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achillieus · 3 years

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let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts) (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on. And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break.

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :(

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell @partypoison00 @90ssantiago

#sebastianstan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #letyoudown #monday the movie #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

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Day 54: There Was Only One Bed

The case had been absolutely brutal.

Draco was completely exhausted, every muscle in his body ached, and it felt like every step might be his last before he simply passed out and fell asleep on the ground. And he was still so bloody cold, there weren't enough warming charms in the world to help him get warm.

Trudging along beside him, his feet dragging across the ground, he knew that Harry must be feeling the same. "The hotel's just up ahead," Harry murmured. "I can't wait to get a nice hot shower and then sleep for the next eight to ten hours."

He nodded in agreement, by morning the DMLE would be able to get a portkey to them so they could get back home, for now the room they were providing at the local muggle hotel would have to suffice.

The girl at the check in counter in the lobby was far too cheerful for Draco's taste, chattering away about the festival that was coming to town tomorrow and the weather (the weather of all things). Harry didn't help with his polite responses and his bloody adorable smiles.

It felt like an eternity but they finally made it upstairs and stumbled through the door only for both of them to draw up short.

"There's only one bed," Harry said.

"Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, Potter," Draco drawled, quietly panicking.

After a beat Harry suggested, "Why don't you go shower and I'll check in with the desk about it."

Draco looked over at him, "Are you sure? You're the one who got dunked into that icy water."

Harry nodded, "Your lips are starting to turn blue."

He rolled his eyes but gave Harry a little smile, "Thanks, savior."

"Fuck off," Harry laughed. "I'll be back," he added as he headed out of the room.

(Read more below the cut)

Draco turned the water as hot as it would go and climbed in under the spray, his body shivering as he slowly warmed up. By the time he got out and wrapped himself in a fluffy bathrobe that was hanging on the back of the door, Harry had returned. He'd stripped out of his wet clothes and put on the other bathrobe and was sitting at the desk, working on their report.

"What was the verdict?" Draco asked.

Harry turned and looked over at his shoulder, his eyes sliding over Draco's body covered only in a bathrobe and making Draco feel warm all over before he reminded himself that they were professionals. The other man couldn't possibly be interested in him like that, he chastised himself. He needed to get his head out of the clouds before he ruined everything.

"This is literally the only room left in the hotel," Harry said. "It's a queen size bed, though," he said with a little shrug, "We should be okay, right?" he asked, voice soft and strangely vulnerable.

Draco cleared his throat and put on his usual masks, the ones that kept anything more than friendship hidden, "Oh, I suppose," he replied and Harry gave him a relieved little smile. "As long as you promise not to steal all of the blankets."

"Promise," Harry replied, crossing a finger over his heart in a gesture that was decidedly not adorable.

Draco nudged him up from the chair, "Go shower, I'll finish these."

Harry nodded and rose, Draco watched his retreating form until he disappeared from sight. Then he turned to the reports Harry had started and picked up where he'd left off, steadfastly not thinking about Harry's naked body just on the other side of the door.

When he came back out, his long curly hair was hanging loose around his shoulders, weighed down by the water. He didn't let himself stare, didn't let himself wonder what it would be like to wrap his fingers through his hair and cover Harry's mouth with his own.

"I have some extra sweatpants," Harry said, completely oblivious to the way Draco was slowly dying inside, as he sorted through the muggle jacket he'd been wearing for the case and pulled out a little pouch. He reached inside, his arm disappearing to his elbow.

"Merlin," Draco said, watching him dig around in the bag, "Hermione's spellwork is really second to none."

Harry grinned at him over his shoulder as he dug deeper, "Right? Here," he said tossing a pair a of navy sweatpants at Draco, "These have a tie at the waist so at least they have a chance at staying up around your skinny body," he added before tossing him a DMLE t-shirt that was soft from all of the times it had been worn before.

"Thanks," Draco murmured, throat thick with the intimacy of wearing his clothes. He was fairly certain he was never going to recover from this.

"No problem," Harry replied, his dimple flashing at him.

Without another word, Draco headed back to the bathroom to change and to get a hold on his emotions because honestly, this was all feeling a bit too domestic and he needed to get a grip before he said or did something stupid.

When he came out, Harry was standing in just a pair of grey sweatpants, still digging around in the bag.

Draco's jaw literally dropped, it should be illegal for the other man to wear grey sweatpants, especially without anything else underneath. Lust spiked hot through Draco's body and his fingers itched to touch.

Harry turned to look at him, "I cannot find another tshirt in here," he said.

Draco tried to click his jaw closed and get the fucking blush that felt like it was covering his entire body under control before Harry noticed. "Sorry?" he managed.

"I can't find another tshirt." He repeated as he scratched the back of his neck, "Is it going to bother you if I sleep without one?"

Yes! Draco wanted to scream, Circe, yes. How was he meant to sleep when all of that skin and those muscles were right there?

"Draco?"

"Do you want this one?" he asked, indicating the one he was wearing.

Harry shook his head, "You get colder than I do," he said. "I run hot."

Yes, you do, Draco thought because Merlin, Harry was attractive.

"What?" Harry asked.

"What?" he replied.

"What did you say?"

Panic, absolute panic, flooded his mind when he realized he must have said that bit aloud, "Nothing," he said. "Just yes, you do run warmer than I do."

"So, it's okay for me to just sleep without a shirt?" Harry asked, sounding confused and uncertain and if the floor could just open up and swallow Draco whole, that would probably be preferable to this.

"Merlin," he said. "Sorry. No, it's fine, of course it's fine. I'm just exhausted."

Harry hummed sympathetically, "Me too." He nodded to the papers on the desk, "these can wait until tomorrow."

"Great. Bed then?" Draco asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied as he tossed the bag onto the pile of his clothes in the chair. He climbed under the covers on the right side of the bed and let out a low moan as his body sank into the mattress, "Godric, that feels good."

It was karma. It had to be, Draco was paying for every single misdeed that he'd ever committed.

"What?" Harry asked, sitting up on his elbows in bed to look at Draco, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

Harry's brow furrowed, "I don't know. What's bothering you?"

"Aren't you going to do something with your hair?" he blurted because it was the first thing that came to mind.

"My hair?"

He nodded, "Doesn't it dry funny if it's wet when you go to sleep? Do you ever, I don't know, braid it or something?" That seemed reasonable, didn't it?

Harry tilted his head at him, "No. Honestly, I don't know how to braid my hair."

"Let me," Draco said, then immediately cursed himself. Was it possible to just die from embarrassment?

But Harry didn't seem to think anything of it, "Yeah, alright," he said, sitting up cross legged, and turning his back to Draco.

After taking a slow deep breath and willing his racing heart to slow, he climbed on the bed and knelt behind him, "Tilt your head back a bit," he murmured and he started french braiding the other man's hair, his curls still damp but surprisingly soft.

Harry hummed softly as Draco's nails scratched lightly at his scalp as he gathered new sections to draw into the braid. "Feels nice," Harry murmured and Draco's mind was flooded with images of Harry laid out on the bed as Draco touched and kissed every inch of him; images of heady, hazy pleasure that made the back of Draco's throat feel dry.

"Good," Draco whispered as he continued to work his thick hair into the braid. "You have really fantastic hair," he said, "My mother has thick hair, I was always jealous, mine's so fine and wispy."

"I like your hair," Harry protested. "It's so shiny and it looks so soft. You've had nice hair since third year when you stopped slicking it back against your head."

He couldn't help but smile, "Just the personality that was a bit lacking."

"You turned out alright," Harry teased softly and something in Draco's chest warmed at the praise.

He summoned an elastic from the tray of office supplies on the desk and wrapped it around the end of the braid. "There," he said, "Now you won't wake up with your hair in your face."

"Thanks," Harry replied softly.

"No problem," Draco responded.

They stayed still for another long moment before Harry said, "Right, I'm half asleep just sitting here. Ready for the lights to be turned off?"

Draco shifted and slipped under the covers, "Yes."

Wandlessly, Harry turned off the lights and slid under the blankets, "Good night, Draco," he whispered.

"Good night." And there was a longing that settled deep in his chest to simply roll onto his side and pull Harry close. His fingers twitched to reach across the mere inches between them and hold Harry's hand in his.

He didn't know how long he laid there, listening to Harry's breathing, feeling the heat radiating off of the other man's body and aching to bridge the gap between them, all he knew was that, for the first time in his life, his feet weren't cold as he drifted off.

---------

Draco was having the most amazing dream.

He was laying in bed with Harry, their bodies all tangled together, as Harry kissed him. Draco's arms wrapped tighter around him, hands caressing, the broad, smooth planes of his back.

"Mmm," Harry hummed as he sucked on Draco's lower lip. When he drew back, he pressed hot, open mouthed kisses along Draco's jaw, licking and sucking as he groaned, "Mmm, Draco."

Surely, Draco had never heard his name before, it resonated down to the core of his being and made his entire body shudder as he arched closer and tipped his head back to give Harry easier access to his neck.

His fingers slid into Harry's hair, catching on the braid. And in that instant, he realized this was not a dream and his eyes snapped open. "Shite," he managed, shoving Harry back, "I'm sorry," he gasped, even as Harry flailed and fell on the floor.

"Ouch," Harry groaned.

"Shite," he repeated, "Fuck." He ran a trembling hand through his hair, tugging at the short strands as he tried to come up with some way to fix this, to salvage their partnership, to salvage their friendship. "Salazar, Harry, I'm sorry."

Harry sat up, on the floor, "Just to be clear, what are you sorry for?"

"Kissing you," he said. "Harry I never meant for you-"

"That's what I was afraid of," Harry groaned.

"Sorry?"

Harry shook his head and summoned his glasses so he could shove them on his face, "No, I'm sorry. This is all my fault." He looked up at Draco from where he was still sitting on the floor, "Can I be honest with you?"

Draco nodded.

"I have an embarrassingly massive crush on you."

He stared at Harry uncomprehendingly.

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Harry continued, "And I know that you couldn't possibly feel the same," he hastened to add, "But I'm sure that sleeping so close to you made my subconscious-"

"I feel the same," he blurted because he couldn't possibly wait for Harry to finish that sentence, not when he looked so heartbroken.

"What?"

Draco tried to get off of the bed, got tangled in the sheet, and ended up sprawling on top Harry on the floor. "I," he said, rubbing at his rib cage where it had banged into the nightstand, "Ouch. I feel the same."

"Yeah?" Harry breathed, his fingers clenching in the tshirt Draco was wearing.

Draco nodded, "For absolutely ages. I-"

Harry's mouth covered his and stopped the flow of words but that was just fine with Draco, obviously his mouth had been made to kiss Harry and nothing more. Harry started trailing kisses all over his face and Draco couldn't help it, he started to giggle.

He could feel Harry's smile against his skin but he growled teasingly before Draco found himself quite suddenly flat on his back on the mattress with Harry's body over his.

"Did you just apparate us without a wand?"

Harry's head popped up from where he was sucking what Draco was sure was going to be a fantastic bruise on his neck, "It's not like it was far."

"That is ridiculously hot," Draco said, arching up against the hard planes of Harry's body.

"Let's see what else I can do to get you to say that," he said with a wink.

Unsurprisingly, there was no shortage of things that Harry could do that Draco found ridiculously hot.

---------

On their way down to complimentary breakfast the next morning, they were greeted by the man covering the check-in desk, "Good morning, gentlemen, I trust you slept well. Especially since you didn't have any neighbors on your floor," he added with a smile.

"We slept great, thanks," Harry called as he hurriedly ushered Draco toward breakfast.

"Wait a minute," Draco said, looking over at him. "You said that every room in the hotel was full!"

Harry cringed, "I lied."

He stared at him in shock for a moment, "You Slytherin!" he accused. "Look at you, using your cunning to get what you want."

"Well, I'd say it worked out just fine, wouldn't you?" Harry asked with a pout.

And he took pity on him, because he was honestly the most adorable thing Draco had ever seen and he was pretty sure he was in love with him. "Better than fine," Draco replied, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips.

And it was better than fine, in fact, it made a fantastic story for their wedding just over a year later.

------------

Ho boy. This one got away from me. Sorry it's so long!

Day 53: First Anniversary | Day 55: Music

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry #drarry drabble #drarry ficlets #idiots in love #there was only one bed #I'm weak for this trope #sos #Sorry it's so long!#thank you for the prompt!#I hope you enjoy it!

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chasingpj · 3 years

Text

𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫

pairing: leo valdez x child of iris!reader

requested?: yes!

translation: full of color

warnings: uhh, mentions of mental health and ?? maybe some typos lmao

category: headcanons, fluff, best friends to lovers

pre-relationship

though, leo saw you around camp often, you caught interest in him before he caught interest in you

i mean, he literally couldn't miss you because your outfits were always bright, whether it was a combination of colors or monochromatic

you and your siblings actually look like a rainbow threw up on you guys, and it's honestly iconic

no one at camp can not notice the children of iris, especially when they're in a herd

one day, you were sitting alone at a picnic table near the lake, and you found yourself drawing him in your sketchbook

you sketched a portrait of him while he spoke to piper at a table nearby

you've always found the floppy curls and how his brightest smiles always look a little manic to be adorable

when you sketched his portrait in your notebook, you didn’t intend for him ever to see it

until a couple of weeks later in the arts and crafts center, leo passed by and caught sight of a new project you were working on

he stopped in his tracks to compliment your drawing

since you were nowhere near done with it, you couldn’t admire the piece as much as he was

but his enthusiasm was so endearing

he politely asked if he could see more, and you didn’t hesitate to slide over your sketchbook

he noticed a lot of your drawings were scenery and people at camp; especially your siblings

he stumbled across a detailed sketch of a woman and her child sitting in a bus

“wow… who’s this?”

“oh, I don’t know. It was just a little girl I saw on the train with her mother.”

“so you just drew her?”

you never realized how weird your habit of drawing random people was until he had asked

you giggled nervously, quick to explain yourself, “I tend to draw people or things that I find beautiful. I wanted to capture how calm and happy she was with her child ‘cause at the time, I was stressed and angry. Watching and drawing her made me calm.”

leo nodded, a faint smile on his lips before looking back down at the drawing. “that’s really cool,” he complimented, and you shifted in your seat, suddenly shy.

And then it hit you

you were so willing to show leo all your works that you had completely forgotten that his portrait was in that book

your pulse thumped loud in your ears, mind racing to figure out a way to take away your sketchbook before he could see it

you ended up spending so long thinking of what to do that he arrived on the page in no time

right before he could see the drawing in its entirety, you slammed the book closed and snatched it

leo’s startled expression turned into a mischievous smirk

“was that me?”

you froze in your place; a squeaky sound escaped your throat in your embarrassment

leo’s brown eyes sparkled as he leaned into you, your gaze fixed on his, “y/n, you think I’m beautiful?”

AHHHH!

^^ that was you in your head btw

leo laughed, amused at your attempt to deny it

“then why did you snatch it away?” he raises an eyebrow before reaching over quickly to grab the sketchbook back

you didn't pull it out of his reach fast enough, leo getting a grip on one side

the two of you pull it back and forth, leo laughing at you as you continued to deny what he saw

though you were incredibly embarrassed, you couldn't contain the laughter bubbling in your chest

gods, of course, this would happen to me, you thought

he got it out of your grip, and you sighed in defeat, watching him flip to the page of him and piper

he was quiet, studying the picture for a second before giving you that playful smirk

“you think I’m beautiful?” he asked again

you playfully rolled your eyes, “it was more piper than you.”

your tone was sarcastic, only fueling leo’s banter with you

“oh really?” he chuckled to himself, “but i’m the only one colored in.”

you were silent at his observation before scoffing, “whatever.”

leo only laughed as you take the book away from him

“don’t you have somewhere to be, fire boy?” you asked and nudged his shoulder

the glint in your eyes made him smile, and he shrugged, “i guess i do. i'll see you around."

you nodded, too shy to do anything else, and he walked off

after that, leo took it upon himself to talk to you every day

leo teased you about the drawing all the time, and he found the way you would play along to be funny

before you both fell in love, you were close friends

you had such an optimistic point of view about life, and it was pretty contagious

somehow when leo was in the dumps about something, you always knew what to say

you were just so easy to talk to, and because of this, your friendship just grew naturally

your first kiss was towards the end of summer

leo invited you to hang out with him in bunker nine at, specifically, 6 pm

you teasingly asked if it was a date, and you remember the way he tensed up a bit

with a mumble, he asked, "what if it is?"

from the tone in his voice, you knew he wasn’t joking

in fact, his tone was hesitant, a part of him was expecting you to reject him

then the heavy pit in his stomach turned light when you smiled and said, "then I'm down."

the grin leo gave you made your heart flutter like crazy

your first date consisted of eating snacks and watching a movie on one of those portable DVD players

You picked up on the tension between you and him, and noticed the opportunities for a kiss kept passing

it was until Leo walked you to your cabin that night did you have a moment of boldness and asked, "so are you going to kiss me or?"

leo's eyes widen in surprise before his face broke out in the familiar smirk he gives when he flirts with you

you rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into you

your first kiss was sweet and soft; a little awkward

his hands hovered over your sides for a second, not sure what to do with them until he decided to rest them on your waist

it was the perfect way to mark the beginning of your relationship

relationship

since you guys are both broke teenagers, you got creative with date nights

you came up with the idea of paint splattering with him

you guys got canvases, covered the walls and floors with plastic to make sure you didn't dirty them

then you filled water balloons with paint and just threw them

despite you guys singing and dancing around in the midst of it, the canvases came out so good

and to commemorate the beginning of your relationship, you hung them up side by side in bunker nine, and when you guys get a place together, you hang them up in the hallway of your apartment

leo is a huge gift giver; as i’ve said before in my “how he shows he loves you” headcanons

he’s made you a lot of things; canvases, jewelry, little trinkets with scrap metal

one of your favorite gifts from him is a suncatcher with rainbow quartz

you fell in love with it and when you move in together, you make sure to hang it up in the kitchen with the bunch of other suncatchers that he’s made you

i love the idea that you would attempt to bring more color in his wardrobe

a lot of his clothes are muted in color; you don’t mind it but you were interested to see what he’d look like in a colorful outfit like yours

To say the least, he was not that enthusiastic and maybe, you shouldn’t have put him in a monochromatic orange outfit but… you still thought he looked cute

leo thought he looked like a traffic cone though so it didn’t stick

it’s okay because you like him the way he is anyways

another thing is that you guys are super supportive of each other and leo loves just how you manage to lift his mood

once leo was having a bad mental health week

you guys were sitting under a tree, looking out at the water

his head laid on your shoulder and small sniffles came from the other

it hurt to see him like this and you wished you could do more to make him feel better

then you had the greatest idea to make a rainbow for him

so you did

leo was so stunned when he saw the rainbow form over the lake

he looked at you surprised and when you admitted to making the rainbow for him, the emotion on his face was indescribable

and then you laughed and held him when he started crying because he said it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him

another time, you insisted that meditation would be good for him

he literally sat down for like 3 minutes with his eyes closed before he was itching to get up and do something

even when he was sitting down, he was still bouncing his legs and fidgeting

so that fell through too but you still helped him in other ways and he’s so grateful for your optimism and bubbly personality

leo always says that you bring color to everything; literally and figuratively

one of the things you bring color to is his life

and he’s constantly reminding you of this; that his world just feels brighter now that you’re around

and it’s literal too

since you painted the walls of bunker nine a bright orange

he asked you why orange, and you told him because orange encourages productivity, creativity, and most importantly, optimism

it may have also reminded you of the orange outfit you put him into

anyways, you told him that it hurt you to see him get down in the dumps, and you insisted there was no way he could be sad in a bright orange room

needless to say, you were kinda right

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky @anything-forourmoony @loverstyless @yelenabel0vaswife @ohmydamgods @jordannfields @amy-writes-blog @muted-mayham @dreamerball @earthtokace @thehighladyofday @lala-llama123 @tootsdoll @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @black-rose-29 @somekidnamedkai @possiblylostchasecousin @hamdehlesmis @cami05sworld @does-anyone-hear-me @sol-the-salmon

if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on!

#leo x reader #leo valdez fanfiction #leo valdez one shot #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez #leo valdez timestamp #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez headcanon #my writing

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y0itsbri · 3 years

Note

Hi Bri 🥰

C-16 if you'd like to 👀

Coffee dates and disasters

au with college!lip and barista!mandy where ian is a frequent visitor at the campus café and meets mickey under rather unfortunate circumstances. don't cry over spilled milk, buddy.

which also fits under a.u.gust for @gallavichthings

words: 2.4k

"never would have thought you the type to come to one of these places," ian mused, looking around the small café with only lamps and string lights illuminating the space. "can't believe college changed you, man," ian clutched at his heart dramatically.

"don't worry. 'm still the annoying bastard you love so dearly," lip squeezed ian's shoulder before he sauntered up to the counter.

the barista's bored expressed brightened when she saw them. her perky demeanor was matched by a high pitched voice, "hey lip," she smiled, dark lipstick striking. she appraised ian with a somewhat predatory eye, "hello, lip's friend."

"uh, brother," ian coughed.

lip rolled his eyes, "and he's gay so don't even try it, mandy."

she pouted and flicked her hair behind her shoulder, "not that it's any of your business, anyways."

ian chuckled besides him, drawing another smile out of mandy, this one kinder, sweeter.

"what can i get you boys?"

the pink highlights glistened in her dark hair as she whipped up lip's cold brew and ian's caramel macchiato, then proceeded to insist that this one is on the house. neither of them argued, but thanked her before they settled down in some stools by the window.

"fucking the barista privileges?" ian asked, raising his eyebrow at his slut of a brother.

"i think of it more like fellow south sider charity," he rubbed his bottom lip, "but yours works too," lip smirked around the edges of his coffee cup.

"you're an idiot."

"can a man who got us free drinks really be deemed an idiot?" lip philosophized.

ian paused, taking a moment of thorough consideration. he looked lip straight in the eyes as he answered, "if that man is you, then without a doubt."

lip tried to knock ian's cup out of his hand, but failed at his attempt. ian thanked his well-practiced jrotc skills and a lifetime experience of growing up in a house packed with annoying siblings for his victory.

they chatted about the robotics classes lip was taking, how he got full-time access to one of the labs, and his weird ass roommate who may or may not be gay if ian is at all interested. ian scrunched up his face. after hearing so many horror stories about the guy, ian didn't want anywhere near him. he wasn't that desperate yet.

the second that lip was out of his seat and heading to the bathroom, the beautiful mess that was mandy descended.

"hiiii lip's gay brother," she leaned against the table.

"it's ian," he spun his empty cup in his hands. he couldn't help himself from smiling at her charisma.

"well hi, ian, i just wanted to say sorry if i spooked you earlier. i just had no idea lip's brother would be so cute!"

"his ugly mug's not too hard to beat." ian laughed. "he got the short end of the gallagher stick, literally."

"cute and charming. you're funny, ian gallagher, i like you." she placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment, a movement so soft compared to her rather frantic appearance. "come back here anytime and it's on the house, yeah? i work most evenings after three."

"oh. uh- okay," ian scrambled for words, "thanks."

she squeezed his shoulder once before lip returned with a rather obnoxious entrance.

"ayo mands, stop harassing him!"

ian ducked his head in embarrassment.

"oh, shut up! i'm just clearing your cups," she winked at ian as she left.

mandy was something else. but she was kind and good company. ian could get used to the chill atmosphere over the chaos of the gallagher house anytime. he might just take up her offer.

"you'd think with all the time you spend here, you'd be offered a scholarship or something by now." mandy sipped on her chocolate frappuccino as she laid her feet across ian's lap. he always made sure to come visit during her breaks at least twice a week during the past couple months.

ian shrugged, "guess they only had room for one gallagher."

mandy hit his arm in a way that hurt. lip was fucked if he ever broke her heart.

"does fiona even know that this is where you sneak off to?"

"yeah." mandy's look said she didn't believe him. "well, kinda. she thinks i'm visiting lip, brotherly duties and all."

"yeah? how are those brotherly duties?"

"fuck if i know."

she laughed.

"i still think you should apply here for next fall," she encouraged, "could take some art classes."

"i suck at art."

"chemistry?"

"failed that."

"business?"

"yeah, no thanks."

mandy flipped him off, "fine. botany?

"ya know what? sure." he had always wanted to grow tomatoes.

"really?!"

"heart wants what it wants, mandy. we can't all be psychology brainiacs."

"brains and beauty, what can i say?" she teased. ian laughed, eyes glistening towards his friend. mandy made things better.

"hey," she continued, "there's this concert on the main campus lawn this weekend, you should totally come!"

"isn't that just for students?"

"they don't card, dummy."

"right, right, i knew that."

"sureeee. you in?"

ian mentally checked his work schedule.

"i'm in."

lip and ian strolled into the café a few days later. okay, maybe ian had felt a bit guilty for abandoning his brotherly duties lately, but at least this way he could hang out with both his best friends. well he could have if he remembered the fact that mandy had the day off for her behavioral neuroscience midterm. they had literally spent her previous shift reviewing the terms, he should have known.

ian's couldn't help his face from falling as another blonde barista took their orders, mostly eyeing lip the whole time.

"hi lip," she smiled a little too sincerely, "what can i get for you today?"

ian had ordered something new at the recommendation of the blonde and he was not a fan. and to make matters worse, he had to actually pay for the atrocity that he wouldn't even be able to finish.

"so how's your little coffee dates with mandy?" lip asked over his cup.

ian nearly choked on his god-awful americano. "how'd you know?"

"please. she's obsessed with you. every time i see her, it's 'ian this,' 'ian that,' 'ian might apply here in next year.'"

"oh."

"yeah, oh. when were you gonna tell me?!"

“it’s all mandy’s idea, i’m not even sure i want to,” ian muttered, refusing to make eye contact.

“dude, i’ve literally shared a room with you since the day you popped out of monica’s wretched womb, you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”

okay maybe ian had been getting increasingly more excited about the idea of attending school and actually learning things that he wants to learn. something that might actually lead him somewhere real since rotc was looking more and more like a poor man's fantasy the more that he thought about it.

“I was gonna tell you, swear on it.” and he was. once he convinced himself that lip wasn't going to straight up laugh in his face. but the look in his eye seemed genuinely supportive.

“mhm, i gotta catch my english lit class," lip stood up, swinging his tattered tan backpack across one shoulder. he patted ian's shoulder in his big brother ways, "don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah for sure! have fun learning a language you already know!” lip flipped him off at his smartass remark.

soon after, ian stood up to return his drink to the counter, the anxiety from the conversation making him entirely lose whatever appetite he might have had. plus, it wasn’t the same here without lip or mandy. he just wanted to be wrapped up in a cocoon in his own bed. but that was so far away. maybe he could catch an early ride—

thump.

ian crashed into a guy’s sturdy body.

the remnants of his shitty drink spilled in an americano nightmare over both of them, ceramic pieces shattering on the floor in a truly horrific manner.

ian yipped and the other man let out a grunt of irritation.

they were fucking soaked. well, at least the coffee wasn't hot? ian tried justifying the situation, but, nah, this was bad.

"shit! i'm so sorry, lemme," ian reached out and the shorter man flinched away.

they were now far enough apart that ian got a good look at him. a leather jacket.. now covered in ian's drink -- shit. and shockingly piercing blue eyes that lingered too long on ian's before his cheeks turned a shade of pink that made ian's stomach flutter.

he might have seemed cold if he didn’t make ian feel so warm.

"it’s cool, man. i gotta go, uh," and he walked out of the café without looking back.

fuck.

ian smelled like coffee the entire train ride to the back of the yards. he laid in his bed regretting his entire life.

no mandy. no lip. no dignity.

the day of the concert that mandy had invited him to rolled around. ian wouldn’t admit it, but he was nervous to spend a coffee-less evening with mandy, their entire friendship built inside that one room. his little bubble of safety was bursting.

well, to be honest, the bubble had burst the moment that his disaster of a coffee was spilled onto one of the most ridiculously pretty guys that he's ever seen. every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the guy’s face shift from hostile to something else. he was torn between wanting to know the his name and also on never seeing him again in fear that he would simply pass away of embarrassment.

hopefully mandy hadn't heard about it. they may not have been friends for a long time, but he already knew that she would never let him live it down.

"hey ian!" her familiar voice called. that sounded promising.

his face fell with relief as he finally spotted her at the corner. she embraced him in a warm hug before pulling back and giving him a once over.

"huh, could have sworn you'd still have coffee behind your ear or something after the description karen gave me of your little disaster the other day." she smirked, quite literally double checking behind his ears as they turned hot under her gaze.

"ugh, fuck, how much did she tell you?" he itched his forehead and scrunched up his nose.

"oh, calm your tits, it's funny as fuck." she giggled, punching his arm in a way that still unintentionally hurt.

"whatever. are you excited for the concert tonight?"

their reunion conversation lulled eventually, and ian noticed that they weren't necessarily standing alone.

no. fucking. way.

just his luck, if he was being honest. he probably deserved this.

there he stood. the man that has plagued his dreams the past few days. in a light wash jean jacket that was a little tight on the biceps, leaning casually against the wall, kicking the pebbles on the ground with his boot.

"uh, what's he doing here?" ian gestured towards the victim of The Coffee Incident.

“what, you know him?” mandy asked, walking them towards him.

“vaguely.” if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.

"huh. i didn’t think my idiot brother had any friends."

brother? how did ian not realize she had a brother?

"what, did you think i was going to babysit you all night? i can't let everyone here thinking you're my boyfriend, no offense or whatever, but you're in good hands!" she kissed his cheek, clearly not helping her own not-looking-like-her-boyfriend rule.

ian eyed said brother's good hands only to see the faded letters of FUCK U-UP on them. oh.

mandy pushed ian over to her brother, "ian, mickey. mickey, ian," she introduced before pushing and shuffling her way through the crowd of college students to find herself someone’s cheap ass fruity alcohol to mooch off of.

mickey. ian's brain repeated over and over, a chime against the murmuring sea of voices they found themselves enveloped by.

"nice jacket," ian pointed out, an awkward attempt to converse before shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"it's my second favorite." the corners of his mouth lifted like there was more to the statement. ian took the bait, as if he could resist.

"what's your first?"

"first is still airing out the fuckin’ coffee smell," he smirked as ian groaned. "oh c’mon, man, don't go crying over spilled milk."

how could he not? on the bright side, he didn’t seemed to hate ian for it.

“if it was anyone else,” mickey drawled, “they’d have to get a beat down for it.”

“why do I get a free pass?” ian mused.

“well, you’re mandy’s friend, right?”

“yup,” ian tried to suppress his disappointment. he really did. but fiona always told him he wore his heart on his sleeve.

“yeah, that ain’t why, though,” his eyebrows waggled suggestively and ian nearly felt his heart drop out of his ass.

ian blessed whatever coffee god was out there for sending him both mandy and the beautiful man in front of him.

“you wanna go listen to the band?” ian nodded his head towards the stage with passionate players jumping around like they were playing lollapalooza or some shit.

“lead the way, stud, just try to keep your drinks off of me this time,” mickey knocked into ian’s own flannel covered shoulder.

yeah, ian couldn’t believe his luck. maybe karma was finally on his side.

—

mandy smirked at her brother and best friend not-so-subtly checking each other out over the course of the night, bopping their heads to the music and downing whatever free booze they could get their hands on.

she hoped that adding mickey to the equation would be enough incentive to convince ian to stick around. things were better when he was near.

the way that ian followed mickey around like a lost puppy with that dopey moon-eyed look, it seemed like her hopes would come true.

and when both ian and mickey strolled into the café to come visit her at work the next week, mickey in his worse-for-wear leather jacket and ian in borrowed denim, she thanks the coffee gods for her luck.

118 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 4 years

Note

Hi!! This is based on a reddit post I saw where a woman found her husband's "secret stash" of all the love letters/cards/post it notes she had written for him through all the years that he kept!! (🥺) and I would love to see it rewritten with Coops, if you want! Thanks for all the stories you write. I v much appreciate u

Okay so I looked up the story you’re talking about, and that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever read. My god. I’ve mentioned that Remus leaves notes in a couple of past fics, so this was just a perfect ask! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Hattie is mine!

For the anon who watched a sad video in their class: Have some coops fluff to dull the pain!

Remus sneezed as he shifted the nightstand a smidge to the left, exposing a dozen dust bunnies that were starting to look more like dust rhinos. He pulled and rocked and pushed, but the small table refused to move far enough for the vacuum cleaner head to fit through. “We need to clean this more often,” he muttered, opening the top drawer to unload some of the weight from inside.

Three books, a handful of pens, a spare toothbrush, a waterbottle…Remus shook his head at Sirius’ collection of oddities, smiling to himself. The nightstand moved a bit more when he wiggled it, but not quite to the point he needed it.

The lower drawer was bigger, and scattered with whatever Sirius had left in his pockets at the end of the day—Remus found three different packs of gum and laughed a little at the knickknacks they hadn’t been able to fit on their dresser. Part of him wanted to put everything back and ask Sirius to go through his own shit, but it was kind of neat finding souvenirs of their everyday lives.

Remus paused when his hand hit something solid and smooth before the back of the drawer. He felt around blindly, then carefully pulled it out. A box? His curiosity got the better of him before he could debate the nosiness of opening it; he lifted the shiny lid, tingling with anticipation, then frowned.

Paper. The box was full of slips of paper.

Lined, colorful, plain white, even some of his old PT stationary—everything Remus could think of, including a few cards at the bottom. He took a piece off the top and unfolded it, then nearly dropped the whole container when his own handwriting stared back at him.

Left @ 8 to see Leo. You were still out cold—sorry for wearing you out (not😊). Will be back around 4-ish. Love you! <3

Remus blinked at the note in shock for a moment. He remembered writing it on the old bookmark the morning after they went to the trampoline place and spent five hours jumping until they could hardly feel their legs. “But this was last summer,” he said aloud. “I—what?”

He poured a few more into his palm and set the box down gently, then sat back against the side of the bed and began to read.

Crock pot turned on. Pls remind me to take it off @ 5 pm. If I’m not home, pls unplug it @ 4:45 was written on a corner of printer paper.

Happy birthday baby! You are wonderful in every way and I love you so much <3 Here’s to hoping all your wishes come true! Love, Re, on a birthday card he had picked out because the dog on the front looked just like Hattie.

An entire conversation, complete with doodles and sarcastic comments from both of them, written on a piece of lined paper from one of the many conferences they had attended together.

- Eggs

- Chicken

- Bread

- Sweet tarts (for my sweetheart)

- Oreos (there’s a sale this week, coupon under note 😊)

- Pasta (twirly kind)

Love you <3

in his loopy half-cursive, with the shape of a fridge magnet still indented at the top near the crumpled edges from being shoved in Sirius’ back pocket.

“Well, shit,” Remus said, sniffling despite the fact that no tears dampened his eyes. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dozens, if not hundreds, of little papers stared up at him from the open box and he blew out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to the one in his hand. He hadn’t realized just how many notes he had written over the course of their time together, and he skimmed his fingers through the rest before carefully putting the ones he had taken back in and closing the lid. The box fit into the drawer with ease and he leaned his head on the wood for a second to slow his heartbeat.

The nightstand moved the last few inches once the rest of the clutter was strewn across the floor and Remus quickly vacuumed the dust elephants before dumping it all back in. As much as he itched to throw some of it out—the empty wrappers and pen caps didn’t seem to have a use—he was afraid he’d accidentally toss an important memento. Hell, the note box had looked like a pile of confetti at first.

The front door opened just as he began lugging the vacuum cleaner downstairs. “Re, I’m home!” Sirius called, then broke into a bright smile when Remus appeared in the stairwell. He was soaked in sweat and Hattie was breathing hard; she collapsed on her bed with a dramatic groan after drinking a few mouthfuls of water, too exhausted to do more than thump her tail on the floor.

“Heya, handsome.” Remus’ heart picked up its pace again. You kept all my notes, it shrieked happily, doing its best to break right out of his chest with affection.

Sirius tilted his head when he saw the vacuum and the dust on Remus’ pants. “Were you cleaning?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to get under the bed for a while, and I didn’t have anything else to do.” He shrugged. “You’re welcome to do it next time, if you like.”

“I’ll do the dishes to make up for it,” Sirius said as he leaned in for a kiss.

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t. But I will dust the bookshelves and wipe down the kitchen.” They both laughed and Remus stood on his tiptoes for a second kiss, sliding his teeth over Sirius’ lower lip and drawing a noise of surprise from his mouth. “Hi. What was that for?”

“Love you.”

Sirius glanced down at himself, then raised an eyebrow. “…because I walked the dog? Or is it the sweat?”

“It’s definitely not the sweat,” Remus snorted, smacking his rear as he passed. “You can take yourself right upstairs with that. Where did you even go?”

“Around the neighborhood, then to the park. She grabbed my hat and we played keepaway for a bit.”

Remus hummed as he bent down to plug the vacuum into the wall socket. “How the hell did she—oh, ew!”

“What?” Sirius asked with mock-innocence as he lifted Remus higher off the ground and tucked his gross, sweaty face into his neck. “You don’t want cuddles?”

“You are literally dripping! Get the fuck off,” Remus said around his laughter, swatting at his shoulder when Sirius started swinging him back and forth slightly. “Sweat monster.”

“C’est vrai.” Sirius kissed the hinge of his jaw and set him down, then headed toward the stairs with a final grin. “Thank you for cleaning, mon loup.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Remus said, rolling his eyes playfully. A soon as he heard the bathroom door close, he let go of the vacuum and did a happy dance in the kitchen, much to Hattie’s amusement. He would have to remember to leave notes more often.

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calaofnoldor · 4 years

Text

Drug of Choice

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 3,790

Summary: A night of drunken rambling leads to an unexpected change in your relationship status.

Warnings: angst, language, alcohol, feelings of inadequacy, very slight allusions of alcoholism/talk of drug addiction, reader likes the sound of their voice a bit too much when drunk, fluff, implied smut

A/N: written for @deanwanddamons 1st blogiversary and 2k follower celebration challenge! my prompt was “I wish I knew how to quit you“ which is bolded in the fic. congrats on the incredible milestone, sorry this is late! also for @spnfluffbingo and it fills the mood board square for @girl-next-door-writes‘ Make Me Feel Bingo challenge!

Square Filled: Kissed to Keep Quiet

MASTERLIST

It was four in the morning when Dean finally came home, and the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat before you atop the library table was over a quarter of the way through.

The heavy thud of his boots against the bunker floor drew your dark-adjusted eyes toward his shadowy figure, while the alcohol in your bloodstream loosened your lips, "How was she?"

"Jesus- Fuck!" There was a slight commotion before the lights flickered on, forcing your eyes to shut against the onslaught of sudden brightness. "Y/N??” Dean’s gruff, alarmed voice shattered the previously eerie silence, “What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark by yourself?"

Your eyelids lifted an experimental sliver but you kept your gaze directed down at the glass of whiskey in your hands. "It wasn't dark when I started."

Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed the slur behind your words. "Started what? Are you drunk?"

His second question prompted a dismissive snort from you, "Hunters can't get drunk; you should know that by now, Dean."

"Yeah alright, we need to get you to bed." The man of your dreams began to make his way over to you until your gravelly words ceased his steps.

"I can't sleep... you haven't answered my question yet."

"What question?"

"How was she?"

"Who?"

You looked at him like he was crazy, "You know, the girl from the bar, the one with the curly hair… the one that was climbing onto your lap when I left?"

"I don't- there was no girl," Dean stumbled. His lips were parted and his eyebrows pulled together in an ever-gorgeous expression of bewilderment, but you were too busy examining the way the newfound light danced along the lustrous amber liquid between your fingers to notice.

"Oh," you grumbled in response, sounding a bit disappointed, which only served to deepen those adorable lines of confusion between Dean’s brows. "She sure was pretty though.” There was a pause as you pondered his declaration before blurting out in disbelief, “You really didn't fuck her in the back of Baby?"

"What- No! Y/N, there was never a girl and nothing happened, OK?" He sounded genuinely serious, so you conceded.

"I'm sorry."

"Why- why are you sorry?"

"I know you needed to blow off some steam after today, after I pissed you off by fucking up the hunt." You ventured a glance up at him through your lashes and the unadulterated pain in your eyes almost had Dean reeling back in surprise.

"What are you talking about? You didn't 'fuck up' the hunt," he argued, shaking his head as if to accentuate his point.

"Course I did. I got you hurt and I nearly let that dickbag get away."

A weighted sigh escaped Dean, "Y/N, you have to know that wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing for me. Besides, I wasn’t pissed off, I was... I was scared, OK?”

You were about to take another sip of your drug of the night when you lowered your glass to let the irrepressible giggle leave your system, “Scared? Since when does the big bad Dean Winchester get scared? And if he did, he definitely wouldn’t be talking about it out loud. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been drinking?”

“I mean, I have been drinking but that’s beside the point. Look, Y/N, why don’t we talk about this tomorrow, alright? You’ve just gotta sleep this off.”

"Pft. This isn't something I can just sleep off. Trust me, I've tried." There was a tickle in your throat that alerted you of the oncoming word vomit, but your friend Mr. Daniels seemed to be gaining complete control of your tongue; it was all he was ever good for really, “I’ve also tried drinking it away, but clearly that doesn’t work either. There’s just- so much- of it, of you… and now, now you’re in me-“ Dean’s eyes went wide but you were no longer at liberty to stop, “and I can’t get you out. Sometimes I don’t even think I want to. But I don’t think I can keep going like this any longer either… all this waiting, and wondering, and watching.” Some fragment of sobriety within you recognized how ridiculous and melodramatic you sounded and it gave you enough sense to avoid eye contact with the subject of you’re alcohol-induced speech, as if that could help you elude further embarrassment.

“OK, you’ve gotta slow down, Y/N/N. What the hell are you talking about?” At this point, Dean had moved to take the seat across from you, subtly sliding the bottle of Jack out of your reach as he sat down.

A mirthless laugh was your reply, "Of course you don’t know. Why would you?“

“What does that mean? Why wouldn’t I? Y/N, what’s going on?”

But you ignored his questions and answered with one of your own, “Why am I never enough? You know what, don't answer that; that was a rhetor- rhetor…”

“Rhetorical?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, flailing your index finger in his direction, “Yes, that’s the word. See, even your brain is too good for me.”

“What- why would you say that? Y/N, you know that’s not true. And why do you think you’re never enough? You’re plenty enough.” Concern now painted Dean’s features. He hated seeing you this way, broken and depressed, trying to drown your feelings in whiskey; he’d figured that was his trademark amongst the bunker residents. And he couldn’t understand how someone as incredible as you would think themselves unworthy of anything. Whichever son of a bitch made you feel this way would pay, Dean swore it.

“Then how come you never pick me?” you countered simply, deciding it was finally time to call out his hypocrisy.

The accusation floored Dean. He scooted back in his seat as he stared at you with a slack jaw, utter perplexity swirling within his emerald eyes. Over the years, Dean had garnered an inkling that you felt some kinda way about him, but he never really let himself believe, and not once did he think he could be hurting you. On the contrary, he always figured it was his own hopeful heart playing tricks on him. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure he was hearing you correctly, or that your drunken state could be trusted, though he remembered you once told him that you were always the most honest version of yourself when you drank, whiskey in particular.

“I watch you go out with waitress after bartender after waitress, but I’ve been here the whole time, and you never consider me. It’s like I don’t even exist, like I’m not even an option, like I could never even help you scratch that itch, at least not as good as any barfly across the Midwest could.” You were aware that this was getting out of hand, but you couldn’t seem to find the brakes. “But that’s not even the real problem – I mean, sure, a roll around the hay with you would probably be mind-blowing as fuck – but it would never solve the root of it, never be enough for me.”

Dean had been studying you meticulously as you spoke, your words starting a fire to the embers of his soul, breathing life into a long-forgotten hope that brought him both joy and fear. “What would? Be enough for you, I mean?” His tone took on a raw sultriness that matched the intense, borderline predatory glaze of his eyes. Needless to say, Dean hadn’t expected your sardonic laughter to fill the air, and your sudden frenzied, carefree state certainly took him off guard.

“Nothing!” you laughed, “I don’t think anything will ever be enough for me! C-cause you’re like this drug that I’m hooked on and it’s just so fucking hard to get off… I mean, it’s also hard to get off without you now, or thoughts of you anyway...” Your tangent was quickly overcome when you remembered the topic of your initial spiel, “But it’s like everything about you draws me in! From the way you reference classic literature even though I’ve never seen you pick up a book that’s not about lore, to the way you rebuild Baby from scratch like it’s no big deal, to the way you’re so good with kids even though you never got to be one yourself, to the dumb way you bottle up all your feelings and never let them see the light of day yet still manage to do so much good in the world, t-to the way you get excited over classic rock and crappy horror movies and pie, and don’t even get me started on the way you love Sam! I mean, it’s just all of it! It’s your strength and perseverance through literal hell, it’s your huge fucking heart despite the mask of swagger and charm, it’s that stupid grin you get when you make a dumb joke and Sam rolls his eyes at you, it’s just those god damn lips in general! And then you walk around looking like that!?” you gestured wildly at all of him, “I mean, who gave you the right?!”

Dean looked like he was about to respond, but you cut him off. There really was no stopping your tirade now, “I’m like an addict who can never get enough, and when you leave, I get feelings of withdrawal, and I don’t know how to fucking deal with those either… You’re so deeply ingrained in me; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to flush you out of my system. And I just-“ you took a rare pause to heave a large breath before admitting quietly, “I wish I knew how to quit you. I really do, because as much as I love you, and trust me, it’s a whole fucking lot – God, does it feel good to finally say that out loud – but for every ounce of love that I have for you, for every bit of you that I’ve inhaled, it hurts just as much. Because you don’t feel the same, and you never will, and I don’t blame you, because you’re Dean fucking Winchester and you could have whoever you want with just a wink and half a smile, and you deserve to have whoever you want-”

“Are you done?” Dean was quick to latch onto the brief respite in your monologue, “Fuck, Y/N, you really have no idea what you do to me, do you? What you are to me?” His head shook in disbelief while his troubled green eyes searched yours.

“What I am to you? I’m your hunting buddy, Dean. The one you call when you need an extra hand with a vamp nest or an extra set of eyes to scour the books, the one who stays up with you when you have nightmares about the souls you tortured in hell, the one you sing rock songs out of tune in the car with, just never the one you go to for a booty call,” you finished with a bitter laugh.

Dean’s head had never ceased it’s shaking, even as he got up and walked around the table towards you. “Only because you’re worth so much more than that. Y/N, you deserve so much more than me.”

It was your turn to shake your head. How typical, you thought as you rolled your eyes and stood up to meet his eye line, “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dean. I know you’re trying to let me down easy and that’s nice of you and all, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well, Dean Winchester, and I know there’s no way in hell that- Mmf!“ The rest of your words were intercepted by Dean’s lips on yours.

The feeling was unexpected but not at all unwelcome. There was an urgent force behind the kiss as he pushed his mouth against yours with gentle yet firm ferocity, bracing your head with large hands cupping both sides. It felt as if he was desperately trying to convey a message to you, to disprove your woeful words of self-pity, or perhaps he just wanted you to shut up. You, of course, responded with tremendous enthusiasm regardless of his intent, grasping blindly at his forearms while slotting your tongue and lips around his in an increasingly frantic manner. You didn’t care if the kiss wasn’t good for him; this might be your only chance to take what you need from Dean Winchester, if only a tiny fraction of it.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting for air. Dean still held your head in both hands as he leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that; you’re drunk... Do you at least believe me now?”

A slight grimace contorted Dean’s features as his mind was suddenly bombarded by a multitude of conflicted thoughts and feelings, feelings of desire and regret and bliss and unease, but when he caught the dazed look in your eyes, Dean made up his mind, “Ah, what the hell, you’re probably not gonna remember much of this anyway. Look, Y/N, you’re wrong. I do feel the same way about you; I have pretty much ever since I saw that magnificent ass of yours.” Pausing to chuckle at his own words, Dean licked his lips, still able to taste the whiskey from yours.

“The only reason I fucked around with those other people was because I couldn’t stand not being able to have you,” he continued through closed eyes and gritted teeth before filling his chest with a deep breath, “Like today, when I saw that fucking werewolf come at you, I nearly lost it. The thought of anything happening to you scares me shitless, and I didn’t know how to process that feeling, so I let that girl at the bar get close. I was trying to fill the hole you created but it was pointless cause in the end, just like every other time, I couldn’t go through with it. Every time I try to forget about you, your face shows up in my head,” he growled in that low, throaty tone that always seemed to reverberate down to your nether regions.

“But I- I wasn’t lying when I said you deserve more than me. Y/N, you know me. I’m a broken, twisted, shell of a man. I’m-“

“Poison, I know,” you finally lifted your head away from his so that you could look directly into his dazzling eyes. Dean’s hands slid down along your neck and landed on your shoulders while yours remained on his forearms, not willing to lose all contact. “I know what you’re gonna say. You think you’re poison, that being with you puts a target on my back, that loving you is a death sentence… Did I get that right?”

Dean gave you a miniscule nod and a look of resignation as he reluctantly released you from his hold, forcing you to let go as well when he took a large step back. You suddenly felt extremely sober, the effects of the alcohol and that kiss all wearing off instantaneously, “And you hate yourself. No one hates you more than you, Dean.” Your voice was hardly a whisper now, “But that’s OK, cause I hate myself too, for never being able to make you realize that you are so much more than you give yourself credit for, that you deserve all the things you think you can’t have, that you can have them all and still be Dean Winchester.”

You watched as Dean’s eyes began to water and when a single tear rolled down his cheek, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. Approaching him as slowly as you would a nervous animal out of its natural habitat, you stopped directly before him before cautiously raising your arm to wipe the offending tear away with your thumb. Your eyes seemed to be locked in a silent exchange of colossal magnitude, expressing everything mere words could not, from harrowing regret to agonizing self-inflicted torment to desperate desire. It was the yearning in his shimmering eyes that gave you the courage to speak your next words, a runaway tear of your own joining the whispered plea, “Please, let me show you.”

When your eyes fluttered open the next day, they were greeted with the most beautiful sight you'd ever awoken to. Dean’s face was barely a foot away from yours, and the man himself was already awake, staring directly at you. He was lying on his back with his head turned towards you, while your body was twisted to face his. A bedside lamp was on, allowing you to marvel at the breathtaking perfection in front of you, and despite the booze having long since evacuated from your veins, your mouth still imparted the first thing that came to your mind, “You know, I've always wanted to count your freckles,” you murmured honestly, “Maybe map them out like tiny constellations so I can memorize them better, so that one day I could trace them even with my eyes closed.” Your fingertips moved of their own accord as you spoke, gliding softly over his cheeks and across the ridge of his perfect nose.

Dean caught your hand in his and kissed it repeatedly as his magical olive eyes continued to bore into yours, never once leaving your face. His pouty lips curved into the slightest smile as if he were afraid to rear hope yet couldn't fight the peaceful thrill you were bringing him by simply lying next to him. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“Not unless it counts to be drunk on you… Sorry, that sounded a lot less cheesy in my head.” You cringed but Dean’s smile broadened.

“And no hangover?”

“No, I told you, hunters can’t-“

“Get drunk. Yeah, I heard. So does that mean you remember everything?”

“I don’t think I could forget that kiss if I wanted to; my brain wouldn’t let me.” You glanced down at his gorgeous mouth before meeting his gaze again, “I meant it all, you know? Everything I said was the truth. Every word.” You moved your thumb to graze his lower lip and he puckered his lips to kiss it.

“So did I, every word… Especially the part about that sweet ass of yours.” The hand that wasn’t holding yours roamed down to grab at your butt cheek with a hefty yet tender squeeze, causing you to squeal in delight. When you settled down, he moved your hand to place it above his heart, “You know I’m no good at chick flick moments, but you can trust me when I say I’m addicted to you too.”

The sincerity in his voice sent butterflies through your stomach and your smile felt invincible. “I hope you know that when I called you a ‘drug’ I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. Some drugs are good for you. Some drugs can save your life,” you whispered as you fisted lightly at the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I wouldn’t go that far, sweetheart.”

“Isn’t that what you did yesterday?” Dean was about to retort but you sent him a raised brow and a look that said ‘don’t test me, I’ve got loads more evidence where that came from’ so he simply looked down with a small grin. “Does it still hurt?” You motioned to the white bandage on his shoulder where the werewolf had scratched him up yesterday when he jumped in front of you.

Dean shook his head, “Right now I can hardly feel it. Actually, it hasn’t hurt at all since I kissed you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted some more at his words. “See, that’s what I mean. To me, you’re like coffee on an early morning, morphine when I’m hurting, tranquilizers when I’m freaking out, Zoloft when the world’s got me down, mixed with a shot of ecstasy, and quite possibly the most potent form of Viagra known to mankind.” You might have lingered a moment to chuckle at your own joke, thinking ‘it’s funny cause it’s true’. Dean belted a guffaw himself and you were quite pleased as you continued, “You’re everything I’ve ever needed, all wrapped up in one beautiful, self-loathing man.” You stroked his stubbled jaw and caressed his cheek, letting your words waft softly across the distance between you, hoping he could sense the veracity within them, “And I just want you to let me love you, let me get high on you, so I can show you how good you are. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

A wave a sadness flowed through Dean and he lowered his gaze from yours. “This could end bloody.”

“I know,” you nodded, “But it’s so much better than the alternative... It was getting a bit too hard to bear, even if you were only eye fucking all those other suitors. Besides, if it means I get to kiss you whenever I want, it’ll be worth it. And if it means I get a chance to prove to you how worthy you are, then it’ll be more than worth it.”

“I was only staying away because I wanted to protect you from me, but I didn’t realize it was hurting you. I never wanted to cause you pain; Y/N, I need you to know that.” Dean’s warm, calloused palm ran up your arm, it’s gentleness in stark contrast to his fierce tone, while yours continued to cup his cheek.

Astounded by the passion behind his words and the utter beauty of his face, you whispered in awe, “How are you so perfect?” Seeing the cogs begin to turn in his brain, you quickly moved your index finger to press against his plush lips, “Shh, just let me say it. Baby steps, Dean.”

He took your finger and guided your arm to wrap around his wide shoulders, careful of his injury, then reached out to pull you snugly towards him until your bodies were completely flush, your chest heaving against his. “Well do we have to take baby steps with everything? Cause now that I’ve finally got you in my bed, I was kinda hoping you’d let me take you for a spin in it. Maybe find out if it’s really – how did you put it again? – ‘mind blowing as fuck’ I believe were your words?” That signature smirk of his that always brought you to your knees came out to play.

Your laughter fanned across his face, and the smile on your face was effervescent, “You really are one hell of a drug, Dean Winchester.”

thank you for reading! as always, feedback is marvelously appreciated!

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camslightstories · 3 years

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Tolerate It - Part 12

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. Female Reader.

Notes: Hey guys! How are you all doing? Well its been a long time since I updated tolerate it and its because I haven't had much inspiration, I been in a literal block, a part from that everything i been writing lately I hate it but I didn't want to let you guys hanging. So thanks to @captain-josslett for checking and helping me in this part.

I love to hear your theories, opinions, suggestions and more so if you have any comments leave on my inbox or message me. I wanna hear what you guys think is going to happen or what you want to happen. But right now I'm not receiving any requests since my inbox is full of them and I don't wanna leave you guys hanging. I hope you guys enjoy, and have a great day!

Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett @aznblossom @venteen @coxmicbabygirl @lezzzbehonesthere

Russian Translations:

Принцесса - Princess

The throbbing pain surges through your body as the cotton full of alcohol touches your wound softly, sending chills through your body. You laid on the white hospital bed in silence as your ex-girlfriend check the ripped wound on your torso.

With the myriad of thoughts and feelings running through your head only to fail, making you groan. Lena glances at you carefully and curiously as you kept quiet, her focus not leaving the ripped wound she was trying to mend. Noticing the different types of scars on your body some of them longer and worse looking.

“Can you tell me how does it feel?” She asks, gulping down when you made no move to speak. With her voice full of worry, she nods and takes her gloves off, only to stop when you spoke loud enough for her to hear.

“It’s fine” You state, keeping your eyes on the ceiling. In a monotone voice, as your heart almost bounced off your chest when she asked.

Clenching your fists, you move to sit only to groan in full pain as the wound touches the shirt cotton. The green-eyed woman immediately runs to your side, with fear. You took a deep breath before helping yourself up ignoring her questioning expression.

The Luthor woman out of desperation yells as tears fill her eyes. Throwing her hands into the air. “Can you at least look me in the eye?! Talk to me!”

“What do you want me to say, Ms. Luthor?” You answered rubbing your temples at the sound of her voice, a neutral tone and expression on your face as you looked at her. Her green eyes full of retained tears and her lip trembles as she looks at you.

She cried, cleaning furiously her tears as you looked at her. The last word came out quieter than the rest, showing a hurting part of herself. “I don't know! Just… please.”

“Ms. Luthor, I don't know what to say to you, nor I know what you wanna hear and I'm sure you don't either.” You answer in a soft yet determined tone as you tried to walk away only for Lena to get in the way crossing her arms as she tried to keep control of her emotions.

“You are just going to walk away?” She remarked loudly, exasperated for an answer. You stopped as you heard the words coming out of her mouth, the obvious distress in them.

“It seems to be the only thing you can do,” She added looking at you in the eye. You shifted uncomfortably before moving past her as fast as you could, ignoring her scoff.

She scoffed as you walked away from her, clenching your fits trying to find control as you felt the urge to yell at the black-haired woman. Now the free-flowing feelings in you have become stronger and harder to restrain.

You press your lips together and clench your jaw when the black-haired woman shouts loudly and desperately at you. “What about the ring?! What did I feel? What about everything?! Because you are here pretending nothing happen”

The smell of the alcohol invaded your nose, as the itching pain on your lower stomach kept throbbing, feelings run around your heart and head openly without any control. The white lights annoy your eyes as you try to focus on something else only to fail. The sneaky feeling tugging at your heart when you heard the break in her voice.

The feeling of conflict as the two sides of yourselves began to fight on how to act, how to feel, how to be normal. One part of you asked you, begged specifically to go and wrap the green-eyed woman in a comforting embrace, protecting her from getting hurt. And the other remained you from all the pain, the anger, the sadness you had resorted to when you left and reminded you how easy life was when there was everything clear with a common goal.

Lena shouted again this time, in an angrier and determinate tone. Stepping closer to you, in her CEO stance but the only difference was the fact that it looked forceful like she was trying so hard to hold it together, you heard her in her voice, in the way her feet hesitated to step closer. And as much as you hated it, it broke you inside. “Y/N! Just tell me something!”

You didn't know, how, when nor why, you turned around facing her with your heart clenching at the sight of her tears springing free. Her eyes looked tired and sorrowful, her cheeks were covered in tears and the ruined makeup, her hands were in a fist that you could tell where a base for self-control. You hated the pain she was revving, you hated the sadness in her eyes, and the tears that sprung freely but never even if you tried you could hate her.

“Just fuck off, dammit!” Your mind seemed to be in automatic mode when the words came out of your mouth. The green-eyed took a step back in shock when you snapped, the now wide-eyed woman made you regret every decision in your life as her eyes restrained hardly the tears she desired to disappear.

Against every fiber in your body, you shocked your head before starting again, glancing at your ex-girlfriend. Cutting the tension you took a deep breath before speaking, gaming Lena’s attention. “Look-”

You weren't even in the middle of what you were going to say when two well-known, familiar voices interrupted you. You tensed as you heard the voice of your sisters, the urge to just walk out and the urge to shout everything out were confronting each other as your mind running with all the different scenarios. “Y/N!”

You kept quiet as your sisters got closer, without hesitation you started to walk away to the run you had been staying only for a familiar blur to stand in front of the door with her arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face. Hope, happiness, and regret radiated out of her, while Alex stood behind you with a determined look on her face as you turned around to walk the other way.

A part of you wanted to yell at them until there wasn't anything left and the other wanted to walk away leaving everything behind to keep leaving the simple life you had been living for the past 3 years. Lena kept quiet as her mind kept doing rounds of possible explanations, while both of your sisters decided to stand in front of you with nothing but questions. But you remained silent as they did.

Questions such as “Why do you have so many scars?” “What is the tattoo on your chest?” “What do you mean of the Bratva?” “Why were you with Roulette the other night?” were thrown at you by your older sisters as you tried to ignore each one, only for them to keep pressing.

Lena had stayed in the same place, as they interrogated you. The black-haired woman somehow noticed the way your patience was getting closer to the end when you clenched your fit with so much force that the veins on your arms started to show slowly.

“Don't you think we deserve an explanation?” Kara asked, taking a step closer, which made you clench your jaw, the feelings running around your body screamed at you as the pain and anger started to build by second.

The feeling of anger and betrayal under all of those layers you tried to put up, under what you thought it would make you okay, it would make the pain go away, the memories, the feelings, everything...

Your oldest sister yelled, getting frustrated by the minute. “Feel free to fill up the blanks, but it seems that you are not going to do that are you?” The redhead asks sarcastically, covering somehow the relief of how you were but adding the worry of what had happened in the last few years.

When you didn't respond, ignoring the redhead. Your sister hits the table with her fists showing her frustration. Kara looked back where Alex stood with both of her hands on the table as she looked at you angrily. You stared at her, challenging the redhead, making Lena furrow her eyes when she noticed Alex walking back where Kara stood in front of you letting out a scoff.

“Don't you think we as your family don't deserve to know?” Kara asked with sorrow in her eyes and voice. Tears swelling up in her eyes as she searched in your eyes for any sign of her baby sister finding none but a challenging glare to the redhead and her now.

You felt everything come out, and you were seeing red. As you were about to snap, a strong familiar voice shouted in determination stopping you.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Your clenched jaw and fists kept the pressure making your vivid expression and reaction be acknowledged by all of them.

Oliver had been standing with Anatoly catching sight of the interaction between you and your sisters. The blonde man remembers vividly how going back the emptiness, the feeling of just wanting the pain to get away, the angriness at the world, every single detail. Seeing the mark on your chest, oblivious to outsiders but obvious to him, a torturous feeling in your chest as you tried to keep yourself in the corner, in the darkness, where you knew not to expect anything.

He saw the expression in your face, the way your eyebrows knitted together, the way your hands were converted into fists drawing blood at the pressure, the way you clenched your jaw, trying to keep control, the way your eyes were painted deep down with suffering but were void and incomprehensible on the outside, the way you tried to distance yourself into the darkness feeling the only calmness there, the way every time your fists hit something were not in act of defense or attack but in letting your hidden feelings out.

The way you tried to keep control, of yourself, of your feelings, of the world around you, of the memories, of everything but you, felt powerless in the darkness. Feeling the need to yell and run away from everything, to isolate yourself from the world, believing and trusting in yourself and only trying to keep everything inside.

“Принцесса, I see you finally decided to escort somebody” Your focus immediately went to the Russian man when he spoke, walking closer to you with a black garment suit bag in his right hand. Holding it up, as you make your way to grab it. His teasing voice made you roll your eyes while snatching the bag out of his hands.

Smiling at Lena and your sisters, the man walked closer to them as he spoke. Making you sighed in annoyance, while Oliver suppressed a smile. Lena looked at the man in the suit and took his hand with a firm handshake, Kara and Alex following to do the same as he presented himself. “Anatoly Knyazev, at your service. Принцесса friend”

“Work partner, if you don't have vodka or I don't have the green light with your new friend and I'm not courting anyone” You corrected giving him an annoying look, he shook his head when you hissed irritated.

The Russian man grinned at you before shaking his head as he spoke. “Roulette is not our business associate anymore, too ambitious and mercenary for her own good”

“Nice, then friend. I'm gonna go change, and I can solve a certain complication” You grinned sheepishly, which made Oliver sighed while your sisters and your ex-girlfriend looked at you curiously.

The Queen man waited for you to be out of hearing sight to speak “This isn't helping”

Anatoly kept quiet as he sat on the sofa, while Oliver spoke. Lena and your sisters stood in front of him, each one of them with expressions of annoyance and worry.

The blonde man took a step back, crossing his arms as he tried to reason with them before either of the three could respond. "I get it you guys want answers, but right now she needs to let herself be vulnerable again, she needs to feel safe, to feel she isn't in the darkness anymore and neither you nor I know what she went through and it's not going to help if you guys keep pressuring her”

The explanation had left the three feeling uneasy

“You do not get to tell me how to treat my sisters, Queen.” Alex spits at the vigilante. Lena and Kara try to calm the redhead down but your voice stops them.

“Let’s go” You enter the room and sensing the tension between the two, but you ignore it and walk to where the Russian man sits. Catching the attention of the group of four turning around to see you grabbing the gun from the shelf putting it behind the jacket you carried.

Alex didn't think twice before running up to you grabbing you by the upper arm, holding you back when you tried to get out of her grasp. Oliver sighed as you spoke, your eyes connected yours and hers in a glance, the staredown between the two created a visible tension. “Alexandra, let me go”

Tilting your head when Kara stepped in to put her hand on your oldest sister's shoulder, looking between the two before walking away with the Russian man by your side.

----

Entering the car shop you notice the obvious and threatening silence. Letting out a sarcastic sigh when you heard the sudden movement behind the next wall, the sound of the gun clicking, and the pushing from the same source. You looked at the Russian man before shaking your head to the side, taking out your gun.

Walking down the stairs you felt the end of the arm on the back of your head, and a hand topping your mouth. You kept in place for a second, raising your arms, before flipping the person down the stairs, keeping the gun in your hand before discharging it and throwing it away.

You walked down the stairs before shooting at the man on his thigh when the other two came out. You rolled your eyes when the two guys pulled their guns at you but were thrown to the side when an arrow hit them. Noticing the green arrow you sighed in annoyance before continuing.

“Leave it alone” Anatoly who sat on the chair waiting for you to be done, looked over to the group of four noticing your sisters and ex-girlfriend's expression of shock, while Oliver made his way to you. Noticing the man behind you, you spoke threateningly at him, before turning around.

----

The tall brunette guy who was now with a black eye and a busted lip, as you kept your hold on his throat. You murmured when the guy kept silent. “Okay then it's the hard way”

Pushing him down before shooting him, you looked over to the black-haired man staring at you with wide eyes. You walked where he was before lowering to the floor having the same eye contact, you looked at him and recognized the immediate fear before speaking. “Taking a wild guess, I'm gonna say you don’t wanna end up like those two, do you?”

The man without thinking shook his head, which made you let out a sarcastic laugh tilting your head at him before helping him up. “Okay, then where is Roulette?”

“I don't know, I don't know” He kept sputtering and shaking his head.

“She left this morning and left us here with the order to keep watch on someone” When you took a step closer to the guy, making him speak which made you look at him curiously before pushing him to the wall.

“On who?” You asked.

“Her, Lena Luthor” He responded, whispering only for you to hear, looking over where your ex-girlfriend stood.

A switch had changed and in seconds you felt everything come out, the rage, the pain, and in seconds you were seeing red. The calm, determined dementor had changed to an angry, protective one. A sudden outburst was what you had.

Moving your arm, pinning the man onto the wall with anger, you spoke eagerly and unease, threatening. Rage in your eyes, as you claimed to press harder into his chest, making the man cough in pain. “You tell Roulette that if she even thinks of breathing the same air in a 200 miles area as Ms. Luthor then I would make her life a living hell and everyone who is with her too”

Kara, who was listening in, smiled softly before looking down. The outburst had shown your care for her best friend, and that was a baby step that meant more than anything. The fact that you snapped at the moment your ex-girlfriend began mentioning showed that maybe it wasn't lost at all.

Your oldest sister looked at Kara curiously, before giving her a shoulder bump, giving her a questioning glance while your sister responded with a silent glance to you and a smile.

You pulled away from the man, giving him a second to breathe before striking your fist right at his jaw. Immediately knocking him down, the sound of the body plumb into the floor made you realize what just had happened, the myriad of feelings flowing through your mind were taken out the moment an arrow grazed your cheek and the soreness of your knuckles were now bothering you.

Looking behind you, identifying the red arrow, you let out a laugh before taking it out of the wall, throwing it to the side before turning around, softly moving your hand trying to relieve the ache. Oliver seemed to have caught up with the situation as he grabbed the arrow letting out a sigh.

“Still doing the same?” You shouted turning around where Thea stood on the top of the car with her bow in hand and black leather jacket on. A smirk on her face as the brunette jumped landing on the floor perfectly before making her way to you.

“I see you hadn't left the throne, princess” She claimed, teasing the last word. The two of you sharing a silent glance, when she came down. The small spark in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by you and neither by Oliver.

“And you are not so intimidating, princess” You flirted with the brunette, cleaning the small substance of blood coming out of the graze on your cheek with a teasing smile.

Lena knew the tone you were using, the smile you gave her, the little spark in your voice and eyes as you did. You were flirting with her, the jealousy feeling creeping inside her chest as she noticed. Drawing daggers in the brunettes back, she stood straight pulling out her CEO stand and expression, even if she felt her heart begin twisted remembering the once she was the one receiving the smile, the glance, the tone, everything. And she hoped that one day you would do it again.

#lena luthor #alex danvers x reader #lena luthor x reader #kara danvers x reader #baby danvers #supergirl imagine

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matsbarzal · 3 years

Note

Random/au number 10 with Connor McDavid please.

random #10. "im 600 years older than you. calm down."

word count: 1.1k pairing: vampire!connor mcdavid x reader warnings: mentions of death, vampirism, cynical connor

Connor couldn’t fathom why humans did half the things they do, he couldn’t understand the emotional development, or the obsession with caring about all the people around you when they would inevitably end up as just hallow versions of themselves when time finally took its toll on them. There was also a chance he may have just been a pessimist.

He tried to sympathize with the people that crossed his path over the years, tried to sympathize with their emotional capacities, their will to love and to care for one another, he just… couldn’t. It wasn’t that he, himself wasn’t emotional, far from it, really. It was just that he had seen time come and go, seen time ruthlessly rip human nature and capacity apart. Why continue to care, when inevitably everything would be gone?

You threw him through the ringer, though. Something about you made his brain itch, made his eyes cross as he tried to figure you out, tried to figure out what it was about you that made him… feel.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you, whether it was your lack of regard for his cynical view of life, or your lack of self-preservation every time you forced your way into his being, into his way of life, into the things he did. It was probably the fact he showed you what he was, and you just laughed. Laughed, and laughed and laughed as he stood there gobsmacked, annoyance covering his facial expression in seconds.

Connor would be cliché to say it, but maybe you were just different. He couldn’t say he loved you, not really, maybe, but not really. He couldn’t acknowledge that a mere human, a person with a beating heart and blood flowing through their veins, could evoke a passion inside of him, a fiery emotion that he hadn’t felt in over five centuries.

He was intriguing, from his perfect hair to his perfect skin all the way to his dark demeanour and the all-black house that made you laugh even more when he finally revealed who, what he was.

“Connor… this house, is so fucking depressing.”

“I like it. It’s quiet and keeps the warmth out. Watch your language.”

Groaning, you threw your head back at his words, a sigh leaving your lips as you observed your surroundings. The cabinets? Black. The bed coverings? Black. The window shades? Black. Aesthetically, it was pleasing to look at, but any sane person wouldn’t survive.

Good thing Connor wasn’t entirely sane.

“God, language? Are you kidding me? What are you, my dad?”

Smirking, he looked towards you, “I’m not your dad, but I am 600 years older than you actually, so calm down with the language.”

Scrunching your face up at his words, all you did was glare as you continued to make your way around the house. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t the first human to be allowed in, even Leon hadn’t seen his new development, opting to remain in his native country of Germany until he inevitably got bored and travelled again.

Connor had been alone for many, many years. By preference, of course. He wasn’t a naturally social creature. He didn’t care for constant companionship, or regular socialization. He enjoyed his solitude, enjoyed travelling, or staying in one place by himself. There were locals everywhere he went just like him, albeit usually younger, Canada not being a popular destination for the older generation.

“Do you actually sleep in here?”

“Huh?”

Quirking an eyebrow at you, he followed the direction of your pointer figure, meeting his clean-kept bedroom, the hue from the lightbulb illuminating the darkness of the room. He didn’t sleep often, didn’t really need it, at all, actually. Technically, he was already dead, no need to rejuvenate when there was nothing to rejuvenate.

“I relax in here, yes. Watch sports sometimes, I’m sure if you keep showing up, I’ll end up sleeping in there once or twice,” he knew his words could potentially come off as disinterested, but you just shrugged your shoulders, continuing on through the house.

He wasn’t lying when he said the darkness kept the warmth out, the goosebumps eliciting across your skin as he continued his tour. A collection room had you stopped in your tracks, observing the view in front of you. There were tons, if not hundreds of different artifacts, most small in nature, some larger, all shining back at you. Books, antiques, plants, drawings, everything was prevalent across the room.

“How old is all this stuff?”

Walking more into the room, Connor shrugged as he observed his surroundings. “Dunno, depends on each thing. Some are from the 16th century, and so on. That hockey stick there is from the first ever game played for the Stanley Cup, or the Dominion Hockey Challenge Cup, as it was called then.”

Swivelling around to look at him, he just grinned toothily at you and grabbed it.

“1893, awarded to the Montreal Hockey Club. Billy Barlow’s stick, pretty sure they don’t know I stole it, but ya know.”

“If you were still like… human, think you would’ve played?”

Placing the stick back in its holder, Connor contemplated, his head tilting side to side before nodding it gently. “My best friend and I, Leon and I, sometimes when a few of us are together we’ll play our own version. Doesn’t always work out well, and sometimes people end up with some nasty injuries, but Leon and I love it. Tkachuk almost gets his head severed every time, little shit deserves it, though.”

You could see the excitement enter his eyes as he talked about the sport, his mind reminiscing on the past experiences with his friends. At least some things evoked emotions in him.

“Why are you keeping me around? Why do you keep inviting me places?”

Connor stopped in his spot, his face going stoic as he looked at you. He wasn’t necessarily sure why he kept inviting you places, why you were so intriguing to him. What was it about you that made him want to be around you? Made him want to invite you into his home, and have you meet his old friends, have you meet his maker one day.

“You’re not like the others, I suppose. I enjoy spending time with you, you’re not like the others, and you’re not unbearable. A bit of a profanity problem, yes, but we can work on that.”

“Gonna keep me around for a while then, McDavid?”

Shrugging his shoulders again, he deflected the question as he gently placed his lips against yours, his hand cupping your cheek as his eyes slithered shut. Your own lips pressed against his greedily as your eyes closed.

“Perhaps. We’ll see.”

note: ah this is literally just cynical vampire!connor with a lil soft spot for the reader. thank you for requesting!! and i hope you enjoy <3

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astreausworld · 4 years

Text

Insecure

Woohoo, my first fic on here! I really hope you guys like it. One day I might go back and rewrite it, but I had a lot of fun! ✨💕

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x OC

Summary: Shigaraki is feeling insecure about his upgraded body, and about himself in general. Juno decides to help him feel better.

Content: NSFW, femdom, pegging, fingering (Shig receiving), rough sex, hair pulling, edging, teasing, Shiggy being an adorable bottom

Words: 2.6K

Tomura Shigaraki sighed softly as he looked in the mirror, insecurity rearing its ugly face as he looked at his nude body. Seeing his pale, dry skin made his neck itch. He lifted his left hand up, glaring at the missing digits. His fight replayed in his head as he wiggled his remaining ring finger and pinky. ‘Well, at least I can still wear a wedding ring.’ He jokingly thought. Tears swelled up in his eyes as he squirted lotion into his hand, lathering it on his arms, the feeling of his skin on his fingertips making him feel more insecure. “I hate this body. I hate this body. I hate this body...” He mumbled, shame and anger welling in his core. He wished his stupid quirk could work on him too so he could be dusted.

“Shiggy, I’m back!”

Shiggy jumped as the door opened, his girlfriend casually walking in. “Dabi was being really- oh.” Juno stopped in her tracks as she closed the door. “O-oh hey! I didn’t know you’d be home so early uh- d-don’t look!” He quickly covered his body with his hands, not really covering much. “What’s wrong, love? Why are you covering yourself?” She chuckled. “Come on, Shiggy. Why are you hiding?” She stepped towards him, making him step back in fear. “I-I don’t want you looking at my body. It’s gross.” Tears threatened to fall again, the feeling of her eyes on his nude body making him queasy.

Juno sighed softly. “You don’t like being naked in front of me. And even when you are, you turn the lights off. Is this why?” Tears streamed down his face as he nodded, looking away in shame. She gently grabbed his hands, pulling them off his body. “Your body is beautiful, Shiggy.” His cheeks were stained pink, whether from embarrassment or shame, he couldn’t tell. He chewed on his bottom lip, insecurities swirling around in his head.

Tomura and Juno had been together for a little over a year already, but he never showed her his nude body. She never even saw him half naked. Her opinion mattered to him more than anything, and the fear of her having a negative opinion on the way he looked was almost debilitating. He would take extra precautions to make sure his body wasn’t shown, even when they were making love. She seemed to be understanding, never pressuring him into stripping. Even on the days he craved skin-to-skin contact, she respected his decision to keep the lights off. The nudeness wouldn’t last for long though, as he’d put his clothes back on right after he came off his sexual high.

Shiggy mentally beat himself up for getting caught in such a vulnerable state, a slip of judgement leaving him exposed, literally and figuratively. He wanted to disappear, too afraid to hear or see her reaction to him. His body trembled softly as she tucked her finger under his chin, turning his head to look at her. “Did you hear me? You’re beautiful. I don’t think you’re gross. You’re amazing.” An honest smile graced her face, the expression just barely melting away his shame.

Shiggy sniffled as Juno wiped his tears. “Here, I’ll help you put on your lotion.” He quickly shook his head as he backed out of her hold. “N-no, I’ve got it, don’t worry. I can do it myself.” She ignored his statements and grabbed the lotion, gathering some in her hand. He went to protest, but the words died in his throat as she rubbed the lotion on his neck and chest, hands gently massaging the skin as she did so. “No wonder you always smell so good.” She mused, the smell of cocoa butter on her hands and his body.

“J-Juno…” Shiggy whispered as she continued lathering his skin, complimenting him as she did so, making his face burn red. “This big, warm chest.” She placed a kiss on a little scar between his pecs. “I love listening to your heartbeat when we cuddle.” She rubbed lotion down his stomach and sides. “Your body is your story, baby. Every scar, every taut muscle, it all tells a story of what made you who you are.” She peppered kisses along a big scar on his side, her hands trailing to his hips. “Every time I’d feel your bare skin, I would think about how you would look. And you’re better than I imagined.”

Shiggy lifted his fist to his mouth, gently biting down on it as Juno kissed along his body, all while massaging his skin. His cheeks burned hot as she complimented every area she touched, the praise igniting a fire in his core. He softly gasped as she playfully nipped a sensitive spot on his v-line, now on her knees. His cock twitched at the contact, choking when the head brushed against her chest. “Oh? Someone’s excited.” She teased, standing up to gently nudge him to the bed.

With a nervous grunt, Shiggy plopped down on the bed, hands fidgeting beside him as his lover spread his legs, his half-hard cock in her hand. A small moan slipped past his lips as she stroked him to full hardness. “You know, I’ve always loved how thick your thighs are.” She squeezed his thigh, digging her nails into the sensitive skin, making him twitch in her hold. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how amazing you are, Pretty Boy.” His eyes widened at the pet name. “P-Pretty Boy?” His skin tingled as the name rolled off his tongue.

Juno hummed in acknowledgement. “You’re my Pretty Boy. You’re so handsome and I’ll remind you of that until you believe it yourself.” He gasped silently as she engulfed his length in her mouth, her fist gripping what she couldn’t fit. “O-Oh God, y-you really went for it~” He breathed, placing four cautious fingers on her head. She sucked his cock down in earnest but took her time pleasuring him, drawing out his moans.

“Juno~” Shiggy moaned out, watching her bob her head on his erection, spit gathering on her hand and dripping down her chin. Her tongue pressed flat against the vein on the underside of his cock, the head slipping down her throat as she gagged softly around it. She pulled off his member with a soft pop, saliva still connecting her to it, the sight alone damn near making him cum. “Your cock is so big, it barely fits down my throat~” She cooed, stroking his spit-soaked length. He looked down at her with half lidded eyes, pupils blown in lust, a thin layer of sweat sticking his hair to his face. His lips were slightly parted, little moans spilling out with every stroke on his cock. “You look so adorable, Pretty Boy~ That submissive expression on your face is to die for~” “K-keep sucking my cock, please.” He mumbled while he tugged on her hair, trying to push her closer.

Juno chuckled softly, placing a little kiss on the tip of Shiggy’s cock. “Patience, Pretty Boy. I have so much more planned for you. Lie back.” With a whine, Shiggy obeyed and shifted to the middle of the bed, laying back. He saw her arm stretch into the dresser, confusion stirring until he suddenly realized what she was reaching for. “N-no, don’t tell me you-”

“I am. We haven’t done it in a while. This is the perfect opportunity to do it again, only this time I get to see you.” Juno said calmly, her arm coming back to set a strap-on and lube on the bed beside him. “Spread yourself for me, Pretty Boy.” Shiggy looked away, a defiant pout on his lips. “I said,” she popped his thigh, making him yelp, “spread yourself. You know what do to.” He gulped hard as he spread his legs, hooking his hands under his knees. “Good boy~” She praised as she stripped her clothes off. Shiggy stared up at the ceiling in embarrassment.

“A-ah!” Shiggy cried out softly he felt a lubed finger slip into his hole, making him squirm. Juno experimentally wiggled her finger. “Does it hurt?” “A-a little.” He closed his eyes as she slowly moved her finger, stinging pain melting into pleasure as she nipped down his thigh, trying to get him to relax. His toes wiggled as the odd sensation sent shivers up his spine, hot puffs of breath coming past his lips.

Shiggy’s mouth hung open in a quiet gasp as his lover chomped down on a sensitive spot on his thigh, using it as a distraction and adding a second digit, scissoring them inside him. “You’re being such a good boy, you know. You’re taking my fingers so well~” Juno kissed the bite, his skin quickly blossoming purple. Her words made his cock ache, the overwhelming praise setting his skin ablaze. Hearing her casually compliment his face was already embarrassing enough. But hearing her compliment his body, the skin he grew to hate, was intense. It was so overwhelming that he didn’t know what to do with himself, his love for Juno and the embarrassment of being exposed swirling in his chest.

Shiggy whined softly as she missed his prostate over and over. “Y-you’re doing that o-on purpose.” He huffed, locking eyes with her. The expression on her face made his stomach drop. An innocent smile graced her lips, but her pupils were blown with lust, desire and passion burning in her eyes. “Doing what on purpose? This?” She missed again, making him groan. “Oh, sorry, am I missing something?” She batted her eyelashes, placing wet kisses down his thigh, stopping to nibble at the sweet spot on his hip. Shiggy’s brows furrowed together as he rutted on her fingers, letting out a small cry when he ground her fingers on his prostate.

“Is that what you wanted, Pretty Boy? Be a good boy and use your words more next time~” Juno curled her fingers against his prostate, teasing it until he quivered in pleasure. His legs threatened to close as the feeling became almost too much to handle, a part of him wanting to run away from her fingers. “Look at how much you’re shaking, you’re close, aren’t you~?” Shiggy nodded frantically, letting out a frustrated growl when she stilled her hand. “Use your words, Pretty Boy~” She teased.

“P-please don’t stop,” Shiggy begged, “I’m so close, please make me cum-ah~!” He choked on his words as Juno picked her pace back up, making his back arch in pleasure. “F-fuck~!” His hips bucked as he came, ropes of white covering his chest and stomach. He panted heavily as Juno pulled her fingers out, casually grabbing the strap-on as she talked. “Your cum looks so nice on your skin, Pretty Boy. And that look on your face is so precious.” He gazed at the ceiling through clouded eyes, reality not catching up yet. “A-am I really that nice to look at…?” He wondered, insecurity coming back to rip him from his high. “Of course, Shiggy. I love how you look.”

Shiggy sighed as he let go of his legs, closing them and hugging his arms. “Why, though…How is it you can love my body so easily, but I can’t…” He gasped softly as he was wrapped in his lover’s stretched arms, picking him up and placing him on his knees. “I’ll show you how.” She gently pushed him over, reality finally hitting him. “W-wait I-I don’t think I’m ready!” He uttered nervously. “Do you trust me, Pretty Boy?” Juno asked, rubbing his lower back.” Stuffing his face into the blanket, he nodded, wincing as she entered him, the tight ring of muscle stretching around the dildo.

Shiggy let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Juno bottomed out. “Holy shit.” He panted softly. Juno leaned forward to thread her fingers through his hair, a gentle smile forming on his lips at the passionate gesture. “You ready?” She asked, massaging his scalp soothingly. “Yeah.” He whispered. “Good.”

Without warning, Juno gripped his hair, yanking him up. Shiggy cried out in pain. “Be a good boy and look at yourself while I fuck you~” She growled in his ear, slowly pulling out and slamming the strap-on into him. He moaned loudly, mouth falling open as he looked at himself in the mirror. Humiliation crawled up his spine at the sight of himself being spread by Juno, wet squelching and slapping skin meeting his lewd sounds in the room.

“Look at yourself, Shiggy. Look at how adorable you look impaled on this cock. Look at how your legs shake, look at that sexy expression! You’re so handsome, darling~” She giggled in his ear as she pounded his prostate, his tongue lolling out. “Aren’t you so cute? Tell me how cute you are, Pretty Boy~”

“I-I- ah- I l-look really- mm- c-cute,” Shiggy stuttered, “s-so- ah fuck- cute on your c-cock. D-don’t stop, please~!” He stared holes into the mirror, forcing his eyes to roam his body in the reflection. “Touch yourself for me, Pretty Boy. I want you to watch yourself get off~” He nodded, feverishly stroking his cock in sync with her thrusts. “Are you watching, my good boy?” Juno slapped his ass, making him jump slightly. “Yes, I-I’m looking a-at myself~!” Shiggy panted, moans bordering on screams of pleasure as he chased his orgasm.

“You look like you’re so ready to cum, I bet your cock is throbbing, aching for release, so go ahead.” Juno pulled him closer, biting down on his neck. “Cum for me Tenko~”

The sound of his real name on her lips sent him over the edge, stars exploding behind his eyes as his body spasmed. An amalgamation of incoherent swears spilled between his moans as his cum spilled onto the blanket, mixing with the puddle of drool below him. He whined softly as he came down from his intense orgasm, tears of pleasure streaming down his face, aggressively trembling as his tired body struggled to keep itself up.

“What a good boy I have.” Juno let him go, his body collapsing face first into the blanket. She pulled out, taking the harness off and setting it to the side as she rubbed his back, his body still twitching. He weakly rolled to his side, looking at his lover through exhausted lids. “Wow…” He croaked, voice dry and raspy. She chuckled softly, laying beside him. “Sorry, was that too rough?” She cupped his face as he shook his head. “It was intense, but it was good.” He snuggled up to her, resting his head between her breasts.

Juno hummed softly as she rubbed his sore scalp. “You really do have a nice body, Tenko. You look perfect to me.” He stuffed his face deeper into her chest at her words, the use of his real name making him feel more embarrassed. “I’ll tell you how amazing your body is as many times as possible until you see what I see, okay? I know today was an accident, but maybe we can work on you having less clothes on around me?” She tapped his cheek, scooting back so he could look up at her.

Shiggy nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.” Juno smiled, pulling him into a kiss. “Good.” She mumbled against his lips. He hummed into the kiss, pressing her body closer as his tongue explored her mouth. She moaned into his mouth as he sucked on her tongue, running his hand down her back and resting it against her ass.

Juno pulled away with a giggle. “Hey, keep doing that and we’ll have to go another round.” Shiggy shook his head. “I can’t even feel my legs, there’s no way in hell we’re going again. I’ll stop.” He pressed her forehead against his, eyes shutting. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Juno replied, peppering his nose in little kisses as he fell asleep.

#bnha smut #mha smut #tomura shiragaki #tomura smut #shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki smut #shiggy #shiggy smut #tomura x oc #shigaraki x oc #Shiggy x oc #tenko shimura #Astreaus writes #starry fics

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years

Text

History

Pair: Hermione Granger x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Hermione swore she would hate Slytherins since Draco Malfoys blonde self rolled into town, but your relentless flirting and charming smile causes her to feel stuff.

Warnings: Swears, bad flirting.

Notes: Slytherin!Reader, cute request. Probably super late and probably super crummy-

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

"Hello, Granger!” You flashed her your best smile, your arms crossing over the table. She turned to you with a raised eyebrow, lacking all hint of the grin she held just moments before you sat beside you. “What? Did I interrupt something important?” You knew you interrupted her read, of course you did. This was the only time she was ever away from Strawberry Shortcake and Boy Wonder. Maybe they were allergic to studying?

“What are you doing here, (L/n)?” Your last name rolled off her tongue with grace, making your heart skip a beat or two. She turned back to her book, her now dull eyes trailing down the page at an impressive rate. Her voice was colder than a Dementors heart, but that didn’t kill your mood a lick.

“Well, I just wanted to chat! See how your day is going, maybe ask if you need help with whatever you're currently studying.” You slid the book closer to you, effectively causing her to lose her place. You lifted one end to check the cover. “Muggle history, huh? Didn’t take you for the type.”

“First of all, it’s none of your business what I’m studying or how my day went. Second, don’t touch my book,” she yanked it back and held it to her chest before standing up, “and finally, leave me alone.” She pushed her seat in, giving you the cold shoulder as she walked toward the exit of the library.

“Alrighty then, Granger! I’ll just see ya tomorrow!” Your cheery voice made her groan in dread. You weren’t going to get all gloomy just because she didn’t want to see you right away. You knew you would have to warm her up and you kept to your word, sitting next to her the next day at the library. She was only closed off toward you because some idiots can’t keep their bloody mouths shut. That, and you were a pure-blood that wore the green and silver tie.

Slytherins got hate, more than other houses. They always got a bad wrap because someone had to open their mouth and say some of the dumbest stuff imaginable that gave perfectly normal and rational people bad reputations. That someone was named Draco Malfoy. It wasn’t like they could lock him up and pretend he was in literally any other house, they tried. It didn’t work. Maybe if Draco kept his mouth shut, you wouldn’t stay up so late at night, cursing the color of your tie. Scratch that, you probably could’ve been the golden Trios friend, maybe just Hermione’s.

The brunette had caught your eye. She was rather pretty. And rather smart. And sassy. And strong. And- Ok, so she was a lot of things and you liked her and that’s fine! Perfectly fine. You'd accepted how you felt about the witch a while ago. Only problem was the way she viewed the house you were sorted into. You were a Slytherin, which explained all the tension. But you didn’t want it there.

Over time, you longed to be near her. You wanted to hold wants with her and make her laugh and watch her eyes sparkle with emotions reserved for only you. So, you decided you'd try to change her perception on the green and silver themed house and the people who were sorted into it, which led you to now. You’d been doing this for a few days now, just saying hi to her, her friends and just trying to be polite.

You left the library, quickly finding no other reason to stay there. Walking down the bustling halls, you ignored the glares you got from all around you. People would always look at others and see the color of their robes before the person themselves and it was beyond frustrating, but you managed to win a few over, like Cedric and Cho and, somehow, Harry Potter himself. That’s how you knew you’d win her over. Once people got to know you, they learned you were very down to earth, very not stereotypical Slytherin, and most found you charming with a splash of witty.

So, you kept up the routine of seeing her every day at the library, trying your best to make small talk and change her mind. What Hermione kept to herself was that she promised to do anything but fall for you. She tried her hardest not to let you in. She tried her best to not blush over your cheesy flirts and genuine compliments. Her and Ron thought you were a spy for Draco- Harry knew better.

It had been a week since that encounter with muggle history and pure sass and she was starting to open up to you. It was evident by how her eyes would shimmer at you too, instead of just her friends, but now you. You’d managed to turn her a soft pink with a simple wink. It was so refreshing to see her smile everyday, which led you to actively seeking her out in the hallways. You didn’t find her in the hallways, though. She was outside, in the courtyard sitting between Harry and Ron, no surprise there. You scurried over, waving enthusiastically to the trio, to which you received two waves and a simple nod- Ron still didn’t trust you.

“Hello, boys! Hermione. How are you doing this evening?” You asked, a smile spreading across your face as Hermione’s cheeks turned pink, like usual nowadays. You sat down on the ground in front of them, not worrying about the dirt that would cover your dark uniform.

“Hi, (Y/n).” Harry spoke up first, reaching around Hermione to nudge Ron when he remained silent.

“Hi.” Oh, his voice just held excitement, didn’t it?

“Hello, (Y/n)! Are you here to return my textbook or do I have to pry it from your hands?” The brunette witch held her hand out, a cheeky smile across her lips. You ducked your head down, gazing at the cover of the muggle history textbook tucked under your arm and took in a breath through your breath.

“Ooh, I’m not sure, Granger. Might have to take it from me.” You smirked at her, enjoying how her cheeks turned a brighter red. You let out a chuckle when she looked at you with a playful glare and handed the book over to her. “Alright, alright. I got the hint, love, relax.” You laughed a little harder when Ron dramatically rolled his eyes.

“Why did he have your book?” Harry turned to Hermione, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. She pulled the cover of the book to her chest.

"Well, he ruined his after the potions fiasco last week-"

"Hey!" you tried to cut her off, embarrassment quickly setting in.

"-when his potion turned green and literally climbed out of the cauldron."

"He gave me bad instructions!" your voice kept falling on deaf ears as the trio snickered.

"Oh, right! I remember that!" Ron spoke up, snickering as your cheeks turned red.

"Didn’t it slide right off the table and fall into his bag and literally ate his muggle history book?" Harry covered his mouth as they all snickered at the event. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"It didn't eat my book!" You grumbled out as you looked down at the dirt. You used your finger to draw in the loose dirt as you pouted. "It burned right through it. Cost me a few galleons and a detention."

Hermione let out another giggle and rolled her eyes. She slipped a piece of her hair behind her ear and chewed on her lip.

"I know, which is why I let you borrow mine. Aw, come on! Don’t be like that, we’re just teasing. It’s what friends do.” She smiled at you again, but instead of smiling back, you just felt cold.

A shiver wracked down your spine as a freezing cold sensation spreading across your chest. The word ‘friend’ literally echoed in your head while the trio talked like you didn’t exist. She thought of you as a friend. The words made your heart physically ache and suddenly, you were worried you’d throw up, or scream. You watched the brunette nudge Ron on the shoulder, almost shoving him off the ledge of his seat and your head started hurting.

Why would she like you when she was surrounded by chivalrous Gryffindors who’d gladly take her anywhere she wanted to go. You were just a Slytherin. It probably didn’t matter how hard you tried, how nice you were, how many friends you had, you were still a Slytherin.

You looked down at your tie, chewing on your lip. Your eyes stung as your brain went on the tangent. Your brain stopped when you remembered what exactly was inside the book. The coldness in your chest seemed to triple. Your mind flickered to the night before, when you were studying in the library and decided enough was enough and wrote the female a poem that put Romeo and Juliet to shame. It may, or may not have even hinted at your feelings.

You felt a physical itch to get it back. You wanted to wipe the parchment clean, give it to your owl and send it to the ocean to drop it in, maybe even feed it to Scabbers- anything to get it out of her hands.

“Hermione!” Your loud shout interrupted the jokes flying back and forth between the friends, and, honestly, interrupted most of the conversations scattered across the courtyard. Your cold chest quickly flipped to burning hot as embarrassment set in. “Um.. I think I left some notes in your book.”

“Oh, did you?” She looked down at it, laying it cover side up on her lap before opening the cover.

“Yeah, but uh, don’t trouble yourself with finding it! I um- I can do it.” You reached for it, but she shifted the book so she was holding it by the spine.

“No, no, I got it.” The brunette witch dragged her thumb along the edge of the pages, allowing them to fall until she spotted the brownish parchment separating the gray faded pages. “Is this it?” She picked it up delicately, smiling at you. She noticed how your ears were bright red, how your hand was twitching just a few inches away from the book and how your eyes held dread- borderline panic within them.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, that’s.. That.” You chewed on your lip, refusing to meet her eyes. Hermione’s smile dropped a little. She wasn’t dumb, she knew what was going on. She looked down at the paper, noticing the semi-messy handwriting and a few doodles that had her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Her eyes skimmed across the pages of where said paper was trapped and noticed it was wedged between a few pages of a specific romantic drama.

“We went over Romeo and Juliet ages ago, (Y/n). Why are you re-reading it?” Her words had your entire face practically turning red and even Harry seemed to pick up on a clue. He stood up and grabbed Ron by the hood of the robes, literally dragging the now shouting red-head away to give you some speckle of privacy.

While you stammered out a response, her eyes flicked down to the brown parchment again. You panicked. You grabbed her wrist and tried to take it from her before she could read it, but you ended up, pushing her off her seat and landing on the floor with a thud. You fell on top of her, your hand pinning her wrist with the parchment beside her head while you basically straddled over her waist.

“Oh, bollocks. Sorry, I’m sorry.” You stammered, letting go of her wrist. “I am so sorry. I just- I didn’t want you to read the poem and think I’m some idiot and like, slap me?” Your eyes looked into hers and that was when you noticed how bright her face. It was a stark contrast against her tie, but not by much. Her cheeks were a bright pink and her lips were hanging open ever so slightly. You got lost in her eyes for a brief moment.

Once you snapped out of it, you practically jumped off the young witch and helped her up. You brushed off her robes and fixed her tie that became crooked and flashed her an awkward, but apologetic smile.

“It’s ok.” Her voice was softer than a whisper. Her hand rubbed the wrist that still held the poem, her eyes casting down to it before looking back up in confusion again. “Wait, you said poem.”

“I did?”

“You told me they were notes, (L/n).”

You swallowed thickly at the mention of your last name. It’d been a good few weeks since she called you that and you were worried you were back at square one. You let out a shaky sigh, nodding your head.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just..” Your sentence trailed off. She was reading over the poem now, so you found explaining it useless. You fiddled with your own robes, dusting them off while she read.

“A night in the star freckled skies or a day below the deep blue lakes, cannot hold a twinkling diamond nor elegant magpies toward your beauty that overtakes.” She read out loud while you cringed. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the best, but you tried. “What’s this all about?” You expected her to glare at you that promised hexing, but you were met with a look one could almost confuse with love sickness.

“Ah, well.. I.. Kinda.. I fancy you.” You squeezed your eyes tight, waiting for the stinging of a slap to meet your cheek, instead you were met with a bunch of giggles. You slowly opened your eyes to look at her. She was covering her face with the paper. “Hermione?” You whispered. Was she laughing at you?

“It’s about time you realized that!” She moved the paper, folding it perfectly and sliding it into her robe pocket. Your jaw dropped to the floor, a clear expression of confusion across your still warm face. “It’s been so obvious!” She was giggling again.

“Wait, so you knew?!” You screeched out, your voice vanishing in the middle. It wasn’t like you didn't know since the bloody beginning that you liked the witch, you just had no idea it was so obvious.

“Of course I did! The winks, the cute nicknames, the obvious attempts to be near me- oh and Harry told me.” She counted on her fingers. The witch looked up when you didn’t respond and stepped forward. “Don’t worry, (Y/n). I fancy you too.” Hermione cupped your cheek with her free hand and landed a kiss to the other one.

“Was it the poem?” You squeaked out, quickly bending down on one knee to pick up the abandoned textbook before standing back up. You winced at the floor as your voice echoed in the now empty courtyard, but smiled a little when Hermione let out a snort.

“It was the flirting, the kindness, the poem and then some.”

“Oh.. So, date? This Friday? I could take you to the Quidditch game?” You rubbed the back of your neck, holding the history book out for her. Your smile turned into a wider on filled with hope as she contemplated her answer.

“You do know the game is Gryffindor vs Slytherin, right?”

“Of course I know. I’m not a dummy.” You held your arm out for her. Your heart skipped a beat when her arm wrapped around yours. You began leading her down the hallway, straight to the library.

“Then yes, I’d love to go.” Hermione leaned into you, her own captivating grin clear as day. The two of you ignored the puzzled glanced from across the student filled corridors as you passed. It was strange to see a Gryffindor and a Slytherin so close to each other.

“It’s a date then! I can’t wait.” You spoke as you separated from her. You hurried to the library door, holding the entrance open and letting the brunette witch go in first. You trailed after her, grinning as you hurried back to her side. “I bet the fist fight with Malfoy really did it.”

“I will not confirm that.”

“I knew it!”

“Hush!”

“Sorry, love. Just excited we got the history out of the way.”

#hp x male reader #hp imagine #hermione granger x male reader #hermione granger imagine #hermione granger #x male reader #male reader #ron weasley #harry potter #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

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americasmarauders · 4 years

Text

I Had a Dream--Jason ToddxReader.

Summary: She dreamed about him once. And then he appeared in front of her and she just couldn’t believe it.

words: 9,756

author’s note: so, here it is. the last of this year. this one is special. it’s based on a dream i had with a guy I went to middle school with. I mentioned it on the group chat and @batarella said this sounds like a fic, write it. and so I did. It’s immensely personal. Basically reader is me, the friends I mention are my actual friends and the coversations with the therapist are vaguely based on conversations I had with my own therapist (specially the first one). I hope y’all like it. I had a blast writing it. Special thanks to my best friend Julia and @offendedfishnoises for proofreading it. Also thanks to every one in the group chat who cheared me on and made me finish this monster.

don’t forget to check out my jason playlist here. also. please reblog so more people can see the fic :)

“I just haven’t had the opportunity to be in love, I guess,” she explained, her psychologist writing stuff she had said down.

“Is that so?” the therapist lifted her eyes, her eyebrows shot up in confusion.

“Yeah,” she shrugged.

“‘Cause the way I see it is you’ve never allowed yourself to fall in love,” the therapist commented.

She felt heat coming to her cheeks and tears rise in her eyes. “No, no, that’s not like that,” she whispered, refusing to admit that her psychologist was right.

The therapist let out a small sigh. “Have you had crushes when you were a kid?”

She shook her head. “The boys weren’t that nice and…” she drifted off, thinking of a couple of crushes she might have developed when she was a young teen. “No boys were interested in me.”

“I find that hard to believe, Y/N,” the therapist said. “Let’s think of it this way: were there any boys who picked on you?”

She snorted. “Plenty,” she responded. “I wasn’t exactly popular in middle school,” she shrugged.

“Yes, yes, I remember,” the psychologist said.

“There was one boy that used to run around recess calling me a weird nickname he had for me: peanut.”

“That’s not weird,” the therapist pondered.

“It is when you’re 13 and you love eating packed peanuts in recess,” she countered.

“Well, this boy did you like him?” the therapist asked.

“Yeah, he was nice,” she omitted that she had a crush on him in ninth grade before she left the school and never saw him again. “He was one of the few boys that talked to me without wanting me to help him with his homework or anything.

“I remember one day in eight grade he stopped to talk to me before class but I was kinda rude to him and he never really talked to me again,” she shrugged.

“Why?” the psychologist quizzed.

“I thought he wanted something out of me,” she sniffed, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. “They all wanted something out of me. It was safe to assume, I guess.”

“You scared the boy away, Y/N,” the therapist said kindly. “I think that boy liked you,” she finished.

“No, no, Todd, he--” she shook her head negatively, “he was kinda popular, I was a nobody. He didn’t like me.”

“He liked you, Y/N.”

That conversation stayed in her head for days. The words of her therapist echoing in her head. You scared the boy away. The truth was: she had scared the boy away. It was heartbreaking to think that she could have had what she wanted, a romance, someone to hold and to be held by. Instead she was alone, an adult who had never even dated anyone for that matter.

It wasn’t just that boy from middle school. It was every boy that ever tried getting too close to her. It would be comical if it wasn’t so tragic. A romantic at heart, completely alone. Thank god she had her friends.

She hadn’t thought about Jason Todd in years. He hadn’t so much as graced her thoughts since she last saw him in ninth grade. Then she dreamt of him. And things started to change.

In her dreams she was his girlfriend. He was loving, he would caress her delicately, look into her eyes lovingly as if he was seeing the whole world in her eyes. He would kiss her tenderly, she could feel his lips when she woke up.

He had gotten so big in her dreams, even more handsome than he was when he was 15. Jason was a lanky and tiny kid, but somehow her brain imagined him tall--very tall--and very muscular. His eyes were green, and not the blue she remembered. He looked beautiful and waking up after the dream, she could feel her heart race.

After she dreamed about him the first time, she dismissed it. It was her brain making weird connections, it made sense: she had talked about her pseudo-love life and about him that week. But after the second dream she knew there was something wrong.

She decided to look him up on the internet. What appeared wasn’t something she liked.

News coverage about how he had died mysteriously. ‘Adopted son of Bruce Wayne dies at age 16.’ She couldn’t help but tear up a bit on those headlines. The most recent ones though reported him being wrongfully declared dead and how he was estranged from his family. It even showed a couple of pictures of him and she was surprised to see her dreams were not very far off.

Other than a couple of tabloid headlines, there was no trace of this guy on the internet. He was almost a ghost story, and she felt her heart beating faster in anxiety. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for him.

She otherwise forgot about him--other than the occasional thought about what if that would cross her mind. That is, until she literally stumbled into him.

A part time job to help with the finances, that’s what working in the bookshop was supposed to be. It would help pay tuition and her insurance. Her parents had said that she didn’t need to do it, they could pay and it wouldn’t even make a dent in their bank account. But it wasn’t for them, it was for herself, a sense of achievement.

It was supposed to be just that. No meet cutes, no falling in love in a bookshop, just boring old work. Work for half of the afternoon, close up, get her salary and move on with her life.

The shop was quiet that day. No one had come in to buy or even browse anything. It didn’t really bother her. She occupied herself with other things: homework, studying, drawing, texting her friends, the list was endless. She was so engrossed in her drawing, she didn’t even hear the bell ringing and the door opening.

She heard someone clear their throat and she looked up from her drawing to meet their eyes. She gaped a bit as she met his gaze, intense blue eyes meeting hers. She closed her mouth quickly, trying to cover the fact that she was clearly staring at him. The gods must be really enjoying themselves playing with her life like that. Of course, she thought, of course that he would fucking appear in her life like that: out of nowhere. The one day she had a calm evening and Jason Todd, the guy who was haunting her dreams and thoughts like a ghost, appears.

“May I help you?” she asked, professionally, ignoring her racing heart and the anxiety increasing in the pit of her stomach.

“Yes,” he replied. “I’m lookin’ for the complete H.P. Lovecraft collection. I stopped by the other day and a guy separated it for me,” he explained. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, and she hoped that he hadn’t recognized her.

“Oh,” she said. “Wait a moment, I’ll check if it’s in the back.”

She walked controlled, to mask the fact that she wanted to run out of that place as fast as she could.

She closed the inventory door and leaned her back against it. She breathed heavily, trying to calm herself. It was only a guy, she had talked to plenty of guys before. She calmed herself down, steadying her breathing.

She glanced around the shelves looking for his book. The sooner she ended this the better. She could move on with her life without his face haunting her. She found the book (almost like a brick). She got it and took a deep breath before stepping out of the inventory and calmly walking to the front desk.

He stood there calmly , his eyes glancing around the shop. He had picked another book to buy, something significantly smaller than Lovecraft's collection. She itched to see what it was, before catching herself and stopping her curiosity. She couldn't get attached, even if just a little bit.

"Here," she said, resting the book on the counter. She smiled at him kindly, her hand open for the book resting in his hands. He handed it to her, confusion plastered on his face.

"It's 60 dollars," she stated, calmly and controlled.

He handed her the money. She accepted it and packed his books neatly. He clocked her moves as she did so, she felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" He asked. "I feel like I know you."

She gulped imperceptibly. So he had recognized her. Goddammit. "I don't think so," she replied, hesitant on whether or not he would see right through her lie.

He hummed. His eyes then shifted down to her name tag, and she knew he had put the pieces together. "Did we go to school together?" He insisted.

She smiled tightly. "I don't know, probably," she shrugged. "I went to a pretty big school, there were a lot of people there," a lie. Gotham Academy was big, but it was nowhere near as big as she made it sound. It was the kind of school where you knew everyone, even if you had never talked to them.

He smiled at her coyly, sensing her awkwardness. Maybe it was just that that made him finally remember her, or maybe not. Either way she did not like that he indeed recognized her fully. "I remember you," he trailed off. "We had English together," he stated.

She pretended to search her memory for him. She couldn't give away that just days before she had dreamed about him yet again. How pathetic, dreaming about a boy from middle school. "Oh yeah," she dragged. "Jason, right?"

"That's me," he whispered. "I thought you had moved."

She smiled, it was cute that he remembered enough of her to know that she didn't stay in Gotham for a couple of years. "I did move," she explained. "I came back for college."

"Why?" He asked, confused by her statement. "Gotham is a shit city, you should've stayed elsewhere."

She tried not to take offense to it. "It has its appeal," she shrugged. "Besides the science program in Gotham U is very good, it was the best move."

Jason smirked. "Science huh?"

"Yeah," she breathed out. She slid the package to him, a sign that she maybe was done talking.

Thank the gods his phone rang. She couldn't handle anymore of that. She averted her attention once more to her drawing, his voice talking angrily on the phone only a background noise to her. "I gotta go," he said and her eyes went back to him. "It was good seeing you, Y/N."

She tried not to notice how her heart picked up the pace at the sound of her name leaving his lips. "You too," she smiled shyly and he left the store, the bell ringing as he closed the door and her mind plagued by the image of him.

If she thought Jason Todd had plagued her mind and dreams before she had seen him at the bookshop, now he was downright living in her head rent free. She just couldn’t get him out of her mind. The dreams about him, the ones where she would be tenderly loved by him, were getting more frequent and more intense. When she woke up, she would still feel his arms around her and an emptiness would settle in her chest.

Why did it have to happen to her? She just wanted to go through life unnoticed, why did the gods have to pull this prank on her?

She huffed as she closed the shop, the sky already dark enough to be considered dangerous to stay out. It was only a couple of blocks to her car, she could get through the walk unscathed, she had done it before.

But then again, it seemed that Fate had it out for her.

She could feel someone following her the moment she had left the shop. The looming presence of a threat made her hyper aware of everything, her heart beating out of her chest. She tried to think of ways to lose the guy--she assumed it was a guy, it usually was--but her mind came blank. She thought in passage if her friends would miss her, who would contact them if she were to die. She shook the thought quickly out of her head and hastened her pace.

But the guy gained on her, and as soon as she could blink, she felt his arm snake around her neck. She gasped for air desperately, clawing at his arm trying to take it off. It was then that she felt a cold metal press against her back. A gun. She felt the tears coming to her eyes. If the guy were to pull the trigger, the best case scenario was she wouldn’t be able to move her limbs anymore. The worst, well, who would tell her friends she had died in a robbery?

“Give me your bag,” the guy--now confirmed for his gruff and raspy voice--whispered in her ear.

“Please, take it,” she begged. “Don’t hurt me.”

She heard the guy scoff as he pressed the gun further on her back. She whimpered. “We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice laced with malice.

It was then she heard a loud bang coming from behind her. She thought the guy had pulled the trigger, and she was ready to feel the wetness of her blood sipping through her clothes. Instead, all she felt was a splash on her shoulder and his grip on her loosening considerably. The guy had fallen to the ground behind her, clutching his shoulder and screaming in pain. She turned around to see him and a pool of his own blood forming beneath him. She was paralyzed in fear of the sight.

“The police’re on their way,” a distorted voice sounded. She looked up and found a massive man, standing menacingly on top of the thieves body. His red helmet glinted in the moon’s glow. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly.

She breathed out. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I--I--,” she teared up again, “I would’ve died. You saved my life.”

“It’s what I do,” he shrugged. “I’ll walk you.”

“How about the…” she pointed towards the guy laying on the floor in pain.

“If he wants to live to see another day, he’ll stay exactly where he is,” he said, his voice serious and threatening.

“Shouldn’t I give the police a statement?” she whispered.

She swore she heard a chuckle of amusement through the voice disruptor he had in his helmet. “I have a video to prove he was tryin’ to rob you, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna,” he explained softly. “So, wanna lead the way?”

She looked down at her feet, nervous to look at him. She nodded and started to walk once again towards her car. He walked behind her respectfully, and she felt the difference between him and the robber. He wasn’t trying to get something out of her, and his large physique felt like there was a literal wall following her to her car.

It was a blink till she got to her car. Her hand rested on the door handle and she gave a deep breath, trying desperately to calm herself, trying to remember the breathing exercises her psychologist had taught her. She opened her mouth to say something to the Red Hood, her eyes searching for him next to her.

But he was gone. And what was left was just the memory of him in her mind.

“So how was your week?” her psychologist asked, sitting on her armchair, Y/N sitting cross-legged in front of her.

“Crazy,” she rolled her eyes in disbelief, her mouth quirking in a weird shape. “So much stuff happened.”

“Oh do tell,” the psychologist urged her.

She sighed, thinking where to begin. “Well, you remember the boy I told you about?”

“Yes, Jason wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” she popped. “He showed up at the store the other day.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was, honestly,” she replied breathily. “I didn’t even realize he had come in.”

“No way,” her therapist responded in disbelief. She seemed invested in the pranks the fates were pulling on her patient.

“I was too invested in my drawing, mind you,” she smiled. “It’s been weeks since I’ve done a decent piece of scribble so I was excited.”

“Yes, yes right,” her therapist acknowledged. “And how about Jason? Did you talk to him?”

“Briefly,” she responded. “I was hoping he wouldn’t recognize me, but he did.”

“What did he say?” she quizzed, making notes on her paper.

“He asked if he knew me, which I denied at first,” her psychologist looked at her angrily and she shrugged. “Then he finally placed me and asked what I was doing in Gotham. I answered, said I was in college. He said I should’ve stayed elsewhere ‘cause Gotham apparently sucks.”

“He isn’t wrong,” her therapist pondered.

“He isn’t but I like Gotham,” she shrugged once again.

“Did you get his number?” her therapist quizzed her.

“Nope,” she denied. “He left pretty quickly.”

“Why don’t I believe that?” the psychologist smiled.

“It’s true!” she laughed. “He answered a phone call, got angry at something I didn’t really understand and left pretty quickly.”

The therapist hummed. “You think you’ll see him again?”

“I don’t know,” she sniffed. “He got pretty big books when he appeared, I think it’ll be a while before he needs another.”

“You never know,” she conceded. “What if he does? Do you imagine what you would do?”

“I mean,” she trailed off, “what I want to do is talk to him and maybe ask for his number,” she finished coyly. “What I will do is be very weird and awkward and scare him off.”

“Y/N,” the therapist warned. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I know, I know,” she waved off. “I won’t do it. I’ll try to be friendly.”

“Good. What else happened this week?”

“Almost died,” she swallowed, nervously, “quite literally, I’m afraid.”

“What?”

“Was leaving the store, it was pretty early in the night, I think. And a guy got me by the neck and pressed his gun to my spine,” she recounted quietly. “I thought I would die.”

“But you didn’t,” her therapist comforted her. “What happened after?”

“The Red Hood showed up,” she sniffed. “Shot the guy in the shoulder and then knocked him out.”

“When did that happen?” her therapist’s voice was filled with worry.

“2 days ago,” she replied quietly.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” the psychologist cooed. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” she nodded, her eyes filled with tears that did not dare to spill. “The Red Hood was very gentle, he walked me to my car and made sure I was safe.”

“Uhum,” the therapist hummed, jotting down something. She always wondered what her therapist wrote down about her, but maybe it was for the best that she didn’t know what was written down.

“I did some research on him afterwards,” she diverted the subject out of her. “Turns out he’s very famous for protecting street kids.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically. “There’s a couple of stories going around social media of people who witnessed him, you know…” she trailed off. “He seems to look out for people in poorer neighborhoods. Like Crime Alley. He seems very active there,” she added.

“I didn’t know that,” the psychologist said.

“Yeah, you’d get mistaken by the bat symbol on his chest, but there’s very few reports of him getting involved in Batman-esque adventures.”

Her therapist laughed. “And what might those be?”

“You know,” she shrugged. “Aliens, psycho-clowns, riddles, those kinds of stuff. Although there are a couple of people that said he did have a crazy huge fight with Black Mask once, there doesn’t seem to be any other. If there is, he sure made a good job hiding it.”

“You seem very excited about this Red Hood,” the therapist noted.

“He was nice,” she shrugged once more. “And I’m thankful he does what he does. I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t,” she added quietly. “Literally.”

“Well, then we got to make sure you live your best life after this second chance you got granted.”

As soon as the words ‘what if you see him again’ left her therapist’s mouth, she knew she would see Jason Todd again. Because the Universe was out for her like that. It was only a matter of when.

Turns out ‘when’ was a week later after the first time she saw him. She concluded he was either a hoarder or a very fast reader. She hoped it would be the latter.

This time, she was paying attention. She was organizing the shelves calmly, and as odd as it seemed, that was the best part of her job. It eased her anxiety to know everything was where it was supposed to be.

She jumped at the sound of the bell, her heart beating faster and her mind racing at the worst case scenarios. But it was just him. And she was entirely relieved that it was just Jason. She settled the book that was about to go on the shelf--‘there you go Little Women, back to where you belong’--and got out from behind her hiding spot. “Hey, Jason,” she said and his eyes found hers.

He opened a smile that knocked the air out of her. “Oh hey,” he breathed out.

She swallowed her nerves down. She would make her therapist proud, goddammit. “How can I help you?” she asked, opening a smile she hoped it was charming.

“I finished the books I bought the other day,” he said, his face a tad bit nervous. Did she make him nervous? “Do you have any recommendations?” he finished, his hands shoved in his pockets, shifting his weight slightly.

“It depends what you’re looking for,” she trailed off, returning to behind the shelves. Her fingers trailed lightly over the spine of the books she had just organized. She heard him walk behind her accompanying her to wherever she intended to go. “What are you looking for?” she turned around to see him, and saw him gulp nervously.

“Romance,” he blurted out. “How about a romance?”

“Ummm,” she hummed, her eyes once more trailing over the spines of the books. “A love story or a real romantic type of book? You know with loads of self pity and drama. Or maybe just a very long and nice novel?”

He laughed airly. “Surprise me,” he teased, and it seemed all his nerves were gone.

She smirked. “Okay then.” She pulled a book off the shelf. It wasn’t a big book, it couldn’t be longer than 300 pages. She gave it to him. “Epitaph of a Small Winner,” she said. “A romance, a realist one but nevertheless a romance.”

He grabbed the book, looking tiny in his big hands. His fingers tracing the title delicately. “What is it about?”

“A dead person narrating their life and reflecting upon it,” she shrugged. “A very interesting read indeed, but you’d have to do a bit of research. It’s set in 1880s Brazil.”

“I’m okay with that,” he smiled looking at her. “Any more recs?”

“Not for now,” she smirked. “How else am I going to have you come back if I give all my recommendations at once?”

His smile faltered for a split second before taking permanent residence on his face. “Who’s to say I wouldn’t come back even if you did give me all your recommendations?”

She was left speechless. She felt heat coming up to her cheeks and he looked somewhat proud he left her flustered like that. “Well then, do make sure you come back after you’ve finished.”

“I will, Y/N.”

Jason didn’t know why he went back to the bookshop. He truly didn’t.

He wasn’t expecting to see her working there. He wasn’t expecting to see her at all, actually. He barely even remembered her from his middle school days. He vaguely remembered finding her pretty and he knew she was very smart. Other than that, she was basically a stranger to him. Just like that version of himself was a stranger to him now.

It was a surprise to say the least. She had grown up marvelously, from what he remembered at least. She wore glasses now, and in his opinion it only made her prettier. His breath caught in his throat just remembering the sight of her that first time. His brothers caught up in his behavioral shift, and teased him endlessly. Jason stopped that rather quickly: it’s easy when you’re bigger and more intimidating than them. It also helps that they’re desperately trying to maintain the thin and fragile relationship they had.

Jason wanted to say he hadn’t rushed to finish those books to see her again, but he did. He wanted to say he hadn’t rushed to read her recommendation, but he did. He finished it in a day. He wished he had read it sooner. Somehow he felt like that sometimes, a dead man narrating his own story. At least he was strikingly different from the protagonist. At least he wasn’t an asshole. Not most times anyways.

He went back to the shop the next day, around closing time--he realized they were closing early and he wondered if it had anything to do with the incident Y/N was involved in. He was sure she would be there. Something told him that she would. He got in, as quietly as he could. The store was empty, after all it was a Thursday afternoon. The door made the usual bell sound behind him, and Y/N appeared behind the shelves, her face stony.

“I finished it,” he said with a smile.

She smiled back at him, and his heart did a somersault. “That was fast, it is not an easy read.”

“Well, it was a very good book,” he pointed. “It’s easier when the book’s good.”

“What did you think of it?” she asked curiously.

“It’s very complex,” he began. “You want to believe Brás but he’s just so….”

“Insufferable?”

“Exactly. And he’s a hypocrite too. Which just drives me fucking nuts,” he ran his hands through his hair. “The parallels you can make to the present, though, are just… very daunting,” he added. “It’s impressive the guy wrote this stuff in the nineteenth century and...” he trailed off.

“Society hasn’t changed one bit since then,” she completed him, her eyes glinting. She was smiling pleasantly, and Jason found it confusing, after all they were talking about something entirely serious. “So, you here for another rec?” She changed the subject.

“If you have one, I’d like that,” he said sheepishly.

She smirked. “Let’s see,” she moved to behind the shelves once again, her eyes trailing the books expertely. “How about a nice little love story, huh?”

He shrugged, his heart beating harder in his chest. “Sure, why not.”

She smiled at him and took out a yellowish cover with a dagger drawn across it. The title was written in the middle of the cover in nice flowery letters. “It’s about a girl that has a special power. And she kinda is trained to be an assassin of sorts, and she is set to a quest with a prince that has the same gift as her. Kinda. But you get the gist.”

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded, his fingers trailing slightly over the title.

“It’s an YA novel so be kind to it,” she warned.

“I’ll be.”

They both made their way to the cash register. She was behind the counter when Jason’s phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and answered it without even looking at the caller. “Hello?” he said, trapping his phone between his shoulder and ear, to fish the money for the book out of his pocket.

“Is this Mr. Todd?” the person--a woman--said.

“Yes. Who’s speaking?” he asked. Jason could feel anxiety rising in his body and mind and he tried to push it down. Who the fuck was this person and, most importantly, how the fuck did she get his number?

“I’m Principal Genoise-Beckham, from Gotham Academy,” she explained. What kind of name was Genoise-Beckham? “I’m calling because of your brother Damian. He got into a fight during the end of the school hours and you’re the next on his contacts list.”

Jason sighed, a twinge of anger sounding through it. “So no one’s available?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr.Todd.”

Not even Alfred, and he knew that for a fact because Jason was the last on the contacts list. Bruce wouldn’t put him any higher, because Bruce doesn’t quite trust him. Not anymore. “I won’t have to sit through any meetings right?”

“No, Mr. Wayne already arranged one,” the principal said, tiredly.

“Tell the kid I’ll be there in 20 minutes,” and then he hung up.

She looked at him quizzically, his book neatly packaged in parcel paper with a nice little bow on top of it. “Is everything okay?” she asked, concerned.

“My brother got into a fight at the Academy and now I have to pick him up,” he said grumpily.

“Oh,” her face fell, and Jason felt guilty. “I hope your brother’s okay.”

“The little shit probably is,” he gritted through his teeth. He saw a twinge of sadness go through her expression. “Listen,” he started, “I really wanted to stay, but if I don’t pick him up, it’ll start a whole thing with my family and I…” he didn’t complete but he was sure she understood.

“It’s okay, Jay,” it was the first time she had called him by a nickname, and his heart beated faster at the sound. “I was about to close up anyways.”

“Oh,” he breathed. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her eyes a bit glossy.

He turned around, his book on his hands, when he heard a small ‘Wait’. Jason turned back to her, she was looking at her feet, maybe embarrassed that she had called him, maybe she just didn’t want him to go. He didn’t want to go either. “Can you give me a ride?” she asked. “I mean, I live pretty close to Gotham Academy, it wouldn’t be too much of a detour.”

His heart picked up the pace, and he fought a smile. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

She smiled at him. “Great,” she replied. “I just need to pick up my things and we can go.”

She was very quick. She turned the lights off of the entire store and returned to the front desk with a small backpack and a few notebooks in hand. She smiled at him. “Lead the way.”

Like the gentleman he was raised to be, he took the notebooks from her hands and led the way, Y/N only a few steps behind him. She fished out a key out of her pocket and locked the front door. She tied a chain around the doorknob in a very specific way that almost seemed like a sailor’s knot. She put a locket in the end of the chain, and dragged a metal door down, then locking it to the ground. It seemed excessive, but it was Gotham, and Jason knew first hand what the city was like.

They walked a few doors down. Jason’s car glistened in the fading sunlight. He was fucking proud of that car. He had fixed everything in it, he knew that machine inside out. He made it what it was, a beautiful and powerful car. It was one of the few things he had done he felt proud of it.

He unlocked the doors with the alarm--yes, a 1962 black Corvette with electronic alarm, he had done that--and he heard a gasp beside him. He turned to see Y/N and her eyes glistened with amazement. “What?” he asked, confused.

“You have a ‘62 Corvette?” she asked, shocked.

“Yeah,” he dragged, still confused.

“I fucking love this car,” she said completely ignoring him and getting closer to the car, analyzing it carefully. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It really is,” he got around it, looking at the street to see if there were any cars coming down. He then opened the door of his car and got in. “Get in,” he smiled at her.

She opened a beaming smile. She opened the door and sat on the passenger seat, her bag resting on her feet, her notebooks now on her lap, she noticed the roof of the car on--the better option for the approaching winter--the head rest he had added, the bright red color of the leather seats, and the original panel, even though she knew he most likely altered everything behind it. She looked like a little kid in it, and Jason could get used to the sight of her beside him.

He started the car and she squealed excitedly at the sound of the motor. He looked at her, a small smile on her face. “Is it the original motor?” she asked. “It doesn’t sound like it, it sounds electrical.”

“That’s ‘cause it is electrical,” he responded. “The original one was very poluent so I switched it.”

“That’s so cool,” she said, closing her eyes. Jason hinted she was trying to hear the sounds of the car, like someone you’d listen to music. “This is so cool,” she breathed out.

He hummed in amusement. “Never met someone who was as passionate about this car as me,” he noted.

“You didn’t meet people with good taste then,” she joked. “I’ve loved this car since I was a teen. Always wanted one, but I never had it in me to buy it.”

“I found this one in a junkyard basically,” he said. “It was in pretty good condition considering where it was. Spent a year tryin’ to fix it to the original conditions, gave up and then another year buildin’ it to what it is today.”

She looked at him, he noticed out of the corner of the eye, incredulously. “You’re so fucking cool, Jason,” she said. “You’re beyond cool, you’re just…” she trailed off. He looked at her quickly and she had a shy smile and she was looking at her hands.

“Thank you,” he thanked her. “People haven’t found me cool in,” he let out a breath, “forever.”

“Well, you haven’t been walking with very nice people then,” she said. “No offense to your friends, but you’re just… you’re special, Jay.”

And, fuck, did he love hearing that from her. She left him speechless. She turned to him and saw his stony expression--an expression of panic and chock, not of disgust as she thought--and she inhaled sharply. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” she said, desperately trying to correct her mistake. “I said too much. Forget I said anything, please,” she completed, smally.

“It’s okay, love,” he replied softly, the car stopping slowly at the intersection. He turned to her. He grabbed her hands, that were twisting nervously in her lap--a nervous tick he remembered noticing she had in school--and looked at her softly. “You’re fucking special too, Y/N.”

She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears. “I--” she hesitated. She smiled at him, sniffing and wiping her eyes with one of her hands, the other still intertwined in Jason’s. “Thank you,” she said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

He smiled at her. “I’m just saying the truth, love.”

That made her even more flustered. “You’re just being kind,” she said, shyly, looking at her hands entangled with his. She removed her hands of his, the traffic light turned green and Jason resumed driving the car.

“No, I’m not,” he denied her. “I’m telling you the truth. You’re special, and you’re amazing, Y/N.”

She shook her head in denial, her bottom lip trapped by her teeth. “I’m not all that great,” she whispered. “I’m pretty annoying in fact. You just haven’t seen it yet.”

“I don’t believe you. Why’d you think that?”

She shrugged. “When you spend your whole childhood and teenagedom hearing that you’re nothing but an annoying crybaby nerd, you start to believe it at some point.”

Jason swallowed tickly at her remark. He couldn’t believe what she had just said. “Who said that to you?”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to worry,” she replied, dismissing his concern. “It’s over now.”

“But it still hurts you,” he noted. He noticed how this could easily apply to him. How he easily would get worked up on the little things Bruce would mention and Jason would brush it, say it’s over, it doesn’t matter, when it clearly does. It fucking does.

She looked at her hands, and sniffed. “It’ll always hurt, I guess.”

Jason was rarely speechless. But, at that moment, he didn’t know what to say. Because he remembered hearing those things about her. He remembered people talking about her in that way, saying she was weird, and that they only talked to her when they needed help with homework. Admittedly, he never ever said those things about her--he didn’t even believe those things--but he never said a word to those who called her that. And that, arguably, was worse than saying those things.

He struggled to conciliate that guilt with the fact that he didn’t even feel like that boy--he wasn’t that boy anymore. That boy died by the hands of a clown. What had emerged from it was something entirely different. And yet, he still felt guilt over something he hadn’t done when he was that kid.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Jay,” she said, her hands finding his, on the gear shift. “You didn’t do anything.”

“But I--” he started, “I didn’t say anything about it. I knew about those things and I didn’t stop them.”

She looked at him, and he saw by the corner of his eye. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m sure you were going through other stuff and you just wanted to fit in.”

How was she so fucking understanding? He scoffed lightly. The thing is: he wasn’t trying to fit in, he was trying to stay out of sight. So he just listened and said nothing. “How are you so good?” He said, incredulously. He was the first person to say Gotham was rotten, head to toe, and yet there she was, fucking pure soul.

“I guess I just am,” she shrugged.

And then they fell in a comfortable silence. Her hand was still in his, and he fought the urge to bring her knuckles to his lips and plant a kiss on it. Every now and then he would steal glances at her, and he swore she was glowing in the orange sunlight peaking in the window.

“That’s me,” she said, pointing to a tall modern building a block before Gotham Academy.

“That’s a big fancy building,” he noted slowly.

“It’s one of my parents’ apartments,” she explained. “I live in it rent free, but I have to pay for electricity and food and stuff. It was the condition for using it. They insisted they’d pay the tuition and I demanded this apartment in return, ‘cause I wanted to pay the tuition and they wanted to--” she trailed off noticing a weird look in his eyes. “I’m sorry I ranted.”

“It’s fine, I like to hear you talk,” he said, smiling.

She smiled back, looking at her feet. “Well, I should get going,” she said opening the car door. “Thanks for the ride, Jason.”

“No problem, love,” he shook his head slightly, and looked at her softly.

“Yeah,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on his, already out of the car. “Bye,” she finished awkwardly and quickly walked to the building.

Jason watched as she floated to her home, mesmerized by her.

Fuck.

“Red Hood has been following me,” she manifested her psychologist looking at her with wide eyes. “It’s weird to say it out loud.”

“Why do you say that?” her psychologist asked.

“‘Cause I’ve seen him,” she replied. “A couple of times actually.”

“Are you sure?” the therapist asked.

“Yes, I am,” she nodded enthusiastically. “I just don’t get why he’s following me.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be a good guy?” her therapist quizzed. “Following people doesn’t seem like a good guy thing to do.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m not scared though. I know I should be, but I’m not,” she commented. “I know I haven’t done anything wrong, there's no reason for him to be following me, at least no reason like that. I don’t know,” she sighed, “maybe he just wants to be my guardian angel,” she shrugged.

“It sure is a weird angel,” the therapist noted. “Have you talked about this with Jason?”

“I did mention it to him,” she nodded. “But he got all weird about it and changed the subject quickly.”

“That’s strange.”

“Yeah, he definitely knows something about this,” she said smugly. “I really want to find out.”

“Well, on the topic of Jason,” her therapist said as if she hadn’t brought him up, “how’s things with him?”

“They’re okay,” she shrugged. “He comes to see me at work almost every day. Then he walks me to my car or gives me a ride home.”

“I see,” the psychologist noted. “And what do you guys talk about?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled under her breath. “Mostly about books. Sometimes about life,” she recounted. “He’s very reserved. He doesn’t talk much about himself.”

“And you? Do you talk about yourself?”

She hesitated. There was no point in lying to her therapist, it would go against the very definition of therapy and if there was one thing she hated was hypocrisy. “No,” she shook her head quietly, “I-- everytime I try, something happens and…” she shrugged. “I guess I’m too scared of scaring him off.”

“Y/N…” the therapist warned. “You need to open up to him. How do you expect him to stick around if you don’t share things about you?”

“To be fair,” she said raising her finger as if it would make the point she was about to make more believable, “I’ve talked about myself once with him and it was… fuck, it was hard.”

“How did he react?” the therapist inquired. “Was he a dick?”

“No!” she was quick to reply. “He was the sweetest. But I’m just…”

“Depriving yourself of a potential relationship,” her therapist completed for her. “You’re sabotaging yourself, Y/N.”

“No, I’m not,” she denied, fooling herself. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up and end up heartbroken.”

The psychologist sighed. “I know you’re scared of getting hurt, but you’ll never know unless you let him in,” the therapist stated. “You might be pushing him away and sabotaging yourself when investing in this relationship could very well be something right for you,” she finished.

“I know,” she mumbled. “But I just,” she sighed, defeated. “I’m scared.”

“I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to try,” her therapist added softly.

“Okay,” she nodded, softly.

She waited at the edge of her seat for Jason to come in at the store. She was going to try. Fuck, she hoped she didn’t mess anything up. Up until that moment she didn’t know what she was doing, she just did it. She hoped she knew what she was about to do.

The bell rang and Jason walked in, his hair swept by the chilly wind and his hands stuffed in his jeans’ pockets. He wore that leather jacket she loved so much, it made him so much more beautiful. She just wanted to grab him by his shirt and kiss him to no end. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

“I was waiting for you,” she announced happily.

“Yeah?” he said, leaning on his elbows. His face was inches away from hers. His pupils were blown wide, his blue eyes twinkling with something she couldn’t quite place yet. “Excited for the next rec, huh?” he smirked.

“No, actually,” she corrected him. “I needed to tell you something.”

“Oh,” he said. “Go ahead then, I’m all yours.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her heart racing at his comment. She swallowed nervously, looking him in the eye. This was it. She was going to open up to him. “I was talking to my therapist actually,” she started, “and we agreed--actually no,” she laughed. “She said that I need to open up and be vulnerable more. And it may seem a bit weird that I’m saying this to you but I swear there’s a reason. So here it goes,” she breathed out. “I really like you, Jay. Like, really really like you. And I’m sorry if I’ve seemed weird or standoffish or anything, I’m trying to work on that. So if you want to, I don’t know, take this, um, friendship somewhere else, maybe somewhere romantic, I’d be, you know, happy to take it there too. With you, I mean.”

He smiled genuinely at her. His eyes shifted to her hands. She was twisting her fingers nervously. He rested his hand on hers, her hand immediately relaxing under his touch. “I’d like that,” he responded quietly. “Wanna go on a date tonight?”

She smiled, her eyes a bit teary. Her heart raced in her chest, the worst case scenario hadn’t come true. He liked her too. He wanted to date too. Her anxiety was wrong. Thank God for that. “Yeah, I do,” she confessed.

His smile got bigger somehow. “Great,” he breathed out, and she could feel the nerves leaving his body. “I’ll pick you up at 8,” he stated.

She smiled at him. “Great.”

“I need you to cover patrol for me,” Jason said to Tim, his phone pressed between his shoulder and ear. He carried a bouquet of flowers, bags from the market and a suit he had it pressed and sent to the Iceberg Lounge.

“Why?” Tim quizzed him.

“‘Cause I have a thing,” Jay responded.

“Yeah, Imma need more than that, Jay,” Tim said. “What thing?”

“You’re a little fucker”, he answered, resting the bags on the floor. “You just want gossip.”

“No, I want a reason why I’ll have to add the Narrows to my patrol tonight,” Tim argued. “It’s quite far from my usual route, y’know.”

“Fuck you, Tim,” Jason muttered.

“Why such hostility?” Tim teased. Jason could practically hear his brother’s smirk over the phone. “Is someone going on a date tonight?”

Jason exhaled deeply, trying not to lose his temper and drive to Wayne Towers to choke his brother to death. He was on a schedule, he had dinner to prepare. “Will you cover for me or not?”

“Will you tell me why you're ditching patrol?”

“No,” Jason gritted through his teeth.

“Then no,” Tim said plainly. Jason knew he was messing with him.

Jason sighed. There was no way he’d cancel on Y/N. Not because his motherfucking brother was toying with him. “I swear to God, Drake, if you tell anyone I'll kill you the most painful way possible.”

“So you are going on a date,” Tim stated.

“Fuck,” Jason sighed. “Yes, I am. Now, please Timothy, would you cover patrol for me tonight?”

“Who’s the girl?”

“Tim,” Jason started.

“Or boy, I don’t judge.”

“Will you cover the motherfucking patrol?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim dismissed.

“Thank you,” Jason sighed relieved.

“Will you introduce me to t--”

Jason hung up on his brother. He had a date to get ready to.

Jason spent the rest of his afternoon getting everything ready for the date. The food, the flowers, the ambiance of the roof. Everything was perfect, just like she fucking deserved.

He was nervous out of his mind. His hands were sweating and he couldn’t stop running his hands through his hair in a nervous habit. It was so long ago the last time he had gone on a date with someone he cared this much about. He didn’t want to screw it up.

She was so precious, so good. He didn’t know what someone like her saw in someone like him, someone tainted and broken. But she saw something, and she wanted him. And he wasn’t dumb, he wasn’t going to let her go. Even if everything in his life told him to run from her, protect her from a distance, don’t get close ‘cause she’ll become a target.

And he was doing just that, he was protecting from a distance as the Hood. He was being fucking dumb about it too, cause she had seen him more than once. But being distant was not enough, not anymore.

So there he was, in front of her apartment, black ‘62 Corvette, crisp black suit and blood red t-shirt. His hair was messy and his hands were in his pockets. He leaned on the hood of the car, waiting patiently for her to come to his encounter. He was early anyways, he could wait, even if he hated the looks of pity he was receiving. She would come and those fucking pedestrians knew nothing.

She opened the doors and stepped on the sidewalk. She was wearing a beautiful red knee-length dress with black heels and Jason was just paralyzed at her sight. Fucking hell. How can someone be so perfect? How can someone so perfect want him?

She stopped in front of him, a smile framing her face beautifully, her glasses crystal clean. “You look great, Jay,” she stated.

“I--” he opened his mouth but no words came out of his mouth. Her face fell and her eyes flashed with worry.

“What’s wrong?” she said. “Is everything okay?”

He breathed out and smiled at her. “Everything’s perfect, love,” he said. He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles gently. “You look breathtakin’.”

She looked down shyly. “Thank you, Jay.”

He opened the door of the car for her. She thanked him kindly, and he closed the door for her. He entered the car and started the engine. “Where’re we going?” she quizzed him.

He looked at her with a smirk. “It’s a surprise,” he stated. “It’s part of the charm.”

She smiled at him. “You don’t need to surprise me to charm me, Jason.”

“Cute you think that, but you’ll see,” he responded. “This is going to be a perfect night.”

She looked at him and sighed quietly, like she was considering something. “It’s already perfect. I’m here with you,” she said coyly.

Jason looked at her quickly, her gaze fixed on him. He smiled shyly. One of his hands left the wheel and found hers, holding it tightly. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed it softly. He wanted to say three little words, and he almost did. But she was too precious and he couldn’t just waste those words in a moment like this, an immature moment at that. No, he would cherish her like she was supposed too. He would love her in secret for now, and when he was sure she reciprocated his feelings he would say it with all his heart, he would shout it from the highest rooftop.

But, for now, he just looked at her, hoping his look was enough to say what he couldn’t. She smiled like she understood what he was trying to say.

Yeah, she was perfect. He wasn’t going to let her slip through his fingers. Fuck the voices in his head saying to run. For once in his life he was going to welcome this feeling with open arms.

“So, how was your week?” her therapist quizzed.

“It was great, actually,” she said. “Jay took me to the museum in Metropolis. I did well in a test and I got my salary early so I bought a new pin for my collection.”

“You’re sure spending a lot of time with Jason,” the psychologist noted.

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed softly. “I really like him, you know.”

“I do know,” the therapist replied. “How does it feel to be in a relationship?”

She looked down at her hands, flustered. “It feels nice and weird and...and…” she trailed off. “I have no words to describe it.”

Her therapist smiled at her. “He seems like a nice guy, Y/N,” she commented. “How do your friends like him?”

She twisted her hands nervously. “Henry was suspicious of him at first,” she started. “You know, Jay’s a bit shy and intimidating, Henry was concerned he’d hurt me.”

“And how did you react to his concern?”

“I mean,” she shrugged, “it’s a valid concern. But Jay wouldn’t…” she hesitated. “We’ve talked about this, y’know? He knows where I stand, he knows where my fears come from and he gave me his word,” she sniffed, her voice strained. “He promised. And so far he didn’t break any of his promises.”

“You do trust him a lot,” the therapist noticed.

“I trust him with my life,” she added. “I hope he doesn’t break that trust.”

She hummed and wrote something down. “What about your other friends?” her therapist questioned. “I know Henry means the world to you, but he’s not your only friend.”

“Julie thought he was okay and the other boys were just very neutral about it,” she explained. “You know how they’re like. As long as I’m happy they’ll be supportive.”

“Are you happy?” the psychologist inquired.

“Yeah,” she replied enthusiastically. “Fuck yeah. Jay’s just… He’s the best, you know. He gets me. He’s respectful and he’s smart and handsome. I really like him.”

Her therapist smiled. “I’m glad you’re happy, Y/N,” she said. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“It sure has,” she chuckled quietly.

“How about the Red Hood?” the therapist asked. “Have you seen him lately?”

“All the time,” she replied. “Ever since I started dating Jay, I’ve seen the Hood when I wasn’t with him.”

“Doesn’t that concern you?”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s weird but it doesn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “He seems familiar, you know? Not because I’ve seen him up close or seen him more times than I can count but…” she pondered. “His posture and his stance, it’s so so familiar to me. I wonder if I’ve met him as a civilian.”

“You could have,” her therapist pondered. “How does Jason think of this?”

“He doesn’t,” she answered. “He always changes the subject very quickly every time I bring it up.”

“That’s weird.”

“Yep,” she agreed. “I know he’s up to something. I just haven’t had the courage to ask him. Yet.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jason messed up. He messed up bad.

He could live with the fact she had seen him a couple of times lurking in rooftops making sure she was safe. He could live with the fact she was onto him, that she knew he was hiding something from her, something related to the Hood. Jason knew eventually he would have to tell her, this double life would become unsustainable, and he’d have to merge it into one. As much as he dreaded that day, he would fucking do it.

But when she sat him down in her living room and said that she knew he was the Hood, he knew, he was fucking sure, he should have been more careful.

“I’m not mad, y’know,” she said quietly. “I get why you hid from me.”

Jason remained quiet, trying to make sense of his thoughts. “How did you find out?”

A smile passed on her face. “You were just so familiar, I guess,” she explained. “You felt so familiar even from afar. So I just started connecting the dots.”

“I see,” he whispered. His heart beated faster and faster with anxiety. He couldn’t handle it, he thought he would have more time to tell her. He hadn’t realized she could very well discover on her own, he had given her enough clues to do just so. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s fine, Jason,” she replied quietly. “You don’t need to feel sorry.”

“I feel like I should,” he said. He sighed and grabbed her hands softly. “I owe you an explanation, Y/N.”

“You don’t owe me anything besides your safety,” she cut him. “I don’t care about what you do at night, Jason. I care about you, I--” she looked at him, trying to search for something in his eyes. “I love you, Jay. And I don’t think I could bear to lose you.”

Jason opened his mouth in shock. He wasn’t expecting that. “I love you,” he replied to her. “I’ve fucking loved you ever since I laid eyes on you, Y/N,” he grabbed her face and rested his forehead on hers. “I was just so scared to let you in on the secret. ‘Cause I know of the dangers, I know first hand how fucking dangerous this life is, and loosing you would kill me,” he explained. “For the second time,” he whispered.

Her hands rested on his cheeks, her thumb caressing him gently. She kissed him, softly, and he reciprocated it.

“I want to tell you,” Jason whispered, against her lips. “I have to tell you, how I became what I became.”

“You don’t n--” she began.

“I do, though,” he interrupted her. “I do,” he whispered. He sighed, and looked down. He held her wrists carefully. “If you don’t want to see me after everything I tell you, I’ll understand. I won’t blame you.”

“Imma stop you right there,” she looked him in the eyes. “You think I don’t know anything, but I know a couple of things, Jay. I did my research on the Hood,” she commented. “You don’t scare me.”

“There are things that I’ve done that…” he shook his head.

“It’s okay, Jay,” she said softly. “One step at a time, love.”

So he took one step at a time. He told her everything carefully. Some details were left behind, he couldn’t say them out loud, not even if he wanted to. She held his hands through it all, and he was truly grateful for it.

“I had no idea,” she whispered. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

“You don’t have to be,” he shook his head and squeezed her hands. “It led me to you.”

author’s note: here is the link to my jason playlist once again and the link to my masterlist.

#my masterlist #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #Jason Todd #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you

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slythergirlimagines · 4 years

Text

I Suppose That Would Be Alright- Draco x Reader

Request: Hello!! May I request prompt 4 with Draco Malfoy where the reader saw Draco cheating on her and they broke up? & He tries everything he could to get her back but she doesn’t give in easily. This could be a little angsty. xD

Summary: Reader catches Draco cheating and breaks up with him. He desperately wants her back. Angsty with a little fluff at the end! (gif not mine!) masterlist

Words: 3,681 Requested: Yes

******PLEASE GO TO THIS POST AFTER YOU READ THIS STORY, I REALLY WANT YOUR FEEDBACK ON A CONCEPT I HAVE*********

For reference, L/n refers to “your last name”

I Suppose That Would Be Alright

Draco meant everything to you. You had been dating for almost two years now, and you were happier than you had ever been.

There was a different side to Draco that you got to see. To the world he may be tough and snarky, but to you he was sweet and caring. He was also overly indulgent, and you knew he would do literally anything for you. He always told you how much you meant to him, and you had always believed him. Until this very second.

Draco stands in front of you in the corridor, being snogged within an inch of his life by Pansy Parkinson. You stand there, frozen in shock as time grinds to a halt. The other students in the hallway dart their eyes between you and Draco, and start whispering. You whirl around as quickly as you can, unable to take anymore of their pitying looks or Draco’s snogging session.

As you run, you hear Draco calling your name, but continue to push through the throng of students. You tell yourself that you just have to get away. As you run, memories swirl through your mind.

The words swim in front of your eyes, blurring into nonsense. How were you ever going to succeed in potions, when absolutely nothing made sense? Tears gather on your lashes, further obscuring what little you could make out. With a sigh, you let your head slam onto the heavy potions book.

“L/N? What are you on about?” A snide voice rings out in the quiet of the library.

You whip your head up, and blink back the moisture in your eyes. In front of you stands a scowling Draco Malfoy. His silver eyes penetrate yours, and it makes you uncomfortable. You know what he’s like, and he so obviously is going to use this against you somehow.

“Shove off Malfoy.” You mutter angrily, swiping at your eyes with vigor.

Draco eyes you for a second, then takes the seat opposite of you. He reaches out a pale hand and slides the book out from under you, turning it to examine its contents.

“Potions, huh?” He says. He looks back at you, and some how his face is a little softer than before.

“I’m pretty good at potions, if I do say so myself.” He brags. “I bet I could whip you into shape L/N.”

“Why would you help me?” You question. His actions go against everything you’ve ever heard about him, and everything you’ve ever seen him do.

Draco shrugs, and juts his pointy chin.

“Beats having to help Crabbe and Goyle. At least you can read.” He says.

You catch yourself laughing, and it surprises you. Draco Malfoy is funny?

“Y/N.” You say, extending your hand across the table. Draco considers it for a moment, and then takes your hand in his cool one.

“Draco.”

The tears stream down your face, as the memories keep hitting you full force.

“Y/n?” Draco asks, sprawled out in the grass. “Would you call us friends?”

You look up from the book you’re reading and mark the page. You’ve been Draco’s friend for several years now, and you know his moods like the back of your hand. If you don’t give him your undivided attention he’ll pout for the next week.

“I certainly hope so. I don’t spend this much time with just anyone you know.” You say gently.

You always try to be gentle around Draco. He’s been horribly belittled and mistreated by his father, and though he will never willingly admit it, he craves the support he didn’t have growing up. You never want to treat him the way his father does.

Draco sighs, and then locks his eyes on yours. He scoots his head into your lap, and then sets his gaze on the tepid lake. It’s a cozy afternoon, and the soft light makes Draco’s blonde hair look even lighter.

“But friends can take each other to dances and things right?” He says. His voice is uncharacteristically timid, and it makes you smile. Draco is always softer around you than he is with others, but he is still usually cocky and confident. Now he is nervous, and it makes your stomach flutter.

“What do you mean?” You ask, smirking. Of course you understand what he’s getting at, but you’ll take any opportunity to mess with him.

He looks up at you then, grey eyes narrowing when he catches the expression on your face. Draco sits himself up and turns to face you. He’s much closer than you anticipated, and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks.

“You’re messing with me.” He says, voice low.

“Maybe.” You agree. You aren’t quite successful at keeping the breathiness out of your voice.

“Go to the ball with me?” He asks. You pretend to think about it for a minute.

“I suppose that would be alright.” You grin. “Poor Goyle, though. I think he already had his dress picked out.”

Draco rolls his eyes, but smiles back at you anyways. You can’t keep the blush off of your face the rest of the day.

The most important memory hits you last.

“That was so much fun, Draco.” You say as he walks you through the abandoned corridors to your dormitory. If you listen closely enough, you can still hear the faint sounds of the music. The night has a dreamy haze to it, and you practically feel like you’re floating.

“It was, wasn’t it? Doesn’t help that you had the greatest date.” He adds.

You laugh, happy and carefree.

“Y/n.” Draco says, catching your hand and stopping you.

“Yes, Draco?” You ask, blinking at him. The moonlight filters in through the hallway, and Draco’s hair and eyes are gleaming. He’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I don’t want to be friends anymore.” He says.

Your face falls as you take in his words, and then he’s kissing you in the moonlight.

“I love you.” He says when he pulls away. It’s all too easy for you to stand on your tip toes, and press another hungry kiss to his mouth.

“I love you too.”

How could he do this to you? You loved him, and until now you had never doubted that he’d loved you just as much. You had been so blind.

Draco catches you before you can get away from him.

“Y/n, wait!” He says, griping your elbow to pull you back to him.

“Don’t touch me!” You shout, venom dripping from every word.

“It’s not what you think!” He starts.

“Not what I think? What I think is that you and Parkinson were just having a nice song. Don’t let me interrupt!” You snarl. You itch to whip out your wand and curse him.

“Y/n...” he says, giving you the wounded puppy eyes. They usually work, but not this time.

“I’m done!” You snap. “There are a lot of people in your life that let you toy with them, Draco. They let you move them around like chess pieces, but guess what? I’m not one of those people.”

“I know you aren’t!” Draco defends.

“I won’t let you treat me like one any longer. I loved you!” You say, tears streaming freely down your face. “I loved you for years and you were just using me.”

“No I wasn’t! That’s not true.” Draco pleads. “Y/n, I’m telling you nothing happened!”

“If that’s nothing then I’d hate to see your definition of something!” You wrench your arm out of his grasp and move away.

“Y/n, please...”

“I’m done, Draco. I’m done.” You say, and walk away. Even though you want to, you don’t turn around once. You know your worth, and you deserve more than to be treated like rubbish.

The next few days are incredibly hard. The entire school learns about your breakup, and there’s a flood of sympathetic faces wherever you go. People whisper when you walk into a room, and grow quiet when you come near. It’s humiliating and annoying, and all you want is some damn privacy to mourn.

It doesn’t help that Draco refuses to take the hint and leave you alone. He’s already tried to approach you a few times, and it’s getting harder and harder to avoid him.

Today you all share a class, ironically potions, and you usually share a table. You know that it will be impossible to get any learning done with him next to you. Maybe you could find someone to switch with you. Draco was still astoundingly good at potions, and there had to be someone who would want to reap the benefits of being his partner.

Finding that someone, however, was proving to be impossible. You weren’t really that close with anyone in your class, and after the second no, you were starting to get the feeling that everyone wanted to see the drama play out. You decide that if you had to sit next to Draco, then the best thing to do would be to get there last and leave first.

You walk into potions with your head held high, seconds before class begins. Professor Snape narrows his dark eyes as you walk in, but doesn’t say anything to you about it. Draco is in his usual seat, sitting stiff as a board.

He is paler than usual, you note as you take your seat. Dark purple rings his eyes, and betrays his lack of sleep. Your heart stutters being this close to him, but you are strong and you will ignore all of this.

Snape begins his lecture, and you hang onto every word. You’ve never been so focused on a lecture in your life. You’re busy noting every word that Snape says, when a note pops up on your parchment.

“I really need to talk to you.” It reads. It’s in Draco’s neat and proper handwriting, and you have the violent urge to destroy the loops with your quill.

You lock your jaw, and then continue taking notes as if you’ve never seen Draco’s message.

“Y/n, please. I’d just like to explain.” Another note says.

Again you ignore it, and you can feel the tension in Draco increase as he scribbles another hasty note.

“Y/n, please..” the words start.

“Enough!” You snap at Draco, loud enough to draw the attention of the rest of the class.

“L/n, I didn’t know that you were so educated about Acromantula Venom that you didn’t need my lecture.” Snape says in his slow drawl. “Please enlighten the rest of the class with your expansive knowledge.”

“I-I’m sorry professor, it won’t happen again.” You say. Snape looks more sour than ever as he turns his attention back to the lecture.

You feel the familiar pressure of tears behind your eyes. This time, they are angry tears. Draco couldn’t settle for humiliating you in front of everyone in the corridor, he had to also humiliate you in class too.

The second Snape dismisses you, you are running from the class. You give Draco no time to catch up with you, as you hastily make your way back to your dormitory. Maybe you’ll just have to hide out here forever.

Draco tries again during dinner. You knew you should have just had one of your housemates bring you a plate, but you hate feeling like a coward. You’re not going to starve to death because Draco couldn’t keep his tongue in his mouth. You refuse to let him have that much power over you.

You’re in the middle of forced conversation with your housemates when Draco makes his way over and sits down. Instantly, you feel a multitude of prying eyes on you, and you again have the urge to run.

“Y/n.” Draco says firmly. “I need to talk to you.”

“Leave me alone, Malfoy.” You say coldly. Draco flinches at your use of his last name. You’ve never called him Malfoy, not since the day you became friends.

“Y/n, nothing happened with Pansy. I love you!” He says as quietly as he can. It irks you that he’s being so quiet about it. If he really loved you, why was he acting like it was such a shameful secret.

“Right.” You say. “I’ll believe that when I see it Draco.”

You didn’t mean it as a challenge. Draco’s actions had already proven to you what he felt. However, his face brightens at your words and warmth blooms in your chest. You quickly stamp it out, and ignore the feelings. You’ll get over that soon enough.

“I’ll prove it to you! I swear I will.” He says, and then he swings his legs over the bench and walks out of the Great Hall. You have the sinking feeling that disaster is looming.

Draco’s first attempt to win you back involves flowers. Somehow, he manages to jinx a vase in your room to procure a new flower for you every morning. Of course, they are your favorite kind of flower, and the vase magically expands to include them all.

The flowers anger you because they are a sweet gesture and an impressive bit of magic. Why couldn’t his attempts be weak and pathetic so you didn’t consider taking him back? Draco was too good at wooing and schmoozing. You have to remind yourself multiple times a day that you caught him kissing Pansy.

To his credit, Draco leaves you alone for a while. He doesn’t try to contact you or force you to talk to him. That doesn’t mean you can’t feel his eyes on you all the time, and that potions isn’t the most intense class you have. But at least it’s something.

You have five flowers when Draco makes another attempt. Your favorite candy from Honeydukes now appears underneath the flowers. You carefully unwrap the package, and put the delicacy in your mouth. It’s delicious, as always, but it makes you sad too. You miss Draco more than anything, but your trust has been broken. Some chocolate and flowers won’t fix that by themselves.

You miss him, and you really should stop hiding from him and just talk. He was trying, and that’s at least enough reason to let him speak. You didn’t have to forgive him.

You go down to the Great Hall with determination. You’re going to get this resolved today, regardless of the outcome.

You walk into the hall, eyes searching for blonde hair and silver eyes. You find Draco at his normal table, and then your heart sinks. Next to him sits Pansy, who is staring at him with obvious heart eyes. Your anger reaches its boiling point as you stomp over.

“Draco.” You say, tone stormy. “We need to talk.”

Draco looks eager as he jumps from the table and follows you outside.

“What are you doing?” You hiss. “You can’t send me flowers and candy every morning and then still be hanging around Pansy whenever I see you! It doesn’t work that way.”

“Oh I’m sorry.” He says, voice haughty. He sounds like the Draco everyone else knows. “I’m just a little confused because I try everything to reach out to you, and you ignore me and all my effort and then get mad when someone else acts interested in me!”

“I’m not allowed to be mad that you’re with the person you cheated on me with?!” You snap.

Draco’s grey eyes narrow dangerously, and his body shakes with anger.

“You never listen to what I say.” He snaps.

“You know what? I was coming down here this morning to talk to you. I was hoping we could talk about everything, get it resolved, but I can see that I have my answer!” You cross your arms, and lock your jaw. You desperately try to stop your tears, but they spill over your lashes anyways. You collect yourself for a minute.

“If you’re going to be with Pansy, Draco, just let me move on.” You say quietly, voice watery.

Draco doesn’t say anything to you as you leave. As soon as you make it to your dorm, you smash the vase of flowers to pieces.

Weeks go by, and you are more miserable then you have ever been. You spend all your free time in the library, avoiding crowds and Draco. You don’t want to see him any more than you can help. Every time you have to sit next to him in potions it hurts. You don’t even go to Quidditch matches anymore to avoid seeing him. If he’s with Pansy then you’d rather not know.

One particularly rainy afternoon finds you in the library, potions book on your lap. You aren’t doing much studying, instead your eyes trace raindrops as they roll down the window. Your melancholy is broken by someone stomping up to you.

“I’m not with Draco.” A nasally voice says. Pansy stands in front of you, one hand on her hip.

“Ok.” Is all you say. You don’t want to so much as look at Pansy. All you see is Draco’s lips on hers when you do.

“Ok, so stop moping and just make up!” She says annoyingly. Even this doesn’t spark your anger like it should. You just feel numb and empty.

You don’t give her a response. Instead, you shift your potions book from your lap, and tuck your knees under your chin. Once settled, you turn your attention back to the rainy window, and ignore Pansy.

“Fine.” She says, storming off. “Keep being miserable.”

It’s only when she’s gone that you let yourself become a reflection of the window.

Draco tries again for a final time when he catches you in the library. Today, you are actually trying to study. Ever since you and Draco broke up, you had lost not only a boyfriend but your potions tutor. Now you were desperately trying to teach yourself, and it just wasn’t working out.

Draco finds you in much the same position that you were when you first became friends. You’re all but banging your head against the table when he speaks.

“Y/n.” You look up and find he looks as miserable as you do.

“Draco.” You say. Your heart still thunders when he’s near. You hate that he still has any effect on you.

“Listen. Just let me say this once and I’ll never bother you again.” He says, his grey eyes imploring you to hear him out.

You sit silently, waiting for him to proceed.

“I never kissed Pansy. She kissed me. I admit, I let it go on for too long. I should’ve pushed her off the moment she touched me, but I was so shocked and I froze. Then when I finally realized I pushed her away and you were already leaving. I never had feelings for her, nor did I ever want to cheat on you. You’re the only one I want.” He says.

“I know I hurt you, and that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I would never hurt you like that. I love you and it’s killing me to be apart from you like this, to think that you hate me. You’re the best part of my life, y/n, the only good part.” Draco takes a deep breath and continues.

“After this, if you still don’t want to be with me, then I’ll back off. I just wanted you to know the truth. I love you, and it’s only ever been you for me, never anyone else.”

You are in shock as he finishes his speech. Draco watches you process his confession with patience, and it takes you a few minutes to really understand what he’s saying.

You feel stupid when tears well up in your eyes again. You’re so sick of crying and feeling pathetic.

“It really didn’t mean anything?” You find yourself asking. “She kissed you?”

“Yes!” He exclaims. “It was 100% one-sided on her part.”

You sniff, thinking about it for a minute.

“Ok.” You finally say. “I believe you.”

Draco eases his tense posture and death grip on the chair he’s leaning on. He looks at you warily, trying to decipher where he stands with you now.

You look down at the table and your useless potions book. How funny that your relationship would come full circle. You know how you feel about him, how you‘be always felt. Even when you were broken up you still loved him.

“I’m sorry.” You say. “You tried to tell me and I didn’t listen.”

“Its not your fault!” Draco assures you. “It was me, I was being a right git.”

You shake your head, but for the first time in weeks you smile. When you look back up, Draco is smiling too.

“So, could I have a second chance?” He pleads.

You pretend to think about it for a minute.

“I suppose that would be alright.” You grin. Draco gives you a glowing look and matches your grin.

“On one condition.” You tell him, suddenly serious.

“Anything.” He tells you with sincerity. He walks over to your side of the table, and crouches down in front of you.

“I really need help with Potions.” Draco laughs and pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

It’s needy and passionate, and you let your mouth express to him everything you can’t yet put into words.

When he pulls away, Draco lets his forehead rest against yours. You relish this closeness with him in a way you never have before.

“I suppose that would be alright.” He whispers with a smirk.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed:) I am currently working on part 2 of “Don’t Call Me Princess” and that will hopefully be up in the next few days! Please don’t hesitate to request something, I write for several fandoms. I’m lowkey desperate for someone to request something Marvel.

#slythergirlimagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x you #draco x y/n #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Draco Malfoy

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