was because you really wanted to win them over, worried about your involvement with the team as the captain’s girl.

quinn simply stood by and watched with pride as the group of grown men dropped everything they were doing to run over to you, eyes fixated on the sugary treats as you handed them out like you were serving a group rowdy toddlers, knowing that the only thing you had to do to ‘earn’ their approval was just be yourself.

#alliyaps #i think this is such a cute concept #bc we all know his team means so much to him #so of course their approval would mean the world to him #hockey #nhl #quinn hughes #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #qh43

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troyssix · 8 months ago

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NEWTMAS NEWTMAS NEWTMAS

(books)

"newt squeezed his hand tightly"

"thomas realized how much newt meant to him"

"what's up, tommy? you look bloody great for 3 in the morning"

"i knew i'd follow you anywhere. and i have" (this is just the films ik but still)

also newt only trusting thomas with the note

also the TENSION

also newt being confirmed fruity

historians say "they were great friends" THEY WERE GAY BITCHES

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saetoshi · 2 years ago

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reo is not above asking for kisses. in fact, he begs for them.

it’s a little embarrassing when you’re out in public, really. the way he tugs at your sleeve, whining because you haven’t kissed him in forever (you kissed him before you left your apartment.)

embarrassingly enough, it’s also why you find yourself hidden away in an alley more often than not with reo pressing a flurry of kisses on your lips.

“reo-” you turn your head to the side, trying to catch your breath. he only hums in response before tilting your head back to keep kissing you.

(you’re starting to think you’re going to pass out from the lack of air.)

“reo!” you hiss, tilting your head up, his lips landing on your chin before he huffs, his hand coming up again to gently push you head down so you’re facing him again.

“jus’ one more.” he mumbles, pressing his lips to yours again with a satisfied hum. (he’s said that for the past fifteen minutes.)

(you think he’s becoming spoiled.)

you pull away, turning your head to the side, biting back a smile when he whines as you place your hand over his lips. a soft, slightly annoyed huff leaves your lips when he presses a kiss to the palm of your hand.

"reo." you sigh, looking at him with a frown. "we're gonna be late."

he frowns back at you.

"nagi's gonna be even more late than us!" his voice comes out muffled due to your hand. you hum in confusion before he slowly grabs your wrist and lowers your hand, repeating his words with a pout.

you sigh, slightly shaking your head, "even if he is, i don't wanna make him wait too long for us."

reo groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder. you absentmindedly lift your hand to pat his head in slight comfort.

"do we really have to go now?" he pouts, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you.

he whines when you nod. he sniffles, "nagi's probably not even there yet!"

"doesn't matter," you hum, smiling when he huffs and crosses his arms, turning away from you with a frown as he grumbles under his breath.

you gently turn his head back to yours, a teasing smile on your lips. "i thought you'd be more excited to see your best friend?"

"i am." he pouts, "i just don't see why that means i can't kiss you."

"you can." you blink, "it's just embarrassing when you beg me to kiss you in the middle of the street."

he lets out a gasp, "no it isn't!

"for you, maybe!" you laugh, poking his nose. "wouldn't you feel embarrassed if i suddenly stopped you in the middle of a busy street, just to ask for a kiss?"

"no!" he huffs, puffing his cheeks out, looking slightly offended at the accusation, "i'd feel flattered."

you roll your eyes, "yeah, right."

he huffs again after a beat of silence, pouting before he steps back and sighs, "fine. let's get going, then."

"wait," you hum, a mischievous smile on your lips as you grab his shirt and pull him close to you again. "aren't you forgetting something?"

you laugh when his face lights up, his hands cupping your cheeks as he leans in, whispering, "one for the road."

(it was not, in fact, one kiss. he started pressing a flurry of kisses on your lips again.

he's too spoiled, you conclude. still, you can't find it in yourself to stop indulging him.)

(though, you're both embarrassed by the time nagi's spamming your phones with calls, asking why neither of you have arrived at the café yet.)

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djarinova · 1 year ago

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candles and cuddles

spencer reid x gn reader

Spencer comes home from a day out in the city and finds you feeling overwhelmed and tired, so he helps you get the rest you need to recharge yourself. content - fluff, comfort, cuddles words - 2.2k

The keyrings rattling outside in the hallway stir you from your thoughts and you smile briefly, knowing that this means Spencer will be walking through the door any second now. You can hear him struggle to get the key separate from all the keyrings, and you can’t help but feel giddy. Despite the fact that you know he likes to keep his keys fairly free and accessible, he still uses all the keyrings that you’ve gotten him from the various trips you have taken, both with and without him.

“I bought this really cool book. Come and read it with me?” Spencer asks, his voice alerting you to his presence, now inside your shared apartment.

You look up from your spot on the sofa, tilting your head to indicate your question.

“Would you like me to explain what the book is about?” His voice is gentle; in the same way a hot bath can soothe achy muscles, his voice soothes the aches in your soul.

You nod your head in response, straightening your back and stretching your legs out in front of you. You had been sitting in the same spot for the last few hours, waiting for Spencer to get back from town. He had been out shopping and had stopped for lunch somewhere with Derek, leaving you to fend for yourself at home for the afternoon. You’d managed to get a couple of the chores done from the long list you’d given yourself, but for some reason once the dusting in the lounge was completed you had found yourself almost completely devoid of motivation.

“Are you sure?” He pauses before adding, “are you okay?”

He puts his bag down without looking at the floor, and steps towards you. His eyebrows knit in worry and confusion, your lack of words seemingly causing him to be concerned for you.

You clear your throat before speaking.

“Yes I'm sure. I'm okay, I promise.” You give a small half smile to try and back up your words, and to try and convince Spencer, but by the look on his face you know he doesn't believe you. Goddamn profilers.

“Did you have a good afternoon?”

You hope that asking him a couple questions will help to ease you back into talking, but your voice is very small when you first speak, and you assume it's because you haven't spoken out loud since he left.

“Yes, we did, thank you. Derek was unhappy about being dragged around to all the small, dingy bookstores, his words not mine, but I think he forgave me after I bought him lunch.”

You can't help but let out a small laugh at that, it does sound a lot like Derek, he loves to tease Spencer. Even more so when they’re both out shopping and Spencer is trying to buy new books, he’s said to you before that Derek finds his need for over checking and going back and forth a million times between stores a little excessive sometimes, all to ensure the perfect book is bought, but you know Derek only means it lovingly. He'd never say or do anything hurtful towards Spencer intentionally.

“That sounds about right.” You answer with a laugh.

Spencer is right in front of you now, having removed his scarf and coat, leaving them untidily thrown about on the nearest chair.

You feel the sofa dip under Spencer’s weight, and you can tell by his short sigh that he wants to ask you if you're okay again, but you speak before he's able to.

“It's okay Spence, I really am okay. Just tired I think.”

Spencer nods, willing himself not to keep prying. He knows if something was really wrong you would tell him, he just needs to give you some time first. He has come to know your ticks and quirks quite well now, the two of you had decided to move in together almost a year ago now, and you had been friends long before your romantic relationship started, so he is familiar with how your brain works.

He watches you as you shut your laptop and place it on the table, his eyes following your hands as he shuffles back into the sofa to get comfortable. As you lean back Spencer puts his arm around you, bringing you closer to his side. You let out an audible breath of relief at the contact, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer.

“Do you want to take a nap with me?” Spencer asks, squeezing your shoulder with his hand.

“Spence, you know I'm not good with na—”

“I know, but resting can help with feelings of exhaustion, even if you don't actually fall asleep. It's important to let yourself rest in order to help boost your mood, and resting can also help reduce stress and improve your creativity and motivation.” He pauses, tilting his head to look at you, before adding, “I don't want you to burn yourself out.”

Spencer punctuates the end of his sentence with a smile, and you can't help but smile back. The ways in which he wants to help and look after you never fail to make you happy.

“Okay,” you agree, “let's go to bed for a bit.”

You can tell Spencer is happy you said yes by the way he jumps up almost immediately, extending his hand toward you and practically pulling you to your feet. You let out a laugh as he drags you to your shared bedroom, watching as he struggles to hold your hand and get the room organised enough for you both to relax on the bed comfortably at the same time.

“Spence, it's okay, I'll sit.”

He looks at you as if he'd forgotten you were still attached to his hand, almost as though he'd become so used to your presence beside him that he hadn't even thought to let your hand go, even if it meant he'd be able to organise the room better.

Spencer had long considered you a part of him, almost since the very first moment he had met you. The way you seemed to light up the room as soon as you entered, your smile was warm and inviting, and your voice… He had never heard anything like it. He hadn't turned around upon your entrance on that first day, he knew that Emily had invited a friend to the bar, but he was focused on watching Derek play pool against Rossi. Although, more accurately, he was focused on telling Derek the precise ways in which he was bound to lose the game; the way his stance was wrong, the way his hold on the cue was wrong and how he was breathing at all the wrong times in order to make the perfect shot. But as soon as he heard you introduce yourself to JJ and Penelope his head had whipped around, his eyes falling on you immediately. There was no mistaking his feeling in that moment, he needed to know you.

And he hasn't lost that feeling in all the years he'd known you, it had grown and changed as the two of you had become more and more familiar. What once was needing to know you, had then changed to needing to hear you, needing to see you, and now, needing to be near you.

Even as he gently let go of your hand and watched you quickly sit on the edge of your bed he wished he was nearer to you. He wished he could feel your soft skin against his, and feel your chest rise and fall with your breathing.

His longing made his organisation an entertaining thing to watch. His steps were hurried, his feet tumbling over each other and you were surprised he hadn't fallen head over heels yet. You placed your hands on the bed behind you, leaning back onto them slightly as your eyes followed Spencer around the room. He was caught in his own world and luckily didn’t notice your staring, although you could feel your face heat up at the thought of him catching you. He was focused on clearing the bed at first, he had moved the scattered papers and books left there from your morning in bed, and had moved them onto the chair beside you. Next he had ensured all the curtains were closed, only left open the tiniest crack to allow some of the air to flow in from the open window. He had then flicked off the main overhead light, choosing to turn on the warm bedside lamp on his side of the bed instead. And finally, he fluffed up your pillow, turning to you when he was done and extending his hand towards you, stretching it as far as you could in a bid to get closer to you.

Smiling, you accepted his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet and lead you towards your side of the bed. He had left your favourite green fleece blanket at the end of the bed, and as soon as you laid down he wasted no time before placing it over your body. You smiled, wiggling a little to get comfy. Spencer checked the room one last time, as though he needed everything to be perfect for you, and paused. You weren't sure what he was doing. At first all you could see was his back as he rummaged through a draw, but it didn't take long for you to realise his idea once he turned to face you. He was holding a matchbook.

“Which scent?” He asks simply.

“Hmmmm,” you tilt your head and purse your lips while you think. “I don’t know, there’s so many— Oh! How about the white jasmine and sandalwood candle you got me last week? I haven't had a chance to use it yet.”

Spencer nods, and wordlessly walks to your bedside to light the candle. He smiles as he watches you slowly close your eyes, happy that you’ve given yourself some time to rest.

“Spence? Are you going to continue watching me, or are you going to come and join me under this blanket?”

His smile widens to a grin at your words.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m coming.”

And, true to his word, after barely a minute he is next to you.

You curl your body towards his, lifting your neck so he can slot his arm underneath it. You can feel Spencer bouncing his foot ever so slightly underneath the blanket, and you smile, leaning further into his chest. You hadn't realised how tired you had been, but you feel it now. You take a deep breath, wanting to relax yourself even more. You can smell the outside on Spencer’s shirt, a fact that, although is not unsurprising, does make you a tad disappointed. Until you met Spencer you never realised how addicting it can be to be enveloped in a partner’s smell, you never realised that a smell could make you feel so relaxed and so calm. Draping your leg across Spencer’s body you take another not so subtle sniff, trying to smell that familiar mix of vanilla, coconut and coffee.

“Are you smelling me?”

You bury your face in his chest before answering, and you feel Spencer squeeze your arm.

“Yes.” You whisper.

“You like how I smell?” His question is genuine, but his voice is small—almost as though he was afraid of the answer.

You crane your neck upwards to look at Spencer.

“Yes.” You whisper again, with a smile on your lips.

You feel your cheeks warm as Spencer looks at you, you think he must be looking for a sign of teasing on your face.

When he doesn't find one he pulls you even tighter against his chest.

“Thank you.” He breaths, the words barely perceptible.

You smile, wrapping your arms around him as best as you can from this angle, and you feel his other arm lay on your side. His touch completely surrounds you, and you can hear his heart beating in his chest. The rhythm relaxes you, and coupled with the candle and the dim lit room, you find your eyes beginning to feel heavy. You know sleep is not far away now.

“I love you Spence.” You whisper. “Thank you for looking after me.”

Spencer watches you as you finish speaking, he loves that he was able to help you this afternoon. And, despite your regular insistence that you can't nap, he feels your head go heavy and he can hear your breathing change. He knows you must be practically asleep now, but he doesn’t mind, he always has his thoughts to keep him company, and luckily when you’re in his arms he knows it will always be the good thoughts, and never the bad ones.

“I love you too, baby.”

Spencer’s voice is quiet so as to not disturb your peaceful rest, but he hopes you hear him. He hopes you are able to hear what his actions say to you.

I love you, I love you, I love you

You mean everything to me

#i love him so much:(#he means the world to me actually:(#i need him to comfort me and give me cuddles #hes so baby #i love him love him love him lots #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #sage.fics

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seokminfilm · 3 months ago

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love | lee seokmin

🪄 pairing, lee seokmin x reader

🪄 warnings, short, fluff, domestic relationship, kissing & physical intimacy, seokmin calls reader love, reader uses seokmin's nicknames

🪄 summary, domestic life with your boyfriend couldn't be any sweeter.

🪄 author's note, wefjkjleksjdskjl i was scrolling on pinterest and just got overwhelmed with love for seokmin like ☹ i really do love him you guys he's just an amazing person and just so sweet and so joyous 😭 enjoy!! i hope you feel just as much love for him as i feel right now <3

🪄 now playing, song on the beach, arcade fire & owen pallett

"Good morning, sleepy head." Seokmin's voice is soft as he greets you, smiling at your slow figure as you stumble towards him, arms instantly going to his waist as you breathe him in.

"Hi," Your voice is shrunken, tiny as it's muffled into Seokmin's chest. He chuckles, kissing the top of your head. "Hi, love."

"Sleep well?" He asks, pulling away to stir two cups of coffee. Your favorite mug sits on the counter, and you yawn, trying to paw the sleepiness away from your eyes.

"Well, good," Seokmin says, offering you your mug. "I made your favorite. I ran to the store to get some of that creamer you wanted too, so now you can drink your coffee happily." Smiling at Seokmin's thoughtfulness, you sip the warm drink, sighing happily as Seokmin chuckles at you again.

"Is it good, love?" Seokmin questions, pretty brown eyes sparkling as he looks at you. "Yes, Min. Thank you." Your voice is soft as you take another sip, basking in the warmth of the mug and its liquid. Seokmin lays his head on top of yours, silent as he listens to your movements.

The sun streams through the windows, lighting the whole kitchen and living room in a matching glow. It's bright and warm, making your body tingle with hope for a relaxing day with your boyfriend. A tiny meow comes from below you, and you look down to see your shared cat rubbing against your leg, desperate for attention.

"He missed his mommy." Seokmin smiles into his coffee cup, and you laugh lightly, squatting down to stroke his fur. The cat purrs into your hand, and you laugh again, getting behind his ears and under his chin.

"He wouldn't stop meowing when I came downstairs. He knew that you weren't with me." Seokmin sighs, and you smile, standing back up to your full height as you take Seokmin's face in your hands.

Staring into his dark brown eyes, you study every imperfection you had memorized of him by now. The smile lines on his face were the prettiest thing to you, and you kissed them from time to time, causing Seokmin to giggle at you.

His tiny little beauty mark beside his nose was a familiar comfort, and you rub your thumb over it, tracing Seokmin's soft skin in the process as you sigh. "I love you, Seok. I really do."

Seokmin shakes his head, smiling as his lips meet yours first. They're soft and plump, molding into yours like it's nothing. He tastes like coffee, lip balm, and love—all three warm and sweet to your taste buds.

"Not as much as I do. There's no way you could ever love me as much as I love you. That's why I call you 'love'. You are that to me—love, and so many other wonderful things." Seokmin smiles, taking your hands in his as he pushes your hair back for you.

"I would even call you wonderful if you let me." Seokmin giggles, and you smile, crashing into him as you hug him tightly.

"Maybe I will let you," You smile, and Seokmin pulls you to him softly, kissing your lips once more as he smiles. "Yes please." He whispers softly, and you nod, falling quiet as the two of you bask in the warm, morning sunlight—the cat sits in between the two of you, content with third-wheeling.

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milkivikk · 4 months ago

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it me burfdei today, so here are some more UT sketches :v

(that one exiled queen neutral ending where Sans and Paps go live with Toriel):

(colored lineart of underswap skelebros :^), might color idk):

(undyne and paps bonding must be talked abt more/also a neutral ending):

(random kek foe me :V 🎉):

tysm goatmom

#undertale #undertale papyrus #undertale sans #underswap #underswap papyrus #underswap sans #toriel #undyne #neutral endings have so much potential and so much angst/ hurt/comfort #i've been meaning to ultimately draw the og utskelebros but for some reason drew underswap first #i'm also a revived soriel truther just you wait #i also need skelebro fluff they deserve to be happy #skelebros #brainrotted on undertale rn it's been an automatic response to indulge myself in now #my art

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kenm4vhs · 2 years ago

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that’s me girls is literally me

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kokokoula · 10 months ago

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HEAR ME OUT-- i headcanon that tsukishima kei has a sweet tooth, and absolutely cannot take anything bitter, mainly because his favourite food is strawberry shortcake. so here's an idea:

"i thought you'd like coffee. it's bitter and black, just like your soul." kageyama had stated bluntly one day, and hinata nodded his head in agreement. (tsukishima retorts back about something to do with a milk obsession.) it seems like a common misconception.

you ask him to check out a new cafe that's famous for their coffee with you, and even though he hates coffee with a passion, he finds himself agreeing to it. he is convinced it's because of how excited you look.

he gets a mocha, hoping the chocolate could even out the bitterness of the espresso. he stares at the black liquid in his cup and braces himself. he takes a sip of it, and still winces at the taste. you catch the scrunched up look on his face.

"is the coffee alright?" you ask, and the concern on your face made him feel bad for disliking coffee at all.

"it's fine, i'm just not a fan of coffee." he admits, but waves it off, hoping you wouldn't worry about him. he doesn't expects you to laugh, though. he raises an eyebrow. "i assumed you were the type who likes coffee, so i brought you here thinking you'd like to try. i actually prefer anything over coffee."

oh.

he lets out a small laugh of his own. "idiot," his expression is softer than his usual cold demeanor. "it's about time we ditch this place then." you two end up getting bubble tea.

also imagine you taking a sip of his drink, from the same straw he had used, and his cheeks burn. when you ask him about it, he simply turns away and denies everything. hfjdgfhihd.

#i actually had some stuff written other than this #but i had an epiphany and just had to put it out here #this is horribly written #BUT YOU GET THE IDEA #on a different note #thank you so much for the support lately !!#it means so much to me #especially since things haven't been great recently #love you all muah #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei fluff #hq x reader #hq fluff

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darsynia · 8 months ago

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Surprise blurb bomb!

You’re at a conference and a little worried because your boss has enlisted you to present. You’ve got about a day to go, so you’ve been in pacing in your hotel room rehearsing. However, the frustration mounts every time you hear yourself make a little mistake. Your next door neighbor has heard all of this, so they come to knock on your door, checking that everything is alright. When you explain what’s going on, they nod sympathetically, having to present as well. They kindly offer to help you practice, which leads to the two of you falling asleep collapsed on top of each other on your bed. What happens after that? Who’s your babe?

Thank you so much for this!! I chose Steve, and this is teeth-rotting fluff with my signature little characterization moments. I hope you enjoy!!

gif from @askthesuperhusbands

Notes: Pre-Ultron, no warnings, 2,447 words, first draft so I get it out without fussing

Excerpt:

“I get it. Public speaking is hard enough when it’s important, but it’s even harder when there are no friendlies in the audience.” Steve smiles wryly. “That won’t happen here, I promise. I’ll be in the room, because just like with the war bonds, I’m a symbol of what you’re fighting for.”

Always On

“The idea of ‘public relations’ has fallen into disrepute, just like ‘human resources’--and I think their tarnished reputations are related,” you say, hands clutching the edges of the wooden desk chair ‘podium’ precariously balanced on the hotel bed. “I know everyone in this room is well-acquainted with the concept of finding common ground with a myriad of people-- Argh!”

You frown, feeling the judgment of the rumpled sheet hanging on the wall. It’s covering the mirror that had pulled your focus away for the first twenty minutes of this practice exercise, but you still know it’s there. At this point, the sheet is a fig leaf covering your dignity and your inability to stay focused.

It’s past midnight, and the long day is getting to you. The introductory paragraph of your presentation is in the bag, but paragraph two isn’t working at all. It’s your thesis statement, the crux of the whole project, and you know you’re fighting an uphill battle. Without help from the well-respected UNITY Project, the governments of the world might try something extreme to keep the Avengers in line. Each year the group of philanthropists, aid workers, humanitarian lawyers, and other notorious do-gooders meet and choose ten groups to endow aid or oversight on. You’re hoping for the oversight, but it’s a long shot. The group has a sterling reputation, and their clout might be enough to get Secretary Ross to back down.

Your hands ache from where you’ve been clutching at your makeshift podium, but you square your shoulders and try again. “What we’re seeking is a partnership, a way to celebrate this team’s efforts and smooth over their rough edges.”

The sheet is mocking you, so you close your eyes and picture the faceless group you’re going to be appealing to.

“Citizens around the world trust your judgment and their heroism. Together we can ease fears and--” You stop, struggling to remember the word you’d thought up in the rental car on the way to the hotel. No amount of squinting at the note cards does any good. Your notes are rain-splattered and ruined in exactly the wrong spot, of course.

Throwing your head back, you let out yet another miserable groan.

Seconds later, there’s a gentle tap on the door. You recognize the pattern.

“Go away Steve, I’m busy dying of frustration!”

There is silence for over thirty seconds, but you’re not fooled. After counting to fifty-five, you stride over and throw the door open right before Captain America’s knuckles strike the wood again.

“Yes?” Your withering glare doesn’t faze him. Steve just raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up in a ‘surrender’ gesture.

“Three ‘arghs’ in fifteen minutes gets a visit, you should know that,” he tells you with mock sternness.

Hot embarrassment has you stepping back in dismay. “You could hear that?”

“A few words of the speech, too,” he nods, prompting another ‘argh’ from you.

Your choices are to spontaneously develop superpowers so you can drop through the floor, or do as you always do in this friendship--or let Steve Rogers be the hero. Your dilemma must show on your face, because for once, he doesn’t wait for you to ask for help.

“Something tells me the board of United International Continuing Acronym won’t be convinced by those noises,” Steve says, using Stark’s nickname to cover for the way he pushes past you into the room. For a few seconds, the fronts of your bodies brush against each other, and the heat from those few seconds burns through you.

By the time you recover, Steve’s already across the room, clearing his throat. “I sympathize, believe me. Doesn’t matter how much public speaking I’ve gone through, it still ties my stomach into knots.” He turns and gives you a look of teasing determination. “I have a few suggestions, but I’d have to swear you to secrecy.”

Your crush surges up to color your voice with maybe a little too much affection as you say, “Captain America has secrets?”

The look he shoots you has the same sort of heat from seconds ago. “Here,” he says, pulling a folded page from his pocket. “This is a new one, but back when they first put me in tights, I practiced my script in a room set up with some of these.”

Steve hands you a drawing of a crowd of people, some smiling, some frowning, some turning to their neighbors instead of looking forward. It’s got all of the charm of his usual drawings, despite being more simple than usual. When you look up at his face, his sheepish expression tells you why. He must have drawn it right before knocking on your door.

“Steve,” you breathe, touched by the gesture but also the way he’s captured the spectrum of audience reaction. It reminds you of everything he’d gone through to be the man he is now, the man you’ve fallen for as inevitably as a crowd cheers for a brilliant performance. You couldn’t help it.

“Not now, all right?” he whispers, a kind of pleading in his eyes. “Speech first.”

You blink at him. Did he just acknowledge that something’s different between you? What is it about this corporate hotel hundreds of miles from the home that’s turned everything deliciously sideways? He’s already on the next Act, and you shove those feelings aside to focus like he’s asked you to.

“My place was a quarter this size, but maybe we can…” Steve trails off, propping his drawing on the draped wall sheet and flipping off all but the lights above the bed. Somehow it works, limiting distractions and changing the covered mirror into an easel for his thoughtful drawing.

There’s only one problem.

“Are you planning to lurk behind me?”

“Well, I’d sit in the chair, but--”

“Steve!” You can’t even glare at him, because all you can see is the glint of the fluorescent light reflecting off of his shined shoes. He pushes off the wall and steps forward just enough so you can see the kind look on his face.

There’s no way he could know how romantic that sounds, so you swallow against the sudden tightness in your throat and nod at him.

You start again, and suddenly it works. The chair is a podium. The crowd is real. Steve is somewhere out of sight, rooting for you. You get through the whole thing, and it feels great. You can hear Steve clapping for you through the relieved buzzing in your ears.

Then it all falls apart. When you let go, the chair falls over and smacks you in the face, and the little breeze from your flail of pain knocks the drawing down. Steve rushes over to help, but he bumps into you, and you both fall sideways onto the bed.

The giggles last for a glorious few minutes, and then he says, “Okay, since everything went sideways, can I make it worse?”

You’re lying on a bed with Steve Rogers and his smile is like an early sunrise, so you say yes.

“The concept is good, but you sound like you’re using big words to impress. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not really us. Tony’s irreverent, Clint’s the salt of the Earth, and Bruce is the kind of scientist that puts everyone at ease, at least until he turns green.” Steve turns onto his back, but he doesn’t get up, which feels consequential, despite his criticism. “Nat’s public persona is standoffish but not pretentious, and I’m--”

“You’re folksy,” you interrupt, still stinging from the unfortunate truth of the word ‘pretentious.’ “The epitome of ‘plainspoken.’”

Steve shoots a look over at you, and you realize those two words are exactly what he meant.

“The guy next door,” you add. Inside, you’re crumbling a little bit. Does he think you’re pretentious? Are you pretentious?

Steve rolls to face you again, reaching out to brush his thumb gently across the place the chair had struck you. It’s covered by your hair, but he somehow knows exactly where it is.

“You still have a full day left of the conference before it’s your turn. I could have colored that drawing and given it to you tomorrow, but that wouldn’t have helped tonight.” He pulls his hand back, but sets it on the bed between you. “That’s what makes us a team.”

You’re confused, but comforted nonetheless.

“You paint with words. It’s not that different from art, and every artist chooses how much effort to put in each piece,” he explains patiently. “It’s the same for this. You’re representing everyone, and that means you have to save some of that energy for the physical part of it. Not everyone realizes that.”

“Oh, God,” you blurt out, sitting up. “You are a symbol, just like you said. You’re always on, even at the Compound! How much energy does that take?”

He looks up at you, and the truth in his eyes is painfully intimate. “It’s not as bad now. When I came out of the ice, it kind of felt like I was still in tights. Always exposed for the greater good.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. It’s your job to book him for events. You’re the one shoving him onto the stage.

“No, no, don’t do that,” Steve says, sitting up and framing your face with his hands. “It was worse before, when it was Tony or some random person at SHIELD sending me out. I trust you. This conference was your idea--”

You scrunch up your face with guilt at that, and Steve gets this look of determination on his face. The next thing you know, he’s leaning forward and kissing you. It’s electric, stage lights blaring, orchestra in crescendo, and the velvet curtain rolling closed on the triumphant final scene to the roaring of the audience applause.

Then he’s pulling back, standing, and running his hand over his face. “That was out of line, I’m sorry.”

“It was a masterpiece,” you say, looking up at him with your hands clutching the blanket and your heart in your eyes.

The way his nervous tension completely leaves his body is even more reassuring than the softly-spoken “Oh. Good,” he lets out. His encore wins all the awards your heart has to give: “I didn’t practice that at all.”

Joy colors your voice. “You’re a natural.”

Steve’s ears turn red, and he says, “Well, I should let you get back to it. It’s past one--”

“You could stay,” you rush to say, standing up and stepping past him to pick up the drawing. Behind you, he makes a strangling sort of coughing noise, and you realize what you’ve said. “To practice!”

That just makes Steve gasp your name, clearly amused and scandalized in equal measure, and you groan in frustration. Feeling giddy just destroys your cognitive abilities.

“The speech! What is it about this hotel??”

“A new medium. Canvas instead of watercolor paper. A speech instead of short stories,” he says, setting the fallen chair back upright.

“You know about those?” you ask, surprised. You’ve made a point of working on them only during your downtime.

He has the grace to look apologetic. “Tony made a comment once, that I’d turn up in one of your stories if I offended any world leaders, when I was sent to the UN Grand Assembly.”

“Shit, I forgot I threatened him with that one time when he was being an ass.” Your grumble ended in a colossal yawn. “What time does breakfast start tomorrow?” The conference is a multi-day affair, and missing the early meal had not set you up to stay awake through the panels today. “I won’t have any time to practice this tomorrow night and you’re right, I really need to clean up the wording,” you add, feeling your elation at the kiss drain away with worry.

“Then let’s keep at it,” Steve says, taking the drawing and setting it back up on the sheet. He turns and gives you as wicked a look as you’ve ever seen on his face. “The speech, I mean.”

You wake up to the alarm with a sore neck, your dress pants digging into your hip, and a bed partner. He’s the farthest from a pain in the neck as a man can get, but falling asleep fully dressed with your head on his shoulder wasn’t the wisest decision you’ve ever made. You pull in a deep breath, trying to clear out the mental cobwebs scattered in happy glitter, and Steve tenses up under your head.

“I’m sorry,” you say immediately.

“Don’t be. I’m the one who should have left you to sleep.”

You sit up so he can slip out of bed, knowing that he needs to put distance between you for his own peace of mind.

“Be honest: have you ever voluntarily abandoned a woman who needs your help?” you tease. “In all seriousness, you were a huge help last night, and I’m sure that was outside your comfort zone. That was probably the most I’ve ever seen you talk outside of lecturing Stark!”

“I didn’t even notice,” he says, pulling the sheet off of the mirror expertly folding it over in the corner of the room.

He’s faced away from you, so you indulge in a back-arching stretch while muttering under your breath, “You have no idea how hot that is.”

“Right back at you,” Steve retorts, looking back at you with the sheet in one clenched fist. “I need to get going. Want me to pick up breakfast for you?”

You’re off script and floundering, trying to reconcile the sexy rasp in his voice with this attempt at professionalism. It’s exactly the kind of relationship you’ve always dreamed of, and you find your heart slipping further into romantic oblivion.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Thank you,” He says, holding out a hand to help you up. Once you’re standing, Steve holds your gaze and lifts his eyebrows in a very clear question. Heart pounding, you nod, and he takes your lips in a brief but fervent kiss. He moves back, pausing at the door. “I just thought of something, but it’s--”

“Tell me anyway,” you interrupt. “You don’t have to alter your wording for me.” It’s maybe too symbolic and cheesy, but you’re sleep deprived.

“I’m looking forward to another collaboration,” he says, flashing you a brilliant smile.

Note: I may have to write a sequel with what happens AFTER, given that I impulsively wrote this and missed that the prompt was 'what happens after that' I feel so dumb haha

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #captain america x reader #captain america x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america fluff #first kiss #friends to lovers #thank you so much for the prompt my dear!#i found a way to get permanent dark mode on google docs and it means i can actually effing write omg

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