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rainisawriter · 1 year ago

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I saw your requests are open and I have a request for murayama🐥 If Murayama's girlfriend prefers her love language to him by writing poetry for him and giving small gifts (like a simple drawing,painted stone,necklace and etc.) A girlfriend who is a little afraid of contact in a relationship What would he be like in this relationship? What would he think of this love language Headcanon or oneshot is not important to me, can you write something about it＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

Genre: Fluff, slice of life

Word Count: 2,461

A/N: Let me just say that this is the best banner I’ve made in a while lol I really like it. Also, I realized halfway through this request that you wanted them to be dating already but I was in too deep to fix it T_T)/ I hope you don’t mind and I hope you still enjoy this~

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The first time you met Murayama Yoshiki, you knew that he would become an important person in your life. Maybe you didn’t realize that he would become the love of your life, but you knew he would be important. There was just something about him that drew you in, like a fish unable to escape a whirlpool. Though, part of you wasn’t so sure you wanted to escape.

In the beginning, you weren’t sure how to get his attention but you knew you wanted it. You couldn’t just come out and say that you thought he was cute, so you did what you do best – you wrote him a poem and made him a bracelet to go along with it. Neither were anything fancy, but they had come from your heart and you hoped he would be able to sense that.

You couldn’t just waltz up to him and give it to him, though. He was the leader of Oya Koukou, always surrounded by guys who would lay their lives down for him. You didn’t feel quite so comfortable stepping into Oya, either, so you took a less direct route.

“Can you please give this to Murayama-san?” you smiled brightly, holding out the small box containing the two items, along with some cookies you had bought from the store. It was secured with a blue ribbon so the contents wouldn’t spill out.

Furuya and Seki exchanged a look, clearly unsure of how to feel about this situation. No one had ever been brave enough to come up to them unless they were looking for a fight and you were looking at them without fear. Rather, you were looking at them with kindness which caught them off guard. Oya students were never looked upon with kindness.

“Um…” Furuya cleared his throat, glancing at his friend before slowly taking the box from your hand. “Sure…”

“Thank you very much!” You smiled brightly, bowing to them before turning and rushing away.

The two men watched you blankly until you turned the corner.

“What if it’s a bomb?” questioned Seki, taking a step back.

Furuya scoffed, smacking him atop his bald head. “Don’t be an idiot.”

When Furuya finally presented the box to Murayama, the younger male wasn’t entirely sure how to feel. He assumed it was just a challenge letter or another glitter bomb. The latter made him pause in opening it, dark eyes shifting to the couch he sat upon. He was still finding glitter stuck to the fabric after the last one he had received and that was over two months ago.

With a scowl, he decided to head outside in order to open it, not wanting to have to clean up the mess again if it really was a glitter bomb. Not that he had actually put in any work the last time – it was mostly Furuya and the lower ranking among the part-timers.

Safely outside, he tugged the ribbon, letting it fall to the ground. When he lifted the lid, he could only blink at the contents, clearly confused. He reached for the neatly folded paper first, convinced that it just had to be a challenge letter, but it wasn’t.

He certainly wasn’t the brightest kid at Oya, so the poem left him scratching his head, though he’d be lying if he said it didn’t elicit a warm reaction from within him. The bracelet was made of brown rope with a baseball charm in the center, surrounded by two blue beads on either side of it.

The bag of cookies was snatched from the box by a grinning Seki but they were quickly taken back by the younger male, a scowl on his lips. His dark eyes fell on Furuya. “Oi, where did you get this?”

The tall man shrugged a shoulder. “Someone asked me to give it to you.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t get their name…”

Murayama exhaled in annoyance, his eyes returning to the poem. He wasn’t sure why, but every time his gaze slid across the words, it awoke a fluttering feeling in his chest. Though the full meaning was lost on him, he could understand a part of it. Whoever had written this clearly felt strongly about him, he could feel it in every stroke of the pen.

“Find them,” muttered Murayama, making the two older men exchange a look of surprise.

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“There, it’s done!” you grinned brightly, setting the paint brush down onto the table. Your hands and apron were covered in various colored paints but you didn’t mind – it was part of the creative process, after all! Sitting before you was the completed canvas, the colors vibrant and warm.

“Woah, that looks amazing,” commented your best friend. “Who is he?”

“Murayama Yoshiki.” The name felt nice on your tongue and you smiled warmly, admiring his silhouette in front of the school he adored so much. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“He better,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “Any guy would be lucky to receive this as a gift.”

“Thank you,” you nodded proudly. “I think it’s my best work!”

“When are you going to -”

The doors of the art room were thrown open, causing both of you to whip around in surprise. Your friend looked terrified, her body tensing up as she slowly backed away.

You slowly stood up from the stool, blinking at Furuya and Seki. “What are you two doing here? How did you even find me?”

Your friend looked at you in shock, leaning toward you and hissing, “You know these two?!”

“Not personally, no,” you replied nonchalantly, shifting to the side so they wouldn’t see the painting.

Furuya stepped farther into the room, glancing around and wrinkling his nose. When was the last time he had been inside a classroom that wasn’t destroyed? Elementary school, perhaps? It felt strange to him.

“Murayama sent us to get you.”

Your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. “W-What for?”

Your friend’s voice shook as she stepped toward you, fingers curling around your arm. “Y-You can’t just… just walk in here and kidnap people!”

“Hah?” His eyes narrowed at her, his tone enough to make her flinch.

“It’s okay,” you told her softly, offering her a reassuring smile and a pat on the hand. “They won’t hurt me.” ‘I hope,’ you found yourself thinking.

“Are you sure…?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, we don’t have all day,” scowled Furuya, though his voice lacked its usual bite. “We’ve been looking for you for hours and we’re hungry.”

“Sorry for the trouble,” you apologized. “Just one moment, okay?”

He watched you closely as you gathered your things and he didn’t miss how you hid the canvas from him, carefully wrapping it up with brown paper. You felt nervous as you followed the two large men from the school, hyper aware of the strange and terrified looks of your classmates.

The worst your school ever saw was someone kicking the vending machine because their snack got stuck, so seeing these two obvious delinquents had everyone on edge, especially since you were following them. You kept your head high, though, smiling brightly to let everyone know you were okay. You hoped they wouldn’t sense your nervousness.

Arriving at Oya put you even more on edge because everyone was watching you, sizing you up to see if you were a fit challenge for them. You had no doubt in your mind that if Furuya and Seki hadn’t been with you, they wouldn’t have hesitated to attack you. As someone who couldn’t fight to save your life, you found yourself walking closer to Furuya for comfort.

The boys led you into the gym where Murayama was waiting, lying across the couch and tossing a ball into the air before catching it. Several groups of guys were scattered throughout the gym, all of whom looked at you with suspicion and confusion as you were led to the stage.

“We’re back!” announced Seki with a grin.

Murayama caught the ball, moving his head to the side. His eyes locked with yours and you felt your breath catch in your throat. You had seen him so many times before this, but it was always from a distance and never up close. Had he always been this pretty?

He slowly sat up, his feet pressing against the floor as he watched you. He lifted his hand, motioning for you to come closer but you were rooted to the spot, unable to tear your gaze away from those dark pools.

Furuya gave your shoulder a gentle shove, knocking you from your daze.

You clutched the painting to your chest as you slowly stepped closer, gaze on the ground in front of you.

“Oi,” called Murayama, his tone softer than you had expected. “Why did you give me these?”

Glancing up, you saw him holding the poem you had written. The bracelet was secured around his wrist, bringing a bright grin to your lips. “You’re wearing it!”

He tilted his head to the side. “That’s usually what people do with bracelets, yeah?”

“Yes, I just… I thought you might have thrown it away,” you admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m really happy you kept it.”

Why was his heart picking up speed? He wasn’t sure, but it made him feel vulnerable and he didn’t like feeling that way. His eyes flickered to the brown package held protectively against your chest. “What’s that?”

You felt warmth flood your cheeks, grip tightening around the painting. Yes, you were quite proud of what you had created but… were you read to show it to him? Giving him the poem was easy because you weren’t there to see his reaction. If you showed him the painting now, you wouldn’t be able to avoid it if he didn’t like it.

“It’s, um… it’s nothing! Just a school project,” you lied, laughing nervously.

Furuya scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “It’s a painting.”

“You saw it?!” Your wide eyes snapped to him and he smirked.

Murayama’s eyes narrowed at the two of you, feeling jealous that Furuya knew what it was when you refused to show it to him. Clicking his tongue, he stood up and jumped down from the stage, closing the distance in just a few strides. He reached toward you without thinking and you winced, taking a step back.

His brow furrowed, hand falling back to his side. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No!” You replied quickly, shaking your head. “Sorry, I’m just not very good with being touched.”

“Oh.”

You nodded, biting your lower lip in thought. After a moment of silence, you slowly held out the painting. “I made this for you, Murayama-san. I hope you like it.”

His heart skipped a beat at how cute you are and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to be receiving a gift from you. He took the package, careful not to touch your fingers as he did so. He tugged away the brown paper, dark eyes scanning the canvas.

You watched his expression carefully, but he remained stoic, causing you to bite your lip again. “You probably don’t like paintings, huh? I didn’t really think about it, I’m sorry.”

Though his face remained blank, there was a war zone going on inside of him. He was absolutely touched by the painting you had done of him. He was touched by the bracelet and the poem. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt happier, though he knew taking over Oya was a close second.

“I love it,” he breathed out, eyes shimmering with sincerity as he stepped closer to you.

A bright smile came to your lips and he was sure it had just brightened the room. “I’m so glad!”

“Why are you giving me these things?” Murayama was dumb, but he wasn’t that dumb. He had a good idea of the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it. He wanted to be sure.

“Ah, well…” you rubbed the back of your head, cheeks warming. “I really like you, Murayama-san.”

“Yoshiki. Call me Yoshiki.”

You felt like you were going to burst with happiness. “Yoshiki-san, then.”

He adored the way his name sounded coming from you and he wanted to hear it again. His mind was racing as he tried to grasp onto the words he wanted to say. He just wanted to ask you out on a date, it couldn’t be that hard! Yet the words continued to escape him, much to his frustration.

“Yoshiki-san?”

“What?”

You hesitated for a moment. “Will you…”

His heart skipped a beat. Were you about to ask him out?

“…look at the painting tonight? In the dark, I mean.”

His heart dropped, a frown tugging at his lips. “Why?”

“Please?” You pressed your hands together, giving him a pleading look that he couldn’t being himself to say no to.

“Fine.”

“Thank you!” You glanced at your watch and clicked your tongue. “I have to go, but don’t forget, okay?”

Before he could utter a word, you turned on your heel and rushed away. Murayama’s frown deepened as he looked at the painting. What was so special about looking at it at night? It made no sense.

Then again, nothing about this situation made any sense to him.

That night, he waited for the sky to darken before he slipped away from the gym, painting in hand. He headed into an empty classroom, not turning on the light and nearly tripping over a desk lying on the floor. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, kicking it out of the way.

It was then that something caught his eye. Something was glowing a faint green in the darkness. He slowly lifted the painting, squinting at the words. Painted in the bottom corner with glow in the dark paint were the words, will you go out with me?

He scoffed in disbelief, the corners of his lips sliding upward. What a cheeky little thing you were!

To him, you were strange. He didn’t understand poetry or painting or making bracelets. He didn’t understand why you liked him or how you had come to do so, but he admired the fact that you had approached Furuya and Seki without fear.

You didn’t look at any of them with disgust or fear, just kindness. People were always quick to judge those at Oya, and rightfully so, but they were rarely ever given a chance. You were willing to give them one.

Murayama smiled as he leaned against the window sill, the cool night air ruffling his hair. He could definitely picture you as the queen of Oya, as his queen.

“I hope you’re ready,” he hummed softly. “Tomorrow, I make you mine~”

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weapon-ish · 10 months ago

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alright long long sappy weird post incoming abt my own personal story of being an ao3 author with a "sorry i haven't updated in a while! [some of the wildest shit you've ever heard] haha i should be back at it more regularly soon though! thanks for your patience!"

for context i last posted a fanfic, my first and only one i published, TEN YEARS AGO. like almost ten years and one month to the day. i was fourteen?! and it was well received and boosted my confidence a lot - several writers i really admired complimented me, and a few artists even made fanart of it (and ALL the art was amazing!!!!!!!!!) it absolutely blew my mind. like, people were so freaking nice to me about my very first published fanwork, and it really really meant a lot to me then and still does now, that people cared enough about something i made to make something in response.

but also it made me nervous to put out anything else. i had other stuff i'd already written, and i had more ideas. but what if i just got lucky the first time? or the semi-sequel i was planning just didn't live up to the first one? all kinds of stuff that i think is probably really really normal for people to feel about Sharing Their Work. but i was very in my head about the whole thing. if i couldn't do it just as good or better the next time, i didn't want to do it At All.

and unfortunately, in the most typical fashion for an ao3 author, i had a life-altering medical emergency almost immediately after publishing. i had been sick for a while, trying to hide it. but it turns out i was, like, dying sick. like "i'm now permanently disabled" sick. and i'm okay enough now, but. life got significantly harder after that. many days i barely had the energy to watch television from my bed, much less sit at my desk and actually Write Something. my brain was fried and scrambled. my body was wrecked. i was deeply traumatized by my experiences.

(i will never, ever forget the kindness of one of my favorite fanartists; she drew me a card with my favorite characters holding balloons that spelled out "get well soon!" i didn't cry much in the hospital, but i cried a lot about that. i looked at it every day that i could physically operate my phone. i still have it saved. she sent it the first week i was in and i looked at it as much as i could for the next month i was there.)

for about a year, i didn't leave my house except for medical appointments, or maybe to visit my brother, and those visits were mostly just us sitting on the couch and watching things together. even that was hard, i'd fall asleep. but he was good to me.

and even when i got a little better, i still couldn't really leave the house, i could just sit at my computer. but i started making friends on the internet, actual good friends, people with similar experiences and interests. and when i was sixteen, after i finally got another surgery i really needed, i went on my first trip in years to visit an internet friend. i flew to another state by myself to meet a person i met on tumblr. crazy, right? but it was awesome. we're still dear friends. and a little later, another friend rode a bus halfway across the country to stay a week with me over a school break - and they were amazing. i met both those friends again, i even saw one of them last year, we still love each other so much.

having my brother and those internet friends genuinely gave me will to live. they saw what i was going through, and loved me relentlessly through it. they were completely understanding and accepting of my disability, even the objectively gross parts of it, and never made me feel bad for it. they showed me that my life, while radically altered, was not anywhere near over - that i could be disabled and also extremely happy. i didn't know that. in that hospital, i was so close to being entirely hopeless about anything ever being good again. on that airplane, at that bus station, i was so full of excitement and elation to be living. even when we weren't together, there was promise for more chances to see each other. even if i was tired, or in extreme pain, or nervous, i had love. so much love.

but i still lost a lot. head still scrambled, brain fog constant. i fell out of touch with creative writing, which was something i had loved since i was a small child. i mean, how do you write when it's hard to even read? i was a voracious reader as a kid, but not so much After. i say After because even though it all happened when i was just fourteen, i felt like i lost any chance to be a kid. like i lost a massive part of who i was, because i was used to who i was being what i could do, and i suddenly couldn't do those things. not the same way.

i was afraid to even try anymore. my skills had degraded and the prospect of having to truly work at what was once so easy, so natural to me - it seemed absolutely insurmountable. chatting about headcanons, sure, easy-ish! stream of consciousness. writing? actually writing things to show people? much harder. i even wrote my diaries in cryptic ways, strange fonts and multiple things overlaid in different colors, just to make sure nobody could judge the quality of - of my writing to myself.

and then, yknow, other life things happened. trying to graduate. getting a job and working myself to death to impress people (who did not care in the slightest about how hard i tried, and tossed me away like trash for being disabled.) the death of a very important person in my life. moving out. a string of questionable relationships and one actually really really bad one. trying to recover any of my sanity or self esteem after being abused by someone i trusted. bouncing between housing situations and sleeping in my car. finding love! the real deal! surviving the first half-year of the pandemic as an immunocompromised person with six roommates all working service jobs. multiple other devastating deaths. yknow, like? other insane shit? just really truly bonkers shit?

and in the last two or three years, i've gotten a chance to... relax. slow down. i live with just my wife now, in a decently sized place. i repaired my relationship with my parents. i have a polycule of extremely wonderful people, and really incredible friends. i'm not afraid of my partners. i'm respected by the people in my life. i'm allowed and encouraged to like things, to really like things, to not be ashamed of being autistic and having special interests. i'm encouraged to be creative in any form i want to try. my physical health isn't great, but it's stable. i'm stable.

and i decided... i wanted to write again. to try. even if it wasn't easy like it used to be. even if it wasn't "as good" as something i did ten years ago, nearly half my life ago. even if nobody cared except my friends. to just do it because i have thoughts, and feelings, and they're bouncing around inside my heart and my brain and my soul and i want to let them out! i want to share. i've decided that i do not have to be afraid of sharing.

and, like, is that kind of a silly point to come to? that i lived through hell and now... want to be unashamed to write and post fanfiction? maybe, i don't know, maybe a little bit.

but also, it's been almost exactly a decade since i got my shit wrecked by my own biology. i wrote and shared that first fanfic while i was trying to hide an extreme illness from my family - i had been getting sicker for months, and i didn't know why. but i didn't want help. i was deeply convinced it was better to die slowly than inconvenience anyone.

i wrote and published a silly fic to distract myself from something horrifying that was happening to me. and few weeks later - shit well and truly hit the fan, and i did die multiple times, and then i got to live with the consequences of not asking for help when i needed it. (and the consequences of medical malpractice! that's a big one too. not everything was on me. like, definitely some of it, but not all of it.)

and now i'm, like, pretty happy with my life. i have so much good all around me. i actually want to live, i have plans for my future, i have goals. and. i have the kindness to just. let myself enjoy things, process things creatively, think more kindly about my own work. be less hypercritical of myself and less fearful of judgement. so. i want to write? about things that interest me? not to distract from something awful, but purely as an expression of something inside me that wants to connect to the outside world. as a means to get back to everything i (intentionally or unintentionally) cut myself off from. it seems right.

in conclusion. earlier today i posted my first real live actual fanfiction in over ten years. and that's on the spiritual healing powers of being gay & transgender

#personal

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queen-haq · 3 years ago

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Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

gif credit: @bilyrusso

Part 13

It was 8 in the evening and you were still in the office. You hadn’t accomplished much work today, your mind mostly focused on Billy. You were surprised by how quickly he’d been able to make the funeral arrangements for his mother. Yesterday you had driven over to the nursing home and by the time you reached there, Carla Russo’s body had already been picked up. You’d signed a few papers for Billy and picked up the remainder of Carla’s things before you returned home. Everything of hers was packed into a small suitcase and sitting in your living room. You wanted to call him, ask him how he was and offer your support, but he seemed determined to do everything on his own when you’d talked to him last and you didn’t want to intrude.

You gave yourself a mental shake, reminding yourself to concentrate. This workday had been a wash. When you weren’t distracted by thoughts of Billy, you were putting out fires in your team. At least the personnel conflicts have been temporarily resolved, but now you needed to work on a slide deck that you’d been tasked with presenting to the executive leadership committee later in the week.

An hour later you were halfway done with your presentation when your phone rang. You glanced down at your screen to find Billy’s name on the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He sounded exhausted. “You still at work?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

There was a pause. “You give off the workaholic vibe.”

You smiled to yourself; at least he was okay enough to crack jokes. “How are you?”

“You mean am I grieving over a goddamn dead woman who preferred meth to her own fucking son?” He sighed. “No big loss. I’m fine.”

Anger and hurt saturated his voice despite his attempts to sound unaffected. Your heart hurt for him, you wished there was something you could do. “Do you need anything?”

“The funeral service is tomorrow.” A beat of silence followed. “Do you want to come?”

“Sure. What time?”

“2pm.”

“I’ll take the day off. Do you need my help with anything? Maybe I can call some of her friends?”

“When I found her she was living on the streets, barely alive but still hooked on meth. I doubt she’s got any friends.”

“What about the people in the nursing home? Maybe they want to come?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else there. Just you.”

Not liking the warmth that spread through you upon hearing his words, you reminded yourself he was probably feeling unusually vulnerable. This wasn’t typical of him.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked.

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “I would but I have so much work to do. I’ll be here for another hour at least.”

“Come over after you’re done.”

“It’ll be really late.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

“I can stop by my place to pick up your mom’s-.”

“No, it’s okay.”

You realized he wasn’t quite ready to go through Carla’s belongings yet.

“Bring your stuff with you.”

“Stuff?”

“Overnight bag, clothes for tomorrow, whatever.”

“Oh. You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah, might as well. We can drive over together for the service tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Despite the conversation coming to a natural end, he wasn’t hanging up. It seemed as if he was reluctant to be alone, probably because that meant dealing with the complicated emotions for his mother. You knew exactly how that felt. “If you want, I can leave now. I can work from your apartment instead of the office.”

“You’re not worried I’ll be tempted to spy on Valiant stuff?” he teased.

You smiled. “As if I’d let you see what I’m working on.”

“Guess no corporate espionage for me tonight.”

“Still going to keep you away from my laptop.”

He chuckled. “Just get here. I promise not to bug you while you work.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you started gathering your things together.

***

An hour later, you were at his place. When he opened the door, you immediately grew concerned at how tired he looked. Traveling back and forth from Vegas plus dealing with the news about Carla’s death within the last few hours meant he was absolutely exhausted.

“Hey,” he greeted you, smiling as he took the overnight bag from your hands.

You removed your heels while he took your bag inside his room and then made your way to his living room. While his penthouse suite was much bigger than yours, you actually didn’t like it very much. Despite the high-end finishes and the beautiful interiors - Billy had obviously hired a designer to make the place look good - it always felt very cool and inhospitable to you. It was too perfect and you always felt out of place inside the suite.

“You hungry?” he asked, coming up behind you. “I ordered dinner for you.” Arms encircling your waist, he dropped a kiss on the back of your head as he maneuvered you to the kitchen. He’d laid out the food for you on the dining table, and from the take-out containers you knew it was from one of your favourite Indian restaurants. The thoughtful gesture surprised you, you weren’t used to that from him. Noting that he’d only set the table for one, you turned around to look at him. “You’re not going to eat with me?”

“I ate already. I was starving. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You cradled his face with one hand, your eyes roving over his beautiful face as he placed a kiss on the fleshy part of your palm. “You look exhausted. Did you even sleep?”

“No” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, weary. For a moment he closed his eyes, simply holding still, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You didn’t understand why you’d even initiated the embrace – hugs were never your thing – but seeing him so beaten-down you were desperate to comfort him. He leaned into you, his body flushed against yours, and you held him tight. Stroking the nape of his neck, you placed a soft kiss on the center of his forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap while I work?”

“You don’t mind?”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “At least I don’t have to worry about you stealing my company secrets while you sleep.”

He smirked. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Yup. Probably still working away.”

Billy grazed your temple softly before dropping a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay, but eat first.”

You nodded your head, watching after him as he sauntered out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hallway.

Sighing, you went to the sink to wash your hands before eating.

***

It was after midnight and you were still working on your slide deck when you heard Billy puttering around in the bathroom. Soon he slowly made his way towards you, dressed in a t-shirt and black boxers, his hair all messy. He yawned lazily, falling onto the other end of the couch.

“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” you remarked.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

“Almost done.” You saved the file and shut off the laptop before slipping it back inside your bag.

Suddenly he pulled you closer and you found yourself tucked underneath him on the couch as he glanced down at you from above. “You work too hard.”

You smiled up at him. “They don’t pay me the big bucks to sit there and look pretty.”

A slow, incandescent smile curved his lips. “I would. If I ran Valiant, you’d be my personal stress relief. You’d be in my office the entire time and do nothing but look pretty and service me.”

“That’s sexual harassment.”

Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. I’d make it worth your while.”

You laughed, angling up to kiss him. “Your breath is all minty fresh.”

“I brushed my teeth for you.”

“Wow. Be still my heart.”

A warm grin covered his face as he shifted down your body to nuzzle your neck. His weight was heavy as he rested atop you, but you liked the solid feel of him on you, the way you felt all safe and warm. You stroked his hair while he drew lazy circles on your chest, the silence between you two comforting.

“No one knows about her. Not Frank, not Curtis, no one.”

Those names were familiar to you because Billy had mentioned them in passing a few times. Of course he’d never shared any other info, but you being you, you’d dug around and found out more about them. You knew they’d served with Billy and he considered them his closest friends.

“When I found her three years ago, I put her in that home and forgot all about her.”

“You visited her every week,” you reminded him.

“Because I wanted her to regret abandoning me. I wanted her to see how far I’d come, I wanted to throw her mistakes in her face. But I don’t think she regretted safe-havening me, not even a bit.”

The bitter pain in his voice made your heart hurt for him.

“Maybe I should be happy she’s finally dead, or maybe I’m supposed to be sad or something.”

“How do you actually feel?”

“Nothing. I feel nothing.”

“Billy, I think that’s normal. There’s no right or wrong in this. All of your feelings are valid.”

“Even if her dying made me absolutely ecstatic? You wouldn’t think I was a fucking psychopath?”

“You are a psychopath but not because you have conflicting emotions about your terrible mother dying. You have the right to feel how you feel about her, whatever that might be.”

Eyes blazing with emotion, he hovered about you to meet your gaze. “Then what makes me a psychopath?”

You quirked your eyebrow. “The fact you want to torture my dates.”

“Not just torture, I want to kill them.” Eyes darkened, voice velvety-smooth, he covered your mouth with his and ravaged you with a kiss that left you thrumming and breathless.

“Only you’re allowed to touch me?” you asked through labored breaths.

“Yes.” His voice was a lustful rasp, his mouth leaving a heated trail as he sucked on the oh-so-sensitive corner of where your neck and shoulder intersected. Sparks of electricity ran down your spine. “Only me.”

You took his hand and guided it down your body, parting your thighs for him.

Like always, you were soon completely lost in the erotic pleasure of his mouth on you. Your legs hooked over his shoulders, your hands grabbed the back of the couch for support as he fucked you with his hands and mouth, sucking you, licking you, his tongue flicking over your clit until you were keening under him. Body arching off the couch, you moaned his name louder and louder until he drove you completely over the edge.

Then you felt a light slap on your cunt which immediately brought you back to reality. Opening your eyes, you found Billy perched between your legs, gracing you with the most wicked smile. “That’s one.” He slapped your pussy again, this time his long, lean fingers ever so slightly grazing your clit and your hips bucked, wanting more. “As promised.” His eyebrow quirked up. “Punishment.”

“Not fair,” you protested. “I’ll date who I want.”

He slapped you again, a little harder this time, but then he leaned down to place comforting kisses on the very spots he assaulted and you moaned with pleasure.

“All of you.” His tongue lapped over your clit, eyes locked with yours. “Belongs to me. I own you.”

“You don’t!” You squealed when he flipped you over unexpectedly, grabbing you by the hips so your ass was lifted of the couch. And then he squeezed your butt cheeks, biting them lightly before he started rimming you.

***

After sharing a shower the two of you were laying in his bed, your back pressed against his chest as you both stared up at the ceiling. His one hand was intertwined with yours, the other arm circled around your hips. The two of you didn’t have sex but you didn’t mind. You were both fatigued.

“I smell like you now,” you murmured, realizing the soap in his shower had left its scent on you.

“I know. I like it.” He squeezed your fingers. “I have a present for you.”

“I hope it’s not earrings again.”

He chuckled. “No, not earrings.”

“What is it then?”

“Jewelry.”

You turned back to look at him. “What? Like a necklace?”

“Something like that. Except I’m the only one who’ll see you wearing it.”

“Ah. And where is this gift?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Not here yet.”

You smiled to yourself. “People usually wait until they have the gift in hand before telling others about it.”

“I couldn’t wait. I’m excited to see you wear it.”

He stroked your hair, and your eyes grew heavy. Soon you started falling into deep slumber, feeling calm, comforted by Billy’s arms around you.

“What happened with your family?”

Your eyes flew open. Like always, any mention of your family unfurled anxiety within you. You didn’t like thinking about them letting alone discussing them. “They passed away.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

He pulled you up so you were facing him now, his intoxicating gaze completely focused on you. “That day when I asked you about the pictures, you said you weren’t close to your family.”

“I meant my extended family. I don’t keep in touch with them,” you replied smoothly.

“What were your parents like?”

Irritation surged through you at his obtrusive questions but you had to remind yourself he just lost his mother. He was feeling out-of-sorts, working through his grief – even if he didn’t think so – and he was reaching out to the only person in his life that knew about his mother. “Normal.”

He simply stared at you for a long time, studying you, saying nothing. “Normal,” he repeated, finally breaking the strained silence.

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze to the base of his throat so you didn’t have to hold his piercing stare. “Yup.”

“How did they die?”

“Car accident.”

“You miss them?”

“Of course,” you lied.

He reached out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “So you grew up with great parents, white picket fence and all that bullshit? Sounds like you had a fairytale childhood.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Sure. I’ll add this to the list of all the other shit we’ll talk about someday.”

He sounded almost angry with you and you weren’t sure why. Before you could question him, however, he pulled you close so you were snuggled against his chest and the warmth of his body was enough to silence your brain and lull you to sleep.

***

It was a cold, crisp autumn day in New York. The outdoor service, attended by only you and Billy, was short and quick. Throughout it, he’d gripped your hand even though he’d been outwardly calm and collected. Even now as he stood a few feet away from you, impeccably dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses as he stared out at the pond, you sensed he was a complete mess inside. You didn’t know what to say to him so you simply sat on the bench, both of you in an isolated corner of the garden. Eventually he came to sit beside you, taking your hand in his.

“I’d have given her the whole world.” His voice was filled with pain and longing as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in the upper pocket of his suit. “I would have given her anything she ever wanted.” Billy’s eyes met yours. “If she’d just wanted me.”

You scooted closer to wrap your arms around him, breathing him in as he sunk into you. His hands caressed your back, his grip on you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe. After a while he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes holding you prisoner in front of him.

“Swear to me you’ll never leave.”

“Billy-”

“Promise me!”

“I can’t.”

“It wasn’t a fucking request, Y/N.”

You tried to pull away from him but he fisted the back of your hair, holding you in place.

The raw urgency in his voice played havoc with your emotions. If you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could shut out all the doubts in your head and simply believe him - but you could only live the fantasy for a short moment before reality forced its way back in. “You don’t mean those words, Billy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t feel that strongly about me.”

His eyes narrowed, glaring at you with hostility. “You’re gonna tell me how I feel?”

“I’m not what you want.”

“And what do you think I want?”

You gave him a sad smile. “The best of everything. Best car, best clothes, the most beautiful women in your arms. You want all that because you need others to want what you have.”

“Is that so wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that – except I don’t fit into any of those categories. You want a woman like Dinah Madani. I’m not her. So eventually this thing between us will end.”

His jaw was set in a grim line, eyes burning bright with rage. “So you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Don’t get mad. You know it’s the truth.”

He yanked you closer, crushing you against him. “It’s been me against the world for as long as I can remember. But when I look at you.” His eyes softened, mouth parting as his dark gaze roamed over your face. “I don’t feel alone anymore.”

Your heart melted. The tenuous handle you had on your self-control disintegrated completely. You closed your mouth over his, kissing him frantically as he picked you up and straddled you across his lap.

He pulled back to look at you. “You’re my home. You’re all I need.”

Part 14

A/N - As always, all of your feedback, comments, asks, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated. They truly inspire me to keep writing, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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storiesofsvu · 3 years ago

Text

A Redemption Earned Ch 4

Heather Dunbar x reader Warnings: language, slight mentions of death/issues from heather's past.

It had been just over a month since you had met Heather Dunbar, and you were beginning to wonder what exactly was going on. You hadn’t heard from her or received any kind of paperwork summoning you to a court room, and you were the most surprised when Amber turned back up in your classroom a week ago. She had a new set of foster parents, these ones always accompanied by a children’s services worker, and sometimes a cop, which honestly, you felt like it drew negative attention to everything. You made sure to not treat her any different than normal but keep a bit of a watchful eye on her otherwise, knowing that you were a known and trustworthy adult in her life, there was always a chance of her attempting to reach out to you instead of a new parental figure. You’d tried to ask her caseworker about things, but naturally, they couldn’t say too much, if anything at all, but assured you Amber was already doing leaps and bounds better with her new placement.

The other thing on your mind was that it had been so long since you’d heard from Heather, although you knew just how long court cases could take to get to trial. As long as you were on her potential witness list, even a budding friendship was probably a bad idea if you wanted things to come out on the right side of the case. You had begun to wonder if you’d completely misread the subtext in the room, the small glances and comments between the two of you had you thinking she was interested, but then again, you weren’t even sure if she batted for the same team or not. An ex and kid had been mentioned, and while that was easier with a specific gender of partner, it was still very possible with either.

Today, your mind wasn’t really anywhere as you sat at your desk, the school empty, giving you time to clean and reorganize. You made sure none of the cubbies or kids desks had food waiting to rot in them, dumping the garbage in the larger ones in the hallway and redoing the theme from winter to spring. You took the time to clean out your desk, making sure you had all the appropriate curriculum things when you came across a folder in the bottom drawer, letting out a quiet swear when you flipped it open. It wasn’t labelled, and that was simply because you hadn’t wanted anyone else seeing it, inside, a copy of an art assignment of Amber’s from a few days prior. You knew exactly where Heather’s business card was, pinned to the corkboard in your kitchen, exactly where you didn’t need it right now. Letting out a low sigh you packed up your things and glanced around the room, making sure you’d completed everything on your do to list for the day before locking your classroom door behind you.

The coffee shop wasn’t crowded, but busier than she had expected for just past noon on a Thursday, although, that didn’t bother Heather too much, she was only halfway through a phone call. Attempting to keep her voice muted to not disturb patrons as she filed into the line, though most people seemed to be coming and going, and there was a corner of the café filled with a small group of teenagers. That didn’t make sense to her, but she refocussed on the chattering in her ear, giving her two cents when she could get them in. She glanced around while she wrapped the call, glad to see that the current crowd seemed to be grabbing a drink and leaving or packing up their tables and making their way out. It had been her plan to work here for at least a little bit, a little change or environment from the office for the day. Right as she turned her attention back to the call, she glanced toward the menu board, stepping forward as the customer in front of her did the same, only to falter, stepping back double the space as a rowdy teenager plowed past her. She let out a near scoff, hanging up the phone right as something, or rather someone, crashed into her from the other side.

“I am so sorry!” Your voice broke through her distraction as she nearly whipped around, “I wasn’t paying attention” you gestured to the phone in your hand that you were halfway through reading an email on before you suddenly glanced up at her, your worry fading as your head tilted, “Heather?”

“Y/N…” she greeted, a small smile breaking open on her lips, “shouldn’t you be…” she gestured toward the direction of the school and you laughed, glancing around.

“It’s spring break.” You shrugged, gesturing towards the number of pre teens and teenagers scattered through the shop and Heather let out a huff of a laugh.

“I guess that makes sense.” She got distracted as the barista called for the next order, pausing your conversation to order, barely noticing as you manage to slip up to the till beside her,

“I’ve got hers.” You waved it off, “add on a medium latte please?”

“Are you sure?” Heather hesitated in putting her wallet away and you laughed again, a sound that was nearly music to her ears.

“It’s like three bucks Heather, I think I can afford that, even on my lowly teacher salary.” You teased with a grin as the worker processed your card.

“Thank you.” She smiled softly as the two of you moved off to the side to wait for your orders.

“Course.” You smiled back as you tucked your phone and wallet back into your bag. There was a moment of silence before you both began to speak at the same time, a laugh echoing between you as Heather prayed her cheeks weren’t turning pink before you paused once again, your gaze on your orders being made, leaving her the opportunity to speak.

“I heard Amber was back in class?”

“Yeah.” Your head shot up to catch her gaze, “I uh…I was actually going to call you once I got home from here, one of her art projects seemed… circumstantial? Is that even the right word?”

“Important to the case?” Heather’s voice quieted as you turned to grab the two drinks from the distribution station.

“Could be?” You shrugged as you passed off the mug, Heather thanking you quickly, gesturing for you to follow her to a table. If she had been planning on working already she may as well get your input while you were here. As you settled, you spoke again, “I tried talking to the caseworker, she couldn’t tell me anything, but it’s been a while…”

“They took a plea deal.” Heather let out a hefty sigh, it wasn’t exactly the win she had been hoping for, her first case back, but a successful plea was always better than a loss of a trial, “but whatever you have may help a judge decide on sentencing.”

“Of course.” You dug the page out of your bag, sliding it across the table to her, “we were going over dreams in class, good versus bad versus nightmare and having them do a little art project on it. All things considered; this did raise a flag…. It’s just a photocopy, but I can get you the original if you need?”

“No, no…” Heather tossed you a small smile, “this is…I want to say great, but also the complete opposite at the same time.”

“I get it.” You let out a little sigh into your coffee as she slipped it into her purse, “can I ask how things are going? Like, I know, confidentiality, I get that as a teacher enough, but I just wanna know if Amber’s gonna come out on the other side of this or not?”

You felt the weight hit you as Heather let out a deep sigh, her shoulders nearly drooping as she took a large sip of coffee. Though, to you she was working out what slightly positive thing she could tell you. To her, she was trying to sort her personal experience with working through a major life event from what Amber would be going through.

“It’ll take a lot of work, that’s for sure. But if she’s already back at school, I know she’s set up with a good therapist, and you say she doesn’t seem too traumatized, then I’ve got high hopes.” She spared you a small smile, “I don’t have much experience with family law yet, this is all still relatively new to me. But knowing she won’t have to go through a trial will help beyond measures, those kind of things always retraumatize people, especially the victim.”

“God I can only imagine.” You murmured, distracting yourself with your coffee as you silently thanked whatever higher power had kept you from jury duty your entire life. “What made you want to go into law in the first place?” you asked, raising a gentle brow to Heather, “you said you’re kinda new to family law, what drew you to it? Where’d you start?”

“Ah,” Heather let out a small chuckle as she ducked her gaze, “I knew I wanted to fight for what was right, for the rights of people, for the constitution. I guess I always wanted to actually have a voice, to help those who didn’t really have one gain one, and make the world known on issues that they might not have. I ended up drawn to political law to try and make sure that the people who were running the show weren’t corrupt.” You let out a near snort at that and she chuckled softly, quickly glancing your way, catching the way you had your cheek propped in your hand, elbow on the table as you watched her talk. “Clearly there was only so much I could do on that end.” She paused for a sip of coffee, surprised when you didn’t speak up and she began to wonder if you lived under a fucking rock six years ago, “even then, I fought for what I thought was right. It doesn’t matter how high up the people you’re going up against are, as long as you’re doing the best, I mean….”

She began to trail off, lost on one of her legal and political rambles. It had been so long since she’d been able to go off on one, had someone who would actually listen to her. Even back in the day of her marriage, it was her rambling off to Rob while he worked on some new medical research, or him talking out loud through a surgery or procedure while she nodded, focussed on her own legal argument. Instead, you were intently paying attention, even when your phone pinged, your eyes didn’t move from her face, watching the way it changed as she talked about something she was clearly so passionate about. The small smile on your lips caught her eye and she finally paused a few moments later.

“What?” She questioned, finally taking a sip of her drink and you giggled.

“Nothing. Sorry.” You chuckled again, “maybe it’s because I’m surrounded by seven to nine year old’s on a regular basis for like, ninety eight percent of the time, but…you are fucking brilliant.”

“Oh—I…” she felt her cheeks blush at the statement, ducking her gaze. She’d never been too open with anyone about it, but praise of her IQ and vast knowledge of the law was something that meant far more than any kind of praise over beauty or grace in a heart beat.

“Heather, I mean it!” You let out a small laugh, a wicked smile on your lips as your hand shot across the small table to squeeze at her arm, “like, holy shit. Obviously I knew anyone who was a lawyer would be smart but like, you’re also incredibly passionate about it, it’s amazing. If it wasn’t such dark subject matter I’d say I’d love to come watch you in a courtroom.”

“Ohoho… it is not that entertaining, I can assure you,” Heather laughed, “don’t let TV fool you.” A small chuckle broke through your lips as you took another sip of your coffee, a warm gaze drifting over to the woman across from you, “besides, you’re the one out her molding the brains of our future generations.”

“Oh please!” You barked out a laugh, “as if I’m that important. I mean, do you remember what your kid was like at this age?”

Heather paused, reflecting in on herself, first on how much of her children’s lives at that age she was actually involved in, and then flicked over to you. For a moment she searched your face, the way your eyes softened as you noticed her drinking you in, reminding herself this wasn’t some kind of reporter baiting her about her past, it truly did appear that you knew nothing. You were genuinely making conversation, she was still lost in her thoughts when you spoke again,

“You said he loved SpongeBob, right? Was that just a kid thing? One of my cousins…it stayed with him through everything, now it’s one of his favourites to watch with his kids on the weekends.”

“Jordan…” she let out a light sigh, the name escaping her lips even now still felt like a painful memory, but maybe… this was the proper way to help cope with it, “he adored that stupid sponge.” She laughed this time, pulling one from you as well, “he had the entire playset, pyjamas, just had to meet him every time we went to Universal for vacation.”

“You can meet SpongeBob?” You interjected with a laugh and she smiled at the memory, despite the beating hot Florida sun, it was one of the best highlights of Jordan’s childhood.

“Along with so many more.” She paused for some more coffee, “Becca was obsessed with Wonder Woman, she liked the princesses over at Disney, but none as much as Wonder Woman.”

“Well, with a mom like you, that shouldn’t be that big of a surprise.” You complimented and Heather laughed, “I take it she’s off doing wonderful things now?”

“About to graduate from her master’s degree.” Heather smiled, “I’m incredibly proud of her, I only hope she knows just how much.”

“What did she take?”

“Her main degree was in sociology. I did always hope she’d follow in my footsteps to law school or something political, but we never really did see eye to eye. I’m not actually sure what she ended up in for her masters.”

“Shit happens.” You murmured with a small smile, “what about Jordan?” You glanced up just in time to catch the way Heather’s body tensed, the way her gaze ducked from yours, suddenly very distracted with her coffee.

“He, uh… we lost him…. About six years back.”

“Oh Heather…” hesitantly your hand slid across the table, giving her time to pull away if she needed before you squeezed gently, “I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.” She huffed out a small sigh, doing her best to hold back the emotion at bay, “it was…one of the hardest times of all our lives. It was kind of the breaking point for everything. There was no way our marriage was going to make it through that, even my relationship with Becca was tarnished.”

“Is that why you left?” You questioned softly, your hand barely leaving her arm as she looked up with a curious expression on her face, “you… said you were still getting set up in town on our first meeting. I assumed you’d been gone for a while?”

“Uh, yes.” Heather nodded, “things were pretty distant for a few years there but we’re getting back on track now that I’m back in Washington.” She summoned her best smile that you returned.

“I’m glad.”

There was a brief pause where you instantly started to wonder about Heather’s previous life, there were multiple suspicions you had, and you wondered how much you should trust and how much was just an over the top intuition taking over your brain. On the other hand, you were more than enjoying your time together and getting to know her on a more personal base than before. Heather was nearly as conflicted as you, so far it had been all about her, something that she never would have done in the past. Hell, anyone she had met outside of DC knew absolutely nothing about her son unless they knew it from the media prior to meeting her.

“So, you said you were relatively new in town?” Heather pulled you from your thoughts and you hummed in response, nodding at her question, “Why Washington if you’re not involved in politics?” You laughed.

“I inherited a house from an aunt. It’s a nice place in a good neighbourhood and not far from the school, everything kinda fell into place.” You shrugged, “my parents both passed a few years back and left me basically nothing, I figured why not try out DC for a bit.”

“Where were you before?”

“Japan.” You replied and Heather’s brow furrowed, much to your amusement as you let out a small laugh, “I was teaching English overseas.” You explained, “when I graduated from school, I spent a couple of years TA-ing around, trying to figure out where I wanted to settle. My ex was big on New York, but it’s hard enough to live there as is much less on a teacher’s salary, and I wanted to travel, I mean, there’s so much of the world to see. So, we broke up, I traveled through Europe for a while before a friend sent me a link about teaching overseas, and I simply adored it.”

“How long were you there?” Heather leant forward, both very intrigued in just how much you maybe didn’t know about her, and in your story, the ability and freedom to run off around the globe wherever your heart desired, slightly jealous of your experience.

“Uh…including some of the travel, I think like…ten years?” Your brow furrowed as you ticked the years off on your fingers, “maybe only eight? I know for sure I didn’t vote in the last two federal elections.” You let out a laugh and Heather let out a sigh, if you’d been gone that long, and hadn’t voted, there was a chance you literally didn’t have a clue who she was, “which one of my friends lost her shit at.”

“What’d’you mean by that?” She questioned softly, busying herself with her drink.

“She said the 2016 one was a disaster.” You laughed and Heather internally cringed, trying not to blush, “but like, it ended with us having a queer female VP so I think that it’s pretty cool to have some good representation in the white house for once.” You shrugged, “but honestly I don’t really care about politics, which I know is weird for someone living here…” you laughed. “Are you super into it?” You glanced up at her and she let out a scoff, busying herself in her drink.

“I’ve been trying to distance myself the past few years.”

“What, you against the queer female VP or something?” You teased with a smirk and she quickly tsk’d.

“No, not at all! I’m in full support of that, I’m beyond happy to see it and I know she’s made some great changes over her term, I just….” She struggled for a second and you laughed, grabbing at her arm as you laughed.

“Relax Heather. I’m just teasing.” You smirked before draining your coffee.

“Sometimes I just forget what that’s like.”

“So do I.” you sighed, “unless it comes from eight year old’s and they’re savage.”

“I can only imagine.” She laughed, her attention suddenly pulled when her phone went off, multiple times, nearly buzzing its way off the side of the table. You watched for a moment as she picked it up, scrolling through the notifications before she let out a soft sigh, “I should get going.”

“Well, it was great while it lasted.” You nearly teased with a grin.

“Thank you for the coffee.”

“Next time it’s on you.”

Heather laughed as she stood, then suddenly reached back into her purse, digging around for a moment before she pulled out a pen and a business card she was able to write on the back of.

“You wanted recommendations, Dumplings and Beyond has the best chive pockets, and treasure delight dumplings you’ll ever have. Honestly, their entire menu is to die for, but those, with some shrimp lo mein are without a doubt the absolute best in the city.”

“Oh…” you took the card with a smile on your face, “well, I will remember that.”

“I’ve gotta”—

“Yeah, go.” You waved her off with a smile, “hope to run into you again soon.” You flashed her a more devilish grin this time that you could’ve sworn her cheeks flushed at as she vanished from the coffee shop.

Heather slipped into the back of the SUV easily, giving directions back to her apartment. It was only as she rounded the corner and saw Dumplings and Beyond that she realized she how close she was to somewhere else. And more importantly, how confused she was as to the last few hours of conversation. She knew you were being professional and nice but part of her was praying that you were being more than that, that you were being flirtatious. Your first encounter had certainly been flirtier, but you’d also exposed more of yourselves this time, and unexpectedly.

After redirecting her driver he pulled up in front of the building, and she found the apartment easily, knocking quickly on the door, hoping that someone was home, letting out a breath when the door swung open only a moment later.”

“I need your help.”

______ @ms-calhoun @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @giftedchildturns40 @anya-casablanca @svulife-rl @swimmingstudentchaos891 @alexusonfire @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @svushots @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @imaginaryoperagloves @multifandomlesbianic @annegilletteslostwh0r3 @bookpillows @drduckthief @whimsicallymad @mmmmokdok @ladysc @momlifebehard @mmemalwa @holycrapraewth @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @dead-of-niight @fighterkimburgess @lannister-slings-and-arrows @borg-queer

#heather dunbar #heather dunbar x reader #house of cards #a redemption earned

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whelvenwings · 4 years ago

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Up to Date?

Length: ~5k Tags: Canon Divergent, Y yo a ti Cas timeline, Misunderstandings

It's three months after Castiel was brought back from the Empty after confessing his love to Dean, and things are awkward between them. They haven't talked about it. Castiel can feel how much Dean wants to, but he won't let himself, and Castiel can only wait. But one night, with Castiel halfway across the world, he gets a text from Dean that might change everything - even if Dean didn't quite mean it to.

Castiel

It was just awkward. Castiel couldn’t deny it. Things between himself and Dean were definitely awkward.

Three months back on Earth, safe from the Empty with a little help from the Winchesters and from Jack – but Castiel and Dean still hadn’t talked about it. The things that Castiel had said – and what Dean had said in return.

I love you. Me too, Cas.

Castiel knew he should have expected this, the awkwardness. Hadn’t he known Dean long enough, at this point, to be able to predict him? And there was nothing more predictable than Dean not wanting to talk about something.

Still, it hurt. There had been that shining moment of happiness, if a word as soft as happiness was even the right way to describe the feeling of absolute blazing corrosive joy that Castiel had felt when Dean had told him that his feelings were reciprocated. And now, there was just… silence.

It was awkward.

And Castiel didn’t know what to do. Was Dean waiting for him to say something? But Castiel had already said it all. It was Dean who’d only managed to choke out a few words, Dean who must have more to say. And yet he said nothing. Days were slipping past full of staring and loaded sentences and quietness.

The fact that it was all so familiar didn’t make it any better. Castiel wanted something different. It had been different before they’d said anything out loud, but – but there had been something about hearing Dean say those words, me too, Cas, that had changed everything.

He didn’t need much. Nothing grand or unusual, only something to ease the tension. Even if it was just an expression on Dean’s face that acknowledged what had passed between them, instead of pushing it away.

But Dean… Castiel knew it was different for him. There were things that Dean didn’t allow himself, for a tangle of reasons that Castiel only barely understood. Dean didn’t let himself touch. Dean didn’t let himself speak. Dean didn’t let himself look.

But Dean wanted to.

Castiel knew Dean wanted to. So many aching years that Dean had longed for him, and Castiel had been able to feel it like a prayer – and not some soft and murmured thing, a prayer of an older kind, something raw and wordless and desperate. Something on its knees. Castiel could feel the yearning in Dean. It would have been so simple for Castiel to offer touch, but Dean hadn’t ever really let him. And Dean still wasn’t letting him.

And Castiel could still feel the longing.

When they were together, and when they were several thousand miles apart, too. It was there. Never any quieter or gentler, not even from far away. It always touched the same place in Castiel’s grace that it had done from the start. And the feeling of it was just the same, too, like being doused in oil and dropped into flames that reached and hoped and hungered.

Beautiful fire. A beautiful prayer. Castiel wanted to answer it. Dean behaved as though he didn’t know it was there.

The tension in the bunker had become too much, last night, and Castiel had abruptly left with just a quick text to Dean.

> I’m going to look for the artifact Sam read about in Seoul. It shouldn’t be left unguarded.

The artifact was probably just a trinket, if Castiel was being honest with himself, and its significance paled in comparison to everything they’d been through, but it was a reason to get away from everything and give himself a break. It would have only taken Castiel moments to find the artifact if he’d wanted, but he drew it out. He walked rather than flying, pacing the streets of Seoul, following up on the leads that Sam had found. His grace hummed and sighed against Dean’s prayer.

He hoped that when he returned, something might be different. That he and Dean could talk. Maybe even – as he walked down a side-street with neon lights that glowed through the drizzling rain, Castiel allowed himself a wry little smile. Maybe even do something together. Go somewhere. Go on a date.

A date. To a human the word would probably sound little, and normal, and silly for an angel to be thinking about. But to Castiel, it just sounded like something new.

And it was so easy, somehow, to picture Dean coming into the bunker's kitchen, pointing at Castiel semi-aggressively, and saying, so. You, me, date. Up for it?

Would that be how Dean would phrase it? Castiel tried it a few different ways in his head. Down for it? How about it? You in? Each time, the Dean in Castiel's mind looked almost angry as he waited for an answer. Each time, Dean's face softened when Castiel said, yes.

So easy to imagine. So out of reach. Castiel walked on through Seoul, the rain starting to thrum down harder.

–––––

Dean

It was awkward.

Dean knew it was awkward, and he wasn’t thinking about it – he wasn’t. Except when Cas did stupid shit like ditching the bunker without warning, leaving just some handwritten note like a kid sneaking out of his tent at summer camp, it made it kind of harder to ignore.

Staring down at the note in the bunker’s library, Dean pressed his lips together and read it over again, his eyes scanning the words while his brain paid no attention to them, lost in thought.

There was something so ridiculous about it all. The moment between them, the – whatever it had been, when they’d admitted their crap to each other – it felt so overblown to look back on. Sure, Cas had had to summon the Empty, he’d had to get all deep just to save Dean’s hide. But Dean… what he’d said had just been stupid. No point to it. Dean cringed when he thought about it.

Me too, Cas.

The words were so little like something Dean would ever say that they might as well have been in a foreign language. Me too, Cas? That kind of thing didn’t have to be said. Because obviously, him too. But what were they supposed to do about it? Buy each other flowers? Feed each other chocolates? God forbid – hold hands?

Dean felt a little hot rush in his chest just thinking about it, and an accompanying stab of guilt. What were they, seventeen? They were old. Too old for flowers and chocolates. Too old for holding hands. And too old for this weird tension between them, Jesus. Who got nervous and tongue-tied and awkward around a crush at Dean’s age?

Who called it a crush at Dean’s age?

Dean, sat in the library at the bunker, dropped the note Cas had left and picked up his phone. Practicalities. Just focus on the practicalities. He should at least make sure Sam had kept Cas up to date with the latest research about the artifact that might be hidden in Seoul.

Dean tapped on the screen of his phone for a few seconds, holding it a little further away from his eyes than he used to have to do. He read over what he’d typed once, and then hit send.

–––––

Castiel

Castiel’s phone hummed.

With a little clench in his gut, Castiel stepped under the cover of a dark doorway to get out of the rain, and pulled it out of his pocket. Dean’s name was on the screen, obviously. There was the usual leap of excitement, tinged with a familiar sinking feeling in his chest. Dean would probably be angry with him for leaving.

With a stoic line to his jaw, Castiel opened the text, knowing it couldn’t be anything good.

> So. You up to date?

Castiel stared down at his phone.

No… no. He couldn’t have read that right. He blinked, and tried it again.

It still said the same thing.

You up to date?

Dean had just asked Castiel if he was… up to date? If he… wanted to date?

However many times Castiel reread the text, it said the same thing. Castiel stood absolutely still, his eyes puzzling out the letters of Dean’s message again and again.

It was – it was just the way Castiel had imagined it, if not word perfect. The brusque tone, the question. Castiel, half in shadow in a porch in rainy Seoul, stared down at his phone as if it had just promised him the moon.

Dean had just asked Castiel if he was up for dating.

Via text. Obviously. Maybe all this time, it had just been that trying to talk face-to-face had been too much. Maybe Castiel should have left for halfway across the world months ago.

Castiel could feel his heart pounding. He couldn’t stop himself reading Dean’s question, over and over again.

–––––

Dean

When the text from Cas finally came back, Dean snatched up his phone. It wasn’t that he’d been sitting and staring at it, waiting for a reply – he’d just got a little lost in thought, was all, wondering where Cas was and why he wasn’t answering sooner.

The text, though, when Dean read it, put a frown on his face.

> I’m so glad you asked. Yes, I would love to.

Wait. What? Dean checked over what he’d said himself in his first text, just to be sure he hadn’t made some kind of a typo. Nope, he’d definitely just asked if Cas was up to date with the artifact.

So, Cas would love to… what?

Cas was glad he’d asked about what?

None of it sounded like the answer to a simple question about research on an artifact, at all. Maybe Cas was just in the middle of something, and misread Dean’s text. Not something that had ever happened before, but still. Whatever.

Dean circled his thumbs over the keyboard on his screen, and then typed a reply.

< Love to do what

Keep it simple, he figured.

He sat puzzling over Cas’ first message as he waited for a reply. So glad you asked. What did that even mean? Was Cas ever particularly glad when Dean asked anything?

The reply came back quickly, this time.

> Anything you want to do. :) Maybe just going to a bar?

Dean squinted down at his phone.

Anything he wanted to do about what? A bar?

Was he losing it? Dean reread the text over and then over again, and looked back up their conversation to try to make Cas’ reply make sense. The emoticon was typical enough, even though Dean hadn’t seen a smiley one in a while. The way it made his chest squeeze was ridiculous. It was just a smile. And it just followed the words, anything you want to do.

Before he could let his mind run too far with what exactly that could mean, Dean texted back in confusion,

< You want to go to a bar?

There was something about this conversation that was making his heart beat harder. Come on, he told it. What, you can face down the end of the world more than once and a little text conversation still has you like this?

Ignoring his solid logic, Dean’s heart only raced faster when Cas texted back,

> Yes, of course. Unless you think it’s a bad idea?

So… Cas wanted to go to a bar? With Dean?

That was – well, it wasn’t that strange on Dean’s personal spectrum of strange to not strange these days. Fighting Death and God and God’s sister and all the rest of it kind of put a bunch of other strange crap way down the list. But this was still… weird. Not bad weird, necessarily.

But how had they got here, why were they talking about this? What kind of a bar, why? Dean had just wanted to check up on Cas in a few brief words and suddenly they were making evening plans? Cas was making no sense. Was he doing it on purpose? Dean read the whole conversation over again, and pulled a face of utter and annoyed confusion for the benefit of no one, and shook his head.

He thought about it, and licked his lips, and shook his head again.

And then thought some more, and made a hand gesture, as if asking of no one, what the fuck.

He texted out,

< What do u mean

He stared down at the text for a second, and then deleted it, and tried instead,

< Why are we talking about this

He didn’t even read that one over again before deleting it. He made another face, and then quickly typed and sent,

< But you’re in Seoul

However they’d arrived at the idea of going to a bar, it didn’t particularly matter when Castiel was thousands of miles away. Had deliberately ditched, in fact, which was more of an obstacle to them having a nice evening out tonight than the distance between them, but Dean wasn’t going to say that directly.

> Only for a short while longer. I’ve almost completed the search for the artifact. Then I’ll come back :)

Another damn smiley face, another little lift in Dean’s chest. Look at him. Fully grown, and soft over the idea of his best friend looking forward to spending an evening together. Yikes.

Practicalities. Dean fired off another text.

< Okay... you just wanna talk or what

If Cas was going to try to insist that they talk about stuff, well – the drinks would probably be a good place to start, but Dean would need to psych himself up to the idea of trying to explain anything at all that had happened between them. Me too, Cas. He kept hearing himself say it and wanting to bury his head in his hands. What had he been thinking. What had Cas been thinking, when he’d decided on Dean. That had to earn the award for the worst fucking choice in the history of the world.

Dean’s phone buzzed in his hands.

> I think talking is what people usually do on a date. But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Dean’s eyes went wide.

–––––

Castiel

Across the world, in the porch in Seoul, Castiel watched as Dean’s little typing bubble with three dot dot dots appeared, and disappeared, and reappeared.

He tried to quiet the excitement in his chest, tried to remind himself that Dean had just implied fairly heavily that he wouldn’t want to talk on their date – which wasn’t unexpected for Dean, but it did leave Castiel wondering what else Dean might want to do.

A thought occurred to Castiel about something they might be able to do without talking, and he swallowed, and felt his hopes fly higher.

Or perhaps Dean just wanted to sit together in silence. That would be alright, too. Companionship in the quiet. When he thought about it, Castiel knew it would be more than enough just to sit by Dean in a bar and drink together, knowing that they were both choosing to be there. Even if they didn’t say a single word the whole evening, even if Dean didn’t so much as look at him the whole night. They could spend the date speechlessly. But it would be a date. It would be an acknowledgement. Maybe it would ease a little of the longing that Castiel felt and felt and felt from Dean, burning.

Finally, a text from Dean came in.

> Wait what

Wait, what?

Castiel felt his heart sink.

There was something wrong. That tone, just two stark words – something wasn’t right. Castiel scrolled back up their conversation. Had he accidentally said something rude? He couldn’t find it, reading the texts over and then over again. He’d used emoticons to show that he was happy. Had they seemed sarcastic?

Did it seem as though Castiel didn’t really want to go on a date? Or that he wouldn’t really be content for them to not talk on the date? Hurriedly, Castiel began typing again.

< I mean it. We don’t have to say anything. I just want to be there with you.

It was the kind of text that Castiel would ordinarily type out and then delete because it was too forthright, too emotional, too much for Dean – but this time, he just hit send before he could think about it. Worse than Dean being grossed out by Castiel openly having feelings was the idea of Dean not knowing that Castiel really did feel those things.

There was a long silence. Castiel stood still, waiting for Dean.

How many times had he stood, quiet, expectant, wanting Dean to be ready, hoping he would be ready, prepared to wait for an eternity until he was? In the span of Castiel’s own lifetime, he’d waited just a blink of an eye. But somehow this blink had been torturously slow. A torture Castiel would have fought to the death before trading.

Castiel’s phone hummed.

> You really want to go on a date

Castiel stared down at the screen. He couldn’t tell if the tone was judgemental or vulnerable. He blinked, and thought hard – and then, with a little shake of his head and hard press of his lips, he made a choice.

Quite suddenly, the street in Seoul was empty.

–––––

Dean

Dean almost fell out of his chair when Cas appeared opposite him in the bunker.

“Shit!” Dean swore, grabbing the table in front of him with one hand. He watched as Cas tilted his head just slightly sideways at Dean’s other hand, instinctively on the butt of his gun.

He eased his hold.

“Could’ve killed you,” Dean mumbled. Cas smiled wryly.

“You could have tried,” he said.

Dean swallowed. Right. Angel powers were all the way back up, these days.

“You’re back,” he said blankly, just to say something, because immediately leaving the room didn’t seem like it would be a good idea – however much the nervousness in his brain was insisting that this conversation wasn’t going to go well, and he needed to bail.

“Yes.” Cas lifted his phone up to face Dean, so that Dean could read their conversation on the screen. Dean glanced over it. It was strange seeing his own words on the left side of the screen, almost embarrassing. “What does this mean?” Cas asked.

Dean got to his feet, feeling too low down still in his chair.

“Uh…” He watched Cas warily, while trying to keep his tone light. “You tell me, Cas.”

“No,” Cas said firmly. “You asked me if I really wanted to go on a date.”

“Yeah,” Dean said.

Cas stared at him, clearly expecting more. Dean tried waiting him out for a few seconds in silence, hoping Cas would say something else, but Cas had that determined look in his eye that told Dean he was going to have to be the one to say something.

“What about it?” Dean said.

“What does the question mean?” Cas asked.

“Well, Cas, it’s kind of all right there. In the message.”

“You just asked if I really want to go on a date,” Cas said again.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “So, do you?”

It was all wrong. His tone was all wrong. It was aggressive, and blunt. He sounded outright angry at the idea that Cas might actually want to go on a date, and that tone didn’t even vaguely map over the ridiculous leap in his chest at the idea of a date together.

But somehow, Cas’ shoulders were dropping, and his face was relaxing, as though – as though that was what he’d been expecting to hear. Or even what he’d been hoping to hear.

“Yes,” Cas said.

Dean felt his mouth fall slightly open and his eyes go wide, and he looked away.

He could feel his breath suddenly coming a little short. He tried to stand very still and be very quiet so that Cas wouldn’t see what that one-word answer had meant. How much it had shaken Dean.

It was only when he heard the yes that he realised just how little he’d expected to ever hear it.

Cas wanted to date. The hot rush in Dean’s chest was back, and the accompanying punch of guilt readied itself… but held back. Because Cas had said yes.

He’d said yes.

“Is that a surprise?” Cas said, his tone dry but not unkind. Dean swallowed, and managed a smile when he looked back over.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Oh.” Cas looked confused. “But… I told you…”

“I know.” Dean shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d wanna do any of that crap, though. Human stuff.”

He saw something clear on Cas’ face, as though something that had been weighing on him had suddenly been lifted.

“Ah,” he said. “Well… I do. Want to.”

Dean nodded, once, a little sharply. God, he had no idea how to do this. And it didn’t help that he could feel things moving inside him, shifting, like walls crumbling, like stuff he’d smothered finally elbowing its way up to be felt – a blazing feeling, a hurting feeling, a wanting. Somehow both familiar and terrifying.

“Okay,” Dean managed aloud.

“As long as you still want to,” Cas said.

Still? Had Dean ever actually told Cas that he wanted to go on a date? Maybe he’d just been that obvious. Or maybe Cas had actually been able to guess what Dean wanted from the way Dean had said me too, Cas, even though Dean hadn’t been able to guess what Cas wanted in spite of literally being told I love you.

“Do you?” Cas asked, when Dean was silent for a second too long.

That wanting feeling, that hot tense ache that almost had Dean’s teeth gritting against it at this point, it was demanding a yes. It was saying go, go over there, what are you waiting for now? But Dean swallowed it. He couldn’t just have that. He couldn’t. Could he?

“Well,” he said. “I dunno. I mean. We are kinda old for it. Aren’t we?”

Dean watched Castiel consider it, his heart thudding.

“I’m fairly old,” Castiel said, “yes. But I think I’m still allowed to try new things.”

“New things,” Dean echoed.

“Yes.”

“Like… dating.”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “If you want to.”

“And like…” Dean went to say something else, and then stipped himself. Too many things all rushing to the front at once. Too many possibilities. Too many things that he’d given up thinking he could ever have. Too many things he’d told himself it was right that he didn’t have, because it’d be embarrassing if he did.

But now, here was Castiel, standing in front of him and saying he wanted to go on a date. Watching Dean quietly, waiting for him to finish what he’d started to say.

“Like…” Dean said, and then stopped again, and shook his head. “I don’t know, Cas. I’m not… you know.”

“You don’t want to?” Castiel said, the question spoken so neutrally that Dean knew it came with effort – Castiel’s muscles had to be heaving with holding that door open for Dean to leave through, if he wanted. But Castiel was still holding the door. Still saying, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.

“No, I – yeah. I mean, I – yeah, I want to,” Dean said, saying the last part to the floor. His chest felt as though it was going to crack open. He wanted walk around the table between him and Cas, and drop to his knees, and just ask Cas with his eyes to touch him, anywhere, anyhow, gentle or not. “Just… I mean, look at us. Are we really gonna fit with any of that crap?”

He couldn’t imagine them trying to do the usual sweet romantic stuff. Dates and gifts and cards and flowers. So stupid after everything they’d been through, like sticking heart-shaped bows on the muzzles of two rusting guns.

“What kind of crap?” Castiel asked.

“You know. The whole schtick. Lovey-dovey crap.” Dean mumbled it, aware that even in describing it he sounded ridiculous. Lovey-dovey? Christ.

“I thought we could just try things out,” Castiel said. “And see if we can do them our way.”

“But what if it doesn’t work,” Dean said, making an attempt not to sound too wretched. He watched Castiel, waiting for him to give up, to say this was already too much work, that it wasn’t worth it, and they should just carry on going as they had been.

“Then we try something else,” Castiel said.

“Right,” Dean said, with an almost-laugh. “And we just do that over and over, huh.”

“If you’d like.”

“You’d seriously be okay with just keeping on trying forever?” He said it as if it were a joke.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Of course.”

Dean went quiet. The expanse of the table between them was far, much too far. He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded, because he didn’t know what else to do.

Cas saying that he’d keep trying forever was absurd. What was even more absurd was that Dean actually believed him. Cas had that look on his face, the one that allowed no argument, not angry or proud, just – sure. Certain.

If nothing they did together felt right, Cas would stick by him and keep trying new things. Forever.

Dean felt a part of himself breathe out, and with it went the last of the wall. Now Dean was immolating, standing still in the library of the bunker, just burning and burning with wanting to be touched by Cas, and –

As Dean watched, Cas’ jaw was tightening, as though he too were holding himself back against what he needed.

They stared at each other over the table. You first, Dean begged him silently. Please, just come here, just come here.

Cas’ blue eyes were locked with his, trying to say something Dean couldn’t hear.

“Cas,” Dean said, into the silence.

Cas watched him, waiting.

Dean’s mind was a blank. He didn’t know how to take this feeling, this all-encompassing burning wanting yearning feeling, and turn it into words. He didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted without accidentally putting it out of his own reach in the asking. He didn’t know how to want in the way that received, only in the way that was hopeless.

And Cas only looked at him and waited.

Dean opened his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he said. Cas’ expression flickered, but he didn’t move. “I – you – Cas, Jesus, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” Dean said quickly, immediately.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

“Yeah. I mean…” Dean swallowed. “No.”

Now Cas looked confused.

“Do you want me to…” Cas paused, puzzling it out. Dean watched him thinking, if I shouldn’t go, and I shouldn’t stay, then…?

“Cas,” Dean said, “come here.”

Cas blinked, and Dean watched the slope of his shoulders change, watched the way Cas’ eyes lightened with a sudden hope. He watched Cas take a step around the table, and then another, slowly, as though afraid to scare Dean off.

Dean couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. His hands were too big. He’d just asked Cas to come to him, and Cas was coming to him.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Dean moved, quickly, decisively, making for Cas as Cas came towards him, needing to be close and needing it now, and then – and then they were in front of each other in the bunker library, they were right in front of each other, standing with their hands by their sides and looking at each other. And all Dean could think as he looked at Cas was,

This is so heavy, it’s too much, it means too much.

And all Dean’s furiously thudding heart wanted was touch, anyway, no matter what it meant.

Cas reached up a hand, and gently – so gently – put it against Dean’s cheek.

Dean held his head up for a long moment, trying to keep himself together, keep it all in, be still, be silent. He gritted his teeth against the feeling in his chest, against the blazing of his happiness –

And then, he let go.

He closed his eyes, and breathed out. And leaned into the touch.

“I love you,” he heard Cas say.

“You shouldn’t.”

“I love you,” Cas said again, more determinedly, and Dean felt Cas’ forehead press to his own.

The touch of him was better than absolution. It was beautiful. It was perfect. Dean could feel the love of it running through him, easing the rusted gritty parts of him that had thought all this beyond him, and he wanted to gasp through the feeling of it like he was swimming through cold water. If he’d tried ten minutes ago to imagine Cas saying I love you to him again, Dean would have imagined it so sweet and unlike them. But this, this was happening. Cas’ forehead against Dean’s. Cas’ voice saying those words, I love you. And it felt real.

It felt like him, Dean, and it felt like Cas. This was who they were. This was how they loved each other.

“Me too,” Dean said. “Me too, Cas.”

He leaned forwards, and kissed Cas.

They didn’t go to the bar, in the end. They found they had enough to do without going out.

–––––

Dean

The next morning, in the kitchen, Dean turned to Cas and said casually,

“By the way, you never actually said. Are you up to date with the new research on the artifact? We should probably still try to find the damn thing.”

“Am I up to…”

Dean watched as Cas’ expression changed. It went from slight confusion, to sudden horror – and finally settled on a kind of dry acceptance.

“What?” Dean asked.

Cas came to stand by Dean, and because he could, Dean leaned forwards and kissed him again. His heart raced as he did it. Cas kissed him back, and Dean felt as though gravity probably shouldn’t be holding him down at this point.

“I, um,” Cas said. “When you texted me yesterday… I thought when you asked me that, you were asking me on a date.”

Dean’s brain took a second to catch up – and then he pressed his lips together to hold in a laugh. Cas tilted his head to one side.

“Don’t,” Cas said.

“I wouldn’t,” Dean said.

“Dean…”

“I’ll never mention it again.”

“I thought…” Cas closed his eyes, his head dropping as he smiled again at his own misunderstanding, and Dean let himself laugh. He reached out and put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, still a little tentative, still feeling his heart sing with the ability to touch. Cas leaned in, their bodies swaying together slightly.

“I love you,” Dean said, the words flowing up out of him like water from a spring, so easily, so naturally. He felt the immediate seize of panic afterwards, hearing those three words said in his own voice, out of his own mouth – but he couldn’t regret them, not when he saw Cas’ head lean back again, his blue eyes glowing with happiness.

“I love you,” Cas answered him. “I love you.”

#whelvenwingsfic #spn #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #it's also up on ao3 if anyone prefers! I'll reblog with a link ayo

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seriouslysnape · 4 years ago

Text

Picture Perfect

Draco Malfoy x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Sexual implications (a lottttt of them)

A/N: I might do a part two to this...

Word Count: 1,635

“Like them? I love them.”

You watched with anticipation as Draco popped another one of the Bertie Botts Flavour Beans into his mouth. His sculpted jaw moved up and down as he chewed. His eyes suddenly shut tightly and his face contorted into disgust. You leaned forward a tad, curious to see what mystery flavor he had picked. He swallowed hard and coughed at the foul taste.

“Soap.” He sputtered, reaching for the glass of water on his bedside table.

You bursted into laughter, laughing even harder at the way he brought a hand to his chest as the taste dissipated from his tongue. He grinned at you from over the rim of his glass, taking another sip.

“Your turn.” He said.

This was a game of sorts that you and Draco liked to play whenever the two of you made a trip to Hogsmeade. Honeydukes Sweets Shop was your absolute favorite place to go and make pleasurable purchases. There were endless rows of candies and other tooth rotting snacks that were your ultimate guilty pleasure.

You were always sure to snag a new box of Bertie Botts Flavour Beans. You and Draco would sit in his private, prefect room and take turns selecting a bean and seeing which flavor you were bestowed with. You were snug in one of his Quidditch jumpers, your legs wrapped around his waist while the two of you sat on his bed.

Draco was always less fortunate than you during this game.

You took a bean into your hand, taking a breath when you put it in your mouth. Your tense shoulders relaxed when you started chewing. A delicious, fruity taste flooded your tastebuds, a cheeky grin appearing on your face. Draco threw his head back in exasperation at the sight of you getting yet another good flavor.

“Again?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Cherry.” You smiled, swallowing the small candy.

Draco’s blonde eyebrows raised, a devious look crossing over his face. His hands rested on your thighs that were secured around him, leaning forward.

“Mmm. Do you mind sharing?” He smirked.

You hummed affirmatively, capturing his lips in a hot kiss. His tongue danced with yours, tasting your familiarity and the traces of cherry candy. His hands went to the side of your neck to bring you closer, while you gripped at the collar of his sweater. His kisses muffled your girly giggles, a chuckle vibrating out from his own chest.

You tapped his shoulder to pause your make out session, a mumble of realization sounding out from your throat. He whined when you stopped kissing him, but based on the bright look on your face, you had something in mind.

“I have something for you.” You announced in a playful way.

His gray eyes darkened a touch, his fingertips drumming on the skin of your leg.

“Is that so?” He questioned, making guesses already in his head.

You were giddy with joy as you scrambled from his array of blankets and his comforter. You reached into your backpack, pulling out a solid black book with a red bow on it. It was a rather large book, about the size of his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. Draco felt a quick surge of panic. He was the worst about remembering holidays and birthdays, and he instantly thought that maybe he had forgotten something special.

“Don’t get mad if I have, but...did I miss something?” He asked.

You let out a snicker as you rejoined him on the bed. Ever since he had forgotten your birthday a few months ago, now he was always afraid he was going to miss something else.

“You haven’t. This is just something I’ve been working on.” You bubbled up gleefully.

You set the book on his lap, watching as his eyes raked over the cover. He felt a warmth in his chest at being given a gift just because you cared. He pushed the bow off of the sides of the book, opening the cover to see a little note you had written for him, signed at the end with your name and everything. The thick pages indicated to him that it was a picture album.

He turned to the first page, an unmistakable smile of jubilation appeared on his face. The first two pages each had four Polaroid like pictures secured evenly. You were smiling happily in each of the first several photos, wearing different outfits and in different locations. Draco’s heart was beating with exuberance in his chest as he looked through the first couple of pages.

“Oh, darling. These are great,” He praised; “They’re positively stunning. They-”

His sentence was cut short when he got about halfway through the pages, his voice getting caught in his throat when the pictures immediately took on a new theme. His smile faded into a shocked, slight jaw drop. The second half of the book was filled with sultry, boudoir style photos. His fingertips trailed over one in particular where you were wearing your school robes, but the only thing you were wearing underneath was one of Draco’s Slytherin uniform ties settled between your breasts.

In other photos, you were wearing different sets of lingerie. There was one lacy, black colored set that almost made him faint right then and there.

He was knocked speechless, unable to string together a single sentence. You were beginning to feel a little self conscious, and even a bit embarrassed that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. You had honestly expected him to completely attack you with feverish kisses or fuck you right then and there. The fact that he was completely silent was unsettling.

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, uncertainty in your tone as you spoke up to break the silence.

“I...do you like them?” You wondered, hoping to get a positive reaction.

Draco’s eyes never left the book. He turned to the next page, a rush of arousal flushing over him at one in particular where you were completely naked, stretched out on his bed and giving a look so seductive that it made Draco’s belly flutter. The sight of you naked on his bed...it was hot.

“Oh, baby. Darling, my love...” He breathed out, trying to complete at least one full thought; “Like them? I love them.” He almost growled.

You exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a sense of excitement as he continued to rake over them. He turned to a new set of pictures, a hot blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“You’re so stunning...so sexy.” He purred.

You laughed shyly, a bashful smile washing on your face. You rubbed his knee, your hand feeling like electricity on him. He couldn’t look away from the scandalous photos, each one becoming more dirty than the last. He was riled up and he was already looking forward to having this book at his disposal.

“Who took these?” He pondered, wondering which one of your lucky girl friends had the pleasure of seeing you actually model these outfits and strip down naked.

You just had to take advantage of this moment. You couldn’t help but mess with him just a little bit. You choked down the chuckle that would surely give you away.

“Potter.” You lied.

Draco’s head snapped up so fast and his eyes filled with an indescribable look of hot jealousy. He chest tightened, but relaxed when he realized you were kidding based off of your burst of laughter. He sighed harshly and rubbed his forehead as you laughed at his intense reaction. The thought of you asking Harry Potter to take these photos for you filled him with such a rage, but he even laughed it off when he knew you were joking.

“That’s not funny.” He said pointing a finger at you, and continuing to go through the photos.

Your giggles died off, and you answered him honestly.

“Pansy took them. That’s how I was able to sneak in here when you weren’t here.” You explained.

Draco nodded, his jaw still slightly ajar as he loomed over them. You patiently waited as he finished looking through them, his pupils dilating more and more by the minute. He closed the book once he was finished, his eyes finally flickering up to you. He had grown a very prevalent erection, and his eyes were filled with an intense amount of lust. You knew one thing for sure.

He was going to rock your world tonight.

Over the last year or so of dating you, he tried not to be so aggressive when it came to your sex life. He tried not to pounce on you every time he felt turned on. He knew that sex was supposed to be the ultimate romantic connection, and not always supposed to be rushed. After those pictures though, he wanted you BAD. You could tell he was antsy, waiting (and also praying) for you to give him the okay.

You leaned in, your lips just barely brushing over his, before you brought your lips to his ear. You purposely let out a wanton moan in his ear, a tantalizing sound to your voice.

“Touch me, Draco. I know you want me.”

In a millisecond, Draco was on you. He kissed you roughly and pushed you down onto his mattress. He kept your hands pinned above your head, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as he intentionally drew the most wonderful sounds out of you.

“What are the chances of you wearing one of those hot little outfits under this jumper?” He said in a steamy voice.

You squirmed against his hands, but to no avail. You rolled your hips into his, trying to create some friction. You threw him a wink, your response sending him into full fuck mode.

“Why don’t you find out?”

#draco #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy smut #harry potter draco #harry potter #seriouslysnape

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thursday-writes-fanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Choose, part 4. (Reader x Jack Sparrow or Will Turner. )

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean, Will Turner, Jack Sparrow.

Warnings: None lmao

Words: 2.3 K

First - Former - Next

It's been a while since my last update, so here you go!

One year had passed since the faithed night in Tortuga, where Y/N left everything she once knew behind, to seek the truth she needed to find within. One eventful year where she had gone alone through more than most would in their lifetime. Travelling along with different crews, battling across the seas and polishing her hastily growing reputation as one of the most fearsome pirates the world has ever seen. None dared voice their annoyance with her being a woman, for she had allies all across the seven seas. She had seen so much of the world, her confidence grown and her heart set aflame with adventure. Y/N was an even finer pirate and woman than she had been ever before.

Other pirates either wished to be her or be with her, the secrets of many slipped into her ears. It amused the young woman, and the many who worked in the brothels along the coasts. When Y/N needed information, it was not other pirates or navy officials she sought out. No, it was the brothels’ gossip she tuned her ears to. For the women there knew far more of the world than any other. All news came to their homes and it was all available for the famous pirate.

She had earned an even better reputation with them as well, as she sought out the women there the first thing she did each time she came ashore. She treated them kindly, paid for their food and brought along gifts, treating them like friends. Her actions earned her a handsome reputation with the women, and in each town she could always find a loyal embrace to keep her safe. After all, the women of the brothels ruled the cities from the shadows. To anger one of them was to anger an underground nation.

Y/N’s locks had grown long since the night one year ago, her clothing expensive and proud on her frame. A treat she gave herself due to her wide success in both informal and formal businesses. She was a true pirate, yet could strike a bargain with the British navy without a problem. After all, they too were afraid of her.

The feather on her black hat curled down to her shoulder, its size another show of her wealth and power. The weaponry which clad her shape were the most efficient, on all the ships of the sea, not even the British army able to supply her better. Only the finest for herself, the woman had decided. Dual pistols she had strapped to each side of her chest, and upon both hips she held blades, one magnificent sabre and one deadly cutlass, all adorned with the most elaborate details. These were all weapons to show, the rest she had hidden in pockets and secret departments on her curves. Small explosives and hidden blades were better kept in subtle crevices than to be seen by the naked eye when one made deals. All about the fearsome pirate screamed confidence and to show respect, and that respect she had earned many times over.

“We’ll be docked in an hour, lass,” came the captain’s voice, the merry band she was travelling with now not as roughhousing as most of her fellow pirates. Mercenaries of the law they were during the day after all, and they weren’t too keen on going out during the night when there was ale to be drunk with stories to be told in old taverns. It was a life-altering change from how they had once been, when the captain and his crew had been young and adventurous. A smirk clad Y/N’s lips when she faced the man, her fingers fiddling with the sabre’s handle. “Aye, thought it was about time to dock, Captain Henry. And still I’m not sure if I will take my leave of you when we get there, or if I will meet the navy together with you in the morrow,” her deceptive nature made the captain laugh, for he knew just how little control anyone had over the young pirate. He joined her side with a few strides to the railing, gazing at the sea from the quarterdeck.

“Aye, ye do as ye wish, lassie,” mused the older man, finding his gaze once more sought out her face. “Yer not notorious for knowing every pirate for no reason. Can’t keep ye in place forever” he snickered, his mind on the many rumours he had heard over the past year of the pirate. He had seen it himself a few times too, how the famous Y/N had stepped off one ship only to board another in the same port. Her name was known by all, whether they liked her or not. Her presence on a ship could deter a dispute between two crews, for no one wanted her gone. And those who did were quick to find themselves cornered and silenced for good after voicing such atrocious thoughts aloud.

“Oh shut your gob, “ sneered the woman in reply, earning more laughter from the captain as his head fell back to let the thunderous noise wash over the ship. A simple “Never,” Henry retaliated, winning their argument as he strode to attend his crew and ensure the docking process would flow smoothly. Y/N watched the sea for a moment longer, trained on the horizon in an attempt to find a peculiar ship. One which carried black sails. Fingers carded through her hair as she thought about her old companions, but discarded the thoughts just as quickly. A turn of her heels and the woman came to face the incoming port, nothing she wished to see there either. A defeated smile curled her lips when she ventured to help her current crew, missing the hint of black that rounded a nearby island with a course for their port.

“ Alright, lads!” with easy leaps and muscles bunched for one last jump, Y/N climbed halfway up the crow's nest and gazed down at the many faces who all gave her their full attention.

“ I’m saying this just once because Henry doesn’t seem to be able to get it through your thick skulls. If we don’t get this cargo to the bay within the first few hours of us getting to port, the taverns will be full and the brothels closed,” the crew stared at the woman, most having just woken up from their midday nap. Too many faces were disinterested, the woman sneering maliciously as she knew exactly what would get them on their feet.

“Which means, no ale and no lovers!” Y/N roared, drawing enjoyment from the panic growing in the men’s eyes. They had been at sea for a month now, and the lot needed more than the icy waters could ever offer.

“So unless you wish to mope around the ship for the entire night, alone, get to it!” the crew leapt to their feet, their rushing steps and loud cries satisfying to Y/N’s ears. The pirate’s piercing eyes found the captain who let his chest heave with a sigh, not one to question the woman’s authority. She had gotten the crew off their asses with a single threat, when he had shouted at them all day to get ready. The ship groaned when they threw down the anchor, straining against it as it still wished to traverse further. A gangplank found its hold against the port, the cargo soon to cross over it. Both the captain and Alexandra oversaw the process, to ensure their goods would be gone by the hour.

“Ye know,” Captain Henry spoke after a long while, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Ye should consider becoming a captain one day,” Y/N snapped her head to face the man, eyes threatening to fall out. “Me? A captain?” she ridiculed, shocked by his words. The captain let a snicker pass his lips at her surprise, for being able to shock the immovable Y/N was quite amusing. Work roughened hand, tainted by the deep sea came to rest on his back, clasped together.

“Just sayin’. Ye’ve got the guts and respect for it,” with a smirk the captain passed his current crewmate, stepping onto the railing. “I will leave the rest to ye, for I am in need of a drink,” a wink was sent the woman’s way before Captain Henry made his way down the docks, disappearing without a trace. His back was followed by Y/N’s incredulous gaze.

“You fucking bastard,” Y/N shouted after him, her spiteful words only a show of affection to them both. With a shake of her head and a smirk on her lips growing when she heard the captain’s faraway laughter, the pirate got back to work. With an easy step, she leapt atop the railing, gazing at the crew working by her side.

“We’re making good time, lads! If you keep this up you’re probably going to be one of the first crews of the night to get to the pubs!” Y/N encouraged them. The merry men laughed and cheered whilst their work pace increased tenfold at the praise and promises of entertainment. Even the stand-in captain dared to laugh herself, unaware of how many eyes watched her joy from far out at sea.

It started with Ragetti looking through the captain’s spyglass, minding his own business as they had yet to start preparing to get docked. When turning his eye to the port city, he could tear his wandering gaze when it laid eyes on an extremely familiar figure. Too far away to make out entirely, yet the pirate was certain of who he saw. None he had ever encountered before looked and stood like their old acquaintance.

“Oh, would you look at that!” the pirate laughed, Pintel looking over at him with a raised brow. The spyglass fell from his eye, Ragetti free hand pointing to one of the largest ships docked in the nearing port.

“Y/N is aboard Henry the Savage’s boat!” the words he spoke carried over the deck, the silence that followed deafening, the group trying to comprehend what had just been said. A moment later and the crew rushed like a stampede for the two pirates who shrieked in fright at the threatening approach. The spyglass was taken from Ragetti’s hand and passed to them all to get a look for themselves.

“I can’t see ‘er!”

“Is it really Y/N the Courageous you saw?”

“Courageous? No! Her title is the Unbeatable!

“No, she’s Y/N the Ace of the Sea! The greatest pirate yet!”

The commotion on deck drew Will and Jack from the captain’s cabin, the crew’s loud and incoherent discussions about titles and names soon finding their ears. The former blacksmith was with the crew temporarily, as he had a job to be done with them before they ventured to Port Royal. Both captain and his companion froze in their steps when a well-known name echoed across the crew over and over. A shocked gaze was shared, but the two strode forth together for they could not believe in illusions just because a name was mentioned a few times.

“Right. What’s all this then?” came from the captain’s chest, the crew jumping at the sound of his voice. Jack Sparrow regarded them all with his hands propped on his hips, the loyal blacksmith at his side. Gibbs was the first to speak and took matters into hand, roughly pulling the spyglass from the nearest pirate’s. “It’s Y/N, Jack,” his words piqued further interest in the two newcomers, the two striding through the parting crew to the first mate.

“Y/N?” Will asked, unable to hide the hope that bubbled up in his voice at the mention of her name. The blue eyes grew clearer, not the wistful one’s the crew had come to be familiar with. Jack snatched the spyglass from Gibbs’ offered hand and turned to face the port. With his gaze, he followed the finger pointing at the supposedly familiar pirate. Jack froze upon seeing who they meant, eye narrowing when he stared her down. “No, it can’t be her,” the captain muttered, more to himself than anybody else.

“Far too curvy and longer hair. She didn’t look so cheerful to everyone all the time,” the jealousy and denial dripped from the captain’s tongue, the disbelief he held in his heart fading with each second.

“Can’t be her. No way, you’re all dreaming,” Jack continued before yelping as Will tore the spyglass from his hands, the force of it almost making the captain fall overboard. The blacksmith’s own gaze sought the port for the one they spoke of, his heart beating so quickly it drowned out all sound.

He too came to stand still once he found her form. She stood proud and tall upon Henry the Savage’s railing, her hand thrown out as she barked orders to the crewmates. And there on her lips was a grin, a grin that only the closest of her friends had seen before. Now as she shared it with the rest of the world, the former blacksmith’s blood boiled with jealousy.

“It’s her. There’s no way it’s not her,” Will snarled in reply to Jack’s incessant mumbling, handing the spyglass to Cotton. Will turned to the Black Pearl’s crew, and just like the woman on the other ship, began to bark orders. Where hers had been kind and joyous, he’s were angry and determined orders, none on the ship daring to stand in his way. The desperation in his anger was evident, and the fact that their own Captain Jack did nothing but mumble was a telltale sign that this was a serious matter. Otherwise, Will would have had a sword at his neck for even attempting to command the crew. Their efforts to hurry were doubled, when Jack regained his mind only to shout orders alongside his friend.

Oh, how oblivious the woman they had sought for was, for she heard none of the shouting on the nearing ship. For her well-beloved face was already being shown in one of her favourite taverns.

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whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

The New Kid

A Mark fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: the new kid in town is nerdy, quiet, and cute. The two of you grow close, but could he be hiding a secret that might put your life in danger?

Pairing: Spider-Man!Mark x female reader (Mary Jane?)

Other Characters: best friend!Haechan, Ex-Boyfriend!Jeno, Villain!Taeyong

Genre: Superhero! Sci-fi, fluff (enemies? more like awkward classmates to lovers), some angst and violence, comedy, a little suggestive?

Warnings: a little cursing, minor mentions of verbal abuse, gun usage, some violent acts, blackmail, hostage situation

Word Count: 10K

(A/N: alright well..this shouldn’t have been this long but I had a lot of fun with this one so I hope you enjoy it😂, Spider-Man Mark is just so adorable my heartssnsjksjsjksk. Also..barely proofread, so mistakes, I know they’re there, but I pretend I do not see them😌)

—————

“Good morning class! Everyone please welcome our new student, Mark Lee!”

Your teacher held her arm out as she welcomed Mark in your Chemistry class.

Your head snaps up from your notebook.

A boy with round eyes and short brown wavy hair walks in.

“Hi..” he gives a thin smile and a small wave.

Your first thought is of how adorable he is. Your second thought is of how he looks nervous to enter a new school just a month after the year has started.

The class is silent with the exception of a few sniffles and music blasting through headphones.

Please don’t sit here, please don’t sit here.

You didn’t really have anything against him, you just loved having a table all to yourself.

“Please..sit beside y/n, for now.”

Damn it.

Mark pulled the chair out and sat beside you.

“...hi.” He said as he placed his backpack down.

“Hi.” You raise your eyebrows and open your notebook.

You just had to sit next to the awkward new kid. Perfect.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

You and Mark worked on your first project together. You had to come up with a presentation for the fall science fair, so you had to work well together.

“It’s a chance for you guys to get to know each other and build yourselves!” Your teacher said excitedly but the truth was that you weren’t thrilled to be working with anyone.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Mark.

“Alright..where do we start?”

“Well, the instructions say to combine water and salt first, so I guess we’ll start there.” Mark puts his round glasses on and smiles at you, but you frown.

“Okay, you’re the nerd so..” you raise your brows.

Mark chuckled. “We barely know each other.”

“Come on, who in the world wears glasses like that, You look like Harry Potter.”

“I love that movie, is that a bad thing?” Mark asked with genuine confusion.

“Harry Potter is great and all, but what horror movies do you like?” You started to doodle in your notebook.

You loved horror movies, you loved autumn and everything dark and dreary about it.

“Hmmm..I don’t watch horror movies..”

You gasp and drop your pen. “You don’t..watch horror movies?” Your eyes widened like you had been hurt deeply by his lack of taste.

He returned the same look of shock. “They’re not my thing.”

“Aish..what a loser..” you say under your breath.

You turned back to your notebook and continued to doodle.

“So where are you from anyway, Potter?”

“I’m from Toronto.”

“I see, and this little town looked appealing to your parents, didn’t it?”

He nods and looks at the side of your face, noting how under your bleak persona and poor attitude, was a pretty face and gentle touch. He could tell from the way you delicately drew in your book.

His senses also picked up on your relaxed blood pressure and steady breathing.

He saw every pore and heard every breath you took, your lashes looked extremely long as well, bringing about a dazzling gorgeousness to your eyes.

The very surface of your round lips was soft and plump, there was a shade new to him that rested at the center.

“Mark?” You turned to him.

He quickly looked away and shifted in his chair.

“Y-yeah..I’m living with my aunt here..my parents passed away a while ago.”

“Oh..I’m sorry..” you looked down at the table.

“Hey. You don’t have to feel bad about it..”

Mark smiled softly as he heard your heart rate speed up from nervousness.

“Mark..I-“ the bell rang and you thanked the heavens for it.

Mark turned and grabbed his bag before you could say anything else. “Well, I’ll catch ya later.”

“‘CaTcH yA LAtEr’” you mocked him to lighten the mood. “Yeah, Potter, I guess we’ll work more next time..”

He laughed.

His eyes became small lines and his cheeks puffed up, he was adorable, like a kid in a candy store.

You turned away before your face became hot.

———

[1 Month Later]

“The new kid is kinda cute..” Haechan took a sip of his juice while the two of you ate lunch.

“God, I wish I was in your class, do you think the counselor will change my class schedule now if I come up with a dumb excuse?”

You rolled your eyes. “Nah, I don’t think she will, and even if she did, why would you want to be in a class with that nerd?”

Mark was sitting by himself at a table in the corner, he was reading a book while chewing chicken tenders.

Haechan pouted. “But just look at him..I bet he’s the best kisser, do you see those lips?”

“Ew Haechan! He’s my partner in class, I don’t want to think about his lips!” You gagged and started to peel your banana.

Mark could hear you, he could hear everyone’s conversations in the cafeteria for little did you know of his secret.

“So you’re telling me you wouldn’t give him a chance, even though you gave a notorious school douchebag named Jeno one?” Haechan glared at you.

You kicked his shin under the table. “We don’t say that name here anymore.”

Haechan hissed. “You’re closer than I’ll ever be to that cutie..you better take advantage of that, I bet he’s super nice too.” He rested his chin in his hands as he swooned over Mark.

You rolled your eyes then locked eye contact with Mark just as you stuffed the banana into your mouth. You were frozen. The banana was about halfway in and Mark never let your eyes go.

You chomped on it and looked away.

Mark giggled and went back to reading his book.

“You open your mouth pretty wide for a girl that doesn’t know how to use it..” Jeno snickered as he walked by your table.

Your mouth was full so you couldn’t come up with a quick comeback, but luckily, that’s what Haechan was there for.

“Oh, shut up, big head. Like you could fill anyone’s mouth with that chicken nugget of a wee wee!”

You nearly choked and covered your mouth as you laughed.

Mark, who was over 30 feet away, laughed too.

Jeno quickly turned around to walk back to your table, but ended up colliding into Taeyong, the scary and filthy rich senior that everyone stayed away from.

Him and his posse, complete with Yuta and Johnny, were tall seniors that gave everyone death glares. Even the teachers weren’t safe. Taeyong’s father was the wealthiest man in town, he was a kingpin so he possessed a lot of power.

Jeno raised his hands. “Whoa, bro, I’m sorry.”

Taeyong steadied himself and pulled his hands out of his pockets. The entire cafeteria froze, you all had never seen anyone get in their way. Taeyong walked around in black clothing and never took his hands out of his pockets for it ruined his nonchalant attitude.

The black haired boy crossed his arms and stepped towards Jeno.

“If I were in the mood..I’d tell you to get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness..” his intense gaze made Jeno tremble. Hell, even you swallowed hard from fear.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Taeyong’s mouth tilted into a smile, he rubbed his thumb along the side of Jeno’s face. Johnny and Yuta stood behind him while they smirked and chuckled at Jeno’s subordinance.

“I know it won’t.”

He walked away and out of the cafeteria.

Jeno scurried back to his group of friends while the rest of the students resumed their lunch.

Mark didn’t like the sound of this guy. He knew who his father was and he knew that he would be the only that could stop him and save the innocent lives threatened by him.

Later that day, you were getting ready to leave school when Haechan popped up behind your locker as you closed it.

“Shit!” You jumped when he popped up.

He cackled. “You know, for someone that watches a lot of horror films, you sure do get scared pretty easily.”

You huffed and swung your backpack over your shoulder. You didn’t notice Mark behind you and your bag nearly smacked him in the face, but thanks to his senses, he ducked quickly.

“Y/n!” Haechan saw Mark behind you.

“What?” You said as you turned.

Mark was there behind you, squatting below you awkwardly and looking up at your face.

You furrowed your brows. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get a peak of something down there?”

Mark shot up straight and shook his head.

“N-no, no I’m sorry I was just..I know we are a little behind..but I was wondering if you wanted to work on the project together after..school, or-or something..” he looked nervous to talk to you. He kept looking to the side to dodge your eyes.

“I can’t today..I’m-“

Haechan butt in excitedly. “Oh! That works perfectly! Y/n, I was actually coming to tell you that I can’t go to the movies tonight! I have to do some extra work with my partner too! We can all study at Starbucks!”

You turned to him and glared. ‘What the hell’ you mouthed.

His eyes grew. ‘Just say yes’ he mouthed while nodding towards Mark.

Mark still looked to the side.

“Fine..meet us at the Starbucks on 10th at 5..loser.” You gripped the strap of your bag while walking away.

Mark chuckled at the nickname you gave him. He thought you were different, cute, but different.

At Starbucks, Mark was there before you were and ordered coffee for you.

“For me?” Your eyes widened.

Mark nodded and smiled widely. “Yeah! I don’t know if you like cream or sugar, so I got it black but everything is over there if you-“

You giggled and Mark swore he saw heaven when you smiled. “I know how it works, Mark, thank you for this.”

You rarely said his name, but he felt weak when you did.

Haechan and his lab partner joined the two of you. You did some more research for your project and talked about it while Mark jotted down important notes.

Haechan and his partner, Renjun, were supposed to be doing the same thing, but Haechan was too busy staring at Mark’s eyes.

“Haechan..Haechan!” Renjun tapped his hand.

They continued to work and as everyone got more tired, you noticed that Mark wasn’t jotting down notes like he did in the beginning. He was watching you talk, he liked watching your lips move and hearing your soothing voice. His eyes were locked on your face; it made your heart tremble.

“Mark?” You raised your brows and bit your bottom lip.

“Yeah..yeah!” He shook his head to come out of his daze.

“Did you catch anything I said? You've been staring for at least five minutes now..”

“I was..focusing.” Mark averted his gaze to the ceiling.

You shook your head. “You’re weird, Potter.”

Mark licked his lips and looked at the table. “I’m sorry I’m just a bit tired..”

“Me too! I think we should call it a night!” Haechan stretched his arms out and up high.

He cleared his throat as you all started to pack your things away.

“Mark..so we’re all going to the movies to see that new horror film, “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” tomorrow. Wanna come?”

You kicked his shin again.

“Mark doesn’t like horror movies.”

Mark scratched the back of his head. “Well, I only said I don’t watch them, not that I don’t like them..”

You sighed.

“Perfect! So we’ll see you tomorrow at 8! This is so exciting, it feels like a date!”

“Haechan!” You stood up from the table, glaring into his skull once again.

He shrugged his shoulders and stood up too. The four of you walked towards the door.

Mark only laughed awkwardly.

“Hey.. y/n..”

You paused and turned around. “Yeah?”

“Will you be alright..getting home at this time?”

You laughed out. “I’m fine..I take the bus at this time all the time!”

Mark nodded.

He was caring and it was strange for you, for someone to genuinely care about you for the first time in a while.

He had his own car. An old Hyundai that got him where he needed to be. He had parked it outside of the Starbucks.

He waited with you at the bus stop right outside. Haechan took Renjun home.

“We can wait in my car if you want..it’s kinda cold out here.” He asked as you pushed your hands into your hoodie and shivered.

“My mother told me to never get in cars with strangers.” You turned to him and smiled.

He chuckled and stepped forward on his toes.

“Well, if that’s what you consider me to be then..I won’t push you..”

You shook your head. “Mark..you’re weird..I was just teasing, take me to your chariot before I freeze to death, please.”

You got into his car and the two of you sat in silence.

You checked your phone and saw that your bus was running about 20 minutes late.

You sighed and leaned back into his car seat.

“Do you like this town so far?” You looked out the window as you spoke.

Mark loved being near you, you calmed him down and his senses didn’t go crazy like they usually did. Sometimes everything was so unbearable, but not when he was around you. He was happy that no one was in danger while he spent the evening with you.

“It’s..alright..” he spoke honestly, finding it difficult to lie about how he struggled to adjust to his new life, without his uncle, without his hometown friends, without his “normal, super power-less” life. He had been bitten by a spider and given these powers just a few months before moving.

“Do you miss your friends?”

“Of course..” he swallowed hard as he remembered playing basketball with his buddies.

“And your girlfriend..”

You let it slip out before thinking. Why did you care?

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend..”

You turned to him with bunched up brows. “Boyfriend?”

Mark giggled. “I don’t have either..why do you ask?”

He smirked as he tilted his head.

You scoffed. “Oh, Potter, don’t give me that look..I just wanna know more about you.”

“What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

You swallowed hard. “Well..I think this town is boring..my parents are divorced and missing half the time..I broke up with my asshat of a boyfriend, Jeno, before school started..and now I’m stuck here with the school loser.”

“Stuck?” Mark raised his brows. “You can jump out any time you want and stand in the cold.”

You put your hand on the door handle but he quickly leaned over and placed his hand on yours. Your breath hit his neck. He turned to you with wide eyes as he realized that he was actually touching you.

You froze.

He froze as well. “I’m..I’m kidding, you shouldn’t leave until your bus gets here.”

He sat down in his seat and cleared his throat but you still felt his soft hand on your skin.

You chuckled. “You’re so strange, Mark. I guess it’s a Canada thing.”

“I like..spending time with you, if I’m being honest. I don’t have many friends here but you’re..cool.”

You turned to him. “Cool?? You think I’m cool?”

Mark put his head on the steering wheel and sighed, realizing the mistake he made. “Why did I say that?”

“Haha! Potter! You can’t take it back!”

The two of you spoke about music and entertainment. You told Mark that you were happy to see that he was going to try a horror movie with you tomorrow. You finally opened up to him as he did to you also.

You both laughed and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

He was a breath of fresh air in this town.

————

[The Next Day]

“It’s going to start in 5 minutes, where is he?” Haechan huffed as he looked at his watch.

You stood at the front of the movie theatre and looked around for Mark, but he was nowhere to be found. Was he really ditching you? You bought him a ticket and popcorn which had gotten cold by now. The ads that played before the movie were almost done. Haechan gave up and went into the theatre with Renjun. You stood there alone, awkwardly waiting like someone that was being stood up for their date. You looked at your phone but there were no texts or calls from Mark.

“Hey, I know you..” a voice spoke out from behind you.

You felt a sense of relief.

That was, until you turned and saw him.

Taeyong stood there with his hands in his midnight black trench coat, his hair was neatly parted to the side and two gold chains dazzled around his pretty neck.

“Are you alone?” He stepped towards you, a chill ran through your body and it wasn’t because of the temperature outside.

Your face fell, you stepped backwards away from him.

“I’m—I’m fine, thank you.”

Taeyong smirked when he saw your face of worry. He looked smug, dangerously handsome and cool.

“Whoever it is you’re waiting for...they’d be a fool not to show up..” his voice was deep, giving you goosebumps as you stared.

Was he flirting with you?

You laughed awkwardly.

A girl in a thin black body con dress walked up to him and grabbed his arm.

“Ready, babe?” She flipped her hair as she stared at him, but he still looked at you.

You felt bad for her. Yeah, she looked good, but at the cost of freezing in 20°F weather? Not even a gorgeous man like Taeyong was worth that.

“Sure..” he said smoothly.

They both walked into the theatre. You followed soon after. You found Haechan and Renjun and joined them. Haechan gave you a questioning look but you shook your head.

Mark never showed up.

He was too busy stopping a robbery downtown. It was him against 7 heavyweight champions trying to rob a bank. They were Kingpin’s men, but Mark used his web to bind them to the counters until police came.

By the time he finished, the movie was almost halfway done.

He sighed and grabbed his mask off while in a dark alleyway. He unlocked his phone.

You to Mark: where are you, loser? The popcorn is getting cold.

He smiled to himself. You got him popcorn, one of his faves.

You to Mark: gonna eat this by myself if you don’t show..

The next text message was a picture of Sour Patch Kids candy, the watermelon kind that he also loved.

You actually remembered him telling you he liked watermelons one day in class.

He closed his eyes and cursed quietly. He wanted to get close to you, but he was already messing things up.

————

[The Following Monday]

You threw your backpack down and sat in your seat in class.

Mark walked in soon after.

“You ignored my texts..” he said softly.

You ignored him and put your Bluetooth earbuds in.

He sighed then looked at his notebook.

“So you’re just not gonna talk to me?”

You bobbed your head and started writing as music played.

Mark looked around. Everyone had their heads down, they were either writing in their books or reading. So he put his hand behind his back, he quickly shot a web out to your ear bud. It malfunctioned and suddenly stopped working.

You took it out and looked at it.

“What the hell..” you whispered, genuinely confused as to why it burnt up while actually in your ear.

“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t show up on Friday, but something happened..I wanted to be there, and—“

You finally turned to him. “Yeah, you chickened out. I’m sure you had better plans for your Friday night than to watch a stupid horror movie with me.”

Mark frowned. “No, no it’s not like that at all.” He wanted to be there with you and watch your face as you enjoyed something dear to you, he wanted to share popcorn and gummies, but those moments are a part of normal life for a normal teenager. He couldn’t have that.

“Really?” You raised your brows and placed your head in your hand. “I know what being second place in someone’s life feels like, Mark. It’s the same crap my parents and my ex put me through..I won’t go through it again.”

Mark shook his head and leaned towards you.

“I’m not like them, I’m here for you, give me a second chance..”

“Hey! Less talking about the weekend, more writing about science!” Your teacher called out.

When class ended, Mark followed you through the halls.

“I had something personal to take care of, y/n. Can we see a movie tomorrow or something?”

You shook your head and gripped the strap of your backpack. “There aren’t any movies out right now that I’m interested in..”

“Okay, umm how about a pumpkin patch?!”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “What are we? 10 years old?” You scoffed and turned to walk then bumped into someone’s broad chest.

You looked up slowly. It was him. “Oh..I’m sorry.” You exhaled.

“Be careful, I might just bite next time..” Taeyong’s smile gave you the creeps. It bothered you that you were seeing him more frequently.

Mark took your hand suddenly. “Hey..we’re gonna be late.” He spoke firmly and glared before taking you out of Taeyong’s sight.

Mark kept pressing you for a second chance as you continued to walk to the cafeteria.

“Okay, fine. Umm there’s this Halloween party this Friday, I don’t really want to go, but-“

“Let’s go! We can get something to eat after, my treat!”

You nodded quickly just so he’d leave you alone.

“Okay, Mark, let’s just get through this week.”

———

[Friday Night]

Haechan helped you out of his car when you got to the party. You wore a tight white dress and a feathery halo along with a small pair of wings.

You looked amazing with glittery makeup and white heels as your accessories.

Haechan dressed as a zombie and did a spectacular job on his makeup. He looked like he had really been bitten on the neck and the virus had spread throughout, leaving him grey with purple and green veins throughout his face.

You pulled your dress down and waited in the kitchen for Mark.

You grabbed yourself a beer and cracked it open.

Haechan drank with you as well.

He swallowed hard. “The nice refreshing taste of piss.”

“Yup, seems about right.” You winced and put the can down.

“Well, well..it seems the Virgin angel has arrived.” Jeno walked in behind you and grabbed a beer. He was dressed as a devil. The two of you had long since talked about dressing as the angel & devil pair for Halloween as a couple, but now that you had broken up, you didn’t think that he'd still do it.

You rolled your eyes. “What happened? Were your natural horns not enough?”

Jeno chuckled and tilted his head. “We’re playing 7 minutes in Heaven next..I’d ask you to join, but I know you’re just a teaser, never a pleaser.”

You scoffed, but Haechan jumped in.

“That’s what your little friend over there said last night when you pulled your pants down.”

Jeno flipped him the bird and walked away.

You went to the bathroom and checked your makeup. You looked wonderful, your boobs stuck out and your dress hugged your curves perfectly. You rarely dressed like this but it was nice to look and feel..pretty., you quickly fixed your lipstick and left.

As you turned the corner, you ran into him again.

“Ahhh..perfect timing, I did say I would bite you the next time we ran into each other.” Taeyong’s eyes widened.

You backed away and laughed.

He was dressed fittingly as a vampire. He was dark and mysterious like one, so you weren’t surprised. He looked even more handsome than usual in his dark eye makeup complete with black liner and red eyeshadow.

But the way he stared made you..uneasy.

His gaze trailed from your lips to your cleavage as he eyed you up and down.

You stood there in silence.

“Do you—“ he started to pose a question as he stepped forward but his girl walked up and hugged him from behind.

She squeezed him gently, but Taeyong looked annoyed. “Let’s go upstairs, baby…” she said lowly while looking into your eyes with an evil glare.

Haechan came and grabbed your hand. You turned away from the two love birds and followed him, never once worrying about what Taeyong had to say again.

“He’s here!” You heard Haechan gasp.

Mark walked in. He was wearing a...Spider-Man costume.

You giggled at how cute he looked in it. You saw his cute little butt as he spun around looking for you through the crowd in the house.

You raised your hand. “Mark!” You called out to him.

He finally saw you and started to walk over.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. He was adorable as he giggled.

“Why Spider-Man?”

He shrugged. “Eh—I like the way my butt looks.”

You laughed and took his hand to the living room where a few people sat on the floor a circle.

They spun a bottle and whoever it landed on would be placed in a closet for 7 minutes in heaven.

Two members from the group were missing so you and Mark took their spots as they did whatever they were doing in the closet. He helped you squat down while pulling your dress down your thighs.

You rolled your eyes as Jeno held his new girl crush close to him. If he wanted to be with her in the closet, why did he sit beside her? You thought to yourself.

Everyone took turns spinning the bottle and when it got to you, you spun it fast, hoping that it wouldn’t land on someone that you knew, that way it would be just as awkward for the both of you.

Mark watched the bottle spin and based on the speed and rotation of the beer bottle, he knew that one end would end up pointing to you and the other would point to..Jeno.

As it spun, he placed his hand behind his back.

He looked up and pointed to the kitchen with his other hand.

“Oh my god, what is that?!” He yelled, causing everyone to turn to look at whatever he was pointing at.

You turned as well, so Mark quickly shot a small squirt of his web to increase the speed a little.

“What are you talking about?” You asked when you turned back to him. Everyone else turned back too.

“Oh, I could’ve sworn I saw a rat..maybe it was a decoration.” He shrugged his shoulders.

The bottle slowed down to a halt and just as you dreaded. It landed on you and..Mark.

Jeno laughed out loudly.

“What’s so funny?” Mark gave him a look of annoyance.

“It’s just that..she’s the biggest prude I know, good luck bro, she doesn’t give it up.”

“Maybe because she doesn’t want to..I mean, have you thought about how much of an asshole you are?” Haechan spat out.

Mark looked at you as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Y/n..you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to..”

Jeno chuckled again.

You didn’t really want to be this close with Mark, but you had to. You had to prove Jeno wrong, even if you and Mark did nothing but stare at each other. You wanted Jeno to know that you weren’t a prude like he thought.

You stood up and nodded. “Let’s go..”

The two of you stood in the tight closet awkwardly.

The light was dim, but you saw Mark’s features clearly. His dainty nose and high cheekbones, his wide eyes and cute lips. He looked to the side nervously.

The truth was, you looked amazing in your dress. He felt his face become warm when he looked at your cleavage. The glitter made your skin sparkle even more than it usually did.

“So…” you stepped up and down. “I’m glad you came..”

“I’m glad I came too.” He swallowed hard. “Oh.. that, uhh, sounded weird, I’m sorry..”

“Mark..” you giggled. “You don’t have to be awkward, it’s me..it’s just that I’m wearing tight clothing for once..”

He chuckled and looked into your eyes. He raised an eyebrow, making your stomach weak.

“It’s not just that..” his voice is lower, quieter so no one can hear the two of you.

“What is it then?” You smirk.

He stares at your lips and as he’s about to answer a red alarm blares out in his head. His senses are tingling, someone is in trouble.

He squints and turns away. “I-i have to go…”

You step forward. “What? Are you..okay?”

You place your hands on his shoulder.

He loves the touch but can’t stop this nagging feeling. He had to go where his mind told him to go, he had to tend to whatever needed him or else he'd go insane from the noise.

“I can’t explain it, it’s like a migraine, I..just have to go.”

He turns to head through the closet door but you step in front of him.

“Mark, if you leave it’ll just prove Jeno right. Please just 5 more minutes, I’m sure you can stand being with me for just that.”

“I can’t. I have to go.”

You scoff and continue to block the door. “What? Do you have to run home to your aunt or something? Are you out too late?”

Mark shakes his head. “Y/n..it’s not that, I just—“

“Gotta be a good boy and go home now?” You teased him to buy time. You really didn’t want Jeno to gain any satisfaction from learning that the two of you did nothing.

“Y/n..” he looked intensely into your eyes. His eyes then floated down to your lips as he watched you nag at him.

“Mark, what is it with you? You bailed on me last time! Do you hate being around me or what?”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you hard and sudden.

Your back hit the closet door causing it to swing open.

But Mark didn’t care, he still held your face close to his and caressed your mouth. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of him on you. The way his tongue traced over your bottom lip for permission to enter, the way his nose poked your cheek.

You opened your mouth and turned your head to deepen the kiss.

Sparks flew between you and you both felt giddy. Blood rushed through your veins. Mark’s senses were calmed for a bit as they focused on what he felt right now with you. The building tension and the satisfying release.

You fell into him more and more. Even as the others cheered while watching, the two of you were consumed by each other.

You feel butterflies flying around without any intention of stopping and then..he pulls away. Your eyes open and you see your red lipstick all over the handsome boy’s mouth, confirming that what felt like a wonderful dream was actually a reality.

He stares at you through low eyes and licks his lips while panting.

Your lips are still parted while you too breathe heavily.

Your eyes are round and beg for more. Mark wants it too.

You look at his lips and lean forward, but he backs away and swallows hard.

“Catch ya later!” He runs out of the house as you stand there in shock.

Haechan’s mouth falls open.

“Oh...shit.”

———-

[The Next Day]

Taeyong listened to his father complain about the new superhero in town while at dinner.

“I don’t know where this little shit came from but he’s ruining EVERYTHING. We can’t get a simple delivery done without him popping up.”

Kingpin slams his fork down.

“He shoots a web here, he shoots a web there, and suddenly, my men are down and out! Tell me how that makes sense?”

“I’m sure they will stop him soon, he’ll get tired and give up.” Taeyong’s mother continued eating.

“Christ, I’m stressed and then we get a call from your teacher saying that you’re not showing up for class?!”

His father turned his attention to him while pointing a finger.

Taeyong shrugged.

“What the hell you moving your shoulders for? Answer me!”

Taeyong puts his fork down and sighs. “That class is a waste of time..”

“No, the only thing that’s being wasted is MY time and MY effort to get you to good college, you think I want you to end up like me?” His father’s voice rose.

“Is that such a bad thing?” A smirk fell across Taeyong’s face, irritating his father.

“Listen to me, boy, you could never handle the shit i handle, so DONT even think about it. You take your sorry ass to class and you graduate and go to college. Make something of that pea-sized brain of yours.”

“Honey..” his mom placed her hand on his father’s, but he lifted it and waved her off.

“Don’t! He’s like this because you spoil him. He’s a spoiled little brat.”

Taeyong continued eating, he was used to being insulted by his father.

“Dont speak like that, you’re just stressed because of Spider-Man, dear.”

“Shut it! You know that it’s true, you know he’s worthless!”

He stood up and gave Taeyong a frightening glare.

“You got one chance to prove me wrong, boy, make one more mistake and you’re out and on the streets with the druggies!” He huffed and left the dining room.

Taeyong sat quietly, gripping his fork in his fist and thinking about what to do. How could he prove to his father that he would be able to take over the business?

———-

[Monday]

You didn’t say a word to Mark for the first few minutes of class.

It was awkward but Mark didn’t seem to be bothered. He simply did his work in his notebook while listening to his music.

While the teacher was busy, you turned to him.

“Mark?” You whispered and leaned forward to get his attention.

“Mark?”

He still moved his head to the music.

You tapped his shoulder.

He turned to you with large eyes and took his headphones out.

“Yeah?” He said innocently.

“What do you mean by “yeah?” Are we not going to talk about the party?”

Mark smirked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You nodded. “Mark, what was that about?” You knew what it was, you felt it every time you looked at each other. You had a developing crush on the boy you called a loser, you were just trying to hide it but it was becoming difficult as he was perfect in every way.

His cute eyes, nice lips, beautiful brown hair..you loved it all.

But most of all, you loved how sweet and caring he was, how he spoke to you and made you feel like you were the center of the universe as his entire focus rested on you.

He licked his lips. “I...did that to help you prove your boyfriend wrong.”

You blinked rapidly. “That was the only reason?”

“Um..yeahhh.” Mark looked to the side and moved his head in a “duh” motion.

“Oh..okay..” you looked down at your notebook and continued writing, feeling disappointed. But what did you expect? For Mark to confess his love for you? What a bizarre thought. You shook it off.

Later that day when you were at lunch, Haechan asked you about Mark.

“So what did he say?” He asked with his mouth full.

“He said he was just covering for me.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Ahhh..I doubt it though, you guys made out like..really made out, it was sexy. If I knew you could kiss like that, I would’ve kissed you a long time ago.” he raises his eyebrows.

You made a look of disgust. “Ew! As if!”

You and Haechan giggled and continued eating.

You looked over at Mark’s usual eating spot in the cafeteria, but he wasn’t there.

“Where’s that big head, Jeno?” Haechan tilted his head when he realized that Jeno didn’t pass by for his usual snarky comment session.

“Hmm that’s a good question, I don’t see Mark either.”

“Oooo..are you waiting for a round two with him?” Haechan teased, but something didn’t feel right.

You stood up. “Hey, I’ll be right back.”

Haechan nodded and you turned away to walk around the halls.

You peaked down all of the corridors looking for him.

You eventually went outside to the soccer field and heard whimpering behind the bleachers.

You walked towards it and saw three boys gathered around another boy in the middle. The boy in the middle was crouching down and holding his stomach.

You walked faster.

“Give me his glasses!” You heard one of the boys say.

“He had these ugly things on and still couldn’t see us coming..”

You recognized the voice.

It was Jeno. As you got closer you saw Jeno raise his foot to kick at the boy on the ground, and to your surprise, it was Mark.

“Shit…” you ran closer, but Mark grabbed Jeno’s foot and threw him to the floor.

Your eyes grew as Jeno’s back pummeled down into the ground with so much force, you swore the floor shook. How was Mark that strong?

Jeno groaned in pain. The other two boys stared in shock before turning back to Mark and delivering blows to his chest.

Mark couldn’t take on the two of them.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” He called out to them, he was holding back for their safety.

“Hey!” You yelled as you got closer.

“Oh..look who showed up..the school slut..” Jeno said as he stood up straight and winced from the pain in his back.

“You gave it up to the new guy, y/n? Wow, I guess you are like your mother..”

“Hey!” Mark called out to him, but the other two boys held him up by the arms to keep him from hitting Jeno again. Jeno balled his fists up and was about to hit Mark in the chest.

“You’re an asshole, Jeno!” You ran up to him and swung hard, landing a clean punch to the side of his unexpecting face.

“Hey, what the hell is going on here?!” Vice Principal Kim called out.

“Shit.” You held your hand as a stinging pain shot through it.

The two boys let go of Mark and ran, leaving you, Mark, and Jeno to the mercy of the vice principal.

You sat in detention with a wrapped hand. Mark sat a few desks behind you and Jeno sat in front with a pretty black eye.

You are proud of yourself for doing something you should’ve done to him long ago.

You watched the clock tick for an hour as you sat there with nothing to do.

Mark felt terrible for getting you involved, he would’ve handled it on his own but you jumped in to help him and now you were hurt.

After detention, you grabbed your backpack and left without talking to Mark.

“Hey..” he ran up to you.

“Hey..I’m sorry..about that, I didn’t want you to get involved..”

“It’s not your fault, Mark, it’s just that..I’d rather be alone right now..” you had to walk home after missing the last bus.

“I’ll drive you home, it’s the least I can do.”

You turned to him and raised your brows.

“Without your glasses? Can you even see my face right now?”

Mark laughed. “Actually..I have something to tell you…”

“Go on..”

“I don’t need the glasses, I just like it when you call me Potter.”

A smile creeped across your face as you felt it become warm. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Mark drove you home as the two of you talked about Jeno’s look of shock.

“His face was priceless!” Mark scrunched his nose up and laughed gloriously.

You enjoyed watching him laugh, and without his glasses, he looked even more handsome.

You reached home and sighed. “Ahh..great, now I have to explain to my parents why my hand is swollen..”

Mark lifted your wrapped hand gently. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?” He bunched his brows up.

“And if it did, could you take the pain away?” You smirked.

Mark nodded. “I wish I could..”

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I took boxing class in the 9th grade..” you teased him but his eyes widened.

“Boxing class?! That is so cool!”

You giggled. “Mark, you’re so gullible!”

“Oh..” he looked down in defeat and blushed.

A moment of silence rested between the two of you.

You stared at his lips. “Well..I should get going..”

Mark parked across the street from your house so your parents wouldn’t see you coming out of a strange car.

You unbuckled yourself seat belt.

“Hey..” Mark said softly.

You turned back to him and watched his parted lips.

He leaned in closer as you swallowed hard. He was so close, just a few more inches.

Your phone rang out and you looked down.

Shit, Haechan texted you.

Mark smiled and leaned back into his seat. “I’m sorry, um..thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, Potter.” You winked and got out of the car.

He got out of the car and watched you head home.

But his spidey senses started to blare, something was coming, but you were texting on your phone as you crossed the street.

Everything happened in slow motion. The pick up truck speeding towards you, the steps you took to cross the road. You were moving too slow.

He had calculated it all. If he ran to you, he’d be too late, if he jumped in front of the truck he’d be too late and he’d get hurt.

There was only once thing he could do given the amount of time he had.

He stretched his arm out, flicked his wrist and shot a long sticky string out to your back. Once it latched itself onto your jacket, he yanked you back hard.

The truck sped by right in front of your eyes as you gripped your phone and looked up. You didn’t know what was happening or why you were flying backwards all of a sudden.

Your heart races, but soon you were in Mark’s arms. The truck came to a screeching halt once the driver realized that he almost hit you.

He spun you around to face him, not realizing that you were now entangled in his web.

You look terrified. “M-Mark..what the—“ you were out of breath, you looked down and saw the strings coming out of his skin.

Mark’s eyes widened as he looked down as well. The truck sped off after realizing that you were okay. It was just the two of you now, standing there in shock.

“Y/n…”

You let out a shakey breath. “Y-You're..him..You're—“

He put a finger over his lips. “Shhh..you can’t tell anyone.”

“S-spider-Man? THE Spider-Man??”

Mark nodded slowly.

Your mouth dropped.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Mark looked into your eyes and pleaded, his arms still held you tight to his chest.

You nodded but no sound came out.

He licked his lips and smiled. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Mark..holy shit, I’m gonna..”

“Please don’t pass out on me, I don’t want to carry you to your parents while you’re unconscious..”

“But Mark..I mean, you’re like.. a superhero..that’s so cool.” You grinned and still looked at him through surprised eyes.

Mark blushed. “You think I’m cool?”

“Oh, my God why did I say that?” You rolled your eyes.

Mark looked at your lips and it was your time to kiss him.

You placed your lips on his while taking his face in your hands. He hugged you tighter and kissed you back, diving into you like you were a breath of fresh air that he needed. You both closed your eyes and embraced the moment as your pulses ran fast and eventually matched.

You stood there for a few minutes while kissing and hugging like you were in a movie.

Neither you nor Mark noticed a car that was parked 50 feet away.

But not just anyone’s car, Taeyong’s car.

He had trailed Mark’s car after he saw the two of you leaving school. He had nothing better to do and just wanted to see what the two of you were up to, but then he saw how the web shot out of Mark’s hand quickly and how you flew back into him. He saved your life, all while thinking that no one would see him.

But he was wrong, and now Taeyong knew what he needed to do.

———

[The Next Week]

You and Mark hadn’t things official yet, you both were scared for what would happen to your friendship. But that didn’t mean that you didn’t want to kiss him for hours on end.

Mark felt the same way. You had been paired up with someone else at a different table in class. The two of you were now departed and he wasn’t happy about that so he made sure to keep an eye on you.

You finally ate together too. Haechan had his suspicions when he saw the two of you smiling at each other for no reason, but he didn’t say anything.

Then one day, you didn’t show up to class.

Mark texted you the entire night before and even sent you tik toks to laugh at. He knew you were fine and if you were skipping class, you’d definitely let him know. You didn’t respond to the texts he sent during the day.

His spidey senses tingled, he knew something was up.

He called you while at lunch. And to his surprise, you answered.

“Y/n? Where are you?”

There was silence over the line for a brief moment, then you sniffled. “Hey, Mark. I’m home today, I just needed..a break.”

Mark paused. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Mark, I’ll see you later. Please don’t come and look for me.”

“H-“ he started but you had already hung up.

He pursed his lips and looked intensely at his screen. Something was definitely up and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out what it was.

So after his last class, he headed to your house and knocked at the door.

When you didn’t answer, he walked around the house, looking for a way to get in without causing any damage.

He eventually found an open window on the second floor and after looking around to make sure no one was watching, he climbed up the side of the house and entered through it.

He stood up straight and saw that he was in your room, but you weren’t there.

Then he saw what looked to be a body under the blanket on your bed.

“Y/n?”

He quickly lifted the blanket and jumped in horror. It was a slide-sized Spider-Man action figure.

He had a sticky note on his face that pressed “press my belly button.”

Mark pressed the button and heard it speak through its fake mouth.

“Oh, hello, Spider-Man, or should I call you Mark?”

His eyes widened as the male voice spoke.

“Well..it doesn’t really matter..see, I’ve got your lovely girlfriend here with me..”

Mark here’s your muffled screaming in the background.

He grits his teeth.

“And she is here, waiting for you at the very top of the largest building in the city. I know you’re new here, but I’m sure you can find it.”

Mark curses to himself, he was caught with you and by some bastard that he didn’t know. Did Kingpin have his men follow him?

“Oh, and that nice friend of her’s, hmmm Haechan is it? He’s outside her house, but he’s probably all tied up.. don’t be late, Markipoo, we wouldn’t want y/n to hang out with me much longer..”

The recording stops playing. Mark runs out of the house, but stops in his tracks.

He’s too late.

Johnny and Yuta stand beside Haechan’s car. Haechan has JI mouth covered by a piece of fabric but his eyes are open and wet with tears.

He lets out a loud scream when he hears Mark.

They tied him to the hood of the car while the engine runs. He was literally tied up.

“Hey!” Mark calls out and runs towards them, but Johnny places a brick onto the gas pedal and puts the car in drive.

Haechan screams even louder as the car rolls down the hill fast.

Mark runs after it, struggling to keep up as it speeds down the street.

Johnny and Yuta stand back and laugh.

Mark had to find a way to beat, he had to calculate his speed so he could overrun it and stop it. Or he could shoot webs out from the back and pull it towards him.

His mind runs at 100mph as it goes through every possibility while he pants and runs.

“Haechan! Don’t worry! I’ve got you!”

The car is too heavy, and it’s going too fast, so he can’t hold it with his spiderweb material.

He leaps forward and up into the air, landing just a few feet in front of the incoming car.

He puts his hands in front of him and braces for impact. He had never taken on such a huge task before, he prayed that he would be strong enough to take a 4,000 pound car going at 80 miles per hour.

He grunts and presses forward onto the top of the car, causing it to make a loud skrrt sound and a huge dent to form. He uses his legs for stability as he struggles to stop it from going any further.

But he slides downward in his two feet.

“Shit.shit.shit.shit” he murmurs out.

Haechan cries to the heavens for help.

Mark pushes forward even harder while gritting his teeth. He lifts the hood slightly.

With a loud groan and harsh grip, he tears the engine out to stop the car.

The wheels slow to a halt and Mark places the car down.

He stumbles on his feet and nearly passes out, but he had to keep moving, he had to find you.

So he quickly puts his mask on before people come outside of their homes to see what the ruckus is about, then he unties Haechan.

“Oh my God..oh my God, what the hell?!”

Haechan panics and shakes.

“Mark, you’re—you’re..the guy..”

“Haechan, we can talk about this later. What is the tallest building and where can I find it?”

Haechan points in the direction of the tallest building in the town. It’s 1,000 feet high and is owned by none other than Kingpin.

Mark’s eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw.

He swings through town quickly to get to you.

Once at the building, he decided that it would be faster to climb.

Meanwhile, Taeyong has you tied up and gagged.

Tears stream down your face.

“It’s such a shame things had to be this way..I kinda liked you.” Taeyong strokes your cheek with his thumb.

His phone rings.

“What is it?”

“He should be there soon.”

You hear a man’s voice say on the other line.

Taeyong gives a devilish smile and looks back at you as he hangs up.

“Perfect.” He winks.

He steps forward to you and takes your bound wrists in his hand. He takes your gag off with the other.

“Would you like to beg for your life now?”

“Fuck you, Taeyong! I never did anything to you!”

Taeyong smiles when you curse. “You’re right. All you did was go to class and look pretty...oh and decide to date a superhero. You had to expect us to use you as leverage.”

You shook your head. “Taeyong, you’re not like your father, you’re better than him! Please don’t do this.”

Wind blew your hair back as Taeyong had opened one of the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor.

Taeyong’s smile fell when you mentioned his father.

“I know I’m better than him, sweetheart, I get right to the source of my problems.”

He strokes your cheek again. “You know..you’re a lot prettier when you don’t speak, but right now..I want you to scream for me.”

He suddenly pushes you out the window but grabs the end of the rope that has tied your hands up.

You let out a blood curdling scream as you stare down as the tiny people and cars so far below you. You cry even harder.

“Just like that, sweetheart, you sound beautiful.”

He smirks and ties the rope to a pole to keep your body dangling.

“Mark!!” You cry out when you see him in his Spider-Man suit climbing up the building towards you.

“No! Don’t come any closer! It’s a trap!!” You try to stop him but Mark doesn’t stop, you’re right there and he has to get to you.

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout..” Taeyong sings to himself as he picks up his father’s machine gun.

He aims it out of the window and at Mark.

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

He pulls back on the trigger, allowing bullets to fly in the direction of the crawling Spider-Man.

“Mark!!” You cry out once again as Mark let’s go with one hand and dangles with the other. He quickly moves from side to side to dodge the bullets.

He regains his position and continues climbing.

“Oh, he’s a stubborn spider.” Taeyong grins and unloads on him again, this time never stopping.

He moves it from side to side to catch him.

A bullet flies right over Mark, breaking his suit and cutting his skin. He curses then looks back up.

He had to pay attention, he had to get to you.

Taeyong goes maniacal with the gun but he just can’t seem to get him.

He stops when he’s out of bullets and Mark is just a few feet away.

You think he’s given up because he’s lost, but Taeyong got just what he wanted.

“Okay, sweetheart..” he unties the rope from the pole and holds it in his hands. “It’s time to fly like the beautiful angel you are.”

You look back at him with wide eyes. “Taeyong!”

He lets go of the rope. You fall out through the window fast and past Mark.

Mark throws his head into your direction and leaps off of the building towards you.

He tries to fly down fast but he can’t keep up with your falling body, he’s so close but he can’t get to you.

You cry and think about your life, you never imagined this would be how you’d die.

You see Mark coming after you with all his strength, you know he’s doing his best. But it was impossible, there’s no way he’d get to you in time.

And so you felt yourself lose consciousness.

Your head fell back and your body fell limply.

“No, no, no, no don’t give up on me!” Mark yells and stretches his arms out, he shoots two strings from his wrists.

They latch onto you, he pulls back as hard as he can, your body flying into his arms as he still falls down the side of the building.

He spins around and shoots another string onto the building. His fall stops abruptly and his body flings itself into the glass. He holds you in his arms to protect you from the shattered glass.

You both fall onto the floor of an office. People jump up and yell in shock.

“Oh my god..it’s Spider-Man.” a few people say with gasps.

But Mark is focused on you. He doesn’t feel the pain from the impact, for his heart breaks for you. He unties your hands and holds one of them in his own.

“Y/n..y/n.. please talk to me..” leans over you and shakes you gently. Your body lies limply. Your mouth is slightly parted and your eyes are still closed. He hears a faint heartbeat.

He starts to tear up when you don’t respond.

“Y/n, I’m sorry..” he lifts his mask off and kisses you on the cheek.

He doesn’t care who sees him and can possibly expose his identity.

“Please..just wake up..tell me you’re okay..” he then kisses you on the lips.

Your eyes flutter open when you feel his soft lips on yours.

You place your hands on the side of his face, the people in the office clap and cheer.

You breathe him in before kissing him back. He pulls away and smiles down at you. His wavy brown hair hangs over your face and his eyes are teary.

“Are you crying, loser?” You give him a small smile.

Mark laughs and kisses you again.

Once you assured him that you were okay, Mark hunted Taeyong down at one of his father’s warehouses. Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta waited there for him with a gun and several weapons, but they weren’t prepared for Spider-Man’s speed, strength, and agility, especially when all three were amplified by Mark’s anger. He gave them all an ass whooping they’d remember for the rest of their life, then had the cops come to arrest them. Mark didn’t go into much detail, but you knew that Kingpin, disappointed and hurt, disowned Taeyong and left him on his own to deal with his own actions.

When Taeyong tried to tell him who SpiderMan was, Kingpin called him a fool and deemed him mentally unstable, for a scrawny and nerdy kid with Harry Potter glasses couldn’t possibly have been the Spiderman that was kicking their asses.

Everyone thought Taeyong was crazy and Mark was never identified by the people in the office room.

Johnny and Yuta gave Taeyong up and admitted that they didn’t know who Spider-Man was, for if they had gone along with him, they’d only look crazy too.

Taeyong was arrested for attempted murder of both you and Haechan and sentenced to life in prison. He was tried as an adult and without the assistance of his wealthy father, didn’t stand a chance at getting away.

———

[December]

Finals were over and you could finally celebrate with Mark.

You joined him for the Winter Dance while dressed in a long, sleeveless icy blue dress.

“You look beautiful, like a princess.”

Mark blushed as he took your hand and led you to the dance floor.

You smiled and laughed out. He too looked dashingly handsome like a prince in his black suit and a bow tie that matched your dress. His hair was parted to the side and smoothed back, he didn’t have his glasses so he looked older, more mature.

The two of you swayed side to side. You laid your head on his shoulder and drank in the scent of his cologne. He smelled like flowers, his touch felt warm on your bare back.

There were stars decorating the dark gym in order to set the mood. White snowflakes also danced across the ceiling.

“I...have something to ask you..”

His low voice vibrates against your chest.

You raised your head and looked at all of the beauty marks on his neck and jaw. Funny enough, they were in all the places that you wanted to kiss.

“Yeah?”

Your soft voice makes him weak, he wants to hold you like this forever.

“Will you..” he clears his throat and glances down at you nervously. “..be my girlfriend?”

Your face lights up, you smile widely.

“I thought you’d never ask, Potter.” You kiss him on the lips and spend the rest of the night together.

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roger-that-cap · 4 years ago

Text

lover

sam wilson x fem!reader

warnings: absolutely none. this is pure fluff, the perfect way to kick off my first sam wilson obsession

word count: 1.3k- basically a drabble

inspired by lover by taylor of course- y’all can peep the places i slid in a few lines hehehe

You were reading, but then again, you weren’t. There were moments where you could pull yourself together and look at the pages, but you knew that it was all in vain. Sam Wilson was right across from you, sitting at the table with you as he watched you the same way. You felt your cheeks warm up at his steady stare, and finally you put your book down. The soft music playing in the background filled the silence while you tried to string together a coherent sentence.

You could never remember to do anything around Sam but admire him. “Can I help you, Sam?” You asked, the playful tone of your voice not escaping his notice. You saw his lips quirk up into that small half smile that stole your heart months ago and propelled you forward into a life you never thought you’d live.

“Didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to look at my girl,” he drawled, and you rolled your eyes before picking your book up again, even though you both knew that you weren’t going to retain a word of what you pretended to read. ‘What, are you busy or something?”

“Trying to get in some light reading,” you murmured, your heart settling to a calming rate when his leg found yours under the table, locking with yours in the way that he almost always did. You couldn't keep the smile from coming to your lips. It only took him a minute and a half to trail his hand across the table and take your left one, gently prying it from the book and holding it tenderly.

When you opened your mouth to scold him with less than your full chest, he gave you a look that made your heart stutter. “Just wanna be close to you, sweetheart.” He was just so charming. He was smooth in a way that made anyone’s mind falter for a moment, and so genuine that you knew he meant every word he said. He had this charisma, a dazzling aura around him that you saw from miles away, and it was what drew you to him in the first place. He never failed to put you in a romantic kind of haze, one that only he could put you in and take you out of.

You had loved and lost a few times in life, had your heart borrowed and returned and dyed blue many more times than you would have preferred, but it was all worth it when it came to Sam. You knew that you would go through each heartbreak three more times just to love Sam once, if that was what it took. Your blue heart turned a passionate pink the second you met him, and you just knew that it was safe with him. You had never met anyone like Sam Wilson, and you had surely never met anyone who made you feel like he did.

Within a few minutes, you had only turned the page once, and the feeling of his eyes on you surely didn’t make you go any faster. When you finally got to a new chapter, you saw that it was going to be told from the point of view of a character that had a particularly boring arc up to that point, and you knew that there was no way you were going to be able to ignore Sam while reading it. “You need something, Wilson?”

He grabbed your second hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “Just you,” he said, and then the annoying sound of the wooden chair scraping the floor was loud in your small apartment. He brought you to your feet, and then you were standing with him, both hands intertwined over the table. “Let’s dance.”

You blinked. “Sam, you know I don’t dance.” You had two left feet and not enough heart to have fun while embarrassing yourself. The last time you had danced was actually with Sam, when he put on old, outdated slow song and tried to prove that he could out dance Steve and Bucky, even though they had lived through the slow dancing age. You had dragged him down a bit, but he still managed to show off with you on his arm.

“You also didn’t ride roller coasters, eat fair food, swim in the ocean, or go to concerts,” he pointed out, and you rolled your eyes. “And look at you now, sweetpea.”

It was true. Sam could bat his eyelashes at you twice and you would do anything he wanted. Not because he was too pretty to deny, but because he wanted you to be with him. He made you get on that terrifying ride because he wanted to see your face on the climb, and because he wanted to hold your hand while you went down together. He wanted you to go to the beach with him and get in the water because he knew you’d like it if you tried it, and because he would get to see your eyes light up when you realized it yourself. He wanted to do everything with you because he wanted memories with him. And deep down, you knew that you would always go where he would. So, without a word, you rounded the side of the table and went into his awaiting arms.

He was a good dancer. He led you without even saying a word, a hand on the small on your back and the other pulling you close. You closed your eyes and leaned your head on his chest, humming in contentment as words left your mind until you were only filled with thoughts of him.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” He asked, and you nearly cursed him and his observant skills.

“Just…” you said, and your heart swelled at the way he looked down at you, waiting patiently for you to form your words to your liking. “It’s in times like these where I can’t remember if I’ve known you for twenty seconds or twenty years,” you murmured, and he gave you a small smile.

“And why is that?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice, and you ignored the way that your cheeks heated up again.

“We just- we just feel close,” you explained weakly, but he didn't press. He knew you weren’t finished, like he knew everything about you. “Not even just physically, but, everything. All around.”

He was still swaying you gently, the innocent kind of dance that you would see between a sweet couple. His hands were warm on your skin, gentle and firm in reminding you that he was there with you, not halfway across the world and bleeding on some sort of aircraft. “Can we always be this close, sweetheart?”

Instead of your heart speeding up again, it just ticked on steadily like the time, a metronome that kept up with your swaying. “As long as you want us to be.”

In a display that would have made your stomach churn with how sickly sweet it was had you been watching another couple do it, he bent down and kissed you again. “That’s gonna be a long time, darlin’.”

You didn’t have a ring on your finger. Hell, you didn’t even have a full year under your belt with him. You didn’t have the same skills as him, you didn’t like to go on those long runs at the crack of dawn with him, and you sure as hell weren’t built for the kind of life that he lived so that others didn’t have to. But you knew that you loved him wholly and eternally and you could feel that he returned it, and that fact was as hard and true as a diamond. You didn’t need three summers and a proposal to decide or realize that.

“Forever, then.” You said, and your heart skipped at your own words, until he bent down and kissed you, lips against your for a few seconds until he pulled away, still so close that you could feel them moving against you when he spoke again.

“Forever works for me.”

*****

i quite literally have had zero time to write, and when i did have time, writer’s block was terrible. I’m fr very sappy rn and this was the cure i guess? this is my first sam fic and the first thing i’ve made since i got into a funk, so be please be gentle skfjs

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson fanfiction #just sam wilson #sam wilson fluf #sam wilson one shot #my fics #sam wilson x you #sam fluff #marvel fanfiction

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delimeful · 4 years ago

Text

the end of being alone (4)

warnings: mentions of Roman's tragic backstory, health concerns, chronic fatigue mentions, but really mostly fluff

“Roman!” A hushed whisper-yell came from halfway across the cave.

Roman looked up from where he was carefully taking apart and cleaning out his communicator, feeling a stab of exhaustion upon seeing Patton crouched next to their resident baby Human. They’d just spent what felt like half a suncycle entertaining the kid, who seemed to wake up with more energy than all three of them combined.

Virgil was in fact the source behind the crumbs of mud and dirt that had worked their way into the cracks of his communicator: Logan was currently at the ship working inventory, and the kid had insisted on checking up on him as often as he remembered that the Ulgorii wasn’t with them, which was often.

Still, they’d managed to tucker him out eventually, and he’d fallen asleep in their presence for the third time ever, which felt like some kind of accomplishment in itself.

An accomplishment that they were about to undo if Patton didn’t stop making a ruckus. Roman drew his hands apart slowly, signing ‘quiet’ at his friend as he cast one last look at the partially assembled communicator and then padded over.

“What is it?” he signed, since whispering was both rough on his throat and not always guaranteed to come out as low volume as he’d like.

Patton took a moment to gesture wildly at the Human, who was slumped over on his side. Roman felt a sudden stab of fear, and leaned over to check his breathing.

To his relief, Virgil was simply sleeping, no injuries or illness visible in him. He turned a frustrated stare onto Patton. If the Ampen had called him over here and scared the scales off of him just to have another fit about how cute the Human was, he was turning right around and walking to the nearest river to dunk his head under and scream.

Before he could say as much, Patton finally found his words. “Roman, he’s purring!”

Roman jerked back slightly in surprise. “He’s what?”

“Purring!” Patton looked up at him, antennae fluttering back and forth rapidly like he couldn’t contain his confused alarm. “He’s never done this before! Do you think…,”

Roman moved closer, ears pricking forward attentively. Sure enough, there was a low little buzz coming from the Human. He couldn’t help but notice the purr’s odd tone, the weakness of it, the way it stuttered and paused and occasionally seemed to falter entirely.

“It’s not right,” he muttered to himself, placing the pads of his hand on the Human’s torso and feeling the faint buzz.

Patton whistled in worried query, glancing between them both. “Is he hurt?”

“He’s Human, Pat, I don’t know if—,” Roman froze midway through lifting his hand away; Virgil was making a short, high noise, almost like a whine. His little face had crinkled up in sleep, the way Human distress looked, and his purr had turned to hitching breaths.

Roman glanced at his broken communicator and swore under his breath, feelings strong enough to make Patton fluff up with secondhand panic.

“I’ll go find Logan!” he said, twisting and scampering out of the cave, quick enough that his skittered footsteps had vanished by the time Roman’s wordless sound of protest made it out of him. Roman had longer legs, and Patton was better with the kid, so why had things turned out like this?!

He looked back down at Virgil, who had begun to unconsciously curl inward, leaving his back exposed. The motion hardly made sense; according to the body scan Logan had coaxed the kid through, the center of all his nerves met there, with only a thin layer of skin and muscle surrounding it.

He had no scales or rough hide or even fluffy plumage to protect his back, but he still curled up with it facing out, as though defending his squishy underside like a Crav’n.

The thought made something in him twist, and his scales went slicked back as another whimper tore through the tiny Human. He glanced at the cave opening: There was no sign of the others’ return. It would probably be a while yet.

Regardless, Roman couldn’t wait around and watch a kit cry any longer. He carefully lifted the Human up into the curl of one arm, crooning lowly at him. Virgil settled slightly, but the tiny, haphazard purr had yet to start back up, and the thought was enough to make him feel nauseous with worry.

He reached back and only hesitated a fraction before unhooking his plate armor, pulling it free and setting it away for the first time in the kit’s presence. Despite the sounds of metal, Virgil didn’t wake, head slumped against a shoulder and gangly limbs pulled in tight.

Still, no purr. Not even that sickly little stutter.

If Virgil had been a Crav’n, a true pup, he would have spent each night cuddled up with his family, falling asleep to their low rumbles and quickly developing his own. It was an automatic reflex, a vital part of deep sleep, a vibration that kept their bodies in good condition.

There were ways it could go wrong. If a pup was abandoned, they’d have problems developing their purr alone. If a pup felt... unsafe enough, they’d stop purring entirely, quiet even in the deepest sleep. When it was a choice between being healthy and not being hunted, even the smallest pups knew which to choose.

Even after rescue, it could be a struggle to regain the reflex, especially without close family. It had taken Roman years to manage, and he could still remember how much better he’d felt when he’d woken up after a full night of low, purring sleep. The sense of relief that came with realizing the ache in his bones didn’t have to be permanent.

Roman wavered, looking down at Virgil. The kid was Human. There was no guarantee this was even what he needed.

But if he did need it, the way Roman had needed it so long ago…

He pressed a thumbpad to the little crinkle in the Human’s brow, smoothing it out, and then sat down with a little grumble of acceptance. He shifted to lean back, his tail keeping him balanced as he settled Virgil’s little curled up form atop his chest.

It had been a while since he had purred while conscious. Parents got plenty of practice, of course, but once a kit was old enough, everyone would greet them with their own rumble, let them know they were safe. It was the best way for older kids to keep practicing their purrs while awake, too.

He hadn’t practiced in a long time, but looking down at the kit, he found his own deep, consistent purr started up with barely a hitch.

It took a few moments, but Virgil cuddled closer, seeming to lose a little of that fearful tension. Roman carefully adjusted him as he got floppier, and frowned at the little sharp bits of bone he could feel under the skin. Patton was right; the kid needed to eat more.

Embarrassingly, his purr got louder, as though he could heal months’ worth of living off a scavenger diet through pure force of will. He should tone it down. He wasn’t a brand new parent looking after their first pup. He didn’t even know if this would help at all.

…

Well, it couldn’t hurt to keep trying, though, could it?

—

When Patton scrambled into the cave ahead of him and then stopped short, Logan feared the worst.

He’d always known that this venture could end in disaster, from the moment they’d realized they were dealing with a Human. Roman had been worried about aggression or violence, the classic fears when it came to Deathworlders and the expected response considering the Cravon’s past.

Logan had been more worried about the situation itself. The black market trafficking industry had led to an abhorrent number of cases with rescued feral children. Very few of them had been successfully socialized, and though Virgil was older and seemed to be improving with them, his worry about the child had never quite gone away.

“Is he…,” Logan felt his throat buzz with some sort of wordless grief, and Patton turned to look at him with wide eyes.

He chirped a negative as quietly as possible, and Logan felt some of the weight on him fall away. Reaching out, Patton curled his little fingers around Logan’s wrist, tapping an apology against his chitlin.

“They’re okay,” he whispered, and then pulled him forward excitedly. “I was just surprised, really surprised— look!”

Once his eyes had adjusted to the slight change in lighting, Logan could see Roman, who was laying on his back up against the wall of the cave, his face lax with sleep and a low rhythmic rumble emanating from his chest. This in itself wasn’t entirely unusual; Roman needed a lot of sleep, and he often took naps here and there.

No, the unusual element was the Human that currently had his cheek squished up against Roman’s neck, sprawled out in the most relaxed position he’d ever seen from the pupa. Roman’s chest plate had been set aside entirely.

“They’re cuddling,” Logan said, bewildered.

“They’re cuddling!” Patton squealed, ecstatic.

He clapped his hands over his mouth, but going by the way Roman’s purr shifted to a growl, the damage was done. Roman’s eyes slit open, and without a moment’s pause his tail curled in front of him defensively, his scales pricking up to make a wall of sharp points between them and Virgil.

The Cravon looked entirely ready to disembowel whoever had dared to try and disrupt the kid’s sleep.

“Roman,” Logan called dryly, “it’s us.”

He ran through his identifying ‘friend-safe’ clicks to cement the statement, but Roman was already settling his scales back down and averting his gaze.

“Sorry,” he forced out, ears flattened back with embarrassment as his growl settled back into that low purr Logan normally only heard while they were settling down to sleep. “Didn’t mean to—,”

“It’s quite alright,” Logan interrupted, unable to completely conceal the amusement he felt. Roman had yet to shift in any way that would jostle Virgil. “Though this is a touching scene, I was under the impression that something was wrong.”

Patton piped up to answer his non-question, though his antennae had yet to stop their excited swaying. “We found out Virgil purrs!”

As if on cue, a haphazard little buzz started up, a rough, faltering pattern that was barely audible. Roman lowered his own purr’s volume, though it seemed to make his ears twitch with reluctance.

They all went quiet to listen to the undersized sound for a moment, the Human still blissfully unaware of all the attention.

“It’s too weak by far,” Roman said, his Common a little more accented through the purr. He was looking at the Human in his arms with blatant worry, a far cry from his original reluctance to interact. “I didn’t know a purr could be this weak.”

“That’s because it’s not a purr,” Logan said, trying to keep any hint of fondness from his voice. His shipmates turned to look at him with wildly varying expressions.

“I’ve seen this phenomenon before,” he continued. “I used the medscanner to check Virgil over, because I had also originally assumed it was a purr, and if it was…,” he faltered.

He’d been just as alarmed as the two of them now were, hearing it. If it had been an internal maintenance process like a Crav’n purr, it would have been even quieter than Roman’s when they’d first started travelling together. He and Patton had witnessed firsthand the difference in Roman’s mood and health once he’d gotten through those rough nights.

Next to him, Roman’s ears were tucked completely flat, as though he knew exactly what Logan was remembering. Logan didn’t understand why Roman was so embarrassed by moments of weakness-- was often frustrated by his friend’s reticence, even-- but now wasn’t the time to address it.

“I was simply concerned about the possibility,” Logan finally settled on, “but after investigating his scan thoroughly, I found it was simply the result of soft tissue vibrations from a partially blocked airway.”

Patton blinked up at him. “What does that mean here?”

“It means I-- we freaked out for no reason,” Roman grumped, carefully pushing himself up as his purr ground to a stuttering halt.

Logan held out a stilling hand. “Not necessarily.”

“So, it is a bad thing?” Patton asked, drooping.

“Not at the moment, however,” Logan cast a meaningful look at Roman, “I have no control to work off of, but I do believe Virgil’s general skeletal and muscular health is in worse shape than they should be. He may not have the capability to self-maintain like you, Roman, but that doesn’t mean he gains no benefits from this. The opposite, really.”

Roman slumped back down immediately, eyes wide. “It’s helping?”

“Yes,” Logan confirmed. “I was planning to bring the topic up with you, actually, once you were more comfortable around him.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Patton chirped delightedly, darting forwards to bump his head against Roman’s chin. “You really stepped up when he needed you, Roman.”

“Of course I did, who do you think I am?” Roman shot back confidently. Everyone politely pretended not to notice the flustered twitching of his tail. Patton peeked over Roman’s shoulder, crooning slightly at the sight of Virgil.

“Cuddle pile!” he cheered softly, using Roman’s arm as a helpful bar to climb up onto him. Roman shifted obligingly, shifting his horns into range for easy handholds when Patton inevitably slipped.

As soon as Patton was settled, feathers puffed out for maximum soft padding, the two of them turned to look at Logan with matching pleading expressions, as though choreographed. Logan clicked with faux reluctance even as he stepped closer.

“Oh, very well,” he conceded, and was pulled into the haphazard pile posthaste.

He mentally tabled the rest of inventory for later, knowing quite well that nothing was going to get done for as long as the impromptu session lasted.

Still, with his friends beside him and Roman’s pleased purr rumbling through him, he couldn't seem to find anything to complain about.

#sanders sides #teoba #wibar #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #writing #my writing #the end of being alone #humans are deathworlders #yaaay i wrote #*claps for myself*

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nyotasaimiri · 2 years ago

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Arc Two (redux) 60

(we’re about halfway through my pre-done chapters!)

Nyota crouched next to Esther to better see the words on the small screen. Really, hunkered down might have suited better to the moment. She always felt her own bulk so sharply beside humans, and even more against small, frail Esther. Her hand was so large—focus, she told herself, and tried not to think of Esther’s tiny fragile-seeming hands.

“She’s quite observant,” Esther was saying proudly. She indicated the footnotes on her screen. “I was too absorbed in the runes to check the carved faces. How fascinating! What in the world does she mean by ‘too perfect’ on these?”

Nyota waited several moments for Esther to answer her own question, then realized it was not rhetorical. She leaned in to study the screen better. It took her a good while more to realize the answer. “They are too flawless,” she said slowly. “They don’t look like people, just… ideas. The perfect idea of an avian, floran, glitch…”

Esther frowned and nodded, listening but not yet sure. “Go on?”

Nyota pointed at the apex carving. “This apex… it has quite a few traits we consider highly attractive. The shape of the brow and cheekbones, the full curve of their nose... But I have never seen them together on the same person. Except… in propaganda. It is similar to old propaganda, from when my parents were young.” She took a breath and mastered herself. “It looks like Big Ape.”

Esther looked up at her sharply. “You don’t mean—”

Nyota shook her head, dispelling the idea. “I do not think it is him. But… it is a composite image, you see? The images they used for him were an apex ideal. The carvers had the same intention.”

Understanding dawned, for a moment. “But the Novakid image,” Esther asked, “she said that one was different? How?”

Nyota touched the screen and flicked the image aside to look at the next one. Her finger traced down the carved novakid’s chin, over the faintly-traced tiny marks left by ancient tools. “The sculptor left their scars,” she said softly.

That drew only confusion. “I didn’t know Novakid could scar,” Esther said, thoughtful. “But then again, we know so little about them.”

“They can,” Nyota reassured her. It felt odd to push the nostalgia aside to force her words into order; she did not like the oddness. “One of Lumen’s shoulders is paler than the other, from a thicker shell that formed where he recovered from a serious wound, decades ago.” Her hand traced the statue’s ‘scars’ again without thinking. The artist had removed only thin shaves of stone, but it still showed uneven edges like a wound that healed wrong. “I think the sculptor carved this from life, not imagination. It looks like Marcy thought the same.”

Esther nodded slowly. “Did they simply not have a large number of Novakid around to compare?” she mused. “Or perhaps this one was a close friend?”

“That, we can’t know without more information,” Nyota told her. A smile tickled out of her thoughts. “They must have had quite a knack to get this one to sit still long enough. Even Lumen rarely stays in one place for long.”

Esther chuckled. “Oh yes. It was a delight having your Sonny here before, but goodness was it tiring just watching her! I don’t know how Arjun manages.”

Nyota tried her best to put on her most solemn face. “Many months of practice.”

The effect was slightly spoiled when a chuckle squeezed out to join Esther’s laugh.

Esther’s mood sobered into a sigh after a few moments. “All of this is lovely speculation,” she said, “and it will surely help us understand the ancient builders more, but we still do not know how to open the gate to look around inside.”

Nyota started to answer, and felt herself drift. She did not see Esther’s startled stare. She saw Hadley beside her, the cloaked figure, an extended hand.

“There are still doors you have yet to open. Doors like that will need keys.”

“Are you quite alright?” Esther’s eyes looked huge behind her glasses as Nyota looked down again, wide and worried. “I thought you wandered right off there. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

Nyota sighed and shook her head. “Perhaps not,” she admitted. “I should go rest, and check on Hadley. She was injured in helping me reach the gate. I’ll come back later.”

“Take care,” Esther told her, and patted her hand. Nyota was again struck by just how small her fingers were.

Sentimental, she sighed to herself as she went down the stairs. She would never have—well, no. That was false. She had been fascinated by the tiny humans on that USCM vessel so many years ago… and by Marcy, not so long after. Her first sights of a world beyond the Miniknog. But she really was tired if her mind was wandering so far.

“Sleep,” she murmured, trying to convince herself. “Answers can wait.” The teleporter at the edge of the Ark hummed to life as her ship received her signal. It sent a tell-tale tingle shivering through her fur, and brought a slow smile. “Besides, Hadley would never forgive me for asking without her.”

She felt something was wrong the moment she set foot on the ship.

#arc two #repost

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hawthornewhisperer · 4 years ago

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epiphanies

Some DILF!Draco for @ambpersand. Currently 1,500 words and rated T, but I hope to add a second chapter tonight/tomorrow/soon that would be rated M. This will stay tumblr-only until I have that second chapter ready, then I'll put the whole shebang up on Ao3.

Inspired by this incredible fanart by @mignon-chignon and thank you to @bgonemydear for her on-the-spot betaing.

Hermione hadn’t even finished getting dressed when the owl from the Ministry arrived. She scanned the note, swore under her breath, and dashed off a reply. If the Mitford hearing had been moved up, that meant she needed the files and she needed them today.

She had last seen them in Malfoy's briefcase as he went home two days ago, but he'd been out of the office ever since. She hurried up the stairs to her building’s owlery, scribbled a note to Malfoy and returned to her flat, hoping against hope she was wrong.

His return owl arrived when she was halfway through her toast and she groaned under her breath. Mitford files are at my place. I’ll leave them in the Floo Parlor.

That was it, not even his initials as a sign off. “Rude prat,” she grumbled under her breath. Malfoy had been working at the firm with her for the past six months, and while he was no longer the sneering bully she remembered from Hogwarts, he was an exceedingly grumpy arsehole most of the time. Everything he said was clipped and sardonic, and he seemed to have a deathly allergy to saying thank you. She would have hated working with him if he wasn’t so bloody good at his job, which had downgraded her feelings towards him from “loathe completely” to “tolerate grudgingly.”

Hermione always did have a weakness for competence.

She grabbed her blazer and joined the queue in the lobby for the floo, still piling her hair into a bun on the top of her head when she took her turn.

Malfoy’s Floo Parlor was immaculate. It looked like a magazine spread, tastefully decorated and without even a speck of dust. In contrast, her tiny flat looked like a library had exploded in it, largely because one basically had.

But of course Malfoy’s was neat and tidy and...empty. The Mitford files were nowhere to be seen. She let loose a swear that would have made her ex-husband proud and steeled herself to walk into Malfoy’s apartment proper, wishing she had had time for an extra cup of tea if she was going to have to deal with his surly face before nine am.

She pushed open the door to the rest of his flat, ready to snap at him, and froze.

He had his back to her, looking out the expansive window that framed much of London, and the first thing she noticed was he had a very nice back.

A very nice bare back, because he was shirtless. Shirtless and holding a baby.

She knew he had a child, of course. He had one framed photo of the boy on his desk— the only photo of any kind in his entire office, which otherwise resembled a prison cell with a very fancy sofa— but Malfoy did not talk about personal matters at work. All she knew was his name— Scorpius— and that he was approximately Albus Potter’s age.

The little boy shared his father’s blond hair, but there was a soft curl to the ends that must have come from his mother. The Malfoy-Greengrass divorce had been the subject of more than one gossip page article, but Hermione hadn’t read any of them— she didn’t like how exploitative they felt, turning people’s pain into sport for entertainment.

Not that she cared much about Malfoy’s pain, per se, but it was the principle of the thing.

Scorpius’s eyes were red rimmed and his cheeks looked sticky with tears as he eyed her over his father’s shoulder. His father’s exceptionally muscled, well defined, bare shoulder. The boy pawed at his eye with a chubby fist and she watched as Draco pressed a soft kiss to the side of his son’s head, the sort of careless affection she was used to seeing from Harry with his boys but she had never once thought she would see from Malfoy. “It’s okay buddy, I know. It hurts,” she heard him murmur, and she realized she had been staring for entirely too long.

She cleared her throat and he turned with a start. “Fuck, the Mitford files,” he said, the soft look on his face vanishing in an instant.

Hermione felt an odd sort of loss when his familiar cold mask slipped into place, like she had gotten a glimpse of something she would never see again.

Why she wanted to see that look on his face again was a mystery she didn't much feel like solving.

“They’re in my study, hold on,” he added, shifting Scorpius higher on his hip and padding barefoot towards a closed door.

Hermione used his absence to compose herself. She was just thrown by seeing her coworker out of context, that was all.

Out of context and shirtless with an unfairly sculpted chest, plus a pair of joggers slung low across his hips. Did all men have muscles that arrowed down from their hips like that? That was not something she had seen in the flesh before, and it had her flustered.

By the time he returned with the Mitford file, she was thoroughly uncomposed. “You know if you’re going to be off work you really shouldn’t take home client files that can’t be owled,” she snapped.

Anger flashed across his face. “I’ll be sure to have Scorpius schedule his sleep regressions and teething fits with you next time,” he growled.

“It’s nothing to do with him,” she said, doing her best to keep her eyes anywhere but where they wanted to be, which was staring at the play of morning light on the planes of his chest. “These files are supposed to stay at the office for a reason, Malfoy.”

Exhaustion abruptly flooded his features. He pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes and Scorpius nuzzled into his neck. “I know,” he said, broad shoulders slumping. “Look, this week has been hell. I didn’t think I would be out this long. I’m sorry,” he added, and quite frankly, she never thought Draco Malfoy would ever apologize to her for anything.

The shock from hearing those two words was the only explanation for what came out of her mouth next. “When was the last time you showered?”

Something that was almost a smile tugged the corner of his mouth up. “I look that bad, huh?”

Actually he looked like a Greek god carved out of marble but she wasn’t about to tell him that. And he did have rather alarming purple shadows under his eyes, plus stubble that indicated it had been several days since he shaved. “You’ve looked better,” she said, reaching out and plucking Scorpius from his arm. “I don’t have to be in for a bit. Go shower.”

He hesitated, but Scorpius was already interestedly pulling at her hair. “Okay,” Malfoy said, something unreadable in his grey eyes. “It’ll only be a minute.”

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Scorpius, who giggled. “Take your time.”

By the time Malfoy emerged from his bedroom, freshly showered and shaved and in jeans and a white v-neck shirt, Hermione and Scorpius were on the living room floor while he clambered all over her like a muggle jungle gym. Scorpius was fascinated by her hair and was sitting next to her while she laid flat on her back, grabbing chubby fistfuls and yanking on it.

“Careful, he’ll skin you bald if you let him,” Malfoy drawled.

She pushed herself up to sitting, at first grateful Draco had put on a shirt and then disappointed as it meant his chest was now hidden from view. But then he crossed his arms and the muscles in his biceps strained against the sleeve of his shirt, and she circled back to grateful again.

“There’s plenty to go around,” she said, gently prying Scorpius’s hand from her hair and retying it into a bun. Draco's gaze rested on her as she did, and an unaccountable blush started crawling up her neck.

“Sorry about earlier,” he said, sitting down on the couch, lifting Scorpius into his lap and bringing the total number of apologies she had ever heard from his lips to two.

She shrugged. “Honestly? You’ve been worse.”

He huffed, a noise that almost sounded like a laugh. “I have been a prat, haven’t I? Between the divorce and Scorpius, I’ve been an arsehole at the office. I’ll try and do better,” he said.

The utter sincerity of his words drew her up short. “Actually, I was talking about Hogwarts but yes, you have been a prat at the office.”

Draco blinked. “Fuck, I— I never apologized for that, did I?”

“You didn’t, but it’s okay,” she said surprising herself. Apologies were nice, but they didn't mean much if the person didn't actually try to improve. She wasn’t sure when, exactly, but at some point in the last six months she had stopped thinking of who Malfoy used to be and accepted that he had changed for the better.

“It’s not, though,” he said. “Again, with the divorce and everything I’ve been— it’s isolating, is all. I'm sorry.”

“Pity there’s no one else in this room who knows what it’s like to go through a divorce,” she said drily.

His eyebrows shot up. “Are you saying I can come to you for tea and sympathy, Granger?”

“I’m saying you don’t have to do this all alone,” she said gently, and stood. “McAvoy will be waiting on the Mitford brief though. I should get going.”

He stood, Scorpius once again snuggling into his chest. “Thanks, Granger. I owe you one,” he said.

Hermione leaned over to place a kiss on Scorpius’s soft curls without even thinking. She could smell Draco’s skin that close, the soap and shampoo from his shower filling her nostrils. “I’ll hold you to that,” she said, and headed towards the Floo Parlor, Mitford files safely in hand.

She only wished she could say the same for her hormones.

#dramione #dramione fic #draco x hermione #single dad!draco #divorced!hermione

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elvish-sky · 4 years ago

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You’re Mine {Fili x Reader}

A.N: i already posted this but my dumb ass accidentally deleted it so here we go again! I’m so sorry! I wrote this for the lovely @guardianofrivendell who deserves lots of things, but especially Fíli fanfiction! It’s based on this post. I hope I did alright, I loved writing it and hope you guys like it as much as I do!

Word Count: 1,951

Summary: You and Fíli have always disliked each other, but something brings you closer together.

Pairing: Fíli x Reader

Warnings: Xenophobia, Angst, Fluff, Injuries

****

You’re Mine

“I don’t understand why she needs to be here!” Fíli slammed his fist on the table.

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s not like you’re adding much to the conversation yourself, sitting there with your arms crossed like a baby.”

It was your weekly evening dinner with the Company, and things were going… about as well as usual.

Everyone else sat there, silent or quietly chatting with the person next to them, while you and Fíli sniped at each other. Even months after reclaiming Erebor, you and the dwarf still detested each other. As a human traveling with the Company, tensions had been high with everyone at first but the rest of the group had eventually warmed up to you, in no small part because of your help getting the elves on their side during the battle. Not Fíli.

Fíli drew breath to retort, but before he got the chance Thorin stood.

“Y/N, Fíli, if you don’t stop this outrageous behavior I will send you to your rooms right now.”

“He started it,” you exclaimed.

“I did not!” Fíli stood up, glowering, but a glare from Thorin made him sit right back down.

The two of you spent the rest of the dinner sullenly glaring across the table at each other, making faces and basically doing everything you could to insult the other while staying silent. Once it was over, you stomped out of the room, closely followed by Fíli. You make it halfway down the corridor before his hand on your shoulder turns you around.

“Why did you say I started it?”

“Because you did,” you huffed,

“I did not!” His face was getting redder with anger.

“You did.”

“I don’t see why you feel the need to make every single thing my fault, Y/N!” Fíli’s face was closer to yours than it had ever been before, you could feel the resentment pouring off of him in waves.

“I don’t! I was just telling the truth!” Your fists were clenched by your sides.

“You never tell the truth, Y/N. You just make things up to make me look bad!”

You threw your hands up in exasperation, too angry to speak so you just walked away, leaving Fíli behind, mouth open as if about to say something else.

You walked through the hallways, heading towards your room, stewing.

Make things up to make him look bad. Bah! He does that himself. And besides, he had started it.

He always started it. You didn’t know what it was about you that rubbed him the wrong way, but something certainly had.

Lost in your thoughts, you eventually looked up to see a door you didn’t recognize. You were so furious that you must have taken a wrong turn. Sighing, you turned around, trying to recognize your surroundings.

They were completely unfamiliar.

You sighed again, picking a random corridor and starting down it, hoping it would lead somewhere you recognized. You made your way through the twisting halls, emerging into a crossroads. You stopped. The archway on the left had those carvings, and the one on the right had Khuzdul for Royal spelled out above. You had never thought announcing where the royalty lived was a good idea, security-wise, but it wasn’t your decision. But if that arch was one your right, and the other was on your left, then that meant your room was in the corridor straight ahead!

Relieved, you hurried towards it, tired and ready to go to sleep and end this day, but before you reached it a dwarf melted out of the shadows next to you. Startled, you backed away, only to find another directly behind you. You moved to take the passageway to the left, but a third appeared.

You were surrounded.

“Um, Hello? Is there anything I can do for you?” Your hands were shaking, but you weren’t quite sure why.

The dwarf that had first appeared, one with ragged brown hair, spoke. “You can get out of our mountain, human.”

Your eyes widened in shock, but before you could do anything else, he kicked you in the stomach. You doubled over, the wind knocked out of your lungs, and your head was met with another kick, snapping it back into the hands of the second dwarf. He grabbed you, and held one of your arms, the third dwarf holding the other so that you were trapped.

The first one stepped closer, fists closed. He started raining blows on your face, hitting your lip, chin, eye, jaw, until it felt like it all was on fire. He punctuated each one with the word, “leave,” until all you could hear was the ringing in your ears and that one word. He kicked you in the stomach again several times, also striking your thighs and shins, your arms, until you were aching all over. Finally, he stopped, and the others dropped you to the ground where you huddled in a heap.

He bent over you. “Your people didn’t come to help us all those years ago. And look! Now, none of ours will come to help you.”

He spat on your face before entering the arch to the left with the two others, leaving you collapsed on the ground.

You lay there for a while, too weak to move, only able to breathe, ears still ringing. You mustered the energy to sit up, but couldn’t do any more than that.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps heading down the hall, towards you. You braced yourself, drawing your knees up and hiding your face, expecting another attack. But all you heard was;

“Y/N?”

The footsteps rushed closer, and you sensed someone kneeling in front of you. Their hand was placed on your shoulder.

“Fíli?” Your voice came out all broken as you lifted your head, seeing him kneeling in front of you with the most concerned expression on his face.

Fíli reached out, cupping the side of your face so gently that it didn’t even hurt. He tilted your chin up, into the faint moonlight shining from a skylight cut into the rock far above. His soft thumb brushed your lip, and he drew it away to reveal a streak of red painted across his skin. Tilting your head at a different angle into the moonlight, his eyes darkened as he saw the swollen flesh around yours. Your heart skipped a nervous beat in the silence, thudding so loudly you were sure he could hear it as he looked you in the eyes.

His voice was soft, tight, jaw set, the anger barely restrained as he spoke.

“Who did this to you?”

“No one,” you croaked out.

“Tell me, Y/N. They don’t get to hurt you like this. You are mine, mine, and I am going to make them pay.”

Your eyes widened at the word ‘mine.’ Suddenly, things made sense that hadn't before, like how the seat next to him was the only one left whenever you arrived anywhere like it had been saved for you. Like how Dwalin or Gloin always winked at you after you fought with him. Like how Kíli had called you the Khuzdul word for ‘sister’ for months, not knowing that Balin had been teaching you the language. It explained the blush that had risen on his face when you had pinned him the last time sparring, sweaty. But it didn’t explain why he insulted you at every opportunity, took every chance he could get to make a jab. But you couldn’t have him rampaging through the kingdom, so that conversation would have to wait a moment.

“Fíli. Please, don’t.”

His eyes grew soft again, the golden light of rage dimming into something calmer. Standing, he brushed off his trousers, before reaching down to scoop you into his arms, careful not to jostle you. With you in his arms, he set off along the corridor to the right.

“My room is the other way,” you pointed out.

“I know. We’re going to mine,” he clarified, and you settled back into silence, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes to ease the pounding in your head.

You blinked your eyes open at the soft sound of a door opening. Fíli walked across the room after shutting it behind himself and lay you gently on the bed. He propped your head up with a pillow, and dunked a cloth in the washbasin before returning to your side and gently dabbing away the blood on your face.

“Fíli.”

His eyes met yours.

“Why are you doing this? You despise me.”

His hand stopped wiping your face.

“I don’t actually.”

“Then what’s with the jabs, the insults, the constant bickering?”

“I thought you hated me. And I had fallen so hopelessly in love with you that it was the only way I thought I could protect myself from hurting my heart even more.”

He sighed. “And it didn’t even work. I’m still hopelessly in love with you.”

You managed a faint smile.

“I guess it didn’t work for either of us.”

His head snapped up.

You continued, “I love you too.”

Fíli smiled, getting up and grabbing a dressing for your eye. “So, we’re not the smartest when it comes to this kind of thing.”

You laughed, ignoring the pain in your chest as he pressed the compress to your eye. “No, we are not. And you can never, ever tell Kíli about this.”

“Deal.”

You smiled at him, shaking the offered hand.

“But seriously, Y/N. Who did this?” His eyes were darkening again.

“I told you, it wasn’t anyone. I fell.”

He slammed his fist down on the bedside table and you were strongly reminded of him doing the exact same thing earlier, in a much different situation.

“That is bullshit, Y/N. Not even you are that clumsy. Now tell me so that I can stop it from ever happening again.”

You sighed. “I don’t know who it was. Three dwarves attacked me in the halls, but it was dark so I couldn’t see them well. All I know is that- that they were mad I was human. That I deserved to be injured and left there, because my people didn’t help yours when the dragon came.”

You started to cry. “And I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry that they didn’t help but I’ve tried to help, I think I helped, and I feel bad that I still need to do more.”

“Y/N,” Fíli brushed a tear from where it had run down to the tip of your nose, “you don’t need to do anything. You helped us get our home back. You’ve never owed us anything, and you definitely don’t now. And I’m going to hunt those dwarves down, whatever it takes, and make them pay.”

You reached out, laying a trembling hand on his arm. “Please stay instead.”

He looked down at you. “Really?”

You nodded. “I’ll rest better knowing nothing can happen to me if you’re here.”

His face softened and he unbuckled the sword belt he had slung on, removing his boots, and then climbing carefully onto the bed next to you. Lifting your head, he moved so that it rested on his chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close. The soft rhythm of his breath lulled you into a daze, and the last thing you heard before drifting into the unconsciousness was the whispered words, “I’ll make sure nothing like this ever happens again, my love.” You fell asleep with a smile on your face, which Fíli gazed at, not believing that you actually loved him too but so happy that you did until he joined you in the land of dreams.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit

I’m also gonna tag those of you who commented on the first one, not because of any desire for more notes just because I feel absolutely terrible and like a total dumbass and I want you to know where it is @cassiabaggins @claraofthepen @beenovel @who-ever-said-i-was-nice @thewhiteladyofrohan @hey-its-nonny @anjhope1

Also tagging @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth thanks for some inspiration!!!

#fili #fili x reader #the hobbit fili #fili story #fili imagine #fili oneshot #fili x y/n #fili x you #fili durin #fili fic #fili fanfic #fili fanfiction #maiawrites #lord of the rings #the hobbit #jrr tolkien

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

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How could you do this babe?

In Breakable Heaven chapter one! Here we go!

Summary: Reader’s ready to celebrate her anniversary with her boyfriend, but things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing, drunk people

Word Count: ~2100

“…leave a message at the beep.”

You couldn’t help but be disappointed that he didn’t answer, but didn’t mind leaving a message. “Hey babe, I was able to close the bookstore early! I should be to yours in the next few minutes if you want to celebrate early. I know you like to have ample time to get ready, so I guess I just wanted to warn you. Anyway, I love you. See you soon.” You left the voicemail as you walked to your car. Tonight you are celebrating your three-year anniversary. You even changed into your brand new lingerie to surprise him, wearing a long coat to hide it in public. It felt a little bit wrong not wearing real clothes, but you were determined to make this the best anniversary celebration yet.

The drive to his apartment was relatively uneventful. A light rain started about halfway through the five-minute drive. As you pull up to his apartment building, you notice the lights on in his room. “Good, he’s home” you think to yourself as you open the door, shuffling inside from the muggy DC weather. As you approach the apartment door, you can hear the soft music of the playlist you made last month featuring all of Taylor Swifts most romantic love songs. Your heart flutters as you think of the kind gesture. Of course, he would be thoughtful enough to put on music as you arrived at his apartment. Unlocking the door and untying your coat at the same time proved to more difficult than anticipated, but you managed to nudge the door open whispering “happy anniversary baby” in the sultriest tone you could.

As you took in the rest of the apartment, your heart burst. There were roses everywhere. Candles lit a path to the bedroom. Maybe he did know how to be a romantic. Dropping your things on the counter and sliding your coat off the rest of the way, you tip toed into the bedroom to surprise him since he clearly did not get your message. The next sixty seconds felt as though time stopped. Or, more accurately, you froze and everything else in the world took on an impossible speed.

As you pushed open the bedroom door, three things caught your attention. First, you felt a surprising amount of resistant as you pushed the door over a bundle of clothes you didn’t recognize. Second, you heard the bed bouncing against the wall. Third, you saw streaks of auburn hair running through you’re boyfriend’s hands as he mercilessly pounded into a woman you didn’t recognize.

Apparently, your entrance was too quiet for either of them to be interrupted. All you could manage was to slowly retreat into the living room, closing the door, but knocking into a side table. You could hear them as they stopped moving, running to the door to investigate the noise. All you wanted was to get out of there though. Throwing your coat back over your lingerie, you grabbed your purse and keys, slamming the door shut. You didn’t even turn around when you heard him opening the door and calling your name. Whatever he had to say was not worth your time anymore.

You couldn’t get the image of the two of them in bed together out of your head. You were feeling absolutely everything at once. You felt betrayed. You felt sad. A small part of you was actually glad you had a reason to end it. It had never felt like the kind of relationship that would move on. But still, you thought you were happy with him.

But mostly, you were pissed. Rightfully so, but you had no idea where to go or what to do. Your blind adrenaline carried you to the car, and you wound up at a bar. You don’t even remember starting the car, much less driving, but you knew you needed something to drink. You ran inside, ordering tequila shots to drown the sadness, and sat at the bar. As you sat at the bar, contemplating your existence, a man walked up to sit next to you. You had your fair share of practice with this scenario. You had mastered the right mix “fuck off” and “sorry, I’m taken” to get men like this guy to back off with just a single look. But right now, all you could manage was a halfhearted grin that very clearly said “you do not want to deal with my emotional baggage right now.” It was all in the crazed look in your eyes, you were sure of it.

Nobody else came up to you while you were there. You couldn’t help but think over the past three years with him for signs that he was unfaithful. You couldn’t come up with any, the cheating bastard. He must have been pretty good at hiding the secret phone calls and date nights. But then again, you had your own secrets. Not that they would have made him feel like you do right now.

After sitting long enough to consume four shots of tequila, two vodka sodas, and one dark and stormy, reality set in. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball and scream. Or cry. You were obviously not returning to his apartment, but you couldn’t go back to your own either. There was too much there that reminded you of him. The idea of walking in there to see his sweatshirt on your couch made you feel sick. You were teetering on the edge of a full breakdown when the idea struck you. Penelope.

Penelope Garcia is your best friend. You met her at a Doctor Who convention the same day you met he who must not be named. She was there with Kevin, but they broke up a while ago. The realization that you could go to Penny’s couldn’t have come at a better time. Ha. Penny. You only call her that when you’re drunk. She’ll know what to do. You opened your phone, barely able to call up the Lyft to take you to her apartment. It’s honestly shocking you didn’t fall asleep on the seven minute drive there. Whatever, all you needed now was to get inside and forget about him.

After entering the building, you tried the elevator. Of course it was broken. It took you about thirty six minutes to hobble your way up two flights of stairs to Penny’s floor. With each step, you considered texting her to come get you, but you knew the second you saw her you would break down. You absolutely did not want to start sobbing on these stairs. Too many people could see you. Finally arriving to her door, you were exhausted. Mentally and physically drained. Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” you imitated the Big Bang Theory, knowing the small joke would make you smile, even if just for a second. When the door finally opened, you vaulted in for a hug, not even opening your eyes.

As you squeezed Penny, you finally broke out into a fit of sobs. Whisper yelling, you told her as much of the story as you could remember. “Penny, thank god. I left wo-ork early to surprise Dr-Dr-Drew for our anniversary – hiccup – but he was having s-s-se-sex with someone else…” you let out a strangled sob, not noticing how stiff Penny felt in your embrace. You buried your head into her as you continued “So I got very drunk and came here. Was he cheating on me this whole time?” You asked as your tears turned back to rage. “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him” you shout as your coat had begun to fall open again. After what felt like an hour of crying, but in reality amounted to no more than 60 seconds, you finally noticed something was odd. Two things lead you to a simple conclusion that was somehow difficult to comprehend in your drunk state.

First, Penny felt taller. Second, she was wearing converse. Upon noticing these two facts, your hands traveled up the body you were hugging until you found shoulders. Turning your head up, your eyes followed the path your hands had just taken. This series of events lead to the obvious fact that whomever you were hugging was absolutely not Penelope Garcia. Penelope was in fact not even in the foyer, but rather a very attractive, tall man with slightly curly brown hair and eyes like honey was staring back at you. And you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Reid’s POV

Spencer hadn’t actually had anything to drink since arriving at Garcia’s. No, he just drank prior to that point. Normally, he didn’t drink at all when his team got together, but this was just worth celebrating. Another serial killer was behind bars for life because of the work the team did today. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi stayed for a few hours before they left. As part of the “young crowd” on the team, he had stayed at the bar longer than the two older men before the group of you retreated to Garcia’s. Hers was the closest apartment, and everyone else wanted to keep the party going. Spencer couldn’t help but join them, not wanting to return to his empty apartment after the long day they all spent testifying.

Finishing his second glass of water, he began to get up to get more and maybe some for the group when everyone heard the knocking. The group laughed as three consecutive “Penny’s” came from the door. “Reid, can you get that since you’re already up?” Garcia asked, motioning toward the door. “It must be Y/N. She always calls me Penny when she’s drunk.” He obliged. He obviously remembered Garcia mentioning Y/N before, but he had never met her. He swung the door open, expecting a drunk friend of Garcia’s. He was not prepared, however, for said drunk friend to throw herself at him, grasp him in an alarmingly tight hug, and start sobbing. He could barely make out what you were saying through the sobs hearing “surprise Drew”, “anniversary”, “sex”, and “drunk” before you practically screamed “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him.”

It was clear you meant to be pouring her heart out to Garcia, but you hadn’t yet realized who answered the door. For the first time in his life, Dr. Spencer Reid couldn’t think of words to say as you ran your hands up his body to his shoulders. You were clearly taking in the information required to come to the conclusion that he is not in fact Penelope Garcia. As your eyes met his, all he could do was stare. He made every effort to keep his eyes level with yours, but one glace was all it took to be ingrained in his memory forever. He wouldn’t have looked, but the movement of your coat caught his eye as it revealed the exact type of surprise you had planned for whoever Drew was.

The two of you were frozen, unsure of how to proceed. You looked just like he did- a deer in the headlights. Neither of you could move. Neither of you could speak. You could both hear Garcia’s voice as she stumbled down the hallway, but it sounded distant. It wasn’t until the mystery woman broke eye contact that he backed away. Trying desperately to control the blush he were sure had made its way to his cheeks.

Y/N’s POV

The moment was broken as you felt Penny turn you towards her. The flush on your cheeks only grew as you kept your eyes on the tall man as he retreated into the living room, not having said a word. “Y/N… Y/N? Y/N!” Penny had to yell slightly to get your attention. “What happened? What are you doing here? I thought you were celebrating tonight?” She asked rapid fire. You could tell she was also a little bit drunk.

You told her everything. The words practically falling out of you as you started crying again. “Oh babe, I’m so sorry. Here, let’s get you inside.” Penny started to guide you into the living room, but you froze “Wait! Can I borrow some clothes before I go in there? I don’t need to flash anyone else right now.” You whispered. Penny laughed, “Of course! Who did you fla- ohhh. Reid.” She said, trying to hold back the giggles.

“Yes. If that is the very tall man with the perfect eyes and the completely tuggable hair.” You responded, not quite filtering your thoughts, as you were still very drunk.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Penny replied, not knowing how else to respond to the fact that you are very clearly attracted to the young doctor, but also going through shit right now. She would just file away this information for later.

taglist:

@mac99martin

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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