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minnie--verse · 2 months

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Pen Pals — A Park Sunghoon Fic

!!PART 1!!

Summary: you, Ren, are a college student, taking what you would be a normal composition class—until you’re assigned a penpal with the professors’s later class. What happens when you fall for someone you know.. but don’t know.

pairing: Sunghoon x f!reader(Ren)

genre: strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include: possible angst/comfort, slow burn.

general warnings: College student!mc, slow burn, love square(between two ppl), swearing, possible adult content in future chapters.

word count: ~3.4k

chapter content: mentions of food, first meets, college lectures, and a silly bff:)

author's note: i reaaaallly suck about posting huh… oh well ig. I’m gonna be real quick about uploading this one while I have the mindset for it…

Please enjoy this little corner of my mind<3

!!this is NOT proof read!!

thx for reading!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The tiny desk attached to your squeaky seat was pissing you off, the bright, fluorescent lights humming only amplifying the annoyance wracking in your mind. The clock on the wall ticks slowly, reminding you that it’s only 8:05 AM. The professor’s voice drones on about the thesis statements, but your mind is foggy, still walking up from the late night before. Your eyes feel heavy, and you can’t help but wonder why you signed up for an 8:00 AM class in the first place.

Ren, you tell yourself, this is necessary. You know you need to have some sort of English class to graduate, but right now the idea of analyzing other student’s essays feels like an impossible task. You glance around the room, noticing the other students, some furiously taking notes, others looking just as tired as you are. The professor, oblivious to the collective lack of enthusiasm, scribbles something on a whiteboard.

“...and that’s why I thought it would be interesting for us to connect with another group,” the professor says, his voice pulling you back into the present. You blink, trying to focus as he continues. “This semester, you will be writing to someone anonymously in my other composition class. Each penpal would be random, and will take up 25% of your final grade for exchanging letters throughout the semester.”

Great. Just what you needed. Another thing to add to your already overflowing list of homework assignments and to-dos. You can't help but frown, a sense of dread washing over you. The idea of writing to a stranger, even anonymously, feels like an unnecessary burden. Why can this be an optional assignment? Or better yet, why can't you just… sleep through this part?

”Remember,” the professor’s voice cuts through your thoughts, “this is a chance to really connect with someone. Think of it as an opportunity to engage in meaningful dialogue with someone you may not have chosen to speak to normally.”

Meaningful dialogue… sounds like something you’re not going to get from this. Instead, you imagine a semester of cringing every time you have to sit down and write a letter, trying to think of something—anything—worth saying to someone you don't even know.

The professor continues explaining the details, but you’ve already tuned out. You’re thinking about how you’re going to manage to write these letters on top of everything else. How you’re going to have to come up with things to say to someone you don’t even know. It all feels like too much. You sigh softly, leaning back in your chair, and stare at the blank notebook in front of you, wishing you were anywhere else but here.

”To get you started,” The professor says with a smile that you find entirely too cheerful for a Monday morning, “I’ve prepared a prompt for your first letter. It’s a suggestion to help break the ice, so don’t feel like you have to follow it exactly. But it might give you a good starting point.”

The screen at the front of the lecture hall illuminates and it reads.

“Write about a time that recently made you feel alive, a small moment in time, or something more significant--just be honest. It will help break the ice.”

You let out a quiet sigh. It’s not the worst prompt ever, but it still feels like a forced effort to bond over something personal with someone who’s just as much a stranger as the person sitting next to you on the campus bus.

You sit there, staring at a blank piece of paper in front of you. Around you, the other students were starting to write, some scribbling furiously, and some, like you, were hesitating. The professor has settled into his desk, giving everyone time to get started on their first letter.

You change around, half-hoping that the right words would just come to you if you sit there long enough. But the longer you wait, the more you feel like you’re just stalling. With a small sigh, you pick up your pen and start writing. Trying not to think too hard about it.

Dear You,

I’m not sure how to begin this, but I guess I’ll start with the prompt we were given. Something that made me feel truly alive recently… Honestly, nothing truly jumps out of me, but I guess there was one moment a few weeks ago.

I was walking through the park near campus, and it was one of those perfect days where the weather is just right--warm sun, cool breeze, you know? I found this spot under the tree on the east side of the park near the water fountain and sat down with a book, planning to read for a while. But instead of diving into the story, I just… sat there. I let the sun spots through the leaves soak into my skin, watched the trees rustle, and for a few minutes, I didn’t think about anything at all.

It was like everything slowed down, and for the first time in a while, I felt completely present. I could hear the faint laughter of kids playing in the distance, the soft rustle of the wind through the trees and the steady rhythm of my own breathing.

It wasn't some grand epiphany or anything but in that moment, I felt alive--like really alive. I don't know how else to describe it.

Anyway, that's my something I suppose. I guess I’m curious to hear what yours is. Looking forward to hearing from you.

Talk to you later--From Sunny.

You stop writing and look down at what you’ve just put on paper. It feels kind of personal to be sharing with a stranger, but then again, maybe that was the point of the prompt. You close the letter, fold it up and write your alias on the outside of the envelope, handing it to the professor as you leave class.

When you walk out into the lecture hall, you feel a mix of relief and nervousness. The first letter is done, but now you have to wait and see what kind of person you’ll be writing to for the rest of the semester. Just don't overthink it, everything will be fine, and maybe you’ll even make a friend out of it.

As you leave the lecture hall, your mind is still lingering on the letter you just wrote. The words feel like they’ve taken something out of you, as if sharing something tha small, peaceful moment tinder the tree was more intimate than you intended. You shake your head, trying to brush it off, but the thought keeps nagging at you.

Why did you write that? You could have picked something less personal, something that wouldn’t make you feel so exposed. Now, someone out there--some random student that you’ve never met before in your life--knows this quiet little detail about your mind and memories. You sigh, trying to push the thoughts away as you head out of the building.

Your feet carry you automatically in the firstion of the park, the one you mentioned in the letter. You don't really plan on going there, but the memory of that quiet afternoon had drawn you in. You watch your feelings move over the pavement, avoiding cracks and stepping over fallen leaves, completely absorbed in your own thoughts.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad? You think. Maybe this pen pal thing will actually be a good way to connect with someone in a way that’s different from all the shallow interaction you’re used to. Or maybe you’re just kidding yourself, trying to make the best of something that’s bound to be awkward.

Lost in your musing, you don't notice the figure walking toward you until it’s too late. Your shoulder crashes into something solid, jolting you out of your mind. You stumble a step, startled, and look up to see who--or what--you’ve run into.

“Ah, sorry--” you start to say, but your voice falters as you look up and see who you’ve bumped into.

He’s tall, with dark hair that falls just above his eyes, and he’s looking down at you with an expression that’s somewhere between indifferent and tired. He doesn't say anything, just stares at you like he’s waiting for you to explain, but also like he doesn’t really care enough to demand one.

You freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do. The words you were about to say evaporate in your throat, leaving you with nothing but the realization that you’ve just ran face first into someone who probably isn’t thrilled about it.

“Sorry, again,” you mumble out, feeling small under his intense expression. You nod your head at him and step around him, eager to escape his awkward encounter, but his gaze keeps you rooted to the spot for a second longer.

He gives you a tight lipped smile, one corner upturning with an unreadable expression. For a split second, you think he’s going to say something, but instead he gives you an imperceptible nod and steps aside, allowing you to pass. His eyes linger on you for a moment before he continues on his way, not looking back.

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and quickly continue down the bath, your heart beating a little faster than before. As you walk away, you can't help but glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of him disappearing into the crowd.

Shaking your head, you try to refocus on your original destination, but your thoughts keep circling back to the brief encounter. Who was he? And why did it feel like he looked right through you like glass, even in that split-second exchange?

As you reach the park, the familiar sights and sounds start to calm your nerves, but the memory of the bump still lingers at the edges of your mind, intertwining with your thoughts of the letter you just wrote. You find the tree, the one you wrote about, and sit down beneath it, just as you did that day.

— — — — — — — — —— — — — — — —

The guy walks through the campus with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he weaves through the crowd. The earlier encounter with that girl still lingers in his mind, a faint annoyance prickling at the back of his thoughts. He didn’t even catch her name, but there was something about the way she looked at him—wide-eyed and apologetic—that stuck with him more than he’d care to admit.

He steps into the Composition class, his usual indifferent expression masking the mild annoyance he feels about being here. The class is a requirement, not something he chose willingly. He would rather be anywhere else, but he knows he doesn’t have much of a choice if he wants to keep up his GPA.

As the professor begins to speak, his attention drifts. He’s always found this class tedious—too much focus on sharing and connecting with people he has no interest in getting to know. He just wants to get through the semester and move on. But when the professor starts explaining the new assignment, his ears perk up, and a frown creases his forehead.

“Each of you will be assigned an anonymous pen pal from my earlier class,” the professor says, scanning the room with a smile that he finds a bit too enthusiastic. “You’ll be exchanging letters for the rest of the semester, starting with a response to a prompt that’s already been given.”

He bites back a groan. The last thing he needs is to waste time writing letters to some random stranger. He can already imagine the kind of forced, overly sincere nonsense this assignment is going to generate. But there’s no point in complaining—it’s not like he has a choice.

“Here,” the professor’s voice cuts into his thoughts, and he looks up, realizing he’s being handed an envelope. “This is your pen pal assignment. You’ll be exchanging letters with a student from my earlier class.”

He nods curtly and takes the envelope, noticing the name on it: Sunny. The ink is a soft purple ink, and the font is small, cursive, and neat—definitely a girl. He sighs inwardly, already anticipating some overly cheerful or sentimental nonsense about love making people feel alive. But, 25% of his grade is a big chunk. So he unfolds the letter and begins to read it.

The words inside aren’t exactly what he expected. There’s something honest and straightforward about the way she describes her moment in the park. It’s simple, unpretentious, and somehow resonates with him more than he cared to admit. He pauses, almost feeling what she was describing, even if he’s reluctant to acknowledge it.

He taps his pen against the desk, considering how to respond. He doesn’t want to write something superficial, but he also doesn’t want to spill his guts to a stranger. After a few moments of deliberation, he starts writing.

Dear Sunny,

Your letter caught me off guard. I honestly was expecting to read something about falling in love and whoever they were to make you feel like you were alive, but your little moment of clarity in the park reminded me of something similar.

It was late—past midnight, I think—and the city was dead, completely silent. It was like that silence when the snow had blanketed everything, kind of muffling the unusual sounds. I was walking though campus to my apartment after spending the evening at work, and took a detour through a small side street.

It was snowing pretty heavily, but even with the large snowflakes falling it felt like everything paused. The streetlights were orangey in contrast to the weather, and it was completely still. No one was out, and I guess for a second it felt like the entire city belonged to me.

I stopped walking and just stood there by the café on 6th, letting snow accumulate on my shoulders and soaking my backpack while my cheeks pricked with pain form being outside too long. It felt like I was kind of waiting for something to happen I guess but nothing came.

So I suppose what I’m saying is that understand your little blip in time. The moments where things are quiet, or seemingly amplified, and then posing some kind of clarity. Maybe I’m talking nonsense but if I read your words right then maybe the professor knew we’d understand one another.

or maybe I’m just an idiot.

We’ll see.

Talk to you soon. -- Snow.

He rereads the letter once before folding it and sealing it back in the envelope. His handwriting is a little rough, but it’s legible. He writes his chosen anonymous name on the front, feeling a slight pang of curiosity about this “Sunny” person and why they wrote what they did. He pushes the thought aside, deciding it doesn’t really matter.

As he hands the envelope to the professor at the end of class, He can’t help but wonder what he’ll get in response. But that thought is quickly buried as he leaves the classroom, his mind already moving on to the next thing on his list for the day.

— — — — — — — — —— — — — — — —

You tossed your bag onto the floor as you step inside your apartment, the comforting smell of whatever takeout your roommate ordered hitting you thes moment you walk in. Callie is already lounging on the couch, legs draped over the armrest, with her phone in hand. She glances up as you enter, eyes gently lighting up as she greets you with a smile before a small laugh escapes her.

“Beloved—how was class?” She says, noting the unenthusiastic face you’re wearing, “Judging by your face, I’d say today was interesting?”

You snort, kicking off your shoes and collapsing onto the couch next to her, “Interesting is definitely a way to put it. Annoying is another. My professor wants my comp class to write pen pals.”

Callie arches a brow, “Pen pals? What are we back in elementary school? Should we pass notes under the desk with glitter pen too?”

”That’s my thoughts, exactly,” You retort, grabbing a piece of bread from her takeout and munching on it without thought, “It’s a semester long assignment worth 25% of my grade. We have to write them anonymously to his other comp class. It kind of just feels like busy work and an excuse to make people come to class.”

Callie grins, rolling over to face you, “So, did you pour your heart out in some tragic ode to life’s fleeting moments? Or did you just draw your buddy a stick figure and call it a day?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands, “Neither,” you sigh, “more like I enlightened myself about how little I want to be writing anonymous letters to strangers. I wrote about that day in the park. The one where I was supposed to be reading but ended up zoning out for hours under that tree?”

You peek through your fingers to see Callie looking at you with a mixture of laughter and thoughtfulness, “Ah, the day you turned into a sun worshiping lizard… sounds absolutely riveting.” Callie laughed.

”Yeah well, reptile or not, it was peaceful.” You say, finishing the bread in your hand before settling into the couch, “Anyway—I wrote about that and I guess it wasn’t the worst think I could’ve shared. At least I was honest and stuck with the prompt we were given.”

Callie’s head tilted at her upside down smile of amusement and confusion overtook her, “If you were honest you would have admitted to the sunburn you got after falling asleep.”

You roll your eyes again, but there’s a smile tugging at your mouth, “I didn’t fall asleep, I was just meditating.. with my eyes closed.”

”Sure, sure,” she says waving you off, “So you dazzled your little buddy with your deep existential musings. What else happened?”

You think back to the letter, to the way you had tried to describe that feeling of being completely in the moment. Then, your mind drifts to the encounter in the park, the way you’d bumped into that guy with the dark hair and unreadable expression. The memory makes your cheeks warm, though you’re not sure why.

“Well, I wrote the letter in class, handed it in, and then headed to the park to see if I could relive the moment I wrote about,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual. “But on my way there, I accidentally bumped into some guy. Tall, dark hair, brooding vibes—the whole package.”

Callie’s eyes light up with interest. “Brooding vibes, huh? Sounds like your type.”

You shoot her a look. “My type? Since when do I have a type?”

“Since always,” she says with a grin. “You know you’re drawn to the mysterious, emotionally unavailable types.”

You groan, half in exasperation, half in embarrassment. “He wasn’t even that interesting. He just stared at me like I was some kind of freak, and then he walked away. End of story.”

Callie laughs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Sounds like you made quite the impression. Maybe he’s secretly pining for you now, writing tragic poetry about the girl who bumped into him in the park.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, though the thought would be cute if fate truly worked like that. “He probably forgot about me the second I walked away.”

Callie shrugs, still smiling. “Or maybe he’s out there somewhere, wondering who the mysterious girl was, who bumped into him and then vanished into campus. You never know, Ren. Life’s full of surprises.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me,” Callie says with a dramatic hair flip. “Now, go get changed. We’re watching that show tonight, and I’m not letting you back out of it.”

You sigh dramatically, but you can’t deny that the idea of curling up on the couch with Callie and a bad movie sounds like the perfect way to unwind. “Fine, fine. But only if you promise not to get mad when I talk through the whole thing.”

“No promises,” Callie says, grinning wickedly. “But I’ll try.”

As you head to your room to change, you can’t help but replay the day’s events in your mind—the letter, the guy in the park, and Callie’s teasing words. Life is full of surprises, she said, and maybe she’s right. Maybe this pen pal thing will turn out to be more interesting than you thought.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

ending note —

*I am so so so so excited for this one chat.*

Sorry i’m in and out of writing, sometimes the lack of prompts make it hard to keep writing. I also started school for cosmetology and I work so finding time to write is hard. I will post this one more regularly!

I love you all and think you for reading my little corner of tumblr<3

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon fic #park sunghoon fic #college au #college au sunghoon #enhypen college au #enha #enha fic #enha sunghoon #enha sunghoon fic

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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You and I - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer

Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick, laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex

Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill

A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar for giving this a read for me!

Y/N’s P.O.V

Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.

I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.

Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.

There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.

I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.

Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.

I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.

I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.

The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.

Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.

“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.

Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.

Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.

My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.

I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.

With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.

“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.

“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”

Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”

I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.

Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.

“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”

I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.

“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.

“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”

The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.

I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.

“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.

“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.

Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.

“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.

“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.

“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.

“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.

“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.

“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…

“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.

“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.

“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.

“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.

The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.

“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.

“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.

“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.

Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”

He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”

Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.

“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”

“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.

“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.

“No.” It was all the permission he needed.

“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.

It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”

Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”

“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.

“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”

Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.

My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.

“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.

“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?

“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.

“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.

“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.

I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.

I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.

“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”

#my fics #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #smut #henry cavill request #henry cavill requests #my requests #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill reader #henry cavill reader insert #henry cavill reader inserts #rpf #fanfiction #henry cavill oneshot

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meltwonu · 3 years

Text

| 𝖓𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 | CHAPTER 8

pairing; camboy!seokmin x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; camboy!au, university!au, camboy!seokmin, livestreams/camshows, dom!seokmin, masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, daddy!kink, corruption!kink. HOWDY EVERYONE, HAPPY FRIDAY!🥂 Sorry for the small schedule change but finally ch 8! 🥰🥳💕 Thank you for being so patient and understanding and thank you sooo so so much for you support always!✨ Not to spoiler but this is my last fic series update for a while since I’m gonna have a diff schedule for Oct!🥸😌 More on that tomorrow! 💕 For now, enjoy ch 8 and I’ll see you tomorrow! Have a good rest of your day! 💕💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - ?

*queued post.

“And for the lead… Lee Seokmin! Congratulations!”

The room breaks out into a small round of applause as a crimson blush washes across Seokmin’s cheeks. A shy smile painting itself onto his lips when he steps forward to accept the script.

“Thank you, everyone… I’ll do my best to make everyone proud!”

And while he’s excited about finally being recognized for his talent, in more ways than one, he can’t help but feel a sense of dread at the thought of all his side-projects he’d accepted onto his plate.

Okay, just… I’ll think about it tonight, he tell himself - trying to calm his nerves that don’t want to stop, I have time, stop worrying. The musical doesn’t start for at least a month and a half. I can have a fixed schedule, I can make it work.

A hand plants itself onto his shoulder as he gasps in shock; eyes wide as saucers as he comes face to face with Chan who smiles at him.

“Wow, hyung! Can’t say I’m surprised! You were a total shoo-in for the part! Aren’t you excited?”

Seokmin can’t help but smile back, “Yeah! I mean, I've been really busy lately so I’m… I'm a little scared but I think I’ll be okay!”

Chan squeezes his shoulder again, reassuring the older male that he’d be okay.

“Those lessons with Jihoon-hyung are really paying off, huh?”

You end up getting a part in the production team on the lighting crew - somewhat glad you weren’t handed a spot in the actual musical.

Less time worrying about lines, you mentally celebrate.

But you hear a voice calling out your name - only to find one of your professors calling for you as he jogs over.

“Yes?”

He flips through the clipboard to check everyone’s assigned roles and shoots you a glance before clicking his tongue. “I know I put you on lighting staff but I know you have a little knowledge in costuming, right?”

“Yes, I do. Why?”

“Okay,” He sighs and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s going to ask you to switch your positions, “We had someone decide to drop from costuming and they happen to be the one who has to work with Seokmin on his so… You think you’re up for the task?”

Your cheeks are warm as you contemplate your options - lips tingling to just immediately say yes because it’s Seokmin and he’s cute and nice.

“I--I mean, w-what does that entail, exactly?” You inquire; trying to calm yourself down and figure out what your new job would require you to do.

“It’s not that much, really. Just do fittings and little fixes on his costumes here and there. You’d need to meet up a few times just when we have fittings and dry rehearsals and things like that, but that’s it. Think of it as being a bit of an assistant, of sorts. You will also have a say in makeup and hair, to some extent.”

“I--” You hesitate for a moment; biting the inside of your cheek before you say ‘screw it’.

“Yeah, I’ll do it.”

One New Message

6:54 PM

From: Seokmin

‘Hey, just got your message! 😅 We’re on for Friday then? We can celebrate our parts in the musical! 🥳 And don’t forget, dinner’s on me! Just meet me by the cafe where we met for our project, 6PM on Friday! I’ll come pick you up from there! Can’t wait! 😃’

You get to the meeting spot earlier than expected - nerves making you overthink your walking time as you stare at the clock on your phone that reads 5:45PM.

“Oh, you’re early too, huh?” Seokmin laughs as he rounds the corner and stops right in front of you, shyly scratching his cheek as the two of you share a nervous chuckle.

“I was worried I’d be late so I just… left my place early,” You reply, “Sometimes I just get lost in my thoughts ‘n stuff and then end up taking, like, 30 extra minutes.”

Seokmin nods in agreement and gestures for you to follow him. “Oh, by the way, sorry I had you meet me here, I wasn’t sure if--if you were okay with me knowing your address so I thought this might be easier?”

You smile at his back admiring his gentlemanly manner; cheeks warm when he even runs to open the car door for you.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind either. I don’t live that far from here, to be honest. You can drop me off at my apartment if you want! I don’t think you’re… A creep, or anything.”

He chuckles before shutting the door for you and jogs over to the driver’s seat and lets himself in.

“In fairness, I didn’t even know you had a car either, Seokmin.”

“I don’t,” he replies; wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Did… Did you steal it?”

“What?! No, I just borrowed it!”

Seokmin is an absolute gentleman, is what you learn over dinner.

He pulls out your chairs for you, makes sure to let you go first and even offers to escort you to the restroom when he sees you getting up from your seat.

“No, no! It’s okay, I’ll just be gone for a second and then we can talk about you getting the lead in Xcalibur!”

You giggle before you leave Seokmin alone at the table and it takes him all of a second before he remembers he never made a notice that he wouldn’t be streaming tonight either.

“Shit, how could I forget...” He mutters, looking around before he fishes for his phone in his pocket and immediately logs into his account.

‘Sorry everyone, I won’t be streaming tonight! I know it’s short notice since it’s supposed to start in just 3 hours but I’m feeling a little under the weather so I promise to do even just a short one tomorrow night! Thank you!’

He quickly checks for any typos before he posts it to his home page; sighing in relief when it goes up.

Just barely missing the way your phone vibrates in your bag the exact second the notice is posted.

Pocketing his phone, you show up a few seconds later and Seokmin rushes from his seat to help you back into yours.

“So tell me, Seokmin, how do you feel about your position?”

He hums at first, not knowing where to start with his whirlwind of emotions. “Nervous,” he replies laughing, “I know a lot of people thought I was a shoo-in for the part but it’s a lot of pressure. And I have a lot on my plate with, y’know, Jihoon’s vocal lessons and stuff.”

“Oh, you’re still taking those?”

“Mmhmm, I signed a contract with him that I’d be taking lessons up until next semester so… Kinda have to.” He sighs and shakes his head jokingly before reaching for his glass of water.

“How about you? Did you get a spot in the musical or production team?”

At this, you can’t help but laugh at your luck remembering you switched positions.

“Actually… Yeah, funny story, I’m actually on costuming now but.. Specifically, for you, only.”

“What!?” Seokmin chokes on his water - apologizing profusely when he gets it all over himself and the table. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that in an offended way just--just… Only for me?”

There’s a pale pink blush on his cheeks as he stares at you with wide eyes; squirming in his seat at the favoritism the professors had for him. “I’m, uh, sorry… That’s a little much, isn’t it?”

You take a second to ponder, shaking your head ‘no’ just a moment later. “Just from looking at the sketches, you have some of the more complicated costumes so they probably want just one person who can focus on that instead of multiple people at once, y’know? I kinda get it. Makeup and hair too, though.”

“Still… Just… Let me know when you want food or coffee and I’ll get it for you, okay? You’re going to be working so hard and only for me, too.”

Your cheeks burn hot at his kindness but you nod and mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ as he nods. “You really don’t have to do all that, Seokmin, it’s okay, I swear…”

“No way! You’re inconvenienced by me a second time! The first time was the paper! It’s the least I can do, honestly, ” He beams, “And we get to spend more time together! And I like spending time with you, it’s a nice change of pace from five guys always yelling and screaming into your ear too.”

The two of you share a laugh just as your food arrives at the table and you both thank the waiter before starting to pick at your meals.

“So, Seokmin, did you always want to be a theatre person? Or did you kinda just discover it?”

“Mm,” he starts - playing with his fork before responding, “I always really liked to sing, I guess. I did some child acting gigs when I was younger too, and I had a lot of people telling me I would probably be good at theatre… Guess they were right.”

“Oh, wow, guess you were made for it then, huh?”

“Haha, I suppose so! I like it and it’s fun and I’ve made a lot of good friends through it all. But how about you? We’ve been in a few theatre and art classes together but I feel like I don’t know much about you in that aspect.”

He gives you his full attention as you feel yourself start to sweat nervously with his curious gaze. “Oh, um, truth be told, at first I just wanted to see what it was like.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm, I was always more of a behind the scenes kind of person, to be honest. I liked seeing the directing and the process of how things were done - even just supporting from behind, y’know? I did apply for some smaller parts in the musical but I was kinda glad I got stuck on the production team.”

You smile genuinely at Seokmin, and for a second, he feels his heart do a backflip.

If only I had someone like her supporting me cam, he thinks, I’d probably be doing better.

Seokmin drops you home closer to 11PM - the two of you laughing about how time got away from you both.

“Sorry, sometimes I don’t know when to shut up, I guess.” He smiles sheepishly as he opens your door and lets you out. “Promise it won’t happen next time though.”

“There’s a next time?” You peer up at him innocently as he sputters.

“Oh, I--I mean, there--uh--there doesn’t have--have to be, sorry I--I just said--”

You cut him off with a giggle and Seokmin can’t help but blush under the moonlight at how cute he found the gesture.

“It’s okay! Really! Honestly, we’re probably going to be seeing each other a lot more because of the fittings and stuff so… I wouldn’t mind a next time.”

“O--okay, cool… Cool, I--I’ll… see you next time then?”

“Sounds good~!”

‘What is it when you want to make someone do bad things’

‘Name for wanting someone do do bad things’

‘Kink for when you want an innocent person do bad things’

Seokmin grimaces at his searches and makes a mental note to delete it all afterwards, but his fingers can��t stop trembling at the second wet dream he’d had of you - and this time, it’d been much different from the first.

“Corruption kink?” Muttering, he clicks on the article link and quickly reads through the paragraphs before he grimaces a second time and exits the page.

That’d been exactly how he was in his dream with you.

“Fuck, okay, maybe just---it’s just because she was quiet ‘n shy ‘n stuff. Yeah, yeah… And I was thinking about camming so it must’ve just--uh--mashed… Yeah...Okay...”

He continues to mumble to himself about it - convincing himself it was just an accident. Even if it was the second time.

“Shit, okay, I need to start my show before it gets any later…”

Seokmin bites his bottom lip as he opens up a page and title screen; unsure of what to name it as he sighs.

“Sorry…”

His fingers fly across the keyboard as he types up a title and hits enter before checking to make sure his mic and setup were fine before starting.

‘Daddy wants to try something different tonight… [Corruption Kink] [Audio Stream]’

You get the notification and click on it as soon as you can - excitement filling your body after you’d gotten last night’s cancellation notice when you got home.

b@d_dream: oh? Glad to see you’re back 😳

User8947694: daddddyyyy is home

Anonymous478583: daddy i’ve been so bad, please hurry

“Ah, I’m really sorry about last night, princess… Daddy had a lot of business to deal with, I was so swamped, “ He chuckles lowly and you feel it go straight to your core as you whine aloud. “But now daddy has time to take care of you, princess… And I know how needy you’ve been, huh?”

User78346: does daddy wanna corrupt his princess? is that why the title’s like that?

You bite your lip as you squirm in your chair; the temptation to move to your bed so you had more space becoming more appealing with the direction Dokyeom was taking it - and quickly.

“I do… I had a dream about you, princess… I dreamt that I walked in on you grinding against a pillow, crying out for me and begging me to fill you cute ‘lil pussy…” You let out a garbled whine at this - shaky fingers tapping away at your keyboard as you send Dokyeom a small donation and a message.

b@d_dream: please… tell me more… I’m getting so wet just thinking about what you’d do to me… I’m so needy right now daddy… I went on a date and he was so nice and we didn’t fuck or anything...

Seokmin lets out a shaky breath that he hopes doesn’t get caught on camera and for once, he hopes that he can get through the show without asking ‘b@d_dream’ for help.

I can do this, he tells himself, I read the article, I got this.

“Oh? My princess went to play with someone else while I was away? Tsk, do I need to punish you? Hmm? Slap your pretty ‘lil clit a few times with my cock? Or should I tease you and let you rub your cute ‘lil pussy on my cock but not put it inside, where you want me most?”

There’s a slurry of comments begging him for more and the confidence only builds as the numbers of viewers and donations go up.

“You’ve probably never had a cock inside of you that’s as big as mine though, huh, princess? All your little toys probably don’t even compare… Ah, you probably would just cum just from the head inside your tight ‘lil pussy, hmm?”

Anonymous859347: fuck im alredy cummign pleas.e….

User13489472: ive never cum tht fast before, give us more!

Anonymous98759445: youre so good at this daddy…

b@d_dream: i want you… in my pussy and my mouth, daddy…

Seokmin is giddy, on cloud nine even, knowing that he was somewhat of a natural at this.

Should I be scared? He asks himself.

“Ah, cute of you to think you could take me in your mouth already... When daddy had his fingers in your mouth, you could barely take it, princess... I don’t know if you could take my cock just yet.”

b@d_dream: fuck, make me take it daddy I'm a good girl...

Seokmin feels his cock throb and he can’t stop himself from palming his hardening cock over his sweats as he gives in.

“Are you? You went out with someone else without telling daddy~ Maybe I’ll fuck your pretty tits instead. Then you can imagine how good I’d feel inside you while I’m sliding against your skin.”

User38497593: oh god please

User8576945: I want you to cum all over me and make a mess daddy

“Do you deserve it, princess?”

You set the vibrator to it’s maximum setting as you cry out and mentally kick yourself for ever wanting to stop listening to Dokyeom’s audio streams.

“Fuck, it’s s-so good...” You whimper, eyes clamped shut as you listen to his breathy moans - knowing he was getting off with you this time.

“My cock is so hard, princess... So much pre-cum is leaking from the tip... I wanna let you feel me, right where you want me... I’d tease your pretty ‘lil wet hole... Then drag my cock up to your clit and tease you there too. I bet you’d cum just from that, wouldn’t you, princess? Then you’d beg me for more and more until you’re the one pushing me down and trying to get my cock whenever you want.”

Rapid cries of ‘yes’ fall from your lips as you feel yourself cum for the first time; toes curling as you grind down onto the toy underneath you.

“I’ll turn you into my cockhungry ‘lil princess... Won’t you like that? Craving me all the time and wanting me to fill your needly ‘lil holes up with my cock?”

“Daddy, daddy, daddy...” You whimper - making no efforts to turn the toy off as Dokyeom’s breaths only get faster.

“Fuck, I wanna cum so bad, princess... Mm, imagine how good you’ll feel when I cum inside you for the first time too... Bet you wouldn’t even want me to pull out, huh? You can cockwarm me while I keep you plugged up and full of my cum.”

b@d_dream: I already came daddy but I wanna cum again s o bad

User0843975: fuck me too my legs r shaking

Anonymous448739: daddy plz make us cum

“I want you to cum with me princess,” he drawls; hand tightening around his throbbing cock as his hips thrust up into his closed fist, “Want you to get loud for daddy when he covers you in cum and then next time maybe I’ll be nice enough to let you get a taste of my cock.”

Seokmin throws his head back against the headrest of his chair - making sure he’s still within distance of his mic to catch his breathy groans.

“And princess? If you ever go on a ‘lil date with someone else, let me know beforehand. I’ll make sure to cum in your panties so you can see him with your panties full of my fuckin’ cum.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your quivering thighs clamp shut with your hand between them - the thought of seeing Seokmin with someone else’s cum in your panties throwing you over the edge and making you orgasm a second time in only a few minutes.

“Oh, f-fuck, mmnh, Dokyeom!” You cry out into your room; soft whines following suit as you hear his rapid breaths and muttered curses as he rides out his high with you.

“Fuck, princess, I came so much... It’s all over my hand~ But I bet you’d rather it be inside you, huh?” He whispers teasingly and you find yourself crying out a small ‘Seokmin’ before you gasp and catch yourself.

Oh my god, no, you mentally cry, don’t do that!

b@d_dream: daddy I was a bad girl...

Seokmin sits up after he rides out the remnants of his orgasm - brow quirked as he catches your comment.

“Oh? Were you? How come, princess?” He sits with his hand still wrapped around his cock; cum drying on his skin as he licks his lips. “You know I have to punish bad girls, right?”

b@d_dream: I know... I was thinking about my date when I came for a second time... 😣 sorry... I didn’t mean to...

Seokmin scoffs right into the mic, eyes rolling cockily before he speaks.

“Guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson about calling out another guy’s name when you cum then, huh, princess? What’s so great about him anyway?”

1 New Message

Dokyeom: Hey! Sorry if I put you on the spot earlier, it kinda fueled me 😅 But I do hope your date went well, if you actually did go!

#seokmin smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seokmin scenarios #seokmin imagines #dokyeom smut #dokyeom scenarios #dokyeom imagines #seventeen imagines #svt fic #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #dokyeom #seokmin

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Sunny Side Up

Summary: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, right? And for Mike, there’s no better way to start it than by eating his favourite thing, ever.

Pairing: Mike Weiss x Reader

Warnings: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Brief mentions of drug addiction- nothing graphic. Language!

A/N: So this was what popped into my head after seeing @imanuglywombat post that damned latest Sex Position as part of her downright filthy and wonderful “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “The Special Breakfast”. See here for more information. And you can totally blame @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for this one. I wasn’t gonna write it but…yeah, I did. Sorry not sorry. I’ve tried to make the reader as non-descript and as inclusive as I can but I don’t usually do reader x fics so I apologise if it hasn’t quite hit the mark.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Tagged my permanent tag list.

Main Masterlist

********

“No, that’s not the same, at all.” Mike’s voice drifted up the hallway of you house as you closed the door behind you, shutting out the bitter January wind that has descended over Dover. “Yeah, well they signed up to the terms so....”

You glanced at your watch, it wasn’t even seven-AM yet and he was already on to someone about the current case he was working. But then, that was Mike all over. An addict, only now you were glad to say the only thing flooding his system was adrenaline and passion for his work.

You hung your jacket up on the pegs by the door, unwrapped your woollen scarf from round your neck and placed that over the hook above your jacket and then reached down to unzip you boots, before toeing them off. Your sock clad feet padded down the wooden floor of the hall towards the kitchen and you walked in to see Mike was bent over a file on the island in the middle, already dressed for the office.

“Clause ninety-one, paragraph twenty, sub-bullet two. Yup. We’ll present that to them today, give them chance to respond.” He paused for a moment, his head turning to you, a warm smile spreading across his face as you leaned over for a quick peck before you headed to the fridge for a soda. “Yeah. Okay, no problem, see you about half eight.”

With that he placed the cordless phone down and turned to face you.

“Morning, Baby.” He grinned, before he nodded to the Diet Coke in your hand. “Interesting choice of drink for breakfast.”

“Technically it’s not my breakfast time.” You shrugged back. “More like dinner, I suppose.”

Mike chuckled as he crossed to space towards you, his hands falling to your hips before he bent down and brushed his lips against yours in a hardly there kiss. “Good shift?”

“A heart attack, car accident, two broken legs, couple of flu cases and a shit tonne of idiotic drunks, the finest Delaware has to offer.” You shrugged. “Usual shit.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Dr Y/L/N”

“Lucky for you I do, or we’d have never met.”

“And I’d be dead.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, swallowing a little. The memory of that night almost eighteen months ago was still raw. If you hadn’t stopped by at Mike’s that evening following an argument the pair of you had earlier in the day, you’d never have found him almost dead from an overdose. It had been a long road to recovery, and whilst nothing was ever proven, Mike and Paul were convinced that it was something to do with the safety needle case they had been working. Despite the fact that there was enough heroin in his system to stop his heart, Mike swore blind to you he hadn’t taken anything but a few lines that night, and there was something about the way he said it that made you believe him. And so did Paul.

The authorities never managed to prove anything, but there was one good thing to come out of it. When you had broken down and told Mike how scared you’d been that he was going to die and that you couldn’t cope anymore with the constant fear that one day he would kill himself for real, it gave Mike the final kick he needed because he didn’t want to lose you.

So he got clean. And this time he did it for good.

It wasn’t easy, for either of you. Once he was medically fit enough, Mike had been placed on a programme at a Rehab Centre, whereby he saw no one bar trained medical specialists and councillors for six weeks. It felt like the longest six weeks of your life but he did it. And when you went to pick him up, you instantly burst into tears at how different he looked, how better he looked, how healthy he looked.

The road to recovery is a long one, paved with temptations, you knew that being a Doctor. And whilst Mike knew and understood his triggers thanks to his programme, those temptations met him everywhere, especially because he knew exactly where and how to get his fix. So the pair of you agreed to take a fresh start. You traded Texas for Delaware, the State you were originally from, and you were beyond proud to be able to honestly state that Mike Weiss had been clean now for eighteen months. Well, apart from alcohol that is. But even that was enjoyed in moderation, and to be honest, you’d rather him sit at home with a glass or two of bourbon each night that sticking fuck knows what into his veins.

You cocked your head to one side as his hands flexed on your hip and he gave you a little side smile. “Sorry. Oh, hey guess who I got a call from?”

“Who?” You asked as he stepped back, grinning.

“The Alligator Farm. Snappy’s got himself a lady friend. They’re gonna send me some photos and stuff.”

You smiled, giving up that beloved alligator had been a hard sell to Mike. “That’s great.”

“Yeah. Oh and Paul was thinking of coming over with the family in the spring. I said they could stay here, I know it’ll be a squeeze but is that okay?”

“Course it is.” You reached up to cup his cheek. “It’ll be lovely to see them again.”

Mike smiled and dropped another kiss to your lips, this one slightly stronger before you pat his chest as he rest his forehead against yours.

“I need to go shower.”

“Want me to come join you?” He asked, eyebrow raised and you smiled.

“As good as that sounds there’s something else I want more.”

“Oh yeah?” He grinned, his eyes flickering down to the buttons on your blouse and you laughed.

“Calm down, Stud. I want pancakes and bacon, I don’t give a shit what time it’s supposed to be for me.”

Mike groaned as you moved away from where you’d been stood with your back to the large, stainless steel fridge and headed out of the room. He watched you go, the gently sway of your hips in your well fitted black pants made his groin twitch. He was half tempted to fuck your demands and go and jump you in the shower whether you wanted him to or not, but he’d seen the flicker your face had given when you’d described how your twelve-hour shift had gone down. Despite your blasé tone, he knew you too well and understood exactly how tired and stressed you were feeling. So, instead, he turned his attention to making breakfast.

Something he prided himself on was his cooking ability. He’d picked it up pretty fast since you’d moved here, he found it was a welcome distraction, so much so you very rarely made meals now, bar when you insisted on doing a roast which he never argued against. Within fifteen minutes he had a stack of pancakes, bacon, eggs- sunny side up, as you preferred- all laid out on the island and ready for you to help yourself to. He’d just poured you an orange juice when you walked back into the kitchen, hair piled on your head in a messy bun, wrapped in a dressing gown and he was pleased to see you looked relaxed.

“Oh, Mikey, this looks great!” You smiled as he wrapped an arm round you, kissing your head. He watched as you helped yourself to a huge plateful before making your way over to the table and sitting down with a sigh. Mike tucked his tie into his shirt to avoid it dropping into his food and plated himself a helping up before he sat down at the place next to you, cracking his neck slightly. The pair of you chatted about the day ahead, which for you consisted of sleeping until it was time to get up for your next shift, Mike’s contained a meeting with a company who he was currently in the process of negotiating a settlement with on behalf of a client. When you’d finished, Mike made to clear away the dishes but you gently placed your hand on his arm and stood up, insisting on doing it as he’d cooked.

When you returned to the table, Mike pushed his chair back slightly and patted his knee.

“Come ‘ere.” He smiled softly and you grinned, settling yourself on his lap sideways, your arm looping round his shoulder, fingers gently playing with his suspenders. He gave a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your head, happy to simply be close to you for a moment.

“You doing okay?” You asked and he smiled, your words carrying that hidden meaning- ‘Do you want a fix, today?’

“I’m good, Babes.” He pulled back to look at you. “I promise.”

Smiling you gently placed your lips on his in a soft kiss, which soon became heated as Mike’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. He was pleased when you reciprocated, opening your mouth slightly to allow him in. He could taste the sweetness of the syrup on you from your pancakes and, as your tongue gently swirled against his, he let out a little groan from the back of his throat and he felt you smile.

“How long till you have to be in the office?” Your voice was lower than you’d intended, betraying exactly what you had in mind and Mike grinned at you, pulling back a little, as he glanced up at the clock.

“Just over forty-five minutes, why?”

You bit your lip, fingers toying once more with his suspenders which were clipped to the waistband of his light, grey trousers and sat over a maroon shirt, set off with a black tie. “Do I gotta spell it out to you, Weiss?”

“No, I just like hearing you beg.” A cheeky glint flashed in his eyes and you gave a snort.

“I do not beg.”

“Really?” He arched an eyebrow and in a swift moment he stood up, causing you to give a shriek of a giggle as he sat you on the table in front of him. “I bet,” he pushed on your shoulders causing you to rest your weight on your elbows as he loomed over you, gently reaching for the tie on your robe, “that I can have you singing my name and begging for more,” his hands made quick work of the knot and pulled it open, before his fingers slid up the front, opening it to leave you bare in front of him, “in less than five minutes flat.”

“Less than five minutes?” You looked up at him, his eyes blown with lust and you smirked. “You’re so full of shit.”

He wasn’t though, you knew full well that you were the one full of shit. Mike had on many an occasion had you crying his name in less time than it took you to sing a verse of the National Anthem, and he knew it as the cocky expression on his face showed.

“Oh, Baby Girl.” He chuckled, bending over, his mouth brushing against that spot on your neck, the bristles of his short beard scratching your skin. “Have you learnt nothing, yet?”

“Only that you’re a cocky little bastard.” You tried to keep your voice level but it didn’t work. Your words came out a shaky whisper as one of his hands gently splayed on your stomach and brushed up your body to your sternum as he peppered hot, opened mouthed kisses across your collar bone, before his lips ghosted up your neck, over your chin and his mouth claimed yours in a searing kiss as his hand palmed at your breast. As he rolled your nipple between his finger and thumb you gave a moan and he smirked against your mouth.

Suddenly, he was gone from over you and you frowned, missing his sudden presence and you propped yourself up on your elbows to see him settling back in the chair by the table.

“Mike, what the-“

You were cut off as he reached over, grabbing your ass and hoisting your pelvis up, pulling you towards him. Before you could register what was going on, your legs were over his shoulders and you just caught a glimpse of his face, as he quirked an eyebrow at you, lips curled upwards in that maddeningly smug bastard grin, before his mouth was trailing up the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, Jesus.” You let out a little groan as he neared the place you now desperately wanted him and he chuckled.

“No, just me.”

“Fuck off you-“ But whatever it was you were going to call him flew from your mind as his tongue licked up your sex, and grazed against your clit, teasing it with quick, hardly there flicks which, you were ashamed to say, had you riled up something feral. His hands palmed at your ass, his fingers curling round the outside of your thighs as he quickened his movements, his mouth expertly devouring you, tongue flicking into your entrance as his lips circled that sensitive nub, giving a suck that made you cry out, your back arching off the table, pushing yourself further onto his face.

Mike let out a chuckle which vibrated exquisitely against you and you gasped again, your hands slapping onto the cool surface of the table, fingernails feeling the grain of the wood as he upped his efforts dramatically, lips and tongue teasing you in a way that was so delectable it was teetering along that fine line between pain and pleasure. His mouth expertly devoured every inch of you, from your inner and outer pussy lips to the depths of your walls, tongue fucking you like you he was starving, despite the breakfast the pair of you had eaten moments ago.

“Fuck, Mike, I need…” Your voice was croaky, the words sounded far off as they bounced around your lust addled brain and once again he chuckled.

“I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah you arrogant sh-oooh fuck!” You cried as he gently nipped your clit. “Shit!”

You were willing yourself to remain grounded, wanting to prove him wrong but you couldn’t. You couldn’t fight the urge you felt to ride over the edge which was building like a fire inside you. When his mouth was over you completely once more, tongue deep, you felt him move one of his hands and his thumb pressed against your clit, before the pressure eased off and his tongue slipped away.

"Okay, okay you win, Mike, please for the love of God!” You groaned and with a final, maddeningly smug chuckle he dove back in, only this time when you felt your orgasm brewing he didn’t stop. One of your hands flew to his hair, pulling lightly on his soft, spiky strands and he gave a growl as you tugged, his efforts doubling once more as his beard scratched against your sensitive pussy and inner thighs. The coil in your belly was tightening, your entire body quivered and with a final flick of his tongue you gave a cry as your orgasm crashed over you. Your toes curled into his back just below his shoulders, your own back arched as your walls clamped down over nothing, the room fading out as everything went silent and the lights erupted in front of your eyes, your entire body feeling like you were floating.

Mike grinned, guiding you through your release before he stood up, pulling you further to the end of the table as he undid the flies on his trousers, freeing his painfully hard erection. The swollen head of his dick gently swirled around your folds before he buried himself inside you, groaning as he felt you fluttering around him in the after throes of your orgasm. You let out a low groan and finally opened your eyes, looking up at him as he pounded into you, fully clothed, those fucking suspenders that drove you wild still looped over his shoulders.

He slid one, large hand under your back and pulled you up causing you to cry out as he drove deeper into you, his hand on the base of your back pulling you up and towards him as he dipped his head to give you a dirty, sloppy kiss whilst he rolled and thrust into you. Then His lips moved down, nipping at your neck, his breath hot on your ear as your head fell back, a low moan rumbling in his throat.

“God, I love seeing you like this, fucking wrecked all because of me.” His panted words made you groan even more as the heat in your groin was beginning to mount again. “Makes me higher than any fucking drug ever could.”

His thrusts continued, hard, deep, and you felt his dick throbbing inside you as he drove up against your spot, his lips back on yours as he kissed you hard, swallowing the pants and whimpers you were making as you began to teeter on that cliff edge again. With a deep roll of his hips you let out a low wail and came, once more, your core spasmed around him as your entire body tingled, and that was enough for him to follow you. With a powerful thrust he stiffened, a low grunt stuttering from his lips as he pulsed inside of you, his hips growing sloppy before they stopped completely. His chest heaving, he pressed his forehead to yours, the pair of you gasping for breath as you came down from your high.

“Shit, Mike.” You managed to stutter as he grinned, his lips meeting yours in a soft peck. “That was…”

“Yeah, I was pretty good.” He chuckled and you slapped his arm as he moved and pulled out of you. You straightened your robe and stood up, wincing as you felt his release trickled down your inner thigh.

“I need another shower.” You grumbled, before you glanced at his crotch, the damp patch where he’d pressed against you was clear as day. “And you should probably change your trousers.”

Mike glanced down before his eyes met you, and he shrugged. “Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll go into the office like this and then every time I see it I’ll be reminded exactly what a damned good breakfast I had this morning.”

You blinked before you shook your head, scoffing. “You’re gross.”

He laughed. “You love it, Sweetheart.”

“I love you.” You corrected, your hands sliding up over his shoulders and he smiled, a pure, innocent smile that made him look like a schoolboy before he took your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, pulling away, his nose bumping against yours.

“I love you too.” He whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “Now go, before I decide to play hooky for the day.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Weiss.” You smirked, before with one final quick peck you left the room.

Mike watched you go, before he ran his hands through his hair and turned to glance around the kitchen, his eyes falling to the table he’d just fucked you senseless on.

He should probably clean that before he went to work…

#uglywombatsexpositionchallenge #mike weiss #mike weiss x reader #mike weiss x you #mike weiss reader insert #reader insert #mike weiss fanfic #mike weiss smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

Break.

Request by @lucywrites02 (If you find some time could you write a fic about reader being really stressed about their exams and Loki saying something mean and then they break down and Loki has no idea what's happening but then tries to help the reader? It can be a headcanon or a one shot)

N/A: It do be like that sometimes. Unfortunately I think we can all relate to this state of mind. Hope this helps alliviate the tension a bit. Remember to take care of yourself; health is more important than grades.

Warnings: anxious thoughts, mentions of suicide attempt (the Bifrost thing from Loki), angst. Happy ending.

Word count: 2.3 K

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @jesuswasnotawhiteman)

You organized your folders once again, hoping the cleaner desk would give you some motivation to keep going. It didn’t, but you stayed. Your stomach growled and it hinted you to look at the clock. Oh, no. Five in the morning? But you barely started. You still had so many things to do before dawn.

You got up and stretched your legs and back. Your eyelids, heavier than ever, were not helping at all. Your mind was still everywhere, and you had to keep your head distracted to not think in the thousand things you still couldn’t get done. The mere thought of that made you shiver, almost throwing you into a spiral of anxious thoughts. You shook your head off and walked to the bathroom. Splashing some cold water in your face, you stood in front of the mirror. Eyebags that made you more similar to a racoon gave you the idea of making some more coffee. At that time you'd already forgotten you were going to get some food; your head was so full it couldn't even retain basic information.

As silently as you could, you walked down to the kitchen of the compound. You brought your books with yourself. Couldn’t waste some other five or ten minutes, couldn’t you? Filling the kettle and putting it on the fire, you got distracted watching the shapes of the fire.

“Zoned out?”, inquired Loki behind you. You jumped, frightened.

“What are you doing up so early?”, you asked.

“What are you doing up so late?”. You pointed at the books and he nodded. “You’re still with those things”.

“Want some coffee?”.

“No, thanks. I think I’m gonna try to sleep on the couch”.

He moved to the living room area and opened a book, laying down on the nearest couch. It all looked so cozy, so comfortable. You redirected your gaze to your cup of coffee and academic books, waiting for you to fry your head a little (a lot) more. Oh, how much you would’ve loved to take a break, sit in there with a fiction book and a warm mug of hot cocoa, wrapped up in… no. Don’t do this. Don’t torture yourself like that.

You probably shouldn’t have been drinking coffee. Your heart was already going abnormally fast, product and cause of the anxiety you were accumulating. But you did, trying to get your eyes opened. The table you settled in was confronting the living room area, and Loki observed you read and write incessantly in those big piles of books and papers.

You didn’t hear his footsteps. Out of nowhere he appeared behind you, reading the pages that were troubling you so much. You jumped once again. He was distracting you, you were tired and stressed, and, as if it weren’t enough, your heart was going to explode with all those frightens he was giving you.

“Are you going on the next…?”.

“Loki, I can’t give you attention right now”, you cut him off as kindly as you could. Your voice was slightly broken, so you swallowed and hid it. You two weren’t close enough to actually explain to him you were about to drown if you kept getting distracted from the assignments.

“I don’t need your attention”, he scoffed, slightly offended. “Not a puppy you have to play with”.

“Alright. Can you leave?”.

He sighed and went back to the couch. After about half an hour, your head fell to the pages and gave your brain the pause it so hardly needed. About an hour later, everyone on the compound was up and having breakfast around you, waking you up with the noises.

“Y/n, what are you doing sleeping in here?”, asked Thor. “What are all those things you have in there?”.

“Those things, brother, are books. They are for reading and gaining knowledge, I’m certain you haven’t heard of them before”, mocked Loki, gaining a chuckle from you. “It’s not like you seem to be gaining much either, though”, told you, referring to your nap.

“I was exhausted, but I’m...”.

“Mortals are such weakies”, he said, getting up and serving himself a cup of tea. “They read three pages and already get tired of using their little brains”.

You knew he was kidding, for he had told you many times before he considered you one of the brightest youngsters he had ever encountered. But you couldn’t look at the big picture right now. Your head was still overwhelmingly loud with fears, tiredness, stress. The only sight of that pile of books made you shiver, realizing how little time you had to study. And Loki was right. You felt yourself so stupid, so weak. No matter how hard you worked and overworked yourself, you couldn’t get the damn things done right.

A knot in your throat gave you the hint to leave. The last thing you needed was to cry in front of them. You went back to your room, not without another cup of coffee before. So, you grabbed your things as fast as you could and ran to the kitchen. You hadn’t noticed Loki had followed you, thinking it was alright to mock; play around. You weren’t exactly friends, but enjoyed each other’s teasing every once in a while. He thought it’d cheer you up, or make you laugh.

“Hey”, he said behind you, and you jumped once again, dropping your mug to the floor. It got smashed to pieces. “Oh, what a clumsy little human”. You chuckled at his comment, containing a sob. He read it as if it was alright to keep teasing you, so he did. “I’d say you’re dumb because of not sleeping, but you generally just are like this”.

You didn’t answer, but your heart ached. You weren’t in the mood for his tough-love, so you rolled your eyes, sighed, and tried to pick up the pieces of broken ceramic. He didn't look satisfied with your silence. You'd usually insult him back, and laugh together.

“Your hair’s gross. Have you showered at all?” he said once again, touching the tip of one strand of your hair. You haven’t, you didn’t have time. You didn’t answer, and instead blushed. “Careful, don’t touch that sink, you might get a reaction”.

“What?”.

“Since you’re allergic to water”.

“Out of all the mean things you can say you go for my poor hygiene?”.

“Would you like me to stop insulting your appearance and instead go for anything else? I have a long list”.

“Just… leave me alone”.

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna keep trying to understand what you so clearly can’t?”, he said while you were leaving with all your stuff, and you stood in place, facing the door. You were so, so glad you were backwards, because then he would’ve seen you tear up.

He was joking, he was just playing around. But going for that just in your worst moments? That was plain mean. You shook your head, he didn’t know, you’ve never said a thing about your stress, and he didn’t see how overworked and overwhelmed you were. He didn't know that was one of your biggest insecurities.

“I’d say you give up already. There are certain things dummies like you simply can’t achieve”, he continued. He had no idea, so he just kept going, hoping to get a reaction. A laugh, a chuckle or a “fuck you”. Even a punch. Any of the reactions he would usually get from you. But he didn’t expect what followed, at all.

You sobbed. One sob, just sharp and loud enough for him to have heard it. He stopped dead on his tracks. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t move either. He saw how you tilted your head, facing the floor, and dropped a tear. He immediately walked to you and grabbed both of your hands, facing you.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of those things, dear”, he softened his voice. “I was just joking around”.

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, it’s just that I’m very stressed”, was what you tried to say. Instead, your sobs turned into a full blown cry. Your face went red from embarrassment, and anger, and stress, and tiredness, and it all just became too much for you to bear alone. Loki sensed it and hugged you tightly, pressing your head against his chest and hushing you tenderly.

“What happened? Is someone ill?”, he whispered, and you felt even more stupid, because you were crying over grades and papers. Not real things, like you used to think to diminish your stress and pack up all your feelings in a tiny bottle. But the tiny bottle became too tiny for your big feelings, and it finally exploded. You still couldn’t talk. Tears running down your face, you were hugging Loki back, hiding your face on him.

“Nobody’s ill, don’t worry”, you managed to say after a while. He nodded.

“I worry about you. Come, let me get you comfortable”, he said in your ear, and lifted you up carefully. You chuckled in between sobs. An emotional roller coaster. He carried you to his bedroom (and ignored the weird looks and stares from everyone else, because, let’s be honest; that was an unusual sight), and made you sit in his bed, wrapping you up in a weighted blanket (oh, you loved those).

He left for less than a minute and came back with a steaming cup of tea, some chocolate, and a few CDs. He sat in the bed by your side and gave you the cup. You wiped some tears away, and with trembling hands left the tea carefully over the bedside table and went for another hug. He wrapped himself around you, as a second blanket, and caressed your hair and neck with his cold fingers until your sobs stopped and you finally calmed down.

After a while, he cupped your face and looked at you very closely. Too close, even. Gave you a comforting look, with a warmth on his eyes you have never seen on anyone before.

“Better?”, he whispered.

“A bit, yeah”.

“Want to talk it out? Movie marathon? Chocolate?”.

You smiled and blushed a bit, again.

“Sorry, I’m just… really stressed. I thought I could manage better, but… this is just not it”.

“School?”.

“You must think I’m an idiot”.

“No way”, he assured you, frowning. “You know what I think of you. You’re incredibly smart”.

“I’m not, I’m doing so poorly on my exams and assignments, and…” you tried to explain, and the overwhelming weight of everything fell on your chest again. Your eyes watered.

“You’re overworking yourself too much, darling. You need to take a day off, or two”.

“I have no time, I won’t get anything done”.

“Well, you certainly won’t get anything done in this breakdown state of mind”, he said as tenderly as he could. He was right, and you sighed. You started fidgeting nervously with your fingers, tearing your cuticles. Almost as a reflex act, he grabbed your hands and caressed them so you would stop hurting them. “You humans run around the entirety of your lives. You spend it all running, speeding, not taking time to feel enough, to be rested and fulfilled enough”, he started saying, rocking you back and forth “you think you don’t have enough time, but for what?”.

“To do all the things I want”.

“And those are…? Careers to do? Places to visit? They all come to the same thing, love”.

“Feeling well?”.

“Yes”, he nodded. Your throat tightened once again, but this time out of relief. You really needed to hear this. “If you feel well doing these things, you won’t feel you’re wasting time once you finally rest. I’ve lived a thousand years. Do you think I always wanted to spend my life doing the same things?”.

“Well, no”.

“But it all came to the same thing when I thought I died”.

“You... what?”.

“I was on the Bifrost, about to fall. I wanted to feel good, to feel accepted, to feel loved by the people I loved”.

“It’s all we want at the end. I guess I overwork myself to make them proud”.

“I did too. And at the end, even when I tried my hardest, I couldn’t make them proud”.

“Oh God”, you said. He was still hugging and caressing you, as if the story he was telling didn’t affect him anymore. “And you…”.

“I threw myself off it”, he stated. You stopped and looked at him.

“Oh”.

“But”, he brought back to your hands the cup of tea “I survived. Even then, I kept thinking through the fogged lenses of doing something big for a future purpose, not paying any mind to my actual motivations”.

“How do you feel now?”.

“You know, if I wouldn’t have survived, I wouldn’t taste this amazing cup of tea” he said, sipping a bit from the cup still in your hands and bringing it to his cheek, warming him up. “And I wouldn’t be able to watch all these movies with you. And I would’ve missed all the Midgardians books I’ve read on Earth. And I wouldn’t have met anyone on here. And maybe, even looking closer, I wouldn’t have pushed all your buttons to break down so you would still be bottling up your stress and maybe even have had a heart attack and died unhappy and unfulfilled”.

“Wow there”. You both laughed. You rested your head on his lap and he watched you with a glimpse of a smile.

“What I’m trying to say is, take it one step at a time. Look at the big picture. Enjoy the process. All those things you midgardians say so often, they have almost lost all meaning. They sound cliché. They shouldn’t; for they are very true”.

“Thank you, Loki”, you sighed and started braiding one strand of his hair.

“Now go take a bath or something, stinky”. You both laughed. It was all fine.

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Note

Have you ever done like a high school aged au except Levi and Hanji are penpals?

so levihan here aren't exacty penpals and it's a high school!au, but this idea has been living in my head ever since i received your ask so i hope you enjoy this fic, anon, because i dedicate it to you <333

As cliche as it sounded, but Hange never thought that her life was gonna be this way.

When she finished her journalistic degree, when she graduated from university on top of the class, everyone kept saying, "A bright future is ahead of you, Zoe. The whole world is at your fingertips..."

And Hange had believed them, Hange had expected it too. Uncovering the truth, saving people with the might of her words, making the world a better place one article at a time. Hange couldn't wait to get started and make her dream come true.

And then...

And then every serious newspaper turned her application down, not ready to give a chance for someone with a lot of skills and even more brains, but not enough experience, and then her pride got in the way, and so she didn't wish to settle for some local, small newspaper, refusing to waste her degree and years of hard work on some mediocrity.

And now, here she is - working as an advice columnist for Sina's Gossip.

Not a place Hange ever thought she'd end up at. Not a place she would have ended up at, if she had a choice. But she didn't have that choice, had taken it away herself when she refused offers from more respectable newspapers and didn't get a job at the place she had aimed for.

The magazine isn’t large, small enough for Hange not to know about it at all prior to receiving the job offer. She wouldn't have looked at that job offer twice, would have dismissed it immediately after seeing the name Sina's Gossip written on top, but as chance had it, she scrolled through the letter and saw the name at the end.

Erwin Smith.

The Erwin Smith, a local star who had disappeared from public eye some years ago. And now Hange knew where he had gone to.

He was only in his thirties, and already made a name for himself after he uncovered a conspiracy at the local pharmaceutical company. Just like Hange, perhaps even more so, he had a bright future ahead of him. But suddenly he quitted his job and founded his own magazine.

Hange would be lying if she said she wasn't at the very least a little bit intrigued at Erwin's sudden change of course.

That's why she agreed to a meeting with him. And that was her mistake.

Because Erwin turned out to be handsome, intelligent and charming to the point of ridiculousness. He smiled, spoke a few flattering words and next Monday Hange was already on her way to Sina's Gossip, where she started off as a mere copy editor.

It's been three years since that fated meeting, and Hange is still here, now promoted to an advice columnist. And, despite it not being what she dreamed of, despite working at a gossip magazine she used to despise... She likes it here.

She likes the people she works with, and she likes people she works for.

The letters people send her, asking for an advice or sharing their grievances, Hange likes them too. Enjoys reading them again and again, mulling over each word, looking at presented problem from each angle and doing her best to come up with the best advice possible.

Perhaps it's a simple wishful thinking or whispers of an ego she still hasn't lost, but Hange likes to think she helps these people. Solves their problems, guides them through trying times. Or brightens their day, at least.

She's not saving the world like she dreamt of, but she's making it a better place - or strives to, at least. Sometimes people she helped write her again, thanking for kind and wise words. Hange takes huge pride in that. The job pays well, enough for her to rent a small apartment and live comfortably, but it's these sincere words of gratitude that she treasures the most.

And what makes her hold onto her position in Sina's Gossip even more is the people that work alongside her. Erwin is a kind, if a little dorky man. And he gathered a team of similar people. They're all experts in their respective fields too, Erwin went through great lengths to get them all aboard.

When Hange just started working, the prospect of meeting new people made her more than a little bit nervous. As much as she liked other people and enjoyed getting to know them, getting along, truly belonging somewhere was always a problem for her. Too loud and too weird, she was usually an outcast.

But not at Sina's Gossips.

There, almost right from the beginning, ever since she walked through the glass sliding doors and met a tall man who started sniffing her, she knew she would feel right at home.

In the end, she wasn't wrong. The employees of Sina's Gossips became colleagues, then friends and then family.

She loves them all, even the grumpy midget who opens the door to her office without knocking, his face showing no ounce of friendliness or joy.

But— he's holding a cup of coffee in his hands, and even if Hange were truly annoyed, she'd forgive him just for that.

"Four-eyes," he says, a greeting and complaint at the same time. Hange lets it slide too. Levi hands her the paper cup with coffee, and it's still hot, almost burning her fingers. Lifting the cup to her lips proves that the coffee is black with three sugars, just as Hange always takes it. For that, she's ready forgive Levi any possible sin. "Are you neglecting your work once again?"

"No," that is an offence worth pouting, and Hange does exactly that. She wasn't neglecting anything, how could he even think about it. She's just been staring in the distance for... Hange glances at the clock on her computer screen... For almost ten minutes now.

Alright, maybe, Levi wasn’t completely wrong about that one. Not that Hange will ever admit it to him.

“Did you check the letters I send to you then?”

Hange blinks, a little startled. Letters? It’s the letters day already?

Another quick glance to her computer screen tells her that yes, it’s Tuesday and the letters day already.

Levi takes a seat at the other side of her desk with an irritated grumble. “I sent them to you last night, you ass.”

Hange snickers at the profanity. For an editor, Levi possesses a surprisingly foul mouth.

“I’m checking them now,” she bites her lip, opening the mail. Right beneath advertisements and notifications from her social media, there is a letter from Levi, just as he said there would be. Hange opens it, downloading the archive. As soon as she clicks on it, her eyes light up in anticipation. She starts scrolling down, swiftly going over each letter.

A father who doesn’t know what to give his estranged son for his tenth birthday…

A woman who is worried that her sister is dating a gangster…

A strange man who lost his pet lobster…

A teenage girl who isn’t sure what she wants more – to move to another city to the university of her dreams or stay at her hometown with her best friend and boyfriend…

Hange greedily drinks in every word, hurrying to get to the bottom. What if there is a letter from him…

Levi interrupts her by kicking her leg under the desk.

“I’m glad you finally decided to pay attention to your work,” he pauses, his scowl deepening. In her head, Hange finishes his sentence for him – but now, I want you to pay attention to me. God, Levi is just the cutest. So endearing and precious, and he tries to hide it so hard. Nothing gets past Hange, though. “But I didn’t come here to stare at your deranged smile.”

Obediently, Hange shifts her gaze from a screen to Levi, staring at him with a hand beneath her chin. “Why did come here then?”

“You have a meeting this Friday, remember?”

A meeting, meeting… It takes Hange a long moment to catch up with what Levi is talking about.

“A meeting!” she yells, when it dawns on her at last. She snaps her fingers, grinning at Levi. “Of course, a meeting, with that guy from, mm…” she frowns, tapping her forehead. “From Monkey Island?”

“Money Island,” Levi corrects, but he does so with a hoarse chuckle, and Hange mentally pats herself on a back.

After all, who doesn’t enjoy making their attractive co-workers laugh? Especially if they’re just as broody as Levi?

“Do you remember his name at least?”

“Zeke Yeager, right?”

“Right,” Levi nods, and it could be Hange’s imagination, but his face becomes just a little darker, and his voice just a little gruffer.

Hange’s senses start tingling…

“Do you know each other?”

And, yep, there it is – Levi purses his lips, turning his head to the side to mutter a quiet curse. “We’ve graduated from the same university.”

In what world that is a reason enough for such apparent dislike? Hange longs to know more, find out every possible detail.

Levi sees that desire reflect on her face, and sighs. “He’s an asshole,” he reveals. “Who loves his asshole little brother.”

It doesn’t explain much anyway, but Hange feels like it’s the best she can get out of Levi. She decides to surrender and quell her curiosity, just this once.

“This is the only reason why you came? To remind me about the meeting? I have an assistant for that, Levi.”

Lifting his thin eyebrow, Levi gives her a long look. Hange struggles not to fidget under it. What has gotten into him?

“You really don’t remember,” Levi shakes his head, his disappointment more than transparent. “Four-eyes, Berner is on a sick leave. Had been for three days already.”

Oh, right… that’s why no one answered when she yelled a greeting upon entering the office. That’s why she forgot about the letters day. And that’s why she was staring in the distance for almost ten minutes.

She awkwardly giggles, rubbing her neck. “It just slipped my mind.”

“Lots of things do,” Levi rolls his eyes. “Don’t forget about meeting with Yeager, though. He’s an asshole but—”

“But an important man,” Hange finishes for him. She knows that, can hardly forget about that, since Erwin is so adamant at reminding her every time they cross paths at the office. “I know, I know, that interview is important just as that Zeke is. It can make our magazine more popular and blah, blah, blah.”

“Not only our magazine,” Levi sharply retorts. “It’s a chance for you too, Hange. Don’t ruin it.”

There is an uncharacteristic intensity in his voice, one that turns Hange speechless.

It’s a surprise that Levi knows about her ambitions at all, of course, she told him same as she told practically every person she came across. One day, I’ll show you, I’ll show you all just how great I can be. But it’s a surprise Levi not only knows, but remembers about it. It’s a surprise that he seems to care whether she truly achieves her dreams or not.

“Do you wish to come with me?”

It tumbles out of her lips without a second thought. But just as her mouth starts moving, Hange realizes that she truly wants it, wants to have Levi there with her. As a moral support, if nothing more.

Levi doesn’t answer her right away. His eyes narrow, as he mulls it over with his hand on his chin.

“Zeke doesn’t like me,” he mutters. “I will only make it worse.”

“Or you will make it better,” Hange winks, pressing her elbows into the desk to lean closer to Levi. Now that she knows what she wants, she doesn’t hesitate to apply a bit of pressure. “Maybe, he secretly likes you.”

Levi scoffs, crossing hands on his chest. “I doubt it.”

Despite his curt answer, Hange knows that she is close. Levi is almost ready to break. To ensure that, she decides to play a little dirty. “Levi,” she tilts her head and pinches her eyebrows, sticking her bottom lip out. Her puppy eyes aren’t that impressive, not nearly as good as Nanaba’s, but, for some reason, they seem to always work on Levi. “Pretty, pretty please, will you go with me?”

Levi curses, and that’s how Hange knows that she won. “If I end up destroying your whole career, four-eyes,” he points a finger at her. “That’d be your fault.”

“If you ruin my career, that means I’ll stay here with you forever. Won’t that be splendid?”

He doesn’t say anything, but his face seems pensive, thoughtful. Something in Hange’s heart pangs at that.

“Are you going to Nanaba’s place this Sunday?” she asks to change the topic. And distract herself from the strange feeling Levi’s expression provoked.

“No,” Levi answers. Hange grins.

Levi always says no, always tells them that he won’t let them pull him into their shitty shenanigans again, always swears that this is the last time he dragged their drunk asses home.

And yet, he shows up time and time again. He complains, calls them idiots, drunken fools and disgraces to society, but he still shows up. If that’s not a sign of true friendship, Hange doesn’t know what true friendship is.

“Can’t wait to hang out with your broody mien, shorty!” she exclaims, laughing when Levi flips her off. “Don’t forget your gloomy attitude!”

“And don’t you forget about letters I sent to you,” Levi stands up, throwing his paper cup in a trash bin next to Hange’s desk. “You have two days to answer them all.”

“I know, I know,” Hange waves him off. “I don’t need you or Moblit to tell me how to do my job.”

Levi raises an eyebrow at that, looking overly skeptical. “Two days,” he dryly reminds her before leaving her small office.

For a moment more, Hange continues staring after him with a fond smile on her lips.

Back to work, Zoe, she shakes herself and returns her attention to the computer screen. Her mail is still opened there, and Hange scrolls down to the end, searching for a username she hopes will pop out.

Almost near the end, it does, and Hange can’t keep in a quiet squeal of delight.

[email protected]

The username is a bit ridiculous, pompous even, so Hange opts for a shorter and, in her opinion, more accurate one – lover boy.

Every two weeks without a fail, that same user sends Hange a letter, asking for an advice. They all wary in everything, but the subject – a person the lover boy has a crush on.

What do I do to become closer to her, what is the best way to make her smile…

Each and every letter, without a fail, brightens Hange’s day, no matter how shitty it was. The care, affection and love that radiate from these letters melt her heart and strengthen her belief that the world is truly a wonderful place if kind-hearted people like him still live here.

Apparently, romance isn’t quite dead yet.

Gripping the edge of her chair to at least try and conceal her excitement, Hange eagerly opens the letter and starts reading.

Thank you for your last advice, as always, it helped.

We’re growing closer, at least, it feels like we do. However, there is another problem that I hope you can help me with.

Admittedly, I’m not very good with my words. I never know what to say to tell the others how I feel, and sometimes I can come as rough and rather rude. It’s a fault of mine I had ever since childhood, and, truth be told, it never bothered me much.

But with her… it’s a bit different.

She can take a joke, and I know she doesn’t really mind my manner of communicating, but, still, I wish I could show her just how much she truly means to me. Sometimes it seems like she doesn’t quite realize it. Doesn’t really understand just how amazing and wonderful she is.

I know that the subject is not exactly ordinary, but your advices helped in the past, and I believe it will help this time too. Even if it wouldn’t, it’d be interesting to read your opinion on that.

Thank you in advance.

After finishing the letter, Hange starts rereading it, rubbing her forehead in thought. The lover boy is right, the subject isn’t easy at all. The lack of details and context complicates things even further.

A lot of people struggle at communicating what they feel, and it’s especially true about romantic feelings. But different people struggle in different ways.

Someone like Moblit, for example, is open enough with his affection, but he’d stutter to death sooner than confess to someone.

Someone like Erwin can charm pretty much anyone. His carefully crafted words and easy, handsome smile do all the job for him, but his words are crafted just a little too carefully and his smiles come a little too easily, and, as a result, he only rarely comes off as truly sincere.

And then there is Levi, whose walls are higher than skyscrapers and mightier than a fortress. But once you get past them, once you invest enough time and effort to break them down, you’ll find a gentle, caring man, who just isn’t used to showing his true feelings.

Hange can only guess what type the lover boy is.

Sighing, she decides to leave his letter for now and deal with it after she finishes with the rest. Somehow she feels that finding a lost lobster would be much easier than dealing with that particular dilemma.

***

A couple of busy days, filled with Erwin's warnings - Hange, remember the reputation of our agency rests on your shoulders, Nanaba's cheerful encouragements - you can do it, Hange! you'll charm the guy in no time, I know you will, Mike's horrible jokes - if you can't charm him, just ask Levi to punch him, that might do the trick too, and Moblit's frantic remindings, spoken over the phone in a throaty voice, later Hange and Levi arrive to the café Zeke had chosen for their meeting.

“It looks fancy,” Hange whispers to Levi, eyeing the entrance with a slight pout. “I didn’t know it’d be so fancy.”

“That’s Zeke for you,” Levi grunts. “Fancy asshole.”

“R-right,” suddenly every single precaution Erwin had told her come back, more frightening than ever. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The inside of the café seems even fancier, and Hange spares a longing look at her attire – an over-sized yellow pullover thrown over a light green plaid shirt with a brown khakis and worn-out converses. It’s not something one would call professional or stylish, not that she owns anything much better… but now Hange wishes she at least combed her hair.

She doesn’t know what Zeke looks like, hasn’t bothered with looking him up, since Levi is accompanying her, but she easily spots him even without Levi’s help.

Just as the café’s entrance, just as its interior, Zeke looks fancy. He’s not overdressed, in his dark green shirt and light cardigan he is all but casual, but damn, he is one of the leading journalists at the magazine called Money Island, and it clearly shows.

Levi wasn’t wrong about the fancy part, but he also failed to mention that Zeke is handsome. Extremely so. Blond and bearded, he is not exactly Hange’s type, but, well… there are exceptions to every rule.

Not just attractive, but, apparently, Zeke is a gentleman too.

He rises from his seat as soon, as he sees Hange, a blinding in its brilliance smile curving his thin lips.

“Hange Zoe,” he greets and eagerly shakes her hand. “I’m so happy you’ve come.”

The smile doesn’t leave his face, doesn’t even diminish, but his eyes narrow ever so slightly, when they land on Hange’s companion.

“I didn’t know you’d bring a friend.”

His voice is friendly, if only a little surprised, but his eyes are colder than they’d been before.

“It’s our editor,” Hange pats Levi’s back. “Levi—”

“We’ve met before,” Zeke’s still showing that same smile, but there is just enough frost in his voice to tell Hange that there is no secret affection between him and Levi.

“I’m glad Hange invited me to trail along. It’s nice to see you again, Zeke.”

Levi doesn’t bother hiding his sarcasm or schooling his expression in something more amicable. Hange rolls her eyes and kicks him as soon as Zeke turns around.

Will it kill you if you try to act a little friendlier? her gaze asks him.

I warned you about this, Levi’s huff answers.

Oh, well. At least, he didn’t call her four-eyes in front of Zeke. Clearly, that’s an improvement.

Hange sighs and sends a quick prayer that this meeting won’t turn into a complete disaster. She sits down in a booth across from Zeke and hopes that her smile will be enough to counter any possible tensions.

“The strawberry cupcakes are exceptionally good here,” Zeke notes, when a waitress bring them menus.

Without looking up from a menu, Hange nods. The prices in this café are much higher than she is comfortable with. She’d never bring her friends here, but, well… Zeke isn’t a friend, so Hange swallows down her discontent and orders herself a coffee with a strawberry cupcake.

She doesn’t even like strawberry cupcakes.

“Let’s start, shall we?” Zeke says after three of them receive their orders.

Hange takes a sip from her coffee – it’s honestly not that good to be so pricey – and tries to look composed and professional.

Truth be told, she doesn’t know why she is here. An interview, Erwin told her, but why would anyone want to interview her? She’s not a celebrity – not an actor or an artist, she’s a journalist, who works for a small, local magazine.

Why would a person like Zeke and a magazine like Money Island be interested in someone like her?

“I’ve prepared a small list of questions…” Zeke takes out his tablet, turning it on. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes,” Hange says, smiling when she feels Levi’s calf press to hers in a silent encouragement.

“So tell me more about yourself – your hobbies, talents outside of work…”

It starts easy like that, and Hange loses herself in her ramblings so much that she doesn’t notice that Zeke isn’t taking any notes.

But after a few trivial questions – what do you like about journalism, what made you choose this career path, what are subjects you’re most passionate about – everything gets just a little bit stranger.

“What are your greatest strengths?” Zeke asks, then follows it with, “What are your greatest weaknesses?”

Where do you see yourself in five years? What’s your dream job? Do you consider yourself successful?

One question after another tumbles out of his lips, and soon Hange realizes.

It’s not a simple interview, it’s a job interview.

A confused look Levi sends her confirms her suspicion.

“Mister Yeager?” Hange calls after a question about how she prefers to be managed.

“Call me Zeke,” he retorts charmingly.

“Zeke,” she forces a smile and hopes it doesn’t look too fake. “I don’t wish to appear rude… but what is the meaning of this? I thought you wanted an interview for your magazine?”

“It’s more for me than Money Island,” Zeke confesses. “I wish to get to know you better.”

Beside her, Levi tenses. Amongst the noise and clutter of the café, Hange can almost hear the sound of his teeth gritting. She doesn’t spare a glance in his direction, too busy gawking at Zeke.

“May I ask…” she clears her throat, feeling too far away from her comfort zone. “…Why?”

“Sina’s Gossips is a fairly small magazine,” Zeke begins, his voice as sugary as a strawberry cupcake before Hange. “But it became ten times more popular after you started working there. Clearly, you have a lot of potential, and something tells me that advice columnist is not your dream position. So I thought you’d be interested in my offer.”

“Your offer?”

“To change your workplace.”

“But I have no experience in the finance area.”

“I’m willing to give you a chance,” Zeke says graciously. “You’ll have to be approved my by superiors first, of course, and then you’ll need to undergo a bit of training...”

Hange can’t help but frown. “I can’t just abandon my previous position like that.”

“I’m not asking you to. Not now, at least.”

“So what exactly it is that you want?”

It’s Levi who asks, and his low, almost menacing voice startles Hange. She turns to look at him, but his face is as guarded and neutral as it always is.

Zeke raises an eyebrow, his expression curious as he studies Levi. But when he shifts his attention back to Hange, the same handsome smile is already plastered on his lips. “I want to offer a collaboration project. We can use your platform to let people ask things, not about their everyday struggles, but to ask you for an advice about their finance related problems. Our magazine can advertise it, and this will help to expand both yours and ours audience. And…” Zeke pauses, lowering his voice just a fraction. “It will give us a chance to see if you’re up to the job at Money Island or not.”

“I…” it’s a lot to take in, and, naturally, Hange struggles to find her own words. That’s why she’s so grateful when Levi decides to step in.

“We have to discuss with our boss first. Then we can give you a definite answer.”

There is an edge to Zeke’s smile that tells Hange exactly what he thinks about Levi’s interruption. However, it disappears instantly, in a blink of an eye. With his features much more relaxed, Zeke waves a waitress over and asks to bring them a bill.

“I’ll be waiting for your answer,” he says as he stands up. “I enjoyed our time together, Hange Zoe. And I know our companionship will bring me just as much pleasure. I hope we’ll keep in touch.”

He leaves after that, but Hange isn’t yet ready to go. She pushes the cupcake around the plate, mulling it over.

“What do you think?” she asks Levi after five minutes of silence.

“What do you think?” he shoots back, and Hange scoffs, kicking him under the table.

“I asked you first.”

Levi doesn’t answer immediately. He stares at her for a long moment, and there is something in his eyes, something Hange can’t quite understand the meaning of. She wants to know, though, almost asks him, but then Levi breaks the eye contact and slumps back in his chair.

“You’ve always wanted to do something more, right? It’s your chance, Hange.”

“And…” she swallows a heavy lump in her throat and briefly wonders where it had come from. Levi is right, that what she always wanted. Then why she is so hesitant to even entertain the idea? “Do you think I should take it?”

“It’s your chance,” Levi repeats.

He stands up and wraps his hand around her elbow to push Hange up too. His touch is too careful, almost gentle, and the confusion inside her continues to grow.

“Let’s go back to work,” he says, and adds in a voice so quiet, Hange almost misses it. “You did well, Hange.”

***

Hange goes to find Erwin as soon as they return to the office. She doesn’t tell him about the second part of Zeke’s offer, about the possibility that she’ll soon leave Sina’s Gossips and all of its employees, and focuses only on their future collaboration. Erwin listens to her frantic retelling with a calm, attentive face. He agrees to Zeke’s offer without much thought.

“That is,” he hastily adds, “if you wish to proceed with it, Hange. I don’t wish to force you, so if it’s not something you’re interested in...”

“No, no,” she shakes her head and hopes that the smile she forces on doesn’t look pained. “I’ll be happy to work on this project.”

Is she truly happy, though? Hange isn’t sure anymore.

***

She spends the whole evening and most hours of night thinking about it.

She goes to the Money Island’s website and reads most of their recent articles. She googles the most prominent employees and reads about them too, every bit of information she can get her hands on.

When the sun is starting to peek out from the horizon, Hange looks up Zeke. She finds out he has his own youtube channel, where he talks – no surprise here – about finance.

Being rich is easy

God, even the name of the channel reeks of arrogance.

But Hange has to admit – Zeke is good at what he’s doing. His pretentious manner of speaking and his apparent habit of scratching his ear is a little irritating, but he talks with confidence and ease that shows just how much knowledge and experience he has.

His videos are engrossing and his articles are, without a doubt, extremely well-written.

Hange likes Zeke, finds him interesting enough, but what he talks and writes about… she can’t help but think that it’s a bit too dull for her taste.

And it’s ironic, it’s foolish, she should be on a cloud nine from the opportunity presented to her. Hange feels like she would have been on a cloud nine… Three years ago.

But now she has a job she loves and people she loves working with. Should she really leave it behind just like that? Can she?

Then again, can she leave behind a dream she nurtured for as long as she could remember? Can she forget about every ambition and desire?

She doesn’t find an answer to that in the evening, it doesn’t come to her during the night.

And Hange can only hope that she’ll be able to answer it when the time comes.

***

But, instead, Saturday comes, and Hange forces these thought out of her head.

She wants to forget about her doubts, and with Nanaba’s fingers in her hair, a bottle of cold beer in her hands and Mike’s deep voice in her ears, forgetting about everything else is surprisingly easy.

They’re at Nanaba’s summer house, gathered around a brightly-lit brazier. Hange is warm, relaxed and content. Mike’s story about some fisherman from his hometown is a little boring, but Nanaba remedies that fault by whispering sarcastic comments to Hange.

When Mike’s thrilling tale is finally over, Erwin clears his throat, attracting everyone’s attention.

“In case some of you didn’t know, Hange had a very peculiar meeting yesterday…”

“Right,” Nanaba’s grin is too wide and gleeful for Hange’s taste, and when Nanaba fixes her eyes on her, Hange involuntarily squirms. “Very peculiar indeed.”

Knowing but not liking where this is going, Hange leaves the warmth of Nanaba’s lap and moves away. This action brings her to Levi’s side, and he tenses, but doesn’t protest which Hange takes as a sign that she can become a little bolder and lean on his shoulder.

Perhaps, he’ll shield her from Nanaba’s curiosity. Although, Hange has to admit that it’s highly unlikely. No one can stop Nanaba if she gets curious about something. Hange always admired that about her. Not now, though.

“So tell us, Hange,” Nanaba slowly begins, her eyes glinting in the light of the fire. Hange takes a quick survey, and confirms that, yep, everyone is looking at her. Apparently, Nanaba is not the only who is curious. “Did you have a good time?”

“Well, Zeke’s offer looks promising, and that project certainly is intriguing…”

“God, leave that boring stuff to Erwin,” Nanaba rolls her eyes.

Mike agrees with her by adding, “Not everyone here is as nerdy as you two.”

“Exactly,” Nanaba nods. “We want to know more about Zeke. Is he handsome?”

Perhaps, it’s the beer or the warm atmosphere or the fact that everyone – including Levi – is looking expectantly at her, but Hange chuckles and says, “Very much so. Not in the way our fearless leader is,” she salutes Erwin with a bottle, enjoying the slight blush that appears on his cheeks. “But he’s still attractive.”

There is pure wickedness in Nanaba’s gaze, when she leans a little closer to Hange and asks, “Is he as handsome as Levi?”

Hange chokes on her beer. Her eyes water as she coughs it out, her throat is sore, but with the help of Levi’s gentle pats, Hange manages to get her breathing back under control.

She glares at Nanaba as soon as she straightens out, but then remembers the stupid question and feels color rise to her face. She can blame it on a coughing fit. Probably. Hopefully.

“It depends on one’s preferences…” she mumbles, hating how weak her voice sounds.

Nanaba is merciless, though. “What’s your opinion then?”

It takes Hange more than a moment to gather enough courage to sneak a glance at Levi. Their eyes meet, but for no more than a heartbeat. Levi looks away instantly, his hands clenching into fists.

Hange decides to be honest then. Her gaze still fixed to Levi, she murmurs, “No, Zeke is nearly not as handsome as Levi.”

Nanaba coos, Mike guffaws and Erwin simply smiles, like that is exactly the kind of answer he expected.

Levi doesn’t react at all, but Hange is still pressed against him and so she feels – he relaxes considerably.

Hange relaxes too, and moving closer to his ear, she whispers, “Hey, help me get revenge on Nanaba.”

The look in Levi’s eyes is positively evil, wicked enough to send a shiver down a spine. Hange feels that shiver acutely, but… not because it scares her. Truthfully, it has a diametrically opposite effect on her.

“With great pleasure, four-eyes.”

“Oi, Nanaba!” Hange calls. She doesn’t know what to say next, finds it hard to concentrate with Levi so close to her, but she trusts he’ll back her up.

As always, he doesn’t disappoint.

“Is that your lipstick on Mike’s neck?”

There is no lipstick on his neck, Nanaba isn’t even wearing one, but they both panic and they both exchange quick glances. It’s enough of an evidence to make everyone laugh.

Mike is smiling, as he pulls Nanaba closer, tucking her under his arm. “We really suck at being discreet, aren’t we, Nana?”

“That we are,” she agrees with a smile as gentle and loving as Mike’s. “I guess there is something we want to tell you then.”

“About damn time,” Erwin shakes his head. “Do you know how many times I’ve caught you making out in the supply closet? I was getting tired of keeping quiet about it.”

“You didn’t keep quiet about it,” Levi grumbles. “Every time you caught them you ran to tell me.”

“And then me,” Hang gleefully adds.

Nanaba and Mike groan in unison, their faces red as tomato.

“We have the worst friends ever.”

Hange laughs. She very much begs to differ.

***

Beers and constant laughter very soon make all of them sleepy. That’s how Hange finds herself sandwiched between Erwin and Mike on a bed in the guest room, and though there is enough space for another person to fit in, Nanaba claims the master bedroom, and Levi takes one look at them and retires to the living room, sprawling over the couch.

In Erwin and Mike’s arms Hange feels safe and content. Her previous doubts take a seat back and let her enjoy the night with her friends. Thankfully, sleep comes to her that much easier than it did last night.

It doesn’t last for long, though.

The sun still isn’t up, but the world isn’t dark anymore, when Hange wakes up from her slumber.

Erwin is snoring into her ear, but there is a vacant place to her left, where Mike used to sleep. It’s not hard to guess where he had disappeared to, and Hange allows herself a small smile at the expanse of her friends’ happiness.

She doesn’t feel like sleeping anymore, so she throws one blanket over Erwin and snatches another one, wrapping it around her shoulders. With her feet bare and still dressed in a pajama shorts and Mike’s t-shirt that almost reaches her knees, she leaves the room and goes downstairs, walking outside. She takes a seat at a porch swing and draws a slow, deep breath, taking in the beauty around her.

The world is only starting to wake up, and grey color is more prominent than anything else, but there are just enough soft shades of purple, blue and pink to make up for it. Nanaba’s house sits just at the edge of a clearing that leads to a small lake, and the morning brings thick streak of fog that spreads over crystal surface.

It’s beautiful enough to take her breath away, and Hange loses herself in the calm, gentle feeling that finds its way inside her.

That feeling is strong enough to hide the sound of soft footsteps that approach her. Hange notices someone else’s presence only when the swing starts moving. She startles, her head darting to the side, but relaxes instantly, when she sees Levi’s sharp profile. He’s holding two cups of steaming tea in his hands, and hands one cup to Hange.

“Thank you,” she smiles, inhaling the sweet aroma of tea. It tastes just as sweet as it smells, she realizes after taking the first sip. Then, she turns her attention back to Levi. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, I usually wake up at this time. Insomnia,” he says, and, right, now Hange remembers something-something about Levi sleeping not nearly enough for a normal human being. “Heard that you woke up and decided you might want a company.”

“How did you know that it was me who woke up?”

Levi gives her a short glance before shrugging and returning his gaze back to the scenery in front of them. “Your steps are different,” he answers, like it explains everything.

It does explain everything for Levi, Hange muses. He works in a strange, obscure way, so very different from other people. That’s why Hange likes him. That’s why she feels so comfortable with him.

Perhaps, it’s a fault of a dim, morning light or, perhaps, it’s her own sleepiness that changes her perception, but Levi looks a little different, softer around the edges. Because of it, Hange allows herself a small indulgence and moves close enough for their shoulders to touch.

Just a fraction, barely an inch, but she feels Levi move closer as well.

All of it – the colors merging on a horizon, the fog that makes everything look almost ethereal, the sweet tea made by Levi, Levi himself – fuse together to create an impossibly light, gentle feeling that very rarely visits Hange.

In that moment she feels happy, so happy that not even a brief thought of what’s going to happen if I leave is enough to ruin that mood. She simply drowns that pesky doubt down with tea and turns to look at Levi.

“I’m so lucky to have met you all,” she reveals to him in a quiet voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy before.”

Levi stares at her, and there is something in his eyes, something fierce and at the same time vulnerable that Hange can’t quite understand. She isn’t sure she wants to, not now, at least.

“Let’s stay like this,” she says, almost a plea. “At least, for a little while.”

“As you wish,” Levi agrees easily as though… as though whatever is it that she wants, he’ll get her.

The thought is both comforting and terrifying. Comforting, because it means he cares about her, because it means she’s not alone anymore.

And terrifying, because it makes her happy, and Hange isn’t sure she’d be able to part with that happiness, when the time comes.

***

No matter how much Hange wants to prolong that fuzzy feeling and stay in that small bubble with her friends, all too soon the weekend ends. Monday comes and with it arrives a new wave of responsibilities.

But not only responsibilities return – Moblit does too, and as soon as she sees him, Hange hugs him close to her chest, laughing when he starts complaining that she squeezes him too much.

“It’s been too quiet without your nagging!” Hange pats him on a back, smiling from ear to ear. “And you’ve missed one hell of a party! We’ve been sleeping so peacefully without your snores.”

“You like my snores,” Moblit argues, and he is right to do so. Moblit’s throaty snores lull her to sleep better than any lullaby. Besides, cuddling with him is always a delight, his tummy softer than any pillow. “And I’ve heard about that party already,” he continues with an almost sly look. “Nanaba told they found you and Levi getting cozy on a porch.”

Hange huffs, turning away from his knowing look. “I see Nanaba’s obsession with gossips is infectious.”

“It’s Sina’s Gossips we’re working at. Love for gossip is the requirement to get a position here,” Moblit jokes, and Hange shakes her head with a low chuckle.

Moblit’s been absent for just a week, but it was enough to make her miss him like crazy. She’s glad he is back. And more than anything, she wants to chat some more, but the work doesn’t wait.

She contacts Zeke as she drinks her first cup of coffee, and not even five minutes pass before he schedules another meeting with her.

There is no need for your editor to join us this time :)

Hange isn’t sure what irritates her more – Zeke’s apparent dislike of Levi or the stupid emoji.

However, Erwin’s words ring in her ear, yet another reminder that this is important, Hange, we can’t afford to blow this off, especially not with a man like Zeke on board. So she replies him with a stupid emoji of her own, and, gritting her teeth, adds that she is looking forward to their meeting.

Then, not wanting to repeat her last mistake, Hange checks the place Zeke has invited her to. This time it’s a restaurant, and a flashy one at that. The time he sets the meeting for – seven pm – is another hint that it is not a casual meeting, and therefore she needs to wear something better than her usual clothes.

She isn’t sure she can pull it off all by herself, though, and she isn’t sure there is at least one item of clothing in her closet that can be classified as fancy, so Hange asks Nanaba to help.

Nanaba agrees instantly, her eyes brightening up at the prospect. She promises to come over at the evening of the meeting with Zeke, bring some new clothes for Hange and pick up something classy.

At five pm sharp, just two hours before her meeting, Nanaba shows at Hange’s place, holding two large packages.

She doesn’t come alone, and with wide eyes Hange watches how Mike, Moblit and Levi trail inside her apartment after Nanaba.

“Erwin couldn’t make it, because he’s old and boring,” Nanaba cheerfully informs her. “But he asked to send him pictures of every look I’d pick for you.”

“Has anyone told you how wicked and vile you are?” Hange asks her with a glare that could almost rival Levi’s.

“Mike makes sure to tell me this regularly,” Nanaba flippantly replies. “Now go and get changed! We don’t have all evening.”

It takes five changes of clothes to finally find something that satisfies Nanaba’s fashion sense and doesn’t make Hange feel like she’s out of her element.

She is dressed in a dark brown suit with a black shirt underneath, and after Nanaba makes a controlled mess out of her hair, Hange has to agree – she looks very good.

“Let’s show you to the boys,” Nanaba whispers before taking a quick photo for Erwin. She pushes Hange into the living room, where Mike, Moblit and Levi are already waiting for her, all of them nursing a bottle of beer. “We’ve got yes from Erwin!” Nanaba cheerfully announces after checking her phone.

“That’s a definite yes from me too,” Mike nods in agreement.

“You look so handsome,” Moblit says earnestly, despite his shy smile.

Levi doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Hange either. As she waits for his verdict, Hange wonders if the desire to change her look, because Levi obviously doesn’t like it, is simply stupid or downright pathetic.

“Levi,” Nanaba glowers at him, when the silence stretches for far too long.

Hange wants to deflate the tension with some joke, but then Levi clears his throat. “Not bad, four-eyes,” he says, making her heart stumble. “Go get that stupid monkey.”

Hange wants to hug him, so, so much, but she’s afraid to ruin the suit, so she settles on thanking him with a bright, happy smile.

Levi’s expression softens like that is all the thanks he desires.

“Continue making heart eyes at Levi, and you’ll miss your little meeting, Hans,” Nanaba whispers.

Hange hopes the red on her cheeks will be interpreted as anger, but Nanaba is right – she has to hurry, all this effort would be in vain if she arrives even a little too late.

“C’mon,” Mike wraps an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll give you a lift.”

Hange smiles, feeling so grateful – to all of them. She wouldn’t be ready for this evening if it wasn’t for Nanaba, she probably wouldn’t get that deal with Zeke if it wasn’t for Levi, her column wouldn’t be so successful if it wasn’t for Moblit’s assistance and Mike’s constant help, she wouldn’t have this job, this family if it wasn’t for Erwin who decided to hire her.

They all wish her luck one last time at the entrance of the restaurant. Nanaba and Moblit fruitlessly try to peek inside and get a glimpse of Zeke, when Levi wraps his hand around her wrist, dragging Hange aside.

“It’s Tuesday,” he says matter-of-factly.

More than a little confused, Hange blinks, then nods in affirmative, she knows it’s Tuesday, she’s not that disorganized.

“It’s Tuesday,” he repeats, tilting his head just so.

It is only then, to Hange’s shame, that she finally understands what he means.

“The letters, right?” she grins, proud of her own quick-wittedness. It took her only a moment to guess.

“I sent them over already. If you won’t be too exhausted after the meeting…”

“I’ll check them out as soon as I get home,” she promises.

There is nothing else to say, nothing else to do but walk away from Levi and inside the restaurant, where Zeke is probably waiting for her. Still… Hange is reluctant to leave. There is something between her and Levi, something almost tangible, and it keeps her glued to his side.

This feeling, it grows bigger, harder to ignore, until—

Until it disappears, when Nanaba tugs at her hand. Hange allows her friend to pull her away from Levi, stopping just for a second to turn around and wave him goodbye. Levi’s face is set in the usual scowl, but his gaze softens, and it fuels Hange with determination and resolve.

She looks around and, encouraged by her friends’ unwavering support, steps inside the restaurant.

***

Just as Hange predicted, Zeke is already there. When he notices her approach, he stands up and with a dazzling smile and pulls a chair for her.

“Hange Zoe,” he all but purrs. “You’re absolutely ravishing tonight.”

His words are too sweet, Zeke himself is too sweet to seem genuine, but Hange gives him a smile nevertheless. His compliment doesn’t succeed in making her heart race like Levi’s quiet ‘not bad, four-eyes’ did, but it still pleases her.

She doesn’t believe he truly means it, knows that Zeke uses flirting to get something out of her, but, oh well… if a man like Zeke Yeager wants something from her… isn’t it already fluttering?

“I took a liberty to order for you myself, if you don’t mind,” Zeke says.

Hange does mind, not that she can express it now, after Zeke already ordered. That’s exactly what he was counting for, Hange can very well see it – in the slight curve of his mouth and an amused shine in his eyes.

“As long as the meal is delicious,” she murmurs slyly.

Zeke laughs, and Hange mentally congratulates herself. Erwin would be so proud.

Speaking of Erwin…

“My boss agreed to your offer, he’s very interested in it and hopes…”

“Hange,” Zeke cuts her off with a wave of his hand. “We have work email to discuss things like that. Delicious food, beautiful night… why don’t we simply enjoy it? We can talk about work later.”

Hange frowns, looking at the man before her intently. For the life of her, she can’t comprehend what does he want from her.

“You’re a journalist with bright future ahead of you,” Zeke says, like he knows what exactly Hange is thinking about. “I want to help you succeed, but, aside from that, you’re an intriguing person. I simply wish to get to know you better. Is it so bad?”

Either she really sucks at reading people, or Zeke is that good of an actor, but… he seems genuine enough. Hange struggles with keeping her suspicion.

Before she can give him an answer, their food is brought in. The plate before Hange looks more expensive than she could probably afford, and she is pretty sure she won’t be able to even pronounce the name of a dish, but she takes a first bite, and… can barely resist a moan.

It’s good, really good – spicy but not bitter, and just crunchy and juicy enough.

“Is it delicious?” Zeke quirks an eyebrow, smug and amused.

The dish is so tasty, Hange can’t find it in herself to snap at him. “It’s perfect,” she confesses, sending another slice into her mouth.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, to be honest, I was quite nervous about your reaction.”

Zeke doesn’t look nervous in the slightest, but if he’s so dead-set on playing a gentleman tonight, Hange can indulge him.

“So what exactly do you want to know about me?” she asks, pouring wine in both of their glasses.

“Ah, right,” Zeke pushes the glasses up his nose. “The first thing I’m interested in…”

***

They spend the whole dinner talking, jumping from one topic to another. Despite his arrogance, Zeke is an interesting man, he knows how to entertain and engage his companion, and so very soon Hange loses herself in conversation with him.

Time flies fast, and when they stand up from the table, Hange is shocked to discover that it’s almost ten in the evening.

Zeke remains a gentleman till the very end, and after paying their bill, he drives Hange home. He stops just outside of her apartment block, and when he turns off the engine, Hange knows she is ought to say something.

“I had fun. Thank you for the evening.” She says, and she means it. She doesn’t feel nearly as happy as when she is with her friends from Sina’s Gossips, but Zeke proved to be a good company. Hange is looking forward to working with him.

“I should be the one thanking you,” Zeke tilts his head, ever the charmer. “I’ll see you again?”

“Sure,” Hange agrees and gets out of the car. “Good night,” she yells into his open window and then hurries up the steps to her apartment.

Exhaustion sips into her bones the moment Hange crosses the threshold. She kicks off the shoes and takes off the suit, trudging up to the shower. Once she is clean and fresh, she falls onto her bed and gets under the blankets. Only then, Hange remembers her conversation with Levi.

With the last bit of her energy, she takes the phone into her hands and unlocks it, going immediately to the mail. She isn’t awake enough to read all the letters, so she just quickly scrolls through them. A thank you message from a man who found his lobster… a distraught mother who doesn’t know how to communicate with her son… a middle-aged teacher with a mid-life crisis… Hange scrolls further down, until she sees a familiar username.

She smiles and opens the letter.

Good day, and thank you again for the last advice. Admittedly, I was a bit skeptical about it, “trust that she knows you well enough” seemed just that side of too easy, but I think she does know me well enough to see through my rude exterior. What’s more, I think she knows me well enough to see things I don’t even wish to show her. I can’t yet decide if that’s a good thing, or a terrifying one.

Alas, there is another problem, one that bothers me constantly.

Without getting too much into details… there is a chance she might leave the company we both work for. I know it might not seem that awful, we can still remain friends even if we don’t work together, but… I’m afraid we’ll drift apart when she leaves. Without common ground, without our friends bringing us together, she wouldn’t have a reason to talk to me. Maybe, she wouldn’t even want to.

But that’s not the thing that bothers me the most. She hasn’t yet decided if she wants to leave or not, and, as much as I am reluctant to let her go, I… I wish she follows her dreams, even if they tear us apart. But she’s perceptive, and, as I’ve mentioned before, she knows things about me that I very well try to hide. So what if she learns about my reluctance? What if it somehow influences her final decision?

I don’t wish for that to happen, whether she stays or she leaves, I don’t want to be her reason for either.

Because if she grows to be unhappy about that decision… I don’t think I’ll be able to take.

I… don’t think I’ve explained my point clear enough, maybe, because it’s not clear enough in my mind too. However, as always, I put my trust in you.

You haven’t left me down before, after all.

Thanks for bearing with me. Hopefully, it’s not the last time.

Hange groans in frustration, as she comes to an end of the letter. Here she was hoping to receive some sweet news from her lover boy, but he presented her with another dilemma instead. And one that is so similar to hers too. Maybe, it’s a sign, a way of universe telling her… something. The message is not yet clear enough.

Perhaps, with a little time, she’ll be able to decipher it. But as for now, Hange decides, putting the phone on top of the bedside table, the only thing she really, really needs is sleep.

And, thankfully, it comes to her easily.

***

The next day Hange dives deep into work and stays in the depth of articles, lectures, textbooks and letters from readers for entire two weeks.

In almost everything, Zeke is the one to assist her. Email exchange, video calls, personal meetings… because of all that, Zeke seems to be constantly by her side.

He invites her to his company, organizes the tour around the offices, introduces her to every employee. They’re nice, Hange supposes. Overly politely and unnaturally friendly, but that’s to be expected from total strangers.

Zeke shows her his office – a big room with glass walls and large window that overlooks the city. It drives to a point just how different their newspapers are. It almost makes Hange self-conscious about inviting him to her own office. Thankfully, Levi is there to chase away any discomfort.

As soon as Zeke gets inside their office, Levi is there, glaring at him like he’s trying to burn a hole in his head.

“As Hange’s editor, I’m here to oversee your work with her,” he explains, and proceeds to critique everything Zeke does.

Zeke’s habit of scratching his ear makes him look like a monkey and his beard makes him look like a homeless person, his voice makes Levi’s head hurt, his cologne stinks, he talks too much and works too little, his jokes aren’t funny and his remarks are unnecessary. Levi finds a way to insult everything about Zeke.

Hange would have reprimanded him, she did a few times, but she can’t deny that Levi’s hatred is… kind of funny. It’s petty and childish, but at the same time hilarious to the point that Hange has to constantly bite the inside of her cheeks otherwise she’d be laughing at his jabs like a mad person.

Still, Zeke is an important business partner and her possible colleague, so…

“Please forgive Levi for his… lack of professionalism,” she tells Zeke when Levi leaves to bring them tea. Just moments before Levi had called Zeke ‘an insufferable snob who doesn’t give a single fuck about people around him’, so naturally, Hange feels that apology in an absolute necessity this time.

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” Zeke smiles, and it looks just that side of arrogant, reminding Hange about Levi’s words and making her feel like maybe, his assertion of Zeke isn’t entirely wrong. “His reason for acting like that is perfectly understandable. When one stands between a man and his… well,” Zeke trails off, staring at Hange enigmatically.

His what? Zeke is standing between Levi and… what? Is it the reason why they don’t like each other so much? Is it something that happened in the past? Or is it a recent development?

Hange wants to ask, but the moment for this is lost, when Levi comes back, holding a trail in his hands.

“I spat into your coffee,” he says to Zeke with the most deadpan expression. If Hange didn’t know Levi a little better, she’d believe that he actually did it. But Zeke isn’t fooled so easily, so he just wolfishly grins and thanks Levi in a sweet voice. Levi swears under his breath and then turns to Hange, murmuring, “Yours is with three sugars.”

“Just as you like it,” Zeke sing-songs, and Hange can’t stop laughter from bubbling out of her throat at the sight of pure hatred on Levi’s usually indifferent face.

“Let’s get back to work,” she says, still chuckling.

Thankfully, they both listen to her.

***

When Zeke leaves to return to his own office, Hange breathes out in relief. She stretches her arms and sprawls out her long legs beneath the desk with a pleased hum. Working with Zeke is satisfying enough, but with just Levi around, she feels much more at ease.

“So,” she nudges his foot with her leg. “What’s up with you and Zeke? What is the source of a drama?” and, remembering Zeke’s previous comment Hange adds, “Did he steal your crush or what?”

Levi looks affronted. He glares at Hange, hands crossed on his chest and a slight pout curving his lips.

Hange thinks he’s going to tell her to fuck off, almost expects him too, but this time, Levi surprises her.

“Remember my cousin? Mikasa?”

Of course, Hange does. How could she ever forget Mikasa, the only person in this world with a scowl as scary as Levi’s?

“Well, Zeke has a little brother, a brat named Eren.”

Hange nods, she vaguely remembers Levi mentioning some brother, and, more than once, Zeke had bragged to her about Eren, his darling sibling.

“He and Mikasa are friends, and my idiot cousin has been pining after him for years.”

Hange has some troubles imagining a pining Ackerman, and she briefly wonders what Levi would act like, if he had been pining after someone. Can he even pine?

“Eren had been an asshole to her, even made her cry once, so...”

“So?” Hange prompts, practically at the edge of her seat.

“So I decided to teach him a lesson. I wanted to scare him a bit, but it kinda backfired when Zeke spotted the two of us. I wasn’t going to punch him or anything, but apparently that’s how it looked.”

“And?”

Levi sighs. “And Zeke did what he could to protect his little brother.”

“He punched you?” Hange’s eyes are wide, as she tries to imagine that particular scene. Zeke is so much bigger than Levi, if he had punched him… Hange suddenly feels very angry.

“No, although I wish he did. It happened just outside of our university, and so Zeke had me reported to the dean. Something about assaulting a minor… it almost got me expelled.”

“What a fucker,” Hange growls, her fist clenching involuntarily. She knew just how hard it was for Levi to get into that university and pay for the classes, and to think that he nearly got expelled because of something so stupid…

“It was an asshole move, I agree. But a part of me actually understands him.”

“Huh? Why?”

Hange can’t even fathom a reason to defend what Zeke did. She knows she would never forgive him for that. It doesn’t seem like Levi has forgiven him either, but he understands him? Hange doesn’t think she would be as gracious.

“Do you have a sibling, four-eyes?” Levi asks. “Or a cousin?”

“No.”

With a thoughtful expression, he hums. “That’s why you don’t understand.”

His answer confuses Hange. And at the same time, it intrigues her. She knows that a bond between siblings is a special one, and as an only child, she can’t grasp the meaning of it. Levi seems to cherish his relationship with Mikasa, even if he always calls her a brat and complains about her bad manners. It must be nice to have someone, a friend that lives with you in the same house. Hange can’t exactly imagine it, but she acknowledges the importance of it anyway.

“But enough of this,” Levi says, bringing her out of her thoughts. “Your collaboration with Zeke is almost at its end. Your article will come out in a few days, have you decided what are you going to do next? Have you already told Erwin that Zeke offered you a place at his newspaper?”

“I haven’t.”

She doesn’t quite know how to approach this conversation. What’s more, she doesn’t quite know what her decision is. Money Island is an opportunity that shouldn’t be ignored, Hange doesn’t want to ignore it. A resignation letter that is hidden inside the desk's drawer is a testament to this. It will give her career a boost she always dreamed of, and Hange can’t let it just slide past her. She isn’t going to, probably, but… she is reluctant.

“We still don’t know if our collaboration will turn out to be a success or not,” she adds, an attempt to justify her indecisiveness. “Maybe, Zeke wouldn’t want to do anything with me, if we fail.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Levi rolls his eyes, apparently refusing to even entertain this idea. “The article will be a success. And you’ll do great at that job.”

Hange snickers in an attempt to lighten up the mood, to distract Levi from her unease. “Sounds like you just want to get rid of me.”

“It’s your decision,” Levi doesn’t deny, not confirm her comment. It sets Hange just a little further on edge. “What I want doesn’t matter whatsoever.”

His words sound familiar, strangely so, but Hange refuses to think about it any further. The words might sound like those from the lover boy’s letter, but the context is different. Levi and him are different. And whoever lover boy is devoted to, Hange is sure that she and that person are different too.

“I’m starving,” Levi stands up, a bit too abruptly, but Hange is too lost in her thoughts to take note of it. “Let’s steal some food from Mike.”

Hange smiles, grateful for the offer, and stands up to join Levi. “I saw Erwin bring yoghurt today.”

“We need to hurry then,” he grabs her hand, quickening her stride. “Otherwise Nanaba will steal it before we even have a chance.”

Hange laughs and eagerly follows after him.

***

When the article finally comes out, it turns out to be a glaring success. Both newspapers gain new audience, a number of newcomers bigger than Erwin had anticipated.

Everyone is happy and proud of Hange accomplishment. No one is surprised at her success.

Mike, Nanaba and Moblit all but run into her office, interrupting each other in their haste to congratulate her.

Levi is the last one to approach her. He wears an unusually open, almost happy expression.

“Told you’d do great,” he murmurs.

Hange knows she shouldn’t do it, knows that Levi won’t enjoy it, his aversion to invasion of his personal space is proverbial, but… Hange accomplished a lot, right? She deserves a little celebratory gift.

With that in mind, she shortens the distance between them and goes in for the tightest, squishiest hug she had in a while.

Levi grunts his protest, but doesn’t object further. In a move that sets Hange’s heart ablaze, he wraps his arms around her too.

Hange likes hugs, receives lots of them – at parties, she often cuddles with Nanaba and Mike, sometimes falls asleep with Erwin holding her close, and Moblit always gets too clingy when he has a little too much to drink. She enjoys embracing her friends, but a hug from Levi – perhaps, Hange tries to reason, because it is such a rare occurrence – makes her brim with unbridled happiness.

***

After the short, but very much enjoyed celebratory hug, Hange invites her friends to get celebratory drinks.

The evening is great, it is filled with pleasant conversation and so much laughter that Hange’s stomach starts to ache from it. The evening is great, could have been perfect… if Hange could forget about the resignation letter that is hidden inside her desk’s drawer.

It is a little after midnight, when they leave the bar and call it a night. But while everyone else heads to their homes, Hange decides to come to the office.

Almost wistfully, she turns on the computer. The first thing she sees is the time and the date, displayed at the bottom of a screen, that tells her it’s the early hours of Wednesday.

The second thing she sees is a notification that Levi sent her a letter.

Right. It’s letters day. Perhaps, the last one for her.

Hange opens the mail, her eyes instantly searching for the familiar username. She doesn’t find it.

She goes through the whole archive again, this time much slower. Still nothing. Then – what if third time is a charm – she scrolls down to the bottom once more. And…

No luck.

It’s the first time in a while that Hange doesn’t receive a letter from the lover boy. It can be a good thing, she supposes. Maybe, the lover boy finally confessed and his beloved stayed with him. Maybe, that’s why he doesn’t need her advices anymore. Or, maybe… Maybe, she left. That will explain the absence of the letter too.

It’s just a letter, from a total stranger at that, but Hange feels sad. Her eyes water as she stares at the computer screen.

She can’t help but wonder – did lover boy’s beloved know about his feelings? Did she decide to leave anyway? Or was she none the wiser about the extent of his affections towards her? If so, did she regret leaving him behind?

Would Hange herself regret leaving her job and friends?

She’s not sure. The worst thing about regret is that it doesn’t appear until after you’ve already done something.

Maybe, she will regret it, maybe, she won’t. The only way to find out is to keep moving forward.

With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, Hange takes the resignation letter out of the drawer.

***

When she breaks the news to Erwin, he is not at all surprised. He’s not even angry or disappointed, he doesn’t ask to reconsider. A part of Hange wishes he did. That would give her an excuse to stay.

His smile is sad, but at the same time it’s proud. He thanks Hange for three years of hard work and wishes her the best of luck.

“When you’ll get rich and famous,” he says as he wraps his arm around her. “Think of us sometimes, even if briefly.”

Hange’s answering laugh sounds more like a sob. “How could I ever forget all of you?”

Erwin chuckles and wipes away her tears. “You’re a star, Hange, don’t you ever doubt it.”

***

Her last day at work ends with Hange getting shit-faced at their favorite bar. Everyone else is just as drunk as she is – Nanaba refuses to let go of her arm, Mike keeps asking her to call him every day, and Moblit has already cried for three times.

The only semi-sober ones are Erwin, who has to show up to shareholders’ meeting tomorrow morning, and Levi, who is an abnormal human being that alcohol holds no power over.

In the end, he is the one tasked to bring Hange home.

For the entire of their ride to her apartment complex, Hange does her best to behave. She breaks down as soon as they get inside.

Apparently thinking that forcing her to shower would be too much of a bother, Levi leads her straight to the bedroom.

Hange doesn’t fight it, too exhausted to do so, but when Levi starts tucking her in, she grabs his wrist.

“Levi,” she says, and the amount of alcohol she consumed earlier makes it easier to not give a fuck that her voice sounds almost pleading. “Levi, what do you think about me leaving?”

Levi has said nothing on the topic throughout the whole evening. And, while he has given her a hint about his stance on it before, and it probably wouldn’t matter at all, since she is going to leave anyway, Hange still wants to know.

“I told you before,” he doesn’t pull his hand away from her grasp, if anything he moves a little closer, sitting at the edge of her bed. “My opinion doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” Hange assures. “To me, it matters.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Do you want me to stay?” she looks deep into his eyes, but be it the influence of alcohol or the absence of her glasses… she can’t read him at all. “If you really do, maybe—”

“No.” Levi cuts her off sharply. “No, Hange, there is no maybe. It’s your decision, and my feelings can’t become your reason.”

Again, the words are familiar, but Hange is drunk. Hange is filled with alcohol and conflicting emotions and lingering doubts. Besides, she’s too lost in the intense look inside Levi’s eyes to make sense of anything else.

“Good night,” Levi whispers, pressing his lips to her forehead in a feather light, achingly gentle kiss. “I hope you will be happy.”

He leaves just before Hange thinks of asking him to stay.

***

Hange swears to stay in touch with everyone at Sina’s Gossips, and she fully intends to keep that promise, but then— then the work gets in the way.

Her first week at Money Island is all but a blur. There is so much to do, so much to learn, and Hange gets lost in it almost immediately.

She stays in the office after hours, she works during weekends, every waking moment is essentially spent on trying to make sense of it all. The employees of Money Island help, which Hange is immensely grateful for, and she is no stranger to working after hours, but… what made her power through it before is not there anymore.

After two weeks she spends on her new job, Hange can’t deny it anymore – her new position is boring.

All these numbers, charts, net worth, stocks options, so on and so forth… it’s so dull and tiresome, it sucks all of Hange’s enthusiasm and inspiration.

That thrill, that excitement, it isn’t there anymore, there is no passion to fuel her, no purpose worth pursuing.

At least, her new colleagues are nice enough. However… Hange can’t help but compare them to her old ones.

Pieck is funny and kind, but not nearly as kind as Nanaba. Porco’s jokes, no matter what he thinks about them, aren’t as hilarious as Mike’s, and watching the development of his relationship with Pieck doesn’t give Hange the same thrill as Nanaba and Mike’s relationship did. Onyankopon is so polite, and he’s always ready to help, but he isn’t as endearingly awkward and cute as Moblit. Her new boss, Magath, isn’t half the man Erwin is. And Zeke… Zeke doesn’t even begin to compare with Levi.

Hange wants to like them, she really does, but all this work leaves little to no time to hang out with her friends, and their absence makes her more unwilling to connect with the new colleagues.

Out of sheer stubbornness, Hange continues working for another two weeks, hoping that maybe, with just enough time, she’ll get her spark back.

She is in the middle of writing another article, something about yet another failing company, when her phone pings, announcing a notification. Taking it a sign from above that she needs to take a break, Hange looks away from the computer screen and redirects her attention to the phone.

The notification announces a new letter, to her personal account. Intrigued, Hange opens it and almost squeals when she sees the username.

[email protected]

Hange stares at it for a long, long moment. The letter isn’t redirected as it usually was, meaning… the lover boy knows her personal mail address, or…

The lover boy is someone she actually knows.

Not sure which one is more improbable, Hange opens the letter. It’s an unusually short one.

It’s been almost a month since she left. I still miss her every damn day. Do you have any advice how to stop it?

In that moment, everything clicks. Every coincidence and conjunction, every moment she felt like she could connect to the lover boy, every time his dilemma perfectly reflected her own. The fact that he knows her email address and the fact that he mentioned one month, precisely the amount of time that passed since she left Sina’s Gossips… there are too many seemingly random things that together create a clear enough picture.

Hange rereads the letter again, just to make sure that it’s real, just to make sure that she isn’t imagining it, that it isn’t wishful thinking.

It doesn’t seem like it is, Hange doesn’t believe it is, and a realization forces a surprised, happy laugh out of her throat.

It takes her but a moment to set her mind, and then, Hange closes the word document with an article, not bothering to save it. She opens another one right after that, and starts writing what will be another resignation letter, this time addressed to CEO of Money Island, Theo Magath. When she finishes, Hange opens powerpoint and proceeds to make a presentation that consists of almost eighty slides.

Perhaps, not her best work, but Hange is confident it will suffice.

She doesn’t bother waiting for Magath to come back from his meeting to give him a letter. She bumps into Zeke just as she exits the small office they gave her, and she thrusts the resignation letter into his hands before he can pull her into one of his endless, mostly one-sided conversation that serve mainly to stroke his ego.

When he takes a look at the letter, Zeke seems regretful, but— not at all surprised.

“I hoped you’d stay with us for a little longer…” he confesses with a slow shake of his head. “But I guess we can’t do what we don’t love.”

“I’m sorry,” Hange says, a small compensation.

“Don’t be,” Zeke waves her off, as easily and smoothly as he does everything else. “However, if you ever decide to go on a date with someone taller than a middle-schooler…”

Really, even Zeke knows? Is she that oblivious?

“You’ll be the first one to know,” Hange laughs, feeling lighter than she did in weeks.

Without wasting anymore time, Hange ducks into her office, grabs what little things she brought here and then rushes to small, not at all impressive, but so dearly loved building of Sina’s Gossips.

Just before entering, she stops and looks up at the front door. Finally… she feels at peace.

A moment is all she allows, before she walks inside.

Her first stop is Erwin’s office, where Hange plugs a USB and starts her presentation before Erwin can even ask what she’s doing here. It takes absolutely nothing to convince him to give her position back, but it does take the whole eighty slides to make him at the very least consider her new proposition – a new segment where Hange will be observing local news. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and a promising one at that.

“But I still need you to take care of the advice column,” Erwin warns just after he surrenders to Hange’s enthusiasm that slowly starts to come back to her. “Mike is quite terrible at it.”

“Consider it done, chief!” Hange exclaims with a quick salute.

Erwin smiles and stands up to embrace her. “Then, Hange Zoe, welcome back to Sina’s Gossips.”

Hange is smiling so much, she worries that her face might break.

After Erwin, she runs straight into Nanaba’s arms. As they embrace, Nanaba laughs, then cries, then laughs again.

“God, Hange, I’m so happy you came back,” she says, wiping her tears. “I was this close to dying of boredom.”

“You don’t know boredom until you’ve worked in finance, Nana.”

They laugh in unison, and Hange’s heart is full of affection, when Nanaba wetly kisses her cheek.

Just before stopping at Moblit’s desk, Hange heads to break room and is lucky enough to find Mike eating a sandwich there.

Hange steals it with a delighted laughter, instantly taking a huge bite.

“Never thought I’d miss someone stealing my food,” he shakes his head with a big smile. “But here we are, I guess. It’s good to have you back, Hans.”

At first, Moblit doesn’t actually believe she is real. He rubs his eyes and squints at her, tentatively touches her arm, gives her another once-over, and whatever he noticed – perhaps, it’s her mismatched socks – convinces him that he isn’t seeing things.

And then gathers her in his arms.

“They made me work with Levi,” he whispers into her shoulders. “Please, don’t leave me again.”

Hange laughs – she does it a lot today, compensating for that month she spent feeling sorry for herself – and pats Moblit’s shoulder.

“Speaking of our favorite shorty, where is he?”

“In his office, probably brooding as always. Since you left, he’s been doing it more often. ”

Hange thanks Moblit with a quick peck on his cheek, and then she is moving again, now heading to her final destination.

The inside of Levi’s office is dark, and awfully quiet. The only sound is the click-clack of the keyboard and the only light comes from the computer screen. It further highlights the dark circle under his eyes and the overall paleness of his face.

Hange clears her throat to get his attention.

Levi’s eyes snap to her, widening almost immediately. There is an ocean of questions, ready to spill from his lips, but Hange doesn’t give him a chance to voice any of them.

“So there is this guy, he’s been sending letters to me since forever. He’s so sweet, a true romantic, and, well, his letters were kinda the highlight of my week,” she pauses to take a quick breath, and continues. “And I’ve been rooting so hard for him, you know? I wanted him to get together with that sweetheart of his, but I also felt like she was kinda oblivious, if you get what I’m talking about. Perhaps, not completely blind, but with a vision poor enough to miss what is right in front of her. Or, perhaps, she always has her head up in the clouds and the guy is a little short, so it’s easy to miss him? And-”

“So you’ve figured it out then?” Levi interrupts her. His calmness makes Hange more nervous.

“I have.”

“Only now?”

“Yes.”

“Hm,” a ghost of a smile dances around his narrow lips. “Completely blind then.”

Hange huffs, but she can’t resist a smile of her own. She takes a step towards his desk, hopping right on top of it.

“Just so we’re clear,” she touches his forearm, slowly moving her hand up to his shoulder. “You weren’t my reason to leave, Levi. And you aren’t the reason I’m staying. But,” she leans in, hoping that Levi is not as stupid and she is, and he gets the hint that she wants him to lean closer too. “You’re the reason I decided to come back. And for that, I can’t thank you enough.”

Hange closes her eyes, when Levi gently cups her cheek. With bated breath, she waits to feel his lips on hers.

Her lover boy doesn’t disappoint, and the gentle, loving kiss makes her head spin.

After a short moment of bliss, Levi pulls away, and Hange has to forcefully stop herself from chasing after his lips. He smirks at the dazed look in her eyes, and Hange just has to retaliate.

She strokes the skin of his cheek with the most tender of touches, shortening the distance between them with tantalizingly slow speed. Just when they’re less than a breath apart, Hange whispers, in a quiet, endlessly soft voice, “You know, Levi, wings of freedom is a really stupid username.”

Levi pushes her off the desk for that, but it’s still worth it. Even more so, since he catches her right in his arms.

And then her lover boy kisses her again. And again, and again, until her heart is so full of love that she can’t even find it in her to get angry at Mike, who snaps a picture of them and runs away to tell everyone the news.

“They’ll be gossiping about that for weeks,” Levi grumbles.

Hange laughs, smoothing the crease between his eyebrows. “Well, it’s Sina’s Gossips we’re working at. And didn’t you know? Love for the gossip is the requirement to get a position here.”

#basically yet another silly romcom from me :)#levihan

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barzzal · 4 years

Text

close to you

summary: there’s nothing more excruciating than to lose someone you’ve never imagined losing. but what happens when they’ve already left right before you can even acknowledge them leaving? mathew is yet to find out.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: falling out and break ups

↳ genre: angst.

↳ length: imagine; 1.3k

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: close to you by rihanna (listen to this it’s all that there is really)

note: unsolicited barzy angst fic because i was sad and listening to rihanna, (plus you guys know how much i love angst) this is totally unplanned and written in the past hour so im sorry if there’s sum typos bc i didn’t proofread this :<< hope u still like!! feedbacks are very much appreciated! <3

You were slipping away and he knew it.

Mathew’s mind was running wild. His thoughts were coming in one after another and no matter how hard he tried to shut it out of his head — there it was again.

The cyclical pattern of his seemingly endless misery.

The thought of losing you.

Days with you were spent either in total silence, eating lunch with the television on in the hopes of drowning out the numbing noise that was now in every corner of the home you have built with Mathew; or you know, the mandatory screaming match you indulge yourselves with even over the smallest of things.

Things only escalated the more you try to talk about it. Neither of you really knew how and when it started. And neither felt the need to say a word.

All that you and Mathew did was to watch your years crumble before your own eyes. Years that got shattered with each night spent in an ice cold bed, backs facing each other, not bothering to say a word.

“What happened to us?” his voice crisp and clear even when whispering.

You feel his gaze and you begin to resent yourself for staying up so late. You see him in the corner of your eye, patiently waiting — silently pleading that you’d look his way.

You didn’t.

Instead, you close the book you were reading and take your glasses off. You sigh just as you put it on the bedside table. Mat does nothing but watch you silently, all whilst ignoring his chest growing all the more heavy each time you push him away.

You turn to him, still not meeting his eyes before you turn your night light off. You answer with a meek reply, “I’m tired, Mat.”

“Y/N.” he calls you once but it seems like it’s been hundreds of times for him. He wanted nothing else but to reach out to you — to hold you. Maybe then he’d feel less insecure. Maybe then he’d feel less afraid of facing the fact that you’re slowly fading away farther off his reach.

He knows you heard him but he doesn’t get a reply. And you know he’d be grateful to take on crumbs you’d be willing enough to spare. However, just like the other times he’s tried, your mind numbing quietude was all he had to hold onto.

You try to drift away faster into sleep for you did not want to spend the night hearing him pick out on almost every meaningless thing you’ve done for the past couple of weeks. You were just tired. Insanely tired. And Mat had very little, perhaps almost nothing to do with it. You were lost.

“Do you still love me?” you hear a catch in his throat that instantly tugged strings in your chest.

You fall silent, finding it hard to voice the words Mat had wanted to hear.

Do you still love him?

You didn’t know.

“Baby, please talk to me.” he pleads the longer he basks in your silence. Silence that Mat knew well enough to mean just one thing.

“Please.”

Finally, as if it was the nearest he’s gotten to a win, he sees you shift, turning to face him.

To say the least, you weren’t sure of how you feel towards Mathew. Being with him through all these years have been good, yes — but days weren’t always sunshine. It wasn’t always a calming afternoon walk holding each other’s hands, swaying it in the air, whilst you listen to birds chirping beautifully all year ‘round. Being with Mat came with its own sacrifices. Ones you cannot point out no matter how hard you tried and ones that just made him so hard to love.

“I’m sorry.” you murmur. You avert his gaze, keeping your eyes low on the sheets you’ve once shared wrapped around your naked bodies in search of warmth in each other’s embrace.

You never left Mat’s eyes because leaving you was the last thing he wanted to do. He hesitates to take a few strands that went astray to your face just so he could tuck it behind your ears like he always does. When you lean closer, nudging him to do just that, he feels a kindling fire in his chest. An all too familiar feeling he has deeply missed.

His touch did not make you want to pull away nor did it burn you like it used to. A sad smile creeps up his lips once you finally take the leap and look in his eyes.

“I know you are,” he says, clearing his throat. “And it’s okay. I understand.”

Mat wanted to. He truly does. He wanted to be selfish and just think about his own good. Letting you go wasn’t something he pictured doing because he knows that you know it has never crossed his mind.

Mat wanted to do everything against what willed his heart. But he knew too that letting you keep him at bay just to spare his feelings would do more damage than it could fix and he just couldn’t afford having to lose you twice. He could barely walk through this conversation now. Therefore he’s certainly sure he wouldn’t be able to handle losing you more than once.

“I think I need to figure out some things on my own.” you tell him earnestly. A thing that you’ve wanted to let out ever since coming home to Mathew felt more work than it’s worth.

“Are you gonna be gone for long?” he asks, voice thick and impending to break at any moment.

“I don’t know.” you answer with candor, an apologetic tone masking your words.

Nonetheless, no matter how much you did not want to spend the night breaking Mathew’s heart, he lets you rip one final bandage — exposing a long overdue wound that was without a doubt far from healing, “I won’t really know unless I try, right?”

“Okay.” he smiles, eyes softer than it ever was.

“I’ll be exactly where you left me.”

The night grows deeper as the two of you sink in what seems to be the hardest falling-out you’ve yet to go through. A break up that would definitely stick around Mathew’s end for he has never loved someone as much as he loved you. Perhaps, even more to put himself in the most selfless position he would willingly let himself into.

“What do we do now?” you ask, your voice low and on the brink of letting out a thick sob.

Mat takes your hand and entwines it with his. He holds you tight. He lets his forehead rest on yours, breathing out the pain that’s successfully wrenched his heart in seconds.

He pulls himself closer to you — pouring all he has left to give. Slowly, as he finally let himself pull away, he says, “We sleep.”

No matter how much you wanted to say your piece, you just could not find the words that fit. And so, you do the sanest thing you could give him, leaning closer to every bit of his touch as if the clock had only started ticking.

You see Mathew’s eyes glisten from the moonlight shining from across the room. If only you knew how bad you’re going to miss it. If only you’d appreciated it while you had the chance. If only you knew that the last thing Mat wanted was to see you right before he closed his eyes.

“Good night, y/n.” he says, still holding your hand close to his chest.

God, if you had only known those eyes will be gone the moment you open yours, you would’ve held onto his hand a bit longer. Long enough before he emptied his closet the morning after. Long enough before he had the chance to wipe out every single trace he’s left your apartment. Perhaps even long enough for you to change your mind.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal angst #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #barzzal imagines #letters to barzy

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harryhandstan · 4 years

Text

so..I hate that this is so late but happy to finally have this done and be posting it for y’all! hope you enjoy! thank you to my betas @tbslenthusiast, @serendipitystyles, and @summertimestyles you’re all angels!! also sham was so kind to help me create a playlist for this fic which you can find here!

this is for @taintedwonder‘s Styles Valentine’s Day fic challenge and most of the photos from the header were my inspo along with prompts 3. Can you just hold my hand? and 6. Let’s run away together.

as always any likes, rbs, replies, and feedback is welcome and very much appreciated!

word count: 4.1k

writing tag | masterlist

You can read his face before he even opens his mouth to speak.

“You have to leave again, don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer at first, just joins you where you sit on the bed, an arm around your waist to urge you closer to him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, as if that will soothe the sting of what he’s about to say. He buries his face into your neck before he speaks.

“Only for a little while, angel.”

You don’t respond by returning the kiss like you normally would, narrowing your eyes down to where he’s hiding his face, “How long is a ‘little while’?”

“You could always come with me, y’know..”

He’s avoiding the answer and he knows it, eyes darting up only briefly to look at your face.

“How long, Harry?”

He’s fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt now, focusing on the loose thread hanging instead.

You nudge him lightly, pulling his attention back up to you, “Just say it! How long?”

He sucks in a big breath before releasing it and then the words come out in a rush, “A few weeks, possibly a month.”

You have to take your own deep breath before asking, “When do you have to leave?”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Promise.”

“My flight’s on the 14th.”

“February 14th? As in we don’t get to spend Valentine’s Day together?”

“M’so sorry, love, I really thought we were gonna get to spend the day together.”

He’s pulled back from where he was hiding his face, studying yours now. It hurts him to see the disappointment written there; the pinch in your brow, the downturned corners of your mouth, the way your eyes have temporarily lost their shine and fallen misty.

“Ya really could come with me, y’know. Take a bit of time off, would do you some good to take a break.”

He knows better, knows it’s just a fantasy that you would ever be able to get that much time off from work to be able to travel with him.

“C’mon, love, let’s run away together.”

The way he’s looking at you know, it really wouldn’t take much more convincing to turn his fantasy into a reality.

“What am I gonna do when I’m cold and don’t have you as my personal heater to help me get warm?”

“S’why I left you my pillow to snuggle with. There’s a ton of extra blankets too, use as many of those as ya need.”

How could you explain that no amount of warmth from any blanket would ever compare to his? A blanket wasn’t capable of softly brushing your hair back from your face or tenderly pressing it’s lips to yours as you drift off to sleep. You open your mouth to try to illustrate such facts, but you close your mouth just as quick. You aren’t trying to be difficult or clingy, and you don’t want your last bit of time together to be filled with your complaints.

That thought only lasts for a moment, your anxiety building with each mile closer to the airport, “Well what do I do when your pillow doesn’t smell like you anymore?”

“I’ll try to be back before that happens, deal? Besides, you’ve got a whole drawer of my t-shirts to sleep in too. They all smell like me, right?”

“They do, but, Harry..what if..”

“Shh, hey, we’ve been through this before, right? S’gonna be hard for me to be away from you too, but I promise we’ll be alright. You can call me anytime you’re missin’ me, remember?”

His voice is that of someone trying to pacify a small child just before a tantrum, and you feel as though you’re being whiny and unreasonable. Missing him when he was away was almost unbearable though; everything seemed heavy and dimmer and you know it would feel like an eternity before you were together again.

“Promise we’ll make up today the second I come home. You plan the whole day and just tell me when and where to show up, okay?’

The fact that it was Valentine’s Day didn’t matter so much to you. You and Harry made it a point throughout your days spent together to express your love to one another whenever you could, so today was really just..another day to spend together. So it’s missing him that has tears forming in your eyes again, just as they had the night before.

“Can you just hold my hand? Until..” You don’t finish the sentence, letting your voice trail off so he won’t hear it break.

“‘Course I can, baby.” He offers his hand, never taking his eyes off the road even as he lifts your hand to his mouth to place a kiss to the back of it.

Though you know he would never admit to it, you swear you feel the speed of the car slow just the tiniest bit, Harry wanting to add as much to your limited time together as he can.

Despite it still being light outside, coming home to the space you normally share together alone makes you want to do nothing but crawl right back in bed. It’s mid-afternoon and with Harry not home to motivate you to do something more productive, that’s exactly what you aim to do.

After dropping your purse and keys near the door and double checking the locks, you’re startled by the sight of a bouquet of bright pink roses adorning your dining room table. They definitely weren’t there when you left, and you pluck the small card nestled between the flowers with your name scrawled across the front. It’s Harry’s almost illegible handwriting and the sight of it makes your heart soar with excitement before you flip it open to read the message.

It’s simple and small, more of his writing scratched across the cream colored paper in bold, black ink. Love, love, love, H. There’s a badly drawn heart underneath the note, and that makes you giggle out loud, filling the silence. If Harry were here, he’d have some cheeky comment about how adorable your laughter is, how he loved the sound of it.

“Don’t want you moping around the whole time m’gone, yeah? Promise me y’ll do more than just sulk around the place until I get back?” This reminder was given just before he’d had to rush off to catch his plane, giving you no time to offer him much more than a quick peck and a sad smile as an agreement.

So technically what you plan to do would not be considered breaking a promise, just..catching up on the sleep you would’ve gotten if you hadn't had to wake up so early to ride with Harry to the airport. Normally that was something you would decline to do, preferring to sleep in, which Harry usually was fine with; but this time he had insisted on you accompanying him on his drive, wanting to get as much time with you on this day as he could.

Just as you're about to venture down the hallway to the bedroom, you spot another item you’re sure hadn’t been on your coffee table earlier that morning when you’d left. It’s a medium sized box, messily wrapped with red paper and tied with purple ribbon and a bow. It’s quite heavy when you lift it, so you sit on the nearby couch to avoid dropping it. You waste no time tearing the paper away, lifting the lid to reveal a candle surrounded by tissue paper.

There’s a pack of two lighters wedged next to the candle, and you curiously pull it from the box first to see more of Harry’s handwriting on a red sticky note.

Baby you light up my world like nobody else...

That pulls another laugh from you, this one is bigger and echoes through the dimly lit space. The candle itself is a scent he knows you love, and you bring it closer to your face and inhale deeply. The smell of it helps ease even more of the unease and sadness of him being gone. You dig your phone out of your pocket to check the time and try to calculate whether his plane has landed and he would be able to answer a call from you.

You ultimately decide to nap first and give him a chance to get settled. He would most likely be calling you later anyway, missing you just as much as you missed him and wanting to hear your voice. You could thank him then for the flowers, candle, and the laugh. So you continue your journey to the bedroom, slipping out of your clothes and sliding open the drawer of Harry’s t-shirts. He’s right, they do all smell like him and you run your fingers along the soft fabrics before selecting one.

It’s plain white, one of his undershirts normally tucked beneath his expensive button ups and ruffles, but today it’s perfect and comforting attire to doze off in. It’s loose and just long enough on you that you don’t feel the need to put on a pair of your pj shorts with it, The bed is still messy from the morning, and you swear you can still see the outline of where Harry’s body normally tucks next to you on his side. You pull the blanket back and crawl into your usual spot, but it doesn’t feel right; it’s too empty and quiet without Harry.

You grab his pillow from his side and try your best to replicate the way you would curl yourself around him if he was here. It takes a bit of time to adjust, but eventually you give up and just try to relax into the mattress as much as possible, covering your head slightly with the blanket to surround yourself with warmth.

You peek through the space uncovered to the alarm clock on the bedside table on Harry’s side, the bright red letters read 12:32 p.m. and you let out a deep sigh before drifting off to sleep. If you weren’t so tired, the thought that crosses your mind might just make you laugh again.

Alone in bed in the afternoon on Valentine’s Day. What a shame.

You wake with a start, bolting upwards at the sound of your phone ringing loudly from somewhere near the bed. You don’t even bother to open your eyes to see who it is, just following the motions to answer and plop back down onto your spot as you let out an almost breathless and groggy “hello?”

“Not missin’ me too much, I see, took you a whole minute to answer,'' You know he’s joking by the hint of amusement in his voice and relief floods through your chest before any other feeling at the idea of him making it safely to his destination, “You alright, love? Sound a bit outta breath. Having some fun in our bed without me?”

“I..no, I was napping, promise, your call just scared me awake..how did you know I’m in bed?”

“I’m only teasing. Just a guess, figured you’d find your way back to the bed not long after you got home.”

“Found the flowers and the candle. Your note on the lighters made me laugh, thank you. How’d you do that though? They weren’t there when we left for the airport and you didn’t come back in.”

“Had one of my assistants drop the flowers off, and the candle’s been stashed in the closet for a week so she set it out for me while she was there. Wish I could’ve been there to see your face and hear that laugh,” He giggles at the thought of it, “S’that all you found? The flowers and the candle? I assume you found the one in the bathroom too, right?”

You’re more alert now, sitting up again to try to process what he’s saying more easily, “What do you mean? There’s more? The bathroom?”

“A few more, yeah. Hid here and there for you to find.”

“You left me a scavenger hunt? Do I at least get clues to help me find them all?”

“I’ve just given you one, haven’t I? Might be persuaded to give you a few more later.”

You’re up off the bed now, making your way to the bathroom where another surprise awaits. You hesitate for only a moment, stopping just as you reach the door.

“What’s in the bathroom? More flowers? One of those big, fluffy teddy bears?”

“M’not gonna tell you! You gotta go in to find out!”

Flipping on the light switch has you gasping at what you see. A heart, entirely made from more red sticky notes, each one embellished with reminders of his love for you. You stumble over words, trying to form a coherent response.

He senses your shock even through the phone and graciously gives you a moment before asking, “S’the heart all wonky or does it look nice? Told them to make it as straight as possible.”

“H..it’s beautiful! How did you have time to write all these before you left?”

“Finished up most of them last night after you fell asleep. They came to me a lot easier with my muse snoring next to me.”

You truly don’t know what to say to that. You’ve never had someone be so bright and loud with their love for you and just this simple expression makes you feel so incredibly special and loved.

You know that emotion is flowing through the phone when he speaks again, softer and lower, “Y’sure you won’t let me fly you out here to be with me?”

There’s the sound of another voice before Harry barks out another laugh, “Jeff says m’proper miserable without you. He said he’d pay you whatever your salary would be for the next month just to have you here.”

“Tempting, but..” Harry knows how much you love your job and how such a long absence would jeopardize the career you’ve built, so you know he probably won’t mention it again.

“Technically it was gonna be part of my present for you, so..I’ll give you another clue.”

“How very generous of you, H. Will this one make me cry too?”

“Maybe. Knowing you, probably,” You roll your eyes but listen for further instructions, “Just remember I had to rush and there’s still a few I didn’t get to add but, go get your laptop.”

“What’d you do to my laptop?”

“Would ya just go get it? C’mon I’ve gotta hang up soon and I wanna hear your reaction before I hafta go.”

“Alright, I got it. What now?”

“Go to your music library.” He gives you a moment to navigate through your programs, “Should be a playlist there with your name on it, lovie. Wait, are you already crying?”

“Shut up! Yes!” You wipe at your eyes with the hem of his t-shirt you’re still wearing as you try to read over the list of songs, “This is so sweet! The flowers, the candle, the heart and now this. Harry..I didn’t get you anything and you did all this for me. Thank you, I love you.”

“Love you more,” You can just picture the smug smile on his face, pleased that he’s done a good job of surprising you, “You can make it up to me later.”

“Don’t push your luck there, H. You’ve just been forgiven, I still have time to change my mind, you know.”

“I know. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” You hear what you assume to be Jeff’s voice again in the background, “I gotta go, babe. I’ll try to call again later, alright?”

“Wait! I don’t get any more clues? Can you at least tell me how many more are left?”

“S’no fun for me if I give away all my secrets now, is it?”

It’s only a day later when you find yourself in the kitchen, uncertain about what to make for dinner, eyes scanning over the ingredients in your pantry. Your laptop sits on the counter nearby, and you hum along to My Girl playing through the speakers, a song selected for you by Harry for the playlist he recently made for you.

You’re about to give up and heat up your leftovers from the Italian take-out you had treated yourself to the night before, when you spot the pack of Haribo gummy bears wedged in the corner. You almost have to stand on your tip-toes to reach it, and when you run your hand along the shelf you find another bag of sweets not far from the gummy bears. You smile down at the two bags, his favorite candy and yours sitting side by side.

There’s another of Harry’s red sticky notes on the pack of gummy bears: Being away from you is unBEARable. More of his cheesy jokes you’re sure he thought of himself. Your candy is void of any words, just another messily drawn heart, this time with your name in the middle.

You decide to FaceTime him this time, wanting to see his face. It only takes 3 rings for him to answer, a tender “Hi, baby.” falling from his lips. The room he’s in is dimly lit, but you can still see him well enough to notice his hair is damp. His curls are more pronounced than usual, which was a sign he’d been too tired to much more than probably run his fingers through after his shower.

“Found another of your surprises.” You hold the candy up for him to see and he smiles.

“Better save me some of those Haribo, and not just all the colors ya don’t like either.”

You tear open the bag, sticking your tongue out at him before popping a few into your mouth, “I might, if you tell me where all the other surprises are.”

You can see him temporarily consider it, biting his bottom lip and meeting your gaze before he shakes his head, “Nah. I will tell you there’s only one more though..well, depends on how you look at it, but to me they only count as one.”

“They?”

He mimics locking his lips, and you decide to drop it for now, knowing you would most likely have to trick or beg him to tell you later. You’d let him think he won. For now.

You roll the top of the bag of candy down, opening the cabinet to tuck them back into the same corner you found them in. They just didn’t taste the same without him there to enjoy them with you. Plus you still had a still had leftover garlic knots and mushroom ravioli you planned to dig into later.

“S’that the playlist I made for you? Sounds like it.”

The song has changed to At Last, Etta James’ voice filling the small kitchen, “Yeah. I love this song.”

“Me too. Reminds me of you now..my love,” You sway a bit to the music before stopping, leaning forward to where your phone is propped on the counter, “Wish I was there t’dance with you.”

You try your best to hold back your emotions of missing him, but you imagine how he would rest his hands on your hips if was here. How he would spin you to face him and move his hands to rest on your back while he led you around in a slow circle across the floor. It wasn’t just his hands you longed for, it was the way he would bend to your ear to sing along to whatever song you were dancing to, especially one like this he knew you loved. You missed his voice in person, the way it would surround you with a comfort and peace you’d never be able to replicate with anything else.

No matter what you do you can’t stop your thoughts from trailing to how when the song was over, he would lift you to sit on the counter and kiss your forehead. You’re wearing one of his hoodies tonight, and you pull the sleeve down over your hands to use to try to quickly wipe away any tears before he sees them. Once you feel you’ve reined in your emotions to the best of your abilities, you clear your throat before speaking again.

“I miss you, H.”

“I miss you too, angel.”

The music has changed again, Don’t Worry Baby by The Beach Boys lifting the mood enough you don’t feel so heavy and overwhelming with your yearning for him. You take a deep breath, planning to ask him about his day, but before you have a chance he says, “Go to your bedside table. The top drawer.”

“What?”

“M’tryin’ to tell you where your last surprise is. Go to our bedroom and look in the drawer. I’ll wait.”

You flash him a smile before turning to make your way out of the kitchen, through your living room and down the hall to your bedroom. It takes a bit of searching before you uncover a stack of bright, pastel colored envelopes tied together with the same purple ribbon as the candle from the day before. You work quickly to untie the knot and turn the lamp on so you can read the front of each one. There’s 4 total; open when you need a laugh, open when you miss my hugs, open when you need a reminder of my love, open when you miss me.

You tear into the final one immediately, setting the others aside for later. It’s not very long, the perfect length to boost your spirit even further. Just the thought of him taking time to sit down and write his expression of love for you makes you grin, and has that same feeling of being loved spreading through you as it did the previous day when you saw the heart on the bathroom mirror.

You had almost forgotten leaving him on hold in the kitchen until you hear, even from 3 rooms away, the sound of him singing along to whatever song is playing now. You close your eyes, picturing for a moment that it’s a typical night when he’s home, darting around the kitchen while he makes dinner or puts dishes away.

You make your way back through the house to him, envelope in hand. Each one had been a different color so the second he sees which one you have his eyes brighten, his smile growing bigger the closer you get.

“Of course you opened that one first. Did y’like it?”

You shake your head no, breaking into a laugh when you see the look of disappointment on his face, “I loved it. Very charming of you to do all this just for me, H.”

“Yeah? I did a good job surprising you then?”

You roll your eyes. This man and his need for praise was too much, but he was yours, and you were his and you would do anything to assure him that you loved him just as much as he loved you.

“You did an amazing job, really, Harry. I never expected you to be able to do so much so last minute.”

His mouth drops open in mock dismay, looking down and shaking his head, “I can’t believe you would ever doubt me!”

You don’t say anything, just shake your own head at his teasing, sharing a look of adoration before you look away.

“Hey, did I leave my lip balm there? The coconut kind I use before bed? Thought I had it in my duffel but I couldn’t find it when I got here.”

“Yep. I used it earlier when I got out of the shower. Want me to send it to you?”

“Nah, you don’t have to, but..you could bring it to me in person if you wanted.”

“I would if I could, Harry.”

The tone of a new text from your phone startles you, and you try to suppress your elation as best you can at who it’s from. It’s Jeff, confirming the time of your flight he’d helped you schedule for the following day. Harry knows you too well, would instantly be able to read your face and be suspicious of what you were up to. You step away from his line of sight to let the thrill run through you, to let it fully wash over you so he wouldn’t see. You return as quickly as you can, brushing it off as if you’d just gotten a text from your boss or a friend. He was oblivious, none the wiser at what you were planning.

It was your turn to surprise him.

#stylesvdaychallenge #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing

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queridopascal · 3 years

Text

The new job (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Part 1 of the “Ad Astra” series

Summary: as your eyes scanned the page, the words “spatial coordinates” and the phrase “writings and symbols no one has been able to decipher” made your eyes widen and your interest spike... (word count: 1.7k)

Warning: mention of food and drinks

A/N: my first ever Mando fic/series (even though we don't get to meet him in this first chapter)! Huge thanks to @hnt-escape for beta reading, and I hope you guys enjoy it ✨

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ❤️

NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Sitting alone in your home office with a mug of coffee in your hand, you shuffled through the heap of unopened mail you found upon your return from your last expedition: advertising brochures, leaflets, bills and, at the bottom of the stack, a cream-coloured paper envelope with slightly torn edges.

Prompted by curiosity, you put down the mug and opened the letter with an old knife you kept in the first drawer: it was typewritten, dated 25th of September and signed at the bottom by a certain Elizabeth Williams.

As your eyes scanned the page, the words “spatial coordinates” and the phrase “writings and symbols no one has been able to decipher” made your eyes widen and your interest spike. Your work as an archaeologist had given you the opportunity to travel the world, discover different types of artifacts and ruins, get closer to cultures and their ancient origins; but something inside of you, a feeling in your gut, was telling you that what was described in the letter was unique and, possibly, something you had never seen before.

Without giving it a second thought, you dialed the phone number scribbled underneath the signature and waited with bated breath as you began fidgeting with a pen, clicking it open with every beeping sound coming from the other side.

“Hello?” a calm tone greeted you.

“Mrs. Williams?” you asked, clearing your throat.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Hi, I’m-”

“I know who you are, I’ve been waiting for your call.” the woman said with a smile in her voice.

“Oh,” you gasped, “I... received your letter and I would love to hear more about this artifact you mention.”

“Great. I’ll have someone pick you up tomorrow morning at 9 sharp.”

“Thanks, Mrs Williams,” you nodded, “do I… have to bring anything?”

“Your knowledge will be sufficient, my dear.”

Once you both ended the call, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, feeling anxious and impatient for what was about to come and reliving the exact same sensations you had experienced the day of your very first excavation.

After a sleepless night, you were awakened by the furious pitter patter of heavy rain against the windows. The dark grey of the sky made every room of your house incredibly cold and humid, and you put on your favorite cardigan as you dragged your feet into the kitchen to prepare something for breakfast.

When you finished eating, you took a quick shower and got dressed in your favorite black pencil skirt and a white blouse, a matching blazer and a pair of heels completed the look. You took a seat on the couch in your living room and waited for the driver.

At 9AM there was a knock at your front door, and you immediately grabbed your blazer and your purse and walked over to it.

“Good morning, Miss,” the driver bowed his head a little and extended his gloved hand to you while opening a black umbrella with the other. “Please, follow me. Mrs. Williams and her colleagues are waiting for you.”

You put your hand in his as he walked you over to the sedan; he opened the car door and waited for you to get in, shutting it swiftly once you got comfortable in the cream leather back seat.

After a two hours drive, the car stopped in front of a wired mesh and barbed wire fence, lined with several “Military Zone” signs. A couple of seconds later, the guarded gates opened with a screech, letting the car enter what looked like a tunnel carved inside of a mountain.

The driver pulled up in front of a large white door with soldiers on either side, where an elderly woman waited with crossed arms.

“Goodmorning my dear,” the woman stepped towards you. “I’m Elizabeth. Welcome to the Falls Hill military installation.”

She hugged you tightly and you stiffened at first, looking at the two soldiers, whose eyes were fixed on a point in front of them.

“Come, I’ll show you around.”

One of the guards stepped to the side and held the door open for you and Mrs. Williams. The large corridor that extended in front of you reminded you of a war bunker: it was grey and cold, illuminated by pale neon lights, and it had the same distinctive smell you would find in the subway.

You followed her obediently, and when she reached the end of the corridor, she slowly opened a set of double doors bearing an "Authorized Personnel Only" sign; taking a step forward, your mouth dropped open in wonder as soon as you laid eyes on what looked like a giant stone ring covered with strange inscriptions.

“I've never seen anything like this,” you gulped, keeping your eyes fixed on the object.

Mrs. Williams chuckled, pleased at your reaction. “No one has, my dear.”

“Can I…?” you asked in a trembling voice as you pointed at the artifact.

Elizabeth nodded and you walked over to it, placing your hand on the rough surface of the stone to feel the engraved characters under your fingers.

“These inscriptions,” you started, turning to her, “might be hieratic or maybe cuneiform, I think I've seen some of those symbols before.”

“Perhaps you could help us with the interpretation?” she moved to stand beside you and tilted her head to the side, looking at you expectantly.

“Yeah, of course. I'll get to work right away.”

The hours passed quickly, and between one cup of coffee and another, it was already evening. The succession of symbols and characters engraved in the stone kept repeating in your mind, a mix of infinite combinations and interpretations, from the most logical to the least plausible.

Wrinkling your eyes for tiredness, you looked up from all your papers and notes, finding a new possible interpretation of the second row that made your heart race.

“Mrs. Williams, was anything else found in the proximity of this object?”

“I was hoping you'd ask me,” she smiled and motioned you to follow her.

Elizabeth led you through a hallway and stopped in front of another door, resting both hands on the opening handle.

“You are not to speak of this to anyone, understand?”

You simply nodded, your breath catching in your throat at her request.

“Mrs. Williams, I haven't issued any new authorization papers for this lady.” a baritone voice captured your attention, and you turned around only to find a soldier in uniform staring back at you.

“Colonel Shaw, it's nice to see you again,” Elizabeth greeted him with a gentle smile, but the man looked at her with a serious and impenetrable gaze.

“Mrs. Williams, I don't think I'll have to remind you that what's inside this room is classified.” he walked over to the both of you, his expression unfazed.

“She's the new addition to my team, Colonel,” she said, looking him straight into his icy blue eyes, “a world-renowned archaeologist who is going to help us decipher the inscriptions on the stone ring.”

“Exactly. Then why are you here?” he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Because,” you cleared your throat “the second row of inscriptions refers to another object, described as the portal.”

The Colonel raised an eyebrow at you and sighed, then looked at Elizabeth.

“Permission denied.”

“Excuse me, Colonel Shaw. I was told you would have given me carte blanche, especially since the government authorized this project,” she stepped towards him with her usual calm tone.

“Not for long,” he retorted, “you have one more week Mrs. Williams, the clock is ticking. And since she doesn't have any authorization at the moment, I won't grant her access into this room.”

“Then I guess I'll have to ask Captain Gallo,” she crossed her arms. “See, he was the one who helped us get started with this project and I'm sure he would authorize this young lady in a heartbeat.”

The Colonel exhaled angrily, his jaw was clenched in frustration and you smiled to yourself.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth “You have my permission.”

6 days later

Staring at the portal, the inscripted characters on dark metal and stone looked so similar to something you had seen before, but also so different. You felt intimidated by that object, almost in awe, it was as if it gave off vibrations within the room, as if it wanted to give you clues to solve that riddle that had been keeping you and the rest of the team awake for days.

“Morning guys,” Elizabeth walked into the research lab with a box of donuts, “I brought something to eat.”

“Thanks,” you beamed at her as you took a glazed donut from the container. “I really needed something with sugar.”

“How is the research going?”

“Bad,” Linda, one of the members of the team, shook her head, “no matches whatsoever.”

“Is that so?” Elizabeth turned to you, her expression somber.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “even if the inscriptions look familiar to us, when comparing them to all the material we have available, we found no similarities. We’re missing something and tomorrow is the last day.”

“I’m gonna ask for a permit extension, I'm sure they'll grant it to me,” she stroked your back, comforting you.

“I found another reference!” Linda squealed with excitement “Shall we start with the comparison?”

“Absolutely,” you rushed to her side and took a seat on the corner of her desk, looking at the monitor of her computer.

The documents she had just found showed incredible similarities, and referred to an engraved metal fragment found a few months earlier in the Atacama Desert.

“These three symbols are exactly the same ones of the central row!” you exclaimed, not believing your eyes.

Linda nodded, then gulped, “They also say here that they found out some symbols represent a stylized version of constellations, and that this type of metal is not…”

“Terrestrial,” you added as you kept on reading the description under one of the pictures.

Mrs. Williams looked at the both of you with a proud smile, then she walked over to the other desk and dialed a number on the phone.

“Captain, we finally found a match for the inscriptions.”

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#ad astra series #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #mando x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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ambria · 4 years

Text

everytime // Sirius Black

Sweetener x Marauders

play ‘everytime’ by Ariana Grande <3

pairing: sirius black x reader

word count: 2.3k ✨

warnings: angst, fluff at the end, mentions of drinking, under-age drinking, partying, depression?, mentions of drugs and drug use, someone trying to take advantage on the drunk reader, crying? Let me know if I missed something.

This also might have a few time jumps

A/N: I wrote this in 1st person but I feel like I should make these in 3rd so that’s what I’ll start doing. But this is also my first time making a one-shot fic so cut me some slack if it’s trash. But I hope you enjoy!

I get tired of your no-shows

Taking in the warmth through my fingers I look at the door once more before glancing at the clock.

He’s late. Again

I take a deep breath to cool down my nerves and sigh. I sip the rest of my butterbeer before looking at the entrance once more and packing my stuff and walking out. I look around once more before giving up and walking back to the castle.

You get tired of my control

As I’m walking back I start to get more irritated by the step. This isn’t the first time he’s done this. Always too busy to hang out because of him with his friends or too busy because of pranks. The missed dates and the interrupted times. All for his friends. I’m clearly not a priority in his life and that has to change or I’m not going to be in it.

Walking through the castle I collect my thoughts on how I’m gonna approach this situation. But since I’m so pissed off, I’m gonna take an angry approach.

I walk up to the gryffindor common room and say the password before walking in.

As I stepped into the common room, lo and behold, the marauders spread on the couches talking loudly and laughing. Seeing that made my blood boil. As I walk over I catch the attention of the brunet,

“Y/N!!!!! Hey!!!” The Potter boy called out. I gave a weak smile. Which caught the attention of my boyfriend.

“Hey, babe.” He smiled at me. I internally roll my eyes and keep an emotionless face on. At this point all the attention from the boys is on me.

“Hey. Can we talk?” In the corner of my eye I can see Remus and James glance at each other and look worriedly at Sirius. Yeah. They know better.

“Uhh. Sure. About what?” This time I rolled my eyes. I ignore his question and grab his hand before dragging him up to his dorm.

We enter and I close the door before leaning on it. He goes and sits on the foot on his bed.

“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.” Bouncing his knee, I can tell he’s getting impatient and just wants this to hurry up and be done with this. I get even more annoyed at this.

“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.”- I mocked him- “This is exactly what I’m talking about! You’re always busy! Doing this and doing that!” I start to raise my voice. My face starts to heat up due to my anger. I try to calm down but it doesn’t seem to be working.

He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off,

“Where were you today?! I was waiting for you! For our date that YOU literally planned!” His eyes widened with realization and looked at me with a guilty face. But I’m too pissed off to care.

My eyes start to water with tears of frustration but I’m nowhere near done,

“Everytime I want to hang out you’re always busy with your friends and pranks! You never have time for me anymore!” At this point tears are streaming down my face and Sirius doesn’t look that far behind.

“This is the third date you missed! Because you forgot! I’m done with being second best. Im probably not even that!” He has his head down, hands on his knees.

“I—I-I” he stutters out what I think is going to be some wack apology. But I’m done. I can’t do it anymore.

“No. I’m done.” As soon as I said those words his head shot up fast and looked at me with wide eyes.

“No-” he goes to protest but I cut him off again.

“No I can’t do this. Not anymore. This has gone on for too long. You need to fix your priorities. I hope you don’t treat another girl like this. I’m breaking up with you, Sirius.” I don’t wait for a reply and I simply walk out of the door and walk back down to the common room, wiping my tears.

They keep telling me to let go

As I make it to the common room I notice the boys are still there. They see me and go to talk but a loud sound cuts them off. Items getting thrown around, is what I guessed it to be.

We all freeze and guilt washes over me. It’s Sirius.

But I don’t really let go when I say so

I turn my head to the staircase with a sad expression before brushing it off.

I had to. I deserve better. I thought to myself.

I look over to the boys to see that they have worried but knowing expressions on their faces. I gave them weak smiles and walked away to my dorm.

I keep giving people blank stares

Drama travels fast around here at Hogwarts. So it wasn’t long until word got out that infamous Sirius Black was single again and back on the market.

My friends are starting to get worried about me because of my reaction to the breakup, or lack thereof. I know how to keep my emotions buried. I know it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism but I refuse to be sad over a boy who treated me like shit.

I’m so different when your not there

What they don’t know is that I cry myself to sleep. Everyday. I close my curtains around my bed and put a silencing spell around it and sob. For hours. It’s pretty sad.

But I keep my neutral face on for everyone else. From what I know Sirius isn’t doing much better. He’s just more open about his broken heart. Lily tells me he mopes around and doesn’t speak much anymore. Let alone prank anyone.

Everytime she tells me about him being sad it makes me want to run out the room and find him to cuddle with him and kiss him and apologize profusely for the break up.

But I remind myself that it’s not my fault and that I deserve better.

It’s like something out of Shakespeare

Because I’m really not here when you’re not there

I tried to fight our energy

It's been three months since the break up and I have developed some pretty bad habits.

I’ve secretly been drinking to numb the pain. I know it’s not healthy but I can’t seem to stop.

Once all my roommates are sleeping I drink by myself on my bed. It helped in the beginning but now I can’t stop.

I’ve perfected my fake smile so no one could tell the difference. Well one person did, but I was unaware.

I’m in a deep depression and I have no one to talk to. None of my friends know, I can’t tell them. They won’t understand.

Meanwhile,

“Pads, you can’t keep moping around. She’s moved on, you should too.”

“No, I can’t. I still love her.” Sirius said but due to him being face first on his pillow it came out muffled.

“Well then you’re going to have to work your way to get her back. Show her you’ve changed.” The werewolf suggested to his friend.

“Really?” He picks his head up to face his friends, red and puffy eyes with a hopeful expression.

They nod.

But everytime I think I’m free

As the weeks pass I start to receive notes and letters with little flowers attached to them. I know they are from Sirius but I can’t seem to open them and read. It’s too hard and I’m not ready yet.

You get high and call on the regular

Once I reach my empty dorm I run to my trunk and collect all the saved letters. I place them on my bed and chuck my shoes off before climbing on my bed while getting comfortable.

I sort the letter from how I received them. I slowly open the first one,

Dear y/n,

Looking at us now I regret a lot of things.

I don’t blame you for not seeing us together in the future.

I was horrible, but for you I am willing to change. No. I will change.

You deserve so much better and if you let me I could be that person.

But I have to fix myself in order for that to happen.

If you're willing I would love to have another chance.

forever yours,

Sirius

As I finish reading my eyes are cloudy with tears. I continue to read all of the letters.

And by the end of it I’m sobbing.

I get weak and fall like a teenager

I knew it was a bad idea to read those letters. Because after that I am ready to run back into his arms and express my love. But I can’t until I know that he’s changed.

I deserve better. I keep telling myself that.

Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?

Everytime I see him now I try to avoid him. Everytime he’s in a room, I leave. Everytime class is over I run out before he gets the chance to talk to me.

Because I know if I take one look into his beautiful stormy gray eyes I will fall all over again. And that can’t happen.

I deserve better.

I get drunk, pretend that I’m over it

It’s Friday night and today is the big Gryffindor party. Being stressed with liquor and drugs is not a good combo but I haven’t been safe these past couple of months.

I’m in my dorm room getting ready. I decide on a natural glam look with a bold red lip and a black satin body con dress with some black heels.

As I’m walking down the stairs, I can hear the music blasting and the red led lights are turned on. I part from my friends and immediately head to the liquor table. As I’m walking I fail to notice the pair of eyes following my every move.

I take a plastic red cup and I fill it up with the hardest liquor I could find on the table. After downing the cup I refill it and make my way over to my friends who are currently in the corner smoking what the muggles call ‘weed’. It’s strong but it helps me relax. Who knew muggle were so helpful.

Self-destruct, show up like an idiot

About an hour into the party everyone was either high, drunk or both. Which I was. Again me with my unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I ended up dancing in the middle of the room with a huge group of people. I feel eyes on me but I’m too drunk to care at the moment.

As I’m dancing I feel someone come up behind me and grab my hips. I turn around to see a random 7th year boy. He begins to trail his hands on my body.

He leans down to whisper in my ear,

“How about we go to my down, sweetheart?” His hot breath makes a shiver run down my spine, and not in a good way.

I began to shake my head while saying no but he clearly didn’t get the message because he gripped my wrists and tried to pull me with him. But because I was too drunk I couldn’t defend myself properly.

As I continue to struggle I see a person step in front of me, glaring at the boy,

“I suggest you let her go. Now.” I heard a familiar voice, I couldn’t tell who from my drunken state. Once the person turned around a smile involuntarily appeared on my face,

“Siri! Hi!” I giggled as he guided me away from everyone.

“Hi. Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He picks me up bridal style and starts to carry me up to the boys dorms and to his room.

I yawned and cuddled up into his chest,

“I’m still mad at you.” I mumbled. He set me down on his bed and goes to his trunk to take out some clothes,

“I know.” He said, sadly. As he’s helping me I go on a mini rant,

“You know you treated me horrible. I just wanted my boyfriend but you never made time for me. You missed dates, you cancelled on me a lot. And whenever we had time together alone you had to leave early. I just wanted you to give me your love and attention. But I was never a priority. I miss you so much, Siri.” After he tucks me into his bed he kisses my forehead and responds,

“I miss you too, baby.” He goes to walk away but I grab his hand. Which makes him turn around and give me a questioning look,

“Please stay.” I pout. He smiles and climbs into the bed with me. I turn to look at him,

“Cuddles?” I ask him with puppy eyes.

“Cuddles.” I snuggle up next to him with my head on his chest and my legs bunched up with his. He puts his chin on top of my head and begins to play with my hair.

“You know, I still love you. And I’m willing to give you a second chance, Siri.” I can’t see him but I can tell he has a huge grin on his face.

“I love you too, pup. Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” I start to drift off but before I do fully I feel him kiss my forehead again and whisper ‘I love you’ one last time before the darkness engulfed me.

Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?

****

Taglist: @blackpinkdolan

If you want to be added to my taglist for this series message me or comment under the post.

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heliotropehotch · 4 years

Text

Wasteland, Baby - Hotch x fem!Reader

A/N: This is my first criminal minds fic I’m putting out! Im not really sure what this is but I was in need of more hotch fics i’m not gonna lie. tagging @writefasttalkevenfaster cause she let me ask her for ideas - also happy birthday Sabina!! This fic is kinda based on a mixture of wasteland, baby by hozier and separate ways by journey. Italics are flashbacks

Warnings: mentions of passed abusive relationship, kidnapping, torture, chained up, arguments, pining, cussing, mentions of sex

Words: 4134

Genre: Angst with fluffy ending

The bullpen of the BAU was quiet but bustling with the soft shuffling of papers and dull thuds of various coffee mugs meeting the hardwood desks. Aaron Hotchner slowly shuffled up the stairs to his office, sighing with the deeper aches of his body. His door shut behind him softly, feeling the weight of the long week catching up with him as his shoulders dropped. He looked over towards the clock on his desk before he trudged to his chair and sat down.

Strauss had sent over details of a new team member coming to join the BAU for the indefinite future, but Hotch had yet to look over the information before now. Whoever they were, they were expected to arrive at any minute now. He sighed once again, running a calloused palm over his face, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. A knock echoed through the room. “Come in,” his voice called out.

“Uh,” Dave began. “The new one’s here. Garcia’s smothering her with questions.” He chuckled.

Hotch gave a small smile. “Of course she is.”

He grabbed the file off of his desk as he made his way to the door of his office. I should at least know their name, he thought, opening the manila folder as he stepped out of the door.

- - New addition to Behavioral Analysis Unit: Y/N Y/L/N - -

His eyebrows furrowed before his eyes shot up to find the face he hadn’t seen in over a decade. In the flesh, there you were, smiling sweetly at Spencer as he prattled off facts about pathogens of hand shaking. Hotch felt the folder slide from his loose grip and land on the floor with scattered papers and the sharp sound of it hitting the floor.

Your ears caught the sound, causing you to look around just as his eyes had. Hotch was staring at you, his eyebrows still furrowed with what looked like concern, his mouth slightly agape.

You met his eyes, and gave a nervous and small grin, raising your hand up in a tentative wave.

“Aaron, I have to go,” you mumbled, stuffing your clothes into a suitcase. “Y/N, what are you talking about?” Hotch’s panicked voice rang out. He reached for your wrist. “Will you please just tell me what’s going on?” You yanked your hand away from his grasp, taking a hesitant step away.

“When were you going to tell me about Haley?” you asked softly, staring at your hands. His veins run cold. “Y/N-”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” You looked up at him with angry eyes. “Aaron, I know who she is to you. I know she’s all you’ve wanted since highschool. Was I even given a chance?”

“Y/N, I love you,” his shaky voice rang out as he took a step forward.

“Don’t do that,” you shook your head, taking another step back, tears well past the point of being held back. “Don’t say it back to me now. You love her more. You always will. I just wish you could’ve told me instead of-”

Your voice choked, “Instead of sleeping with her. That would’ve hurt a lot less.”

“Y/N, please don’t go.” His own face wet with tears. She continues packing her things, with more intention.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

He stared at her silently, thinking of words, any words that would make you stay. He knew what they were, but his mouth couldn’t get them out. You had stopped to look at him now, heart hurting as the room fell silent.

“Right,” you sighed, pulling the suitcase to your feet. “Go get her back Aaron, don’t lose her like you did me.”

The door to his apartment clicked closed behind you. His hands wiped away his stray tears.

“God, Hotchner. You’re such a fucking idiot,” as he picks up the photo of the both of you and throws it against the wall. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the space.

Hotch looked down at his now empty hands and moved to pick up the folder before heading down the steps. He tried to shake the initial shock of seeing you again off but his mind couldn’t help but think, this is gonna hurt like a goddamn bitch.

“Y/N,” his voice sounded more confident than he was. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” you spoke out, voice somewhat cold and disconnected. “I look forward to working with you.”

Garcia spoke up, eyeing the tension between the two of you. “Well, Hotch, I was about to come get you with a new case. It’s local.”

“Okay, just head to the briefing room. Agent Y/L/N and I will be there in a second.” Garcia mock saluted as the rest of the team headed up the stairs.

“Y/N-” Hotch began, but you didn’t give him a chance.

“Sir,” your bitter voice spoke. “Working under your command will not be an issue for me. If it is an issue for you, I understand.”

“Of course, it’s not,” his voice is soft. “I just think we should eventually have a conversation. I haven’t had a chance to look over your file-”

“You haven’t?” you looked at him with fear. “Sir, there are some things you will read, but it will in no way affect the way I work. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe we have a briefing.”

Hotch sighed, looking at the file in his hands. His brows scrunched up in confusion, before his natural frown took over his features. Whatever was in there could wait.

He straightened his back, pushing his shoulders back before quickly walking into the briefing room. “Garcia, what have we got?”

She clicks the remote, herself going a bit rigid at the images on screen. “Starting two weeks ago, six women have gone missing from the DC area. Local police have recovered at least 4 of the bodies in local bodies of water. The victims have large bruises and impressions around their wrists and ankles.”

“Like chains?” You spoke up. “How long between the time the first victim was kidnapped and her estimated time of death?”

“Five days,” Garcia’s sad voice answered. “And it’s been the same with the other bodies. The last victims reported missing were both taken 3 days ago.”

“So we have two days to work with local police before we can expect there to be two more bodies,” Hotch said, sighing at the time limit. “Everyone grab your stuff and we’ll head to the precinct.”

~~~~

The next day, all of their information gathering, all of their leads, all of their information came to a screeching halt when a woman, with bruises around her ankles and wrists stumbled into the precinct. Her dirt covered clothes and disheveled hair screamed for help as her weak knees fell to the ground.

Derek ran over to her and kneeled. “Someone get a medic over here!” he shouted.

Anna Sawyer, 32, a bartender at a local pub had freed herself from chains of the unsub. After walking for hours, she finally got the precinct where she could find someone, anyone to help her.

“Morgan and Reid are on their way to the hospital to get information about her captor and where she escaped from,” Hotch clicked his cellphone off.

“What about the other girl? Do we think she’s kept in a separate space?” Prentiss asked.

“Possibly,” you sighed, making notes on a notepad. “We can’t rule out anything until the boys get answers back.”

“In the meantime,” Hotch huffed out. “Everyone go get some food and meet back in an hour.”

“Y/N,” Emily grabbed your attention. “Wanna go grab a bite with me and JJ? I know a local place with good coffee and sandwiches.” She smiled

“Yeah sure that sounds good!” Grabbing her notepad and cellphone before giving Hotch a brief glance and a curt nod and following them out the door.

Hotch continued to stare, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and thinking back to the unread personnel file he had on his temporary desk. Dave moved into his line of sight, with a knowing smirk gracing his face.

“So you gonna tell me what that’s about?” Aaron huffed, moving towards the desk.

“I knew her in college,” he said, short and sweet. Dave rolled his eyes.

“And just how well did you know her in college?”

“We were together,” he sighed, gaining a shocked looked on Rossi’s face. “For about a year when Haley and I were on a break.”

“Aaron,” he called for eye contact. “You left her for Haley didn’t you?”

“It’s not like I was given a choice. She found out that I-” he cut himself off, clearing his throat as guilt flooded his veins. “She found out. And she left.”

“You didn’t go after her?”

“I couldn’t, Dave,” he sighed, shaking his head. “It was Haley. Everyone just expected me to marry her and I had to become someone I wasn’t.” He looked at the file on his desk.

“Y/N wasn’t like anyone else. She was good for me, I loved her with so much, but when I saw Haley after so long, I just fell back into the routine.”

Dave sighed, patting his shoulder. “Haley loved you, but you can love more than one person. It’s been almost 3 years since-”

“I know, Dave,” his fingers pressed into the bridge of his nose. “But I don’t know if I can handle losing her too. Although, it feels like I already have. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe you should start by seeing what she’s been up to for the last decade,” Dave pointed to the file. “And then you should talk to her.” Then he walked to the coffee machine.

Hotch let out a sharp exhale of air, sitting down. He stared at the file a few seconds more, before thumbing the folder open.

~~~~

At the cafe with Emily and JJ, you felt yourself relaxing into the friendships that were to come. You laughed at a joke Emily made about some of the more intense cops you were working with.

“Thank you guys,” you sighed, taking a sip of your coffee. “You’ve been so nice to me.”

“Of course, Y/N,” JJ smiled. “You’re a part of this team now.”

“Exactly,” Emily agreed. “I do have a question though.”

“Working with a bunch of profilers, I should’ve expected that,” you chuckled. “What do you wanna know?”

JJ and Emily shared a look. “How do you know Hotch?”

You cleared your throat. “We, uh, kinda dated in college,” you admitted with a scrunch of your face.

“Really? I thought he was only with Haley,” JJ commented, softly with bitter and sad tones. You cringed slightly, knowing of her passing.

“They were on a break for a while when we were still studying. But we didn’t last longer than maybe a year,” you smiled sadly. “Haley came back and I just didn’t want to compete with his highschool sweetheart. It would’ve been a lost battle.”

Emily smiled sadly. “You still love him don’t you.”

A cold chuckle escaped your mouth. “It’s impossible for me not to. I thought that I’d be fine, ya know working with him. But then he had to go at look at me with those stupid eyes.”

“Aaron!” Your voice laughed out, as his fingers dug into your sides. “Aar- stop!” you giggled out between breaths. Finally his relentless torture stopped, him chuckling at your wild hair and flushed cheeks.

He leaned down to kiss you, pulling his weight on you and pressing you into the couch. His face cradled your cheeks. He leaned back with a sweet grin, you still pinned underneath him. Your fingers reached up to brush some of his hair out of his face.

“I love you,” you smiled. His breath hitched, a brief amount of panic flickering in his chocolate eyes. Cradling his face, you continue, “You don’t have to say it back, I know you’re still-”

You sigh, searching his eyes. “I just had to let you know.”

You try to break eye contact, but his hand brings your eyes back. Without saying a word, he leans down to kiss you again, with more fire, and hands drifting down to your waist to pull you closer to him.

“You should talk to him,” JJ said, reaching for your hand and interrupting your recollection. “I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Haley included.”

“You’re sweet JJ,” patting her hand. “I just don’t know if I can do that again. We’ve both been through so much in the last ten years.”

A sad silence fell over the small table you had been seated at. “Sorry to be such a downer girls,” you chuckled, trying to alleviate the tension. “I’m gonna get another coffee.”

Standing in line you twiddled with your fingers, thinking about the words JJ had said. Aaron had been through so much, it wasn’t fair to want him again. But if he had been looking at you like that-

“Excuse me,” a gravelly voice spoke up from behind you. “Don’t turn around.” You felt the barrel of a gun pressed into the slope of your lower back.

“You’re going to come with me and get in my car,” he huffed into your ear.

“And if I don’t?” you questioned.

“Then I’m going to shoot the two women you came in with right here and right now between their pretty little eyes.

“Okay,” your voice shook. “Just don’t hurt them.”

~~~

Aaron leaned back against the desk chair he was seated at, hands covering his face. The guilt that trembled through his body now had new reasons. He would give anything to not be around these people right now. His skin crawled with remorse.

“Aaron?” Rossi called out in question. “What’s in that file?”

He quickly stood up and pressed the file to Dave’s chest, storming into the nearest room with a door. Rossi followed him, folder open, closing the door behind him. “He fucking hit her, Dave. Her choked her, he slapped her, he-”

Aaron was shaking now. “Hotch, you can’t blame yourself for this.”

“It was her ex!” he shouted. “The one before me! She went back to him because I couldn’t be who she needed and I couldn’t get past expectations well enough to tell her I loved her.”

“Aaron,” Dave spoke calmly. “This was years ago. He’s locked up, and she is as strong as ever. Have you seen the way she’s worked this case? It’s only been two days and she has the fire of any of us. She’s okay now.”

“If it wasn’t for me,” he breathed out, his hands trembling. “Then she wouldn’t have had to go through it in the first place.”

“There is absolutely nothing we can do about that now, Hotch,” his voice tried to sooth, but was interrupted by a phone call.

“Yeah Prentiss,” he said. Aaron watched as his back straightened, shoulders tensing. “For how long?”

“Right,” his eyes, full of sorrow, reached Aaron’s. “I’ll tell him. Get back to the precinct as soon as you can.” Then he ended the phone call.

“Dave?” Aaron’s worried voice rang out. “Tell me what Dave?”

“Aaron,” he sighed, looking down at his hands. “She’s gone, Aaron.”

Hotch stumbled back, all air leaving his body. “He took Y/N.”

~~~~

“Alright what do we know?” Hotch asked sternly, walking into the conference room with the rest of the team. “How did he take her?”

“We were just talking about-” JJ coughed, interrupting Emily. “Things…. And she said she was going to get another cup of coffee. We didn’t see her for a while, so JJ and I started looking around the cafe when we saw her outside being forced into a dark van. By the time we got outside she was gone. I’m sorry, Hotch-”

“Reid, what did you get from Anna?” Hotch moved on, voice angry. Worried looks darted across the room.

“It was a similar case, Anna was talking to her friends about trying to get over a guy who liked someone else, on her break and went to get a round of drinks,” he said. “When about 30 minutes went by and she hadn’t come back, her friends assumed she just went home. They didn’t realize she was missing until the next day. Anna said she remembers him holding a gun to her back and saying he would kill her friends if she didn’t go with him.”

“Wait,” JJ stopped. “I think I know how he’s choosing his victims. We need to contact all of the victim’s friends again and find out what they were talking about the night they went missing.”

She looked at the group with a sad, but nervous look. “They were all talking about men they were in love with but couldn’t have.” Hotch coughed as he choked on air.

“Did Anna remember anything about where she was kept?” Hotch rushed out, urgency taking over.

“She remembers that she was underground for the most part,” Morgan answered. “When we tried to get her to remember details, she remembers hearing the sounds of cars going over a bridge over water.”

Emily called Garcia, putting her on speaker. “Garcia, we need you to cross-reference any receipts from the places the victims were last seen. Run any names you find against property with basements near water bridges. Get back to us when you have something.”

“You got it, my goddess divine,” She ended the call.

“Hotch-” JJ started, but he was already sauntering out of the room. The team looked at each other. “What are we gonna do if we can’t-”

“Then we just have to figure out how to,” Rossi said.

In the file room down the hall, Hotch was having trouble breathing. He clutched at his tie, ripping it off his neck. Fuck.

~~~~~

“Pet, I don’t know why you’re fighting me so much,” the man taunted as you struggled against the chain and shackles.

“Maybe because you fucking kidnapped me,” you huffed. He clicked his tongue.

“Wouldn’t you much rather be with me than a man who doesn’t love you?” He said, hand wrapping around your throat. “Isn’t this better than nothing?”

“Isn’t this better than nothing?” Lucas, your ex said, handing you an ice pack for the bruise blooming across your face. “At least, I love you. I picked you off the floor of your house after he broke your heart.” He wrapped his hand around your throat, your heart rate pulsing. “You could at least say thank you.”

“Thank you, Lucas,” your voice shook.

“You’re welcome, babydoll,” he said smugly. “Now go to our room, I need to get off.”

“Nothing is better than being with you,” you spit into his face. He chuckled darkly, wiping his face.

“Little bitch,” he muttered, before punching you in the stomach. “I’ll make you wish you had nothing.”

He walked over to a table nearby, picking up a long blade. You strained against the wall, trying to get away from him. “Normally, I’d wait a couple of days before starting with you. But your time’s a little short,” he chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind scars, my pet. I’ll start small.” He winked.

The tip of the blade dragged across your chest, stinging with red marks as blood began to surface, before disappearing behind the buttons of your blouse. Your breathing picked up, causing him to chuckle again. “Don’t worry my pet, we’re not there yet.”

“You motherfucker,” you hissed. “Is that what does it for you? Getting off with girls who would never even look your way?”

His face became angry. “You women are stuck loving someone who could never love you back,” he hissed. “No one could ever love you back. I’m just here to end your misery.” He smiled wickedly, cutting deeping into your side of your stomach.

“I get to mark you up with these, with my hands, making the pain stay with you,” he said, tracing your arm with the blade, a long angry line blossoming. “And then when I’m tired of you, I get to watch you die with your last vision being me.” He set down the blade, grabbing a set of brass knuckles. “I’ll make you feel this for weeks, my pet,” he taunted, before landing a hit on your jaw. “Not like you’ll live that long anyways.”

“The pain I give you will be the only thing you think about until I get to kill you,” his fist landing on your stomach again making it hard to breath. Your vision became spotty and you found it hard to stay awake.

“Aww poor thing. Too much to handle already?” he teased, holding your lolled head up to look him in the eyes. “Good thing I’m killing you soon, cause nobody’s gonna love you after this.”

A loud crash came from upstairs. He dropped his grasp on your now sore jaw. “What the fuck,” he said, climbing up the steps.

“Thomas Wayne! Come out with your hands up!” You heard Hotch’s voice echo from upstairs. You smiled to yourself.

Aaron aimed the gun right at the head of the unsub, anger and fear vibrated through his body, his skin on fire. Even with the man’s hands in the air, he adjusted his grip, finger tensed to stop himself from shooting him anyways.

“Aaron,” Rossi grabbed his attention, causing him to turn his head to make eye contact. “Go find her. I’ve got him.”

He quickly dropped his aim and holstered his gun before moving towards the basement door. Thundering of rushed feet resonated through the walls of the dark rooms. “Y/N!” he called out.

“Aaron,” you scratched out, barely audible to his ears. Quickly, he found you, rushing over to get the shackles off your wrists and ankles. You collapsed against his chest, huffing out a sob. His arms held you tightly, trying to avoid any visible wounds. You gasped, pain shooting through your ribs, but that didn’t matter to you right now. You focused on the hands soothing your back.

“Hey, shh,” he cooed. “It’s okay, Y/N, I’ve got you.” His own tears flowing over his face.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” you choked out. “I thought he was gonna-”

“I’m never gonna desert you, honey,” he pressed his face into your neck. “I’m so sorry. But he’s gone, okay? I’ve got you. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Aaron,” you started, knowing he knew.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter,” he moved your hair out of your face. “It doesn’t matter cause I’ve got you.”

~~~~

Soon after, you were moved to a hospital to get treated for the cuts and cracked ribs you suffered. Aaron hadn’t left your side the whole time, causing some issues for hospital staff but he really didn’t give to shits. Now as you slept, system full of pain meds, he sat resting his arms next to you, one hand tangled with yours.

Slowly you woke up, looking around the room before your eyes landed on his. You released your hand from his and rested it on his head, combing through his hair like you used to in college. The sensations startled him into sitting up.

“You’re awake,” he smiled, grabbing your hand again.

“You’re still here,” you replied, only kind of surprised.

“I told you, Y/N,” he said, sitting on your bed. “I’m not leaving you again.”

“Aaron-” you started, squeezing his hand.

“I love you,” he rushed out, your eyes widening at his confession. “I always have. I lost you once before because I didn’t know how to say it to someone who needed so much more than I could offer. Reading your file-” his voice choked up.

“So I’m not leaving again. And I’m not letting you leave again. Cause no matter how long I have you, no matter how long my love for you lasts, I’m gonna make sure I don’t fuck it up like I have before. You’re never going to have to go through anything without me by your side. Letting you walk out that door was my biggest mistake, and I’ve regretted not doing something for 10 years. And I’ll live everyday trying to make sure you never feel that way again.”

You sniffled, letting your heart open for the first time in years. Your knuckles were white from gripping his hand. “Aaron, I love you,” you laughed through your tears. His lips met yours slowly, giving you time and space to be comfortable against your healing injuries. His forehead rested against yours, smiles filled both of your faces.

And suddenly, the end of the world didn’t seem as scary with him by your side.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #angsty #angst #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #thomas gibson #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #derek morgan #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner x you #david rossi #aaron hotchner slow burn

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jacaerysvelaryonsss · 4 years

Text

three am - kirby dach

requested: yes/no

a/n: yes hello i finally sat down and wrote something, also as i was writing i realized i ended up changing the request a bit, so i apologize for that. this is my first fic too soooo, i do be really nervous to post this tho LOL, it’s not too long, but it’s still a lil something. a HUGE shoutout to @perpetually-anxious for proofreading and helping me edit this too, thank you so much. anyways, enjoy :)

word count: 1.2k

pairing: kirby dach x reader

warnings: takes place in & talks about the pandemic

tagging: @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @nolpatts @jdrysdales

When Kirby injured his wrist at the world juniors, he was devastated, and so were you. He was so excited to have been named captain, and yet it all came crashing down before the tournament had even started. Learning he would most likely be out for the season was just as terrible, at least for him. And yes, you knew it was probably selfish, but you liked knowing he was at home and safe from the infectious disease currently running rampant around the world. With cases of covid skyrocketing, you didn’t want anything else to happen to him. So, you being the protective person you are, basically locked him in the house with you. Neither of you left the house unless it was to get groceries, or go for a drive because you couldn’t stand being in the house anymore.

And honestly, everything was going pretty great. Although it was extremely stressful, you were thankfully still able to keep up with your schoolwork. The stress of exams was even worse now, but you were able to get through it and now taking extra advantage of the three week break you have before the start of your second term.

As much as you loved having Kirby home, there were times where it could get a bit annoying; and this was one of them. You were laying in bed, catching up on sleep... or at least trying to. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep and managed to stay that way for a couple of hours. That is, until all of a sudden, you felt someone poking you.

“Hey, (Y/N). Wake up.” You hear as you begin to gain consciousness, opening your eyes you look at the clock on your bedside table and see the time reads 2:47 in the morning. With a sigh, you close your eyes agin. “Kirby, it’s almost 3 in the morning, go to bed.”

“But I can’t sleep, and I’m bored.” He whines while continuing to poke you, “Please babe, I promise to let you sleep in as long as you want in the morning, if you wake up now.”

With another sigh, you finally open your eyes and turn around to face him, “Okay fine. I’m awake now.” Smiling down at you, he kisses your forehead and then proceeds to get up. “Perfect, now let’s go on a little adventure!”

“Babe, it’s 3 in the morning and I literally just woke up less than 5 minutes ago, do you really expect me to jump out of bed to go with you?” You ask, while looking at him in disbelief, “I would also like to point out we’re in the middle of a pandemic and you have a broken wrist, so what exactly are we going to do?”

“We’re just gonna go on a walk to the corner store to pick up some stuff, and then we’ll come back here. It’s nothing too big.” He replies while walking out of the bedroom, “I’ll be waiting for you in the living room!”

With a long groan, you force yourself out of bed to get changed into something more suitable for the store. After you’ve finally changed, you grab your mask and keys off the bedside table and walk out to the living room to join your boyfriend. “Alright, I’m ready to venture off into the freezing cold with you, to go pick up who knows what at the store.”

Laughing, he gets up from the couch to grab your coat and gives it to you, “Thank you baby, I appreciate it.” You both put on your coats and then make your way out into the cold Chicago air and begin your walk to the store.

After a short freezing cold walk, which you’re surprised you didn’t get frostbite on, you arrive at the store and right away Kirby is rushing around picking up various different items. Mostly picking up chocolate and candy, but also pancake mix. Meanwhile, you’re just following him around in confusion, wondering why he needed to do this now, at some ungodly hour of the morning, when the both of you could be lying comfortably in bed and at the very least, trying to sleep. After what seems like forever, but in reality is just five minutes, he’s done with his little shopping spree and after he’s paid for everything, you guys finally head back home.

Walking back into your apartment, you both take your coats and masks off and then take turns washing your hands. Once you put your things away, you turn around and see your boyfriend getting various items down from the cabinets. Smiling to yourself, you finally realized why you ended up going to the store so late.

“Why do I have a feeling you had a sudden craving for pancakes, and that’s why we ended up going on our little adventure so late?” You ask as you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your forehead on his back.

He turns around and wraps his arms around you as he answers, “Yeah, you’re right... You gonna help me make them?” Looking up at him, you give him your biggest smile, “Well, considering the fact that you only have one good hand, of course I am.”

You guys get to work making them. With the lights being kept off, the only light illuminating the room were the streetlights outside and the faint glow from the fridge that was being kept open. Thankfully managing not to make too much of a mess, the pancakes were made and you guys decided to sit on the floor as you ate them.

All of a sudden, Kirby gets up, picking up all the plates to put them in the sink, and then turning around, he extends his hand to help you up and pulls you into his arms. He looks down at you and smiles, “I love you, so much.” He whispers into your ear. Looking up and smiling back up at him, “I love you too.”

In the minimal lighting around you, you both sway back and forth, your head resting on his chest. It’s quiet between you guys for a moment, until your boyfriend decided to speak up again, “I just want to say thank you, for everything. I know it’s hard doing online school and being stuck in the house, and I know I haven’t exactly been the most calm person to be with right now, but you still have done everything you can to help me out and I appreciate it, so much.”

Smiling to yourself, you look back up at him, “Of course, I’m not just gonna leave you hanging. And I don’t care how much you may annoy me sometimes, I’d rather you be safe and at home with me, especially since I can make sure you won’t do anything that could injure you more.” He smiles back and kisses you softly, and then suddenly he’s twirling you around and you guys are bursting out in joyful laughter.

You two dance around the kitchen, the fridge still open and illuminating your little dance floor, giving each other soft kisses and whispers of affection, you decide that you can catch up on your sleep later, and decide to dance around until the sun starts to rise.

And as you’re laughing and dancing, you realize nothing else matters, except for the man in front of you.

#kirby dach #kirby dach imagine #kirby dach x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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orange-waterfalls · 4 years

Text

...Happy New Year?

Darkiplier x gn!reader x Wilford

A/N: I am so disappointed and surprised that I haven’t written anything poly yet are you KIDDING ME. Does it take me 5 months to write a single fic? No. Might take me that long to find motivation and SINCE I don’t wanna be an ASSHOLE who takes requests and then DOESN’T WRITE THEM I’m probably gonna take a bit to think and figure out what I wanna do here with the blog. Uhhh reader is a retail worker who’s just. Tired and stressed. Dark and Wil decide to comfort them because good boyfriends are good! TW: mention of weed. And suggestive phrases? Also cursing. That’s it. Rated T. Enjoy and have a happy New Year everybody!

Word Count: 2.7k

“Do you have to?” Wilford all but whined when you got ready for work. Except he did not whine because he does not whine because he is Wilford Warfstache, thank you. “It’s New Year’s Eve!”

“I’m fully aware what day it is, hon,” You said in a very soft voice because you knew Wilford had to be let down gently or he’d be grouchy for the next few months. “That’s why I’m not working overtime. Hopefully. Maybe I can get Sara to take over my shift, she’s not doing anything tonight. I wish I could’ve taken the morning shift, I do.” Darkiplier appeared next to Wilford, looking just as desperate.

“Can you not just… not… go?” Dark suggested, trying not to sound too needy. He knew that he failed by the look you gave him.

“I have to work, boys.”

“Do you though?”

“Wilford...”

“I can get you money.”

“Are you suggesting illegal activities, Mr. Warfstache?”

“We are not… besides stealing.”

“Wil.”

“We could pawn off Mark’s stuff, it’s probably worth a lot!”

“Both of you, stop it!” You said in a stern voice. They both looked like kicked puppies and you felt a little bad about it. “I’ll get home when I get home. You know I love you. If I never had to leave you, I wouldn’t. But I gotta, ok?”

“Kissies?” Wilford asked, tapping the tips of his fingers together. Darkiplier looked at the motion and back at his own fingers, seemingly trying to replicate it. You stared at his hands for a moment, watching the struggle with a resigned sort of curiosity. Wilford also stared at them until he couldn’t take it anymore and just put his hands over Dark’s.

“Just-Just… stop.” He said gently. Dark lowered his hands and they both looked back to you. You shook your head.

“I’ll be back before midnight. Order some takeout, please.”

“Sure thing, boss!” Wilford saluted.

“Goodbye, darling.” Darkiplier gave a little bow. You smiled warmly, walking over to the two. Darkiplier turned his head and you kissed his cheek. You tried to do the same for Wilford, but he turned his head back at the last second to catch your lips in a kiss. Additionally, he grabbed your face to keep you there. You pulled away and gently smacked his cheek before heading back to the door. Darkiplier glared at him a little. He stuck his tongue out in response.

“Bye! Love you!”

“We love you too, babes!” Wil called, wrapping his arms around Dark’s neck and leaning against him. Dark waved a goodbye to you. You shut and locked the door behind you.

“Wil?” Dark said after they stood like that for a while.

“Yep?” Wil responded with his cheek squished to Dark’s shoulder.

“If you’re gonna cling to me we could at least lay down.”

“Cuddle time?”

“Sure. Cuddle time. Come on.” Dark tried to walk to the three’s shared bedroom, but Wilford wouldn’t let go. He quirked an eyebrow at the reporter. “Wil?”

“Yes?”

“May you… let go?”

“No.”

“Wil.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Wil…”

“No.”

“We can’t cuddle if you don’t let go.”

“Lies. Deception.”

“Wil, please, work with me here.” They looked at each other. Wilford slowly removed his arms from around the other man’s neck. Dark caught one of his hands, bringing his palm to his lips and gently kissing his hand.

“Someone’s feeling affectionate!” Wil exclaimed. Dark intertwined their fingers and gave his hand a squeeze before finally walking to the room.

The bedroom had mostly shades of black, white, and blue decor, apart from the fluffy red pillows you just had to have, along with a few stuffed animals. Darkiplier had his office with his red and black velvet and Wilford had his own… wherever he hung out, so they didn’t mind you choosing the colors. Anything to stop Wilford from painting the walls yellow of all colors.

Wilford turned around and pulled Dark in by his waist, swaying in a little dance.

“What are you doing?” Dark tried and failed to conceal his smile and laugh.

“Dancing with my lover, what does it look like?” Wilford nuzzled their noses together.

“I thought you wanted to cuddle.”

“I do.”

“Then why are we dancing?”

“Can’t we just dance for a bit?” Darkiplier pulled back and looked at Wil, who was currently avoiding eye contact. He sighed.

“Feels a little weird without Y/N?” He asked. Wilford hummed, still not looking him in the eye. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to.”

“We can wait until they get home, it’s really not--”

“I do want to…”

“But?”

“Mm…”

“Want to prove you aren’t absolutely whipped?”

“Excuse you?!”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“I am-- You-- Wilford Warfstache simps for NOBODY!”

“Says Mr. Hundred Dollar Pillows.”

“Listen here you son of a bitch--” Wilford backed away and held up a finger to explain exactly why he was no simp. Dark took the opportunity to push him onto the bed. “Ooh! Frisky!”

“Shut it.” He climbed into the bed next to him. Wilford draped himself across Dark’s chest, nuzzling into him. They sighed contentedly.

“Dark?”

“Mm?”

“What did I do to deserve you two?”

“Me? You were nice and accepting. I still don’t believe either of us deserve Y/N.”

“Oh, come on, there has to be something.”

“Wil, both of us have killed multiple people. I think whatever good we’ve done will get canceled out.”

“...right.”

They lay like that for a bit, enjoying just being there. Suddenly, Wilford picked his head up.

“What’s happening? You have a look? What is that look?” Dark furrowed his eyebrows.

“I have the best idea!” Wilford jumped up and ran to the closet.

“What?” Dark sat up.

“We are surprising our lover with romance!” He threw Dark’s suit at him, picking out his own at the same time.

“...and suits?”

“Yes! Well, your suit. It makes you look sexy.”

“Wil.”

“Their words, not mine!”

“Why are we--”

“It’s New Year’s, Dark! They’re stressed! They’re tired! They deserve a surprise! Where the Devil are my suspenders?”

“Wil, I don’t think--”

“That’s right, Dark. You don’t think. You can just sit there and look pretty while Wilford Lovemaster Warfstache plans it out!”

“Lovemaster?”

“I was due for a new middle name anyways. Chop chop!”

Dark hesitantly put on his suit while Wilford looked for his suspenders. He looked in the mirror, deciding whether he looked… “sexier” with or without a tie. He eventually decided without, even popping a few buttons of his dress shirt. Wilford walked back in, wearing a hot pink button up, yellow suspenders, and a blue bowtie.

“...hot!” He said before walking up next to Dark and taking a selfie of the two. Dark looked over his shoulder and watched him send it to you with the caption ‘your two special boys!’. He caught a look at some previous messages.

“Wil, what’s poggers?”

“New-fangled lingo, don’t worry about it. Do we have roses? Ask Illinois to bring us roses.”

“Wil, what is happening.”

“ROMANCE!” He yelled, exasperated. “Romance is happening, Dark.”

“Romance… right.”

“And suits, precisely. Come on, order Chinese from that place they like.”

“...is this a good idea? Suits and chinese?”

“It’s a fantastic idea, now order the goddamn food.”

Darkiplier and Wilford sat on the couch in your apartment, reading a book they’d found. Wil was leaning on Dark’s shoulder with one leg draped over his. There was a little time until New Year’s, and they really wanted to spend it with you. Dark would never admit it, but he missed you. Quite a lot, actually. You’ve weaseled your way into his heart and now he’s a little dependent. Wil would proudly scream it to the world if he could. Dark would never let him.

Dark glanced up at the clock, seeing the 11:00 time. He scowled, closing the book and tossing it to the other side of the couch. He leaned his head back and sighed. He debated calling you with Wilford beforehand, maybe even just to hear your voice on the voicemail, but he was sure that would be too needy of him. He has a reputation to uphold, thank you very much.

“Miss your other lover, Darkipoo?” Wilfor teased.

“Obviously. I’m used to two heat sources, not one.”

“Oh, am I not good enough for Mr. Darkiplier?”

“I never said that.”

“You were thinkin’ it.”

“You can’t read minds, Wil, stick to your interviews.” He said in a faux-mocking manner. They smiled at each other.

Dark shot up from the couch the moment he heard your key in the lock. He adjusted his suit, squared his shoulders, and cleared his throat. He couldn’t help a smile as he held a white rose, Wilford doing the same as he held a pink one.

So, of course, they jumped a little when you slammed the door behind you.

“Uh. Darling? Are you--”

“I fucking hate EVERYTHING!” You yelled. Dark blinked. He glanced at WIlford, who looked just as surprised. You paced around the living room, looking like you were about to commit murder. He shuffled closer to Wilford, and leaned in.

“Wil, what are we supposed to do?” He whispered.

“Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.” Wilford said in a voice that told Dark he was quoting something.

“Wil, I don’t know what the fuck that is.”

“It-It’s a meme-Do you just not go on the internet? Ever? Nevermind, just follow my lead.” He grabbed the roses, putting them in a nearby cup of water. He walked over to where you were and gently grabbed your shoulders. “Here, darling, sit, tell us about it.”

He led you to the couch and sat you down, sitting next to you. He snapped his fingers at Dark, pointing to your shoulders. Dark hesitantly walked over and started to massage your shoulders. You sighed a little, relaxing. Wil nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

“There were so many assholes today, man.”

“Mm-hm. Tell Wilford about it.”

“There was this guy who kept asking where this one thing that we didn’t have was, this lady kept insisting her coupons were not expired, don’t even get me started on Jared and Melissa.”

“Who are Jared and Melissa?” Dark asked.

“Oh, FUCK Jared and Melissa!” You suddenly got to your feet again and started pacing again.

“Y-Yeah, fuck Jared and Melissa!” Wil agreed. “Who are Jared and Melissa?”

“Hell if I know, just go with it, I’ll get the takeout.” Dark patted him on the back.

“Angel wasn’t even there to talk to today, God, I miss them so much already.”

“Angel is the coworker who…”

“Oh, they have the cats, Socks and Mittens.”

“Oh, so Angie--”

“Angie is Angelo, and he smokes weed in the back. He’s cool too. He was too high to fucking function today, though.”

“So, uh, where was Angel?” Wil looked back into the kitchen and saw Dark loading up their plates with the food. Wil suddenly remembered that he was wearing a pink shirt. He didn’t know whether the stains would be prominent and he did not intend to find out. He snuck away into the bedroom to change. Suits were a bad idea, he should’ve listened to Dark.

He changed into a T-shirt with the design of a suit and some grey sweatpants and somehow made his way back to the living room before you’d finished your first sentence. You noticed this, because you stared at his change of clothes.

“...weren’t you wearing a suit? Like an actual one?”

“No.”

“But-”

“I wasn’t.”

“You sent me a picture.”

“The, uh… suits were… part of a different… situation…” He said, not knowing what the fuck he was actually saying to you. You seemed to get something from it because you said:

“Ah. I see.” Before going back to your rant. Wil looked at Dark as he walked into the living room. He wasn’t wearing the suit jacket, only the black dress shirt. He also had black pants instead of the white ones.

Wilford nodded and whispered “Good choice.” Dark nodded and whispered “I told you so.”, so Wilford flipped him off. Dark sat the plates down while Wil pushed you down by your shoulders. You buried your face in your hands and groaned. Wil rubbed a hand up and down your back while Darkiplier poured drinks. You rubbed your face before leaning back and letting them drop. You looked down at the food. Then at Wilford. Then at Dark.

“Am I… missing something?” You said in a small voice.

“Hm?” Wil tilted his head at you.

“I feel like something was supposed to happen. Did I ruin your plans?” You frowned, starting to feel guilty.

“No, no, darling, you couldn’t ruin anything.” Wilford shifted closer to you and put his arm around your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arm.

“You sure? It feels like something I could do…”

“You could never because anything involving you is perfect.” Dark whispered after he gently took your chin in his hand and turned you towards him.

“Booooooo.” Wil called.

“Wha?”

“That was so cheesy, Dark.” You smiled.

“So sappy. Disgusting.” Wil agreed.

“Shameful.” You both shook your heads.

“Both of you can fuck off.” Dark huffed and crossed his arms. You kissed him, gently holding his face in your hands, making him smirk.

“Hey! How come the edgy one gets a kiss kiss!”

“You tricked me this morning, no kiss kiss for you!”

“Dark! Tell them!”

“You heard them, no kiss kiss.”

“Wh-”

“Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t we eat and watch shitty rom coms!”

“Don’t you wanna watch the clock?” Dark asked.

“Not particularly…” You looked down and the smile left your face. Wilford and Dark gave each other a look before they each took one of your hands and squeezed them.

“Ok. We can do that.”

The three of you laid in bed, you and Wilford cuddling into either side of Dark. Countdown forgotten, already passed a while ago. Dark still had his dress shirt and you were still wearing your work clothes. Dark stared at the ceiling, focusing on the sounds around his.

The fireworks outside.

The clock ticking rhythmically.

The soft and constant breathing from his two favorite people.

He took a deep breath and tried his best to push down all the bad and intrusive thoughts.

What if I hurt them? What if they decide I’m not good enough? What if I’m not good enough?

No. No ‘what if’s. That doesn’t matter. What matters is they love him and he loves them.

He looked down at you, your soft face squished into his arm, and he smiled at the warmth that bloomed throughout his chest. He looked over at Wilford and sucked in a breath when he found him staring at Dark.

“...can’t sleep?” Wilford said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

“No, I just…” He took a deep breath. “I just…”

“Wha happened?” You slurred, waking up. Dark flinched.

“Both of you should go back to sleep.”

“Why’re you awake then?” Wilford challenged.

“I was just… thinking.”

“About?” You yawned.

“About… how much I… love you two.” Both you and Wilford froze and Dark’s breathing sped up, scared he’d done something wrong.

“Awww, he wuvs us!” Wil giggled.

“How much do you wuv us, Dark?” You crossed your arms on his chest, resting your cheek against them and looking at Dark.

“...a lot.” He monotoned, staring at the ceiling.

“Do you wuv us soooo much?” Wilford batted his eyelashes.

“I’m starting to love you less and less.” Dark growled.

“Awwww he does!” You laughed

“Go. Back. To. Sleep. Please.” Darkiplier begged because Darkiplier does apparently beg, who would’ve thought.

“Yessir…” you said, another yawn taking over the word. You got back into your previous position, your arms gripping his and pressed into his side. Wilford took a similar one, just a little further up. You fell back asleep after a little bit, but the other two stayed awake.

“Happy you have both of your heatsources back?” Wilford whispered, a smile evident in his voice. Dark sighed, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of both his loves holding onto him like a lifeline. A ghost of a smile crossed his face.

“Yes. I am.”

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alienheartattack · 4 years

Text

Sweet Revenge (Inexorable AU)

Word Count: 2260 words

Rating: E. They fuck. It’s dope. Don’t read if you’re underage or have objections to explicit adult content.

Summary: Levi and Mikasa have a feud at the school bake sale and decide to get revenge on their PTA nemesis.

Notes: For non-US readers, PTA stands for parent-teacher association, where parents volunteer at their children’s schools to get involved in the school’s activities and influence the quality of their child’s education, usually through fundraisers and other events.

This story takes place 8-9 years after the events of Inexorable and about 2 years after the events of the other Inexorable AU fics, A Scream in the Night and A Minor Dispute About Rain. The only thing you really need to know if you haven’t read those is that Levi and Mikasa have a daughter named Anya, who is basically a grumpy mini Levi, in addition to Hana.

The only thing keeping Levi from running after the PTA president and giving her a hefty piece of his mind is Mikasa’s grip, firm and insistent, on the hem of his sweater.

“You’re going to stretch it out,” Levi snaps at his wife, redirecting his ire at the closest target. Mikasa idly caresses the swell of her belly with one hand and looks at him with one eyebrow raised, silently asking if he wants to argue with his pregnant wife in public.

“I’ll let you go when I’m confident you’re not going to track Joanne down and scream in her face,” she says calmly. “As much as I’d like to see that.”

“She fucking begged us to help out at this bake sale and now she’s just gonna call our lemon bars basic?! We’re not goddamn pastry chefs!”

“Levi, listen to yourself. You sound legitimately insane.”

He sighs, letting his shoulders drop as the tension and rage starts to leave his body. Mikasa releases his sweater and he collapses into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. She joins him, gingerly lowering herself onto the uncomfortable metal folding chair provided by the school.

“I hate this so much. I hate Joanne, I hate being on the PTA, and I absolutely fucking hate bake sales,” he huffs.

"Well, we’re stuck here for the evening. I don’t want to be here either but I’m trying to make the most of it. Mikasa picks up a lemon bar and takes a huge bite. "Besides, fuck Joanne. These are good.”

Levi motions for Mikasa to give him a bite. “Fuck Joanne,” he agrees through a mouthful of pastry and curd.

Thankfully business picks up after that, and Levi and Mikasa spend the next half hour handing out lemon bars to parents and kids, ignoring Joanne hovering around them and observing their dealings with a disdainful eye. When the rush clears, she slowly approaches their table, pretending to be browsing. They both clock her gaze drifting over their mostly empty dish of lemon bars and the small twitch at the corner of her mouth that telegraphs her dissatisfaction with the Ackermans’ success. Triumphant, they share a brief glance, another silent Fuck Joanne.

To their dismay, she approaches Mikasa, staring at her oversized t-shirt dress. “Bun in the oven,” Joanne reads, her cold eyes sweeping over the looped script printed across Mikasa’s abdomen, decorated with a drawing of a smiling roll baking away. “Oh, you’re pregnant, sweetie! Congratulations!” There’s sweetness in her voice, but it’s tinged with venom. Mikasa knows it all too well.

“Thanks,” she mutters, bracing herself for the backhanded part of Joanne’s compliment.

“I thought you’d just let yourself go, but it’s a blessing instead! What a relief!” She laughs uproariously at her own joke. Levi jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans, balling them into tight fists so Joanne can’t see how enraged he is. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Mikasa does not answer, instead focusing her energy on keeping a straight face while she contemplates murder. Levi can sense her tensing up, her shoulders stiffening, fury radiating from her body in waves.

“It’s a boy,” he cuts in curtly. “We’ve already got our two girls.”

“Your oldest isn’t—” Joanne’s voice drops to a near-whisper— “yours, though, is she?”

Levi narrows his eyes, no longer interested in hiding his annoyance. “She’s mine. I’ve helped raise her since she was a baby.”

“Oh, how sweet. What a modern family,” she gushes, cooing with an edge of condescension in her voice. “Well, congratulations.” She then turns and walks off, conveniently waving to someone across the room.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks Mikasa in a low voice once Joanne is out of earshot. Mikasa stares after her, eyes black with rage, her breath hissing through clenched teeth. She doesn’t need to say anything; he already knows the answer is no.

He places a reassuring hand on the back of her neck, massaging her nape the way she does to him when he’s stressed and ranting. “Tell you what, I’ll go out to the car and grab something sharp, we slice Joanne’s Achilles tendons and then get the hell out of here.”

“What? No!” She looks over at him, her expression disgusted and exasperated. “You have to stop watching gore movies with Hana. She’s barely ten.”

“She loves them! We were watching some zombie bullshit the other day and that little monster laughed while watching a guy get his guts ripped out and eaten. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna grow up to be a serial killer.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “Well, if she is, she gets it from Eren’s side of the family.” Even though he’s still angry on his wife’s behalf, Levi can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Fucking Joanne,” he grumbles. “If zombies ate her guts they’d spit them back out. Her kid’s an asshole, too.” Mikasa is well aware of that fact: Joanne’s son tried bullying Anya at the beginning of the school year, calling her a midget and pulling her hair until she had enough and whacked him in the face with her math textbook. That was Levi and Mikasa’s first run-in with Joanne before they joined the PTA, and things have only gone downhill since.

A few more kids approach the table, hesitant due to Levi’s scowl; Mikasa shutters her anger behind a calm facade and handles the sales, though she doesn’t say much.

When the latest wave of customers leaves, she turns to her husband. “I think I have an idea to make both of us feel better.”

A look of skepticism crosses his face. “Really? I was kinda hoping for that severed Achilles tendon.”

Mikasa facepalms; she’s had years to grow accustomed to her husband’s awkwardness and his awful jokes, but sometimes he still manages to surprise her. Ironically it only makes her love him more, this odd, cranky man who might literally kill for her.

“Joanne parked next to us, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, remember? I said her car looks like the physical embodiment of vaginal dryness and you laughed so hard you peed a little.”

“You really didn’t have to mention that last part.”

“I dunno, it gives the story flavor. Pee flavor.”

“Look, I have an idea. Get someone to take the rest of the lemon bars, then meet me in the parking lot. If anyone asks, I’m not feeling well and you need to take me home.”

Levi sighs. “What are you planning?”

Mikasa leans in close to him, her lips millimeters from his ear. “Meet me outside and you’ll see,” she purrs.

Five minutes later he bursts through the metal doors at the back of the school to see her sitting on the hood of Joanne’s car, an aggressively beige sedan.

“Come here,” she beckons him. He approaches her and, when he is within reach, she grabs his shirt and pulls him to her. Their lips collide awkwardly before settling into the familiar rhythm of their kissing, slow and deep.

After a few moments, he pulls away. “What is going on here?”

“Revenge,” she says. “I want you to fuck me on the hood of Joanne’s car.”

He ponders the suggestion for a moment, then smiles — and then a giggle escapes his mouth, a sound somewhere between bewilderment and glee, then another, then another.

“Aw, come on, don’t laugh. I thought it’d be fun.” She frowns, embarrassment heating and coloring her cheeks.

“No, no,” he says once he’s able to control his laughter. “I fucking love it.” He kisses her fiercely, growling deep in his throat. “I fucking love you.” Mikasa smiles, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. There’s some maneuvering involved in getting her underwear off, her round belly making the whole process somewhat unwieldy; Levi stuffs them in his pocket then gets down on the concrete, kneeling before her.

“Are you serious?” she squeals, trying to look at him over the curve of her stomach.

“If anyone asks, tell them you went into labor and I’m checking how far along you are.” With a low laugh he gets to work, nuzzling her pussy before licking a firm stroke along her seam. Mikasa bites her lip and lets out a shaky anticipatory breath in the brief moment before Levi lavishes attention on her clit, massaging it with his lips and tongue. She gasps when he pulls away from her a few minutes later, halfway to orgasm and disappointed not to get there.

“We need to be fast,” he says in lieu of an apology, undoing his pants and pulling out his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times in his fist. “I’ll finish you off at home.”

“You’d better,” she replies, a playful threat.

Levi settles himself between her legs then enters her with no warning or fanfare save the soft moan they both make, a low noise of contentment, of wholeness. They have always been a fearsome team, first as colleagues, then lovers, now spouses and parents, and their lovemaking is no different, each of them able to discern angles and positions from sighs, from grunts, from the furrow of a brow or the touch of a hand. Tonight Mikasa slides her hands down Levi’s back, skating over the soft brushed cashmere of his sweater, telling him that she wants him to be gentle with her — for now, anyway. Joanne’s comment must have stung, he thinks, and he resolves to show her exactly how beautiful he thinks she is, pregnant or not. There’s a certain earthy, ephemeral beauty in her pregnant body, something attractive and incredibly arousing about the thought of her creating and building life even as she sits next to him selling lemon bars at a school bake sale. He loves the way her hard edges have softened, the pleasing new fullness in her cheeks, the luminous glow that seems to emanate from within her.

(He has learned since her last pregnancy not to mention that he also loves the growing size of her breasts, and in return Mikasa only rebukes him for staring when he’s open-mouthed and practically drooling.)

Mikasa’s eyes flutter closed as Levi rocks against her, a gentle motion that makes the car bounce in time with his thrusts. A bubble of laughter escapes her lips.

“What’s that for?” he asks with a smile, then kisses her before she can answer.

“I love you so much,” she says against his mouth. “And fuck Joanne.”

Levi stops moving; Mikasa cocks her head, silently asking him what’s wrong. “Don’t say that bitch’s name when I’m inside you.”

“Look, do you want to revenge-fuck me or not?” She isn’t sure if that’s a word, but during sex, when they’re heated and frantic for each other, even Levi’s crude come-ons sound like poetry, so maybe this will work.

It does. “You want me to revenge-fuck you?” he growls, slapping his hips against hers with a rough thrust. She whimpers at the impact, a wave of pleasure rippling through her body.

“Yeah,” she pants. “Show me how angry you are.”

He makes a low hum of approval; though he’s become more proficient at sweet talk and romance in the years he’s been with Mikasa, he tends to favor sex as intense as his personality, grasping hands and heavy eye contact. Mikasa has never seemed to mind though sometimes, like tonight, she needs him to make love to her first.

Levi fucks her hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the cool night, her cunt making obscene liquid noises around his cock. Even through the delicious haze of their passion they’re listening out for footsteps, for cars, for the creak of doors opening.

“We should finish soon,” Mikasa pants.

“I’m close.” He slows his pace, grinding against her, sinking into her as deep as he can go, before pulling back and scything into her slick heat again and again, harder and harder, muttering curses and endearments and wordless sounds of effort and desire.

And then he thrusts into Mikasa so roughly that her ass hits the hood of Joanne’s car hard, triggering the car alarm, horn blaring and lights flashing.

“Shit!” Levi yelps, startled by the sudden noise. He jumps back from her, stuffing his stiff, aching cock back in his pants and undoing the fly with adrenaline-shaky fingers.

“We gotta go!” She hops down from the car, landing unsteadily on her feet, pulling her dress down over her nudity. “Do you have the keys?” She scrambles over to their car, pulling at the handle of the locked passenger door. “Come on!”

Levi reaches in his pocket for the key fob, mashing the buttons so the doors unlock and the ignition turns on. Mikasa clambers into the car as fast as she can, slamming the door behind her, and Levi follows soon after. Through the windshield she can see someone coming to locate the source of the commotion and chants, “Drive! Drive!” at Levi while he clicks his seatbelt into place.

“Seatbelt!” he barks at her and she complies, fear and arousal and adrenaline making her feel jittery and giggly and wonderfully alive. Levi remains stoic, but there’s a devilish glee playing at the corners of his lips: he’s enjoying himself just as much as she is. He backs their car out of the parking spot with the precision of a stunt driver and peels off, speeding off into the night seconds before Joanne comes outside to investigate the shrieking car alarm and the strange ass-shaped dent on her hood.

#rivamika #alienheartattack writes #this fic has been in the works for YEARS and i've only managed to finish it today #if you dig through my blog there's a headcanon about this #it's good to be back!#i am working on other prompts - y'all really want some cottagecore arranged marriage stuff #the only arranged marriage AU I have in my head is dark af but I'll probably write it anyway #and I do have an old cottagecore postcanon fic idea i might be able to use #am I just procrastinating writing my novel? probably #btw if you want to know about that plz drop me an ask #i am 165k words in and it's still not done #and yes it is smutty and romantic

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

Method to my madness [Yandere! Switzerland x reader]

Word count: 4,144 Warning: NSFW content later in the fic. There will be a warning line before it starts, and another line to indicate its conclusion. So skip it if you don’t want to read it.

Synopsis: As a stereotypical Swiss, he never did anything unplanned and worshipped punctuality. But when it comes to you, he’d throw that all away and show up to your door unannounced. In another country. And in the middle of the school term. Why? Because he can. Because he doesn’t trust your neighbors, your raunchy one in particular. He was the polar opposite to him—lazy, sloppy, and disorganized. So when he tries to invite you to a party, Basch makes it a point to stop you from going—even if that entails doing exactly what he accused him of. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Crunching numbers occurred to him like second nature. Anything that could be explained in a book, he understood like the back of his hand. In fact, he didn’t have much trouble doing anything at all, but when it came to you, every fiber of his being would clam up. His infallible logic betrayed him like he never had any in the first place. Now was one of those times as he boarded a flight bound for California.

As he made himself comfortable in his seat, he gave the passengers around him a quick study. Already, they were stripping themselves of their outer layers. Windbreakers, jackets, coats, you name it. A middle-aged man removed his hoodie to reveal a T-shirt underneath, and with big, bold letters spelled ‘USA’, which popped out around his belly as if to emphasize it. A single thought occurred to him as he looked away with furrowed brows. Tourists.

They had their fun, and were on their way home, starting with preparing for the sweltering heat of Californian Summer. He folded his arms together and sank into his chair. He’d remove his knit later. At the moment, he had a more pressing issue in his hands. What was he supposed to say when he’d show up at your door without notice?

Hi, I felt a dire need to visit you all the way in America in the middle of your semester when I heard you were living in a dorm. But that’s not all. It would’ve been fine until you sent me a selfie with a guy in the background holding a peace sign. Then that other photo showing a different guy using your toaster. Which implies that there are numerous guys living with you. In other words, people I don’t trust alone with you.

So here I am.

Surely, that wouldn’t fly.

You’d known him as a man who had his whole life planned out in a diary. And this was hardly planned. It was spontaneous, even. Basch Zwingli, the stereotypical Swiss who looked at the clock for things to do, was being spontaneous? Hell may as well freeze over at this point. To say this would surprise you was given, but he didn’t see anything wrong with this, per se. He probably would’ve done this to Lilli, but the thing was, he wouldn’t have ever let her study abroad by herself in the first place.

She was his baby sister, but you weren’t. And that was probably why he was at your doorstep. He couldn’t oppose your choice of study, but he could sure as hell be part of it.

He knocked a few times. He could barely make out the faint ‘just a second!’, but the sound of the voice was so familiar, he froze up. But that wasn’t quite right. Hearing Lilli’s voice never made him feel this way. The door creaked open to reveal a less than presentable girl in her pajamas, an oversized shirt, and she had the messy bed hair to go with it.

And when you saw who your visitor was, the droop in your eyes disappeared.

“Basch!? Oh my god--what are you--” You could barely talk as disbelieving laughs fell from your lips. “I can’t believe it’s you! I almost couldn’t recognize your face because I didn’t expect you at all!” Reaching out to give him a tight embrace, he returned the gesture with a gentler hug.

His arms were slow to wrap around your form, but to even have your affection reciprocated at all spoke volumes of how he was feeling. It had been nearly half a year since he saw you last, and to realize he was spoiling himself with an unannounced visit sent chills down his spine. He really was pushing the envelope with this one. But he had a gut feeling he wouldn’t regret this at all.

When you pulled away, he caught you gleaming at him with the brightest of smiles. It was so infectious, he felt a light tugging at his lips. “Well, I’m here if that convinces you.”

You grinned. “What are you even doing here? My break doesn’t start until a month later! But I can say this is a good time you caught me in. I only have one more final to pull through.” Pulling him into your humble abode, you barely made it into the hallway when you failed to hear the sound of wheels. So you paused. “... Basch, where’s your stuff?”

Confusion contorted at your expression, but you looked more worried than anything. It would’ve made sense if he was planning to stay at a hotel, but that wasn’t possible. He’d rather sleep on the ground than spend hundreds of dollars for accommodation, and what was the point of visiting if he wasn’t under the same roof as you? He tensed up as he confronted how truly out of character he’d been acting.

Shit. Even he was shocked that he failed to bring the most fundamental of things for this trip. When he bought his ticket, nothing went through his mind besides the need to see you. It took up so much of his brain, it managed to block out the concept of a suitcase. Packing for a trip that was to last for months. How was he supposed to explain himself? “... They lost my suitcase on the way here.” Perfect.

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you nodded in understanding. “Ah, that’s too bad. I’m sure they’ll find it for you, though. Otherwise, they’re gonna have one hell of a lawsuit.”

“... But where’s Lilli?”

Why was his sister not with him when they were practically sewed together by the hip? And for such an important visit, no less. But he came prepared in case you’d ask. “Lilli’s not here because she had school. And I saw that tickets were the cheapest during this time so I decided to come early.”

At the sound of that, any traces of worry left your face and you burst into a fit of laughter.

“Of course you did, you cheapskate. I was always wondering which trait of yours was the strongest, but now I know.” Blood rushed up to his cheeks and he forced himself to look away. But when he felt your hands settle on his shoulders, he slowly turned to you. He didn’t even know if he was supposed to regret that action, because in that very second, he realized he was wrapped around your finger.

“I’m just kidding, Basch. There’s nothing wrong with saving money. And if that means you get to visit early, I’ll love you for it.” You cracked a tender smile at him this time around, and seeing that look on your face while listening to you talk had him wondering if he was even breathing at that point.

It was almost terrifying how easily he could lose his head around you. And he thought he had a good one on his shoulders. Everyone did. How come he could barely even think straight when it came to you?

“... Right.” He tipped his head forward to let his bangs fall in front of his face. It was a gesture that was almost shy in nature, but his action revealed a small ponytail on the back of his head, which of course, stole your attention away in an instant.

You gasped to emphasize the discovery. “Aw, did you tie your hair up? It looks so good! Everyone’s gonna be asking about you now!” Giving him a teasing elbow, you watched his expression morph into dismay. “Hey, I promise it’s a good kind of curiosity. College has us all swarmed and we’re dying for something out of the ordinary. My friends will be excited to meet you!”

“Why, because I’m… European?”

“Are you asking that because I complimented your hair?” He heard a soft snort from you. “I’m from the same town as you, dummy. I think I’d count as European as well. But that’s probably what they’ll be so interested about.” That was right. “If they find out about you, they won’t stop asking about if we’re… You know what.” Your voice strained a little and you looked embarrassed, even.

He blinked. For someone so high-strung about you, he could sometimes miss the key points.

“I’m having a hard time following. About what?”

You sighed and pushed his cheeks together to muffle his words. “Why do you always have to make me say everything, hm? They’ll obviously ask if we’re dating. You’ve never met them because they always go elsewhere during the break, but everyone will be here this time.”

By everyone, he assumed that included peace-sign guy and toaster-leeching guy. Immediately, he frowned with the most potent kind of disdain he ever felt. To think they spent most of the year with you was almost disheartening. But he didn’t need to remind himself they were the reason he was here. Basch could admit he was an oblivious person at times, but he wasn’t ignorant to the promiscuous sex life in college. The men here were wolves, so he had to see for himself if he could really leave you alone here.

But he had a feeling he wouldn’t be leaving your side anytime soon.

If that was going to give your friends the wrong idea, or perhaps, the right idea about you two, then so be it. He even wanted them to assume things. Even if he didn’t think much of it, flying all the way here for an impromptu visit was more than enough to get mouths moving.

He had yet to be on the same page as them. To realize that maybe, what he was doing wasn’t because you were like a little sister to him--like Lilli--someone to be protected. Or rather, someone he had strong feelings for. But given enough time around these so-called friends of yours, he’d learn it the hard way. And who better to press his buttons than your raunchy next-door neighbor?

The day after his unexpected arrival, he’d encounter this very neighbor who found the leisure in swinging by for a visit. Basch had his hands full with dishes in the sink when a few knocks were heard. He was generous enough to make lunch and clean up, though you had to wonder if doing chores was how he’d repay the debt from all the things you had to buy for him.

He never moved from where he stood as he could already hear you scrambling to answer the door. When it creaked open, a low and playful laugh greeted you. “There’s my girl.” My what now? Turning his head to the newcomer, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw a man lean in from the doorframe. Said man reached out to give your hair an affectionate ruffle, and immediately, Basch decided he didn’t like him.

“Mornin’. Did ya eat yet? I was gonna go to a cafe for some grub. The one that has those killer vegan pancakes. Wanna come with?”

You hummed in disappointment. “Sorry, Al. I just ate. Maybe if you came in a little earlier, I would’ve been able to come.” Placing your hands on your hips, you placed emphasis on what you later added. “It’s two.”

No, he hated him. From that brief exchange and study of his physical appearance, he knew he was practically the polar opposite of him. A lazy, good-for-nothing slob. He had two full sleeves of tattoos. Piercings decorated one of his eyebrows, and as he spoke, he saw a small silver ball on his tongue. His fiery red hair wasn’t even long, but it was still unkempt as if he just rolled out of bed and didn’t bother checking the mirror. But then again, he did greet you with ‘morning’. Basch tightened his ponytail and made his way over to you, disgruntled. “...”

Sensing his presence by your side, you patted him on the back. “This is Basch, by the way. The friend I told you about.” When you exchanged looks with Basch, your smile faltered when you saw his expression. He looked almost upset, though you hadn’t the faintest idea why.

You figured you’d ask later.

The stranger was fast to acknowledge him, and with great enthusiasm at that. “Ohh, you’re the dude who flew over from Finland or something!” His striking ruby eyes widened with fascination, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “Wow, you’re pretty high-strung bout’ her, aren’t you? Makes the two of us.”

High-strung about you? Of course, he was--whatever the hell that meant. “... Switzerland.” The blonde clarified, to where Allen merely shrugged. “Close enough.”

While you laughed off his playful jibes and apparent forgetfulness, Basch couldn’t humor him. Between him and your neighbor, they were probably completely serious about the high-strung bit. He could tell in that brief side-eye Allen gave him, almost as if he was trying to stir some kind of reaction.

So be it. Two could play at this game. Unbeknownst to your raunchy friend, Basch could be just as outspoken.

“Anyways--” Rolling his head to you, Allen shot you an expectant look. “So… What’s your answer, doll? To the party this Friday? Is it a yes or a yes?”

“She’s not going.”

Your lips separated agape to answer, but he beat you to it. His invitation was shot down just like that. Shock widened your eyes and you gawked at Basch. You knew how protective he could get, exceedingly so, but it never got to the point of canceling plans without discussion.

“What do you mean, I’m not going? Basch, it’s fine!” You exasperated, but his only response was to squeeze your hand.

Something was wrong, for sure.

“... Yeah, it’s not like anything‘s gonna happen. Not when I’m around. So what’s the big idea, man?” Allen folded his arms disapprovingly. A shrewd light glinted in his eyes when he was struck with an idea. “If you’re so worried, you can just come with. Even though you’re not her boyfriend—”

Basch felt himself go red in the face. From both anger and mortification—because Allen was right.

“... Fine. I will go with her.” He relented, albeit reluctantly. Hardening his stare at the tanned figure, someone who sounded more persistent than he liked, he let his tongue slip. “And it doesn’t matter I’m not her boyfriend. I’m still her best friend, and I care about her more than you do.”

It was a given from how long you’ve been this close to him. But that didn’t change the fact blurting that out was unlike him. It left you in a blushing tizzy to hear him explicitly say those things, and you grew hyper-aware of his iron grip on your hand.

Being protective was one thing. But when was he possessive?

Allen laughed. “Yeah, yeah. You can flex that label all you want.” Making a move to leave by turning his feet, his lips curled up into a mischievous smirk. “I don’t want it. Not when a better label’s up for grabs. Boyfriend. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Shooting you a wink to reduce you into a stuttering mess, he took his leave.

And when he did, Basch lost his shit.

“How long have you been friends with that guy? Can’t you see he’s just trying to get into your pants? He’ll probably stop being so nice to you once he does!” He fumed, taking both your hands into his as if to secure you in place. But really, you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you were about to receive the biggest lecture of your life. “You can’t hang around people like that, (F/N). You can’t trust him.”

You hung your head as a frown downturned your features. There was some truth to his words, especially when the man he spoke so ill of was a fairly new friend of yours. It was a shame to say the least because you did like having him around, but that wasn’t the biggest concern of yours at the moment. “You’re right… Kinda… I just really liked him as a friend, so I didn’t wanna say no…”

That didn’t come out right.

He thinned his lips as a grim expression contorted at his face. “... Did he do anything to you?”

You shook your head profusely. “No! God, no, of course not! Sorry, I put it weirdly. Nothing happened, really.”

Basch sighed, reaching out to pinch the bridge of his nose.

His bangs fell over his eyes to hide them. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this worked up over you, over a guy at that, but then again, he was beginning to suspect there was a little more to it than that. “... Okay. So are you gonna go to the party?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll probably go if you come with me, so…” With your free hand, you held onto the hem of his shirt. When he caught sight of the look you had on your face, he stopped breathing all over again. “I can tell something’s wrong with you. You looked really upset just then, and it’s not like you to just snap like that.”

He released you to dig through his hair, loosening the once tight strands pulled back in his ponytail.

That was right. Since when was he so possessive?

So jealous?

He bit his lip and looked positively defeated. As he fixated on the ground to avoid your gaze, he felt your hand gently cup his cheek, forcing him to look up at you. “It’s not like you to suddenly show up out of the blue, either. So tell me, why did you actually come here?”

Basch furrowed his brows and screwed his eyes shut. “... I don’t know. I just wanted to see you. That’s all.” You softened your gaze at that, feeling your chest swell up with warmth. He was always brutally honest, but he was more ambiguous when it came to how he felt.

So to hear him admit his troubles so easily had you almost worried about him.

As if he sensed this worry, he offered you a small smile of reassurance.

“Don’t worry about me. I swear there’s nothing wrong.”

Or that was what he wished, at least, because he was far from okay.

To make things worse, Allen wasn’t patient enough for today because he dropped by two more times after meeting Basch for the first time. Nearly a week had passed since then. This only proved his suspicions—that all he wanted was to get in your pants—and it left Basch positively restless. So restless that he couldn’t leave you alone.

It was finally Friday, and you were in your room browsing for outfits for the night. The man was sleeping like a log in your bed, and after a few unsuccessful attempts at waking him up, you decided to change with him in the room. How he ended up in your sheets wasn’t anything out of character, per se.

In the previous few days, he followed you around everywhere you went. That, you were perfectly fine with, but sleeping in your bed? He was pushing it. Despite your valiant efforts to get him back into the guest room, it was unparalleled to his own determination. What could you say? He was as stubborn as a mule. That statement would manifest into reality as he stirred awake.

Sitting up with the worst bed hair you’d ever seen, you found yourself covering your chest instinctively as he stared dead into your eyes with his own drooping ones. “Basch! Sorry, um, I couldn’t wake you so I decided to just…” Blood rushed up to your cheeks as he continued to stare, wordlessly. “Basch?”

You watched him slide off the mattress and saunter over. Holding your wrists and lowering them, he exposed your bra, but he never gave you the chance to complain. Instead, he loomed his head over yours and glowered at you. “You’re not going.”

Goosebumps pricked all over your skin when his hot breath fanned over your lips, and you were much too taken aback by his closeness to object. In fact, his face was so close, his nose was brushing against yours. “Wait, what are you--” Your whispers were cut off abruptly when he sealed your mouth with his.

He was kissing you. Albeit innocently as he parted frequently, pecking your lips over and over again. As gentle as he was, he still left you breathless, but flustered and confused all the same. But you didn’t have the heart to push him off you as your mind raced with questions. Why was he doing this? Had he always felt this way? There was a tenderness in his touch that told you he had.

But why didn’t he ever tell you?

When he finally parted, he kept his forehead pressed against yours. “Just tell him you’re not interested.” He frowned. “Say you already have a boyfriend. I’ll pretend if I have to.”

Because he’d been denying it.

“But--” Basch kissed you again, leaving a silvery strand of saliva connecting your lips as he parted. Your chest was rising and falling in a fervent manner as you struggled to breathe--the same plight he’d been facing for a while. Frankly speaking, you were at a loss from how much control you let him have over you. But you never tried to push him away. At this point, the throbbing in your chest had completely shattered your resolve. “--why are you kissing me if we’re pretending? There’s nobody here but us.”

His cheeks reddened before he tugged you along to your bed. Seating you on his lap, he attached his hands to your waist and squeezed it, making you yelp out in surprise. “If you’re letting me kiss you, then how are we pretending?” You blushed at that, realizing you had just as much of a part to blame.

Leaning in at that, he fanned his breath over your lips. “It just means it’s real.”

He still wasn’t processing the weight of his actions and just how out of line he was acting. But then again, he never did either of those things when it came to you. And it wasn’t like you were stopping him, either. So really, you were just as guilty for letting things go out of hand. Though you had to wonder if this was how things were supposed to be, especially when you continued kissing him in his lap.

*NSFW content ahead*

Said kissing escalated along with the heat of your bodies, all until he had his tongue in your mouth.

He never realized how much he’d wanted this until he had you under him, squeezing his neck as he left lovebites all over yours. Then, he made his way down to your shoulder and collarbones, chewing on your flesh until he memorized the taste of you. But he couldn’t say he was satisfied. Not until he truly crossed your boundaries and went all the way.

That was where this was going, after all.

Rather than going to that party Allen invited you to, you spent the whole night having sex with Basch. To say it was a psychedelic experience was an understatement.

As he held you down to make love to you, letting his arousal curve deep into your walls at every strong thrust he gave, he had you writhing in pleasure so good, the last remnants of your sound mind were completely destroyed. So while you would’ve been fussing about the fact he didn’t use any protection, you couldn’t, not when he fucked you silly.

To him, this was a culmination of everything he wanted. To have you for himself. And this rampant desire was so potent, it inundated him. Tugging apart the strands that held his self-control and reason together, he lost his head.

You never imagined he’d be so energetic and reckless in bed, even cumming inside you, twice, on purpose, when he was always so high-strung about safety. But as you found yourself on his thighs again, trembling as you sunk down to the base of his cock, you could watch him unravel with all sorts of animated expressions you’d never seen before.

Desperation, lust, and an aggressive infatuation as he bounced you on his imposing member. Bringing you close so he could bite your ear, you could hear the shivering in his breathing as he held back his moans. “You drive me so fucking crazy sometimes...” He whispered.

*NSFW content ends*

That was the first time you ever heard him curse, too. So maybe, you really were driving him crazy. This would become more apparent the next morning as he slept in past noon, something he hadn’t done in years.

And depending on if you’d remember or not, he’d buy you some morning-after pills.

Because something happening wasn’t a big concern of his.

In fact, it excited him.

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