#thanks for the ask! this was interesting to think about
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
muse
pairing: lando norris x poet!reader
summary: you're notoriously picky about your muses. no wonder lando's all flattered when he manages to figure out that you've written a few poems about him.
a/n: please enjoy! as per usual any songs/poems i reference are not my work. thank you so much for the request, i didn't follow it entirely but i loved the idea of an artistic!reader
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
liked by mothercain and others
yourinstagram found a new muse
view all 1,394 comments
user1 new collection WHEN
user2 that cat is so cute is it yours? ♥︎ liked by yourinstagram
yourinstagram yes! her name is stevie
user3 she's picking up the pen again!
mothercain well? show it to me
yourinstagram i'm in the editing process 🤕 art takes time mothercain or you're getting shy
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
liked by alexandrasaintmleux and others
yourinstagram oh...technology
view all 3,078 comments
user1 y/n and f1 crossover??
user2 collab we didn't know we needed
user3 we see you alex
alexandrasaintmleux send me the pictures you took please 🩷 think i found my new favorite photographer
yourinstagram too kind. usually i'm more of a pen and paper girl alexandrasaintmleux well the artistry certainly carries over user4 i KNEW they'd like each other
user5 waist who
user6 love you SM
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
liked by f1 and others
yourinstagram teaser
view all 12,569 comments
user1 OH MY GOD WHERE CAN I ORDER
user2 ur such an inspiration y/n
mothercain proud of you
yourinstagram thanks ml <3
user3 wtf is f1 admin doing here
f1 we love y/n's poetry, doesn't everyone? user4 is she doing a f1 special or sth
user5 the signature is sooo cute
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
liked by mclaren and others
lando i'm literate, i promise.
view all 4,719 comments
user1 his jawline...
user2 on holiday?? don't you have a car to be driving
oscarpiastri as long as you believe it!
lando you're a horrible friend
user3 WAIT GUYS THAT'S Y/N'S BOOK
user4 who's y/n user3 @/user4 @/yourinstagram she's a poet and she recently came out with a new poetry collection user5 woah. hear me out: it's about lando?? user6 bfr no educated girl would go for that man
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
liked by lando and others
mclaren Celebrated poet Y/N L/N in our garage today 🧡 Wanna write something about our cars, too?
tagged: yourinstagram
view all 3,472 comments
user1 i would cry if i wrote a poem about a driver and he read it and his team read it and then they invited me and asked me to write about their cars
user2 mclaren really trying to cement their legacy
user3 oh she's STUNNING
yourinstagram was it fun tormenting me
mclaren do you not like our company ☹️ user4 @/mclaren she's only there for lando
user5 so we're basically accepting that her new collection is about a freaking racecar driver
user6 lando's fine but is he THAT fine user7 love does weird things to people user8 i mean he liked the post
lando guess i'm just more interesting
user9 y/n hasn't responded guess she's busy dying of mortification user10 oh he's going to be insufferable user11 the dad lore will go crazy "that poem you're reading in english class? yeah! it's about me!"
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
liked by others
f1gossipofficial Is that Y/N L/N with Lando Norris? We think it might be.
tagged: yourinstagram, lando
view all 1,393 comments
user1 oh my god it's real
user2 are they car-shopping together??
user3 i'm so confused who is she
user4 YN NATION RISE SHE HAS A MAN. I REPEAT. SHE HAS A MAN!
user5 lowk can't believe the guy who bagged our girl y/n is an athlete user6 i thought she'd go for like a random college prof. or a nerd. idk. user7 remember when we thought she was dating daniel radcliffe 😭 and then it turned out she was coaching him for the kill your darlings promo LMAO let's not rush into this user8 @/user7 that was so embarrassing...we all got tricked but this time y/n's been writing about him user9 @/user8 are we SURE though
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
liked by mothercain and others
lando thought it was time to return the favor x
tagged: yourinstagram
view all 23,581 comments
user1 don't be shy, lando. show us the picture
user2 they're so book couple coded?
user3 if i write enough fanfiction will my celeb crush notice me too
yourinstagram not bad, norris.
lando so now you're all nonchalant? didn't seem like it last night user4 HELLO? freaks. FREAKS, i tell you. user5 well y/n it might be time to write your man a pr manual
user6 well she's definitely an artist for the ages. he'll be immortalized in her work. and her? her legacy speaks for itself but i suppose she might treasure that photo just as much
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
a/n: have a great march!
#lando norris x reader#formula one x reader#formula one#f1 x reader#f1#f1 smau#lando norris#kimi antonelli#toto wolff#oikarma ᯓᡣ𐭩
310 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oh wow, I’m super honored! Thanks for thinking of me :). And very cool to read both of your answers!
8. Tough question! Thanks for inspiring me to go back and try to look over my writing with more objective eyes, haha. For Imperfectionism, I’d have to pick this moment:
When I was imagining their conversation in my head, I didn’t envision this beat, this moment of (justified!) anger and bitterness from Phineas. One of those things when the character takes hold of the pen for a second I guess! But I think it really cements that core theme for the fic, grounds Phineas into his own unique feelings and interpretations of this conversation, and inspires Jonas that last final plunge of honesty. I can’t imagine the story without this part anymore.
For The Witch and the Ghost of Stationary Hill, I’m tempted to put the section where I wrote that Tzila draws “with a naturalists’ precision” because of the smug satisfaction I have for that line because of Unend’s recent revelations. But here’s my real favorite part:
It’s really just the thesis moment of the fic I think, and it makes me so happy to imagine Tzila with her life full of joy and adventures marked upon her face (UNEND PLEASE DON’T RUIN THIS FOR ME).
9. I hadn’t written any fanfiction before Midst! I dunno, one of the beauties of Midst is that as contained and complete as the story is, it isn’t afraid to still leave you with questions or things left unresolved. I had ideas in my head for conversations Phineas and Jonas and Tzila and Lark could still have post-canon that I wanted to do something with, so I did!
27. Oh, interesting question, thanks for asking! Most primarily, the stories are based off of what I thought was still left open-ended for the characters in question— the shackles of perfection and expectations for Phineas and Jonas, and the cycle of grief and living life to the fullest for Lark and Tzila. But naturally some of the author will always leak into writing, and I’m definitely no exception! I think you’d be hard-pressed to find someone out there that hasn’t struggled in any capacity with perfectionism, releasing emotions, guilt, mourning, or saying goodbye to someone before they feel entirely ready. It was very rewarding for me to get to examine how those abstract, undefinable emotions presented themselves in these specific circumstances with these specific characters, and I’m sure that the way I personally chose to examine them has been colored by my life experiences. But then again— isn’t the way you read and interpret those concepts in my writing also inspired by your own life experiences?
This was so fun to think about! Thanks for the enrichment and interest :). If you want to/are up for a few more: 4, 18, 28 and 30!
Fanfic/Author Ask Game
Write a scene from [insert fic] in another character’s POV
Which of your fics is your pride and joy?
What are your top three most commonly used tags on AO3?
What are some words or phrases you feel like you overuse?
What’s something you learned while researching a fic?
Would you ever accept requests or commissions?
Coffee or tea while you write?
What is your favorite line/section from [insert fic]?
How did you get into writing fanfiction?
Is there a character or ship you'd love to write for, but haven't yet?
What makes a fic 'successful' in your opinion?
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Do you have an 'official' creative writing background such as a degree or previous experience publishing?
What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?
Does anyone you know in real life know you write fanfiction?
What do you struggle with most when writing?
What is something you recently felt proud of in your writing?
How many WIPs do you have and how many do you expect to finish?
How do you get over writer's block?
Share your favorite kiss scene from [insert fic]. If there's no kiss scene, share your favorite moment of intimacy (romantic or platonic)
What stops you from writing more in your free time?
Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?
What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?
Which scene/theme was the inspiration for [insert fic]?
Are there any moments in [insert fic] that feel "blurry" to you? Is this a stylistic choice, or would you go back and clarify the descriptions if you were given the chance?
Do you ever "prep" your fics with outlines or warmups before you start writing, or do you just dive right in?
Are any of your stories inspired by personal experience?
What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?
How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?
Have you noticed your style change over time?
What fic meant the most to you to write?
A character you enjoy making suffer.
A character you want to protect.
What is your favorite fic to get comments/messages on?
Wild Card: Ask me something else!
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
𐔌 ⁺ 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𓂃۶ৎ



𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 , after some comments were made by quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and he has to reassure you
𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. luke!bsf x quinn hughes. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. teasing. flirting. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. I love writing quinn so much😭 this is a repost that’s slightly edited if it looks a little familiar to you. one of my favs things ive ever written to this day so thanks again to the anon who requested it! <333
you and quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including luke. your best friend and quinn's youngest brother.
the four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. jack and luke were chirping quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.
you laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old. your smile quickly faded when jack started making comments about how all quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.
you know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. it wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with quinn. being four years younger than him. not being enough to keep him interested. these comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.
"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.
a few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and quinn enters, when you answer, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.
"what's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly, brushing the hair out of your face as he holds you tight. the time he’s had to spent close to you but not allowed to touch you, having taken its toll on him.
"nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.
"don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.
"do you think I'm too young for you?" the words fly out before you can stop them and quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.
"age is just a number baby," quinn says teasingly, kissing your lips softly and you sigh.
"quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.
"so am I. I don't care if you're four years younger or four years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. you know how jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. if there's an opportunity to chirp me about something, he’s gonna take it. if they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that. you know both of them adore you and would never say anything to hurt you on purpose" quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.
“and besides, those relationships didn’t work out because they just weren’t the right girl for me baby. not because they were younger. they just weren’t you” he says softly, pressing yet another kiss to your collarbone.
"i’m not ready to tell luke yet." you say and quinn nods, expecting that response from you.
"the longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.
quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.
"god it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. you smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". your guy loves hugging.
"I'll sneak into your room tonight. if you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.
"I think you can handle me just fine baby" quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.
𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. thank you for reading and feel free to drop by the inbox and share any and all thoughts <333
#꒰ 🗄️ ꒱ — 𝓗hughes#꒰ 📂 ꒱ — 𝓗hughes > fics#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes fic
376 notes
·
View notes
Text
Doctor's In - Part 16
Summary: Your Westview fam reunites with you and Boston as you prepare to leave the city.
A/N: I believe this is what @jerullium and I would call a filler episode but hey! Enjoy if you like Wanda fluff
-
You know what the call is about.
“Hello?” you practically sing, your eyes on the road.
“Stop that” Wanda warns you.
“Stop what?”
“Changing the music. You know I don’t like that girl!”
“Babe, Chappell is great” you play dumb.
“I’m the only redhead you can love”
“Yes, darling. Have you asked the kids yet?”
“Just about to. I’m picking them up before my mother steals my car and crashes against a police car. Again”
You want to laugh at how annoyed Wanda sounds. Honestly, you’re dying to meet her mother.
“Let me know if they agree to come so I can get your tickets”
“I can do that…”
“You’re all flying first class, and that’s final. Gotta go. Love ya”
“Me too… you’re playing her music again!” she says and you hang up, laughing.
“You guys are adorable” Val says, sitting next to you in the car.
“Yelena likes to call it ridiculously corny”
“So, not that this is any of my business… but why are you looking to work abroad if you are in a relationship with Wanda? I don’t think she’d be willing to move, right?”
“Well… that’s why I was curious about that summer program you mentioned with an NGO”
Valkyrie knew enough people and organizations to find something that wouldn’t mean moving to a different country indefinitely.
And as it turned out, you had a few common friends, including none other than Sharon Carter.
She was a couple years ahead of you in college, but you’d always gotten along. Thanks to Val, you knew she was ready to move back home -her whole family was in Boston- and you were hoping she could take an interest in working for Romanoff Medical Center.
After everything Melina had done for you (even if it was out of self interest to provide Yelena with a mentor), you didn’t feel comfortable just leaving without a thought after your contract was up.
As you go meet Sharon at the restaurant, your mind drifts to Billy and Tommy. Would they be excited at the prospect of seeing you? Wanda had only mentioned they went through a rough patch, but you were always too afraid to ask the details.
The sight of Sharon waving at you brings you back to reality.
“Carter girl” you greet like you did in college, hugging her.
“Look at you, all grown up”
“Look at you, working for WHO”
“It’s nothing, really” she shrugs it off, greeting Val as well.
There’s some talk about work, just chit chat while the waiter was hanging around waiting to take your order. Once he’s done and you have some space to talk more freely, Sharon turns to you, a smirk on her face.
“You still a player?”
That makes you choke on your drink, while Val whistles.
“What? Here I was thinking this one was a family gal”
“Wait, hold up. That’s insane. In college, she used to charm every girl. Not even the ones with boyfriends were safe” Sharon says, making you blush.
“I don’t seem to recall…”
“Jean Grey.”
“Ok, got it. No need to go further into detail” you interrupt her, suddenly remembering that yeah, you had been a bit of a player in college. “Now I’m with someone who has two kids, so I’m looking to return to Westview”
“Romanoff Medical is going to need a great Head of Trauma” Val chimes in.
“The pay is spectacular”
“Mhm. Heard Melina can be hard to deal with” Sharon says and you sigh.
“Honestly? Not as much. Not if you do your job and you’re good at it. Like me” you wink at her.
“Well, I’d be looking to start in a month or so, because I really wanna get some rest and be with my family”
“Timing couldn’t be better… except I need someone to cover for me this weekend. Do you mind?”
“That’s going to cost you a mimosa”
“Done” you say, waving at the waiter.
—
Wanda is stalling.
Things were getting better between her and the kids. There was no arguing, even if Billy had decided to quit the soccer team.
She knew they still missed you, but they were starting to heal. And your relationship was going well, but Wanda was afraid of so many things.
Of screwing it up again. Hurting the kids.
Getting hurt.
Though you’d never ever do it, she trusted you completely.
She’s still thinking about how to bring up the trip to the kids when she gets a text from you.
Y/N: Hey, it’s been a couple of hours. If you’re not ready or think it’s not the best idea to bring the kids, I get it. They always come first. Just know that I love you no matter what :)
Wanda smiles at that.
She decides to leave her study and go to the twins’ room, where they’re doing some homework.
“Hey, do you guys have a minute?” she sits in Billy’s bed, and Tommy joins them. “So, I know we haven’t spoken about Y/N. She’s been living and working in Boston”
“That’s where you’ve been traveling to” Tommy says, looking up.
“Right. And we ran into each other… started talking. She mentioned you could join me on my next trip and we’d all go around the city together. There are some cool stuff to do and see”
“Seriously? That would be awesome! Yes, I want to come with you!” Tommy says, excited. Wanda’s about to ask Billy when he jumps out of bed, running to lock himself in the bathroom.
“Wait here, sweetheart” she asks Tommy. “Billy? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t wanna go”
“Why? Are you angry at Y/N?”
“No”
“Then me?”
“No” he says, this time with less conviction.
“Then what is it?”
“You’re only making us go so you both can give us the talk” he says through the door, and Wanda decides to open it.
“What talk?” she sits on the floor next to her son, running her hands through his hair.
“The same talk Emily’s parents had with her when they were getting a divorce. About how it wasn’t her fault and they’d always love her even if they weren’t together”
“No, that’s not it at all, Billy”
“She just wants to say goodbye to us”
“I promise you that’s not it. We’re both trying hard to fix everything, my sweet boy. Have our family back” Billy turns around to wipe his face, and Wanda sighs. “Would it make you feel better if Y/N told you herself?”
That makes the boy turn.
Wanda takes out her phone, dialing your number and hoping you’re not too busy with work.
“Hey, beautiful. Got any news for me? Will I get to see my boys?”
“Y/N!” Billy jumps up, leaning his head against Wanda’s to hear you better.
“Billy? Hey kiddo. How are you? I’ve missed you so damn much”
He’s so excited he doesn’t even notice the curse word that leaves your mouth.
“I missed you too! Do you like Boston?”
“It’s alright. Would be a lot more fun if you guys came over to visit me. What do you say?”
“We’ll do some fun stuff?”
“And eat ice cream”
“This isn’t to say goodbye?”
“Goodbye? I have my ticket to Westview in a couple of weeks, Billy. You’re not getting rid of me”
“Ok, yeah! We’ll see you soon!” he says, excited. You laugh.
“Alright then. Now let me speak to your mom”
He hands over the phone, running back to his room.
“We have thirty seconds before Tommy comes running to talk to you”
“Ok, I’ll take it to say I love you and can’t wait to see you all this weekend”
“Will we stay at the penthouse?”
“I’m not sure it’s very child friendly so let’s get a suite at a nice hotel” you say, knowing the place was full of expensive things that could easily break with two kids running around.
Like clockwork, Tommy shows up, kneeling next to his mother.
“Y/N! Can we go to a Red Sox game?”
“I’ll see what I can do, buddy” you say. He keeps talking, asking questions about the city.
Billy joins in a second later, and this is the first time in months that Wanda’s seen them so happy and excited.
She can’t wait to have her entire family back together.
—
Rumor has it, Fury has found a replacement. He only schedules interviews when Darcy’s away and he asks goody two shoes Kamala Kahn to deliver all the CVs he needs to read.
She’d never move to the dark side, unfortunately.
Darcy is running out of ideas to keep the job open.
There’s one, though.
“Fuck it” she decides, walking to Fury’s office and ignoring his secretary when she says he’s busy.
He obviously isn’t, signing papers.
“Yes, Doctor Lewis?”
“I’d like to be considered”
“Considered for…” he says without look up.
“The position of Head of Trauma”
Now, that makes Fury pay attention. He smiles, removing his glases.
“I thought you wanted Y/N to come back to her old job”
“Well, she’s taking her sweet time and I don’t want anyone else running the ER. So, I’m your girl”.
“I still have to interview you” he says, pulling out Darcy’s file and reading it. “Darcy N. Lewis. What does the N stand for?”
“None of your business” Darcy snaps, forgetting she’s talking to her boss until Fury levels her with a glare. “Nora”
“Alright. Let’s start, shall we?”
—
Melina’s reviewing schedules when she hears a knock on the door.
“Ah, just who I wanted to see” she says when you walk inside.
“Have I done something?”
“Well, we have a pending discussion about your time with us, don’t we?” the woman says, and you appreciate how she goes straight to business.
“I am leaving after the three months we agreed on” you admit, sitting down in front of her.
“I assumed as much, seeing your girlfriend around these past few weeks”
“I’m sorry, I know you wanted it to not work out” you tease, and Melina huffs, offended.
“I’m not some kind of monster! If you’re happy, I am glad to hear it. I just know it’s gonna be incredibly difficult to find someone who can…”
You interrupt her rant by pushing Sharon’s CV in front of her. She skims through it, raising her eyebrows.
“She worked for the World Health Organization?”
“Mhm. Top of her class, outstanding in every way. She also brings a large network and a lot of prestige”
Needless to say, those are things Melina loves. You’re sure she’d be willing to throw another gala just to show off Sharon.
“We’d have to do a trial, show her around…”
“Already arranged it” you say, smiling. Melina keeps reading the file and you know she doesn’t need any more convincing, so you take your cue to leave. But there’s something more you wanna say, as you stand by the door. “Hey. Thank you for taking me in. You gave me a place to stay and a job when I was completely broken. I can’t imagine what I would have done without your help”
“Just make sure… she’s worth it all. That she values you as much as you do her, Y/N. This is your career, and a big sacrifice at that” the brunette says, her tone softer.
“You’re right. Thank you” you leave with a smile.
—
It feels like everyone decided to fly today. The airport is crowded, you can barely find room to walk and you know Wanda must be struggling with her bag and the two kids who are running around everywhere.
“God damn it” you sigh, hoping they’re managing through the sea of people.
You hear them before seeing them.
“Y/N!” Tommy screams. You don’t realise where he’s coming from until he crashes against your back, jumping as he hugs you.
“Hey, kiddo!” you try to turn around, only to see Billy sprinting at full speed. “Oh, oh”
He gives the final push that knocks you down, and you shriek as they climb on top of you.
“Boys! Honestly, what has gotten into you?” Wanda comes to the rescue a second later. “You ok?”
“Come here, you two” you sit up, hugging them. “Missed you like crazy”
“And what about me?” Wanda pouts. You laugh, standing up and kissing her.
“Of course I missed you too, beautiful”
Right on cue, they both groan and complain as Wanda kisses you back.
“I didn’t miss that” Tommy sasses you and you glare.
“In that case…” you grab Wanda by the waist, pulling her against you and peppering kisses all over her face.
“Baby” she laughs, and you silence her a second later with your lips.
“Blegh” they both say, grabbing their backpacks.
“Are they teens now?” you mumble against Wanda’s ear.
“No, teenage years will be much worse than this. Are you still up for it?”
“In it for the long run, baby”
Wanda has to go straight to a work meeting, but you stop by a second to greet Wendy, and make sure she gets a chance to meet the twins.
“I’ve heard so much about you!” the woman says.
“Tell Wendy what was your favorite story of hers growing up”
“Uh, the one where the kids go to space” Billy says shyly.
“And they take their dog! We have a dog too and we’d take him to space with us” Tommy agrees.
“Alright, astroboys, let them work. We’re going to a baseball game”
“Oh, no! I’m sad I’ll miss it. Have fun” Wanda lies.
You knew she’d be bored out of her mind so you decided it was as good a time as any to take them to the game.
“Yeah, those are so much fun” you say, knowing baseball is incredibly boring for you too. As Wanda says goodbye you pull her close and whisper in her ear. “I’m taking one for the team so be prepared to thank me later, babe”
“Stop” she tries not to laugh, knowing exactly what you mean. “And don’t eat a lot of junk food”
“You heard your mom”
“I wasn’t talking only to the kids”
“Rude”
As you expected, you still have no clue what’s going on but the kids enjoy eating nachos and watching men running around after a ball.
“Wow, Camarena is about to bat!”
“Oh, I met that guy in New York” you say, remembering how Zach was so excited about that player.
You really need to plan something in the summer for him to meet the twins.
As Camarena prepares to bat, you decide to FaceTime Zach.
“Where are yooou?” he says, annoyingly close to the screen. “Without me? Traitor”
“Who’s that?” Tommy says, looking away from the game for a split second.
“My brother”
“Hi, I’m uncle Zach”
“You can’t be our uncle. You’re too young” Billy huffs.
You’re about to tell them to settle when you hear the familiar sound of people cheering and shouting.
“Ah, shit. Not again”
Another ball falls right on your hand.
Tommy takes your phone, lifting it in the air and dancing with his brother as the camera pans to you.
Honestly, why are people so happy over catching a freakin ball?
Pretty soon you hope there’s another coming your way and knocks you down, because Zach is arguing over the phone with the boys.
“We should totally keep it!”
“Are you insane? If he asks for it you can get a picture with him and get him to sign stuff, that’s worth more!”
“It wouldn’t be the same”
Anyway, as the game ends you get called just like last time.
“You again?” the team manager recognises you and you shrug your shoulders.
“Hey, I’m just as surprised as you”
“Alright, how about a picture and a signed bat in exchange for the ball?”
You shake your head no and point at the kids.
“You’re asking the wrong person, pal. Negotiate with these two”
Why are you even surprised when they get all demanding? They are Wanda’s kids after all.
In the end, they get one picture each, two signed baseball balls, one of his hats and a glove.
“Come on, your mom’s waiting for us at the hotel. You two need to shower so we can grab some food”
“No shower when we’re on vacation!” they chant as you drive back.
“Nu-uh, you’re both stinky. Plus you hugged that stinky man”
“Can we have burgers and milkshakes?”
“You had nachos and popcorn and soda. Oh, by the way” you turn to look at them at the red light. “If your mother asks you didn’t eat all that. Just some popcorn”
“We can agree if we don’t have to shower”
“Shower and I’ll take you to the F1 arcade”
Billy and Tommy whisper in the back of the car, considering your proposal.
“Deal”
“Fist bump” you say, throwing one hand to the back seat so they can seal the deal.
You definitely missed acting like a kid with them.
—
Wanda was right. You’d never say it out loud because you don’t want her to get all cocky.
But the kids have been hyper ever since they arrived and you’re a little out of practice with taking care of them.
It’s day two and you’re hoping the museum can provide some distraction while you chill with Wanda.
“You ok, detka? Seems like you ran a marathon” Wanda comments with a smirk.
“I’m super fine. Just ate a lot for breakfast” you lie, but still keep her close to your side, hoping you can sit down and watch the kids run around.
And for a little while, everything’s going well. Until you stumble upon an exhibition.
“Hall of Human Life” you read out loud.
It’s like Disneyland for doctors.
“That’s so cool!” you say, watching the model of an artery with high blood pressure. Tommy and Billy pick up on your enthusiasm, following you everywhere and asking questions as they go through every station of the exhibit.
Apparently, there’s a little contest at the end and you join a group of children sitting on the floor.
“Alright” the staff woman says, looking around. “Who can tell me how many bones are in the human body?”
“206!” you shout from the back, making every kid turn to look at you.
“Correct… uh, let’s just raise our hands to answer” the woman asks, thrown off by the sight of an adult in a children’s activity. “Does anyone remember three parts of the eye? Anyone?”
You’re the only one raising your hand, and the woman gives up with a sigh.
“Sclera, iris and retina”
It keeps happening with a couple of questions and Wanda is torn between letting you crash the activity or ask you to join her in the back.
As you get ready to argue with a 12 year old over an incorrect answer, Wanda decides you better get going.
“Come here, baby”
“Ok, what you said is incorrect. 1 in 500 people have a cervical rib” you keep arguing with the kid while Wanda drags you away.
“Here” she pushes you to the back of an exhibit.
“Hey, I was just…”
“We should let the kids enjoy themselves for a bit, don’t you think?” she asks and you’re about to argue when her lips are on yours.
“Yeah, that’s alright I guess” you sigh, a shiver running down your spine when Wanda bites your bottom lip.
“So, wanna discuss anatomy with a kid or show me what you know in this little corner?”
“I’m definitely staying here” you say, making out like teenagers.
You only notice the activity is over when the kids come looking for you.
“Gross” Tommy says.
“Hey, keep that up and we’ll go through the baby section again”
“Nooo” they both run away, traumatized by the drawings.
“How I missed babysitting the three of you” Wanda laughs.
You walk down the rest of the museum, commenting on your favorite thing in each area. As you discuss if they want to go to the aquarium after having some food, Wanda decides to get some souvenirs from the gift shop, Tommy tagging along in hopes of getting a t-shirt.
“You don’t want a t-shirt, beautiful boy?” you ask Billy, and he smiles when you call him that. It’s his favorite thing, from that John Lennon song.
“I don’t want you to be alone”
“I’ll be fine. Go with Mom, help her shop for something for Pietro and Grandma”
“It’s ok” he insists. You hug him and he leans on your side.
“How have you been? Heard you’re not really into soccer these days”
“No, I only went because Tommy liked it. But it’s not my favorite thing. Plus Daniel was being kind of mean” he mutters.
“Isn’t he Dick’s… I mean, Richard’s kid?” you stumble over the nickname.
“Yeah. He was saying that it wasn’t right that mom was with you and that was why I was weird too”
You take a deep breath, turning to look at him.
“You know that’s not right”
“Yeah. Tommy kicked his ass for that. Don’t tell mom I said a bad word” he remembers and his expression makes you forget the anger for a second.
“My lips are sealed”
In that precise moment, Wanda and Tommy come back. Tommy has some dinosaur stuff that he bought for his brother and they’re busy checking everything out.
“Wow, what’s going on?” Wanda says when you pull her aside.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whisper, shaking with anger.
“Tell you what? Y/N, calm down”
“I’m going to kill him”
“Kill who?”
“Dick, Richard, whatever his name is. He hurt Billy and I’m going to…”
“I already dealt with it, please calm down” Wanda asks.
“Unless you ran him over with your car, it’s not enough”
“I did threaten him with that” she says, which makes you laugh. “I’m serious. I did tell him I’d do it”
Wanda puts her hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at her.
“Are you better now?”
“Yeah. You should have told…”
“I wanted to but you weren’t there. So I had to deal with it the best I could” she says and you hang your head in defeat.
You hope one day the guilt of leaving like a coward can disappear.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I pushed you away, remember? Let’s just get something to eat. Ok?”
“Ok” you kiss the back of her hand, sighing.
“Look what we got you!” Tommy interrupts, unaware of the tension between you and her mom.
He shows you a plastic dinosaur with a cowboy hat and you scream.
“Coolest thing ever!”
“Three kids” Wanda laughs, walking away as you alternate between rawr and yeehaw sounds, holding the dinosaur up in the air.
—
The kids wouldn’t get on the plane until you showed them your ticket to Westview. Even then, they complained that two weeks was a long wait.
But still, they got on the plane and you were seeing Wanda next Thursday, as it was her final meeting with Wendy’s team.
“Love you two”
“Love you three” they answered and how you missed hearing those words from them.
Everything is still the same when you go back to work. But the kids visit has made you look at things differently.
You don’t feel so alone, and you’re more optimistic about the future. Even Lorne has noticed and is taking full advantage of your mood.
Yelena’s the one with the attitude as soon as you come back.
“Anything interesting happened this weekend?”
“Ask your friend” she says without looking up from her notes.
“What did you think of Sharon?”
“She’s fine. Whatever”
“Fine as in attractive or fine as in capable? I hope it’s the latter because Bishop won’t be happy about the other one…”
“Can you stop being so fucking annoying for a second?” she snaps, standing up to leave.
It’s like that the entire day. You ask her to do something and she complains, speaks through her teeth or simply refuses to acknowledge you.
The only thing you can think to do of is bitch about it to Natasha.
“Is your sister in her late teenage years or some shit?”
“She’s just pissed because you’re leaving” Natasha doesn’t look up either, well aware of Yelena’s behavior.
“Well, she knew I was leaving after three months! That’s hardly a shock”
“You were the one that said you’d never move to Boston and here you are” she levels you with an icy glare. “You can’t really blame her for hoping you’d stick around longer than three months”
“I guess, but still. It’s nothing personal”
“She gets attached easily. Ask mom how many strays she picked on the street”
“So now I’m a dog?” you say, and Natasha smiles.
“Yeah, like a retriever. You’re always goofy. Plus you catch all those balls like it’s second nature”
“Heard about the other game, huh?”
“I’m not going to assume what Yelena thinks or feels, but you should definitely talk to her” Natasha looks at you. “And for what is worth, you’ve made a good impact on the staff. They’re gonna miss you too”
“Are you?” you say when she stands up to leave.
“Nope. I’m taking your parking spot”
“Hey!”
She looks back and smiles. You return the gesture, knowing what she’s trying to say.
“It’s a nice parking spot” you admit. “Closer to the cafeteria”
“Exactly. See you later”
“Thanks. For helping me out with Yelena. And for wanting to be my friend even though I can be an ass” you say.
“You’re a nice ass. Wait, that came out wrong” she frowns and you laugh.
“I got the point”
Natasha smiles and nods your way one last time. And as far as you’re concerned, you’d really want to keep avoiding Yelena, but you better go and find her.
She’s in an on call room, and all but groans when you walk inside.
“I’m leaving in two weeks. Believe or not, it’s not easy for me to make this choice, Yelena. I know staying would be better for my career. Your mom is paying me shitloads of money. And the city has its charm, I’m not gonna lie”
“Ok, is there a point or…?”
“I’m coming back to Westview because… I found the one thing I never thought I’d have. A family that loves me. After my dad passed away I didn’t really have a place to call home. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here at all, because it was unfair to create an expectation. But I won’t lie and say I regret it. You’ve grown so much and you have so much talent. I’m really fucking proud of being your teacher”
Yelena looks away, and you sigh.
“Anyways, better get back to…”
“Thank you. Even if it was for a short time, I’m happy you were my teacher” she finally says, wiping a tear and smiling at you.
“Thanks, kid. We are a good team” you sit next to her, nudging her knee with yours. “One could even say we trauma bonded, huh?”
“I hate you”
—
The last thing you want to hear after a very bad shift is Lorne’s voice proposing to play a game.
“I just feel like I never got to know you!” he insists.
“Walking in on me changing clothes wasn’t enough for you? Glad you’re knocking after that, by the way”
To be honest, it was fun to watch him shriek as he saw you half naked. And how he volunteered to take the sexual harrassment course even though it was pretty obvious he didn’t mean to be a peeping tom.
“No, I mean things like, your favorite cake flavor, or favorite color. And are you a balloon girl? Or more of a glitter gal?”
“Neither. I don’t want a farewell party” you say, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
It’s stupid to throw a party to someone who’s been part of the staff for only three months. And from day one, everyone knew you weren’t staying.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he plays dumb and you chuckle, signing forms while you check your watch.
You better get going if you want to pick up Wanda from her meeting.
“Mhm. No parties. Seriously” you hand over the charts, glaring at him.
He nods, but you don’t really believe he’ll give up. If Yelena sides with him, you’ll have to accept your fate.
“Ready to go?” Sharon says, greeting you at the hallway.
She’s been picking up some shifts, to see if she likes the job. Melina made her an offer as soon as she sat down for the interview and you’re convinced the only reason she hasn’t let you leave early is because Yelena would throw a tantrum.
“Yeah, I have to pick up Wanda. How’s everything? You like it here?”
“Very much, everyone’s nice. The facilities are amazing and it’s a very interesting challenge. Don’t tell anyone yet, but I’m accepting the job offer”
“Congratulations. They’re very lucky to have you” you say, smiling.
“Thank you, for recommending me. I’ll let you go now” she says when she gets paged.
By the time you reach the address Wanda sent out, she’s wrapping up the meeting.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry” you say as you walk in on people chatting around the conference room.
“Not at all, please come in” Wendy says.
“Hello, darling” Wanda greets you with a kiss on the cheek. “We were only talking about tonight. There’s this party with some editors”
“Oh, that sounds nice” you try not to sound disappointed, because you were hoping to spend the evening with Wanda.
“Sorry for the short notice but you’re going to be my plus one” Wanda puts her arm around your waist and you relax against her.
“Can’t say no to my girl”
As you’re saying goodbye, Wendy’s assistant stops by. There’s a wave of excitement as soon as Lily shows off the baby.
“I thought it was a boy” Wanda says, approaching her.
“We did too. Apparently our doctor’s stupid. No offense, Y/N”
“Hey, I just rode in the ambulance. But congrats. What’s her name?”
“Marygold”
“I love that name” Wanda and you say at the same time.
Lily hands over the baby to Wanda, and as she cooes at the little girl, you look over her shoulder, your hand on Wanda’s waist.
“She’s such a cutie”
“You both look good with a baby” Wendy jokes and you smile.
“Babe, they’re conspiring to get us pregnant”
Wanda tries to laugh at your joke, but your closeness is distracting. She wants to focus on Marygold but gives up a moment later, and you intercept the baby before she returns to her mother’s arms.
“You’re gonna have to teach me that move” Lily comments when you sway her gently and lull her back to sleep.
“Natural talent, I’m afraid” you joke.
You’re so focused on the baby that you don’t notice Wanda’s intense gaze on you.
Of course, someone else takes Marygold and you leave with Wanda.
“So, work thing, huh? Sounds fun. Is it more business, casual?”
“Just a small dinner, nothing fancy. And we definitely don’t have to stay for long” she says, looking out the window.
“You ok?” you ask after a few moments of silence, placing your hand on her thigh.
“Yeah” Wanda turns to smile at you.
You miss the way she shivers when you squeeze her thigh, and Wanda’s sure you’re keeping your hand there in an innocent gesture.
But seeing you holding a baby, with your strong arms (that are a lot more buff now) practically made her ovulate on the spot.
She has to be extremely patient, but once you’re in your building and the elevator’s doors close, Wanda corners you, her pupils dilated.
“Wanda?” you say, completely blindsided by the way she has you against the metal walls.
“I want you… fuck. I want you to put a baby in me”
Your attention is split between her words and the fact she’s unbotting her blouse in the middle of the elevator.
“I, technically… biologically, I mean” you stutter as she reveals a black lace bra.
“You’re not even gonna try?” she taunts, undoing your pants and sinking her hand to play with your clit through your underwear.
“Fuck, not what I meant, bunny” you mutter against her temple, while she edges you. “Can you behave until we get there?”
“No” she says against your lips, swallowing your moans.
The doors open into the Penthouse and you’re about to carry Wanda to the bedroom when she pushes you away.
“Why?”
“Give me five minutes to change”
“You don’t need to change, you’re gonna be naked” you whine, taking a look at her cleavage.
“So you don’t wanna see the entire thing? It has stockings. And a thong”
“Can I rip it off of you?”
“No. They were very expensive”
“I’ll reimburse you” you insist. She laughs and you pout, but let her walk to the room, with an extra sway to her hips just to tease you.
You pace around the kitchen, like a caged animal. To be fair, last time Wanda was here you didn’t have a chance to be alone.
That makes you remember the thing you bought and stored inside the safe, just to make sure no one would find it. If Wanda wants to play dirty, you should surprise her as well.
While you adjust the new toy, the bedroom door opens and you practically sprint inside.
“Oh, my”
Wanda’s sitting in bed, her hair down. You take it all in, starting from the heels she’s still wearing, to her beautiful slender legs, the stockings held by a suspender belt.
You kneel at the foot of the bed, and she’s happy to make room for you between her legs.
“No ripping” she warns you as a hand reaches for her thighs.
“I’m not…”
“I’m serious” she says, gripping your chin between her fingers. “Say you understand”
“I understand”
“Good girl”
“You know, you should be the one begging” you say, your hands going up and down her calves while you kiss the exposed skin. “Weren’t saying you wanted me to get you nice and pregnant?”
“It doesn’t hurt to remind you I call the shots”
“Do you, now?” you smile up at her and Wanda holds her breath. She understands a second too late, that you have something of your own to tease her with.
With a chuckle, you push her thong aside and dart your tongue out, tasting her. You both moan and she places her hand in your head, pulling you closer.
You can tell she’s close when you feel her movig her hips against your mouth, so you slow down, until she’s whining.
“I didn’t say you could stop” she says.
“You better watch your tone or I’ll fuck the attitude out of you, baby” you stand up, puling your shirt up. Wanda’s hands go down your abs, which is amusing. Ever since you got back together, it hasn’t been lost on you how she eyes them and tries to get little peaks when your shirt rides up.
“Did you get a new…?” she says when her hand goes lower, feeling the strap on that you’re packing.
“See? I am putting a baby in you” you smile, pushing your thumb past her lips.
Wanda pulls your pants down, and takes the plastic cock between her hands. It takes you by surprise when she spits on it and then smears her saliva all over it. Before you can do anything else, her mouth is on it, and the pressure goes directly to your clit.
“Come on, let me fuck you” you plead, though you’re on the edge.
“Good old missionary?” Wanda pulls you down with her, your lips meeting in a messy kiss.
“God, yes, I want to hear your pretty moans” you say, lining up the toy against her cunt, and you find no resistance as you slide inside.
“Fuck, yes” Wanda moans, holding the back of your neck. You thrust harder when you feel her heels digging on your back, and she’s everywhere. Her scent is invading your nose, you feel her hot breath against your ear and her moans are all you can hear as you keep fucking her, losing control until she practically screams your name.
“Fuck, that was good” she says, as you keep moving your hips, waiting for her breathing to slow down. “I need a minute”
“Ok, I’ll just stay inside and focus on these two” you say, pulling the bra down and sucking on one of her nipples.
Wanda’s protests die down in her throat as you move to the other nipple, readjusting so you’re buried deeper inside.
She pushes you and you’re about to complain when she flips you over, straddling your lap.
“Alright then. Round two”
“Bring it, Maximoff”
—
It’s a miracle you leave the penthouse at all. Between having sex on every surface, eating and sleeping, it’s time to leave for Wanda’s work dinner.
“You look very fuckable, baby” you compliment her mini skirt, knee high boots and long sleeved sweater.
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all day?”
“I mean, I could picture pulling that skirt up and just fucking you against a wall” you say, laughing when she puts her head against the headrest.
“Lets forget about this work thing and go back to bed, please?”
“That’s not very professional of you”
“I know. But you’re not playing fair”
“It will be worth the wait, I promise”
Wanda gets out of the car as you talk to the valet. She walks inside, saying hello to a few people and picking up a glass of wine. She’s about to greet Wendy when a man gets in her way. It’s one of the assistant editors, though she can’t even remember his name.
“Hey, Wanda. Glad to see you made it”
“Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world” she says, though she would absolutely miss it for more hours of hot sex with you.
“I didn’t bring anyone either, so maybe we could be each other’s date?” he jokes, but Wanda doesn’t smile at that.
“Actually, I…” she tries to say but he completely ignores her.
“As a matter of fact, I regret not doing this sooner, but I wanted to ask you out. And I know this is your last trip to Boston but I was hoping we could…”
You walk in that precise moment, smiling at Wanda.
“Hi there, sorry. Had to make sure they knew how to park the Corvette. I’ll have what she’s having” you turn to the man, who shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable.
“Not a waiter. I’m an assistant editor. Working on Wendy’s book. I’m sorry, I didn’t know Wanda was bringing a friend”
“I didn’t know either. Who did you invite, baby?” you play dumb, knowing exactly what was going on.
“No one, my love. This is my girlfriend, Y/N” Wanda leans against you.
“Doctor Y/L/N” you correct her before he can introduce himself. You don’t want to be on a first name basis with this asshole.
“My name’s Bobby. So, what kind of doctor? Eye stuff?”
“Trauma. ER stuff”
“Drunk people and broken bones?” he tries to joke.
“No, more like stab wounds. You’d be surprised how much damage you can do with the tiniest thing” you comment, picking up a tiny fork with a bored expression. “I mean, just the right spot and your entire carotid blows up. Gone in three seconds”
“Oh, darling, not everyone gets your medical humor” Wanda laughs a little too loud, pulling you away. “Anyways, nice talking to you, Bobby”
Bitch ass Bobby.
“Shut up” Wanda nudges your side, but she’s laughing too.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes” she smiles when you pull her close.
“Didn’t like the way he was staring. I mean, you are beautiful and everyone should acknowledge it. But he looked like he thought he had a chance”
“Nothing could be further from the truth”
“Between this and tiny Dick back in Westview I’m thinking I should put a ring on it before they cause any more trouble” you laugh, kissing her temple.
It’s a joke and Wanda can tell, because immediately after speaking you’re gulfing down entrees and talking about your plans for tomorrow, but she still thinks about the ring she found and how it’s been sitting on a box for three months now.
“Everything ok, babe?”
“Yeah, just tired” she says, and it’s not exactly a lie, not after four hours worth of cardio.
“We can relax tomorrow. I’ll cook for you” you promise.
Wendy and other people approach you and you’re charming them in no time. It’s very amusing to learn they all heard the story of Lily’s baby and how you walked in to save the day.
Speaking of which, at some point during the evening, someone calls for a doctor.
“Huh” you comment when you spot Bobby coughing, something clearly stuck on his throat.
“Go” Wanda pushes you, but you lean against the bar, sipping on your drink.
“Don’t worry, it’s fine. He has one more minute before it gets dangerous”
But at Wanda’s insistence, you sigh and put your glass down, walking towards the man.
“Alright, here we go” you say, doing the good old Heimlich maneuver on him. Though your grip might be a little too strong as you squeeze his mid section.
Something comes flying out of his mouth and you put him down, looking bored.
“See? He’s fine” you say when you return to sit next to Wanda. He looks anything but, shaking and losening his tie. “I mean, he’s not dying”
Wanda rolls her eyes, but kisses your cheek. You spend the rest of the evening glued to her side, hands wandering down her back and gripping her waist. It’s like you’re addicted to feeling Wanda’s body against yours.
“You’re making it really hard to focus” she teases when you’re finally alone.
“I’m sorry, I guess I’m gonna miss you. I know I’m going back to Westview next week but I…”
“What?”
“It’s nothing” you look away, sighing.
“Detka”
But Wendy takes Wanda to meet some people, and you stay at the bar, looking around the room. When Wanda finally comes back, she can tell you’re tired and she says goodbye to everyone.
“Lets walk for a bit” she asks, taking your hand and pulling you towards a park. You nod and follow her, still thinking about everything you’re feeling.
Your thougts are interrupted by a street musician, singing a song you’re not familiar with.
“I know this one” Wanda says, reading your expression. “Reflecting light”
“It’s really beautiful”
“Come on” she offers her other hand, and you smile, your hands on her waist as she rests her head on your shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” she finally asks and you laugh.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“I know you”
“I just…” you sigh, looking at her. “I’m going back to Westview and I have to undo the mess I left at the hospital. The city will be the same, but I’m not the same anymore… and I don’t know, I’m scared that everything will just feel wrong, or I’ll screw up”
“Sweetheart” Wanda interrupts your rambling. “I don’t think either one of us is the same. But that’s a good thing. It means we learned from our mistakes and we’re stronger. It’s gonna be alright”
“You promise?”
“I can promise you this. I’m here for better and worse”
"Sickness and health?” you joke, but your heart beats faster when Wanda looks into your eyes, nodding slowly.
“Yes, my love. Through all of that” she promises, kissing you softly.
As you sway to the soft music, you both think about the future together.
It’s looking good as long as you have each other.
226 notes
·
View notes
Text
plots and plans



the team's gotten to know spencer's gf very well... but now there's a new face in the bau (aka emily gets initiated into the team... by meeting mystery girl!)
a/n: this fic took an ungodly amount of time its been in my drafts for months but <333 mystery girl <333 (this is fr just a bau team fic at this point)
(look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)
cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), the team plotting, use of y/n eugghhhhh
wc: 3.4k
part one | part two | mlist
(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )
SSA Emily Prentiss is perfectly wonderful. Garcia thinks so, and so does Morgan. Sure, they miss Elle, and they miss working with her, but leaving the BAU was something she’d needed. Besides, Penelope wasn’t letting Elle out of the team’s outings anyway.
So, the two of them really have nothing against Prentiss. She’s kind, good at her job, and fits into the dynamic of the team well. However, at the end of her third case with the team, something of interest happens that makes them start to plot against her. Lovingly.
Morgan’s on the phone with Garcia, letting her know that the unsub was in custody, when Emily comes up to him, tapping his shoulder. Without hanging up, he draws the phone away from his ear, turning to her questioningly.
“Morgan. Can I ask you something? About Reid?” At his sound of agreement, she plows on.
“Does he… He’s so young. Do you think he’s had the social experiences he needs?” She shakes her head slowly. “He’s so sweet that it makes me worry. I mean, a kid going to university at 14, that’s got to make you miss out on a lot of things, right?” She gestures to Spencer, and Morgan turns to see him.
Spencer is fiending off the officers mobbing him with thanks and congratulations for his breakthrough on the case. A smile creeps up on Morgan’s face, watching him fiddle with his hands and bow his head nervously, trying to find a way out of the group.
“I mean, yeah, Reid’s a little clueless in some ways, but I don’t think it really affects him too much. He’s learned to adapt quickly.”
Emily frowns, still looking at Spencer. “I feel like there are things everyone deserves to experience, you know? He hasn’t been able to do so many things because he’s achieved so much. I mean, he’s never even dated someone, has he? Did you see the way he handled that witness?”
Morgan bites back the urge to laugh uncontrollably. Earlier in the case, Spencer was interrogating a witness, Morgan, Emily and Gideon watching through the one-way mirror. He recalls the way the woman grabbed hold of Spencer’s patterned tie, twisting the fabric in her fingers with a sly smile. Spencer, the sweetheart he is, had recognised the flirting, but did his best not to mention it, pulling his tie out of her grip multiple times as he stuttered through his questions, until Gideon came in to save him.
Morgan recognised that for what it was, Spencer’s incredulity that anyone other than you, the person he’s so obsessed with, would ever try something with him.
But Emily, poor, sweet, Emily, had assumed the same thing the rest of the team had, years ago. That Spencer was nothing more than an inexperienced nervous wreck, that had never even kissed a girl. Morgan shamefully remembers the time he’d been proven wrong of this same assumption.
Emily’s face is so earnest, that Morgan almost doesn’t want to pop the bubble, disturb her impression of Reid. Instead, he just pats her shoulder with the hand not holding his phone.
“Trust me, Prentiss. Reid’s missed a few things, but he’s fine.”
Walking away from her, he remembers that he didn’t hang up the phone, bringing it up to his ear to hear Garcia speaking rapidly, clearly having heard his exchange with Emily.
“-and she doesn’t know! Oh my god, you hunk, wouldn’t that be so good? She’d experience what we did back then and-” Morgan cuts her off.
“Babygirl, what? I didn’t catch that first bit, who’s going to experience what?”
Garcia takes a deep breath, and Morgan can picture her smile. “Okay, I know you're always thinking, ‘what is the wonderful thing about having the most beautiful and brilliant woman you’ve ever seen in your life?’, and, sweetheart I’ll tell you. It’s that I have a wonderful, wonderful brain, and I have a plan we have to set in motion.”
Derek sighs, but he knows he’s all in before she even says the word. “Alright, princess. Hit me with it.”
Garcia insists that the plan must be unfolded in three stages. Three stages, in order to make sure that Emily’s introduction to you will be just as bewildering as it was to them.
Stage 1: Confirmation.
Emily’s assumption of Spencer’s inexperience had to be nurtured, demonstrated to her, to lull her into a false sense of security, the way the team had for far too long.
Morgan and Garcia begin just one week after the case, a paperwork day where the team is confined to the bullpen for hours. Emily is sat at her desk, across the aisle from Morgan’s, when Garcia walks by, a phony excuse for her presence spilling out of her mouth.
“Just got to drop these files off to Gideon!” She speaks too loudly, to no one in particular, and Morgan groans internally at her unsubtlety. Emily quirks an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t say anything, even when Garcia taps her nose in a very exaggerated manner.
No time to cover up for her, Morgan’s got work to do, and a time limit to boot.
“So, Prentiss. You’ve had three cases here so far, you’ve gotten to know the team. I wanna know, what are your impressions of all of us?” Emily narrows her eyes at him, but swivels her chair so she’s facing him. Bingo.
He grins as she leans forward, speaking lightly. “My impressions? What, you want me to profile you guys?”
He holds up a finger. “Ah ah ah. I’m a profiler too, don’t act like you haven’t been doing that to us since the day we met. Now, tell me. Why don’t you start with, say, Reid?” He winces internally, hearing the eagerness in his voice. Despite that, Emily replies readily.
“Well, I’m probably just going to tell you things you already know. He’s brilliant, insecure, anxious about not only himself but us, worries about his mother all the time. Socially unsure of himself, especially in non-professional settings.” As she speaks, Spencer walks into the bullpen from Gideon’s office, accompanied by Garcia, whose eyes are filled with poorly-contained mischief.
“...and, my good doctor, she was flirting with you! Didn’t you see the way she tried to give you coffee for free?” An expression of puzzlement flits across Spencer’s face, looking at Garcia as he grips the file in his hand.
“Garcia, why are we talking about this again? That happened weeks ago, and I still don’t think she was doing anything more than-” She cuts him off with a palm facing him, barreling forward with her rant, eyeing Prentiss blatantly as she speaks.
“You never think they’re doing anything more until they’re the ones gripping those little ties of yours. Spencer, you don’t think anyone is ever flirting with you!” Prentiss nods at Morgan, speaking under her breath with a smirk.
“Uncomfortable in non-professional settings, especially romantic ones.” She sits back in her desk chair, swivelling away as Garcia ushers Spencer to his desk, ignoring all of his questions.
Spencer sits with a huff, confused. He pulls out his phone surreptitiously.
SPENCE <3: They’re being weird. Again.
Garcia has filled JJ in, and she is ecstatic. She still remembers the horrifying embarrassment that she hadn’t realised something so huge about her best friend. It might be a little juvenile, but it will definitely bring her a little comfort if Emily, profiler extraordinaire, makes the same mistake.
It’s five days later, and they’ve moved onto the second phase of the plan.
Step 2: Doubt.
Garcia has decided that sowing seeds of confusion, the way the team had been confronted that one time at the bar, was the way to make sure Emily has the full experience of being one-upped by that infuriating man, according to her.
JJ’s role is the whisperer, making sure that Emily witnesses suspicious activity. She’s taking this immensely seriously, Garcia having impressed upon her the responsibility of this guise.
Walking past Spencer’s desk, she shoots a glance at Emily, confirming her distraction, before speaking into the room, “Everyone had a good day off yesterday? Spence, went to that exhibit at the Living Museum?”
A dreamy smile flashes over Spencer’s face, before he makes sure to school his features, allowing only a small grin to remain. “Um, yeah. We went to go see the aviary, they’ve got some new Southeast Asian birds in.” Yes. JJ resists the urge to smirk, but her hopes are quickly dashed when Spencer moves on without a word. “I think Gideon would really enjoy it actually, I’ve been meaning to…” She groans internally, tuning out of his meandering ramble about bird migration patterns. There’s no way Emily clocked that tiny ‘we’.
JJ isn’t one to give up easily, though. Any good plan requires patience, so she waits another day before attempting again.
The team is on the jet on the way to a case, and JJ is sitting strategically at the table with Emily, Derek, Spencer, and Garcia on the grainy laptop screen. Garcia’s hands fly around animatedly as she finishes describing the state of the case.
Hotch raises his head from the case file, proceeding to assign everyone preliminary tasks, when JJ nods at Garcia subtly, and watches as she begins to rush around her office in a whirl, finally snatching up her cell phone. It’s a wonder that no one else notices the rush of movement on the screen, leaving JJ holding her breath, hoping that Emily or Spencer don’t catch wind.
Finally, two minutes later, Garcia sits back down at her desk, feigning nonchalance.
“Yep! Okay, sounds like you guys all have it under control, so— I’m going to go, do my techy things in my techy room. Okay? Garcia out!”
The image of her disappears from the screen, and JJ grips her mug tightly, fearing that Garcia gave it away. Gideon chuckles, but other than that, it seems that everyone has written it off as a regular Garcia-ism. Thank god. Hotch continues his spiel.
A few seconds later, Spencer’s cell phone rings, the ringtone different from the one everyone is used to hearing when he’s called by one of the team members, but JJ recognizes the 8-bit rendition of Vivaldi’s Summer that you helped him set up for your number.
She can see Emily tilt her head from next to her, but JJ resists the urge to look up, keeping her eyes trained on the case file in her hands, and nodding along with Hotch’s words.
The sound of Spencer rustling around for his phone meets her ears, and the subtle sigh of happiness that he lets out when he sees the caller ID. The beep of him accepting the call and standing to walk to the kitchenette float through the cabin, and the whispered ‘excuse me’ when he walks into the curtained room.
JJ can almost hear the confusion radiating from Emily, knowing that the newer agent’s utterly baffled at the sight of Spencer missing out on the discussion currently happening.
She can only pat herself on the back for having maneuvered Emily into the seat closest to the kitchenette, too, because the way she stiffens when hearing Spencer’s saccharine-sweet voice say ‘hey, angel’ is just the cherry on top.
JJ whips out her cell phone, texting Garcia discreetly that the plan was a success, receiving a flurry of emojis in return. Unseen, Gideon looks over her shoulder.
In the kitchenette, Spencer furrows his brows, confused.
“Wait, Garcia told you I needed to talk?”
Your tinny voice flows through the phone and into his ear.
“Yeah! She texted and said you asked for me but wouldn’t call for some reason? I don’t know, it was strange. You know I don’t call you when you’re on a case, but I thought it was an emergency or something.”
He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“I told you, they’re being weird! I asked Morgan what was going on and he just laughed.”
Your matching sigh rings out. “If they’re not going to tell you, I think there’s nothing to do but let it happen until it comes out. They always tell in the end, anyway.”
His shoulders slump in annoyance, but he begins to nod.
“I guess you’re right. It’s still annoying.”
The case wraps up four long days later, and the team pile into a booth at O’ Keefe’s all in similar states of sleep-deprived delirium. Spencer would much rather be at home right now, but Garcia was persuasive as usual, crooning on about how ‘your ladylove gets you every day, can’t you give us one evening?’.
Despite his love for the team, their increased strangeness hasn’t abated over the days they were working.
Even now, JJ, Derek and Penelope sit across from Spencer in the booth, huddled around each other and whispering behind cupped hands. Granted, they weren’t this obvious over the last few days, but their drinks have only weakened their resolve to not let Spencer and Emily in on whatever they’re doing, not broken it.
Making up his mind to ignore them, Spencer has resorted to leaning into the other end of the booth, chatting idly with Gideon, Hotch and Emily. Hotch is smilier than usual, three beers deep and showing them a seemingly endless amount of baby pictures of Jack from his wallet.
He can’t help but smile at the grainy photos of the chubby baby, grinning to himself at the memory of the last time he saw Jack.
He’d been leaving the office to meet you, and ran into Hotch and Haley in the elevator, stroller in tow. The image of you excitedly waving at little Jack, holding out your hand and letting him grip on to your index finger is burned into his brain. He’ll probably never forget it, eidetic memory or not.
The multiple drinks he’s had allow a lovestruck look to settle on his face as he half-listens to Hotch’s tales. They also make sure that he doesn’t notice the puzzled look that Emily flashes at him, same as the ones she’s been sneaking for days now.
However, no amount of drinks can let him ignore the strange way that Gideon is acting. The stately profiler is normally rather talkative on nights like these, subtly teasing the team or devolving into long tangents about an old far-fetched story.
Tonight, however, he’s silent, merely nodding along to Hotch’s words.
Spencer can’t help but be weirded out, especially when he catches Gideon looking over at him with an expression of repressed mirth, as if he knows something Spencer doesn’t. It’s slightly infuriating, the way it feels as though everyone is keeping things from him these days.
He knows it’s not exactly the smartest thing to do, but he offers to go to the bar for another round of drinks. If they’re going to be weird, he might as well have something to help tide him over.
You’re at home when Gideon calls, informing you that Spencer’s gotten more drunk than usual, and it’s probably a good idea that you come get him.
As you pull on your coat, you can hear Spencer ranting loudly about Rachmaninoff in the background, laughing to yourself when Gideon assures you that he’s fine.
(Curiously, you hear an unfamiliar voice question Gideon, ‘Who’re you calling?’ before he hangs up.)
Arriving at the dimly lit bar, you crane your neck to try and glimpse Spencer and his coworkers, coming up blank.
You’re just about to call Gideon again when a suspiciously swaying, lanky individual catches your eye. Sure enough, Spencer is standing by a wall, gripping a glass in both hands and staring into the middle distance, seemingly alone.
Pocketing your cell phone, you make your way over to him, feeling a familiar infatuated smile start to bloom on your face.
“Hey, handsome. You here alone?” He blinks rapidly before focusing on you, eyes widening dramatically.
“You’re here! How are you here, I thought-” He hiccups, the action causing his entire body to wobble, your hand shooting out to steady him.
“I thought you were at home!” He takes the hand you have on his waist, tugging you closer until he can drape himself against your side, tall frame hunched over you.
You have to giggle, widening your stance so you can support the two of you as you look around the bar, hoping to find any of his coworkers.
Unfortunately, you come up blank, assuming they're in the booths towards the back that you can’t see. Sighing, your hand comes up to rub at the nape of his neck, causing Spencer to sigh happily, bending even further so that his face is buried in your hair.
“Spence, where’s the team? We’ve gotta say goodbye before we go,” You murmur softly, feeling him relax further and further. His voice is higher than normal, muffled due to his refusing to raise his head from yours.
“I dunno, they’re sitting… somewhere, and Emily said she’d come find me after I came here. Did you know, she listens to Eric Carmen? I was telling her about the lawsuit Rachmaninoff’s estate filed against him, and…”
He must keep talking, you can feel the vibrations against the crown of your head, but he’s shifted his face to where his mouth is pressed against your scalp, taking with it any hope of understanding his words.
You’re waiting patiently for him to finish, when a dark-haired woman catches your eye. She stands a few feet away from you, peering at you curiously, as if trying to suss something out. Her face is obscured due to the shadowy lights, but she looks vaguely familiar.
Stopping your ministrations on Spencer’s neck, you entreat him to look up.
“Hey, do you know who that is?” He raises his head with a heaving sigh, as if it’s taking all his energy. He nods once, before returning his face to your hair, snatching your hand and placing it on the back of his neck again.
“Yeah, it’s Prentiss.” He falls silent after that, but at least he gave you something.
You’ve heard a lot about Emily Prentiss from him, although you haven’t had the chance to meet her yet. Waving her over, you smile brightly.
“Hi! You’re Emily?”
She walks over to you, expression wary, until she catches a proper glimpse of Spencer’s face, at least, what’s visible of it.
“Reid? It is you…” Her face is bewildered, confused, looking at you.
“Sorry, who are you?” You stick out the hand that Spencer isn’t holding hostage, shaking hers.
“Hi, I’m Y/N, his girlfriend. It’s really nice to meet you, I’ve heard great things from Spencer and the others.” She looks more stunned, if that’s possible, but stutters out a greeting.
It reminds you of the time you met the rest of the team, the way they’d stared incredulously at you when Spencer introduced you. Thinking back to Penelope’s multiple texts confirming that you weren’t coming tonight, it seems you’ve figured out why they’ve been acting weird.
You can’t help but smile pityingly at her, knowing how she’s feeling. Gesturing at the man clinging on to you, you give her an out from the conversation.
“I think I should be taking him home. Would you mind telling the rest where we went? I don’t want them to worry.”
She nods wordlessly, watching after you as you slowly lead Spencer out of the bar and into the night.
SSA Emily Prentiss is a profiler. A spy. She’s accustomed to learning everything there is to know about an individual within a few days of knowing them. It’s for these reasons that she stands, dumbstruck, in the middle of O’ Keefe’s.
Spencer Reid has a girlfriend. And she didn’t figure it out??
She resolves to go back through the profiling notes she’d taken in her time at the academy. Maybe twice.
Shuffling back to the booth, she’s stuck in her head, eyes wide and thoughts flickering at ten times their normal speed. It’s clearly noticeable, Derek looking concerned when she slides into her seat once more.
“Prentiss? Are you okay?”
She reaches out to snag her beer, turning the glass in her hand. Her voice is low, still confused as to how she missed it.
“Spencer’s girlfriend came to take him home.”
Her words incite identically incredulous squawks from JJ, Morgan and Garcia, all of them incensed.
“You met her? She wasn’t going to come tonight, we had a plan!” Penelope exclaims in frustration, looking around the table.
Gideon merely shrugs, his amused half-smile finally emerging.
“Plan took too long. Took it into my own hands.”
Morgan has to hold Penelope back from lunging at him.
#earlyseasons!spencer#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#writing#bau team#jj jareau#penelope garcia#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#matthew gray gubler#mystery girl!au#derek morgan#emily prentiss#jason gideon
189 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you see Nam-gyu introducing his s/o to drugs or do you think he’d be the type to shield you from that type of thing?
cw; talking about drug usage and unhealthy stuff here
mmmm based off of my interpretation of him, i don’t think he’d really try to “shield” you. just doesn't seem like something he'd do
i also don't think he would gaf if you knew about his substance abuse. you're his s/o. if you're with him, he's prob thinking "this is what you signed up for when you got with me." i could see him hiding it from his family, but not you.
with a job like his, it'd be pretty hard to hide, anyways. if anything, i think he'd try to at least hide or be vague about the intensity of the drugs he takes and just how addicted / dependent he is on them. he'd probably try to convince you that it's just something casual that he does or brush you off if you display any concern
i could see him wanting to keep the details of his drug usage off your radar, but not because he’s like. concerned that he’ll be a bad influence or rub off on you, or anything. nor would he do it with the intent of trying to protect you or keep you "innocent" / drug-free.
i don’t think he’d enthusiastically be like “here baby, snort this!!! take this pill!!! ❤️” out of nowhere or straight from the jump when he enters a relationship with his s/o. he also doesn’t seem like the type of dude to go out of his way to share what drugs he’s taking or even just his emotions in general. he seems like he’d be very closed off and be more than happy to keep that part of his life from you if you never asked / pushed the issue.
i think he’d just want to avoid his s/o giving him a hard time: asking too many questions about what he’s doing, how it’s affecting him, his health, their finances, and their relationship, and/or trying to get him to stop. he just wants to do what he wants while still keeping you in his life. he doesn't want you to complicate or overdramaticize things with your concern. he knows what hes doing and can handle himself.
but i think if you expressed any sort of interest or vague curiosity, he might initially be shocked, find it amusing, and be surprisingly interested in the idea of introducing you to something, jokingly offer to get you stuff, though he genuinely would if you just straight up asked him to do so.
i think he’d find it interesting / somewhat exciting to see your first-time reactions to things and would find himself enjoying it more than he expected to somewhere along the way, though i don’t think he’d force it on you. if you wanted to stop, he would be cool with that and drop it immediately. it doesn't matter to him whether or not you do drugs or are on the same page as him. he's doing his thing, and you're doing yours. he wouldn't mind and would be just as open to it if you were to ask him about it again later down the line, though.
if you asked him to give you something and lead you through it, i think he’d derive some sort of enjoyment from knowing a lot about something that you don’t, being your sole source of information on the topic, and knowing he's the first and only person that you experience those types of things with.
i could see him being an obnoxious ass trip-sitter just because he thinks it's funny / even getting some sort of ego because of it.
eg. if you start off with weed, he’s laughing at you for coughing, not knowing how to inhale right, and/or making a stupid, exaggerated face when you exhale. when you overestimate your tolerance and get high as fuck, he’s purposefully putting stupid shit on the tv to gauge your reaction (maybe some dumb children’s cartoon or compilation of idk. plants growing timelapse), laughing at you when you're super focused on it (not mean, just teasing / amused), and maybe he takes a few selfies with you to tease you about it later. he would smoke with you, too, but purposefully stays mostly sober so he can take care of you. also, his tolerance is naturally way higher than yours, and i think he'd find it funny if you got high extremely quick.
he says shit like "oh, i invited your entire family and also a hundred of your friends over to the apartment, and they're outside right now. i hope you don't mind" just to get a funny reaction out of you.
he's not entirely mean, though, and despite having his fun, he still wanted to make sure that your experience was good and comfortable from the get-go. he thought ahead and set out snacks and drinks for when you inevitably got the munchies / dry mouth. he has a line up of funny things to watch and a blanket set out to make sure that you're fine. he doesn't leave you alone. even though it's just weed, he doesn't want to scare you.
he feels good and pats himself on the back for taking care of you. he probably enjoys knowing that in that moment, you're completely depending on him and looking at him like he has all the knowledge in the world. he deeply enjoys the fact that you trust him enough to rely on him and trust that you'll come out of the experience okay, because he's there.
nowww, getting on to other drugs outside of weed, i could see him being more serious about it and wanting to make sure that you're okay. he's open and more than happy to provide you with the things you're showing interest in. sharing his knowledge that's completely foreign and new to you and bringing you into 'his world' is satisfying for him, but once it starts to get a little more dodgy / serious, he's very firm on asking you if you're sure and asks a lot more questions. "what are you feeling?" "what do you see?" "do you need water?" "tell me what's going on." etc. he doesn't completely coddle you, but he's not going to leave you alone, either.
also, i was obsessed with breaking bad in middle school LMAO, so it's leaking into this post... sometimes when i think about nam-gyu, i can't help but think about jessie pinkman. there's a particular scene in the show where jessie's gf, jane, introduces him to heroin for the first time, and i think i could see nam-gyu being like jane in this particular scene, with jessie being his s/o that he's introducing shit to.
over time, if you continued to express clear, enthusiastic interest and prove to him that you could handle it, i think that's when he'd finally let himself relax and do drugs with you, rather than staying sober to monitor you. i think he'd grow accustomed to doing things with you, almost falling into a routine or having it be "your thing." he'd sneak things from work that other people gave to him or things that he was supposed to be giving to VIPs and bring it home to share with you. he'd find that getting high with you specifically was more fun for him than when he did it with others.
ending it off with something somewhat lighthearted: after a while, nam-gyu realizes that he's actually kind of excited to have a long-term buddy to get high with. he would start suggesting that the two of you smoke a joint and then go to the aquarium, art gallery, the zoo, etc. if he got something new, he wouldn't let himself try it and wait until he got home to be with you.
tldr; i don't think he'd shield you, but he wouldn't be super open about it either if you didn't ask or push him to talk about it. if you asked him to introduce you to it, he'd find himself oddly excited by the idea. he'd do it but would make sure to keep you comfortable and ask you over and over if you were sure once you got to the more serious shit. he wouldn't push it, either, in the case that you wanted to stop or were uncertain.
#namgyu x reader#nam-gyu x reader#nam gyu x reader#player 124#squid game#squid game x reader#headcanons#inbox#speaking my nam-gyu truth 🧘🏻♀️#thank u sm for this ask btw!! this was really interesting to think about
55 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, I love your blog
Do you think that a lot of people at hogwarts had a crush on Harry? Do you consider him a dreamboat? I like to think that Parvati, Dean and even Neville had a crush on him at some point
Hi 👋
Thank you so much 💕
Honestly, yes. We know Harry was considered a catch at Hogwarts.
In 4th year before the Yule Ball, multiple girls ask him out (even older ones that didn't need a date to go to the ball):
“Why do they have to move in packs?” Harry asked Ron as a dozen or so girls walked past them, sniggering and staring at Harry. “How’re you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?”
(GoF)
A curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff girl to whom Harry had never spoken in his life asked him to go to the ball with her the very next day. Harry was so taken aback he said no before he’d even stopped to consider the matter. The girl walked off looking rather hurt, and Harry had to endure Dean’s, Seamus’s, and Ron’s taunts about her all through History of Magic. The following day, two more girls asked him, a second year and (to his horror) a fifth year who looked as though she might knock him out if he refused.
(GoF)
Cho Chang seems to have been open to it when he asked her out she declined becouse she already agreed to Cedric:
“D’you — d’you want to go to the ball with me?” said Harry. Why did he have to go red now? Why ? “Oh!” said Cho, and she went red too. “Oh Harry, I’m really sorry,” and she truly looked it. “I’ve already said I’ll go with someone else.”
(GoF)
And in OotP, Cho clearly was interested in Harry (not in his personality, but in who she thought he was):
“Yes, it’s on Valentine’s Day. . . .” “Right,” said Harry, wondering why she was telling him this. “Well, I suppose you want to — ?” “Only if you do,” she said eagerly.
(OotP)
Parvati was all for going with Harry Potter to the ball. So much so she dragged her sister to be Ron’s date so she could bag the Boy Who Lived:
“Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?” Parvati went into a fit of giggles. Harry waited for them to subside, his fingers crossed in the pocket of his robes. “Yes, all right then,” she said finally, blushing furiously. “Thanks,” said Harry, in relief. “Lavender — will you go with Ron?” “She’s going with Seamus,” said Parvati, and the pair of them giggled harder than ever. Harry sighed. “Can’t you think of anyone who’d go with Ron?” he said, lowering his voice so that Ron wouldn’t hear. [...] “Well . . .” said Parvati slowly, “I suppose my sister might . . . Padma, you know . . . in Ravenclaw. I’ll ask her if you like.”
(GoF)
Who ended up being a disappointing date. Harry being a lousy date didn't stop Parvati and Lavender from thinking Harry is hot though:
Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, the last two of whom gave Harry airy, overly friendly greetings that made him quite sure they had stopped talking about him a split second before.
(OotP)
And in HBP we see many girls trying to get Harry's attention:
Then he blinked and looked around: He was surrounded by mesmerized girls. “Hi, Harry!” said a familiar voice from behind him. “Neville!” said Harry in relief, turning to see a round-faced boy struggling toward him.
(HBP)
The second group was comprised of ten of the silliest girls Harry had ever encountered, who, when he blew his whistle, merely fell about giggling and clutching one another. Romilda Vane was amongst them. When he told them to leave the pitch, they did so quite cheerfully and went to sit in the stands to heckle everyone else. The third group had a pileup halfway around the pitch. Most of the fourth group had come without broomsticks. The fifth group were Hufflepuffs. “If there’s anyone else here who’s not from Gryffindor,” roared Harry, who was starting to get seriously annoyed, “leave now, please!” There was a pause, then a couple of little Ravenclaws went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter.
(HBP)
While I don't think Harry is Hermione's ideal romantic partner, she thinks he is a catch too:
“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione, suddenly impatient. “It’s not Quidditch that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.” Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry. [...] “And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring Ron. “I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially.
(HBP)
And I don't really ship Drarry, as in, I don't really like the dynamic, but I have eyes and I can see Draco can very much be read as having a crush on Harry. I mean, he seeks out Harry on the train literally every year except 6th (& 7th), he seeks Harry out whenever he can in general, and his wand (with a super loyal unicorn core that tends to wilt rather than work for another owner) works for Harry perfectly — which says something about Draco's feelings for Harry. (His behaviour towards Harry kinda reads as pulling pigtails — he just, really wants Harry's attention and goes out of his way to seek it out way too often).
Not sure if Neville had a crush on Harry (I see him as straight), but he definitely looks up to him:
Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled. “I knew you’d come! I knew it, Harry!”
(DH)
Harry is who all the DA look to lead them, though, to know what to do:
“Look who it is! Didn’t I tell you?” As Harry emerged into the room beyond the passage, there were several screams and yells: “HARRY!” “It’s Potter, it’s POTTER!” “Ron!” “Hermione!”
(DH)
The DA are happy to see Ron and Hermione, but Harry is first, Harry is their figure-head and source of hope, so it's not just Neville and I wouldn't really call it a crush. You can headcanon it, but, it didn't read that way to me.
Dean is a possibility, honestly, but I don't really have any evidence for it, so you could headcanon that too if you want. (It could be funny that Dean and Ginny are dating each other to make Harry jealous because both of them like Harry. They spend their dates talking about Harry).
And obviously, Ginny thinks Harry is a catch.
The point of all of this, is yes, Harry is good-looking by the later books and is considered a catch to various students at Hogwarts since his 4th year. The majority of them, though, don't really know Harry as a person. They see the Boy Who Lived, not Harry, and that's who the majority are attracted to.
#harry potter#hp#hp meta#asks#hollowedtheory#optimisticparadisekoala#harry james potter#harry potter meta#parvati patil#draco malfoy#dean thomas#neville longbottom#cho chang
134 notes
·
View notes
Text
well-read ✦ zayne x reader ✦ fluff/smut ✦ 2.6k words
You knew better, but the little terror that lives in your brain that loves sowing seeds of doubt tells you that your loving boyfriend is actually keeping his distance because he thinks you're into tentacle porn now. Zayne likes to know what you're reading. It's not what he was expecting.
p in v sex, fingering, established relationship, yes they use protection, bookworm!reader, fem!reader, not suitable for readers under 18
okay so i'm like halfway through 'stalked by the kraken' by lillian lark and that's what inspired this. plus i need zayne immediately. (also if you're into tentacles that's cool they're just not my cup of tea personally)
also on ao3
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
If Zayne were to write a list of things he loves about you it would be miles long. Just one of the things on that list would be your love of reading.
Zayne was a reader himself, although he spent most of his time with his nose in medical texts. As important as it was for him to keep up with the latest research in cardiology, he often wished he had the time to sit down with a different genre occasionally. Honestly, he was a little envious of you. You somehow always found time to read. Whether it be during lunch breaks, before bed, or even just for ten spare minutes while you were waiting for dinner to cook, you most likely had a book in your hand. And your library was vast. You devoured everything from epic fantasy to poetry to non-fiction on any topic that caught your interest. Zayne adored your intellectual curiosity. He was a firm believer that making time for reading was a good habit of self-improvement. So naturally, he took an interest in your current choice of book.
It was later than he would have liked, bordering on 9pm. The smell of stir-fry and rice hits him as he walks through his front door. He spots you, curled up on his couch with a cup of tea and an open book in your lap. Flipping the volume closed with a satisfying thump, you meet his gaze with a bright smile.
"Welcome home, love. I left some dinner for you on the counter."
God, you were so good to him.
"Thank you," he murmurs, making his way over to give you a chaste kiss. "I'll go and wash up first. Go back to your book."
You don't need to be told twice. You were still in the exact spot he'd left you once he returned, donning a comfortable shirt and sweatpants with a contentedly full stomach.
"Thank you for cooking, sweetheart. It was delicious."
You don't close your book this time, used to a quiet after-dinner routine of flipping through your respective literature.
"No problem. I had to cook for myself, anyway, so I just made double of everything."
"Well, I still appreciate it," he adds, sinking into the sofa beside you.
His eyes fall to your book. He couldn't tell what it was from the cover. You often covered your books with a simple strip of craft paper to ward off curious looks from your coworkers when you read on breaks. You simply didn't think they needed to know what you were reading about every day. You preferred to be inconspicuous, so a blank cover on one of your books was not an abnormal sight.
"What are you reading?"
It was a question he had asked hundreds of times, and that you had always been more than happy to answer. So the blush tinging your cheeks and the nervous twitch of your fingers was very odd, indeed.
"Oh, it's just more paranormal fiction," you explain, conveniently moving the book away from him and placing it on the side table.
"Just paranormal fiction, huh?" He strokes the backs of his fingers along your pink cheek. It was blissfully warm.
"What has you acting so suspiciously then, hmm?"
You huff and roll your eyes at him, the way you often did when he'd caught on to something you'd rather him not know.
"It's..." Your brow furrows as if trying to solve a particularly difficult riddle. He gestures for you to keep talking. "It's a romance. A paranormal romance."
He was a little underwhelmed by your response. You were known to enjoy a romantic film when you watched movies together, so why would reading a romance be a source of embarrassment?
"Sweetheart, we've been together for months. We see each other almost every day. You think I don't know you enjoy a little romance?"
You let out an exasperated sigh.
"It's just that... it's not a normal romance. It's... explicit."
He couldn't help but chuckle.
"You don't need to feel any shame about reading erotica, my love. Especially not around me. You know, the man you're sleeping with?"
"I know that." You turn in your seat to look at him now. "It's not exactly normal erotica, either."
Oh, now he's intrigued.
"How so?"
He swears he sees a glint in your eye before you reach behind you and hand the book in question to him.
"See for yourself."
・・・・・
It had been two days since you'd last seen Zayne. Not for any particular reason, you were both just busy with work and hadn't had the time to communicate much outside of a few quick texts. This wasn't out of the ordinary, but you can't help but feel anxious.
You shouldn't have given him that damned book.
You didn't even care that it was your only copy and that you couldn't keep reading it. You knew better, but the little terror that lives in your brain that loves sowing seeds of doubt tells you that your loving boyfriend is actually keeping his distance because he thinks you're into tentacle porn now.
That wasn't even true. Yes, the book you were reading was a romance about a woman who falls in love with (and fucks, multiple times) a kraken. Yes, it was pretty hot. But tentacles have never been something you've sought out and that wasn't about to change. This particular book was highly recommended on the few online forums you browsed, so you had decided to give it a shot, just out of curiosity.
You think about your sweet, mostly-vanilla Dr. Zayne reading the sex scenes in that book and you wish time travel were feasible so you could go back in time and snatch it away from the version of yourself that for some reason thought it would be a funny idea to give it to him.
But for now you needed to stop spiralling, because said sweet doctor was set to arrive at your apartment with dinner any minute now.
Another five minutes and he was standing in your doorway, take-out in hand and looking surprisingly... relaxed? Changing into the house slippers you kept for him, he greeted you with a sweet kiss and began serving the food onto plates.
Strange. You thought for sure he'd have at least some reaction. Maybe he hadn't read the book at all and you'd been worrying yourself to the point of being nauseous over absolutely nothing. Yes, that was probably it. He was a busy cardiac surgeon! Of course he hadn't had time to read your silly book.
You managed to reassure yourself enough to enjoy a relaxing meal, the both of you filling each other in on your busy work days. Being the gentleman he was, Zayne followed you into the kitchen to help wash up once you were both done. He'd just handed you the last of the utensils to dry when he softly cleared his throat.
"I read some of the book you leant me." You immediately freeze, not knowing what to expect. "I didn't realise you were into... that sort of thing."
You bury your face in the towel you were holding. Oh God, he did think you were into tentacles now.
"I fear I may lack the equipment necessary to act on such desires though."
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His brow is furrowed. He looks almost disappointed that he doesn't have tentacles. Oh God.
"I'm not into tentacles." Your voice is quiet. Embarrassed.
His relief is immediate. You might have laughed if you hadn't been so mortified.
"Well, what is it you do enjoy about the book, then? You were quite engrossed in it the other evening."
You sit yourself on the countertop with a huff. There was no avoiding the topic now. When Zayne wanted to know something, he was going to find out.
"It's not about the... appendages," you explain earnestly. "It's the emotions. It's about trusting someone so much you can show them your entire self, even in an intimate situation.
He nodded, considering your words, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Speaking of intimate situations, fuck this man was hot when he was deep in thought. It was unfair.
"Very insightful, love." He steps closer to you and you squeeze your thighs together a little in anticipation.
"It seems I need to revisit the story."
And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves you sitting on the counter all by yourself, stunned.
Now you really regretted giving him that damned book.
・・・・・
It had only been fifteen minutes but you were getting desperate. Fifteen minutes of using scrolling on your phone as a front for staring at him as he read. His foot was balanced on the opposite knee and is long fingers were splayed over the cover, occasionally coming up to readjust his glasses. You cross and re-cross your legs for what must be the tenth time. You can feel your clit throbbing, begging for some attention. You weren't even the one reading smut and somehow it was you fast approaching becoming a writhing mess. How was he so unaffected? He looked like he could be reading through medical files he was so nonchalant. What did he need to re-read this book now for anyway?
"Zayne?" you ask in a feeble attempt to break his concentration.
"Hmmm?" He doesn't even look up.
Fuck this.
Before you can chicken out you're striding over to him, taking the cursed book, knocking his foot to the ground and straddling him on your couch.
"Enough reading." You let the book drop unceremoniously onto the carpet behind you.
His shock only last for half a second before he's digging his fingers into your hips and pulling you closer.
"Thank God, I didn't know how much longer I could last."
You look down at him quizzically. "How much longer you could last?"
He groans and pulls you in even further. He's already hard under you.
"Thinking about you reading those things. Getting all hot and bothered. Touching yourself." Each sentence is punctuated with an open-mouthed kiss to your neck and collarbones. "I've been hard since I left the kitchen."
"And so you sat down and read for twenty minutes? Silly man." You start unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to have your hands on his skin.
"I wanted to give your very considered response to my question the thought it deserved." You ran your hands down his bare chest, enjoying the feeling of the ridges of his muscles against your fingertips.
"And what is your conclusion, Dr. Zayne?"
His hands slide back to grip your ass. "You're the smartest, sexiest woman I've ever laid eyes on. I am in awe of you."
You cup his cheeks in both hands, losing yourself in his beautiful eyes. No matter how many romance novels you read, no one could compare to this man.
"You're perfect," is all you manage to get out before you bring your lips to his, so overwhelming is your need for him.
You could kiss him forever and it still wouldn't be enough. Your hips have a mind of their own, rubbing your pussy along the ridge of his cock, the friction of the clothing between you adding to the heat between your thighs. You break apart to work off his shirt and he pulls your dress and bra down in one swift movement, baring your breasts to him, your nipples peaked and dusky pink. He immediately latches on, sucking one of the sensitive buds into his warm mouth. He's always been a sucker for your tits. Literally.
He works both your nipples, teasing and pinching whichever one is not in his mouth, being grazed against his teeth. Your arms are trapped at your sides under the straps of your dress and all you can do is moan wantonly and grind against thighs before he releases your tit with an audible pop.
"Fuck, Zayne, more." You're begging him. Your pussy is dripping and so, so empty.
"I know, darling, I know." He moves your dress up this time, removing it completely and leaving you just in your drenched panties. "Here or bedroom?" he asks.
"Here. Can't wait."
He lifts you up slightly so you're hovering over him and moves your panties to the side, sliding two long fingers between your lips. "You're drenched," he notes, with a reverence to his voice.
"Zayne, please."
He doesn't make you wait, pushing both fingers into your cunt. You lean your head on his shoulder, mouth open, panting. His fingers pump in and out slowly, the soft squelching sounds they make driving you closer to the edge. His thumb rubs little circles into your aching clit, just the way you like it. And then he stops.
You can't help the drawn out whine that leaves your throat.
"Love, I'm sorry, but with you whining in my ear like that, if I don't get my cock inside you right now I'm going to come in my pants."
You move quickly, unzipping his trousers and pulling out his dick, slightly curved and pink at the tip, shiny with his precum. He reaches into his back pocket for a condom and rolls it onto his length with swift strokes. His hands grip your thighs and he lets out a groan as you drag his tip along your swollen pussy, wetting him with your slick. He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust. "Ride me, sweetie."
Your moans tangle together as you sink down onto his cock, taking him to the hilt. The perfect fit, every time. He's watching you with pure love on his face. "You're so gorgeous." His hands spread across your ass, helping you slide up and down along his length. "Touch your clit, baby. I want you to come for me." You think you could orgasm from his voice alone in this moment, but you do as he asks, your cunt clenching around him as you roll the stiff bundle of nerves between your fingers.
"Close," you pant, eyes almost rolling into the back of your head. His cock feels so good inside you, stretching you just the right amount. "Come with me, Zayne, please, I need you." You're babbling, but he must hear you because he thrusts upwards into you, mouth on your tits again, chasing his high along with yours.
Your orgasm rips through you, your head thrown back as you body twitches in pleasure. After a few more thrusts the spasms of your hole around his length has him pulling your bodies flush together as his cock jerks inside you while he comes.
It takes you a moment to collect yourself, becoming aware of the sweat covering you and the wet mess you've left on Zayne's pants beneath your thighs. He pulls you in for a deep kiss before slowly pulling out of you. "I love you."
You smile into his kiss. "I love you, too, my big snowman."
He runs his fingers through your hair as you rest your head on his chest, waiting for your breathing to regulate.
"We should get cleaned up." You grunt in agreement but make no move to do so. Your eyes wander around the room, landing on the book you'd so carelessly tossed to the floor.
"How much of that book did you read, anyway?"
He glances at where it landed. "Only up to your bookmark. I figured I should read the same amount as you as to properly gauge your thoughts on it."
Always so thorough, your doctor.
"How about we read some more? Together?" you suggest.
You shriek as he stands up, picking you up with him, and starts carrying you towards the bathroom.
"An excellent idea as always, my love."
#zayne#lads zayne#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#lnds#zayne x reader#zayne x mc#zayne smut#zayne ff#zayne fanfic#love and deepspace ff#mine#my writing#smut
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
angel baby - theodore nott x reader
p: theodore nott x fem!reader w: just some fluff, theo pining, swearing, drinking, ooc(?), kinda modern au? (mentions 1996 romeo and juliet) s: after hearing who his crush is being at the slytherin's halloween party, theo decides to impress her with his own costume a/n: i know i know, very late, but i finally got around to finishing this and still wanted to post it
It was a week before Halloween, which to many, was one of the most anticipated holidays other than Christmas. But it wasn't the candy upper year students were excited for. Rather, it was the Slytherin party that would be happening that night.
All the girls were chatting about who they would be for the night. Ideas ranging from vampires to scantily dressed nurses. It was a night to show off.
Theo never cared much about the costume part. The past couple years he settled on skeleton face paint, mainly because his roommate Enzo has a surprisingly good eye for art.
Truthfully, he had planned to do the same again, despite Blaise's insistence on doing something different. But plans had changed for him.
Theo was at the Slytherin table with the rest of his friends as they chatted about the upcoming event of the season.
"I'm so excited for this party," exclaimed Daphne. "Have you guys decided on what you're wearing?"
"I've decided on a black cat," Pansy told them. "Got the perfect outfit and everything."
"Oooh you're gonna look so good Pans!" (Y/N) told her.
"I know, I'm so excited. What about you Daph?"
Daphne smiles. "I'm going to be a vampire." A sound of 'Ooos' was heard after the girl's answer. "What about you (Y/N)?"
(Y/N) giggles a bit before responding, the sound making Theo's heart pick up a bit. "Do you guys remember that one muggle movie we watched during summer?"
"Was it that weird one where that girl and boy died at the end because their families hated each other?" Draco chimes in.
The girl scoffed at Draco's comment. "Well yes, but you know its more than that." The boy rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, I think I want to be Juliet from the party scene."
"Oooh, is that the one where she's dressed as an angel?" asked Daphne. "You're going to look stunning!"
(Y/N) grins, thanking Daphne. Her smile made Theo's lips twitch a bit, wanting to mirror her. A small nudge was felt on the boy's left side where Mattheo sat, smirking at him. Caught red handed.
It wasn't like nobody knew about Theo's crush on his fellow Slytherin classmate. In fact, Mattheo had been the first to know about it, albeit, not by choice. Theo had kept his interest for the girl low key. It was just that Mattheo had notice Theo staring a little too long at (Y/N) one time and had basically got his friend to confess his crush.
After that, Mattheo had made it his mission to help Theo to get with (Y/N).
"I just wished I could have someone be my Romeo though," (Y/N) confided with her friends. "It would make the costume feel more complete."
"He was the knight right?" Asked Pansy. "That would be so cute."
This had caught Theo's attention again. The gears were beginning to turn in his head.
Back at the dorms, Theo was pacing, Enzo and Mattheo watching him from Mattheo's bed.
"So are you going to tell us what's happening or are we going to continue watching you burn a path in the floor?" Enzo asked his dormmate. "Feel like I'm getting dizzy from watching you."
Theo stops his tracks before looking towards his two friends. "I need to find a halloween costume."
Enzo stared at the boy, confused. While Mattheo had a feeling as to what was stirring in his friend's mind.
"You're going to match with (Y/N), huh?" Mattheo asked.
"Finally!" Enzo shouts, startling the other two. "Thank Merlin, I won't have to do that fucking face paint anymore. You know I was getting tired of that shit, right?"
Theo rolled his eyes at his friend.
"Anyways," Enzo began. "What's (Y/N) going to be?"
Mattheo answered. "An angel basically."
"She wants to be Juliet from that movie we watched over the summer." Theo explained to him as he sat on his own bed. "But during that party scene."
"And Romeo here wants to be her knight in shining armor," Mattheo said.
"Ooh. And let me guess, you need our help?"
"No, well, kinda," Theo said. "Help me find the perfect costume."
"And what will we get out of this?" Mattheo had a look of mischief in his eyes.
"Nothing."
"Well. Then you wouldn't mind if I asked (Y/N) to the party would you? Share a drink or two with her, maybe dance?"
"You wouldn't."
"Oh I would," his roommate said. "Unless you do my homework for a month."
"No bloody way."
"Fine. Three weeks."
"Two and that's final."
Mattheo thought for a second before grinning. "Alright, two weeks it is. Didn't think you'd actually go for it though, was just joking a bit."
"Oh you bastard, I'm going to kill you!"
That weekend, the boys had dedicated their time at Hogsmeade to finding stuff for Theo's costume. They had found the items surprisingly quick thanks to Enzo and his eye for things.
The three had ended their day at the Three Broomsticks with Draco and Blaise, who noticed the bags they carried, but decided to not question it (didn't stop Mattheo from telling them what was going on).
The day of the party had come way too soon for Theo's liking. He stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself with the costume on.
What if (Y/N) doesn't like his costume? What if she thought it was stupid and laughed at him? Should he have done this?
So many thoughts and scenarios ran through Theo's mind, he was half tempted to take the costume off and go for a smoke.
"Theo?"
The boy looked towards the door to find Enzo and Mattheo. The two were examing Theo's current state.
"You good?" Mattheo asked. Theo just shrugged.
"Come on mate," Enzo said to him. "She'll like the costume. And if she doesn't, who cares? Now, let's go for some shots. I know Mattheo has been itching for some."
After a few more minutes, Enzo and Mattheo had successfully gotten Theo out of the dorm room and into the Slytherin common room. And true to his word, Enzo had gotten a couple shots into his dorm mates to liven things up.
Things were going alright for Theo. A couple shots had gotten him feeling more loose, but he was still thinking about (Y/N), whose whereabouts were unknown to him.
He was grabbing another drink when he heard his name being called. Confused, he turned around to find the culprit.
"(Y/N)."
"Hi Theo."
The boy took a second to look at (Y/N)'s outfit, or what he thought was a second. He saw how intricate it was, almost like it was a replica of the costume from the film.
She looked like an angel.
"I like your costume," Theo heard her say. Seems like he wasn't the only one looking.
"Thank you. Don't look too bad yourself."
(Y/N) smiled at his comment. "Thanks. Made it myself."
"Well it looks lovely," Theo said to her. "Drink?"
She nodded, taking the drink Theo offered her.
"Who are you supposed to be?" She asked after taking a sip.
"Oh uh," the boy began. "Romeo. From the movie we watched back during the summer. Thought his party fit was cool."
"Really? Well I like it. You look really good Theo."
Theo felt his cheeks heat up. She liked his costume. He would have to thank Enzo (and maybe Mattheo) for his help.
The music in the common room had begun to slow down. Couples gathered with each other and swayed to the music. Theo turned his head and saw Mattheo dancing with a girl, but he was looking directly at him.
'Ask her' Mattheo mouthed to him, discreetly pointing at the girl next to him.
Theo nodded his head at his mate before turning to his crush beside him. Just as he was about to speak, the words on the tip of his tongue were stolen.
"Dance with me?"
(Y/N) looked up at Theo, waiting for his answer. Out of shock, Theo just nodded. Taking his answer, (Y/N) pulled Theo closer to the center of the room where everyone was. She wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands on her waist. Eyes gazing at each other. Everything felt perfect.
"So, why did you choose this costume, Theo?"
He faltered in his steps, surprised at the sudden question. He had two choices, he could be honest and admit his feelings, or lie and say Mattheo made him do it, which is something he would actually do. But the more he looked at her, realizing how close they were, he needed to say the right thing.
"I did it for you."
"For me?"
Theo nodded. "I heard how you wanted someone to match with you to make your costume feel complete. I wanted to make your night special. Because. I like you (Y/N)."
(Y/N) halted her steps, confusing Theo.
"You like me?"
The boy nodded, feeling slightly nervous. "Actually have a while."
(Y/N) took in this new information, nodding at him. The silence between them was killing Theo. He was half tempted to kill Mattheo if she said she didn't like him. Since technically, if he thinks about it, it would be.
As Theo was going through every little thought and concern in his head, he missed out on the girl in front of him trying to speak to him. He finally tuned back into the world when she said his name.
"Hm?"
"Theo, I was trying to tell you, I like you too," (Y/N) tells him with a smile on her face.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Well bloody hell finally," said a voice.
The two turned to see Mattheo looking at the two, seemingly having stopped dancing to spy on this moment.
"Thought I would never see the day come where Theo finally admits his feelings for you. I was thinking I was gonna have to make a move myself."
"Mattheo shut the fuck up." Theo glared at his roommate.
Mattheo stuck his hands up. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you too lovebirds alone. Don't be surprised when Enzo is asking you questions when you come back to the dorm." The Slytherin took his leave, relieving Theo.
"I hate that motherfucker," he mutters, raking his hands through his hair.
(Y/N) chuckles. "Maybe, but I think you don't mind him. You guys are best friends after all."
Theo laughs, shaking his head.
"So, I hear there's a Hogsmeade trip happening next week. Would you want to go on a date there?"
"I'd like that." (Y/N) grins.
#harry potter#harry potter x reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theo nott imagine#theodore nott#theodore nott x y/n#theo nott#theodore nott x you
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
LOVER



Joaquin Torres x Stark!reader
"YOU KNOW WHAT,SAM?I CHANGED MY MIND" JOAQUIN STOPPED IN FRONT OF THE TOWER.
"what do you mean you changed your mind?I got you a date with the girl you wouldn't shut up about for months now" Sam stopped to look at him "you can't do this man, she was so excited!"
"she was?" Joaquin asked, his voice filled with hope
"she was, when I told her about you she really seemed interested, and if you bolt right now, Stark gonna beat my ass and then yours when he finds you, and you don't want that,right?"
"I guess no" he shaked his head "alright, i'm just gonna give her this flowers, say she looks pretty and have a fun night with her" Joaquin said, mainly to reassure himself "Yeah, I can do it"
"yes,you can, now get inside pretty boy because I don't want (y/n) to think I pranked her again"
"wait,again?" Joaquin asked as he followed Sam inside the huge tower.
As they arrived at the level where the living room was, he immadetly saw (y/n), and Joaquin felt like he is gonna faint right there, he saw and was with some beautiful woman in his life but, you?hell, he thought he saw a freaking goddess, how the dress that you picked hugged all your curves in all the right places,yeah, he wasn't sure he can keep his hands to himself.I mean, come on, everyone thought (y/n) Stark is gorgeous, and he sure as hell didn't felt ashamed anymore for begging Sam an entire month to set this up.
"Hi, you're Joaquin, right?" you stepped closer to the boy with a kind smile "Sam told me a lot about you"
"only good things I hope" he glanced at Sam for a minute
"just good things" you answered giggling and he had to stop himself from the huge grin that just wanted to appear on his face "really, don't worry, I trust Sam, I know he wouldn't set me up with a bad guy"
"Yeah,yeah, cause i'm not bad, i'm a great great guy" he nodded his head "uhm...you look beautiful by the way, and I got you tulips"
"it's my favorite, thank you" you said as you took the bouquet from him "how did you know?"
"I know a lot of-" then he felt a sharp pain in his side, which was because of Sam elbowing him there "I mean, I asked Sam,yeah, I asked him"
"how about you two get going?the restaurant is not gonna wait for you two all night" Sam interrupted
"Yeah, let's go" Joaquin said and glanced at you "ladies first"
After a thirty minute drive you two arrived at the restaurant, it wasn't that popular nor fancy, which meant the paparazzi wouldn't take pictures of you and your dad, who is on a vacation, won't find out about your date through the internet.
After the waiter led you two to your table, and even got your orders there were a few moment of very very awkward silence, which he decided to break "Sam said that you're in university, what are you studying?"
"Stem" you answered smiling "which is not as cool as your job"
"what?no, don't say that" he shaked his head "I would die in your place, you're much more cooler than me"
"because i'm Tony Stark's daughter?"
"no, because you're you" he answered "you're smart,pretty,you always stand up for what is right,did I mentioned that you're smart? because I think you're incredibly smart" at his words a faint blush appeared on your face accompanied with a giggle
"you barely know me"
"Yeah,well I'm serious about what I said still, besides, I like you"
"you know, I think I like you too, maybe it's weird because we just met, but I feel like i've known you for twenty years" you looked straight into his eyes
"which means I can take you out again?"
"Yeah, you can take me out again" you nodded "but we will go to my place and I cook for us then"
"sounds like a plan" Joaquin winked at you.
#joaquin torres#joaquin torres x reader#joaquin torres x you#joaquin torres fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#marvel x reader#marvel x you#𝝑𝑒 love letters from sophie
131 notes
·
View notes
Text
I ADORE this incredible take on post-Shibuya!Nanami, and its focus on the process of healing. It is so heartwarming to see the people in Nanami’s life mobilize in their own way to support him: Gojo with the facility, Ino with his daily check-ins, Yuuji with his daily positive affirmations, which Nanami actually practices! So incredibly sweet. I love the elevated level of emotional intelligence employed by the caregiver. It manifests from the very first interaction with Nanami and continues throughout the story: in the detection and response to his apprehension, in the respect of his boundaries, in honing into Nanami’s love for food and cooking, and in how they expertly use this to have him slowly open up. This really goes to show how good caregiving requires a constant straddling of the line between dualities; how you have to be sympathetic yet somewhat detached, tempered yet firm. To me, this makes this character as interesting as Nanami’s, and I look forward to witnessing their journey throughout this story. You couldn’t take me anywhere, I fear, because when they surveyed Nanami’s kitchen arsenal, I was really scratching my head wondering where the hell the air fryer was (LMFAO *dodges tomatoes*). In all seriousness, I think this line stuck the most:
Nanami knows he can’t do it alone. But to be a burden is the last thing he wants to ever become.
Because ultimately, it does boil down to this flaw of Nanami’s character; man does not know when to stop. Even after surviving the events at Shibuya, even after sustaining these severe burns, he’s still worried about alleviating burdens, even if doing so at his own expense. This internal, psychological part of healing might be even more challenging than any physical recovery, so it is so touching to witness Nanami take the small but meaningful steps in the right direction, even through the simple act of asking for and accepting help to open a jar.
Thank you for writing and sharing this, Lu! This is truly an amazing piece! 🩵
Lifetime
post shibuya!nanami x caregiver!reader
A series dedicated to healing and letting yourself have a second chance in this lifetime.
Inspired by this song that brings me to tears every single time.
content warning: shibuya arc, mentions of death, mental health awareness, angst(eventual comfort), burn victim so expect some detailed imagery.
wc: 4.9k
an: thank you for reading. I love you lots.
I.
Time seemed to trickle as Nanami waited for his physical therapist to arrive.
First at home session since being discharged.
4 days a week, 30 minutes a day.
“Individualized exercise program including rigorous activities as you progress to help you regain your independence.. Sure.” Nanami read from the pamphlet out loud and sighed as he looked over the stack of literature he left the rehab facility with.
He was thankful that he was deemed fit enough to continue his healing at home after 11 weeks in the best facility Gojo could find. While it accommodated every possible concern one could have, he was certain he wouldn’t feel confident in being self sufficient until he was able to put all he had learned into practice at home.
So there he was, sifting through paperwork and sipping his coffee as he awaited his new physical therapist and as Ino finished cleaning his kitchen.
“I think thats it! Lunch is in the black container on the top shelf in the fridge and I’ve prepped dinner for when Gojo comes to cook. Anything else before I’m off?” Takuma grabbed his keys, the jangle bringing Kento out of his reading trance as he looked up.
“Yes, that should be fine. I appreciate you coming over every morning Takuma. But it’s not necessary.”
Takuma scoffed, almost offended at the idea. “Nonsense. Its just a little breakfast and lunch. Its on my way to the school anyway. Consider it a small help.”
He could protest but Takuma would simply find another way to make himself useful. Whether it be taking him to his appointments or coming to slather his injuries: he was going to find a way to be of help.
As he adjusted his cast as best he could, a text popped up from an unsaved number.
>Hello, Mr. Nanami! Currently heading to you. ETA is ten minutes.
Signed with your name, Nanami simply reads the text and reacted to the message with thumbs up.
“Thank you, Takuma. Truly. But I think thats everything. My physical therapist is on their way so I’ll just hang out til then.”
“Alrighty! I’ll be working mostly on campus so just shoot me a text if you need me. Take it easy, Nanami.” with that, Ino grabbed his jacket and proceeded out the front door.
Nanami exhaled and got up to sit at the window. The mid morning sun was gentle but insistent, that soft golden hue brightening everything it touched.
It wasn’t harsh, just warm enough to remind Nanami of the outside world, a quiet promise that time was still moving. The warmth on his right side almost felt foreign as the dust mites danced lazily in the light. He closed his eyes, taking in the fragile sense of something stirring inside of him— reposeful comfort in the way the sun didn’t have a sudden, overwhelming wave of joy but a soft declaration that he was still here.
Nanami hadn’t had many moments to really think about just how life changing the incident had been. Half of his body littered in 3rd degree burns, a third of that, 4th degree. Loss of hair on one side, an eye patch over his eye and a lack of feeling down his left arm.
He’d looked at himself in the mirror exactly once since the incident and didn’t do it again until he acquired his face prosthetic recently.
It was bulky and itchy, but it alleviated the deformities and more importantly, kept him from being too hard on his own appearance.
The moment felt necessary. Reminding him that the sun remained a constant while other things changed.
“I’ll need to see if I can sit outdoors for a few minutes a day. Would be good for me.” he noted outwardly before a light tapping at the front door had him shuffling towards the foyer.
One moment, please.” he paused a few paces before he reached the door to look down, remembering his shirt had a hole near the hem of it. He didn’t have time to change but only hoped the therapist wouldn’t see him as some undetermined slob with no real concern on how he looked.
He took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Mr. Nanami?”
“That would be me.”
“Perfect! Hello! I was sent by the health and wellness agency as part of your transitioning to home health care. We have an appointment. May I come in?”
No scrubs, no accessories to signify you were a medical professional. Just a badge clip holding your ID with “HHA” boldly sitting under your name.
“Sure. Come on in.” He led you into the house, slowly walking into the living room and nodding towards the couch as you stood next to him.
You grin and sat on the far end of the couch, near the window, “Thank you.” you sat your tote littered in small pins on the coffee table and pulled out a somewhat thick file.
“Would you like anything to drink? Water, coffee?”
Shaking your head, you tapped the top of your bag. “No thank you. I have my tumbler. But I appreciate it!”
Nanami slightly bowed his head and sat in the solo chair next to the couch. “Alright so, how do we start this? I was told I’d see you four days a week with one more day possibly if I need to.”
You pursed your lips, looking down at your paperwork before looking back up to meet his neutral gaze.
“I believe that’s your physical therapist that you will be seeing four days out of the week.”
“Then pardon me for being so… impolite. But who are you exactly?”
The laugh that left your lips was a soft one but enough for Kento to lift his lips into a slight smile.
“I realize your discharge team didn’t give you names, faces, or titles. My apologies.”
“It happens.”
You continued. “I’m your Home Health Care Provider. While you were still in recovery, you met with your primary care provider and you spoke of your in home care, correct?”
Nanami nodded. “Yes.”
“Going over the team you’d have for your in housee rehabilitation, you were assigned a home health aide 5 days a week.”
His brow furrowed. “So you are that, I assume?”
“Yes. I will also be the one looking over the full team that provides you with your in-home care.”
“This feels very unnecessary.” The tone in his response was sharp. “I have people who come to help me with my daily needs. Having an entire team sounds like an exhausting back and forth to have coming to my house. A waste of resources.”
Your demeanor remained soft and understanding as you listened to his concerns. “Mr. Nanami. I understand that it sounds overwhelming. If I had to be in the predicament of needing a care team after an incident, I too would be a bit apprehensive.”
“But you aren’t. I am.”
The immediate smile that grew on your face wasn’t one that came from kindness. It was your defense, albeit an understandable one. “You are correct. I’m not. But I implore to at least hear me out on why its important to have us.”
A rush of emotions filled Kento’s chest. He wanted to pull his hair out from sheer frustration. But he remained calm.
His discomfort was obvious to you and you wanted to remedy the ache somehow.
“I want you to have an idea of what this could look like as you approach the first steps of gaining a sense of normalcy. Would you be willing to let me give you an example of what a week may look like for you? And if you don’t like it, we can adjust to a schedule that fits better for you.”
“Let’s hear it, then.”
“Splendid.” You reached into your file and pulled out a thoroughly detailed schedule and turned it for Nanami to look along with you.
“So, this schedule is based loosely on the day to day you had while in the rehab facility. No matter who, anything involving someone from your team wouldn’t be arriving until 10am. This is unless you decide to utilize me. Then I would be here at 7 every morning to aide you with your morning routine.”
“What if I don’t want extensive help?”
“I would respect the boundary.”
Nanami took a closer look at the schedule, seeing the words ‘kitchen prep healing exercise’ highlighted for every Tuesday and Thursday. “What does this entail? Kitchen prep healing.”
“Your passions shouldn’t suffer because of changes. So I created a regimen that would help us get in the kitchen and get busy while making sure we help maintain your range of motion and fine motor skills.”
Nanami looked up at you for a moment, trying to assess just how serious you were about changing what he was uncomfortable with.
“So if I only need you for meal prep and assisting with chores around my house.”
“Then I will only help you with meal prep and assisting with your chores around the house.”
He handed the schedule back to you. “And if it isn’t something that I’ve mentioned?”
Trying to test you. Cute. “If you mention to me that would like me to assist you in going to the grocery store, fixing your bed, helping you get ready for your appointments, then I will. Because my goal is having you confident in yourself and your abilities.”
That nagging feeling of what if filled his chest and mind. Nanami knows he can’t do it alone. But to be a burden is the last thing he wants to ever become.
“I don’t want to become too dependent on you and your teams’ services.” He sat up as best he could, stretching out his legs and wincing at the unexpected intensity of his blood flowing through his left leg.”
Not wanting to lose the momentum, you sat on the edge of the couch alert of and aware of the pain he showed. “Your independence will not falter. We are merely an extension. We are the claw arm that’s in your reach if the jar of pickles are too high up, if you will.”
Nanami tried to stop the half smile on his face but faltered. “I understand.”
“Do you have any questions for me?” You smiled politely.
“A few,” Nanami cleared his throat. “When it comes to changing my dressings..”
“I will be the only one who sees them completely outside of your primary physician.” You answered, as if you were waiting for that specific question.
“Second question: can you properly fold a fitted sheet?”
You laughed, nodding. “The trick is in how you hold the corners. Line up the creases and you’ll always have a perfect fold.”
Nanami nodded. “Interesting.” The intense blood flow in his legs ceased and his body noticeably relaxed. He sat forward. “Final question, if you were to start tomorrow, could we have your start time for 8am? I like having the first hour of the day to myself.”
“If you want me here at 8 am, I will be at the door by 7:55 to knock at 7:59.”
The moment of silence was filled with hope as you realized you got to him. You let him see genuine concern and thats all he wanted. But this was only the beginning. And you were willing to be his guide to a sense of independence all the way through.
___________________________________________
The silence of the early morning was heavier than usual— a quit hum of of the refrigerator reached his room as he slept with his bedroom door open now, a new practice he’s since learned is a response to his trauma.
He sat on the side of his bed, staring down at his slippers that warmly held his feet as the barely visible morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and unrelenting.
“I embrace healing.” He spoke out loud, his voice still low, sleep riddened, as he slowly rose from the bed and grabbed his cane.
“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is still new to you, Kento. Its okay to not know what to do.”
Mornings were more of a drag than he would like for them to be.
His body was more stiff. More rigid. He needed 30 minutes minimum to sit on the side of the bed and stretch just to muster up enough internal energy to get up and grab his cane.
He sounded off, flipping the bathroom light on and adjusting the sink to run warm water. “Today will be a great day.” He washed his hands, meticulously washing between his fingers and flicking the excess off his fingers before he dried them, reaching for a clean towel and letting it soak under the faucet.
“You will be more than okay.” this time, he spoke as if someone would overhear him talking to his self.
Nanami shook his head, lowly chuckling at what he found himself doing.
Yuji began to send him various videos that initiated ‘positive self talk’ and ‘daily affirmations for healing the body.’ Yuji hoped to try and help expedite a process that Megumi told him more than fives times, would take awhile.
Slowly pulled away the dressing on his cheek, Nanami watched small bits of dead tissue peel away from his healing skin. He threw it in the trash hamper, then pumped a small dot of antimicrobial soap on the wet towel he’d soaked and gently began to wash his face.
He looked closely, inspecting every patch he wiped over to take notice of any changes in how his skin looked. He tried very, very hard to not look into his own eyes.
Rinsing and patting to dry, he washed his hands again then reached for the jar of salve, precisely swiping a thin layer over his left cheek and forehead before he placed his transparent face mask on.
Finishing up his morning bathroom routine went without a rush. Going to throw on yet another loose fitting t-shirt and casual pants before sliding his slippers back on.
Slow and steady. Nice and easy.
“I am going to have a great day today.” the rubber end of his walker softly thudded against the wooden floors as he made his was down the hall. “It is a new day. New chances.”
He wasn’t going to confirm or deny if these affirming exercises were doing anything. But he’d admit that saying them aloud was probably the silliest he’d felt ever doing anything.
The living room held a welcoming warmth as he drew the blinds open that faced the street.
The third floor apartment view was always the one thing that made the asking price of his condo worth it to him.
The patchwork of traditional rooftops and modern buildings met the edge of the cities outskirts. Bare branches stood against the pale early morning winter sky, hints of early plum blossoms added a hint of a spring that would soon come and wipe away the muted landscape.
Kento sat on the window seal, taking in the low mountains in the distance. That thin veil of mist hiding the peaks that were still dusted in snow. With a deep inhale, he looked down at the street to see a bundled up pedestrian loading his car with boxes as another, that looked only slightly familiar, was exiting their car in a slow jog to the front steps of his building.
He glanced over at the clock on the wall.
7:55 am.
“Timely.”
slowly, he went to open the rest of the blinds around the living room, a slow tango that made him a feel like he still had just enough control, timing the last curtain opening perfectly as your soft knock filled the foyer yet again.
He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the frame, before opening the door and stepping aside in a half step to let you in. His expression was neutral — not unkind, but carefully composed, as if he were still deciding how much space to give you in his life.
“Good morning,” you spoke softly, offering a polite smile.
“Morning,” Nanami replied, his voice low and steady. “I was about to make myself a simple breakfast. Coffee too.”
It wasn’t quite an invitation, but it wasn’t a dismissal either. It was just a statement — a line drawn firmly down the middle.
You nodded. “That sounds good.”
You sat your bag down on the ottoman against the wall and followed his lead. The condo was quiet — too quiet, the kind that felt deliberate. Like he'd stripped the space of anything deemed unnecessary. A few trinkets here and there, clean lines, muted colors.. But the kitchen felt like the homeliest part of the space.
Black stainless steel appliances, cold press juicer and blender sitting on the counter. A top of the line built-in double electric convection wall oven, a display of every herb and spice on a dark mahogany shelf sitting high on the wall.
“You have a very beautiful kitchen.” Your eyes grazed over the quartz cabinets, taking in the light blue finishes until you landed on what you knew to be as the best stand mixer that only experts chefs and bakers would have.
“You have a Bosch… Its even more beautiful in person.” You inspected it as if it were a lost artifact seeing the light for the first time in 500 years.
Nanami cocked his head for a moment. “Are you that taken by a stand mixer?”
“Mr. Nanami, I’d have to work 3 weeks nonstop to not only get the mixer but to financially recover from it.”
Your half suppressed laugh had Kento smiling. “Understandable. It is a big purchase. I use to bake fresh bread for my weekly use.”
“You’ll have to give me a demonstration one day! Would love to see the Bosch in action.”
Nanami raised his brows. “You think I can get back to that one day?”
The small flick of something resembling hope flecked in the richest parts of his brown eyes.
“We can get you back to that. I’m sure of it.”
He nodded, a silent acceptance of an unspoken challenge. He opened the refrigerator, bearing his weight on the cane as he used his dominant hand to grab the butter, holding it out.
“Do you mind taking things as I pass them to you?”
You reached out, taking the butter and placing it on the counter. “Don’t mind at all.”
A pack of bacon, a jar of jam and an orange followed after and you awaited his next instruction.
“I’m going need your help with peeling orange. I believe I can manage the rest.”
With quiet acknowledgment, you grabbed the orange and began to peel as he placed 2 pieces of bacon in the skillet.
It took less than 10 minutes and Nanami moved to the dining table, a slice of toast placed next to his bacon on a plate and setting out a small dish of fruit with the addition of an apple now. You brought out 2 mugs of coffee, placing his in front of him and sitting across from him with yours.
A butter knife rested awkwardly beside the jar of jam he chose. It was clear he had intended to do more, but something had stopped him.
You didn’t move or say anything, you sipped your coffee and watched as he reached for the jar. His right hand gripped the jar while his left hovered over the lid. His fingers trembled — just slightly — but enough that the lid refused to budge.
You didn’t move at first. You’d quickly learned that Nanami wasn’t the type to appreciate overstepping, even if it came from a place of concern. So you waited, giving him the space to either push through the task or acknowledge the struggle.
After a long moment, his jaw tightened. The jar didn’t budge.
You opened your mouth — not to offer help, but simply to ask if he wanted you to hold the base of the jar steady when his voice cut through the silence.
“Can you…” He paused, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. “Can you open this for me?”
It wasn’t a whisper, nor was it loud. Just a calm, measured request, but you could hear the effort behind it — the weight of a man who wasn’t used to asking for assistance.
You stood and went to his side of the table and gently placed your hand on the lid. “Turn when you’re ready.”
His hand dropped away, switching his left hand out for the right gripping the glass part and his left fingers curling into a loose fist at his side. The lid gave way with a soft pop, and you set it down in front of him without a word.
He didn’t thank you, but there was a small nod — barely noticeable, but it was there.
“Would you like me to slice the apple for you?” you asked, careful not to overstep.
Nanami shook his head. “No. I can manage.”
You sat back down, sipping your coffee as he asked you more questions about your fascination with his Bosch.
_______________________________________
The morning moved quickly. Breakfast cleanup was a breeze as Nanami continued his light reading and non rigorous solo exercises.
During breakfast, you’d been given what you called the key to the cupboard by Nanami. He uttered, with few words, that he didn’t want to prevent you from doing your job. While he limited what that might be, he was quick to say how appreciative he’d be if his bed could be made up, his laundry started and lunch done. He’d have a friend come by to do the rest.
You happily complied and began working on laundry the moment he sat down post breakfast. And by noon, his physical therapist had arrived to continue his exercise routine and mobility work.
Despite the pain he would occasionally feel from the intense stretches he felt near his ankles, this was Nanami’s favorite part of his rehabilitation. Feeling the tightness dissipate as he stretched his neck and chest together. He closed his eyes, allowing the PT to guide his body on top of the exercise ball.
“Now a slow exhale as you reach your arms over your head. Nice and easy.”
The short man moved the ball under Nanami and he grunted.
“Sorry Mr. Nanami, too much?”
Nanami wheezed a chuckle out, “Not enough. Can we do this one more often?”
The therapist exhaled and smiled. “We can. Your body is reacting as it needs to and it seems to be the best exercise to get a reaction out of you. Does it feel like your body is loosening up?”
He nodded, slowly sitting up with assistance. “Definitely. My skin feels less taut at my hips and chest when I open up my arms like that. It feels.. good.”
“That’s what I like to hear. We’re going to finish off with some hands exercises then your aide will be tagged back in to finish the day off with you.”
His session proceeded and came to an end before he knew it. He walked with a bit more confidence as he escorted his therapist to the door and went to find you in the kitchen finishing lunch.
Nanami watched you sliced the cucumber. He nodded at the precision of the knife movements, impressed with how perfect each little sliced green disc was as you added it to the salad bowl. He waited to speak once you sat the knife down.
“You have some really great knife skills.”
You looked up and smiled, wiping your hand on the dish towel nearby. “4 years of cooking for a group of broke college students as a college student. 2 of those years were spent dating a sous chef who taught me some of what I know.”
“I’m sure this sous chef would be happy to know you use these techniques so well.”
“We could only hope,” Expertly, you avoided giving that a full response that would push the topic of your ex. “Where did you learn to cook, Mr. Nanami? I’m sure you are amazing with a Bosch in your kitchen.”
Nanami walked behind you, reaching for two bowls out of the cabinets and placed them next to you. “My grandfather wanted me to be self sufficient once I moved out on my own.” He slowly opened the silverware drawer, pulling out a pair of forks and knives. “And cooking in itself is its own therapy for me.”
You finished placing the grilled chicken in the salad bowl and handed over the tongs to Nanami. “How does cooking make you feel?”
He looked down at the tongs, his heart fluttering with an anxiety he couldn’t place. His eyes found you. “Do you think I can?”
“I’m right here,” you slid one of the eating bowls directly next to him and smiled. “What does cooking do for you?”
Nanami put his eyes back onto the salad and took a deep breath. He grabbed the tongs, gripping them, feeling the cold stainless steel rest in the part of his palm that still had feeling. “Cooking requires me to pay attention. Smell, sounds, how my food is looking.”
He widened the tongs, lowering them into the salad and tossing it lightly, as if he’d harm the lettuce if he placed any pressure.
“What do you usually cook with?” You noticed his hesitance in squeezing the tong tips together, his grip faltering as he exhaled from frustration. “I’m going to hover my hand below yours. Claw extension. Only if you need it.”
Nanami closed his eyes, slowly breathing out as he tried to not lose his momentum. “Garlic. Fresh minced garlic.” He tried again, slowly working his hands closed until he had salad gripped between the flat tips. He carefully moved it over to the dish, hand shaking but making it with no spillage. “I prefer to mince it and store it in water. Taste great every time.”
You smiled as he looked at you for a hint of validation and gave a nod of acknowledgment.
He moved the tongs back to the serving bowl with a glimmer of determination in the way he rolled his shoulders back. He grabbed more and placed it into the bowl, releasing a with a bit of force before sitting the tongs down. “I think I want a bit more tomato.”
Fork in hand, trying to pin down a slice of tomato so he could cut it. His right hand hovered awkwardly, meant to steady the cutting board, but his left — the one gripping the fork — trembled just enough to betray him.
The fork slipped.
The tomato skidded to the side, smearing juice across the surface. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
You didn’t speak either. You knew better than to rush in with help he hadn’t asked for yet.
He reset the slice, pressing the fork down again. His grip was too tight — his knuckles pale from the strain — but the tremor in his fingers wouldn’t let up. The fork scraped against the board, missing the tomato entirely this time.
A sharp pain ran through his forefinger and he dropped the fork, cursing under his breath as he massaged his purlicue.
His gaze stayed locked on the tomato, his shoulders tense.
“You did good. You and the tongs are quite the dynamic duo.”
Nanami felt a heated tear well in his eye before he sucked it back in. “This. Its all so hard sometimes. A fork? I can’t hold a damn fork and its been months.”
He needed to let the frustrations out. It was going to be the only way he could get over those hurdles to feeling whole again.
You stood in silence for a moment, giving him space to process and feel. “Don’t give yourself a timeline but do give yourself grace.”
“Is this all worth it?” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself until he took a few steps back and leaned against the counter looking at you. “Will I be the same person I was before all this? Because I feel like even when I’m giving 200%, I’m failing with no progress.”
“This feels like it’s never going to get better,” Nanami said, his voice low — almost too calm, but there was an edge to it. A rare crack in the carefully composed man standing next to you.
The words hung between you both, heavier than the silence.
You gave him a moment before you spoke. “It’s frustrating,” you said softly. “I know.”
Nanami’s jaw shifted, his lips pressing into a firm line. He didn’t respond right away, as if letting the admission sit out in the open was already more than he was prepared for.
His hand flexed at his side — open, then closed — before, at last, he exhaled through his nose. “Can you help me?”
The question was quiet, but it felt like a victory in its own right.
You nodded, letting him take a few steps forward before stepping in slowly so he had the chance to pull back if he wanted. When he didn’t, you picked up the fork, steadying the tomato with your other hand. The prongs sank into the skin with a soft pop — a simple act, but weighted with everything unspoken.
Nanami’s hand hovered near yours for a moment, then dropped back to his side.
He didn’t thank you, but the small, almost imperceptible nod he gave was enough.
You didn’t push for more words. Instead, you handed him the knife, stepping back just far enough to let him reclaim some of the space —he had let you stand just a little closer, and it was a sign that he was willing to let you in to help.
#jujutsu kaisen#nanami kento#jjk#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#kento x reader#jjk kento#jujutsu kaisen nanami#shibuya arc#jjk fanfic
407 notes
·
View notes
Text
ATTENTION
formula one x male!rookie driver!reader
request: I was wondering if we could get a cute fic where a retired driver catches feelings for a new driver on the grid? Like, the retired driver is totally smitten and keeps trying to get the new driver’s attention in the cutest ways, but the new driver is kinda oblivious at first. Bonus points for some playful banter and the retired driver getting teased by his old grid friends about his obvious crush. Preferably with retired drivers like sb5, nr6, jb22, kr7, and ms5. Thanks so much, you’re the best <3
summary: it's your first year in formula one, and you've caught the eye of a world champion.
warnings: age gaps (duh), minor negative self-image (reader), one joke about reader being a "boy-toy (kimi), minor suggestive content (seb)
contains: jenson button, kimi raikkonen, + sebastian vettel
word count: 1,586 (total — 485/512/589 separately)
jenson button:
you’re way too old for him, jenson scolded himself.
you were just joining the grid for the new season. you weren’t as fresh-faced as some of the other rookies (like kimi antonelli, for example), but you were still young. way younger than jenson would ever think to go for. he couldn’t explain what about you it was that caught his eye. all he could explain was that you were an attractive guy and he just admired your driving. right?
wrong.
as the season kicked into first gear, jenson found himself interviewing you more and more. basic (well, as basic as sky got) interviews turned into banter and jenson could have even sworn that you were flirting with him on occasion. everyone noticed the way jenson lit up whenever you joined him for an interview, or how he could have that googly-eyed, smitten, puppy love-look in his eyes for you even when he was standing right next to his sworn enemy. yet, you didn’t seem to notice. you just talked to him like normal. smiled at him like normal. and jenson was convinced he’d be doomed to a life of pining.
from your perspective, you were very reticent to believe that a driver of jenson’s calibre had taken such a keen interest in you. you knew you were a good driver. you didn’t make it to formula one for no reason, after all. you weren’t surprised people would recognise that—though, that didn’t stop the proud feeling in your chest whenever someone complimented your driving. what you were surprised about, though, was that people seemed to think jenson liked you for something other than your driving capabilities. he was basically twice your age, a world champion, and a commentator. you just couldn’t see what was so appealing about yourself. it didn’t seem plausible.
the season continued. you were having a rather impeccable rookie year, if you did say so yourself. not that you needed to. everyone else said it for you. you got closer with jenson. the hero worship faded the more you got to know him, replaced by genuine admiration. and maybe a little bit of attraction—he wasn’t your gay awakening for nothing—but he didn’t need to know that.
years later, when you told the story, jenson piped up cheekily to say “i think i did, actually!”
the closer you got, the more smitten jenson became, and the more the other older drivers teased him for it. then one very special grill the grid episode came out. one where you were asked about your very first celebrity crush. several drivers said ‘sally’ from cars. a few others said supermodels, or disney channel actors. you, though … the interviewer had barely finished the question before you blurted out, “jenson button”.
the clip went viral. of course it did. but it also finally gave jenson the courage to ask you out, and neither of you had looked back since.
kimi raikkonen:
kimi was known for being stoic. he’s not called the iceman for no reason. before this year, he would’ve said there were only two things in formula one that could him to smile: seb, and alcohol.
then he met you.
he wasn’t sure how it happened, but before he knew it, he was actually looking forward to visiting the paddock. he didn’t even hate the media as much as he thought he would. especially if you’d stop by his interview to say hello—you couldn’t help it, he was one your favourite drivers ever—kimi would even find himself enjoying it. he had to filter his own name on social media with how many people started commenting about his rosy cheeks whenever you were around.
unfortunately, he wasn’t able to filter his friends’ mouths. a night out when a few of them were all at the same race quickly turned to kimi’s puppy crush on you. plenty of teasing about kimi wanting a “boy-toy” echoed from their booth. the more time he spent in the paddock, the more he fell for you, the more he did to get your attention. he’d even put up with a lot more media attention than he wanted to. starry-eyed whenever you’re in sight, kimi had almost given up hope that you’d ever even notice his feelings, let alone return them.
you really had no idea that when you joined formula one, you’d catch the eye of kimi raikkonen of all people. you’d grown up watching kimi race and how he behaved with the media. of course you knew that the way kimi acted with you was different. you just assumed that he was different with everyone off camera. but a few conversations with your fellow rookies quickly proved that assumption incorrect. so you started asking around. none of the other younger drivers knew kimi all that well, which then pushed you into something a bit more daunting—asking the older drivers. lewis hamilton and fernando alonso. both perfectly nice guys, but both multiple world champions. asking them if kimi raikkonen was being weirdly nice to you felt silly and downright awkward.
lucky for you, you’d already asked charles and lance, who were … not the best at keeping secrets.
one race later you had two championship-winning drivers telling you that, yeah, the iceman had an embarrassingly big crush on you. not exactly news you expected on a race weekend. the race went by in a blur of overtakes and instructions. it wasn’t your best performance, but it wasn’t bad either. for hours after you went to bed that night you were tossing and turning.
you had no idea how you got to where you were. standing in front of kimi’s hotel room door in sweatpants and a t-shirt you didn’t remember packing, you were half-sure you’d regret it in the morning. but then he opened the door. you had only partly explained what lewis and fernando had told you before kimi lurched forward to kiss you.
it was certainly safe to say you didn’t regret going to see him.
sebastian vettel:
seb may have been retired, but he still kept up with formula one. and a season with no less than seven rookies … that was something he needed to see.
he never intended to fall for you. you were way too young for him! and you were just starting in formula one. sebastian didn’t want to distract you from that. you deserved a good start to what he (and everyone else) was sure would be a very long career in the pinnacle of motorsport. he just couldn’t help himself from trying to get your attention, no matter how much jenson, kimi, mark, lewis, fernando, and even charles teased him for it. he had it on good authority—also known as your teammate in formula two who was all too eager to have someone to complain about your late night escapades to—that you were at the very least bisexual, so he started subtly trying to shoot his shot.
except you were far too oblivious. even though seb wasn’t being nearly as subtle as he thought he was, you didn’t even consider that he would be flirting with you. he was a four-time world champion! you were a rookie! in your mind, there was no version of reality where he’d actually be into you. despite what the other drivers seemed to think. you were friendly with sebastian, and even occasionally flirty, but to you it was just harmlessly flirting with your celebrity/childhood crush. sebastian didn’t need to know that some of his podiums in the early 2010s made you realise certain things about yourself …
as the season progressed, so did seb’s desperation. his flirting attempts escalated from subtle and sweet compliments to just about as intense as they were when he was in his red bull and ferrari days. he’d lost count of how many times one of the older drivers had sent him tweets or memes about him reviving his “feral twink era”. they weren’t exactly wrong, either—with the way seb acted around you, it would’ve been a fair assumption that he had returned to his early 2010s chaotic gay tactics. he was making comments about how you looked when you were drowned in champagne after your first podium, making suggestive and borderline explicit jokes with you, batting his eyelashes at you … everything.
it all culminated in the final race of the season. after twenty-three races, the vibe in the paddock very much reminded you of the last day of school. everyone was tired and ready for a holiday. jetlag got to everyone eventually, no matter how used to traveling they were. and, apparently, the last thing on the agenda was a game of telephone between the drivers to tell you that sebastian had actually been flirting with you all season. by the time the rumour got to you, it was a little distorted, but the core of the message was still clear enough: you needed to talk to seb.
he was torn between embarrassment and just continuing with his over-the-top attempts to get your attention. he’d forgotten how fun it was to be a little feral every now and then. eventually, though, seb decided that he didn’t want to risk pushing you away. he explained his feelings with a lot of clarifiers that he didn’t want to pressure you at all. he rambled so much that you just gave in and kissed him to stop him. it wasn’t exactly the relationship you expected to have with one of your favourite drivers, but … well, you weren’t complaining.
©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!
author's note: enjoy early-mid twenties!2025 rookie!reader, because i do <3 (nico not included because i don’t really think i’d write him well)
comments + reblogs appreciated!
taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans
#formula 1 x male reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x male reader#f1 x reader#formula one x male reader#formula one x reader#jenson button x male reader#jenson button x reader#kimi raikkonen x male reader#kimi raikkonen x reader#sebastian vettel x male reader#sebastian vettel x reader#driver!reader
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
AGAIN . . ? ⋆.˚




summary: after a night out, you wake up in a bed you know all too well.. again.
warnings: single mention of vomiting (she’s hungover let a girl live smh), reference to previous sexual activities, ending leads to sex, but no details are given - lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: hi lovelies!! this is my obx fic writer debut, so pretty please go easy on me :,) my requests are open 24/7 and i’m really excited to be in this amazin community! enjoy this lil thing xx
wc: 922

you groan, your head feeling like it’s being, repeatedly, banged against a wall, lids heavy with sleep and an impending hangover. the morning sunlight shining in through the covers was blinding, another tired sound slipping past your lips.
you think nothing of it when you notice that the messy sheets surrounding you are different from yours - that’s ‘cause you’d changed them not too long ago.
but when the sound of movement behind you breaks your thoughts, you sigh in.. disappointment? anger? anyway; the feeling was targeted towards yourself.
your phone vibrates next to the pillow your head was resting on, an alarm chiming in the warm room. you turn it off, taking it in your hands. a text catches your eye.
ah, fuck.
sar 🤍
pls don’t telk me that u lrft wit my brotger again
Delivered: 01:54 AM
well.. that confirms your suspicions.
you and rafe had an.. interesting relationship, to put it mildly. glances around tannyhill soon became hook-ups in his bedroom and truck after parties. sneaking around the cameron household, stolen kisses and sweat beaded bodies slowly becoming a norm.
but, damn it, was he fucking imposs—
“fuck you doin’ up so early?” rafe’s voice invades your hearing, making you wonder if killing yourself would be a good option right about now.
“how much did i have t’drink?” you grumble as you put down your phone and press your cheek against the cool pillow, your face slightly squished.
“why?” he asks, his tone lacking any sign of patience. shocking.
“‘cause i’m here. again,” a dry scoff leaves your raw throat (probably from the vomiting. great fuckin’ job!).
“..a decent amount,” he answers, chuckling with no emotion behind the small laugh “way too early for this shit, baby,” the nickname spills from his lips before he could even think about it - a habit, almost.
“told y’not to call me that, rafe,” you mumble, groaning hoarsely when you sit up and stand up from the plush bed. you catch a glimpse of yourself in his mirror, brows furrowing as you gaze into the glass.
yesterday’s clothes? gone.
panties? still there.
what was new, though, was the black tee framing your body. the fabric was soft and smelled of.. him. fuck, his perfume was intoxicating. what did he use again? eh, whatever - all you knew was that it smelled divine. and expensive.
“did we..?” you ask carefully, turning to face him from your place on the floor. he simply shakes his head, huffing.
“nah. drunk outta your mind.”
you nod in acknowledgment, biting the inside of your cheek in thought.
“did you.. want to?” another question from you fills the room. he shrugs, sitting up. the white covers fall from his bare upper half, crumpling in his lap.
“no shit,” he scoffs, scratching his nose before he continues, “didn’t wanna.. y’know— take advantage of you. basic human decency and stuff. would’a been wrong.”
he was rambling. a bit, at least. you’d never seen him like this and.. to be completely honest? it was kinda cute. you nod again, the corners of your mouth tilting up a bit. you try to fight the smile starting to break through, but god, was it difficult.
“right, yeah. uh.. thanks,” you mutter and chuckle quietly. to your complete surprise, his lips turn up an inch, a hint of a smile playing on them. he stands up and the duvet falls behind him, a pair of boxers being the only thing on his toned form. he steps closer to you, towering. bastard.
“sarah texted?” he asks, tilting his head. fuck him and his fucking teasing, and his fucking smile, and his—
“mhm. jumble of letters, really, but yeah. why?” you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. you don’t miss the way rafe’s baby blues flicker down to the movement, before meeting your gaze again.
“think we have some time ‘fore she scolds us again?” his voice was just barely above a whisper, a small smirk grazing the corner of his mouth.
“maybe,” you reply, shrugging.
before you could fully finish saying the word, his lips were crashing into yours, big hands cradling your face. his ring was cold against your heated skin. an audible hitch of your breath travels into his mouth as you kiss him back, your own hands brushing up his muscular arms. his biceps flex underneath your touch, the feeling sending a jolt up your spine.
he’s devouring your fucking face at this point - like a man starved. your back meets a wall, a soft gasp leaving your mouth. rafe swallows the sound, a small grunt escaping his throat. he pulls away after a few moments, his forehead resting against yours as he pants.
“fuck, baby.. can’t stay away for t’long,” he whispers, “that okay with you?”
you chuckle, slightly out of breath, “d’you hear me complaining?”
“that’s my girl,” he drawls, his signature smirk filling your sight.
in one swift motion, his hands reach down and grasp your thighs, lifting you up. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist. he leaves small wet kisses on your neck, his breath hot against yours skin, all while his thumb rubs circles into the small of your back.
your back meets his plush bed again, the man in front of you already on his knees. his eyes flicker from your panties to your eyes, that fucking proud smirk plastered on his smug face.
“you got time, right?” he chuckles, kissing up your inner thigh.
you nod, breathing heavily.
oh, you were definitely sober now.

115 notes
·
View notes
Note
For either Loki or Bucky… dating someone who uses edible glitter in food just because. They love glitter anyway, but sparkly food just brings an extra spark of joy.
For the record, I’m talking about the mica based glitter, not the plastic stuff. Makes the food sparkly, does no harm to your digestive system. Also tasteless and has no texture.
Scared of a Little Glitter?
Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) new relationship
Summary: Bucky spends the night at your apartment for the first time and he learns you have a very interesting food habit when he offers to make you coffee in the morning.
A/N: This is so adorable @firedrakegirl ! Lol I absolutely love this request. Thanks so much for sending it. I hope you like it! Sorry it took me literally forever to get back to writing it. Thanks for waiting! 💚
You open your eyes slowly when you feel a soft kiss on your cheek. "Good morning doll," Bucky says quietly, you can hear the smile in his deep voice. His metal arm is wrapped around your waist, keeping your back flush to his bare chest as your legs tangle with his under the covers.
"Good morning handsome," you smile sleepily, turning your head far enough to kiss his lips lightly without slipping from his comfortable grasp.
"Want some coffee?" he asks.
"Yes please," yawning as you nod and cover his metal arm with yours, your fingers intertwine with his.
"I'll need you to let go," he whispers in your ear. You pout and he chuckles in response as you let go of his hand. "It'll only take a few minutes," he kisses your shoulder from behind then pulls off the covers and gets out of your bed.
You roll over resting your chin on your palm as you watch him bend to pick up his jeans from the floor and slip them back on. "Enjoying the view?" he smirks when he looks up and makes eye contact with you.
You giggle, shaking your head, "Nope."
He laughs and walks to the edge of the bed, leaning down to kiss your lips when you look up at him. "Liar," Bucky winks at you, pulling his lips away from yours much too quickly for your liking.
"Y/N, can you come here?" Bucky calls from the kitchen moments later.
You get up from bed quickly, concerned by his tone of voice. Throwing on Bucky's discarded shirt and a pair of shorts you leave your room and call back, "Everything okay?"
He waits until you enter the kitchen to respond which only makes you more curious. "I think your milk went bad," he sounds unsure of himself as he holds the container as far away as possible in his metal hand. "It's green," he shakes the milk slightly and the colors swirl together. "And blue?"
You laugh, "There's nothing wrong with it. I added glitter to it."
"Glitter?" he keeps his eyes on the container as the glitter slowly settles to the bottom and the liquid becomes white again.
"Yep," you confirm with a nod.
"Why?" your very confused boyfriend asks as you take the milk from him and unscrew the cap.
"Cause it's pretty," you answer, "Obviously."
"Okay sure but now we can't drink it," Bucky says as he watches you pour it into your mug. "Wait, Y/N-" he cringes.
"It's totally fine," you tell him with a smile. "It's not the same type of plastic glitter Tony uses in his pranks."
"It's not?" the super soldier furrows his brow as you add a bit of sugar and mix your coffee. You pour a little milk into his mug and he groans quietly.
"Nope, this is made for food," you explain. "It just makes it sparkly and fun." You pick up his mug and hand it to him.
He looks down into the mug, watching the glitter swirl around the coffee. "I'll take your word for it," he puts the mug down on the counter.
"Oh come on, give it a try," you blow on your coffee lightly then take a sip. "I promise you can't taste it and it doesn't have a weird texture or anything."
"I'll pass," he shakes his head.
"Scared of a little glitter?" you giggle.
"I'm not scared, I just don't want to drink it," Bucky says.
"Mmhmm," you hum as you walk past him to put the milk away and grab the ingredients to make breakfast.
"I'm not scared," he insists, folding his arms across his chest.
"I believe you," you say with a smirk, closing the door to the fridge. "Can you make some toast? Breads over there," you point towards the bread next to your toaster.
"Sure," he nods, thankful you've dropped the glitter topic.
Setting the eggs next to the stove you ask him, "Scrambled or omelet?"
"Scrambled please," he kisses your cheek after he loads the four slices into the toaster.
"Coming up," you grab a pan and a bowl. Bucky stands behind you, his arms around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder. After cracking a few eggs into the bowl you ask him, "Red or purple?"
"What?" he lifts his chin.
"Red or purple?" you ask again without any further explanation.
"Red?" he responds and you giggle at how unsure he sounds as you open the cabinet next to you and pull out the red mica glitter. "No," he groans but it's too late.
"What?" you play innocent as you whisk the eggs.
"Glitter again?" Bucky sighs deeply.
You take another sip of your coffee and hold it up for him, "You can't taste it. Give it a try."
"I'd rather not," Bucky mumbles.
You laugh, "You remind me of the grumpy guy from green eggs and ham."
"I have no idea what that means," he says, "But green eggs sound gross."
"That's what the guy in the book said," you smile as you add the red, glittered eggs to the pan. "But he never tried them, he just decided he hated them cause they were green."
"That's a fair reason," Bucky chuckles.
"Anyway..." you roll your eyes, "His friend keeps trying to get him to eat it and when he finally does-"
"He dies," he laughs louder and you swat him with the towel you keep on your stove handle.
"No!" you scold him, trying to keep from laughing. "He realizes they are delicious."
"That was my next guess," he smiles and kisses your cheek.
"I'm sure it was," you say sarcastically as you continue to cook the sparkly red eggs. He watches over your shoulder and you look up, kissing his neck. "Bucky, trust me. You won't even notice the glitter."
"Okay," he finally agrees and you smile as the toast pops. "I'll grab plates. You want butter for your toast?"
"Yep, thanks," you smile to yourself knowing you rolled the stick of butter in pink glitter a few days ago.
Bucky laughs in disbelief from behind you, "Really? Even the butter?"
"I couldn't help it," you tell him honestly when he comes back with two plates. One plate has toast with pink, melted butter and the other has plain toast. "No butter for you handsome?"
He raises an eyebrow at you to answer your question and you giggle then put half the eggs on each plate. Bucky sits next to you at the dining table, staring at his food in silence as he pushes the eggs around with his fork. You wait patiently as he finally scoops the smallest bit possible onto his fork and holds it up to his mouth. He looks over at you and you smile to encourage him.
"The things I do for you," Bucky says dramatically just before taking a bite.
You drink your coffee and he looks at you with a bit of a shocked expression. You smirk, "Can't even tell there's glitter in it can you?"
"You're so annoying," you shake your head and eat your eggs.
"No," he admits.
He pulls your chair closer to him, "You love me."
"I know," you smile and kiss his cheek as he steals a piece of your pink buttered toast, "But you're still annoying."
I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did ❤️❤️ Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
@soubi001 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @ash-muses @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @wolfsmom1 @sabspoetic @peaches1958 @catsladen @michellewgrt @crimson25 @jaidenhawke @mochie85 @itscomplicatedx @motherofmischief
#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#bucky fluff#bucky fandom#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fandom#bucky marvel#bucky mcu#bucky barnes marvel#bucky barnes au#bucky au#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female yn#bucky barnes x fluff
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
second chance. l Frankie "Catfish" Morales
Summary: you broke up after a quarrel, now you've met again
Warnings: angst, mentioning drug addiction, crying, breakup, mentioned Santi, some fluff at the end
A/N: I had to clear my head. I'm not proud of it, but I had to write something. Be gentle. Thank you for being here and reading these scribbles.
your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
[my masterlist][Frankie Morales masterlist]
"Hi, you look good."
You didn't expect those words, but you knew that voice so well that your heart skipped a beat. A strange feeling filled your body, as if someone had suddenly stripped you of all your insides and left you empty. Even though the pub was filled with people, suddenly it was just you and him.
"Hi, Frankie." You replied, trying to keep your voice neutral. "You look good too."
A small smile appeared on his lips, he probably realized that it was just a polite greeting. A greeting for those who know each other. But you were more than that, right?
You didn't expect to meet him in this pub that evening. It was a strange assumption, because after all, you lived in the same city. However, when you break up with someone, and that breakup was like a hurricane and an earthquake in one, you don't usually try to meet them again soon.
And so it was with you and Frankie. Almost a year ago, maybe a little longer. And now he was standing in front of you. In a clean shirt and dark jeans, in a cap you knew so well. Brown eyes stared at you with the same attentiveness as before. He really looked good. Like he had a good night's sleep, eaten a few solid meals and... was clean.
"Do you come here often?" he asked, he noticed you looking around the crowd of people looking for someone with your eyes. "Um, are you here with someone?"
"With a friend." you replied. "Do you remember Sarah?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I remember. A girls' night out?"
"Something like that. But no, I don't come here often. I don't have much free time."
Frankie smiled, and a part of your brain woke up sending you a signal - you loved his smile so much.
"I always thought you worked too much." he said, winking at you.
"That's not it." you looked down and there was silence for a moment.
You felt embarrassed by his presence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. You had worked through all the bad feelings you had when you broke up, and you actually missed him a little. Did it make sense? You had broken your hearts, but you still missed him. Was it masochistic?
"I've been going to school for a while now. You know, I told you about it. Back in the day..."
Frankie's eyes widened with interest as he remembered what you were talking about. "No, shit! Really? That's great! You've wanted to do this for a long time, so good for you."
A warm feeling crept up the back of your neck, but you smiled widely. "Thank you."
Frankie bit his lip and nodded in appreciation. "I've always thought you were incredibly smart. So that's what's taking up so much of your time now? That and work?"
"Yeah. Sometimes I go days without a proper meal or... I'm sorry, that must bore you."
"No! Go on, darling."
The sweet nickname slipped out of his mouth naturally, and it was even more natural when he took your elbow and led you a little to the side so you could talk in peace. The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, you knew it so well. Your body began to react with pleasant excitement to his presence.
"And what about you? How's life?" you asked.
Frankie adjusted his cap and let out a breath. "Good. Quite good." he replied. "I changed companies, and now I have really good conditions."
"That's great."
"Yeah, I think so too."
It was late when he got home, but he could feel something was wrong from the very beginning. All the lights were on, and the noises coming from the bedroom were rather unusual.
Damn it, you should be asleep already. He didn't feel like starting another row, and they filled these walls almost every day. However, he dragged himself down the hallway and gently pushed the door open.
Frankie didn't expect this. There was an open suitcase on the bed. He noticed a bundle of your clothes thrown into it in disarray. The drawers in the dresser and the wardrobe were open.
He cleared his throat and took a step, but at the same moment you came out of the bathroom carrying your cosmetics in your hands. You stood there paralyzed when you saw Frankie in the doorway.
Your eyes were swollen from crying, but there was something else in them. Anger and stubbornness, determination.
"What's going on?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.
You lifted your chin slightly. "What does this look like?" you asked as well, quickly approaching the bed and throwing your things into the suitcase. With a graceful movement you closed it "I'm leaving. It's over."
A cold shiver ran down his spine. He took a few more steps and put his hands on his hips watching you struggle with the latches.
"Come on..." Frankie began "It's late. Let's talk about this."
You didn't react. Something inside him boiled and he grabbed the handle of the suitcase, dragging it across the bed towards him.
"Leave it!" you hissed, catching it and holding it "I'm not joking, Frankie! I'm leaving! I've had enough!"
"What this time?" he replied a little too loudly "You're making a scene!"
Before the words left his mouth he already knew he had overdone it. Your eyes widened in a second.
You reached into your pants pocket and after a moment you threw something at him. The small bag bounced off his broad chest and fell silently to the carpet. He recognized it immediately.
"I found it in the car. You must have dropped it last time." you growled.
"It's not like that..."
"Bullshit!" Tears welled up in your eyes. "I've been hearing the same lies for months! I know exactly why you got fired! I wanted to help you, and you promised me you'd never... Ohhh!"
You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and pulled it to the ground, then headed for the door. You pushed past him without letting him grab your arm. Frankie had taken you to the edge. You'd been together for almost two years, and you really loved him. But his addiction was becoming more important than you. You asked, you wanted to help.
The therapist you found for him told you that Frankie had only been to see him three times before he stopped showing up at all. He told you that he went there regularly. Then there were the problems at work and he got fired, he started coming home later and later, and when you were looking for something that had fallen on the floor of your car and you found that damn bag - you already knew.
Your heart was breaking with every step, but you knew that Frankie needed shock therapy. You knew you couldn't...
"Frankie!"
You almost reached the door when you suddenly lost ground under your feet. Strong arms wrapped around your waist and Frankie lifted you up. You started kicking your legs.
"Let me go!" you screamed.
"You're not going anywhere! You can't!" he thundered, putting you down and turning to face him "You have to listen to me, it's not like that..."
"Shut up! You've been lying all this time! All this time!"
"Not when I said I loved you, hermosa."
"Oh! Cut this shit! This isn't love!" your face was full of rage, you wanted to hurt him, to stick a needle in him so hard that it would hurt him for a long time "You just needed someone to clean up the mess after you! Someone to pat you on the head and let you do all this! You needed a pussy you could fuck!"
There was silence. Frankie's hands were gripping your shoulders tightly, his eyes darkened.
"You know that's not true." he finally said.
"Yeah? And what of what you're saying is true? Nothing. Zero. I wanted to help you, but you don't care at all." you jerked away "Let me go, Frankie."
"You have to listen to me..."
"Let me go! Now!"
His fingers loosened and you slipped out of his hands. You grabbed your suitcase again and this time you reached the door.
"I love you." his resigned voice reached your ears.
"I'm not so sure about that anymore."
You took a sip of beer while listening to Frankie. He seemed excited about his new job, and the energy that flowed from him was simply positive. His hand would occasionally brush your arm or wrist as you both burst out laughing, his eyes looking at you with the tenderness you knew from the beginning of your acquaintance.
"I guess I'll have to go back now." You sighed, glancing at your phone. "I have classes tomorrow."
"Do you like it?" he asked, watching you text your friend back, informing her that you had to leave.
"What do you mean?" you looked up at him. Frankie shrugged.
"Your life. Now. Because it seems to me that you're different. More fulfilled? Happier?"
"I don't know, I haven't thought about it to be honest."
He nodded, his hand shyly finding yours. "Can I give you a lift home?"
You agreed. Maybe you shouldn't have, maybe it was a mistake. But Frankie had somehow found his way to your heart, and you didn't want to part ways with him yet.
"When you left..." he began as you drove through the empty streets towards your apartment "It hit me. Really hard."
You clenched your fingers, but you couldn't look in his direction. But Frankie clearly wanted to talk, maybe he had been waiting for this for a really long time and could finally get it all off his chest.
"I drank for three days. I don't remember much from that period. Santi showed up at my place and... He told me something I'll never forget."
You could barely recognize your own voice. "What did he say?"
Frankie cleared his throat. "He said it was all my fault. That I was dragging you down, and you were trying to keep us both afloat the whole time. He also said that if I wanted you back, that if I loved you at all, I should do something about it."
Something tightened your throat and your eyes stung from the tears that were seeping into your eyelids. The car turned, you were already close to your apartment.
"I went to therapy. Santi took me there twice a week. It was a terrible time. He had to take my phone because I wanted to call you every day. I don't know how I managed to get through it without you."
"But you did it." You dared to look at him, a weak smile appeared on his face. "I'm so proud of you, Frankie."
"Thank you."
The car stopped. Your journey ended, and you got out, feeling like your legs were almost giving out under you. You whispered a quiet "thank you" and "I'm glad I saw you, Frankie." and then feeling like your heart almost jumped out of your chest, you headed for the door.
"I still love you."
You closed your eyes. His voice was clear, determined. You stopped, feeling like you could fall apart at any moment.
"Frankie..." you whispered, but he wouldn't let you do more.
He was right behind you now, you could feel the heat radiating from him. Your body reacted to his closeness.
"I knew you'd be at this pub today."
You turned around and looked at him, surprised. Frankie seemed embarrassed, but he continued.
"I met Sarah a while ago. We talked..."
He noticed a small frown between your eyebrows, "She didn't tell me anything..."
Frankie shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged, "I begged her not to tell you. Listen, all this year you were the only thing that kept me alive. I wanted to be clean again, but I also wanted to be able to look you in the eye again. I'm sorry, hermosa... I'm sorry you went through all that with me. It was hell, and you tried so hard to save me."
You couldn't stop the tears that began to flow down your cheeks. You didn't even react when a warm hand touched your cheek and he wiped the tears away with his thumb.
"I still love you, hermosa." Frankie continued. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop. But I know I can't expect that from you, not after what I did."
"You hurt me, Frankie..." you sobbed, you saw the pain in his eyes, the same pain you still felt in your heart. "I wanted to save you, I wanted to save us... Maybe I wasn't strong enough?"
"No, it's not like that!" he shook his head, taking your face in both hands. "It wasn't a job for just one person. I understand that now. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I let you down so much."
You instinctively snuggled into his chest. Damn, you missed him so much this year. Almost every day you wondered what was happening to him, or you thought back to the times when everything was fine. There were days when you hated Frankie, when you resented yourself for always having him in your heart. But now you understood - you had to fall apart to understand what was truly important to you.
Frankie stroked your back, repeating silent apologies, and you felt as if all the tension that you had in your body was slowly leaving you.
"You okay?" he asked when you finally pulled away from him, wiping the last tears with your hand and probably completely smudging your mascara.
You nodded, "Yeah. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."
"Don't apologize, hermosa. You have nothing to apologize for."
There was silence for a moment. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, rather one where you were both trying to gather your thoughts. Finally, you were the first to speak.
"I'm so glad you managed to do all this. I'm really proud of you, Frankie. Now... Now your life will be different, better."
"You think so?" he asked, and you looked at him surprised. "I guess you didn't hear what I said earlier. I love you, and I don't know if I'll ever stop. But I know I can't force you to do anything. You listened to me, that's already a lot. Maybe that's all I deserve."
He must have already accepted it, except that he lost you, because before you could answer anything, he slowly moved towards his car. You watched him, feeling your heart pounding in your chest like crazy. You weren't even aware that you had opened your mouth, only the sound of your voice that cut through the silence brought you back to your senses.
"I'm finishing classes tomorrow after three. If you want to go for coffee, or..."
In an instant Frankie turned around "How about for lunch? You'll definitely be hungry, and you said you haven't been eating very well lately."
You smiled and nodded. "Lunch sounds good."
"Wonderful." He smiled too. That damn smile of his.
"So... Are we in touch?"
"Of course, hermosa."
With a slightly calmer heart you disappeared into the building, feeling that the smile didn't leave your face.
Maybe a second chance really did exist? Maybe you too had a chance for a new beginning...
☆☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
#pedro pascal#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales#triple frontier#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x f!reader
82 notes
·
View notes
Note
so…sub!hotch.
Whatever gender you prefer to interpret this as is totally fine but when I think of sub Aaron I think he just needs a strong, burly man he can fully *trust* to hold him down so he can let go. I think he has one of those moments where he gets smacked around a little bit and it’s this deep release, just absolutely sobbing and so desperate for comfort.
GOD YES HOLDING HIM DOWN
This post is Hotch x gender neutral!reader
*NSFW MDNI*
Holding him down plsplsplspspls I want to do that. I want to use his ties too.
I've never really thought much about smacking him around or making him cry and be desperate for comfort but this is definitely making me think about it.
He has to REALLY trust the person that he does this with though. It would take him a very long time to get comfortable with the idea of letting anyone do this to him. And I think he has to come to you about it first. Asking if you would ever want to try it, but that he was just thinking about it and that he isn't sure yet. You could definitely ask him first too, but you'd have to wait a good while before mentioning it to him because I think he'd be a little uncomfortable at first.
Once he is ready though, he tells you one night when you're both in bed together, probably watching some movie that neither of you are too interested in. And then he brings it up.
"Hey, you know how we talked about...well about you being really rough with me at some point? Well I've been thinking about it a lot lately and I think I'm ready to give it a try."
You need him to be completely sure though. So you ask him.
"Are you sure you're ready? You said you think you are. I want you to be completely certain about this, Aaron."
So he thinks for a second before nodding his head and telling you that he's definitely ready for it.
You both talk it through and talk about safe words. You explain what will happen and ask if he's comfortable with it all. You ask him what all he wants and what he is wanting to get from this experience. You both agree on what he doesn't want you to do to him. You know it could take a lot out of Aaron and you want him to be as ready and at ease as possible.
You would start slow and work him up to really getting rough. You spank him lightly a few times and gradually increase the force. I don't think he would like you using anything on him like a belt though. He likes it when you grab his jaw and force him to look at you.
I'm not sure about smacking him around a lot, I'd like to spank him a bit though so that's what I'm including here. Making him cry for release though is something I love. Maybe choking him some too 😮💨. But holding him down or tying him up is a favourite. He has finished more than once by the time you're done with him. He's whining and whimpering from overstimulation, begging you to give him a break but babbling about needing you to use him. If he really wanted you to stop you know he would say one of his safe words. Pinning his hands down when he tries to squirm too much or if he tries to make a move when you told him he wasn't allowed to touch you or himself.
And then how you clean him up and soothe him after everything to let him know he's safe and loved and that it's okay. He loves it when you hold him in your arms where he knows he can be vulnerable and let go. He doesn't have to worry about you really hurting him or anything. He likes feeling safe and secure with you and curling up in your arms.
Thank you for the ask!! I've never thought about something exactly like this especially not in depth but it was fun :)
#anon🩶#aaron hotchner#hotchner#hotch#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x gn!reader#aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner smut#hotch x reader#hotch x gn!reader#hotch x gender neutral reader#hotch x you#hotch x reader smut#aaron hotchner x reader smut#aaron hotchner x gn!reader smut#aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader smut#hotch x gn!reader smut#hotch x gender neutral reader smut#hotch thoughts#ssa aaron hotchner#ssa hotch#hotch🌜#mon answers🩷
72 notes
·
View notes