#the background is my kitchen; i was gonna just use the photo but i decided to just trace it shittily instead

[camels-pen]

sanji offered to make him something and usopp saw an opportunity

[nicoline1998enilocin]

hey love, i have a request if you’re up for it

my birthday is this friday and i was wondering if you could make a Bucky birthday fic, it could be smut, fluff, both, anything i want you to let your creativity run wild

i love your fics and i know this one will be amazing🩷

Bucky's Big Birthday Bash

PAIRING | Fiancée!Bucky Barnes x Fiancé!Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.9K

SUMMARY | You've been secretly planning Bucky's birthday, and even though he said he wanted to keep it small, you're gonna give him the best party he has ever had after missing out on 70 years of birthday parties.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Very light angst, swearing, smut [ grinding, oral (M receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation ].

A/N | Thank you so much for the request, @multiversefanfics, and I wish you the happiest of all birthdays and that all your birthday wishes may come true! Enjoy my little present from me to you, and I can't wait to see more of your work, too! Yours is just as amazing after all 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🩷

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

''Hmm, good morning, doll,'' Bucky says as he turns around, reaching out to pull you close to his chest, but to his surprise, he's met with an empty space on your side of the bed.

''Doll?'' he says as he sits up, unsure why your usual space is now cold and lifeless. Usually, you're there every morning to cuddle up to him, share kisses, and start the day slowly.

Right now, something feels off to Bucky, and he can't quite place it.

He gets out of bed and walks through your shared apartment, calling your name a few times before finally spotting the note on the kitchen counter next to a cold cup of coffee. Yours, he presumed.

J,

I'm on an emergency mission with Tony + Steve. I'll call when I can.

Love,

Your doll

The handwriting is rushed, and he sighs. He hates mornings like these, even though he knows the feeling. Bucky has also been called out for many emergency missions, making it more lonely.

He pours the mug's contents into the sink and makes some black coffee in that same mug. It's your favorite, but whenever you're not there, he likes to use it as a reminder of you.

When the coffee is gone, he changes into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie to go for a run through New York; he has to burn off some energy in a different way now that he can't have you first thing in the morning.

The mission is a success, but you decide not to let Bucky know you're back for just a few more hours, using this time to work on a surprise for Bucky's birthday with Steve in his studio.

You have asked Steve to paint a portrait of you and Bucky from the night you got engaged based on a few photos that somebody took, and he's more than happy to help you out.

''I still find it hard to believe he has been planning on proposing for such a long time,'' you tell Steve while sitting on a chair that's pulled next to him.

''Believe me, I've been there every step of the way, and he was so nervous he couldn't do it the first few times,'' Steve says as he's mixing some paint to finish the night sky in the background.

''Excuse me? Did you say-'' is all you can say because your phone is going off, and you see it's Bucky calling.

''Hold that thought,'' you say as you pick up.

''Hi, Hubby, is everything okay?'' you ask, worried; Bucky usually doesn't call unless it's an absolute emergency.

''Hey, I'm sorry for asking, but when do you think you'll be home? I haven't seen you in almost a week, and JARVIS tells me the mission is done. I miss you and your cuddles,'' Bucky sighs as he admits he's been waiting for your arrival home.

''It's okay. I have a few more errands to run, and then I'll be home. Shouldn't be more than a couple hours,'' you tell him, even though you feel bad for lying.

''Oh, okay. Be careful, and I love you, Bubby,'' he says with the defeat laced through his voice.

''I will, and I love you too, Hubby,'' you say as you hang up.

You look at the canvas again while Steve is working, and tears start welling up in your eyes, thinking about how lucky you are to have met this gorgeous man you'll call your husband soon.

When you sniff softly, Steve suddenly stops and looks at you.

''Are you okay?'' he says as he sets his supplies down and grabs your hand to pull you in for a hug.

''Sorry, yeah. It's just that it's- well, it's hard not telling him what I'm planning for him. I hate keeping secrets, especially from him,'' you sigh as guilt slowly creeps up your spine.

''You should go home and see him. I know he'll be more than happy to see you,'' Steve says, and you know he's right.

''Alright, and thank you again for doing this; you're the best,'' you say as you head out and back to your husband-to-be.

This time, it was Bucky's turn to be called in for a last-minute mission, and this gave you the perfect opportunity to get everything ready for his birthday without worrying about him finding out.

The painting Steve had done turned out to be perfect, and you thanked him by taking him out for lunch, which he hesitantly accepted.

''Steve, please! Let me repay you for all your hard work with lunch. It's the least I can do!'' you said, and he finally gave in, so the two of you got some delicious bagels for lunch.

Now you're busy as the Compound, where you're decorating one of the smaller ''party rooms'' as Tony calls them, to celebrate his birthday with the Avengers.

Bucky told you that even though he's okay with celebrating his birthday, he doesn't want a huge party or anything. Just dinner with you and a movie is all he needs, but he also knows that's probably different from what he will get.

Sure, with the help of Tony, you've got a reservation at one of the fanciest restaurants in New York on his birthday, but the rest of the evening will be lowkey with some presents, drinks, music, and dancing.

You've got a huge banner that says ''Bucky's Big Birthday Bash!'' in black and gold; it says ''Happy 106th Birthday,'' the colors matching his Vibranium arm.

All the presents from everyone are neatly arranged on a table, and yours, standing in the center of it all, is by far the biggest.

The rest of the room is decorated with little garlands, small triangular flags, and simple decorations. When you're done, you look around the room again, and when you're happy, you lock the door behind you so no one can come in unsupervised.

Later that night, Bucky gets home just in time for his birthday, and you're delighted to have him back right on time.

It's the morning of Bucky's birthday, and you're planning on surprising him first thing in the morning. You slipped out of bed a little earlier and changed into a gorgeous set of red lingerie and stockings.

You're preparing breakfast for him in the form of pancakes, and you got him his favorite fruit as a dessert, the plums already waiting in a bowl on the kitchen table.

When Bucky's alarm goes off, you're in the bedroom but not lying next to him. Instead, you've seated yourself in the big armchair in the corner, waiting for him to notice you.

''Mornin' doll,'' he says with his deep, rumbling voice, and you can't help but feel yourself grow wet at the sound.

''I'm over here, J. I've been waiting for you to wake up,'' you say, and his eyes scan the room and immediately grow wide when he spots you in your lingerie.

''Well, happy fucking birthday to me!'' he says as you get up and walk over to him.

''Happy fucking birthday indeed,'' you say as you push him down and get seated on his already hard dick, slowly grinding back and forth while you work your tongue into his mouth.

Deep groans come from his chest as you keep the same slow rhythm while precum slowly dribbles from his cock to make a damp patch in his underwear.

''Want me to clean you up?'' you ask with innocence in your eyes, but Bucky is well aware that you're intentions are anything but innocent when he sees the outfit you're wearing, but he's not mad at it.

''Please,'' he says, and you crawl down his body, leaving soft kisses in your path as you work his underwear from his body. You throw it to the side and place your hand around the base of his hard cock.

Your lips wrap softly around the tip, and you suckle, making him buck his hips and work deeper into your mouth.

''Jesus, doll,'' he moans as you take him slowly into your mouth, sucking your cheeks in as you do until your nose is connected with his pubic bone.

You keep bobbing your head up and down until Bucky's hands find their way into your hair, and he starts thrusting up into your mouth and throat until you're gagging around him.

As he does it, your nails are buried into his thighs, and you try to breathe through your nose unsuccessfully.

When you tap his thigh twice, he lets up, and you can finally breathe, a few strings of saliva running down your chin and connecting to his cock, making you look extremely fucked out, combined with the glossed-over eyes.

''You're gonna be the death of me, doll,'' Bucky says, and you just smile before taking him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks and sucking until he's shooting his cum deep into your throat, forcing you to take every last drop.

When you let go with a wet pop, he immediately pulls you up and moves your panties to the side so he can slide in with one thrust.

You let out a broken moan, and your head falls onto his shoulder, unable to hold itself up at the pleasure you're feeling.

His hands slide over your sides, down your hips, and onto your ass which he grabs before planting his knees on the bed and fucking you thoroughly.

''F-fuck, Bucky! Y-y-yes!'' you say between his thrusts and your moans, and you can't help but cum quickly, squirting all over his cock, legs, and the bed.

''Fuck, such a little slut for me, huh? Squirting all over me like the dirty fucking slut you are?'' Bucky says that his pace doesn't slow down even a bit, and soon you're overstimulated.

''B-Bucky, please! C-can't!'' you whine as he keeps rutting his hips into you, but he's not done yet. He knows you would use your safeword if he goes too far, so he keeps going.

''C'mon, just need one more, and then I'll cum for you,'' he says, and shortly after you do, feeling the orgasm set your insides on fire as it washes over you with incredible power.

''G-gonna cum, doll!'' he says, and he does, painting your soft, velvet walls with his cum as he keeps slowly thrusting as he works through his orgasm.

''You did perfectly for me, doll, always doing so good. You took me so well,'' he says as the two of you stay like that for a little while. He pulls out and cleans you up with a warm washcloth when he's gone completely soft.

''C'mere Bubby,'' he says as he pulls you close to him, his Vibranium arm soothing as he places it on your heated face.

''Love you so much,'' you babble out, and he smiles as he places a soft kiss on your lips, making sure he's gentle not to overwhelm you.

The two of you spend the rest of the day eating your breakfast and getting ready for Bucky's birthday dinner you've planned, and when you walk out of your walk-in closet, you show him the red lace dress you bought for this occasion.

Your hair is curled to perfection, and your make-up is light with a bold red lip that matches your dress perfectly. You put on your black heels and twirl a few times to show him the finished outfit.

''Hold on, there's only one thing missing,'' he says, taking off his dog tags and hanging them around your neck, where they fall perfectly between your breasts.

''Now it's perfect,'' he says, and you can't help but smile at him.

He changed into his birthday outfit, too, and after his hair was done, the two of you headed to the restaurant in your car. Since you two are the first to arrive, you decide to head in and get seated so Bucky can adjust to the atmosphere and stay calm later.

''Good evening, we're here for the reservation under the name Stark,'' you tell the lady behind the counter, and she nods when she finds it.

''You two are the first to arrive, but I suspect the rest of them will follow soon,'' she says as she guides you to a private room. Tony went all out for this, and you're making a mental note to thank him later.

''I can't believe you planned this for me; you know I would have been excellent if it was just the two of us, right?'' he asks, and he takes your hand, stroking it with his thumb.

''I know, but tonight is all about you, and even though it's just us and the other Avengers, I still wanted you to have a special night,'' you tell him, leaning in for a soft kiss.

The two of you are wrapped up in some small talk when the rest of the Avengers and Thor and Loki join in. Loki and Bucky may not be friends, but he promised to be there because you asked him to be.

Everyone is celebrating Bucky and you, and when it's Tony's turn, you can't help but thank him profusely for arranging this dinner in the private room.

''Thank you so much for doing this; it means a lot. And I promise to repay you for all of this,'' you say, but Tony laughs softly as he puts his hands on your upper arms.

''You don't have to repay me for anything; I'm doing this because I love you, okay? This night is all about the two of you, so this is all on me,'' he says, and you pull him in for a hug.

''Just know that I'm eternally grateful for everything you do for us,'' you say, and he smiles.

''I know. Now let's enjoy this dinner!'' Tony says as he sits down, and you do the same. It is a five-course meal; of course, Bucky and Steve have no problem eating it all.

When dinner is done, you're all on your way back to the Compound, and Bucky can tell you're getting cold. ''C'mere, you can have my jacket,'' he says as he shrugs it off and puts it on your shoulders.

''It looks better on you anyways,'' he says, and he places a kiss on your cheek, which makes you giggle softly.

Once you arrive at the Compound, everyone goes to the room you've prepared, but you stay behind with Bucky since you want it to be a surprise.

You have the perfect distraction figured out as you push Bucky into a nearby wall and start attacking him with kisses on his jaw and neck before giving a deep kiss on his lips.

Bucky's hands found their way to your hips, and he pulled you closer, reveling in all the attention you gave him. ''Bucky, we should go for one more surprise,'' you say once you finally manage to break apart.

''Do we have to...?'' he asks with a slight pout, which you kiss away.

''Yes, but after that, I'm all yours to do with whatever you want as your birthday present. You can even tie me up, and you can use whatever hole in whichever way you want,'' you whisper in his ear before nibbling softly on his earlobe.

''Fuck...'' he groans out, giggling softly before pulling him to the room where the other Avengers are.

Bucky opens the door, and everyone is there, yelling ''SURPRISE!'' as he walks in.

''Happy birthday, J,'' you say as he looks around the room, and he can't help but smile widely.

He's opening presents and getting everything from a few new knives for his collection to a cleaning kit for his Vibranium arm. Steve gave him a photo album with all their most precious memories, including a few photos from the 40s that he thought were forever lost.

Last up, however, is your present, and you walk over to get it.

''I will tell you in advance that you should thank Steve for this one, not me, because he helped me create it. I asked him to recreate one of our most special moments together as a reminder that you're stuck with me for the rest of our lives!'' you say, and everyone laughs loudly.

Bucky takes it and gives a small peck on your lips before ripping off the wrapping paper. Inside is the canvas Steve worked on from the night the two of you got engaged.

It's the two of you at the hiking trail where Bucky proposed, and the sunset is behind the two of you. Bucky is on one knee with the ring box popped open, and your hands cover your mouth as you realize what's happening.

Bucky has tears in his eyes as he looks at the canvas in front of him, looking back at the moment with nothing but fond memories.

''It is perfect; thank you so much for recreating this memory,'' Bucky says as he puts it on the floor and his arms wrap around you. He lifts you and captures your lips in a deep, loving kiss to thank you for the thoughtful gift.

''I love you so fucking much, and I'm the luckiest man in the universe,'' he says, and the two of you stay like that for a little longer.

After that, it's time for cake, drinks, and music, and the night is filled with laughter, happiness, and the feeling that everything is just how it is supposed to be.

You and Bucky have been dancing almost all night, and now you are sitting in an armchair in the corner, straddling his lap as his hands or on your ass. Neither of you cares as you are too wrapped up in your make-out session, and this night couldn't be more perfect.

[buzzyb33]

can i please get a josh (zerkaa) x f!reader fic where they do up the apartment for christmas\spend christmas together just a lot of fluff and warm feelings ty xxx

AHHHH OF COURSE ML 🫶🏽.

Prompt:in request.

Warnings: swearing

Josh was out for a sidemen video recording in central London, most likely going to be back soon, so, as his fiancée, I would obviously spend my free time doing something for us.

I grin as I sit cross legged and pick the branches, spreading them out evenly as I stack the parts on the faux tree.

I have some random Christmas music playing in the background.

I stand up straight as I finish fluffing out the tree in a way.

I’d always been a sucker for Christmas and went shopping for decorations the previous week.

I stood up to get the box in the kitchen when the door opens and closes.

I hear a sigh as I bring the boxes into the living and look towards the hallway and josh pulls his hoodie off.

“What you- oh you’re decorating? Can I help?” He smiles.

My eyes glisten as I nod.

“Course you can, help me with the bulbuls.”

He nodded and begun helping me put the blue white and grey balls on the tree.

I lean into him and smile.

As we finish with the tree I kiss his cheek and urge him to stand up.

“Go change into something more comfy Josh, you’re too bulky now.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Uh- I don’t think I am, but whatever.” He teasingly rolls his eyes and goes into our room.

I open the box that's filled with tinsel.

Josh comes back in with some Christmas pyjamas and a white shirt.

I smile at him as he sits cross legged next to me, taking some tinsel out the box.

We sit in a comfortable silence for a couple minutes before he speaks: “are we doing all the stairs again? And the fireplace?”

“Course we are.” I grin as he chuckles and finishes untangling the one in his hand.

He stands up and works on wrapping silver and he tinsels around the fire place while I start on the stairs.

The low hum of a Christmas playlist soothing as we work.

“Hey josh- I’ve done with the-“ I cut myself off as I trip on some fairy lights he left on the floor, tripping until he barely catches me.

We meet each others eyes and both burst out laughing.

I giggle and stand up straight.

“Let’s go and do the bedroom.” I say as we compose ourselves.

“Like the sound of that.” He winks and I slightly again.

We decorate the whole apartment in Christmas things, lights, tinsel, until it looked like an elf had through up on whole house.

Us two ended up in bed with empty hot chocolates next to us, him shirtless left as a pile of limbs as I muzzle into him, exhausted from putting so many things up.

“Thank you for helping me, Josh.” I say my tone a bit heavier as I close my eyes against his chest.

“You’re welcome..” he mumbled, his grip on my waist tightening.

He smelt of cinnamon and sweets when I nuzzled into him, my eyes closed.

The next morning I woke up to his light snores next to me, as I climb out of his grip I open the curtains to see the whole floor covered in snow.

I let out a light gasp and grin to myself.

As Josh stays asleep I decide to shower, change into some white jeans, a white long sleeved shirt and a black sweater, I get a scarf and gloves and set mine and Josh’s out.

Just as i do that I hear him grumble.

“N/n.. shut the curtains..” he moans into his pillow.

“It’s half ten, Josh.” I say as I fold them.

“What? Really?” He says and looks up.

“Why are you dressed? Are we going somewhere?” He says and sits up, the duvet falling to his thighs.

“It’s snowed so-“ he rubs his eyes as I continue.

“So I was gonna go for a walk and get some food or something.” I shrug.

“Do you wanna come?” He wraps his arms around my waist from behind and puts his head on my shoulder.

“Course..”

I smile and kiss his bearded cheek.

Mad we get ready to leave I insist on taking some pictures.

He smiles as I put my hat on.

We talk some photos the last one with us kissing.

I grin and hold his hand as we leave.

I drive is to central London and we walk around for around 2 hours, getting some food and Christmas gifts for family.

“If you was a 6 year old girl with a weird obsession with dinosaurs, would you rather the diplodocus or the pterodactyl?” He asks as we enter a toy shop.

“Definitely the diplodocus.” I say and he nods.

“Same for you- if you was a 10 year old boy with a weird obsession with spider man would you rather the figure of Gwen or Uhm- Iron spider?”

“Gwen, she’s cooler.” He responds and I nod.

We spend some more time getting cards then head back, we were out for 3 hours and we had to go out for food with one of my university friends.

As we have an hour or two to our selves we sit cross legged and wrap some gifts in the same comfortable hum of Christmas songs.

“Y/n how the fuck am I meant to wrap a teddy bear?” He scoffs and I see him struggling to wrap the stuffed dinosaur.

“Uh- focus on the body then the head I suppose here, do this.”

I hand him a shoe box that’s for Ethan (their stupid elf slippers) and take the plush.

I wrap it after mild difficulty and hand it back.

He thanks me and kisses my temple, handing it back.

I let a ghost of a smile stay on my lips as I keep wrapping.

After our meal we end up in the same state, tired and intertwined together like we’re one person not two separate.

I have my forehead on his bare chest as he rubs circles up and down my back.

“Goodnight n/n..” he murmurs as I wish it back, falling asleep in his strong grip again, skin to skin, heart to heart.

A/n: I loved this request made me giggle a bit, anyway! Simon headcannons coming soon then a Harry Fic.

I also do not know what pet names the boys would call their partner so..

REQUEST OR ASK ME ANYTHING!!

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Fourteen. There's No Way.

word count: 5k (not including pictures) warnings: swearing

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

a/n: yeeeeee very excited about this chapter!! we're getting so close to some good stuff!!!! hope you like it!!! (also, if you understand the reference to bug’s second tweet about mr clean, you’re a real one) 

______

Y/n laughed as she tucked her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on top as she stared at her computer monitor. "Yeah, okay, Gogy."

Quackity's laugh sounded through her headphones, cackling loudly and gasping for air as George defended himself in their voice channel. None of them were streaming, which allowed them to tease each other relentlessly without worrying about leaking real things. Currently, the target of the teasing was Y/n. Her guilty crime: Dream’s nickname for her. "She got his ass!"

"Oh shut up, Big Q," Y/n quickly spat back. "At least neither of us has a nickname that lies about our size. Short boy."

Quackity stopped laughing and pulled out his defensive card. "Okay, that's literally not funny. That's messed up of you to say, actually."

"Waaah," Y/n mocked.

"Okay, Bugsy, but no one seriously calls me Gogy, it's just as a joke," George defended himself. "I was only saying that I think it's cute how Dream calls you Bug!"

"Shut up," she mumbled with embarrassment. She loved the nickname and especially how everyone seemed to agree it was reserved for him. She wondered if he noticed that too, how everyone else, including most fans, called her Bugsy, leaving Dream as the only online friend who used the nickname.

"She's embarrassed," Quackity giggled. "Awww. Is the Buggy Wuggy embarrassed of having a crush?"

“I don’t have a crush,” she lied convincingly. 

“You better not. The title of your affection deservingly goes to me,” he said proudly, as if there was any shred of truth in his words.

“Get over yourself, Quackity,” George laughed, “before Dream tells you off again about being too short for Bugsy.”

“HEY!”

"I'm back," Sapnap announced as he unmuted in Discord. "What did I miss?"

"They're still bullying me," Y/n exaggerated.

“No, they’re bullying me!” Quackity scoffed.

“Sapnap, make them stop,” Y/n begged playfully. Usually Sapnap was on her side.

"It’s for a good reason though," Sapnap teased. "I mean, we'll stop bullying you if you admit to liking him," he lowered his voice slightly, probably since he lived in the same house as the man they were talking about.

Y/n smiled to herself and hid it behind her hoodie sleeve as if they could see her anyway. She kinda liked that she hadn't told Quackity or Sapnap about her official crush, enjoying having a secret like that. Well, a secret that George, Karl, and Naomi knew too.

"Then I guess I'll be bullied until the day that I die," she sighed. She swore she heard George cover a laugh with a cough and she sent his icon a death glare. He seemed to enjoy knowing her secret a little too much. 

"Is anyone going to actually stream today?" Sapnap asked. "I wanna do something."

"I'm thinking about doing Jackbox later," Quackity admitted. "Do you guys wanna join if I do?"

"Yes! Please," Sapnap whined. "I'm so bored."

"Sure, I'll play. Karl is spending the night so I can make him play too."

"Sleepover?" George asked. " Can I come?"

"Hm, no."

"That's messed up!"

"Can you join, George?" Quackity asked. "I need you in my title."

George hummed contemplatively and his voice turned mischievous, if only for a moment. "Yeah, if you get Dream to play."

Yeah, he definitely enjoyed knowing her secret too much.

"Right, you only play when your boyfriend plays too," Quackity groaned. "Cancel Dreamnotfound, I believe in Dreamsy supremacy."

"Says the man who asks me to marry him every day," Y/n scoffed.

"Actually, you're right! Bugity supremacy," he said.

"I swear it's become more frequent since I said you could flirt with me online again."

"It has, I'm making up for lost time."

Y/n rolled her eyes and Sapnap laughed. "I'll get Dream to play," Sapnap offered.

"So you'll play, George? I need you to commit," Quackity said.

"Yeah, why not," George agreed before adding with a giggle, "I wanna see Dream try to flirt with Bugsy."

"I hate you all,” specifically you, George, she thought. “I'm not playing anymore."

"NO, YOU ALREADY SAID YOU WOULD!" Quackity shouted.

"FINE," she groaned, a small laugh escaping her lips and completely exposing that she wasn't actually mad. "Speaking of Karl sleeping over, he's coming over in a bit so I'm gonna get off."

"Booo," Sapnap protested lightly. "Have fun with Karl."

"Let me know if he's going to play Jackbox with us. He better," Quackity threatened with no real substance.

"I'll make him," Y/n promised. "Bye guys!"

"Bye!" George and Sapnap shouted together before she disconnected the call.

Y/n stood up from her desk, stretching softly before looking around her room. She had a laundry basket in the corner, overflowing with clean, and now probably wrinkled, clothes waiting to be folded. She decided to use her time to clean up before Karl got there, even though they were probably going to sleep on the couches if at all.

She dumped the clean clothes onto her bed, tossing the things that needed to be hung to the side and neatly folded the rest. When she put her hoodies and sweaters on hangers, she noticed how much of her friends' merch she had. She had two GeorgeNotFound hoodies, a Sapnap shirt and hoodie, and even a Quackity hoodie. Karl didn't have any merch, but she did have a few of his personal hoodies that she had stolen from him over time and considered those her own exclusive merch, even though some of them had the Mr. Beast logo on them. She decided she needed Dream's merch.

For some unknown reason, perhaps it was because of how much she liked him, her face grew warm at the thought of wearing a Dream hoodie, even though it wouldn't have belonged to him. The idea made her nervous, like that would somehow give away that she had a crush on him if she bought some of his merch, even though she bought some of her friends' and even had Karl's actual hoodies. Despite the reasons that that was stupid of her to think, her brain said owning one Dream hoodie would be a dead giveaway of her crush, so she put off buying any. In reality, he'd probably laugh in his cute way when he heard that she bought one, or maybe go "whAT!" in surprise and happiness.

She desperately wanted to tell him things like that, tell him how happy his laugh made her and how adorable he was, or how she got butterflies every time he talked about anything at all. Since she couldn’t just call him up and tell him she hated stopped thinking about him, she decided to do something bold and subtweeted him, even adding a picture of herself with her face covered, hoping he would know it was about him, but that no one else would. She turned off comments for good measure, in case the stans made assumptions. Now that she threw away the "no flirting" rule for all her friends, she could do things like this. Worst case scenario is he thinks it’s weird, she tells him it was only a joke, and they go on their merry ways. Her heart would be broken, but nevertheless her ego would be somewhat saved. Harmless. 

Nervously ― plagued with the thoughts of possible consequences of posting something so bold and, to her, so obvious — she made her way to the kitchen and got a glass of water. He would know it was about him, right? And that's what she wanted? It was so forward of her to say to the world, especially since she hadn't tagged him in it. Leaving it up to interpretation almost made it like she was trying to hide it from him, which wasn't the case or she wouldn't have hit, Tweet.

She waited for him to tweet something vague about her as a response, or maybe even text her, before realizing it had the potential to make him uncomfortable. Maybe he would pretend to not see it so he didn't embarrass her, or didn't even know it was about him. Or maybe he's asleep and hasn't been on his phone. She looked at her clock. Dream asleep at 3:30pm? Unlikely.

As Y/n fell on her bed, contemplating whether she should delete the post and pretend like it never happened, she felt her phone vibrate and quickly swiped the screen to read it.

Y/n had to literally set her phone down to scream into her pillow. He was killing her. Stabbing her in the heart and twisting the knife with his sweet compliments and smooth delivery. He had to know what he was doing, the way he was talking to her like that. No one said "prove it" in that context without having something more behind it.

Why couldn't he just like her? Why did he have to be so nice and flirty towards all his friends? Why couldn’t she be the exception?

She picked her phone back up and left the messaging app, finding her camera roll and swiping through it in search for something to catch her eye. Food pic, meme, Karl’s cat, meme, picture of Naomi nearly falling off a sidewalk... where were her pictures of her face? Did she really not have any of herself? The seemingly endless scrolling stopped when she found one from when she first moved into the apartment. Naomi had taken pictures of every room to show her parents and asked Y/n if she could show her parents the streamers room as well. Y/n cheerfully agreed, and actually wanted to be in the photo because she loved Naomi’s parents like they were her own, so she jumped on her bed and smiled for the picture.

It was cute, the comforter she sat on was messy and looked comfy, and she liked the way she was posed, cross-legged and beaming at the camera with her dying plant on the windowsill in the background and fairy lights around the room. It was also back when her room was clean and presentable. Y/n thought it was a good photo and even would have posted it if not for the whole her being a faceless streamer thing.

She held her breath, contemplating if she should just send the image to Dream. She wanted to, she really did. But that fear of how he perceived her still nagged in the back of her mind.

Y/n must have been mulling it over for a while because as she decided to not send it, Dream followed up on his last text, clearly worried that he was pressuring her. She wanted to change the subject as soon as possible before she changed her mind and face revealed to him.

Y/n took a deep breath at the thought of how close she was to sending that picture to Dream. It wasn't the first time she genuinely considered it, nor would it be the last, but that was the first time she actually looked through her camera roll for options. She so desperately wanted to. Wanted to show him what she looked like. Wanted to hear what he thought of her. Wanted to hear him say, "I like you, Bug" after finally seeing what she looked like. Wanted to let him know how much she trusted him by showing him her biggest fear. It would be so easy to just rip off the Band-Aid; only a few clicks and he could see her face. See her.

But then there was the possibility of none of her fantasies happening. What if she sent him a picture saying, "here is me!" and all he says is, "nice", not finding her pretty or ugly? What if he thought it was just like... seeing a picture of a friend. He and I are just friends, Y/n scolded herself. But him seeing her opened up the opportunity for him to like her.

It was scarier the longer she put it off, almost like the more she postponed it, the more she had to prove. If Dream knew what she looked like from the beginning, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. But since she had waited so long to show him, she felt like she had to make it worth the wait.

Was she worth the wait?

Y/n's bedroom door swung open, ripping her out of her thoughts and letting her know that Karl had arrived. He smiled at her and she laughed in response.

"Hello, Karl. Ever heard of knocking?"

"Nope!" he responded as he set down a cupholder with three drinks on her nightstand. "How are you?"

"Good." Daydreaming out about Dream... again. "How are you?"

"I'm so excited!" He dropped his backpack on the floor and turned to her, pulling her off her bed and giving her a hug. "I've missed you!"

"You saw me, like, a couple of days ago," she laughed as she hugged him back.

"A couple of days too long," he sighed dramatically, rocking back and forth into the hug before Y/n lightly pulled away from him. "Where's Naomi?"

"Uh... in her room I'm guessing?"

"I'm going to go give this to her," he explained grabbing one of the drinks and walking out. "Don't miss me too much!"

Y/n laughed and shook her head, laying back down on her bed with her phone in hand. She reread some of the texts between her and Dream and couldn't help the large smile that plastered itself on her face.

When Karl came back in, he jumped on the bed, wrapping his arms around her stomach and snuggling into her side. "Hello."

She laughed but pushed him away slightly, trying to ignore the pout on his face at her actions. "Hi."

"Oh, happy December!"

"Already? Geesh."

"Yeah, only 27 days until the lake!!!!"

Nervous and excited butterflies festered in the pit of Y/n's stomach. "What drink did you get me?"

"Your faaavorite," he sang as he grabbed the drink letting her sit up and lean against the headboard before handing it to her.

"Thank you very much," she said as she took a sip. "Oh, hey, so Quackity wants to do a Jackbox stream tonight and I said you'd join."

Karl groaned and laid back on Y/n, careful not to knock her drink out of her hand. "Noooo...."

"You don't wanna play?" she asked genuinely, patting his hair lightly as his head rested on her legs.

"I just want to hang out with you. It's been so long since we had Karl and Y/n time."

She sighed. "I know, but it will be fun. We'll play for like an hour and a half and then we can hang out for the rest of the night and all day tomorrow until you have to go to Jimmy’s house," she bargained like she was talking a four-year-old into eating some vegetables.

"Hmph. Fine," Karl pouted. "Is Dream playing?"

She shrugged. "I think so?"

"That's why you want to play so bad."

"What? No! I agreed to play before Sapnap said he would ask him."

"Mmmhm. So that Tweet earlier wasn't about him?"

"The... Tweet?" she played dumb but her face warmed up.

"Or was it about me?" he joked. "Have you just been blown away ever since we met and you're still thinking about how cute I am?"

"Shut up," she lightly pushed Karl's head off her lap as her face grew hotter. "Am I wrong though?"

"I don't know!" he said as he sat up and looked at her. "I've never seen the man!!"

"Oh, really?" she asked. "I didn't want to post it because I didn't want people to think I was bragging about knowing what he looks like..." she sighed.

"Then why did you?"

"Because... I also really wanted him to see it," she said with a shy giggle.

Karl face lit up as he cackled at her. "Look at you, trying to flirt!! Let's gooo!!!"

Y/n buried her face in her sweatshirt collar and laughed.

"Oh my gosh? Y/n subtweeting and flirting at the same time?? What on Earth?"

"It only counts if it works."

"Did it?” Karl asked as he leaned back and played with his rings. “You turned off comments and I didn't see him subtweet you back."

"That's because he... texted me... instead."

"WHAT? What did he say?"

Y/n laughed. "He said I wasn't allowed to tweet something like that and then turn off comments so he can't tell everyone it was about him."

Karl cackled again. "HAHAH! So true though!"

"Whatever. I'm not telling you anything else about our conversation."

"Why, was it spicy?"

"No. But— this is weird to talk about!"

Karl frowned. "You don't have to tell me... I just think it's so cute. But if you ever do want to talk about how much you wuv Dweam, I'm all ears. Tell me everything."

Y/n rolled her eyes fondly. "Okay Kawl."

"What time is Quackity streaming?" Karl changed the subject, understanding that Y/n actually didn't want to talk about Dream.

"I don't know. Ask him. Also, tell him you're joining so he knows." She took another long sip from her drink as Karl pulled out his phone and texted Quackity.

Her fingers itched to make another Tweet about Dream and she finally succumbed, but decided to outright tease him instead of flirt, not hiding the identity of her target this time. Really, it was just an excuse for her to try to get his attention like she couldn't just text him and have it right away.

_____

"Sapnap!" Bugsy cheered as he joined the Discord, Quackity off talking to his chat while the others slowly joined. So far, the only people there were Sapnap, Bugsy, and Karl.

"Bugsy!" he called back with a giggle. "Hi! Is Karl coming?"

"I'm here, Sapnap!" Karl announced. "Bugsy and I are just using the same mic."

"Am I not good enough for you?" she teased Sapnap and he laughed.

"Well you're going to ignore me to talk to Dream once he gets here, so I need a backup so I'm not lonely."

Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile and Karl laughed.

"We can talk while they flirt," Karl promised.

"Both of you shut up," she scolded softly.

Pretty soon, the others joined. In the end, Quackity had convinced Bad, Punz, and Wilbur to play, as well as all the feral boys.

"You could only get nine people to play, Quackity?" George asked once Quackity unmuted. "Wow, you must not have friends."

"Hey! I have friends, George! I do."

"Then where's the tenth person, Big Q?" Wilbur countered.

"LOOK! It was last minute! Where's Drea– that man is always late, I swear to—"

"I'm here!" Dream said quickly, joining the voice channel. "I'm here! Hello, everyone. Hi, Bug."

Karl smacked his hand over his mouth to cover his laugh, which escaped anyway, as he nudged Y/n. She had immediately buried her face in her hands and Karl had to turn away from the mic so no one could hear him laugh at Dream's direct greeting.

She pinched Karl's side before greeting Dream. "Hi, Dream."

"Are you guys ready to play?" Quackity asked.

"Wait, no, we're going to have to have Gene! Can't you get anyone else?" Punz asked.

"Everyone I've asked has said no!" Quackity groaned. "I'm out of people. Deal with Gene."

Y/n and Karl looked at each other at the same time, thinking the same thing. Naomi had been talking about wanting to play Jackbox sometime but that she never has anyone to play with other than Karl and Y/n. She'd be meeting most of these people on vacation in a couple of weeks anyway, why not see if she wants to play?

"What about my roommate?" Y/n spoke up as Quackity sent the code to the Discord.

"Who?" he asked.

"You literally met her when you visited," Karl laughed. "Naomi."

"Oh, yeah! She's cool."

"Invite her to play," George said, making Dream laugh lightly and Y/n smile because they knew they had been talking a lot.

"Yeah, give me a second, don't start yet," Y/n said before sliding off her headphones and making her way to Naomi's room. Before Y/n could even knock, Naomi swung open her door quickly, phone open to the Twitch app in her hand.

"I heard everything," she rushed out, eyes wide and hopeful. "C-can I play?"

"Yeah, you want to?"

"PLEASE."

"There are currently 130,000 people watching, just so you know."

"That's fine, I'm cool under pressure." That was very true. Y/n wouldn’t have let Naomi join if she thought her friend couldn’t handle the attention. She thrived in it. "Should I come to your room?"

"Yeah, come on." Y/n led the way and pulled up a third chair to her desk. Karl offered to listen to the Discord on his phone so Naomi could use the second pair of headphones to listen to everyone. All three of them still used Y/n's mic, Karl muted on his phone. "Okay, kinda scuffed set up, but we're all here. Everyone, this is Naomi."

"Hello!" Naomi said happily. "Nice to meet you all!"

Everyone greeted her and Y/n noted the redness on Naomi's cheeks as George greeted her with a soft, "Nice to talk to you again, Naomi."

Karl giggled again and slapped his hand over his mouth; Y/n had a feeling he'd have to do that a lot this stream.

"Can we all agree to not pander?" Bad asked, earning a few approvals.

"What if we play one game where we only pander?" Dream asked. "Like pander as much as possible for every answer."

"Wait, yeah, let's do that so everyone can get it out of their system," Wilbur agreed.

"But Naomi doesn't know us well enough to pander yet," Sapnap countered.

"Yes I do," she said with a laugh. "I've watched enough streams and lore videos to know exactly how to get votes."

"Damn, okay then," Sapnap mumbled.

"Yeah, she'll be fine," George promise and Naomi blushed again, making Y/n laugh. Naomi joined the lobby on her phone and the round began.

Pandering being the goal was both annoying and hilarious because people used the same jokes, but it was funny to see how hard people were trying to get the audience votes.

"Something you would take with you on a deserted island," Quackity read out loud as the prompt showed up. "An iPad full of downloaded skephalo fanfiction, HAHAH, or dreamnotfound fanart." Everyone laughed and Y/n could hear George scoff at one answer in particular.

"Aw, I love Skeppy!" Bad said innocently.

"Was that your answer then, Badboyhalo?" Wilbur teased as everyone voted on their favorite. Y/n, of course, cast her vote towards skephalo, but still pretended like the other answer didn't make her jealous. The player votes were split, but the audience made Sapnap's answer win in a landslide.

"Okay, the most disappointing thing to hear from a friend," Wilbur read the next one out loud. "Dreamsy is real, and you don't have a shot with BugsyGames."

"What the hell?" Y/n laughed loudly at the similarity between the two responses. Dream was laughing so hard, wheezing like he would never stop, and the sound brought a large grin to Y/n's face.

Everyone's laughs overlapped and mingled with each other and it was such a happy sound, distracting everyone's attention from Y/n a little.

"That would be the worst thing to hear!" Quackity yelled. "Good thing Bugity is real."

Dream stopped laughing abruptly and instead yelled, "WHAT?" which only made everyone laugh harder.

"Vote!!" Bad reminded.

"Wait, Quackity, what did you just say?" Dream asked.

"Well, I've seen her face, so... I think she loves me more," he said, just trying to get a rise out of the other, which seemed to be working.

Y/n thought again about how close she was to sending a picture of herself to Dream earlier. He probably would have immediately used it against Quackity, but she didn't think she would have minded because it was funny to see Dream jealous, real or not.

"Only because you flew out to hang out with Karl!" Dream yelled. "I'd fly just to see her."

"Then do it," Y/n challenged before she could think and her heart stopped at her own words.

Dream went silent and it was Naomi's turn to cover her laugh with her hand, Karl's eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Why are you so defensive, huh, Dream?" Punz asked.

"Uh, you-you have to be when fighting for Bug's love and attention," he joked finally, and Y/n's heart resumed beating, a little fast at the implication of his words. Why did she say that? He probably thought she was so weird. "It's every person for themselves." Then again, so was he.

The votes were pretty split since they said the same thing, but the surprising thing was who said what. She expected one of them to be from Quackity, but she didn't know who wrote the second one about not having a shot. Sapnap maybe? Karl? They all joke around so who put it?

"DREAM?" Sapnap laughed. "You wrote that?"

"Well, yeah, I mean..." he trailed off with a laugh and Y/n's face caught fire. Did he really think he didn't have a shot? Because reality check: he’s the only one with arrows and the target is wide open. Was he joking or stupid or was she just not as obvious as she previously thought?

"Okay, okay, next one," Quackity laughed. "If cats were political leaders, everyone’s favorite president would be: Patches, okay," he paused as Dream cheered loudly, "and Bingus."

"Corpse isn't even here! Wrong audience!" Karl said.

"Bingus is for all audiences," Y/n mumbled, making Naomi laugh.

"Uh-oh, another faceless man stealing Bugsy's heart—?" Sapnap joked, immediately cut off by Dream's stern, "no."

"Naomi, you put Patches?" Wilbur laughed as the votes went towards the girl on Y/n's left. "Okay, she does know more than we thought."

"Oh, I know everything," she said evilly, double-meaning evident in her voice. Y/n gave her a look and Naomi just smiled innocently.

The pandering got so intense that Y/n almost cried tears of joy when the first Quiplash game was over and the no-pandering rule got put back into play.

"What, you don't like your name being every other answer?" Wilbur joked and Y/n shook her head.

"No. But certain ones were okay..."

"Yeah, the Bugity ones," Quackity joked.

Dream hummed out a soft, "Okay, Quackity," and the next game began.

The games went on as usual and Y/n had a blast. It was so fun to see her best friend interact with all her online friends for the first time and it warmed her heart how inclusive they were, making sure Naomi wasn't left out of jokes. It helped that Naomi's sense of humor was similar and that she already knew a lot about the streamers, but Y/n was still grateful for all the efforts put forth by her friends.

It also helped that George and Naomi clearly liked each other.

"Is anyone going to stream?" Quackity asked as he started wrapping up.

"I will if no one else is," Punz said. "I'm going to play Valorant."

"Oh, can I play?" Sapnap asked.

"Yeah, definitely, dude."

"Okay, I'll raid you." Quackity muted after thanking everyone for playing and Y/n left the call.

"Dude, that was SO FUN!" Naomi stood up and yelled. She sat down on the end of Y/n's bed, hands balled up in excitement.

Karl laughed as he fell on top of the bed next to where Naomi sat. "I'm so glad you guys all got along!"

"Yeah, I almost started crying when everyone was laughing at your jokes," Y/n laughed, swiveling in her chair to look at them. "That made me so happy."

"Oh my gosh, thank you so much for letting me play. I had so much fun. And they're all so nice and funny and I was worried they'd make me feel left out but they didn't at all."

"I'm so glad you had fun," Y/n said. "We'll invite you again if you want."

"Please do. Only if everyone's okay with it though!"

"I'm sure they would be."

“The lake is going to be so fun,” she sighed whimsically. 

“Because George?” Karl teased, causing Naomi to punch his arm. 

A Discord notification sounded on Y/n's computer and she turned to look at the screen, smiling when she saw Dream's name.

Dream: You left the vc so quick :( Bugsy: I have two goons to hang out with :( Dream: :(((( Dream: I wanna be the only goon you hang out with Dream: I was right, I don't have a chance with you Dream: Karl is the only focus of Bugs attention Bugsy: ?? Bugsy: lies detected Dream: wait really Bugsy: ... Bugsy: do I need to remind you of the tweet I posted earlier Dream: bug don't say things like that to me Bugsy: why not Dream: can you kick Karl back to his house so we can ft or call :( Bugsy: no <3 Bugsy: we can tomorrow after Karl leaves Dream: promise? Dream: don't get my hopes up bug Bugsy: yeah I promise :) Dream: :D

"Pay attention to me!" Karl whined. Y/n turned back around and saw that Naomi had left the room and Karl was laying upside down, close to falling off the bed with his head dangling dangerously close to the ground.

She laughed and typed one last message to Dream.

Bugsy: bye bye dream :) Dream: goodnight bug :] sleep well

"Okay," she huffed jokingly, turning back to Karl. "You have my full, undivided attention."

_____

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Don’t Go - [Reid x Reader]

masterlist

Summary: After being tortured by Tobias Hankel, Dr. Spencer Reid is struggling and everyone can see it. Reader can’t bear his pain and tries to comfort him...only to be heartbroken when he says their night meant nothing.  

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 10.6k

Genre: Angst. Angst. Angst. But fluff at the end cause I’m not a monster. 

Content Warning: Talk of drug use, language, penetrative sex, oral sex (female receiving), and just angst. All the angst. Get tissue. 

A/n: This is set over the arc of episodes  2x16 - 2x18. A special thank you to @imjusthereformggcontent and @catsadams for reading through the beginning of this in its first form. You’re both angels.  I hope this is everything y’all wanted it to be, my doves. Thank you for sticking with me. 

Request prompt: Can you write a fic where Spencer is high on dilaudid and tells you that your night together was nothing and that you're nothing to him. Then the next day he can't rember telling you and and he can't figure out why you are avoiding him.

-- Don’t Go -- 

The first indication I got that today wasn’t going to be normal came when Special Agent Grant Anderson shuffled into my office just after 9:30 am. He didn’t knock before he entered and then shut the door quickly behind him.

I glanced up from the paperwork in front of me, my eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Something on your mind, Special Agent?” I teased.

Ever since Anderson made a mistake that led to SSA Elle Greenaway being shot a few months ago, a lot of people on this floor had been giving him the cold shoulder, despite the fact that Greenaway had forgiven him before she left the BAU.

When I first joined the bureau and was assigned to this unit, Anderson had been my first friend. He was there for me when I felt nervous and like I was a complete imposter. He’s the reason I was still a member of this team; I’d never turn my back on him.

“Something’s up with Reid.”

I propped both of my elbows on the desk, my chin resting on my folded hands. “Well, he was just abducted and tortured. That’s gonna have an effect on someone.”

Anderson was already shaking his head before I got done speaking. “This is different. I just tried to talk to him while he was getting some coffee. I asked him about David Tennant taking over as The Doctor and he…he snapped at me, y/l/n.”

Okay, that’s odd. “Maybe he just didn’t feel like talking,” I defended. “He was tortured, Grant.”

“I’ve known him since I started here. He’s…something is wrong.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. “It can’t be anything too bad. I mean, he’s surrounded by profilers. His mentor is Jason Gideon for god’s sake. If something was wrong, they’d know.”

Anderson walked forward and braced his palms on my desk, his eyes boring into mine.

“Dr. Spencer Reid is also one of the best profilers in the world. I’m telling you, y/n, something is wrong.”

I conceded with a sigh. “What do we do?”

“I think you should talk to him.”

My spine stiffened. “Me? Why?” But I knew why.

Anderson scoffed. “You know how he looks at you. And I know how you look at him.”

Dr. Spencer Reid’s nervousness around me could have been blamed on many things, Anderson insisted it meant he liked me. I wasn’t convinced…because I saw how he looked at JJ.

How I looked at Reid was obvious. He was the most brilliant man I had ever met, he was kind, sweet, and his eyes sparkled when he talked about something he loved. My heart fluttered when he realized he was rambling and he blushed, and my day was made whenever he would seek me out to talk to me.

I had a crush on Spencer Reid.

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll talk to him.”

He shot me a relieved smile and backed away from the desk. “Sooner than later, please.”

Such a sassy bitch, I thought as he shut the door.

--

It was well after 6 pm when I gathered my things to leave the office that day. I had been hired as one of the many, many agents that worked under JJ. Media liaison wasn't her only role; she also fielded hundreds of requests for FBI assistance every week. It was my job to go through those requests, make initial judgments, and then send out responses.

I had always been happier working behind the scenes, so a job filled with paperwork suited me just fine. All I wanted to do was help catch bad guys, and with the BAU I felt like I was making a difference.

Speaking to Reid had been on my mind all day, but I had expected that I'd have the night to think up a plan of attack then talk to him first thing in the morning, but when I walked past the bullpen I saw him at his desk.

The entire floor appeared to be empty apart from him. His shoulders were hunched, his head resting in his hands.

I was opening the doors before I realized what was happening. I had crossed the distance until I was standing in front of him before I even knew what I was going to say.

“Reid,” I said softly. I almost touched him, but I didn’t think he’d like that. He didn’t seem to like to be touched.

His head snapped up; the circles under his eyes were darker than normal, his hair was messier than usual, and his clothing was in disarray. He cleared his throat, his tongue running over his dry lips.

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to.

"I can't imagine what you're going through," I began, standing at the end of his desk. "I don't even know how to begin to think about it. So, I won't ask you to talk about it. I won't ask you to talk at all. I just…I just want you to know that I'm here if you just want a friend. If you want to grab some coffee and talk about nothing…whatever."

Those warm brown eyes were duller than I’d ever seen them, but they ran over my entire body quizzically, like he wasn’t sure I was even there.

After a beat, I decided it was best to leave him to it. I couldn't force him to accept my offer…not that I would force him even if I could. "Goodnight, Reid."

I turned and made my way back to the double glass doors of the bullpen. I hadn’t heard him move, so I was completely thrown off guard when his hand wrapped around my wrist. My eyes looked up to meet his, confusion plain on my face.

His eyes weren't dull anymore, they were shimmering but not in any way I ever wanted to see. He swiped at his cheek angrily when the first tear fell. "Don't go," he rasped.

I won’t.  

--

We didn’t speak as we took the elevator down to the lobby. It was only when we reached the front doors of the building that I spoke. “Where do you want to go?”

He scratched at his forearm, his eyes moving over the room behind us like he was expecting someone to run out from any direction. I wasn't a profiler, but I recognized hypervigilance when I saw it.

“I don’t know. Not here.”

I nodded. “Alright. Do you want to go…get food? Coffee?” He shook his head, his hands now picking at the threads of the cardigan he wore. “We could go for a walk?”

“I…” He cleared his throat, his eyes rising to meet mine. “I don’t want to be around a lot of people right now.”

“Okay, we can-“

“But,” he interrupted. “I…I’m afraid to be alone, y/n. I’m…I’m so fucking afraid.”

I reached for him only to still my hand at the last second, millimeters away from touching him. “I won’t leave you alone, Reid.” My teeth dug into my lower lip as I thought. “We could go to your apartment. Or mine.” I quickly added when I saw how his eyes widened at the mention of his place.

“I…I don’t want to go home.” He licked his lips again, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Then you don’t have to go home right now. We’ll go to my place. We can order dinner, watch a movie, or we can do nothing. It’s up to you.”

The look of relief on his face, combined with the smile he sent me warmed up a part of my heart I didn’t even know was cold.

--

The ride to my apartment was mostly silent; I had turned the radio on for background noise. Spencer’s eyes kept staring out of my passenger side window while his hands twisted in his lap.

He followed behind me quietly when we entered my building, then took the elevator up to my apartment. Spencer’s eyes glided over my apartment, taking in the photos of my friends and family on the walls, the throw pillows on my couch, and the titles on my bookshelf.

I went into the kitchen to get us both a bottle of water only to find him standing in the same spot when I returned.

“Are you hungry?”

He shook his head.

“Okay, do you want to sit down?”

He nodded, following me over to my couch. I curled my feet up under myself, my hands folded in my lap. “Spencer…I know I said you don’t have to talk, and you don’t. But…I want to help. I just…I want to do anything I can to help you.” I let out a breath, embarrassed that my voice was already thick with tears. “If that means sitting here beside you and just staring at the wall that’s fine. I…I just want to help.”

Reid’s head swiveled over to face me, those beautiful brown eyes were frightened. “Tobias…he…he hurt me. And I can still feel it,” he whispered, his voice raw even in that hushed volume. “It’s all I feel. I just…I don’t want to hurt anymore, y/n. I can’t stand it.”

I couldn’t stop myself from rising up on my knees and moving towards him. “Can I hug you? Is that okay?”

The words weren’t out of my mouth before he wrapped his arms around my middle, laying his head against my chest. When the first sob wracked through his body, I felt something inside of me crack. The second sob triggered my own.

I didn't know what had happened to him, and if I did know, I don't think I would ever truly understand. But the agony he was in affected me more than any pain I had ever felt myself.

My fingers ran through his hair, tugging at the soft tangles. His hair is curly, I thought absentmindedly. He always wore it slicked down…but it was curly.

Spencer finally quieted after a few moments, his sobs turning into sniffles. “Thank you.”

I gave a broken chuckle. “Don’t thank me for caring about you, Spencer.”

He pulled his head back to look at me, his eyes moving over my cheeks. “You cried for me.”

I nodded.

“Why?”

The question was so unexpected that I wasn’t prepared to do anything but tell the truth. “It hurts me to see you hurt.”

Spencer looked at me for a moment longer, absorbing my words before his palm came up and cupped my jaw, his thumb wiping my left-over tears away. He gentled pulled my head down until my lips pressed against his. Our first kiss was tender, his lips were slightly chapped but still unbelievably soft. Something about this kiss broke my heart more than his tears did.

My hands had come up to cup his face, my actions a mirror of his own. “I…I don’t want to take advantage of you, Spencer,” I mumbled out when we had pulled apart.

He chuckled softly. “You’re worried about that?” His mood became somber when I nodded. “Y/n…you know how I look at you. Everyone does. I don’t…I don’t want this if you don’t. I don’t want you to do this out of pity-“

“Spencer,” I gasped. “I would never…I’d never touch you out of pity. I-I want to touch you. I have for a long time.”

you. I have for a long time.”

Tears started to shine in his eyes again at my words. “Then please touch me, y/n. I don’t want to feel this pain anymore. I just…I just want to feel how I feel when you hold me. It-It doesn’t hurt when you touch me.”

Our lips came together the second time in understanding and hope. My mouth brushed against his with a promise that I was touching him because I wanted to. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, his teeth nibbling on it while his hands wove into my hair.

I moved to straddle his lap, my knees on either side of him, while my hands started working on the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer’s tongue ghosted against my lips; the groan he gave when I immediately let him inside made my core throb.

He froze when I started to push his shirt off his shoulders. “What is it?”

“It’s…I don’t want you to see…what he did to me. Please?”

I moved off of him quickly, extending my hand to pull him from the couch. I led him down the hall to my bedroom, not turning on the overhead light when we entered; the only source of light was a sliver of moonlight through the curtains.

“You don’t have to show me anything you don’t want to,” I whispered. “Do you…”

His lips crushed against mine, his hands grabbing my hips to pull me against his body. Those long fingers started working my shirt up my body, breaking away momentarily to pull it over my head.

Once my pants were down my thighs, he pushed me back onto the bed. He had removed his cardigan but left his button-up shirt on. I reached behind myself to unhook my bra, feeling a sudden nervousness rise up in my chest.

His fingers were warm when they brushed over my collarbones, drifting down over my breasts. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

I pulled him on top of me when I leaned back on the bed, our lips meeting in a heated frenzy. He palmed my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple, causing me to arch up against him.

Spencer’s lips moved down until he was mouthing my neck, his teeth nipping at the skin, all the while his hand ghosted down my body until his fingers hooked on the top of my panties.

His head lifted, his eyes searching mine. “Can I touch you?”

I nodded, my hand moving atop his, guiding him inside my panties; I couldn’t control my gasp when his fingers parted my folds to brush against me.

My hands went to his belt. “I-is this okay?”

He nodded, his mouth coming down to cover the tip of my breast, his tongue teasing my nipple to a point. Those long fingers gathered wetness from my opening to bring it up to circle my clit. Ever the scientist, Spencer paid attention to every reaction I had, he wanted to learn how to touch me.

When his middle and ring finger entered me, his palm grinding against my clit, I finally got his pants open. My hand snacked inside to palm his cock, pulling a grown from him.

“Can I push these down a bit?”

“Please,” he breathed, his lips coming over mine.

His pants were down to his mid-thighs before I wrapped my hand around him. He was bigger than I expected, not overly thick, but longer than anyone I had been with before.

“Y/n,” he whimpered against my lips, his fingers speeding up inside of me.

I gave a few pumps, my movements uncoordinated. “I want to feel you inside me, Spence. Please?”

Reid groaned, removing his fingers from my heat. “Do you have a condom?”

I turned to my bedside table, fumbling in the darkness. When I turned back to face him, I saw two of his fingers in his mouth. The same two fingers that had just been inside of me.

“Jesus,” I breathed out, finding the sight of him sucking my arousal off his fingers incredibly erotic.

He took the condom from me, his lips quirking up in a smile. "I've…I've never done that before." His eyes moved down to my still covered pussy. "I want to…but I-I don't want this time to be worse for you than it has to be," he said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"Hey," I muttered, my hands cupping that well-defined jaw. "This isn't going to be bad for me, Spencer. Just being with you is wonderful."

My words felt heavy in the air. Because they were true.

Spencer swallowed thickly, rolling the condom down over his length. I tugged my panties off, leaving me totally bare to him, while he still had most of his clothing on.

Even with that weird detail, this was still wonderful; being with Spencer like this was…everything.

I gripped him, lining him up at my entrance. His forehead dropped against mine when he started to push inside of me.

“Spence,” I breathed, my hands clutching at his hips.

“Are you okay?” he panted.

“Better than okay. You feel so good.”

He huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think anything could feel better than…fuck.” His slim hips pressed against mine when he was fully sheathed inside of me.

I felt my pussy flutter at his words. I’d never heard Spencer curse like that before.

We started a steady pace; his thrusts were even, and my hips rose to meet them. His arms were braced on either side of my head, his lips brushing against mine while he fucked me.

Calling it fucking seemed wrong. It was so much more.

“Y/n,” he groaned. “I’m close.”

My hand squeezed down between our bodies to rub my clit. “Hold on. I’m almost there.” I whined out.

His moan seemed to tingle across my skin when he dropped his head against my shoulder. “I want to feel you cum, baby.”

I whimpered at his words. “Spencer, harder. I need it harder.”

His hips snapped against mine as he slammed into me, I felt his teeth on the tender skin where my neck and shoulder met for a second before he bit down.

The mix of pain with pleasure sent me over the edge. My pussy clamped down on him as I found my own orgasm, pulling him over the edge with me.

My fingers ran over his back, scratching at the material of his shirt. I breathed his name out over and over while I floated back down from my high.

I felt his tongue soothe over the bite mark he had just given me as he gave a few more jerks inside of me before pulling out. He placed the sweetest kiss against my lips and when he pulled back, his eyes were shining, but not with tears this time.

--

After we cleaned up, we ordered take out and watched some sci-fi movie that was on cable. I couldn’t tell you a thing about it; I was too busy watching Spencer’s face when he told me all about it. I was enraptured by his voice, the way his hands moved.

He was so beautiful.

Before I was ready, I realized that it was already approaching midnight. “It’s late,” I said.

He nodded. “I should go.”

It was childish, but I couldn’t stop my lip from jutting out in a pout, causing him to laugh.

“What is it, beautiful?” he questioned, his voice teasing.

I shoved his shoulder. “Don’t ‘beautiful’ me, Spencer Reid,” I scolded, delighted when he laughed. “I just…I’m not ready for you to go.”

Something in Spencer’s eyes changed. He seemed almost relieved at my words. “I’m not ready to go either.”

I leaned over, placing a soft kiss in the center of his lips. “Then don’t go.”

--

Spending the night with Spence was worth how early I had to wake up the following morning to drive him by his apartment before work. I had offered to wait and give him a ride to work, but he had gotten a text from Garcia. They had gotten called to Houston for a case; Morgan was going to swing by and get him.

“I’ll call you when I can,” he promised, cupping my face when he kissed me goodbye.

The circles under his eyes this morning weren’t as dark as they had been before.

--

I could barely contain my excitement when we got the notification that the team was headed back. Part of me felt silly for being so excited. I mean, it was just one night; but it hadn’t felt like just one night.

Spencer hadn’t called me during the few days he’d been in Texas, but I hadn’t really expected him to. If anyone understood his job, it was someone who worked with his team. The BAU was such an elite unit within the FBI for a reason; they would stop at nothing to solve a case.

When the glass doors of the bullpen opened and I saw Hotch stride in, heading for his office, I couldn’t contain my smile.

“I saw that,” Anderson muttered.

I reached out and smack his arm. “You wanted me to talk to Reid.”

He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “And judging by that mark on your neck you did more than talk.”

I scowled at him. “See if I’m on your side the next time you fuck up,” I teased, knowing he wouldn’t take my words to heart.

He just offered me a wide smile. That’s how Anderson had lasted so long here, he never really held onto anything.

“Your man doesn’t look so good,” he said suddenly.

I turned, my eyes seeking out Spencer. He was right, the dark circles were back under his eyes, his clothes were wrinkled, his hair sticking up in every direction.

He never turned his head in my direction.

--

I had wanted to give Spencer some space when he first arrived back. What if something about this case had affected him? I thought that maybe that was the reason he had been avoiding me.

My department always had more paperwork than usual when the team came back from a case, so I wasn’t able to leave until after 7. While I gathered up my things I debated about calling Reid, thinking he was already gone. When I went to take Hotch some files about 20 minutes earlier Spencer was rushing out of the bullpen with his bag clutched in his hands.

Even though I wasn’t expecting to see him, I couldn’t stop myself from looking in the glass doors when I passed by out of habit.

He was sitting at his desk. His head was tilted back, and it looked like his eyes were closed. Even in a position that most people would appear relaxed in, he still seemed incredibly tense.  

I can just pop in and tell him hi, I reasoned. Let him know I’m not expecting anything, but I’m here for him.

I had given a lot of thought to my relationship with Spencer over the days he was gone. He was still healing from what happened with Tobias, it wasn’t fair of me to put unreasonable expectations on him right now. I was his friend before anything else. I could put my personal feelings aside if I needed to.

Squaring my shoulders, I pushed the doors open and headed towards his desk. The only person still at their desk was the newest member of the team, SSA Prentiss.

“Hey, y/n,” she greeted.

I had intended to return her greeting, but Spencer’s eyes snapped open and zeroed in on me. The look in his eyes made my blood freeze in my veins. He looked at me like he’d never seen me before, like my presence in this space was annoying to him.

Reid stood abruptly, pulling the strap of his messenger back up on his shoulder before he brushed past me. I had barely processed his actions before he was already leaving the bullpen.

“Spence!” I called. “Hang on!”

He just kept walking. I all but sprinted in my attempt to catch up to him. “Spencer, what the fuck,” I whispered. I knew he had seen me. Once I was closer to him, I reached out and gripped his elbow in an attempt to get his attention.

His entire body jerked as he spun around to face me. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he hissed, venom dripping from his words.

My body recoiled from him like he’d slapped me. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I thought…I just…”

Just then a pair of agents walked past us and they did not bother hiding the curiosity in their eyes.

Spencer’s hand shot out and gripped my forearm, pulling me along behind him. The hold he had on my arm was almost painful, but I couldn’t focus on anything. My brain was still playing his words over and over again.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

He didn’t stop until we reached the copy room; he jerked the door open and shoved me inside.

“Spencer!” I yanked my arm out of his grip, rubbing the skin with my other hand. “What the fuck is going on?!”

“You thought what?” he snarled taking a step closer to me. “You thought that because I fucked you that means you’re my girlfriend now or something?”

My eyes widened at his words. Something cold and heavy settled in the pit of my stomach while some unnamable feeling made me throat constrict. “N-no, I didn’t think that. I just-“

I had heard Spencer’s laugh so many times before, it used to make me smile every time I heard it. People who hadn’t heard him laugh before might have thought the sound that he made when he heard my words was a laugh. But it wasn’t. It was harsh and brittle. His face was pulled into a smile that was condescending.

“Are you sure, y/l/n? Because you’ve sure been fucking acting like it all day. I feel your pathetic little looks everywhere I turn. Like I kicked your dog or something.”

I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes because…this wasn’t Spencer. This wasn’t my Spencer. My Spencer couldn’t use chopsticks and held my face when he kissed me.

“Oh, my fucking god,” he groaned in disgust. “Are you going to cry, y/n? Are you kidding me right now?”

People always say terrible things happen so fast, it’s what I read in witness statements all the time. This was a terrible thing, but time seemed to slow down for it. I saw everything in perfect detail, I heard every single syllable that came out of this mouth.

When the first tear slid down my cheek that dark, brittle laugh left his mouth again. “If you weren’t being so pathetic, I might feel bad for you.”

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, wiping at my cheeks.

“Why am I doing what, y/n?” His voice was so much louder than it was before. It didn’t make sense that he brought me to a more private place to avoid attention but now he was…yelling at me. “We fucked, do you get that? That is all! I don’t know what sad little schoolgirl fantasy you built up in your mind, but that night wasn’t special to me.”

Oh. I swallowed down my emotion, my eyes moving away from him to stare down at the floor. I wished I was the sort of person that could lash out whenever I was hurt, to hurt that person back as badly as they hurt me; but it’s just not who I was.

Like a shark that smelled blood in the water, Spencer moved closer to me. His fingers brushed over the strands of hair that hung near my shoulder. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, y/n. You’re not special. You were just a desperate girl that wanted attention. You were a pussy to use.”

I jerked back violently at his words, putting as much distance as I could between us. My entire body felt so cold, my face frozen in a mask of confusion.

Reid scoffed once more before he turned and left the room.

He never looked back at me.

I’m not sure how long I stayed in the copy room after he’d left. It may have been seconds; it could have been hours. I think I was in some sort of shock; my body just autopiloted to a place I felt safe.

I don’t remember unlocking my office door. I don’t remember collapsing in my chair and burying my head in my hands while sobs tore out of my chest.

All I remember is hearing my name a moment before I felt someone standing beside me.

“Hey,” a familiar voice called softly. “What’s wrong, y/n?”

I lifted my head and looked into the worried face of one of my best friends.

Anderson didn’t say anything further, he just pulled me up from my chair and wrapped his arms around me while I cried.

--

Pain is a universal experience, but everyone feels it differently. Everyone heals differently.

My grandmother used to say, “Everything will be different in the morning.” I was never sure if that was true or not, but today I chose to believe it was. The pain and humiliation that burned in my gut when I remembered Spencer’s words yesterday wouldn’t last forever.

I had made a mistake. I had let someone use my body only to find out that person wasn’t who I thought they were. I wasn’t the first person to make that mistake, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be the last.

Anderson had stayed with me in my office last night while I pulled myself together enough to go home. He didn’t ask what had happened, but he wasn’t stupid, I’m sure he suspected what had broken my heart.

In a perfect world, I would have fallen for someone like Grant Anderson. He was kind, funny, and a constant source of comfort when I felt my world breaking apart.

I had always tried to think of each painful moment as a lesson in some way, and lessons can teach you both good and bad things. Even my worst moments of pain, I couldn’t regret the choices that lead me to them. Every single experience shapes us into who we grow to be.

One day, when this pain in my heart wasn't so sharp, I think I might be able to look back on my night with Spencer Reid without feeling regret. He had been my friend, he was hurting. How I tried to help his suffering was a mark of who I was.

How he caused me pain was a mark of who he was.

Grant had sent me a text around 6 am, asking me if I was going to take some personal time. The BAU wasn't assigned to an active case today, but I had sent some files over to JJ that looked promising. My money was they'd be headed out to New Orleans tomorrow to catch a serial killer once she had reviewed those files.

A very large part of myself wanted to stay home; I wanted to hide from my pain and tend to my wounded heart in private. But no matter how big that part of me was, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t let this pain consume me.

I wouldn’t let it.

With that thought in mind, I squared my shoulders and walked into the headquarters of the FBI.

--

The hardest moments after a tragedy are the moments after; after the first wave of pain has passed and you’re expected to go back to your normal life. The world never slowed down just because you were in agony.

JJ came by and told me she thought New Orleans looked promising and asked if I could contact the lead detective for any updates then forward those to her.

She wasn’t a profiler but even she knew something was wrong. Right before she walked out of my office she said, “Hey, are you okay?”

It's always so much worse when they ask you if you're okay because they never want an honest answer. So, on top of all the agony, you feel you have to pull off a convincing lie.

“Just tired, JJ.”

I don’t think she quite believed me, but she was kind enough not to push me any further.

A few hours later JJ was on the phone the detective heading up the investigation into the murders happening in the French Quarter. It looked like the team was heading out to New Orleans sometime tomorrow morning.

My job mostly had me working with JJ, but SSA Hotchner was the unit chief. It wasn’t uncommon that I had to get his signature of approval on something JJ needed. So, when it was time to stop by Hotch’s office, I made my way there with no outward reluctance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Spencer standing around the cluster of desks that housed his teammates. They all called out in greeting after I dropped the files off, but I had only waved over my shoulder and rushed out of the room.

Anderson had been popping in and out of my office all morning. First, he had made excuses for coming by, but much to my amusement he had dropped the façade after he came to ask me if he could borrow a pen…while he was holding a pen.

The biggest dilemma of my day was over coffee. Of course, I hadn’t gotten any sleep last night and I was dragging. Caffeine was obviously the answer.

But if you knew Spencer Reid, you know he was always at the coffee machine in the BAU bullpen.

I could just go downstairs to counterterrorism, I thought idly. But if I’m already in the elevator I could just run down the block and get coffee. JJ wouldn’t mind.

I was still debating my options when I heard a tentative knock on my door.

I am not proud of my actions, I’m truly not. But there is only one person in this whole building who would knock on a door that hesitantly.

The blinds in my office were closed…but I had left the door unlocked.

On instinct, I slid out of my chair, knees hitting the floor, and hid under my desk.

What the fuck are you doing, y/n? I mentally scolded myself. This is a new low, even for you.

It turned out to be pointless anyway.

He didn’t open the door.

--

“You don’t have to tell me,” Anderson began. “But…”

“I have to tell you?” I supplied after a beat.

He flopped down in the chair on the other side of my desk. “Exactly.”

The small smile that curled up on my face was the first real smile I’d had in almost 24 hours.

How had it only been 24 hours?

“Listen,” he said, bringing my attention back to him. “I know it’s about Reid. I’m not a profiler, but it’s all that makes sense.”

“How’s that?”

One of his dark brown eyebrows raised at the question. “I mean, even if we ignored everything else, the fact that he keeps walking past your office door is a dead giveaway.”

I rubbed my temples with my fingers. “Grant, I can’t right now.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t,” I whispered out. “I don’t…I need to hold it together. Just for a while longer.”

Grant reclined his back against the chair, his eyes surveying me. “Fine. But I don’t like seeing you like this.”

I don’t like feeling like this.

“Alright,” he sighed, rising to his feet. “I have to go run some sort of errand for Garcia.”

I didn’t bother asking, he’d say it was “classified.”

All the air seemed to leave the room when he opened the door.

Spencer was standing on the other side, his hand up like he had been about to knock.

Grant’s entire body jerked while Spencer’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?” my friend demanded.

The most startling thing was how surprised Spencer looked at Grant’s tone; like it was some oddity that one of my closest friends would have been angry on my behalf.

“C-can I talk to you?” he asked, his voice squeaking on the last word.

I licked my lips, weighing my options. How could he hurt me any worse? I gave Grant a nod, signaling that I was okay. He moved out of the way, granting Spencer entry, but I knew my friend; he wouldn’t be far.

The man in front of me waited until the door was shut before he spoke. “Did I do something?”

My eyes had dropped down to my hands only to shoot up to his face at those words. What?

“To make you upset?” he clarified. “I…you’ve been avoiding me all day. And I know you were in here earlier when I knocked.”

His words tore at the bandages I had wrapped my heart in, ripping my wound open again. All I could do was wrap my arms around my middle in an attempt to physically hold myself together. “W-why would I want to talk to you?”

If possible, he looked even more confused than I felt. “What is going on?” He took a step towards me. “Baby-“

My reaction to hearing that word come out of his mouth was visceral. I shot to my feet, almost stumbling over my chair in an attempt to put more distance between us.

Spencer froze. “I…I don’t understand,” he pleaded. “Please, y/n, you have to talk to me. It…it hurts me to see you hurt.”

Any work I had done to repair my heart was destroyed at his words. I never should have let him inside. The look on his face twisted a knife in my stomach. He had the audacity to look distraught over my tears like he wasn’t the cause of them.

“I know I said I’d call but I was just so busy with the case…I thought…you’d understand.”

I ran my tongue over my teeth while my eyes blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear the tears that were clouding my vision. If I couldn’t remember everything about yesterday so clearly, I would doubt that the man standing before me now was the same monster that spewed venom at me yesterday.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Reid.”

He flinched at my use of his last name. “I want you to tell me what happened.”

“Why?” I rasped out. “Do you want it to hurt more? Why are you doing this to me?”

Spencer took another step towards me, his hands were outstretched. "I don't-"

"Don't fucking touch me." I tried to fill my words with the same venom his words had yesterday when he told me the same thing, but my words came out as a broken plea.

He blinked and dropped his hands to his sides. “I deserve to know why you’re treating me like this.”

A sad sort of laugh came out of my mouth at his words.

Somehow the non-acknowledgment of my pain hurt worse than anything. “Do I mean so little to you that you forgot our conversation yesterday?”

Spencer shook his head, his hair flopping around his ears. “No, I didn’t talk to you yesterday.”

What? “Yes, you did.” My voice shook but my words still tumbled out of my mouth. “You pulled me into the copy room and told me…you told me that our night together was nothing…you told me that I was nothing.”

His brows knit together, his mouth popping open. “What are you talking about? You’re…you’re everything, y/n.”

“Reid, please…I know I’m pathetic, but I can’t take this. I can’t…” My shoulders started to shake. “Please don’t make me feel this again.”

“Pathetic?” he questioned. “What are you talking about? Is this…is this some sort of game? You don’t want to be with me…so you do this? Did Anderson tell you about my mom?”

“What?”

“My mom has schizophrenia. Is that why you’re trying to make me feel crazy?”

My brows knitted together. “I…Nobody told me about your mom. I’m not trying to make you feel crazy. And I wanted to be with you. But you told me you didn’t want to be with me.”

He still denied my words. “No, I haven’t talked to you. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“You avoided me all day yesterday. When I finally came to talk to you in the bullpen you walked past me like I wasn't there. Then I went after you." I held up my arm, pushing my sleeve up to show him the finger-shaped bruises. "You dragged me into the copy room. You told me I was pathetic. You mocked me. You told me I was just some girl…some pussy for you to use."

He kept flinching at my words like they were whips leaving lashes all over his body.

“You told me I was nothing. You told me our night together was nothing.”

“No.” He continued to shake his head. “I…I wouldn’t say that. But I especially wouldn’t say that to you. You’re wrong.”

I just shrugged. “Ask Prentiss. She saw me follow you out of the bullpen yesterday. Ask Garcia to pull the security footage. There’s probably a recording of you breaking my heart.”

“No, no, no,” he muttered over and over again.

“I don’t know why you’re pretending you don’t remember, Spencer.”

He didn’t say anything else; he just turned and left my office, slamming the door behind him.

--

JJ was suspicious when I called her from my office phone instead of just walking over to see her, but she didn’t ask any questions about the mysterious illness I told her had hit me. She just told me that she hoped I felt better and to take all the time I needed.

I knew that the team was set to fly out after JJ presented the case at 10 am in the morning, meaning that going back to work tomorrow wouldn’t be too hard. No matter how badly I hurt now, I couldn’t lay down and cry about it.

Part of me was afraid if I laid down, I wouldn’t be able to get back up.

With that in mind, I would give myself today to feel the full force of my heartbreak. I would cry when I wanted to, I’d watch sad movies and make myself cry more, I’d eat junk food that ultimately only made me feel worse. I would feel this pain for one day.

I told myself Spencer Reid didn’t deserve more of my tears than that. I told myself that over and over again until I almost believed it.

Anderson had been texting me all day to check-in, I had even gotten a nice call from Penelope Garcia asking me if I needed anything.

The most unexpected call came at 8 pm that night from a number I didn’t recognize.

“Y/n?” the voice asked. “This is Prentiss.”

Oh. “Oh. Hi, Emily.”

“Listen, I called for two reasons. The first is that I wanted to check in on you, and the second is…the second is a bit more personal.”

Oh. I cleared my throat. “I’m as good as I can be, Emily.”

She sighed. "I figured. Which brings me to my second question. Did something happen between you and Reid?" After a few moments of my silence, Prentiss hurried on. "You don't have to tell me. It's just that…Reid came up to me this afternoon and demanded to know if I had seen you come into the bullpen to talk to him yesterday."

“What did you say?”

“Um, I told him yes. Because I did. What is going on?”

My fingers picked at the edges of the blanket in my lap. “I don’t know. Anderson thinks something is up with him.”

“We all think something is up with him.”

Her confirmation didn’t make me feel any better.

--

I arrived to work the following morning at 9 am, a full thirty minutes later than usual. JJ had stopped by my office to see how I was doing, followed by a visit from Prentiss. Garcia had teetered into the room about 15 minutes after Emily left, giving me a frosted cookie that was bigger than my hand.

“Cookies help,” she had said confidently.  

I hoped she was right.

Anderson popped in last. "Hey, ooh." He skidded to a stop. "You look terrible."

I shot him a withering look. “Thank you so much, Grant.”

“You know what I mean.”

“…That I look terrible?”

He nodded, his lips twitching at the corners. “Anyway, Hotch needs the mileage forms for the SUVs. I can run it over to him.”

My teasing tone vanished. “I’ve got it, Grant.”

I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I had to believe it was. Or at the very least it would be soon.

It took every ounce of will power I had not to let my eyes wander over to his desk when I entered the bullpen. I could almost feel him looking at me. It went against every natural instinct I had to ignore him…but what else could I do?

Hotch wasn’t in his office when I knocked but the door was unlocked. He never minded if we walked in when he was out if we just had something to drop off. I tried to find an open space on his desk to set the forms when I heard the door squeak on its hinges behind me.

I spun around, my startled eyes connecting with a pair of sharp brown eyes.

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Agent Gideon. I didn’t see you there.”

He gave me a small smile, but that sharp look didn’t leave his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose you would have,” he said simply. “It’s hard to notice anyone else when you’re trying so hard to not notice someone.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Gideon just nodded. “I’m going to tell you something. Now, you can take these words to heart, and I hope you do, or you can take them as the ramblings of…a sentimental old man.”

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “Okay.”

"A lot of people think that the most important thing you can have in a relationship is love," he began, his eyes never wavering from mine. "In my not so humble opinion, they are incorrect. You see, y/l/n, love fades. Love isn't a thing that can stay in one form forever. It's always changing… its fluid."

“Sir, I don’t-“

“You know what the most important thing is?” he asked as if I hadn’t spoken. “Mercy.”

I just blinked at him. “I…I don’t think I understand.”

He just smiled at me, his hands moving into the pockets of his jeans. “Maybe not yet, but I think you will.” Gideon’s gaze broke from mine, looking through the windows of Hotch’s office to settle on Reid. His head was bent over his desk while his fingers ran over the pages in front of him. “He’ll need mercy, y/n. More than anything else.”

Agent Gideon turned back to look at me. “He’ll need it from all of us, but I don’t think he’ll need it from anyone more than you.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say in response. I truly didn’t understand what he was talking about.

With one final smile, he turned and left the office, leaving me with my thoughts.

--

Agent Gideon’s words were still swirling through my mind the following afternoon when I got another odd call from Agent Prentiss.

“Hey, y/l/n,” she began, her tone annoyed. “Listen, have you heard from Reid?”

My entire body stilled. “No, I haven’t. Why?”

“He was supposed to meet us at the plane. Morgan and I are waiting for him but he isn’t answering his cell.”

I hated the worry that wormed its way through my heart at her words. “I’m sorry, Em. I haven’t talked to him.”

She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “It was a long shot. Thanks, y/n.”

For several minutes after she hung up, I just stared at my phone. Don’t, I told myself firmly. He’s not your problem.

Spencer Reid wasn't my problem…but I couldn't just stop caring about him overnight. That's not the sort of person I was.

I kept telling myself I was calling to check on him for me, because I was the sort of person who checked on their friends.

It didn’t make it easier when he didn’t answer my calls either.

--

The need to silence the shrill ringing of my phone pulled me from my sleep the following night. I still hadn't heard from Spencer, but Prentiss had called me this morning to tell me Reid had gone to see one of his friends and "didn't have a signal." Her tone indicated she thought he was full of shit.

My eyes cracked open to look at the caller ID. When I read the name of the person calling me, my fingers frantically pushed “accept.”

“Spencer?” I asked, my voice still thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.”

I sat up in my bed, my eyes looking at the clock on my nightstand. “It’s after 3 am. Did something happen with the case?”

He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. The unsub is a woman. We tried to catch her tonight…but we can try again tomorrow.”

“You’ll get her.”

The only sound I heard was his uneven breathing. “That’s not why I called.”

My tongue ran over my lips while I pulled the blankets further up my chest like they would be able to protect me in some way. "Why did you call?"

“Do you think people deserve forgiveness?”

“I…I think it depends.”

“On what?” he asked desperately.

“On what they did…on if they’re sorry.” I cleared my throat. “Did you do something, Spencer?”

“I made a mistake.”

Somehow, I knew he wasn’t just talking about what had happened between us. He sounded just like I remembered him sounding when I wrapped my arms around him that night he came to my house.

His voice broke when he spoke again. “I’m so lost, y/n,” he sobbed. “I’m so lost and I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”

I fought to control my own emotions when he spoke. No matter what happened my heart still ached at the pain in his voice. “You might be lost, Spencer. But you’re not alone. Your team…your family found you. They brought you home. They’re still here for you. They’ll bring you home again.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, both of us lost in our own dark sea of pain.

“I don’t deserve to ask you to forgive me,” he said at last. “So, I won’t ask. I don’t even…I don’t even remember what I said.”

I think my subconscious mind had been connecting these pieces together for a while because in the darkness of my bedroom at almost 4 am, things finally began to take shape. The darkness that hung over Spencer was finally starting to take form.

“Just focus on the case, Spencer. We can talk when you get home.”

“Wait,” he called out. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

I don’t think I ever will.

--

The clock on my wall said it was just after 7 pm the following night when there was a knock on my door. Frowning, I made my way across the room, pressing my eye to the peephole, slightly surprised at who I saw.

I had figured he would come for me at some point, but I hadn’t expected it to be the very moment he got back into town.

…but it isn’t the very moment, I reminded myself. JJ had texted saying their plane was landing at 5 pm this afternoon.

He didn’t knock again but he didn’t move away from the door either. I think he knew I was there, just out of his reach, debating my options.

Opening yourself up to something that might hurt you is one of the most foolish and brave things a person can do. When someone you cared about broke your trust, how could you put your heart back into those very same hands?

I remembered Gideon’s words from that afternoon before they had left for New Orleans.

Over the past several days I had realized that that day in the copy room it wasn’t actually my Spencer that said those things. Something dark and painful had clawed its way into him and was trying to hollow him out.

That dark thing didn’t deserve my mercy…but I think Spencer did.

With a deep breath, I started to unlock my front door, grateful he couldn’t see that my hands were shaking. He looked tired but a different sort of tired than I was used to seeing. Weariness had crawled underneath his skin and was draining him slowly, but he didn’t look as defeated as he did the last time I saw him.

No matter how many times I had thought about this moment, I still wasn’t sure what to say

“I came…I came to explain.” He said at last.

I was still frozen in place watching him shift uncomfortably. I knew he wanted me to invite him in…but, how could I? Trusting him enough to talk to him was one thing but how could I allow him into the only place I felt safe?

Gideon’s words played through my mind again. Mercy.

Taking a step back from the door, I waved him inside. I moved to sit on the couch, but Spencer just stood in front of me.

"When Tobias abducted me…" he trailed off, balling his hands into fists. "He had dissociative identity disorder. It's much more rare than people think. Whenever it's been observed under clinical settings, the most that has been observed is 2. Tobias had three.

The first was him, the next was his father, and the last was the Archangel, Raphael. Tobias’s father abused him horribly… Charles broke something inside of him, he fractured him. The only way he could survive was to start abusing drugs. He took them intravenously.”

Gideon's words had started to weave the pieces together, but it was actually Spencer's words from our night together that cemented everything in place. “I don’t want you to see what he did to me.”

"He thought he was being kind when he injected me." Spencer crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his tongue against his upper lip. "You hear about addiction; I could tell you the statistics on people who suffer from opioid addiction. But I never in a million years thought it would be me.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until a tear fell from my face and hit the back of my hand.

“I’m not the person who gets addicted to things. I’m not the stereotypical picture of an addict…but that’s what I am, y/n. I’m an addict.” He reached into his front pocket, pulling out a small coin. “This is a newcomer’s chip…from narcotics anonymous. You get it at your very first meeting. I got this an hour ago.”

“Spencer,” I rasped out. “I’m so sorry.”

He came to sit beside me on the couch then, his hand covering one of mine. "I thought I could handle it. I convinced myself it wasn't that bad, but it was. What I did to you was reprehensible, y/n. And I am so sorry." Spencer's voice broke, his shoulders shaking with repressed emotion. "I will be sorry about that day for the rest of my life. I don't deserve any sort of second chance."

I turned completely towards him, throwing my arms around him. “Yes, you do, Spencer,” I whispered into his hair. “You do.”

This night felt so much different than the first night I held him like this while he cried. I didn't know the cause of his pain that night, but it broke my heart nevertheless; now that I knew the pain inside this beautiful man…I think the pain I had been feeling was tearing at my soul.

Addiction doesn’t discriminate. It’s a disease that will sink its hooks into anyone and refuse to let go. Spencer had made a mistake; his actions had gutted me. But…was it really him? Or was it the monster that has hold of him? It was in these thoughts that I finally began to understand the weight of Agent Gideon's words. "He’ll need mercy from everyone…but from no one more than you.”

I wasn’t in love with Spencer…at least not yet, but I did love him. In those moments when loving someone felt impossible mercy was the most important thing you could offer. I had to show him my mercy while he moved through this…because I knew love would come later.

“I’m here for you, Spencer. I want to help you in any way I can.”

He pulled back, his wide brown eyes meeting mine. “I can’t ask you to battle my addiction for me, y/n. I wouldn’t even if I could.” His voice was earnest when he spoke, his hands coming up to cup my face with a touch that seemed so familiar. “I promise that I’m going to try. I’m going to mess up at some point, some moments will be harder than others. I can’t…I can’t be perfect at this. But I promise I will never stop trying.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Spencer. You’re not worthy because you’re perfect. You’re worthy because you’re…you.”

His eyes were soft when they ran over my face, his hands coming up to cup my jaw again. “I can leave, if you want…I know you’ll need time…I can’t expect-“

I leaned forward to brush my lips against his. “Don’t go,” I whispered. “Just be with me. Be here with me, Spence.”

I'm not sure who moved first. It was like all the pain in my body gave way to such a burning need that it almost consumed me. Our lips barely broke apart when I pulled him from the couch, guiding him to my bedroom; our actions were so similar to what they had been on that first night that felt like a lifetime ago.

But everything was different.

My bedroom was lit only by the dusky orange glow from the setting sun. I didn’t get to question Spencer about anything. His hands moved urgently against my body, ridding me of my shirt and bra. I unbuttoned his shirt, careful not to push it off of his shoulders. My nails scored his chest while his mouth moved down to kiss the column of my throat.

Spencer’s knee was wedged between my thighs when his mouth closed over my nipple. My hands tried to move down to undo his pants but when his teeth tugged at the tip of my breast all I could do was whimper.

“Spencer. Please.”

His eyes opened and lifted to meet mine. He looked nervous for a moment before he started to kiss down my body. I lifted my hips to help him remove my pants. When his fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties, I realized he had never seen me in the light before.

I felt his index finger trace down my slit, spreading me open under his gaze. He swallowed thickly when one of his fingers entered me, pulling a moan from my throat.

“Can I?”

“Yes. Yes.” I wasn’t sure what he was asking, but I would have given him anything in that moment.

I wasn’t ready when I felt his tongue tentatively lick my pussy. My hips bucked off the bed causing him to chuckle.

“Hold still,” he whispered as he spread me wider. He inserted another finger into my heat while his tongue fluttered around my clit.

“I’m trying,” I whined. “Fuck. I thought you said you hadn’t done this before.”

Spencer lifted his head to press a kiss to my inner thigh. “I haven’t,” he replied, his voice needlessly smug. Before I could comment his lips closed around my clit again.

My fingers were tangled in his soft brown hair while my hips rocked against his mouth. “Spencer, I’m close. I want-fuck! I want to cum when you’re inside me.”

He rose up on his knees, his hands moving to his belt. He had looked reluctant to leave his current position, but I needed him now. "You can eat my pussy to your heart's content later."

Spencer’s hand froze, his eyes snapping up to meet mine.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. You just…you said later.” The confusion must have been plain on my face because he clarified, “I can have you later too.”

My arousal was still pulsing in my body but now something else was too. I knew he didn’t mean sex when he said he could have me; Spencer meant he could have me, he could be with me.

With that thought, I urged him up my body so I could press my lips to his again. We were still kissing when I felt the blunt tip of his cock brush against me before he slowly pushed inside of me.

“You…I didn’t know something could feel like this,” he said when his hips settled against mine,

I didn’t either.

I think he must have felt the same frantic need I did. His thrusts were forceful as he drove into me. I was already so close that I could feel myself approaching my peak.

“Spence,” I whimpered out.

“I know, I feel you. You’re right there.” He reached between our bodies and rubbed his thumb across my clit.

My back arched as my orgasm washed over me, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. After a few more thrusts, I felt Spencer find his release too. He whispered my name against my hair while he slowly came down, pressing soft kisses all over any part of my skin he could reach.

--

The frantic mood from before had lifted, but something still felt urgent. Spencer had gotten up a few moments ago to dispose of the condom in the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

He hadn’t removed his clothes again, and something about the energy in the room made me put my clothes back on too.

I was sitting at the end of my bed when he came out of the bathroom a few moments later. He looked resigned and…almost defeated.

“Spence,” I started but he just shook his head.

He came to stand in front of me before he spoke. “I have to…I can’t hide from you.”

I stood up before he could move. “You’re not hiding anything, Spencer. Not anymore.”

He pressed his lips against mine again. I think he understood the gravity of my words and what revealing his body meant. He knew I’d see him; I’d see all of him. But whenever I looked into his eyes when he started to open his shirt, I felt like I saw more of him than I ever had.

Everything he felt was floating through his amber-colored eyes. His hands shook and a few tears leaked out of his eyes when he pulled his shirt from his body.

The bend of his left elbow was covered in bruises in all different phases of healing. It looked like one of his veins might even have blown.

When I brought my eyes back up to his, I found them shut tight.

“Hey,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his middle, careful of his arm. “Spencer, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he breathed out.

I only held him tighter. “It will be. One day it will be.” I let out a shaky breath of my own before I spoke again. “You know I’m going to fall in love with you one day, right?”

His body jerked at my words, a tiny sob leaving his mouth.

“It’s true, Spencer. You have to know that. You’re worthy of love. You’re worthy of my love.”

He pulled back from me, his hands cradling my face while his eyes searched mine. “I’m not. I’m not worthy…but I’m going to try to be.”

The slashes and cracks in my heart didn’t feel so painful when I kissed him again. It wasn’t my job to fix him. It wasn’t his job to fix me.

But I could show him mercy while he fought his battle. He deserved that.

Everyone deserves that.

--

Taglist: @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01 @violentvulgarvolatile @mys2425 @al3xmnd @imfalling-inlove @cielo1984 @shadyladyperfection @kissingvalentino @goofygubler14​ @hopebaker​

[akaashigiri]

Sleepy Jaegers

summary: eren and y/n are at a gathering at armin’s place, and their 2 year old is exhausted. eren is equally as exhausted.

pairing: dad!eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 1.69k

warnings: none, fluffff

a/n: sigh my baby fever possessed me to write this 💔 might make armin a father as well if people end up liking this one (i will anyway) 😋

These gatherings were almost like a ritual to the group.

There wasn’t ever a specific place they met, they would always gather in different places, wether it’d be the beach, a park, or at one of their homes. It didn’t matter where it took place, just as long as everyone was there. Everyone was obligated to come.

So of course that includes the littlest Jaeger.

It was mid September, and although the weather wasn’t bad at all, some didn’t really feel like going out to public places like the local park, so the group decided on Armin’s new place, since Sasha and Annie still have yet to see it (their homes are farther from the rest)

They were all gathered in the spacious living room; Jean and Sasha on the long couch, while Mikasa and Armin sat on the smaller one. Historia and Ymir shared the beige-colored chair in the corner of the room, while Annie sat on one of the kitchen stools as she watched Y/N and Connie do the dishes (Armin insisted, but the two almost threatened him if he were to touch a dish).

As soon as Eren walked in, he all but restricted anyone from sitting on the big beige reclining sofa, claiming that he deserved it for helping Armin pick it out. Eren was grateful for going to Ikea that day with Armin to pick out the sofa he was now slouched on, recliner out and all. It was now his favorite spot in the whole house (besides the kitchen, since he loved playing around with the smart refrigerator).

As Y/N passed another dish for Connie to rinse and dry, she suddenly felt a tug on her pants, looking down to meet the tired eyes of her daughter.

She was quick to rinse and dry her hands to pick her up, giving all of her attention to the little girl. “Aw, what’s wrong Mimi? Everything alright?” She asked, already noticing the fatigue on her face.

She only snuggled into her mother’s neck, giving her the simple response of, “Tired.” Her vocabulary was fairly short, due to the fact that she was only 2 and learned her words from the ones around her (Eren got in big trouble the day Y/N heard the word ‘shit’ come out of her daughter’s mouth).

Y/N wasn’t surprised she got tired easily today, since Jean gave her more candy then Y/N would usually allow. And with the way her, Ymir, and Mikasa were running around in the yard earlier today, Y/N already saw this coming.

“You’re tired?” she asked again, earning a nod from the crook of her neck. “Okay, mommy’s almost done. Go sit next to daddy until I finish, okay?” She tells her, moving her head back to face her daughter again. Myra nodded, allowing her mother to put her down.

Walking tiredly, Myra slowly moved through the kitchen and made her way to the living room, spotting her father laidback in the corner of the room, limbs sprawled out on the sofa.

Eren wasn’t sure if it was the father instincts, but he was the first to notice her presence in the room, stopping the ghost story Jean swears is real to bring his full attention to his daughter.

“Mimi’s come to save us, everyone!” Eren exclaims, throwing jazz hands up as everyone joined and cheered her on for simply walking in. Jean didn’t like what Eren was implying, but clapped nonetheless.

“You’re not funny. Aren’t dads supposed to tell good jokes?” He questioned, attempting to steal a fry from Sasha’s plate, but failing miserably as she only swats his hand away.

“No Jean, I think it’s the other way around, they’re supposed to be corny.” Armin butts in, watching with a smile as Myra finally starts walking towards her father.

Eren could already see the fatigue on her face, holding his arms out for her once she got a little closer. “What’s up Mimi, you tired?” Eren questioned, laughing as she instead of answering, simply lifted her arms up for him to take her.

She responds with a nod, her hair falling over her face as she was lifted onto his lap. As soon as she was situated, she wasted no time in making herself comfortable, wiggling out of her dad’s grasp and laying her stomach down on his, her head right above where his heart was.

“Nevermind.” he sighs, making the whole room burst out into laughter. This only made Myra whine, the loudness distrupting her attempt at sleeping. “Sorry Myra!” Sasha whispered, finally giving a fry to Jean afterwards.

“I wonder what got her so tired.” Annie questions, making Jean sink into the couch out of guilt as Eren sends him an irritated glance.

“Jean went and gave her a sugar rush before we got here. It was absolute hell.” Eren’s eyes furrow in frustration as he remembers earlier today and how hard it was for him to catch a nap without his energetic 2 year old jumping all over him. All while Jean was happily eating lunch with his wife.

“Okay, but I didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to have that much candy! Kids eat candy like crazy, right?” He attempts to defend himself, looking around the room for support, only to be met with silence.

“Yeah, thing is she’s not a kid! She’s a toddler! Dumbass.” he mumbles the last part, hoping that Y/N somehow wouldn’t hear. But she always found a way how.

“Can someone please slap Eren for me?” She yells from the kitchen. “Stop cursing in front of Myra!”

Eren has no time to defend himself as volunteers step up to do what their friend asked, but Mikasa was the quickest, and Eren was even quicker. He swiftly grabs Myra’s frog blanket from the bag sat beside him and hids his face in it, saving it from the harsh blow of Mikasa’s hand.

“You’re lucky I didn’t miss completely, I just don’t wanna wake Myra.” she confesses, walking back to her seat.

“God, I cant believe we almost named her after you.” Eren groaned, blanket still clutched in hand.

“Mimi’s close enough for me.” She smiles, noticing the way Myra starts to squirm a bit. “Throw the blanket over her, I think she’s cold.” She suggests, bringing Eren’s attention back to the little girl on his chest.

Eren is quick to unravel the rather big blanket from his grasp and take it in both hands to bring it in the air, watching it fall perfectly onto her small figure. The blanket basically covered his whole torso, the end tickling his neck a bit.

“Thanks again for the blanket, Historia. She loves it so much, a little too much.” he says, feeling his daughter move under the blanket so that her little arms were wrapped around his torso as far as she could go. “She won’t use the one I got her anymore.” he says with a slight frown.

The group laughs again, but quietly this time, not wanting the little girl to possibly wake up in a fit.

“I wouldn’t blame her, to be honest.” Jean shrugs, giving Eren a knowing glance, as well as a sly smirk. He knows how mad Y/N would get if he were to disobey her, especially a few minutes after she scolded him. Since Y/N was only a few feet away, Eren aggresively sticks his middle finger up to the man. It’s not like Myra could see through the blanket anyway.

“Are you gonna finish your ghost story, Jean?” Annie asked, although she didn’t believe a word. She just wants to see him make a fool out of himself.

Jeans eyes light up, snapping his fingers together as he sits upstraight again, ready to go into full detail once again. “Right! Okay, okay, so right when I went to shave my beard...”

Eren let’s Jean’s apparent ghost encounter story fade in the background, focusing on the shallow breaths coming from his daughter. He felt himself getting a little drowsy himself, as if her sleepiness was seeping into him.

He doesn’t waste time lifting the blanket a bit to wrap a protective arm around her small figure under it, adjusting his posture on the sofa and crossing his ankles over one another. His let his neck sink into the back of the couch, letting his head go as well so he facing the ceiling. With the warmth of the blanket and the little girl under it, he couldn’t help but close his drowsy eyes as well, finally giving in.

A few minutes pass and Jean is done telling his story, but of course, no one believes him. All except Historia. “Thank you, Historia! See I’m telling the truth. Morons.” Jean rolls his eyes at the way Armin and Sasha curl up as they laughed, Mikasa and Annie trying their best to hold in theirs.

Jean soon notices the person who would’ve regurlarly had the most to say was being awfully quiet. Getting ready to scold him for not listening, Jean is met with a site he has to admit, is the cutest thing he’s seen all year.

Eren was deep in slumber, soft snores coming from him and the little girl that rested as peacefully as he did on top of him. The print of his arm around her could be seen through the green blanket, as well as both of their steady breaths. They looked so comfortable, it would be a pain for them to get up soon, which they would have to eventually.

“Awww, they’re adorable!!” Historia exclaims from the other side of the room, which seemed to catch Y/N’s attention all the way from the kitchen.

“What’s happening? Is something cute happening? Someone take pictures!” She exclaimed, wanting to abandon the plates and take them herself, but thinks that would be rather rude to leave poor connie alone.

“On it!” Sasha and Jean say in unison. Both are quick to pull out their phones, Jean getting the more unappealing angles, while Sasha actually put some effort into it and snapped a few photos.

These were being sent to every single person on her contact list.

this was written at like 2 am sorry if there are typos i swear i reread 💔

also i’m currently working on a mob fic idk if ppl still like those but i most definitely do so watch out for that one :p

hope y’all liked this one lol

-aysha <3

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Three

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Morgan, various characters in other chapters

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos and implications

Chapter Summary: Reader has dinner with her family and gets grilled even harder than her food. But she’s turned to a light simmer when Bucky takes her out for their first date.

Author’s Note: This chapter is fucking monstrous lol. I did not expect it to be this long so it might be a couple extra days before the next chapter so I can catch up! I’m also not sure if my Italian is accurate so I apologize in advance. I used to work for a man named Gennaro from Naples and he called me “bella” so hopefully I’m sort of right? If you like the story so far, feel free to buy me a coffee!

Part One • Part Two

Tags: @kennedywxlsh

Dinner that night was tense, to say the least. It was nice to have your dad, step-mom, sister, and uncles Happy and Rhodey over again, but your dad wasn’t quick to forget what he saw earlier.

“What was that with Barnes today?” Tony asked as you all sat around the dining room table in your midtown flat, poking away at the remnants of your meals.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

Your dad just gave you an incredulous look. “You know what I mean.”

You sighed and avoided meeting his eyes. “I was just working on his arm, dad. I didn’t wanna make him lie down on a hard lab table while I poked around to do what you wanted and quiet his arm,” you explained.

“Wait, Barnes as in Bucky Barnes?” Uncle Rhodey clarified.

“Yeah,” your dad confirmed, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found her kneeling between his legs while he sat shirtless on the couch.”

“You’re sleeping with Bucky?!” Rhodey asked.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone!” you defended, dropping your fork onto your plate. “I’ve known him for a month.”

“That’s never stopped your father,” Pepper mumbled under her breath, making you huff out a laugh despite your current grilling.

“Listen, when I said ‘no fraternizing with coworkers,’ I meant it,” your dad said.

“Please stop saying ‘fraternizing.’ It’s weird.”

Tony sighed and crossed his arms. “No ‘slumber parties’ with coworkers,” he rephrased.

This made Morgan perk up in her seat, having spent the past couple minutes confusedly watching you and your dad bicker.

“Can we have a slumber party, [Y/N]?” she asked.

“Yes, honey, we can have a slumber party,” you responded.

“Tonight?” she continued.

At this, you pointedly looked at your dad and raised your eyebrows as a way of saying ‘are we done now?’ You could tell he didn’t want to end the conversation, but you were grateful for the sudden change of topic. Tony uncrossed his arms and leaned against the table as he replied to your sister.

“If your big sister says it’s okay, you can have a slumber party tonight.”

Morgan lit up like the Fourth of July, quickly listing off all the movies she wanted to watch even though you knew she’d fall asleep halfway through the first movie.

As your family packed up to leave, leaving Morgan since she had a drawer of clothes for the impromptu sleepovers you’ve had before, you calmed your racing heart before saying the words that would either make your father more suspicious or completely quash his suspicions.

“You’ll have to pick her up by four tomorrow. I have a date.”

All of the adults turned to face you. Pepper had a huge smile on her face, clearly excited for you, but your dad and Rhodey looked ready to fight. Happy looked curious, maybe even worried, but he played a big role in raising you so while Tony was the overprotective parent, Happy was the comforting parent (not that he’d ever let anyone know that).

“A date?” The tone of your dad’s voice made you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m a grown woman. I’m allowed to go on dates.”

Your dad let out a quiet harumph at that, but understood where you were coming from. “I know, sweetheart. Forgive me for being a bit overprotective of my little girl.”

“I get it. I appreciate your concern,” you said with a smile, “but this is good for me. You want grandkids eventually, right?”

“Oh god,” your dad groaned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m not old enough to be a grandpa but I’m old enough to have a heart attack at the mention of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“So what’s this person’s name?” Pepper piped up. You visibly tensed and internally panicked. You couldn’t just admit it was Bucky after denying anything there. But his name was technically pretty common...

“His name is James.”

Rhodey snapped his fingers and pointed at you as he said, “I like him already.”

‘Yeah, sure you do,’ you thought. The sight of your dad narrowing his eyes at you and crossing his arms as he stood in the entryway of your apartment made you nervous. Maybe James wasn’t good enough to get him off your trail (probably because he was right).

“How did you meet this guy?” Tony asked.

If anyone else had asked, you would’ve said ‘work,’ but that’s the last place you could say to your dad — with whom you worked.

“Uhh, at the grocery store. We accidentally followed each other and got a lot of the same food so he jokingly accused me of stalking him and we just hit it off,” you rattled off. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how your friend Monique met her girlfriend or he’d know you were lying.

“That’s so cute,” Pepper cooed. She was definitely the more relaxed of your parents, possibly because she wasn’t your biological mom. She had been raising you since you were ten though, so she played a big part in your upbringing.

“Text me his last name so I can run a background check,” your dad said. You’d love to think he was joking, but you knew he was serious.

And as much as you knew you’d regret it, you had to make a joke…

“His last name is Barnes,” you said, keeping your face as serious as possible. “James Barnes. I actually know his middle name too: Buchanan.”

“[Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N], you better be joking right now,” Tony said. He was already getting red in the face, clearly unenthused at the prospect of you dating the man who, admittedly, killed his parents — your grandparents. Yeah, understandable.

“I’m obviously kidding,” you said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just funny that they have the same first name and you’re so anti-Bucky.”

“You’re gonna send me to an early grave,” he muttered. “I’m going home before I actually have a heart attack.”

You said your goodbyes and ‘I love you’s before you and Morgan put on your pajamas and set up a pillow fort in the middle of your living room to watch her favorite sleepover movie: “Shrek.”

As the movie went on, you leaned back in the fort to take a photo of Morgan with the movie in the background. Well, the back of Morgan’s head as she was engrossed in the movie she’d seen a million times.

[Image attached] She’s got her teddy bear but where’s my Bucky Bear? 🥺

Across the city, Bucky’s phone buzzed from its spot on the kitchen counter as he made himself a late dinner. He didn’t recognize the number, but smiled when he saw the picture of who he assumed was your sister or niece.

I never got an invite. Looks like more fun than my night.

You smiled to yourself when you saw his reply, rolling your eyes at the lack of exclamation points and emojis. Typical man.

What does your night look like?

Eating a late dinner and talking to you.

Talking to me isn’t fun?! I’m hurt 😢

Not as fun as actually being with you.

Even though he wasn’t there and didn’t say it verbally, you could feel your cheeks get hot at his words.

There’s no way sweet talk like that didn’t get you in more than four beds.

You’re still on that? I swear doll, I have the same number as you.

Whatever you say! 🙄

There was a lull in conversation after that, giving you time to move your sister to lie on her back with pillows and blankets in the fort so she could sleep more comfortably.

Are we still going out tomorrow?

You let the next Shrek movie start automatically, but you didn’t pay any attention as you texted Bucky.

I’m still down if you are 👀

You sent him your address and let him know you’d wait on the front steps for him so he didn’t have to come all the way up. With the exchange of ‘good night’ messages, you drifted asleep to the sounds of Shrek 2.

•

The next morning, you somehow managed to wake up before your sister, then brought her back to the land of the living with the smell of French toast.

You spent your day watching another movie with Morgan before fixing lunch and taking her to a park down the road. Morgan’s childhood was definitely different from yours. Happy was the one who took you to parks and shopping, but Tony parented at home. Morgan would have the same early experiences, but the world knew Tony and Pepper had a daughter. They kept her identity hidden for now, waiting until she could decide if she wanted to reveal herself later in life. The world never knew about you.

And you had to be somewhat grateful for that. You still got all the perks of being a Stark — the money, the Tower, meeting the Avengers (and having James Rhodes as your godfather) — without the stress of fame. But part of you still wished you could talk about your father without keeping his occupation vague and referring to him as “Anthony” when telling stories instead of Tony.

Morgan also got to know her mom. You only spent the first seven years of your life with your mom before she was killed in a drive-by shooting. The police investigated it like crazy because everyone thought since it was Tony Stark’s wife, it had to be a targeted hit. But since she never took the same jogging route twice, all they came up with was an unplanned drive-by. You cherished the memories you had with her, but still openly welcomed Pepper when she came into the picture. She may not have played the same type of role in your life, but she helped shape your middle and high school years.

By the time you and Morgan got back to your place, she was exhausted, climbing back into the still-intact blanket fort to take a nap. When your dad and Pepper stopped by to pick her up, she was still knocked out.

“We’ll get out of your hair so you can get ready for your date,” your dad said with Morgan in his arms. “Send me this James guy’s last name. I still want to run a background check.”

“Dad,” you grumbled. “I already did my research. He’s clear.” Kind of. He technically has murdered hundreds of people, including your grandparents, but he’s reformed and fighting for the good guys now. Not that your dad would let it slide if you told him that.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “Let me know if you need to hide any bodies, okay?”

“You got it,” you said with a laugh as they headed out. You had two hours to get ready for Bucky, giving you plenty of time to look extra cute.

By the time six rolled around, you were all dolled up and ready to go. The autumn weather had you in a jacket and boots, but that just pulled your outfit together.

Your doorman Matt was standing inside the lobby when you ran downstairs, tossing him a small wave as you left.

“Have a good night, Miss [Y/L/N],” he said with a nod.

“See you later, Matt!”

You stood at the bottom of your building’s front steps, checking your phone and looking up and down the block for Bucky. It was six on the dot, so you figured he’d be there soon.

“Hey!” You looked up from your phone to see Bucky jogging toward you, a black leather jacket covering his arms and a black glove hiding his left hand. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get away from Sam. Had to tell him I was gonna check out my old stomping grounds in Brooklyn.”

“You’re, like, 30 seconds late. I’m just glad you’re here,” you said with a smile. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Bucky’s smile faltered as he looked down at you. Your boots gave you a bit of a height bump, but Bucky still stood taller than you.

“I, uh, I kinda thought you had something planned,” he said softly.

“Oh, oops,” you laughed. “Well… what about those Brooklyn stomping grounds of yours? Care to show me around?”

Bucky lit up at the recommendation and started leading the way to the nearest subway stop. Before you started down the stairs, he paused and turned to you with a sour expression.

“I probably should’ve asked if you’d rather get a cab,” he said.

“Bucky, I take the subway to work every day. It’s fine.”

“Why do you take the train? You don’t live too far away.” You two made your way down the steps to the bustling station.

“It’s just easier. Less work for me,” you explained. “I didn’t take the train much as a kid so I like taking the opportunity now that I can.”

“Most people don’t willingly take the subway,” he laughed. “Steve and I always used to talk about how we’d be rich enough to have a car someday. But now that I could get any car I wanted, I don’t think I want one. I like the subway.”

“Even though it’s smelly and dirty?” you joked.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “It’s one of the things that still reminds me of home.”

The gentleness in his voice nearly brought you to tears. This man had been through so much and was still the sweetest soul you’d ever met. Forced into a war he didn’t want to join, experimented on, tortured and brainwashed, hunted by every government in the world, captured, frozen, and forced into another war and more battles he shouldn’t have to join. He just couldn’t catch a break.

“Well I’m excited to see what else reminds you of home,” you replied.

The trains to and through Brooklyn were relatively busy so you and Bucky couldn’t really talk much, but it was a Saturday night so you couldn’t blame people for getting out. It was tough to find seats, but Bucky was willing to stand to make sure you could have a seat. Ever the gentleman.

When you made it to Bucky’s Brooklyn stop of choice, he started telling you more stories from the ‘40s, like when Steve couldn’t get off the train in time and accidentally went down another stop so Bucky ran to the next stop and found Steve heading his way anyway. And how he and Steve followed his sister Rebecca on a date “to watch out for her,” he said, and her date thought they were stalking her and tried to beat them up. And all the fights he pulled Steve out of.

“Punk was a chihuahua who thought he was a Rottweiler.”

For a while, you two walked around the streets of Brooklyn just telling each other stories. You were careful about names you used, often just calling Happy “Uncle Harry” and Rhodey “Uncle James.”

Bucky showed you the movie theater he and Steve used to go to, which was surprisingly still in business. You walked past what used to be a diner Bucky frequented but was converted into a bridal shop.

“This used to be a magic store Steve loved,” he said, looking up at the bank on the corner of the street. “Things have changed a lot.”

You heard the nostalgia in his voice, clearly missing the New York he grew up to love. He had a soft smile on his lips as he reminisced, though.

“What about where you lived?” you asked. “Do you remember where that is?”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “I could never forget that.”

Everything was within a fifteen minute walk of where you got off the subway so even though your feet were getting tired, you followed alongside Bucky as he led the way up and down the streets. Before too long, you strode up to a large brick building that had clearly been remodeled recently, if the fresh windows and front doors were any indication.

“It’s… a lot nicer than when I lived here,” Bucky said with a sigh. “But it’s been nearly 100 years so I can’t blame them for updating things.”

“Brooklyn is kind of booming now, too,” you added. “More people to appeal to, ya know?”

You stared up at him again, seeing that same lost look as before, like he wished to turn back time and show you the Brooklyn he knew. So you decided since he couldn’t do that, you’d show him the Brooklyn you knew.

“Come here. My turn to show you around,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He gave you a small smile before grabbing your hand in his and letting you pull him back to the subway.

Ten minutes later, you hopped off the train with Bucky in tow and headed to the little Italian restaurant you found while exploring the city a couple years before. It wasn’t anything elaborate; it was honestly more of a little hole-in-the-wall, but you liked the quiet atmosphere.

“Bella!” the owner shouted as you walked in.

“Hey Genny,” you smiled at him.

“Who’s this?” he asked as he approached you, raising his eyebrows when he saw Bucky.

“This is James,” you said. You opted against using his more common nickname to avoid any recognition.

“James, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Gennaro, but you can call me Genny. Welcome to my restaurant.” The two men shook hands before Genny ushered you two to a table and handed you menus. “Would you like to start with focaccia?”

“Yes please!”

“Con formaggi?”

“Si! Grazie!”

Gennaro left you and Bucky while he started your appetizer.

“You speak Italian?” Bucky asked.

“Definitely not,” you laughed. “I’ve just been coming here for a while and have picked up on some things Genny says. Like ‘bella’ means ‘beautiful,’ this pizza,” you pointed to your favorite pizza on the menu, “‘cinque formaggi’ means ‘five cheese.’ But I could never hold a conversation.”

“Un peccato,” Bucky sighed before flashing a smile at you.

“You speak Italian?!” you nearly shrieked. “No way! Don’t talk shit with Gennaro behind my back.” You pouted at Bucky, but knew he wouldn’t say anything bad about you. Maybe an embarrassing moment or two — like your dad walking in on you between his knees — but nothing negative.

“I picked it up pretty quickly back in the day,” Bucky explained. “Before I was sent to Germany, I was stationed in a small town in Italy for a while. The locals didn’t mind having us there because we kept the Nazis out, so they taught us some Italian when we were in town.”

“Maybe I should take Gennaro up on his offer to learn Italian,” you mused.

“Or you could learn from me,” Bucky was quick to offer. “I’ll teach you some stuff when you’re working on my arm.”

Your server arrived with the focaccia and water for both of you, before giving you more time to actually look at the menus instead of talking. You decided to split a bottle of red wine and two pizzas, one of your choice and one of Bucky’s. As the night went on, you and Bucky both opened up to each other even more than before. You could easily blame the buzz from a couple glasses of wine, but Bucky’s super soldier serum made you confused. His cheeks were flushed and he had more than half the bottle, so you wondered if maybe...

“Can you still get drunk?”

“Unlike Steve, yes. It takes more than this,” he said, lifting the nearly empty bottle of wine, “but since Steve and I received different serums, they work a little differently. I can definitely get drunk. Marijuana admittedly hits harder.”

You paused as you stared back at him, his elbows perched on the table and his clasped hands propped under his chin.

“Are you drunk now?”

“No,” he laughed quietly. “A little tipsy, sure, but not drunk by a long shot.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, reluctantly accepting that he was just as buzzed as you but not quite drunk.

Before long, your server brought over your tab and you realized how empty the restaurant had gotten. Then you noticed the broom and mop the server had brought out to the floor, then the dark ‘open’ sign, and finally the clock on the wall.

“You closed 20 minutes ago and didn’t kick us out?” you shouted at Gennaro. “Genny, you can always kick me out! I feel bad!”

Gennaro walked over to your table as you scrambled for your wallet and handed the server your card to run.

“I can’t kick you out, bella. You and your moroso are welcome any time.”

“I think this poor girl would beg to differ,” you said as the server handed your card and signature slip back. She just laughed at your comment, agreeing without saying it outright.

You left a hefty tip and hugged Genny before you and Bucky, both still a bit tipsy, shuffled outside.

“Thanks for buying dinner,” Bucky said. “This means I get to pay next time, though.”

He said it so casually and you already planned on another date, but it still kind of caught you off guard.

“Next time?” You smiled up at him and took a step closer until you were almost toe-to-toe. “There’s gonna be a ‘next time’?”

“I sure hope there is,” he said quietly, his smirk sending a rush up your spine.

“If you insist,” you sighed. He knew better than to believe you weren’t excited for your future plans. “I’m cold. Care to get an Uber with me?”

He gently grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, pulling the loose opening of his jacket over your arms and wrapping his arms around you to help keep you warm.

“Well, yeah. I need to make sure you get home safe so ‘next time’ can happen,” Bucky said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“You know, I don’t usually let men spoon me on the first date,” you joked as you tapped away to order an Uber.

“I can stop, if you want,” he teased.

You gripped his arm as he started to pull away. “I never said that.”

Bucky rode back to your place with you, keeping conversation casual as you both avoided the controversy you were about to face: to kiss on the first date or not. You never really had any issues with it before, but you already really liked Bucky. You didn’t want to risk messing it up by moving too fast. But what grown man would think a kiss on a first date was too fast? Well… maybe one born in the early 1900s…

Before your thoughts could throw you into a downward spiral, the driver pulled up outside your apartment complex. Bucky stepped out first and held the door open for you to scoot out after him. As you stood at the bottom of the stairs to your building, you felt those nerves creeping up on you again. God, you hadn’t felt this nervous about a date since high school.

“I had fun tonight,” Bucky said first, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Me too,” you smiled back. “I’m excited for what you plan for next time.”

Bucky laughed at this, the crinkle of his nose making your own smile grow. God, you wanted to invite him inside already. In your defense, you’ve known him for a full month and spent even longer getting heart-eyes over him in college.

But you reined in your hormones and just took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest. His right hand came up to rest on your waist, but he kept the metal hand in his pocket. With your hand placement, you could feel the thrum of his heartbeat and judging by the pace, you knew you were both on the same page. As you were trying to shove your nerves aside, Bucky asked the one question you were hoping for.

“Can I kiss you?”

Knowing he wanted this as much as you did relieved some of your nerves, but also made the moment that much more real. You smiled up at him and nodded your head.

“Yes, please do.”

You perched up on your toes to meet him halfway, letting his lips mold to yours. His hold on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer; you gripped the lapel of his jacket in your fists. Suddenly the cold of the night no longer existed. All you could feel was the warmth radiating off of him as he held you close. He pulled back for a second before diving right back in, this time nipping at your bottom lip. You giggled against him, but didn’t stop him from taking the innocent kiss a step further. Your hands slid from his chest to the nape of his neck before tangling into his long hair. The vibration from his moan as you tugged on his hair ran straight down your spine, making it even harder to leave the date alone.

Reluctantly, you both pulled apart just enough for your noses to brush against each other, the stubble of his beard still tickling your nose. You opened your eyes enough to see the smile on his lips as he pulled back a bit more to see your face.

“I’ll see you Monday?” you said quietly, as if speaking any louder would break you two out of your bubble.

“See you Monday, [Y/N],” Bucky replied just as quietly. His hand slipped from your waist as you backed away, biting your lip at him before you turned and scurried up the steps. Bucky stood on the sidewalk until he could see the light in your apartment flick on, just to make sure you were safe.

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 31

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L  Warnings: Language, smoking weed, shitty parenting, mentions of death A/N: more of a filler but it helps establish stuff. *unbeta'd

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 31: Drowning on Dry Land

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━���━━━━━

The week before her flight back, Matthew’s parents invited her over for dinner.

Waiting to greet them at the door was Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin. Matthew’s father, a Half-Maj, was a Potioneer while his mother, an Old-Maj, was a Court Scribe. They wore large, kind smiles as Mrs. Gaplin pulled her into a tight, crushing hug.

After pleasantries, she and Matthew kicked off their shoes while his parents ushered them to the dining room.

“How are you darling? '' Mrs. Gaplin asked, floating plates in their direction as everyone began helping themselves to food. “Matt wouldn’t stop talking about you since we knew y’were coming.”

She side-eyed Matthew who groaned loudly. “Did not!”

“Sure thing,” she added, which caused Matthew to slump in his chair as his parents laughed at him.

It was a nice, charming evening; filled with laughter and heartfelt conversations. His parents continued to gloat about Mathew’s achievements that he hadn’t told her. It caused him to almost get up and run out of the room from embarrassment before moving to boast about Y/N. Even Mr. Gaplin asked her regarding her OWLs which pleasantly surprised her.

A few times, Mr. Gaplin pressed a few cheeky kisses to his wife’s face as Matthew made loud retching noises.

“Disgusting!”

Mr. Gaplin laughed. “Ya sixteen. Suck it up.”

“But you’re still my baby!” Mrs. Gaplin cooed, getting up to collect the plates.

Matthew tried to look insulted but she could see the small smile that threatened his lips as jealousy nipped at her toes.

The next few days were spent staying at the Gaplin household. Matthew’s parents insisted constantly that she should stay over so they could utilize the little time they had left before leaving. At first, the idea made her feel intrusive. Although, her mother hadn’t returned to the brownstone house, preferring to sleep in the on-call rooms at the Brooklyn Memorial Hospital. It quickly got lonely and boring before Y/N finally agreed. Besides, Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin were only around for breakfast and dinner - working for the day but never failed to return; always wearing larger smiles than the previous night.

They made her feel welcomed and warm - even taking her and Matthew to the local pictures. They included her in everything, even their trivia and board games after dinner.

It was quite the change compared to her family life.

Then an identical routine ensued. She would wake up, get ready for the day; spend hours with Matthew; then twilight fell as they stayed awake into the early hours of the morning.

The day before she was due to leave, she and Matthew ran up to his room after dinner. He went to lean on top of the small coffee table, rolling up a joint as she collected her possessions scattered around his room; not wanting to leave it for the last minute.

“Fancy some grass?” He asked in a poor British accent.

“Nah,” she shook her head, “But thanks love.”

Mathew’s smile turned bashful as he stood, turning on the radio in the background. She moved to open his window which was just above the roof of his shed as she stepped out with steady feet. Perching herself down on the blankets and pillows they hauled outside the night prior, she stared at the glowing city splayed in front. From the window, The Velvet Underground flowed softly.

Matthew proceeded to hop out, sauntering over as he threw a flirtatious wink.

“Brough this,” he said, tossing the camera he’d taken from her bag. She caught it as he nestled beside her and lit the joint; placed in his mouth. Billows of smoke clouded around them while she snapped a few photos of the view.

“Ya sure you gotta leave?” Matthew whined, embers of the end of the joint sparking with another huff. “Maybe you can smuggle me. Shove me into that trunk.”

She pulled the camera away from her face, inhaling the earthy, pungent scent. Her head felt a bit lightheaded from it. “A hardcore criminal at sixteen?”

Matthew was mildly amused until a troublesome look passed through his features. “Um — name something ya miss most about home.”

Home. What a funny word — place — feeling. Home was supposed to be something that made your heart glow, feel warm and happy — by that definition, a year ago home would’ve been her little house back in Toronto with the beautiful maple trees swaying in the backyard. Or home would’ve been Ilvermorny and its tall ivory walls. But now, London, or maybe just Hogwarts, had become her home. The scrolls around the Herbology greenhouse, the library, sneaking around past curfew; the Black Lake, Hogsmeade — Lily, James, Marlene, Dorcas, Remus, Regulus…

Unsure of what to say, she opted for, “You?”

Matthew rolled his eyes, bringing the joint to his lips. “Real charmer.” Then, smoke surrounded them. “But really.”

“Why?”

“C’mon! I need an answer! — I don’t know… say somethin’ like… lobstah.”

She chuckled. “Lobster? Really?”

“Or coffee from ya regular cafe.”

Deliberating it for a second, lips tugged up. “Coffee Crisp.”

He snorted. “A candy bar? Really?”

“Or Ketchup chips. Haven’t seen them in London yet.”

“That’s fucking disgusting.”

And then the silence returns but it makes Matthew shuffle in his spot. He blurted out, “Go — more brit insight.”

Y/N felt a bit hazy from the secondhand smoke. “More? You’ll get bored.”

“I won’t,” Matthew replied quickly, sounding oddly sincere. “Please, just… go on. Tell me everything.”

“Um… a friend of mine says crikey a lot. I think it just means to be mildly surprised? — They don’t say bloody or blimey as much as you’d think… Oh! Tea — they really drink that much tea. Also —”

Continuing, Matthew shut off again, going completely silent — not once speaking up or adding funny commentary; only staring at her, simply watching.

“Okay,” she turned to take the joint from his hand, “You're freaking me out. Spill, what's up?”

“S’nuthing.”

Whack!

“Jeez! Would ya stop wiv that! Gonna kill me…”

“Spill.”

“Fine! It’s just that…'' Matthew shifted, obscuring his face. Maybe if she didn’t feel so fuzzy, or if there wasn’t the smoke coming from the blunt or her small headache forming, she would’ve picked up on all the little signs. “It’s just —” he sighed, “I wanna hear ya talk — commit it to memory.”

“Obsessed with me? Not new.”

But that seemed to trouble him more. “It’s just… I don’t know if or when I’ll hear it again…” He looks up to the city in front. “Ya my… best friend. Could never forget ‘bout ya, but s’hard — keepin’ in touch.”

She pats him, encouraging and smiling. Her voice was hopeful, so much so that it made Matthew’s lip quirk up. “We’ll find each other. Always.” She said simply. “You and me, we’re like… salt and pepper. Soap and water — Hansel and Gretel!”

“Fuckin’ Dr. Seuss,” he smiled, that worried look fading away.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

The warm summer breeze flowed around them, just as the sun peeked above the airport. Expanse, clear skies with blue mingled with deep purples and pinks shimmered against the metal from the building.

“Gonna miss ya,” Matthew muttered into the crown of her head. Her mother didn’t want him to come, but Y/N simply ignored that request as he came to send her off.

“Don’t get mushy on me now,” she joked but felt her throat become tight.

“Betta get goin’ — Doc’s lookin’ like she’s ‘bout to butcher me if ya don’t.”

She snickered, pushing Matthew’s shoulder as she picked up her bags, walking backwards while waving. “Write me!”

“Course I will! Until next time!”

“Till next time!”

Once the plane took off, awkwardness swelled among the two women. Not once had her mother said anything to her — not to apologize or see how she was doing — although they never really did talk much. Honestly, she half-expected her to leave her in New York with the Gaplins. Easy to dispose of her.

The next few days Y/N, poorly, attempted to fix her sleeping schedule. It was a miracle that she managed to get up before dinner as her head poked into the master bedroom.

She cleared her throat, feeling herself swaying in place. “Um — hi. I’m making dinner tonight.”

Her mother was dressed in a simple, yet sleek dress. She was bent over, putting on high heels as she looked up.

“The hospital is throwing a party for me — the surgery was a success.”

“That’s amazing! Er — will you be back for dinner though? It’s just that I leave soon and... two parties are better than one.”

She considered her for a long time, eyes mostly distracted by her hair slowly changing to a different colour.

“Sure. But I have to go now.”

“Right, sorry, have fun.”

Thudding down the stairs and the door clicking shut, she followed not too long after. Making her way to the kitchen, she picked up a dusty cooking book, blowing off the dust and cracked it open; flicking through the pages.

Deciding on the seemingly easy noodle dish, she rushed out of the house to the local grocery shop for ingredients. It would be the first time they would be spending any time together. It had to be perfect. But she overestimated that no matter how closely she stuck with the dishes’ instructions, the outcome was a disaster.

The noodles somehow were rock hard. The sauce she made looked grey and was chunky, similar to badly mixed concrete and it tasted horrid. At one point, even the stove exploded into flames as she had to grab her wand and use magic to extinguish the fire.

Potions... She could use a cauldron, use multiple ingredients, make some of the most complicated spells and even had tricks of her own to make the process easier but she couldn’t make a simple dish…

Her face screwed together as she glanced up to the clock; she was going to come home soon as the dinner she made was disastrous. She panicked, cleaning up everything in a rush and decided to order food.

Waiting patiently at the dinner table, her eyes fluttered up to the clock in anticipation. She felt giddy, a surge of excitement rattling throughout her bones at the prospect. Her mother wanted to spend time with her! And she should be home any minute.

But then a minute turned to two, then five, ten, twenty, thirty — then an hour ticked by.

And then another.

Y/N got up, her chair squeaking loudly. Losing all her appetite, she went to her room, sleeping in early.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 20th, 1976

Going through the potential NEWT courses she could take was the highlight of her day. The possibilities were endless.

Wanting to take Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfigurations and most of all, Potions, left her excited for the school year.

But the more she thought about the upcoming school year or potential courses, she was left to contemplate what ther5 future entailed.

Was she ready to give up magic? Something that fundamentally altered her life and moulded her into what she was? Magic was her essence, something she developed and nurtured — but to put her life in danger…

Rethinking that word again: home… Was London her home? Was she willing to leave, move again to be safer? But practicing magic around the world these days for New-Majs was dangerous. Or the potential danger she would put her mother in if she continued with it?

But magic… Maybe home wasn’t necessarily a place — but rather something she carried. In all sense, magic made her heart glow, feel warm, safe and happy — it felt like what home was supposed to feel like. And the idea of being ripped away from it, forcing herself to live a normal, Muggle life…

Magic was home.

So die, but have what she cared and loved most was by her side or live a dull life without magic — ensuring her life would be miserable.

There was a clicking of shoes in the hallway that snapped her out of her thoughts. Her mother came walking by.

Lips smushed shut into a tight line, still annoyed from the other night but was determined to spend some time with one another.

“I was planning to go to Diagon Alley for the first time — to get my textbooks... '' She stood awkwardly. “Do you want to come with me?”

“I can’t,” she replied, so quickly that it had Y/N almost scoff in disbelief. “Work. But have fun.”

She sighed but still waved her off and said a small, ‘I love you, stay safe.’ Her mother only gave her a look, something unreadable and left without a word. With a heavy heart, she grabbed her purse filled with gold and left for Diagon Alley.

Passing through the Leaky Cauldron was an adventure in itself. The shabby, tiny pub was jammed with wizards and witches zipping by.

Diagon Alley was bustling with so much magic she could feel it pumping through her blood. Students were hypnotized by the shiny new Firebolt on display; others were giggling, running around with shopping bags while older witches and wizards took a scroll. Her head turned in every direction; walking into the Apothecary, a potions ingredients and book shop.

Emmeline was there. She gave a tight-lipped smile which she returned.

Emmeline by every definition was nice, extremely kind and neither girl ever had a problem with the other. James was the problem and Y/N would gladly stay out of their feud.

Passing clamouring students, she managed to get all her supplies but stopped in front of the potion ingredients. She took a few minutes, flicking through the Advance Potions textbook and grabbed everything listed needed for most of the potions.

She made her way around Diagon Alley, going through many shops. The shelves were stacked high to the ceiling with books and materials. She spent more time than necessary there but it was beautiful.

As she was paying for her Herbology textbook, a large boom! rumbled the ground. Y/N took her bags, ready to sprint to the Leaky Cauldron but the shouts caught everyone’s attention.

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” A crowd of witches and wizards shouted. Their wands were transformed into microphones as a few shot fireballs up in the air.

“What’s happening?” A woman asked an old wizard. He only shook his head, grabbing a copy of the Daily Prophet, handing it to the witch.

On the front page, there were moving photos of people protesting, similar to the wizards and witches currently shouting.

‘Protests Break out in Light of Muggleborns and Halfbloods Burned Alive

Voldemort and his followers have been attacking Muggleborn and ‘blood traitor' families with the usage of fire. By burning them alive, or their houses. They bonded the witch or wizard with magic, making it impossible to apparate or leave their houses. Their broken wands were found at the scene.

Since then, protests all around Britain and Scotland have broken out. The Ministry of Magic —’

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” The crowd chanted.

Rage filled every inch of her body as she stomped out of Diagon Alley.

If she wanted to stay in the magical world, she had to be the greatest at whatever she did, because if she wasn’t, someone of her status was never going to get anywhere.

Magic was home, and she wasn’t going to let them take it from her. She didn’t want to surrender. They weren’t going to take that away from her.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

Immediately after Diagonal Alley, she began working; taking in her thoughts from earlier to heart.

Making sure to cover any windows from prying eyes, Y/N fiddle with first with new charms. Still unassured by her abilities in Charms, she considered taking another class before realizing all the different routes it led to. To become a Healer, Auror or Potioneer, she needed Charms.

Multiple charms backfired, causing them to ricochet off the walls, leaving a dent or chipping the wallpaper.

After trying out more than half the Charms in the book, there was one spell in particular that she attempted to cast many times, but without fail, was never able to properly cast it. Frustrated, her hand made a sharp flick and the spell spurted out instantly.

She tried again with the same hand gesture. To her astonishment, the charm produced easily. Quickly, she jotted down the note in her book.

Next, she glossed over her Transfigurations and Defense Against the Dark Arts book until her eyes caught onto the word: werewolf.

She learned briefly about werewolves, but that was in third year. And now that she knew a werewolf, it would be good to rehash it.

A werewolf, also known as a Lycanthrope, is a non-magical or magical being who transforms under the rising of the full moon. However, non-magical beings have a greater risk of dying rather than turning.

As the name suggests, werewolves are closely related to the non-magical animal, wolves. However, they have distinct characteristics that make them easily identifiable from wolves.

She flipped the page.

Wolfsbane flowers are poisonous to the non-magical world but it has been proven to have no effects on werewolves like they do on wolves. Werewolves are immune from the poison they emit and there are reports that Wolfsbane flowers help alleviate symptoms.

She underlined that section.

It’s a uniquely magical illness known to spread by saliva and blood. Werewolves are dangerous, blood-thirsty beasts — she flipped the page.

They cannot choose to transform and will no longer retain their human mind. Given the opportunity, they would slaughter their loved ones — flipped the page.

A mixture of powdered silver and dittany applied to bites help seal bite wounds. It’s also commonly put in liquid and digested in anticipation of full moons to help with the symptoms of transforming.

Y/N’s face scrunched as she continued to read.

There is no known cure Potion used to help treat lycanthropy.

She felt oddly intrusive knowing parts about Remus’ condition. But then questions arose. How were there no Potions of any kind there to help werewolves during their transformation?

Pushing the thought away, she turned to the cauldron, picking a potion to brew. They all were fairly easy, some she’d even done before just by playing around. But one potion that grabbed her attention was Draught of Living Death. Even at Ilvermorny, that potion was notoriously difficult.

Starting up the cauldron, she grabbed hold of the sopophorous bean. However, it kept jumping when she tried to cut it. She quickly resorted to another method, running down to her kitchen and grabbing the handheld garlic press, placing the bean inside, squishing it down as so much juice spurted out, even going all over her clothing.

The potion turned into the light lilac like suggested. But then as she stirred, her potion quickly became ruined as she restarted immediately.

Hours ticked by; several items in her room were Transfigured into cauldrons, as she poured the existing solution into the nine other cauldrons as she conducted her experiment.

Stirring counterclockwise was a sham, so she stirred clockwise. Nothing, the potion went bad. The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise and then clockwise, alternating between every stir. It showed promising progress before it turned a bright red after the seventh stir, bubbling over.

The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise, then clockwise after the seventh stir as the potion turned a pink pale. That’s what the book said would happen. She quickly cleared the rest of the cauldrons, pouring in the pink liquid just in case.

She continued to stir until it became a clear liquid. Surely, that was good enough but she could never be sure. After all, she didn’t know if this was what it was supposed to look like.

Deeply immersed, she hadn’t realized how late it got.

She laid on her bed, her light on as she read the scribbles on the margins of the books she'd penned. The textbook was outdated and everything she’s written down, there were easier ways to perform spells, create Potions and more. The other books must’ve been outdated too.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 22nd, 1976

Today, her attention was drawn to her Herbology textbook as she flipped right to the medicine section. Y/N had sneakily stolen a few of her mother’s medical journals as she scribbled down notes.

She flicked through the diagrams. Wizards and No-Majs were different when it came to their bodies and sickness, she knew that, but their anatomy was still the same.

An opera played in the background as she sat in front of the television. It filled the silence as her mother came from behind her, creeping her way closer to the door.

Y/N called out from where she sat. “Care to join me?”

“Can't, work.” She grunted out.

She placed the pen down, full attention drawn to her. “I only have a few days until school starts… you can’t spend some time?”

Her mom wasn’t looking at her, ostensibly staring at the floor, anywhere other than her face.

“It’s not that interesting, but um - I need help with medical terms and illnesses. You’re the best at that!”

“I can’t,” she said roughly. “Can't you see? You have to stop bothering me when I’m busy.” And then she left again, leaving her alone. Y/N would’ve been more bothered had she not been so focused on her studies.

There was a pattern.

In the Herbology textbook, in the werewolf section, there were a few ingredients used to help alleviate symptoms of Lycanthropy.

Dittany, Powered silver, Powdered Moonstone, Aconite…

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 26th, 1976

“Do you want to —” “Work.”

“But you always have work… can’t you take some time off?”

“You know it’s important to me. Why do you keep trying to limit that?”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 29th, 1976

She was partially through her Potions and Charms textbook. It was all she could fixate on.

Deciding to take a break, Y/N went to stretch, getting up to talk to her mom who again, was getting ready to leave. She opened the honey-coloured wood draw close to the door. She pulled out a set of keys, fixing her appearance in a nearby mirror.

She had already opened the door.

“Hey mom, I was thinking of getting lunch… Will you be back soon?”

But, there was faint muffling outside the door.

“Ready for our date?”

Y/N, desperate, seized hold of her wrist, pleading. “Please, I leave in a day.”

“I'll make it up to you,” mom replied, “I promise.” And then, the door clicked shut.

Again.

She stared at the door, trying to regulate what she was thinking.

What made them worthy of her time when their’s were limited.

Robotically, Y/N turned to walk to her room, her hip bumped into the drawer which hadn’t been fully closed. Her eyes flew to it, about to push it in as she caught a flash of white.

Yanking it open, she swore her heart could’ve shattered. White envelopes filled the draw; her familiar handwriting scribbled on top of each letter. She picked one up, twisting it over to the flap.

It was unopened.

She picked up another. Unopened.

Then another. Unopened.

Unopened.

All of them were unopened, sealed. Hardly tampered with and there was hardly a wrinkle.

Was there something wrong with her? Something so disgraceful that made her so disgusting that people kept forgetting - pushing her away? Like an insidious disease.

Was she truly that unloveable? That much of a nuisance? What made someone else so much more important than her?

It was too much to process but if she had to describe the feeling, it was like drowning on dry land.

Whatever home was, it shouldn’t feel like this: cold, lonely, sad.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

Slang dictionary (+ a bit of history bc i didn’t realize how many ppl didn’t actually understand what I was talking about in other chaps):

Coffee Crisp = a very popular chocolate bar sold in Canada. It was a variation of a treat made by a company from the UK. It was briefly introduced to the UK in the 60s but was pulled back because people thought it was too similar to Kit Kat. From what I know, Coffee Crisp is not commonly found in England (I've never seen it in stores) but it’s sold in Scotland.

Candy bar = US term for chocolate bar / chocolate

Grass = during the 60s - 70s, the term 'grass' was very popular slang for weed in New York bc it featured in vogue.

And yes, the British do drink that much tea.

© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify

[baebaejooheon]

Corpse husband x cottagecore! Reader headcanon

Just a cottagecore esque thing where it’s readers birthday and they throw a big meet up/sleepover thing.

Fem reader just bc. Mentions wearing a dress/skirt

A/N: uhhh leave me alone Ik I have a series in the works that I haven’t written for in months. Leave me alone 😎 not edited pls it’s rlly not good , as well as written at 6 am. Based on a maladaptive daydream I had for like a week straight. I could turn this into a real fic if anyone wants it but like ahaha I can barely write once a year 😌🤚🏻 I will probably reread it and fix it later but as of now you get what you get. I literally just typed this on my phone with no sleep so like 🤗🤪

Originally posted by datchidatchi

A little background, Y/N lives in a medium sized cottage esque house. She has a small garden in her back yard, as well as a free roam fluffy brown cow named dellie, and a big chicken coop. As well as a duck that roams the property and a couple of other animals. As well as a huge flower field a little off the premises. (All of this is infact important.)

It’s Your 23rd birthday, and for this big occasion you decided to invite over all your friends, even those who live outside of the country, to your small home in the middle of nowhere. This would be the meetup that would break the internet.

Many people were invited. The typical among us group:Jack, Felix, Rae, Sykunno, Toast, Poki, and even Corpse who was given the option even tho the likelihood was low given the situation.

A few SMP friends you had made through association were also invited: Karl, Alex, Nick etc.

Many people, lots of fun.

The morning of your birthday, You awoke to many messages and posts for your birthday. Lots of bomb selfies on the feed as well as #HAPPYBDAYY/N trending on Twitter. Along with this, you were greeted with a few texts from your non American friends stating that they arrived safely or that they were checking into the hotel rooms they had booked for the weekend.

When the time came for the party, most of the people had managed to show up. The party was in full swing, everyone had a drink in hand, posting pictures, celebrating being together as well as it being your birthday.

Filling the trending tab on Twitter with so many hashtags

Around 10 pm you got a call from corpse and decided to head upstairs to get some peace and quiet from the loud music in your living room.

Answering the phone the conversation wasn’t anything special, corpse wishing you the fourth happy birthday for that day, as well as asking how everything was going. It was a normal conversation, that was, until his breath hitched and his voice started to quiver as he grew quiet, barely mumbling. Asking what was wrong, corpse went on a small tangent about how he wished he was more confident with his looks, how he wished it wasn’t scary showing his closest friends what he looked like etc. and how he wished he could be there at the party with everyone.

“Corpse I’ve told you 100 times. I understand your situation and it’s ok that you couldn’t show up. I don’t hold it against you, but I didn’t want you to feel left out :))”

“What would you say if I said I just pulled up in an Uber and I’m absolutely terrified of what’s gonna happen?”

Sneaking out of the back door as quickly as possible and running to the front lawn preparing herself. Corpse steps out of the car and You just jump in his arms. like full on koala grip on this man.

Holding his face and just showering him with compliments. Lots of reassurance and sweet nothings.

Heading to the back porch in order to allow him to calm down and prepare. The two end up sitting outside in the dark talking for like 30 minutes.

Finally working up the courage to head inside. You hold his hand the whole time and you see his hands start to shake.

Stepping into the living room, Jack noticing corpse was there, smiling but not saying anything after realizing he’s nervous. Meeting eveyone for the first time really being hard on him. No one else knowing what he looks like so no one really has a reaction

“Look who I found”

“Oh Y/N!! We were wondering where you ran off too. Who’s your friend?”

Corpse just hits them with a “uhh, hi 🤗”

Everyone freaking out as soon as they realize who it is and trying to talk to him.

Phones were put away for most of the night in fear of leaking anything.

You going the extra step to check everyone’s camera rolls (with consent of course) just incase and deleting any photo with any form of corpes face.

A group selfie with just corpse’s hand doing a peace sign

Many drunk escapades

Everyone finding a place to crash for the night. Some staying awake on their phones, some heading to hotels, some alresdy passed out for the night.

You check in on corpse before you head to bed, knowing today was a lot for him.

“Surprisingly? One of the best nights I’ve had in awhile :))”

Heading off to bed.

6 am rolls around and ms Y/N is up at the crack of dawn to do morning chores for the small farm.

Cute hobbit esque dress. Brown skirt, off the shoulder white flowy shirt tucked in, white frilly apron, brown corset belt Etc. you know the fit

Walking down the stairs, you see corpse on his phone in the dark sitting at her dining room table. Everyone was still asleep and it seemed like corpse hadn’t even slept a wink. You know, his insomnia and all.

“What are you doing awake? It’s only 6 am and you partied pretty hard last night?”

“Farm life doesn’t stop for a hangover, but I could ask you the same thing mister :) come on you can help me out”

Corpse is 100% not dressed to do anything outside, especially not any farm work.

Tells him to wait on the back porch while she gathers some stuff from the house. coming out with a messenger bag as well as a basket and a blanket.

Sets everything down and continues to feed the animals with corpse, asking him to grab the big bucket of feed. showing him the ropes, filling up everyone’s water dishes. Collecting eggs etc.

Corpse just watching you with a smile on his face. Your just talking to all your animals, yelling at fiesty hens for pecking at your legs and/or talking to Gerald the duck for getting in the way.

Corpse lowkey obsessed with dellie the cow. Pets her and coos for like 5 minutes straight.

When they finish the sun is barely rising everything still looks like a silhouette from far enough away. putting what needs to go inside away, and then grabbing the messenger bag off the porch.

Dragging corpse to the flower field just down the hill at the edge of the property.

Laying out the blanket and sitting just talking for hours.

You plays music from your phone through a small speaker, dancing around and twirling, lost in your own world.

Corpse’s Instagram story is just full of videos and pictures of you in the sunrise, small captions like happy birthweek to the most amazing person Ik. Or damn who knew farm girl had moves.

Literally 30+ story posts at 7 am.

Corpse takes a picture of you making a flower crown. Shadows cast across your skin, the small bit of sunrise light casting a soft golden glow. The field of flowers all around. Literally goddess worthy.

Fans going crazy reposting the pictures, spamming Twitter etc.

His camera roll is FULL of pictures of her.

Giving corpse A flower crown full of an array of wild flowers

Dancing together. Just twirling and laughing.

City boy corpse loving the farm life

Secretly of course

Relaxing and just sitting with eachother as it slowly reaches 10 am.

“Uh, thanks for this morning, I had a lot of fun.” A small sleepy smile on his face. The flower crown crooked on his messy curls as he just stares into your eyes.

You both end up leaning in for a kiss bumping noses as you gently pull away

Definitely the best birthday gift you could have asked for

Heading back inside to see how everyone’s doing.

Rae being one of the few awake asking where the two of you had been seeing it was already around noon

“Those of us awake took it upon ourselves to raid your kitchen sorry not sorry”

Corpse getting sleepy wanting to take a nap seeing as it was noon and he was running on little to no sleep.

You let him rest in your bed as you occupy everyone downstairs

Everyone leaving around 3 pm, corpse is still asleep so you go outside to check on all the animals once again.

Letting Gerald in the house bc he’s being a pain in the ass.

When you come into the house you see corpse coming down the stairs rubbing his eyes and streatching. His shirt twisted and raising slightly, the jewelry and chains he was wearing now gone.

Giving him a good “morning” kiss.

The day is filled with you cooking for him. Making fun of his foil troubles, watching movies, laughing and overall joking.

Spending the rest of the night cuddling together and making the most of the time you had together.

Making things between you official

✨Extra✨

When you post about eachother to tell the fans that the two of you have been dating for like 6 months the captions are wild.

Corpse is like “ugh look at my gorgeous girlfriend, so pretty, so nice and kind, the most amazing person ever” just full on simp. The pictures he uses are from the morning after your birthday.

Your picture is just you guys holding hands. His usual chains and jewelry. Caption just “eww a city boy 🤮, gotta take all the love I can get tho”

[twerkinwithhazza]

Pumpkin Seeds

Author’s Note: UH OHHH BACK AGAIN. I’m back yall finally off hiatus all because my phone is broken LOL. Anywho tumblr is a totally different place and most of my mutuals are adulting now. I would love new tumblr friends and I’m gonna try to continue this writing stuff but I’m busy with adult things now lol and it really depends on if you guys like what you see. Please excuse my rustiness this my first imagine in years... literally. I’ll get better with time. This was also slightly edited but I know there bound to be some mistakes. Anyways watch the Golden music video for clear skin and I hope you guys enjoy!  I think it's so adorable that whoever requested this thought this request wouldn't speak to me lol ! It definitely did because this went from a blurb to a full blown imagine.

psst you can read my other work here!

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut and possible shitty writing, dirty talk, light choking, and some cursing.

Glossary: (y/c/n)= your cousins name + (y/m/n)= your mothers name

Request: hi!!!! if you are wrtiting for Harry please can you do one where missus and Harry are at a family party and have a quickie in the bathroom? don’t worry if it’s not speaking to you lol xxx

Normally you and your husband loved spending time with your families. Harry was always playing a balancing act between filming music videos, doing interviews, writing sessions, and an occasional date night in the house that always involved a Postmates order from your favorite restaurants and the two of you binge-watching Netflix on shuffle. As much as the both of you enjoyed stuffing your face with poke bowls from Poke Papa and watching True Crime stories, it wasn’t exactly romantic or fulfilling for the both of you, just enough to hold you over until his schedule clears up. So when Harry finally got a weekend off, you guys were ecstatic! You spent the week cleaning the house and meal prepping so no Postmates would be needed and Harry used his free time in between interviews for shopping for special toys and pretty lingerie he wanted to see you model for him. Flirty text messages were sent back and forth during small work breaks about your plans for the weekend and now all the two of you had to do was make it Saturday.

You’re not gonna like this...

The 5 words that destroyed you and Harry’s weekend plans. Anne called while you were organizing your closet and announced that her and Gemma, along with your parents and favorite cousins were coming to town to spend time with the two of you. You tried to convince her that maybe a small dinner party at that new fancy restaurant downtown would be a perfect spot for a get together but she was adamant about coming over to cook the two of you a homecooked meal. Breaking the news to Harry was the worst part, he was clearly devastated (you swore you saw the man shed a few tears). Now here you were stuffing your mouth with Anne’s famous juicy cooked duck instead of your husband's juicy di...

“(Y/N) can you pass me the mashed potatoes”

Your dad’s strong yet muffled voice interrupted your train of thought and broke you out of your horny trance as he chowed down on his meal. Pushing the dish over in your dad's direction allowed you the chance to look around and take a glance at Harry who was making small talk with one of your favorite cousins. He was wearing a black button-down shirt, of course with a few buttons loose, and his cross necklace bounced on his chest as he laughed at your cousin's crazy work stories. You focused on his fingers, his infamous rings adorned his hands, you noted that they were slightly damp from eating and the condensation on his glass cup. As you were drinking in his appearance a small damp spot was forming in your panties but given that there were too many eyewitnesses including, yours and his parents so you chose to just clamp your thighs shut and stuff your mouth with more mashed potatoes. 

Harry deserved his credit as a husband. Despite his calm demeanor, he was very well aware of your little ordeal yet still managed to give interview advice to (y/c/n) and compliment your mom’s cocktail mix. He was quite amused by how increasingly frustrated you were becoming. He noted your concentrated face as you munched harshly on a string bean, hands clenching onto the fork for dear life. He decided to do a little temperature check to truly see how far gone you were.

“So what are we thinking for dessert pecan pie or crumble cake ?”, Harry questioned as he stuck his fork in his mouth, pulling it out again once all the gravy was licked clean. Your eyes finally met and you can tell that he was tossing the ball in your court, it was your job to show him how you wanted the game to be played.

“Mmm I don’t know I guess I’ll have some pecan pie but I really wish I had some pumpkin seeds”, you flatly said as you finished sipping your wine, maintaining full eye contact with him.

Pumpkin seeds. You and Harry were “outside of the box” thinkers, you had to be with his life as a celebrity not exactly pairing well with your shared sexual fantasies. You had code words to indicate to each other when you were craving the other one's touch, but you knew that using the same words around friends, family, and other public figures for too long would possibly cause some suspicion. So your code words changed with the seasons, literally. When the leaves started turning that classic golden yellow and auburn, your code words changed thus came the use of the word Pumpkin Seeds.

Gemma and your mom shared a glance, raising their eyebrows in collective confusion.

“Pumpkin seeds.. For dessert ?” Gemma finally burst out., both of your mothers soft laughter followed in the background.

“Heyyy” ,Harry pouted as he bopped Gemma on the nose with some gravy ,“ I have you know Pumpkin Seeds are one of our favorite midnight snacks”. 

“Gross“, Gemma stuck out her tongue and wiped her nose. You couldn't tell whether she was referring to the gravy on her nose, your choice of midnight snacks, Harry’s smug statement followed by a wink at you, or a combination of all three.

“Well we can be concerned with dessert once we break out the baby pictures, I’ve been dying to see the infamous skinny dipping picture (y/m/n) has been telling me about”. Anne clapped her hands together and hopped out of her seat heading to the kitchen. Your mother followed behind but not before instructing you to head up to the attic to retrieve the pictures. You glanced at Harry but he seemed occupied cleaning up the dinner plates with your dad. You let out a frustrated huff and made your way up to the attic to grab the photo albums. 

As you shuffled through old boxes holding Harry’s old tour outfits and your little knickknacks from your travels, you heard the attic door open.

“Pumpkin seeds huh?”, Harry lightly chuckled letting the attic door close and leaning against the door frame. 

You refused to make eye contact with him, continuing to shuffle through the bins locating a few photo albums as you went , “It was only a matter of time Harry and you know it. Our weekend got stolen and we haven’t... ya know in like two weeks. So, yes Harry I want some damn pumpkin seeds.”

You let out a huff. You didn’t mean to come off so sassy and aggressive but you were frustrated… sexually. Your cousin was getting more Harry time in the 3 hour family dinner than you had gotten in the past two weeks. You stacked the photo albums gently on top of each other and cradled them in your arms, finally turning to face your husband but you didn't have to look very far. Harry had closed that gap between the two of you, gripping your face and making you look up at him causing you to drop the albums in shock. 

“Well let’s get you your pumpkin seeds then”

That’s all it took and sparks turned into a flame, you and Harry’s bodies connected and a feverish makeout session broke out. You both were so hungry for each other after weeks of neglects and it just felt so damn good to finally connect. Harry’s wet kisses were making their way down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. You knew he was getting into it and normally you would be completely here for it if your kitchen wasn’t flooded with family members waiting to laugh at your baby pictures.

“Baby.. we… fuckkkkk”, You moaned out as Harry popped one of your nipples out of his mouth before moving to nip on the next one. “Baby we can’t your mom is downstairs… we have to go”, you finally let out and glanced down at your husband as pinched your nipples between his finger tips. “When has that ever stopped us”, he slyly laughs. In one swift motion, he turned you around pulling your back into his chest pulling down your skirt. You couldn’t even get words of protest out, Harry had his hands wrapped around your neck and was already freeing himself from his pants and boxers. He pulled your panties to the side and let out a hiss as he watched a string of your arousal stretch from your dripping flower to his fingers.

“Baby please just do something”, you huffed out a soft moan as you waited in anticipation. The grip around your throat tightened as he entered you, both of you letting out a sigh of relief. Harry completely bottomed out inside of you, touching that special spot that only he could. Your walls clenched around him, holding him in snug almost as if your pussy was begging him not to leave. Normally the two you were very vocal during sex from dirty talk to his loud moans and your even louder cries of pleasure. However you both knew that wasn’t possible right now and kept your moans down as much as you could. Harry was not making it easy though and the noise coming from the two of your bodies colliding were basty in the best ways possible. With every thrust of Harry’s hip you could hear your wetness coating Harry dick and as Harry picked up the speed his balls roughly tapped on your clit, only adding to your pleasure. You could barely form thoughts let alone sentence, Harry was literally fucking you silly and using your G-Spot as punching bag for his dick, The sounds and the pleasure were clearly getting to Harry as well, the grip he had on your hips grew tighter and his eyes were squeezed shut. 

“Bloody fucking hell you’re so tight around me, can’t even take it”, he groans and throws his head back as he roughly draws your hips into his. It didn’t even feel like it was possible but Harry picked up the speed of his thrust continuing the assault on your poor needy pussy even further. The pleasure was all too much and that oh so familiar feeling hit the pit of your stomach and you were starting to lose your composure. Your moans were getting increasingly louder and your grip on Harry was growing tighter. Harry knew his wife and he knew your dam was getting closer and closer to breaking and he was determined to get you there. He placed a hand over your mouth and moved his other hands down to your clit rubbing it in slow circles. “ Look at you” he cooed cockily, “Taking me so fucking well like a good girl should. Barely let out a scream ‘cus you don’t want your parents to hear how much of a cock whore you are”. He knew you wouldn’t last long with the way he was talking to you and he was absolutely correct because his words were driving you insane. As the pressure was continued building up in your stomach, you felt the telling twitch in Harry’s dick that let you know he was approaching his end too.

“Gonna give me what I want uh? Gonna cum all over my cock and let me cum in that tight little pussy of yours. You gotta hold it in.. don’t want to leave any drops for our guest to find huh? Gonna be a good girl and hold all my cum in you?”, Harry grunted into your ear as you whimpered against his hands. You were seeing stars and feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach and you knew it was only a matter of time before you both came undone.” Oh baby”, you whined and your head fell down as the pressure from your stomach finally was released as your orgasm spilled out all over Harry’s dick and thighs. The gushing feeling from your orgasm and your weak whimpers and cries drove Harry overboard, burying his face in your neck and his roughly groaning as he released inside of you. The two of you stayed connected for a bit, thighs stuck together thanks to your shared orgasm with Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist supporting both of your weights up as you composed yourselves. When he finally pulled out of you, you kept every drop he gave you tucked inside your tight walls just as promised. 

“So those Pumpkin Seeds huh”

[queenmuzz]

It’s a Date

@shiranyaaww​ shared this pic, and said that it would be perfect for a Dante x Reader fic, so who am I to refuse?

You’re not going to cry, you tell yourself.  There’s a tonne of reasons you shouldn’t.  Your makeup, that you spent a good half hour applying, will get smeared.  Your dress, which you had spent days picking out the cutest ensemble, will get ruined by tears.

And you definitely don’t want the patrons and waitstaff of an out of the way cozy restaurant you’d heard rave reviews about to see you blubbering like a beached whale.

“Pardon me miss,  would you like to order now?”  The waiter asks, the concern on his face now slipping past his professional veneer.

You fake a smile, “Just more water please, he shouldn’t be much longer.”  A lie, and he knows it, the patrons giving you pitiful glances know it, and worst of all, you know it.

But, whether out of denial, or a vain attempt to prolong the charade, you make a great show of picking up your phone and checking your texts.

5:32 PM: Hey there, I’m at Figaroni’s now.  A bit early, so I’ll just reserve us a table.  Can’t wait to see you!😘

5:56 PM: Still waiting!  Are you lost?  It’s kinda out of the way, if you need directions, I can send them to you.

6:22 PM: Could you please text me?  I just want to know if something came up, and you can’t make it.  I’m not upset, just worried.

And underneath each text is the cold line:  READ.

You scroll through your social media, attempting to see where he might be.  You had been so excited for tonight, your first and second dates had gone so well, you thought this one would be the one that would make you two an official couple.  But now, posted just a few minutes ago, is a pic of him and a few friends at the bar, taking a group selfie, with the caption.  

Bored, so went out to hang out with the buddies, gonna wake up with a horrible hangover for work but... #YOLO

You quickly turn your phone off, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen it.  He was just running late, that’s it.   It couldn’t be that he had just ghosted you and the date, so he could hang out with his buddies.  No, because that would mean you’d dressed up, primped up, and got all excited...for nothing.  And if it was for nothing, you had just been made a fool, a goddamn lovesick fool, all in front of everyone.  If you broke down now, you’d just confirm what they thought.  The best thing to do was to leave the waiter a nice tip for dealing with your behaviour, and run out of the restaurant, and try to not think about the conversations they’ll have about you.

But you’re just frozen on the spot, knowing that the moment you stand up, you’ve accepted to yourself that you’ve been strung along, treated like the fool that you are, and you can’t just handle it.  You’re between a rock and a hard place, emotionally.  The tears spill out…

“Hey, sorry about being late, babe traffic was absolutely disgusting!”  

A man sits down in front of you, and for the briefest moment, your heart leaps out of your chest hoping that you had been wrong, your boyfriend just posted a photo of an old party he went to a week or so ago.  But then, your heart falls.  It’s not him, in fact, it’s nothing like him.  He’s wearing a red leather coat, a casual shirt with what you hope aren’t blood stains on it, and worn finger-less gloves.  He looks completely out of place in this restaurant, and yet as you look through his silver white bangs into his blue eyes, he feels like he’s meant to sit in front of you all along.

But still, you’re emotionally guarded.  You don’t know this guy, never ever seen him in your life, and for all you know, he could be just out for a free meal, under the guise of pretending to be your absent boyfriend.

He notices your shocked expression, peeks around the nearby tables and then lowers his voice. 

“Name’s Dante.  I couldn’t see a pretty lil’ thing like you looking so sad and alone, so I decided to fix that. So, let’s just play it by ear.”

You want to say something, but then the waiter comes up, looking rather relieved, and asks you if you’re ready to order.  Despite having nearly an hour to peruse the menu, the sudden appearance of this man has thrown you off.

“I’ll have the Pizza Prosciutto e Funghi” he says, his pronunciation perfect, not even looking over the menu.  

The waiter nods, “Would you like it cooked your usual way, sir?”  

Dante smiles, and winks at you,  “Extra crispy?  You bet.”

The waiter turns to you, and you barely are able to blurt out what you would like, your voice cracking, your carefully prepared pronunciation mangled.  Neither the waiter, with his professionalism, nor your replacement date seems to notice.  The man does a bow and turns toward the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about paying,” your mysterious saviour says as he pulls out some bills from his coat pocket.  “Got paid today, and I have time to spend it before my brother starts complaining about what I do with it. So,” he says as he reaches out for a piece of bread out of the basket, “Let’s get to know each other.”

So over pizza and pasta, you and him traded your backgrounds.  You had told him about your job, your family life, your interests.  And unlike the guy he replaced, he listens intently, never interrupting, unless it was to ask for more info about something you said. And as you spoke, the pain, the self consciousness melted off of you.  By the time you started asking him, as he wolfed down yet another slice, about his life, you had felt the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“I work for myself, it’s actually just become a family business.” He says, as he wipes his face and hands off with the napkin. “My nephew runs a mobile branch, smart kid, runs it better than I run my own business.”  His smile deepens as he reminisces, and his eyes seem to sparkle more in the candlelight. “My brother recently joined too, and although he can be a pain in the ass…” for one brief moment, a flash of regret passes over his face, before it's replaced back by his beautiful smile, “but I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for having him back.”  In the now dim evening light, you no longer notice his out of place clothes, his face is all that matters, from the whiskers on his chin, to that mane of white hair that you have to resist the urge to reach over and run your hands through.  So engrossed in him,  you’re actually a bit startled when the waiter comes to take your empty plates away.

“Try the strawberry gelato,” Dante suggests, “They make it right here, and it’s to die for.”  

His eyes light up at your expression as you try the delicious concoction,  “There, that’s what I like to see, a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be made to cry.” He grins as he sneaks a spoonful of your dessert, “Don’t know what the douche bag thought was more important than spending time with you, but trust me, it wasn’t worth it by a long shot.”  You silently thank the candlelight for hiding your rapidly growing blush.

He pays the bill, leaving a hefty tip, (and compliments the waiter and the chef, you notice) and helps you put on your coat before escorting you outside.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you walk to your car.  It’s such a meager word to express what he’s done for you.  The dinner was the smallest bit, it was the way he saved you from social embarrassment, and turned a mortifying situation into an experience that you would treasure for a lifetime.  Your only regret is that this will be a one time thing.  You shouldn’t get your hopes up, he only did it because he pitie-

“Here,” he smiles as he hands you a piece of credit card sized paper.  “I know it’s my business card, but it’s also my home phone number.  Call, and just ask to speak to Dante and say the password.  I’d love to do this again, if you want.  I know this place that makes some mouthwatering burgers…”

And with that, he walks off to his bike, hops on, and with a click of his tongue and a dashing smile, he pulls out with a squeal of tires into the night.

Only when he’s out of sight, do you read the card with trembling hands in the dim light of a nearby streetlamp.

Devil May Cry

And written hastily on the bottom, is a messy scrawl of words:

Password: It’s a date.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 26

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: no smut this time, just bucky meeting the family

NEXT CHAPTER

Her mother pulled Bucky into the house. She lived exactly where he’d expect her to live in, a dark academia sort of environment in shades of green, burgundy and dark browns. The walls were filled with shelves containing seas and seas of books and little memorabilia. There were photos of the family on the walls and Bucky noticed the little one right by the staircase of a young girl in a periwinkle dress sat on the beach with a bright smile whom he was absolutely certain was his Y/N. The woman continued to lead them until what he guessed was the living room where the fireplace was on and two kids were running around.

Bucky stood behind with Y/N as her mother made haste towards the drinks’ trolley where Y/N was almost sure the same watered down bottle her brother Anthony had constantly stolen from as a teenager still stood. They were lucky enough not to still have been noticed, her family having an weirdly tradition of not allowing anyone in the living area until they had a drink in hand. Of course she knew why, her family made so many questions both appropriate and inappropriate you’d have to be positively inebriated to deal with it. 

     - Everyone... - Lucy, Y/N’s mother, handed Bucky a burgundy coloured liquid before pulling him inside the living room. - Don’t be shy, Bucky. Everyone, this is Bucky, he’s Y/N’s boyfriend. 

     - I thought he’d be smaller. - a man got up from the dark burgundy couch, walking up to Bucky with an extended hand towards him. Bucky looked at his hand then at his own, before switching to shake it with his flesh arm rather than the metal aberration he’d covered with a glove. - Had a nice flight? Little bean here said she booked first flight tickets even though I told her it’s ...

    - A waste of money, I know dad. - Y/N interrupted. 

    - It was nicer than I expected, sir. - Bucky said yet Y/N could see that little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. - Your daughter made it all the better.

    - Hope she didn’t bother you with leitmotifs. - another man who looked just around Y/N’s age piped up.

     - Colin, don’t even say that word, it might get her started. - a girl, blonde hair dressed in a baby blue dress added. - Oh wow, you’re athletic.

     - C’mon El, you promised to help me tease Y/N about her first serious boyfriend. - Colin wrapped his arms around Y/N but she merely playfully slapped his chest. - Look at you, the last Y/L/N sibling to introduce someone to the family. We were gonna buy you a cake but mum said no.

    - Colin Y/L/N, leave your sister be. - Lucy slapped her son’s head. - We are very happy that Y/N and Bucky are here. 

   - She’s happy there’s a chance you might give her grandchildren. - Colin whispered before adopting that grin that as children made Y/N want to throw a pillow at him.

   - Colin, I said to leave your sister be. - Lucy wrapped her arms around her eldest daughter. - That is not the reason I’m happy you’re dating. Me and your father were just afraid that you would be a bit lonely in New York.

   - Because you have no friends. - Eloise added.

   - Eloise, leave your sister be. She has plenty of friends. - their father added, not moving from his chair where he had returned to read the paper. 

   - Where is your sister? She should be here to meet Bucky.

   - Claire is busy with her husband convincing my husband to get me to have a rat-like creature they call a baby. - Eloise sat down on the other couch, legs crossed over each other. - Do you want a baby, Bucky?

   - Eloise! - Y/N yelled out of shame. Now she understood why her mother looked so dead whenever she had to go shopping with 4 children at 10 AM. She was clearly wrong to think her siblings would act like regular human beings in front of a guest, they barely acted like regular human beings on a regular basis. - We should go put the bags in my bedroom.

   - No, wait, beanie. CLAIRE! CLAIRE COME SAY HI TO YOUR SISTER AND BUCKY! - Y/N’s mother rushed to the kitchen, yelling out whom he guessed was the name of Y/N’s last sibling. Out of the kitchen and into the living room came a girl dressed in the same dress as Eloise except it was purple, holding a bundle of blankets against her chest. 

  - Aw, let me hold Sophie. - Y/N dropped her bags to meet her sister who handled her the baby. Bucky inspected the scene, watching as her embarrassed facade quickly changed into one of wonder as she looked at her niece. - Look at you, you’re so cute, Miss Sophie, yes you are. 

  - Claire, say hi to Bucky.

  - Why is he so tall? - she shook his hand. - I thought you’d be smaller with that nickname.

Is this was Steve felt like after the serum? Bucky had never stopped to consider that maybe his nickname sounded like a name you’d give a short guy, to be honest, he doesn’t even remember how it came to be, he just remembered his mum calling it and it sticking. However, he did have to admit that he enjoyed seeing everyone’s confused look once they met him as if he was the tallest man alive when he was barely taller than Y/N’s brother. 

    - Conor, Jack come meet Bucky too. - Y/N’s mum held two men by the arm who looked as lost in the family reunion as Bucky did. - Conor’s Eloise’s husband and Jack’s Claire’s. 

    - Okay. - Y/N interrupted before anyone else told her boyfriend he was too tall. Handing Sophie back to her sister, she held Bucky’s hand. - We are going to put the bags upstairs and take the coats off and we’ll return. 

Y/N knew her family way too well. She had been here when Claire brought Jack home for the first time and her father questioned him about a notorious case followed by Colin asking him if he needed earbuds for Claire’s snoring. She had also been there when Conor and all of Colin’s girlfriends so she knew when it was time to run away with Bucky from her very devoted and very curious family who had already decided to have the baby conversation with him before she had even mention it.

Bucky looked at the photos that were scattered on the staircases’ wall. He could always pinpoint where Y/N was, normally in the front with those beautiful, shining eyes. He noticed one particular photo of Y/N alone against a dark blue background in her graduation gown holding her diploma, posing like a beauty queen. He made a note to sneak a photo of it once she wasn’t looking.

She led him into her bedroom. It was a rather small one in tones of white and beige with a double bed. The walls were clean rather than one with a bookcase of dark wood filled with books, trophies and little frames of photos of her as a kid. Her bed had a small white lamb laying on it with some heart shaped pillows and a knitted beige blanket. 

     - Is that you? - Bucky rushed to the shelf to grab a photo of Y/N as a toddler dressed as a ballerina holding a golden medal.

    - Yeah. My grandmother was a prima ballerina so she made all of us do ballet which came quite in handy when I was in Phantom. - she put her coat on the hook on the door. - Sorry about my mum, and my dad and my siblings. I should already apologise for their husbands and the toddlers you haven’t met yet since they’re out with Grandma Louis who I’m also sorry for. 

     - That’s fine. I think they don’t hate me much.

    - It’s better than when Colin introduced Kate, mum was so upset she didn’t speak to her. I would say they love you. 

     - So which one is the oldest? Is there an hierarchy I should know about?

     - I’m the oldest then Colin, Claire and finally Eloise. Eloise got married first and then Claire and Colin is living la vie boheme. 

     - And you? - he wrapped his arms around her waist

    - I’m the actress. Once Aunt Petunia or Grandma Louis gets here you’ll listen to the “the debate team champion becomes an actress kissing all those men and she’s still single” discussion. I also apologise for that in advance. 

    - Well but you are not single anymore. - Bucky leaned down to kiss her. - And I will allow you to parade me as your boyfriend. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. 

    - Ah yes, my three time three-time boxing champion boyfriend. 

    - You’re not gonna drop that, aren’t you?

    - What? It’s very alluring, gets me going.

    - Is that why you gave me an handjob at the airport, princess? - he leaned down to whisper against her ear. She felt goosebumps raise up her skin, mouth drying up as she tried to find the words. - You better have thick walls, princess. 

   - Beanie ... - her mother knocked on the door, pushing the door slightly open and sticking her head in. - We were wondering if Bucky ate meat. We bought this meat that’s not really meat and it’s vegan. I asked some of my colleagues at work to help me cook it and we made some but we can make more if Bucky wants some.

    - No, Mrs. I’m okay with anything, it’s fine. 

    - Non sense. Y/N tell Bucky he can pick what to eat. You’re American right? I’m making some chicken nuggets for the kids and Colin, I could make you some if you’d like. 

    - Mum, that’s stereotypical. 

   - Nonsense, beanie. What do you want to eat, Bucky?

   - I’ll eat whatever Y/N does, m’am. - he tried to hide the little grin as Y/N stood by his side still processing what Bucky had just said to her. - It’s fine, m’am, really. I don’t want to be a bother, I’m so grateful you and your family are okay with having me for Christmas. 

Lucy merely smiled at him as a way of saying it was no problem. Y/N knew her family, they adored to embarrass their children in front of their partners, lovers, and friends but they would adore whoever their children adored as if they belonged to the family since the dawning of time. The actress rose her head to look at her boyfriend, staring at the door like a fading vision on the desert, relaxed muscles and expression. Her hold on his hand strengthened as her head laid against his shoulder, laying a small kiss on the fabric of his shirt.

     - Do you want to go downstairs? We can stay here for a few minutes before dinner. 

     - Yeah, princess. - he snapped himself out of his state, smiling down at his caring girlfriend before following her down the stairs.

Her family had a lot of photos, some on big frames on the wall and other small ones in coffee tables and other surfaces. He couldn’t help but look at them, watching Y/N through the ages and wondering how she was. She always had that look, that inner shyness and bright eyed appearance. Most photos were school photos with that dark blue background followed by a few backstage photos of her in elaborate stage makeup and costumes. Bucky wanted a photo of her, any photo of her, to have in his wallet. Not that he would forget what she looked like, he could never forget it but he wanted to. He wanted to look at her face whenever he paid for his coffee, show people when they asked about her, he guessed he wanted to have the same pride in showing his girlfriend his father had about showing his mother. He wanted a suburban existence, no more Winter Soldier, no more Avengers, just James Barnes. Yet, he also knew he did not deserve that. No, he had taken that structure from so many people he didn’t deserve it. 

Once in the living room, there were more people, notably two kids running around the Christmas tree and two women sat by the beautifully placed table. He felt shy, not knowing exactly what to say, barely knowing these people. 

    - Ah, let me look at you. - one of the woman from the table got up and walked towards them. Bucky thought none of it, thinking it to be directed towards Y/N until the woman took him by surprise by cupping his face. - You’re just gorgeous. Nice eyes, strong features. 

     - Aunt Petunia! - Y/N took her aunt’s hands away from Bucky’s face. - Please. 

     - You know what they say about men with strong features, great lovers, great breeders.

     - Oh my god. - that’s it, she was no longer going to have a boyfriend once she got back to New York. - Bucky, this is my aunt Petunia. 

     - Nice to meet you m’am. - Bucky extended his hand to her but the woman merely pushed him towards the table.

     - I thought she was kidding when she said she was bringing someone home yet here you are. - she led both of them to side by side seats on the table. - So, Bucky have you meet Grandma Louis?

    - I’m afraid not. 

    - Look ma, Y/N brought a boyfriend home. 

   - Can we please not treat this like a world limited event?

   - Nope. - Colin sat next to Y/N. - I had a bet with Eloise you’d date a 50 year old librarian and I lost which is unfair because 100 year old soldier is almost the same. 

   - It’s not and you know it. - Eloise argued from the other side of the table. - How’s the movie, Y/N? 

   - It’s ... good. - she forced a smile, not wanting to show the same family who always wondered why unlike every of her siblings she, the debate captain and champion, had turned down the option to do Law and instead pursued an acting career. Did acting made her happy? Yes. Did the movie made her happy? No. 

   - She’s the best actress I have ever met and seen. - Bucky drew invisible circles over her palm. - Everyone’s always speechless during her takes. 

   - That’s my beanie, always the best at whatever she does. - Y/N’s father added. - Besides, one of us has to not be a lawyer. We’re starting to be known as the lawyer family. 

   - So Bucky, are you enjoying London? Have you ever been? - Claire asked while putting the bibs on her two toddlers who were still happily playing with toy cars on the table.

   - Long time ago, it’s a bit different now. 

   - Y/N should take you to see the tree in Trafalgar, it’s absolutely stunning. - Lucy added. - It’s where her father purposed. 

   - It’s where everyone purposed in this family. We need a new tradition. - Colin rolled his eyes. 

   - If it were up to you, you’d purpose in a McDonalds after coming from the pub. 

   - Shut up, Eloise. 

Bucky merely kept to himself during the dinner, replying to the questions that were thrown his way and laughing at the jokes. There was the odd questions every once and then which Y/N would normally reply to followed by telling him she was sorry which he found adorable. Normally it was him who was defensive over her, too defensive even and to see her take on the role warmed his heart. The dinner ran smoothly and soon everyone was sat on the couch by the fireplace. She was by his side, head on his shoulder as a It’s a Wonderful Life played on the television. 

The night kept going in and in until everyone decided to climb up to their respective bedrooms. Y/N turned on the heating the moment she came in, stripping onto her own cozy red pyjamas while Bucky kept inspecting her room. She had a bunch of books and programs from various West End musicals as well as a few bits of Star Wars memorabilia scattered on the shelves and a Phantom of the Opera music box on her desk. What caught his attention was the tiny miniature of a white picked fence house on her bedside table. Had she been an avid miniature collector and he didn’t know about it?

    - Hey, what’s this? - he pointed at the little house.

    - Oh ... that.

    - Is it a sore topic? I’m sorry princess, I didn’t mean to ...

    - It’s okay, Bucky. - she smiled. - It’s just a silly thing from when I was a kid. I told my mum I wanted to marry Luke Skywalker and move into a white picket fence home and she bought me it. Then I just wanted the house as I grew up but hey I live in SoHo, the best I can do is get another one of those

   - You want a white picket fence house?

   - It’s silly. - she hide her head as a familiar heat climbed up to her cheeks. Bucky placed the miniature back where it was, walking up to her. 

   - It’s not silly. I like picket white fence houses too, princess.

   - You do?

   - Yeah. One of my cousins had one when I was a kid and I always envisioned one for myself. 

  - Did you? 

  - Yeah and then I met you and I thought screw the home, as long as I get to come home everyday to you we could be living in a cardboard home but if you want a white picked fence house than I’ll give you one.

  - Buck ...

  - I’m not kidding. - he smiled at her. - We’ll live wherever you’d like and every single day we’ll come back home to each other and I will pretend I’m not tired so I can stay up and look at you smiling at those TV show reruns you like so much.

  - You like them too. - she added. 

  - Maybe but until then ... - he walked up to his bag removing an worn out big navy blue box. - You can have this. 

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[waitimcomingtoo]

Where We Start Again -3

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: how do you fake date someone you have real feelings for?

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

Playlist by @tiny-friggin-human

The first thing Peter heard when he entered your apartment was shouting. You looked disappointed as you locked the door behind you and put your keys in a bowl next to door.

“Sorry. That’s my dad.” You apologized. “He claims using his “lawyer voice” is the only way he can get clients to listen.”

“It’s fine.” Peter assured you. “As long as he doesn’t use that voice on me.”

“Not unless your skirt is too short or you got a grade below a 90.” You said through a tight smile as you dropped your backpack on a kitchen stool. He uncomfortably shouldered his, unsure of if he should do the same.

“You can put your bag down. Put it next to mine so they can talk.” You raised your eyebrows suggestively. Peter shook his head as he laughed at your dumb joke and put his backpack on the stool next to yours.

“What are the gonna talk about?” He played along and you thought about it.

“Yours is probably telling my backpack about how scared he is since he heard your last five bags disappeared.” You whispered dramatically and Peter scoffed.

“I just lose them a lot, okay? I can’t believe you noticed that.” He mumbled. He did lose his backpack a lot when he had to ditch it for Spider-Man duties, he just never thought you’d notice that he always had a different bag.

“Sometimes I see things when I’m not applying lipgloss or brushing my hair.” You said through a big, fake smile and Peter got the hint.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He told you. “I know you do other things. Like paint, apparently.”

You looked at a small canvas hung on the wall together. It was a painting of squidward on a yellow background with your name at the bottom. You looked at it proudly and adjusted it so it wasn’t crooked.

“I hung that up there two years ago and my parents still haven’t noticed.” You laughed, but Peter didn’t find it very funny. “I think it’s kinda of pretty.”

“It’s lovely. You’ll have to make me one someday.” He said as he gazed at you. You seemed different now that you weren’t at school. You weren’t standing as straight and finally looked relaxed.

“You want me to paint a bunch of dicks on your ceiling?” You asked and he almost choked on his saliva.

“Why would you do that?” He asked in bewilderment.

“It was a Michelangelo joke, ciccino.” You said an unexpectedly authentic Italian accent.

“Oh. Um, pizza spaghetti spicy meatball to you too.” He muttered and you laughed loudly. He looked at you quizzically, never having heard you laugh like that before. It was never that loud or cheerful. You noticed his staring and covered your mouth in embarrassment.

“Sorry about that.” You said sheepishly and he shook his head.

“Don’t be.” He said softly. “It was nice to hear.”

“Come on. I’ll give you the rest of the tour.” You took Peters hand and lead him to a room at the end of the hall. “This is my bedroom. I’m sorry I don’t have Yoda on my sheets. I hope daisies will do.”

MJ’s words echoed in Peters mind when you didn’t let go of his hand. He blinked a few times as he looked around your room. He’d imagined what it might look like a few times, as he did with a most people. He was pretty sure Flash lived in a dirt hole outside of a SuperCuts. Whatever he imagined your room would look like, the reality was better. But as he looked closer, he noticed an absence of photos with friends or mementos from school. It was almost like your popularity started and ended on school property.

“Your sheets are fine. It’s smells like you in here.” He said without thinking. “Was that the creepiest thing I could’ve possibly said?”

“Nah. A boy in my Econ class told me he wanted to use my hair as a towel once. You’re gonna have to try harder to creep me out.” You let go of his hand and smoothed your skirt before sitting on your bed. Peter stood awkwardly near the door until he found the words to say. He didn’t want to take another step into your room at risk of ruining the wholesome atmosphere.

“Your hair looks soft and all, but I don’t think it’d be very absorbent.” He said finally and watched your face for a reaction.

“Right? Some people are so dumb.” You joked and he felt himself ease up. He took a few steps toward the center of your room and noticed a guitar leaning again your dresser.

“Do you play?” He asked curiously and you nodded. You got up and walked over to the guitar, fingering the strings as a soft melody played.

“A little. I can strum along time a few songs.” You told him. He joined you next to the guitar and touched the neck.

“Thats still something.” He assured you. “I didn’t know that about you.”

“Theres a lot you don’t know about me, Peter.” You quipped and stopped touching the strings.

“Good thing I love to learn.” He replied and you picked up the guitar.

“What’s your favorite song?” You asked and played him an energetic riff.

“You’re gonna laugh.” He hesitated to tell you.

“I would never laugh at you.” You promised.

“It’s Hey there Delilah. My mom used to sing it when she made dinner.” He admitted for the first time to another human being. He and Ned didn’t cover vulnerable topics, so he kept personal stuff to himself. It was hard to keep it in sometimes, but he never felt like he had another choice until now. I

“That’s a great song. She had good taste.” You said softly. You had heard about his parents passing from MJ when you asked her about the cute boy who sat at her lunch table a week earlier. You didn’t expect him to open about it so soon, but you were glad he did.

“Yeah, she did.” Peter agreed. He never expected to be talking about this with you, but it felt good to get off his chest.

“What was she like?” You wondered as you fingered the melody to Marry Me, Archie.

“Amazing. We used to do crossword puzzles together and she would finish hers before I read my second clue. And she always had something in the oven. It made the house really hot in the summer but my dad and I didn’t mind. We were happy as long as she was.” He reminisced. You listened intently to him as you played the song softly.

“What would she make?” You asked him.

“Pretty much everything.” He replied. “Her favorite was chocolate chip cookies. But from scratch, not a package.”

“Were they good?”

“They were so good.” He sighed happily. “She used to put extra chocolate chips on as the cooled down. I miss those cookies.”

You didn’t say anything but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. He knew you were listening, and that’s all that mattered. His eyes wandered to your bookshelf which was bare of books except for one.

“Charlottes Web?” He raised an eyebrow as he picked up the book and flipped through it.

“It’s my favorite book.” You told him. He was leaning a lot about you just from being in your room.

“Could’ve fooled me. It looks brand new.” He held it up for you to see.

“I only read it one time. When I was younger.” You shrugged and put the guitar down.

“But it’s your favorite?” He wondered.

“The ending makes me sad. I remember the story and how it made me feel, and that makes it my favorite.” You half smiled. “I just can’t read it anymore because-“

“It makes you sad.” He understood. “That’s cute.”

“You’re cute.” You nodded your head at him and blew him a kiss, like you were cat calling him. He looked away bashfully and brushed it off. “I’m serious. I really like this color on you.”

“So I’ve been told.” He mumbled shyly. “Thank you for the candy, by the way.”

“Well I had to pay you back for the gogurt.” You teased. “Should we get going?”

“Going?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“To the mall. For a dress. Like we agreed.” You said slowly and he remembered why he was at your house in the first place.

“Right.” He nodded curtly. “Let’s go.”

~

��How’s this?” You opened the dressing room curtain and stepped out in a short maroon dress. Peters eyes lit up at the sight of you until he realized something.

“Isn’t that the same dress you just had on?” He asked.

“No. That was burgundy. This is maroon.” You said like it was obvious and it went right over Peters head.

“You look great.” He complimented, and he meant it.

“You said that about the last three.” You whined and looked at yourself in the mirror. You adjusted the dress nervously and decided you hated it.

“Yeah, but you do this crazy thing where you’re super pretty and look good in everything, so.” Peter shrugged and you bit back a smile.

“Peter Parker with the flirtatious banter. We love to see it.” You winked, something he was coming to see you did a lot, and went back into the dressing room. You came out a minute later in a long white dress.

“What do you think about this one?” You asked for his opinion as you smoothed the dress down.

“Oh my God. You look like Princess Leia when she - I’m gonna stop talking now.” He interrupted himself before he said something uncool.

“You don’t have to hide who you are from me, Peter. If you want to make a Star Trek reference, I want to hear it.” You folded your arms and admired the dress in the mirror.

“Okay.” He obeyed. “And it’s Star Wars. Star Trek is different.”

“Oh. Which one has the bunnies playing basketball?” You pursed your lips as you looked over your shoulder at the dress.

“That’s Space Jam.” He couldn’t even hide his attitude. “That’s not even-“

He cut himself off when he noticed the playful smile on your face.

“You’re messing with me.” He realized and you nodded.

“You’re cute when you’re riled up.” You shrugged a shoulder and disappeared back into the dressing room.

“How’s this?” You reappeared in a little black dress. It had a sheer layer over the mini skirt that was short in the front and longer in the back. You looked beautiful, to say the least. Like the person who designed the dress made it with you in mind. Peters eyes slowly trailed down the dress and a smile tugged at his lips.

“You know the scene in Mean Girls when Aaron sees the picture of Cady as a little girl on top of an elephant and smiles? And like, that happy song with guitars plays in the background?” He asked you and you looked confused.

“I think so, yeah.” You shrugged.

“That’s how that dress makes me feel.” He confessed and you tilted your head.

“Like I’m a child riding an elephant?”

“Like I’m seeing you for the first time.” He replied. “The real you, anyway. Again, not trying to sound like a stalker, but I’ve looked at you a lot over the last four years. But this feels like the first time I’ve ever really looked at you. You look - - you look happy.”

“Do I not normally look happy?” You asked quietly, turning to look at your face in the mirror.

“You have a sadness to you.” Peter admitted and your head whipped to him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be saying that.”

“No, it’s okay. No ones ever honest with me.” You were quiet for a moment following the confession. “What else do you see?”

“I see a really beautiful girl.” Peter answered honestly. He thought he was complimenting you, but you looked annoyed with the answer. He remembered what MJ said about you hating being watched and took that into consideration as he formulated his answer.

“I also see someone who’s smart and can solve a rubix cube in under a minute. I see someone who’s funny, but never at the expense of someone else. Someone who remembers your favorite candy and helps you glue a LEGO lamp together after school. And I see someone who would pretend to be my girlfriend to save me from a bully. That’s what I see.” Peter recited. You looked at him for a moment before taking a seat beside him. You looked like you were searching for the words to say, so Peter kept silent.

“We need to get you a tie to match my dress.” You said finally. You gave him a soft smile and took the hand that was gripping the arm of his chair. “Thank you.”

“For?” He wondered what he had done to warrant a thank you.

“For everything you said. No ones ever known me that well before. No one ever wanted to.” Your voice wavered and Peter thought he could see tears in your eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to.” He confessed. “And somehow, I’m getting the chance. I still worry that I’m gonna wake up and this will have all been a dream.”

“What?” Your expression changed from appreciative to annoyed too quickly for Peters liking. “Why?”

“Because girls like you don’t hang out with guys like me.” He shrugged like it was simply. You hastily got out of your chair and Peter feared he had said the wrong thing.

“Says who?” You asked sharply as you folded your arms. He was positive now he had said the wrong thing.

“Says everybody.” He said weakly.

“Fuck everybody.” You snapped and Peter jumped a little in his seat. “You are better company than anyone one of those sentient bratz dolls at my lunch table. I’ve had more fun with you these past two days than I have in four years with them. I don’t care what everybody says because I like hanging out with you. So I don’t want to hear anymore of this status talk. I’m just a person, Peter.”

“An extremely popular person. And your reputation would plummet if you were caught hanging out with an extremely unpopular person, like myself.” He tried to explain himself as he got out of his seat but it only made you angrier.

“Caught? Like I’m committing a crime just for being seen with you?” You laughed bitterly. “I don’t know who instilled in you that I’m some deity that no one can talk to, but it’s not true. I thought you understood that.” You said in disappointment before storming into the dressing room and swiping the curtain shut.

“Y/n- daisy wait. Wait.” He pressed himself against the doorframe and sighed. “I do understand that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on a pedestal like that. I know you’re just a person.”

He heard you sniffle behind the curtain and his heart broke when his worst fear had come to light.

He had made you cry.

“You don’t get it, Peter.” You said quietly through the curtain. “Everyone think I’m a stuck up snob or a perfect, plastic doll. And no one cares to get to know the truth. They just see what the want to see. I want them to see me the way you do.”

“Maybe they don’t deserve to see that. Daisy, you are this exceptionally phenomenal force of nature.” He promised as he tried to make amends. “You hold a power that their tiny minds could never understand. Forgive them. They’re slow.”

He smiled in relief when he heard a laugh from the other side of the curtain.

“Now that I have you laughing again, will you come out?” He pleaded.

“I’ll think about it.” You said after a beat of silence.

“For the record, I liked you from the first day of freshman year. Before you were popular.” He admitted to someone other than Ned for the first time.

“Didn’t my dad almost hit you with his car?” You asked as you opened the curtain just enough so he could see you.

“Yes.” He stuttered, surprised that his apology worked. “But I was jay walking so that’s on me. And as I waited for my heart to start beating again after nearly colliding with your dads Toyota Camry, I looked up and saw you crying.”

“I thought he killed you.” You defended your actions.

“But he didn’t.” Peter smiled easily. “And now we’re talking through a curtain because we’re fake dating and I can see your bra strap. What a wonderful world.”

You laughed loudly again, a laugh he was sure only he got to hear.

“Come in here.” You grabbed him by the shirt and tugged him into the dressing room. His knees weakened at the sight of you in just a bra and panties so he averted his eyes to the ceiling and counted to ten in his head.

“I don’t mean to worry you but I’m about to die, so do with that what you will.” Peter wheezed as he focused on the ceiling tiles.

“Relax. Just turn around.” You ordered and he obeyed. He turned around and tried to ignore the sounds of you getting dressed. “Okay. You can look now. You were saying?”

“I’m saying I liked you before you were the queen of Midtown Tech.” He repeated as he put his hands on your shoulders. “I liked you when you were just the girl who cried on the first day of school because her dad almost turned me into a skinny white boy pizza. I never thought I was gonna be good enough to talk to you. That’s why I’m worried I’m gonna wake up from this. Because it’s something I’ve wanted for so long.”

“You are good enough. You are so good enough.” You laughed sadly and stepped closer to him. “You’re the only one in this school who treats me like an actual person. I’m sorry I got defensive. It’s just because I’ve been wanting this for a long time too.”

“Tell you what.” Peter started. “You’re gonna buy that black dress and I’m gonna buy a tie to match. And I swear, I will never make you feel like this again. I never meant to make you cry, daisy. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You said sincerely. “I don’t get those a lot.”

“Then you better start getting used to it because I make a lot of mistakes.” Peter joked and your body shook as you laughed.

“I look forward to what you can come up with.” You smiled softly.

“Come on. People are gonna think you’re jumping on my skeleton.” Peter said as he opened the curtain and walked out.

“Okay.” You followed him out. “Wait, what?”

Tag List 🏷

@a-villain-vying-for-attention @wendaiii @dorbiksbitch @t-monosapiens-h @badhollandfluff @thisisthebiplace @silteplaittais-toi @seasidecrowbar @spideygirl2003 @5-seconds-of-mendes​ @bitchylittleredhead​ @oh-whatabeautiful-parker​ @everydaymj​ @write-from-the-heart​ @blackpetalsmeandeath​ @electraheart-3174​ @shawni-h​ @peterparkoure​ @sleepythighsweat @steebbb @traveleraroundsworld @averyfosterthoughts

[capsteddybear]

Our Playlist - Wanna Be That Song - Brett Eldredge

Song lyrics:

"When you're searching the horizon, When your eyes look back, When you're standing in the moment, Every life has a soundtrack"

----- ------

You wake up to the sound of people getting their suitcases from the overhead cabinets. You stretch out in your seat and open up your window cover and quickly close it from the bright sunlight beaming in. You feel a tap on your shoulder and you look up and it's your fellow colleague Sarah, "hey wake up, sleepy head. We landed."

"Hey, Sarah. Yeah, I'm up, I'm up." You stretch out again and gather up your things and get your carry on bag from the overhead cabinet. As you board off of the plane you see your other coworkers and students waiting at the gate. Once you're all together you guys head to the baggage claim and gather your other bags and guitars.

You guys then hop in a shuttle and head to the hotel where you guys will be staying for the trip. Once you guys arrive at the hotel you help check in all of your students. The lobby is packed with other students from different universities, but luckily enough the check in process doesn't take too long. You head to your room to check it out. As soon as you walk in you carefully prop your guitar case against the wall and toss your bags on the floor and flop onto the bed face first hugging a pillow. You lay there for a moment letting your body relax. You slowly turn over and stare at the ceiling as you listen to the city atmosphere coming from the street below. You sit up and walk over to the window and pull open the window curtain and look down at the street. Your room is on the 15th floor of the hotel so the crowds of people below look like a bunch of ants. You scan the surrounding buildings taking in the scenery.

You hear a knock at the door and it's your colleague Betty, "hey (y/n), we're gonna head out on the town and get an early dinner. Wanna join us?"

"Yeah sure."

"Okay we'll meet up in the lobby in about an hour?"

"Yeah sounds good."

You close the door and decide to unpack some of your stuff. You pull out your phone and call Chris back home. At first he doesn't answer and you look at your clock and figure out that it's around 3 o'clock in the morning back at home. You decided to leave a message instead, "Hey Chris, I know you're sleeping right now, but just wanted to let you know I made it to Japan. I miss you and Dodger. Love you. Bye."

About a minute later your phone is buzzing and you see Chris' face on your screen.

"Hi"

"Hello, beautiful. I got your voicemail."

You can tell he was asleep from the tone of his voice, "Just wanted to let you know I landed."

"I tried to stay awake, but I fell asleep on the couch. I felt the phone vibrating, but it got lost in the covers and by the time I found it, it stopped ringing."

"You didn't have to stay awake."

"I know, but I wanted to…. Or at least try. What time is it there?"

"It's almost 4:30 in the afternoon."

You hear Chris yawn over the phone, "What are you guys gonna do the first day?"

"Just settle in. We're about to go get dinner." You hear Chris yawn again, "I should let you go back to sleep."

"Mmm, call me when you get back to the hotel? I should be better after I get a couple of more hours of sleep."

"It's okay we can talk another time."

"Nooooo, I miss the sound of your voice…. And I miss your face."

You smile, "It's only been a day."

"After a minute passes I miss you."

You giggle, "aww, that's sweet. I think you need to get some sleep."

"Yeah, but please call me later. Promise I'll answer."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you, (y/n). Good night."

"Good night, babe."

You hang up the phone and freshen up a bit before heading down stairs to the lobby to meet up with the others. You guys head out on the town and do a bit of sightseeing before finding a spot to eat. Everyone is tired from the flight so there's not as much talking at dinner, but you know everyone is enjoying their time together.

After dinner you all head back to the hotel. Once you're back in your room you take a quick shower before calling Chris.

It rings a couple of times before he answers, "hello?"

"Hi, did you sleep enough?"

"Yeah…. I wanna see you, can we video chat or is it bedtime for you?"

"Yeah we can for a bit. Let me set up my laptop and I'll call you back, okay?"

"Okay, bye. Love you (y/n)."

"Love you. Bye."

You grab your laptop out of your backpack and hop into bed. You connect to the wifi and call Chris back. It rings twice before you see his handsome face on the screen.

"Hey handsome."

"There's my girl."

You can tell from the background that Chris is in the kitchen, "What are you up to?"

"Cooking breakfast… your favorite… pancakes." He lifts the pan from the stove and shows you.

"Yummy."

"What's some? I think I made a bit too many."

You rub your stomach, "No thank you. I ate enough at dinner."

"How was it? How's the view from the hotel?"

"It was delicious. There was a lot of different food, I couldn't remember the names of everything, but it was really good. Wanna see the view?"

"Yeah!" Chris puts the pan down and concentrates on the screen as you get out of bed to walk to the window. "Oh wait, you were in bed? Sorry, you didn't have to get up."

"No, it's fine. I didn't find my comfy spot yet."

You hear Chris giggle as you open up the curtains to reveal the view. You hold up the laptop closer so he gets a better view and you point out stuff to Chris.

"How far is the university from there?"

"I think the schedule said about a 10 minute drive."

"Ah not too bad, what time do you guys have to be there tomorrow?"

You walk back to bed and snuggle back in the covers with your back leaning against the pillows with the laptop on your lap. "Call time is at 9 so I'll probably wake up at like 7:30-8 and make sure everyone else is up and has eaten breakfast…. And you, what do you have planned after breakfast?"

"Take Dodger for a walk and visit my mom later."

"Tell her I said hi."

"I will."

"How's Dodger?"

"He's doing good. He slept on the couch with me after you called earlier."

"Why didn't you sleep in bed?"

"I fell asleep watching tv waiting for your call, and I was too lazy to walk to the room after you called."

You let out a giggle, "sorry, I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"It's fine, I'll always wait for you." Chris winks at the screen that causes a big smile to appear on your face.

"I love you."

"I love you too, (y/n). You should get some sleep. You got a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

"I should. I'm really tired from the flight. How do you get used to the time difference?"

Chris laughs, "it'll take another day or so, but you will don't worry."

"Ugh, okay. Gonna sleep now, I'll text or call you when I can okay?"

"Okay. I love you, (y/n). Good night."

"Have a good day, Chris. I love you. Bye."

You close the laptop and place it on the nightstand. You set your alarm clock and soon drift off to sleep.

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

The next morning you're up 20 minutes before your alarm goes off. Your head is pounding so you take some medicine before having breakfast and meeting your students in the lobby. Once at the university you guys head to the music department and auditorium where you guys will be rehearsing. You think the auditorium at your university is big, but this one seems three times as big. First you guys sit in the seating area as the director of the university introduces himself and welcomes you to campus. After the introduction he shows you the practice and dressing rooms. You guys leave your stuff in the rooms before taking a tour of the music department. Once the tour is over you have your students warm up on stage before rehearsing as a group. Your headache is almost gone which makes you happy, but you brought your medicine with you just in case.

During rehearsal you would walk off stage and down the aisle of the seats. Having to perform in a bigger space than you're used to means you have to play a bit louder to fill up the space. Even though there would be mics set up on stage you made notes in your head on certain parts of the piece where you'll need to change the dynamics. You walk back up stage and end the piece. You flip back through your score and add the dynamic changes and tell your students to do the same. You go through your other pieces and add notes as you go along. Your colleagues are also sitting in the audience so you ask for any suggestions that they have and make note of them too.

After you rehearse all of your group pieces you take a 20 minute break before it's time for the solo acts and duets to rehearse their pieces. During your break you send a message to Chris telling him how rehearsal is going and attach a photo of the auditorium with the caption saying "it's 3 times as big as the one back home." When break is almost over you notice that the other ensembles from the other school start to enter the auditorium to watch you rehearse before it's their turn to practice on stage. You start to get nervous. First, it's the bigger concert hall and now it's having unfamiliar people in the audience during practice, not even during the concert yet. You start to fidget in your seat and you feel your phone vibrate in your hand. You look down and it's a message from Chris:

"Hi sweetheart, that's a beautiful spot you get to perform at. I'm so proud of you. You worked really hard to get there. Don't get nervous, okay? You're gonna do great. I love you. 💙 "

You smile and your eyes get teary, but you quickly wipe them away so your students don't notice. However your friend Sarah is sitting in the same row as you and notices you wiping your face and comes to sit next to you.

"Hey, (y/n). You okay?"

"Yeah, just nerves. I'll be fine."

"I'm here if you wanna talk, okay?"

"Thanks, Sarah."

Rehearsal continues and the solo acts and duets from the students sound great. They even get applauses from the other university that's watching. Once all of the students are done rehearsing it's now your colleagues and your turn to take the stage. A few of them perform before you. Once it's your turn you read your message from Chris one more time before placing your phone is your guitar guitar. You take deep breaths as you make your way up to the stage. You perform 2 pieces "Recuerdos de la Alhambra" by Francisco Tarrega and "Asturias" by Isaac Albeniz.

After you finish your time on stage you put your guitar back in your case and take your seat in the audience and watch your other colleagues perform. Once everyone from your university has a chance to perform on stage the next university sets up their ensemble to rehearse. You, your students and colleagues stay in the audience to watch them as well. After 2 hours of rehearsal you guys go to the practice rooms and work on whatever else needs adjusting. You check in on your students if they need any other help with stuff and you give them your notes that you took while watching them rehearse.

The next few days of the trip consists of rehearsals on stage and in the practice rooms. Not only for your students, but also for yourself. When you're practicing in one of the rooms you get text messages from Chris. Mostly of him saying he misses you and that he loves you. But your favorite ones are random photos of him and Dodger throughout the day.

"Dodger misses you." Attached is a photo of Dodger chewing on one of your shoes. "Don't worry, I'll buy you a new pair by the time you come back home."

"Tell Dodger I miss him too. Gotta get back to practice now. I'll call you later."

When you're back in your hotel room you video chat Chris. As you're eating dinner he's eating breakfast so it seems like you're eating together.

"What's for dinner tonight?"

"I just ordered some fruit and a salad. Not really hungry tonight."

"You okay?" As Chris tilt his head in a concerning manner.

"Yeah, I had a big lunch earlier. I'm fine." You smile to reassure him.

"Okay, remember I'm here if you wanna talk."

You let out a deep breath, "I know, thank you. We've been rehearsing a lot and I'm just tired."

"If I was there I would give you a massage."

"Please? I miss your massages …. And your cooking."

Chris laughs, "just another week and I'll give you as many massages and pancakes that you want."

You sigh, "gosh, another week? Don't remind me." You rub the back of your neck from the tiredness.

"Aww come on, besides all of the rehearsing I'm sure you're having an awesome time, right?"

"I am, I just miss you."

"I miss you too, (y/n). I love you."

"I love you, Chris."

"You should get some rest."

"Yeah, you're right…. I'll call you when I can."

"Alright, sweet dreams, sweetheart. I love you."

"Good night, Chris. I love you."

---- -----

The second week of the trip consists of master classes with the instructors from the different universities and the guest judges. When you perform with your students you get a handful of great comments and a few pointers to work on before the final performance at the end of the week. Between rehearsals you always find time to call home and check in with Chris.

"Hi Chris."

"Hey beautiful, how's it going today?"

"It's going great. We finished our master classes this week and we have one more full dress rehearsal tomorrow before the concert."

"Woo, sounds like you've been busy… Gosh, I really wished I could be there to support you in this."

"Aww, I wish you were here too… Promise I'll play my solo pieces for you when I get home."

"Please do. I love listening to you play."

"Okay, I gotta go back to work now. I love you, Chris. Bye."

"Love you too, (y/n). Bye sweetheart."

---- ------

The last dress rehearsal is a success. All of the ensembles from the universities sound amazing. With it being the last night before the concert you go out for dinner one last time with your students and colleagues.

One of your colleagues makes a speech before your food arrives at the table.

"I would like to start off this toast by thanking (y/n) for getting us here. If it weren't for your dedication to your students and your hard work ethics we probably wouldn't have been here."

You turn a light shade of red because now the whole table is looking at you. You take your glass in your hand and raise it up as you stand up from your seat, "I'll take partial credit for getting here. If it weren't for my hard working students we wouldn't be here. These past 2 weeks have really shown me the dedication and time you guys have put into your craft. I really appreciate that, it makes my job easy and fun." The table laughs as you finish up the toast. You enjoy the food and company before heading back to the hotel to sleep.

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

The day of the concert you get to sleep in longer than usual. You feel refreshed and well rested. You have breakfast and lunch with your colleagues and head back up to your room to relax and call Chris.

"Hey."

"Hi, sweetheart, tonight's the concert right?"

"Yeah, in about 2 hours. Wanted to call you before it starts."

"You excited?"

"Uh, yeah, but more nervous than excited."

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart. You're gonna do great. You've worked so hard and so have your students. You guys are gonna rock. I know it."

"Thanks, Chris. I love you. I'll call you later."

"I love you (y/n)."

You take a shower before heading to the university.

Once you're in the dressing room you unpack your concert attire and dress in your conductor outfit for the ensemble pieces first. You stand backstage to the side as you watch the other universities perform first. After they're done it's now your ensemble's turn to take the stage. As you walk across the stage to the conductor podium you hear the applause and your heart starts to race. You take a few deep breaths before you cue your students. You lose yourself in the musical pieces. All of your focus is on the music and your students. And soon enough you're done. You freeze in the cut off position for a moment before you relax your arms and let out a breath of relief as you step down from the podium and the audience applauses your performance. You bow to the crowd and walk off stage as the curtains close to set up for the next ensemble. You miss the next couple of performances as your change into your solo concert attire. As you take one final look in the mirror in the dressing room you notice a single white rose and an envelope with your name on it. Your eyes get watery because you have a feeling you know who it's from. You quickly rip the envelope open and read the note inside:

"Hi sweetheart, I hope you get this in time before you get on stage tonight. Your friend Sarah contacted me and said you were a bit nervous this whole week about performing. I know I probably sound like a broken record when I say this, but don't be nervous. You're gonna sound amazing on stage. I'm so proud of you. I love you. Can't wait to see you when you get back home. - Chris. "

You smile and wipe the tear falling down your cheek as you freshen up before heading back to the stage. You listen to the other solo performances before it's your turn to perform. As you walk on stage again to the concert bench you take deep breaths to steady your heart beat. You take a seat on the bench and get into the playing position and start your performance. After you play the last note of your piece you freeze for a moment and then relax and take a bow as the giant auditorium fills with cheering sounds. A smile of relief appears on your face as you take another bow and walk off stage. You place your guitar back in its case in your dressing room before heading back to watch the rest of the performances.

Once the concert is over you change into more comfy clothes and head back to your hotel room and turn in for the night.

----- -----

You wake up early the next morning for your flight back home. You pack up all of your stuff and meet everyone in the lobby to take the shuttle to the airport.

Before take off you send Chris a text:

"Heading home now. Can't wait to see you. I love you."

While on the plane you stay up and watch multiple movies and read some chapters from a book that Chris recommended for you.

Soon enough you're back home in Boston. As you make your way to the end of the gate you spot Chris in his Boston cap and red flannel. With it being early in the morning you see a sleepy smile appear on his face as soon as he sees. You run up to him and jump into his arms burying your face into his neck as he hugs you tight.

"Chris!!!"

"Hi sweetheart."

He gives you a welcome home kiss before you hug him again and pepper his face in kisses. "Gosh, I missed you so much."

He giggles between kisses, "I can tell. I missed you too." You stand there for a minute in each other's arms, happy to be back together. "Let's go get your luggage and head home." He laces his fingers with yours and you lead the way to baggage claim. When your stuff appears on the belt Chris carries your guitar case in one hand while still holding onto yours.

On the drive back home you lean your head on his shoulder as he drives. He kisses the top of your head and you smile watching the sunrise.

Once you make it back home you're greeted with puppy kisses from Dodger.

"Hi handsome!"

He melts to the floor as you rub his belly. Chris laughs and walks passed you and heads to the kitchen, "you hungry?"

"Depends…. You gonna cook pancakes?" You walk into the kitchen and see Chris with a plate of pancakes already made. You cover your face and bust out laughing.

"You said you wanted pancakes when you got home… I never break my promises." He places the plate on the counter and walks up to you and hugs you.

"Do you remember the other part of your promise?"

A grin appears on Chris' face and he leans in for a kiss, "if you're talking about the massage, then yes I remember."

You kiss him back, "then I'll take the massage first." You wink as you lead the way to the bedroom.

Chris laughs and spins you around into his arms and kisses you passionately before picking you up and carefully placing you on the bed with him laying on top of you.

"Welcome home, sweetheart."

You run your fingers through his hair, "I'm glad to be back."

He peppers you in light kisses before you guys roll around in bed, lost in each other's eyes. Soon enough he does end up giving you that massage he promised. You missed the touch of his warm, strong hands on your body. You moaned as your body relaxed more and more. Soon after you fall asleep. A few hours pass and you wake up from your nap. You roll over in bed and see Chris with his phone and headphones plugged in. You tap his arm to get his attention.

"What are you watching?"

He turns his phone so you can see, "you."

"What?" You rub your eyes to take a better look.

"Your friend Sarah emailed me clips of your performances…. You sound amazing, sweetheart…. You always do…. And you look really beautiful."

You set up in bed and kiss Chris, "I love you so much, babe."

"I love you too, (y/n).... Wanna eat your pancakes now?"

"Yes please!" You hope out of bed and run to the kitchen. You can hear Chris laughing from down the hallway. "Oh nooo!"

Chris jumps out of bed and runs to meet you in the kitchen, "babe, what happened??" You both catch Dodger in the act eating your pancakes and bust out laughing. "It's okay, I'll make a fresh batch for you." He gives you a kiss on the forehead as he walks over to the stove.

"Thank you, Chris." You take a seat on the stool at the kitchen island and tell Chris all about your trip as he cooks pancakes for you.

[rouiyan]

𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌, <3 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

synopsis: in which the worst christmas ever takes a turn for the better (and it rhymes!)

✧ idol!lee jeno x (fem.) reader ✧ best friends to lovers

✧ genres : fluff →  ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ →  FLUFF ✧ word count : 2.8k ✧ disclaimers : none

✧ author’s note — an impulsively written fic, done in a single one-hour-long sitting, and therefore isn't structured very well and has two or three potential plot holes. was the og christmas special but then 'this shirt of his' decided it wanted to go from 300 words to >10k so there's that. merry early christmas !!

"oh dear, that was not a look," jeno hopes the sarcasm in his voice masks his fear. he's a second too slow when he pulls the photo away from your sight, you've already seen the garish fit, blue jeans with an odd cut and the equally blue long-sleeve paired with thick rimmed glasses and matted hair. haechan steals the photo from behind jeno's back and shoves it your way, a mischievous plot already forming in mind. to his delight, jeno's face grows in horror as he watches you grin excitedly at the picture in your hands. "aww, you were so awkward back then. this one's one of my favorites," jeno flushes deeply at your words, there is not a thing in him that can help it. unearthing the photo albums from their trainee days wasn't his idea. rather, it was yours, also making it so he couldn't help it.

"i think we're done for today," he hurriedly shuts the album in front of him without realizing you were still holding onto the photo. you look as if you were to complain and he's also a second away from opening it up again just to dissipate the frown on your face. instead, you say something a little more horrifying, "then can i keep this one? i like it-"

"no!" he retraces as fast as he'd exclaimed, "i mean- wait, why?"

renjun fakes vomits in the background as you reach up to pat down some of jeno's wild hairs. he's just as sick of this as haechan and the others. rolling his eyes, he watches the scene unfold before him like some monotonous kdrama, the male lead always ends up with the female lead anyways. hand back at your side, you let a giggle erupt from your bearings. jeno's face heats up a little more. "why are you so embarrassed, jen? it's not like i didn't know you back then."

the boy in front of you drags a hand across his neck in attempt to cool down the feverish feeling. "i- i know, it's just-" it's just i've liked you since back then. "i don't know," i've always known that i liked you. "it's nothing, really." what you think of me means the world to me.

jeno blinks once and you're one step closer to him. he debates never blinking again if it means never missing your actions. your hand is warm against his as you slip the picture into his palm, closing his fingers around it. jeno takes note of how your voice is also warm, "then keep it, i don't want it if you're not comfortable with me having it."

the picture lays on his bedside table as he stirs in the dark. the winter is cold and his blankets, though thick and abundant, do nothing to warm his heart, something he knows from experience only your presence can alleviate. 

jeno is more than eager to toss his blankets aside and go back to gaming but he remembers the text you'd sent after you'd gotten back to your place. something like sleep early <3 though he really only remembers the '<3' part for sure. funny enough, that's the one thing that keeps him up all night.

jeno counts one minute this time, only one minute after he'd pressed the 'post' button, until he sees your username and accompanying profile picture pop up in his notifications. the nct instagram account is for all the members' use but he knows that you only follow it to like his posts exclusively. it's totally not as if he'd checked each and every post to see which ones you liked. jeno beams and punches a subtle fist into the air under the counter. unluckily for him, haechan notices. "what, she liked your post again? you know, she liked mine too."

maybe it's actually a lucky happenstance that haechan had noticed. "what?! no, she didn't." jeno dives back into the depths of his phone and scrolls through to find his friend's christmas selfie. haechan only chuckles beside him and upon hearing this, jeno looks up with a slight twitch of his lip, "so you're kidding." taking his empty cereal bowl in both hands, haechan's smile only grows snarkier as he slips off the stool. he claps a hand onto jeno's shoulder, "chin up lover boy, we all know she's only got eyes for you."

jeno clips down a smile as he returns to his own cereal, the flakes now soggy and the milk now gray. he downs it all in three gulps, sets the bowl back on the counter, spoon clattering, and reverts his eyes back onto his phone just in time to see an incoming text from you lighting the lockscreen. merry christmas! i think i might have time to come over later today, like late late. ask the others if that's fine with them. he doesn't ask, he already knows it's fine when he replies not a second afterwards yeah sure, merry christmas to you too, he pauses, taking a breather before sending the next, extremely risky, text, see you later <3.

slamming his phone face down on the counter and jolting upright, the stool almost toppling over, he grabs the bowl with such force that has jaemin in the living room popping his head in to check if he's okay. evidently, he's not. jeno scrubs at the dishes with acute fervor in hopes to mask the embarrassment and oncoming wave of doubt that's sure to overcome him if he doesn't preoccupy his mind with other things. jaemin is just about screaming over the sound of the fifty or so dishes that have been left unwashed for weeks on end. "jeno! jeno, what are you doing?!"

the clanking of tableware ceases. jeno reroutes his mind to focus on tapping his toes as fast as he can as he veers in the direction of jaemin's voice, eyes frantic. the kitchen is silent, save for the gush of water from the sink behind him, though his voice is unnecessarily loud and unnaturally high when he speaks, "i'm washing the dishes."

"yes, i can see, but like- why are-"

he's is cut off by the sound of a ping from jeno's phone on the counter. jaemin is reaching over to check the notification for him when jeno's eyes widen even further and he yanks off the pink rubber dishwashing gloves with a resounding snap and dives for his phone before jaemin can even lay a finger on it. bewildered, jaemin gives a simple, "oh," in realization as he draws back.

you're gonna love my gift, jeno. i just know you will <3

and the dishes stay unwashed. at least they got a good rinse.

late, late turns out to be even later than precedented, for you at least, though you're sure that most the boys are still awake at 2:12 in the morning. it isn't christmas anymore but you lack the attentiveness to care in the state that you are in right now, pressing the buzzer just outside their door rather aggressively and panting in equal fashion. you slump into yourself as your mind glosses over the past day and how horridly it had panned out to be. frustration curls and lashes within your actions and you want nothing more than to just drop their gifts off and leave. 

crouching with both arms still planted taut on the bike, your frustrations seems to take on a path of their own, emitting echoing sobs from your being. the tears slide fast onto the floor beneath with nothing to obstruct their merry way. there, they accommodate each other to form a puddle of sorts, one that you stare intently at as it only seems to grow in size with every hiccup of a sob you give.

startled by the opening of the door in front of you, it's as if you've forgotten why you're here in the first place but upon seeing the boy at the door, your best friend who, by the look of it has been up playing games with heavy bags under his eyes, you don't bother to collect yourself or even conceal your tears. 

"y/n, why are you-" he stops, he can't help the laugh that so naturally comes to him. it really is only natural when the sight before him is so dismally absurd. you have indeed come bearing gifts. one of your arms, or the elbow of it, has a giant bag looped around it, the contents of a dozen or so wrapped oblongs threatening to overflow. both hands situated soundly on the giant bike before you, your whole configuration making it slightly difficult to fit comfortably in the narrow hallway. staring up at him, first confoundingly, you mull over the situation at hand yourself and, in the midst of the tears, you start to laugh as well.

you stand, stretching out the joints in your knees as you shove the bag into his arms and then almost run the bike into his balls, shaking your head in amusement and carelessness as he gives a yelp and a jump of surprise. he takes the bag in his arms and moves to let you in, though his eyes never part from you. simply, there is much that he wants to ask but he doesn't until you are safely put upon his bed and he is safely knelt before you, hands in your lap and also clasped in your hold.

"wanna tell me?" jeno's voice is soft, and comes in waves that both surge and surf your emotions. a lopsided and unmeaning smile graces the left corner of your lips, "tell you what, exactly?"

"the bike, for starters," he leaves a pause for you to chuckle, then goes on, "the time, why you were crying in the hallway...should i go on?" you fiddle with his fingers, his own tracing across your knuckles. the smile your expression stretches a little wider and a little more forlorn. "the bike...you said the chain or something broke on yours-"

"i've could just went to go get it fixed, y/n."

"i know, i know but then there was that one day where you were going on about some bike that you wanted to try out and i kinda just committed it to memory and bought it."

"i- i'm- but that was-" he's having difficulty computing the necessary words to encompass his enthrallment, "that was like four months ago."

"yeah and i was going to go pick it up after work today except…" you lick your lips to suppress another laugh. what had you so troubled just a few minutes ago now seems like a distant memory, "except i got fired," jeno's mouth hangs open, "so i went home first to cry and then i got to the shop like three minutes before it closed and then got into an argument with an employee there and then went home to cry again and then fell asleep and then woke up and remembered i had to get it to you before the end of the day but it was already almost two in the morning so i just said, 'fuck it, imma just go and see what happens,' and, well, here i am." you let it all simmer before closing it up, "that pretty much sums it all up for you, huh."

jeno's lips are slow to crease upwards as he processes all the information. he takes his hands from yours, also slowly, and instead places them on either side of your head. you beam down at him, cheeks flaming and lifting into a mirroring, and this time genuine, smile. he gives your head a little shake back and forth, in disbelief and incredulity all at once, "all that on christmas day?"

the way he pampers you never fails to get your heart pumping and adrenaline running tens of thousands of miles per hour. a smile so wide, your teeth even make an appearance, "all that on christmas day."

"well," both his hands are now on both your knees. he looks up at you with pondering eyes and in his room, only lit by the standing lamp in the corner, simply the sight of him is enough to take your breath away. jeno's thumbs run up and down the beginnings of your shins when his lips part with realization and you follow his gaze to the nightstand where, under his phone and a few other discarded items, lies the picture you'd only been able to catch a glimpse of the other day, yesterday. he stares at it for a little before bringing it to your lap to stare at it a little more. then, he turns it over to you, "will it make you feel better if i give you this?"

taking it from him, jeno has no idea how your smile could get any wider, any prettier, but it does. both his hands are back on both your knees, kneading soft circles into the skin. he wishes you weren't wearing a skirt in such cold weather, though either way you look just as mesmerizing to him. the smallest of a chuckle topples past your lips, your pretty lips, and you look from the picture to him with your eyes, your loving eyes. "i mean," you take another glance at it, "how could it not? you were so cute back then."

"you think so?" is what comes out of his mouth but truthfully, jeno has no idea what he's doing when he gets up upon both knees, now just a little under eye level with you. he has no idea what specific thoughts are spurring him on and he has not the slightest inclination of where this sudden courage is coming from. when lee jeno brings your forehead to his own, with a hand to the back of your neck, he is numbed to the mind and sustained solely on the thrum of his gut. driven by intuition, he doesn't render the flaming of your cheeks odd, nor does he take into account the second-long glance you give to his lips, the same lips that brush the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the heights of your brow, before meeting your philtrums and then, ever-so-carefully, the pinks of your lips.

jeno is intoxicated by how you seem to move in tune with every string of his pent up desires. he doesn't give a second thought as to why, or even how, it happens; he just knows that it's because it's you, that if anyone else were to kiss him in the same way you were doing now, he'd be missing out on the very feeling that renders him speechless, dumbfounded, bewildered, awestruck, and lovestruck all at once. pulling back just a bit, your fingers graze over the line of his jaw as you mumble a soft, "merry christmas," into his lips. jeno paces himself to ensure he doesn't stumble over his words, "be mine?"

the second kiss answers the question he's been keeping to himself since he was fifteen.

you're awake when he falls asleep, a stupid smile still plastered on that face of his and you would've had enough mind to tease him about it later, were the same smile not on your own face. you're still awake about half an hour later when jeno stirs in his sleep, though instead of moving away from you, he only holds you tighter. however, you're asleep when he awakens a few hours later, a hand coming up to groggily rub at an eye as he reaches out for his phone only to realize that he doesn't need to check his messages. how could you have texted him when you're right there, in his arms?

he only checks his messages in the hour after you leave, and even then in his manager's car on the way to some filming site, jeno blushes, madly.

i forgot to say yes <3

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — ok i KNOW the fic kinda goes 📉📉 but i only really planned for the first two scenes and was like...now what — and just wrote whatever came to mind afterwards. i hope it's not too disappointing for my first off hiatus fic but whatever mans, i'm over it! anyways, i hope you still enjoyed some parts of it and i'll have you know, i'm very glad to be back. (WILL I STOP IT WITH THE BSF2L FICS? WILL I??), rouiyan.

[vannahfanfics]

Electric Love

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Ochako Uraraka

Hey, all! Here’s my story for the Izuku Big Bang! I had the pleasure again of working with my good friend @danyartime​, so do be sure to check out her adorable art too!

Izuku bobbed his head to the upbeat poppy tune bumping from the small speakers of his desk radio. Though the volume was low to keep from disturbing his dorm mates, the thumping bass in the background of the happy lyrics vibrated the pencils and pens in the ceramic cup beside it. The little tink-tink-tinks of the writing utensils hitting the side of the cup added pleasant harmony to the song. Izuku hummed along as he scrawled notes into his hero notebook, recalling everything he could from the joint training they’d conducted with Class 1-B that day. Just as he was musing that it may be time for yet another volume of his detailed notes, the song ended abruptly to be replaced by a particularly loud yell from the radio host. Izuku jumped and looked at the radio, turning it up in curiosity. 

“Thank you for tuning in this evening, folks! Today we have a very special offer for a lucky listener! Prepare to dial your phones, ‘cuz the tenth caller will win tickets to AKB48’s upcoming concert in Akihabara!” the host announced excitedly. Izuku wasn’t big into girl groups, but he’d often heard his female classmates discussing the idols. They must be really famous! He thought, pulling up his phone and typing up the radio station’s number as the host provided it. “All right, folks! Get ready to hit ‘dial,’ because time… starts… now!” 

Izuku waited just a brief second before hitting the dial button and holding the phone up to his ear. He honestly didn’t expect much— there were probably hundreds of people calling in with the hopes of securing the tickets— but he did get a little excited when he wasn’t immediately greeted with a busy signal or a “sorry” message. The phone rang for a second, and then, much to Izuku’s surprise, someone picked up. 

“Congratulations, Lucky Number 10! You’ve won yourself two tickets to AKB48’s concert next weekend!” 

“R-really?” Izuku stammered in shock, completely floored that a whim of a call had actually won him something. “Oh, wow! Thank you!” 

“Thank you for calling in today! What’s your name, Lucky Number 10?” 

“I-Izuku!” 

“Well, Izuku, we hope you enjoy seeing the dolls of Akihabara in action! Stay on the line so we can provide you with information on how to claim your tickets.” Izuku did as bid while the radio host switched to a private line, playing a song for those who had been unsuccessful in their efforts in claiming the tickets. They gathered his basic information and provided him with the address to the local radio station, stressing that he needed to bring a valid photo identification to verify that it was indeed him and not someone trying to make off with his winnings. They made an appointment to pick up the tickets the following afternoon, since it was too late in the evening for a student to be out and about. After hanging up the phone, Izuku found himself excited to attend the concert despite not really being passionate about the band— new experiences were always thrilling, after all! 

Now… The real question is, who should I take with me? 

By the time he had retrieved his tickets and returned to the dorm the next day, Izuku didn’t have the answer to that question. He perched on the couch eyeing the two cardstock tickets with a frown, debating who to invite. He didn’t imagine that any of the boys were that into girl groups, so he couldn’t take any of them. On the other hand, all the girls probably liked them in some capacity or another. I want to take the person who would enjoy it the most!, he thought with a sigh, flopping back against the couch as the riddle poisoned him from the inside out. 

Just then, he heard Ochako and Kyoka’s voice drifting out of the kitchen. The two girls came shuffling out in their pajamas and fuzzy socks, probably getting ready for their weekly girls’ night as evidenced by the massive bowl of popcorn tucked in Kyoka’s arms. Ochako stared wistfully at her phone, petulant about something. 

“Man… I really wish I could go to the performance next weekend, but the tickets are so expensive!” she moped. Izuku perked up, peering over the edge of the couch. 

“Ochako, I told you that I would take you if you really want to go,” Kyoka smiled wanly. 

“No way!” Ochako refused, shaking her head vigorously. “I could never ask you to spend money like that on me!” She stopped walking to look at Kyoka, then deflated like a balloon and looked back to her phone once more. “All I can do is hope that they’re still performing by the time I’m making money as a professional hero…” 

“Hey, Ochako!” Izuku hurriedly piped up as the two girls turned to head upstairs. She whirled around to look at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. Izuku flushed as he sat up on his knees to look over the back of the couch, suddenly aware that it would sound like he was eavesdropping. “I-I couldn’t help but overhear… I, um, I won two tickets to the AKB48 concert next weekend in a radio contest. You’re more than welcome to use the extra ticket and come with me.” 

“Oh my gosh, Deku, are you serious?” Ochako screamed and zoomed over to him faster than he’d ever seen anyone move, even Tenya. She grabbed his hands, clasping hers around his with the tickets still clutched in his fist. Her nut-brown eyes sparkled with delight as they bored into his emerald ones, which only made him flush darker. “You really mean it? Oh, thank you, thank you! I’m so excited; they’re my absolute favorite girl group! Oh, I’m so excited!” 

Her animated reaction made a smile stretch across his lips and a warm, bubbly feeling rise up in his chest. When she let his hands go to take the ticket, she gazed down at it like it was the most special gift in the world; tears of joy even bloomed in the corners of her eyes. “Thank you so much, Deku,” she repeated again, softly and choked with emotion. 

“Of course, Ochako! We’re gonna have a lot of fun!” He grinned widely. Ochako looked up at him shyly, batting her eyelashes to blink the tears away, before whirling on her heel to scurry back to Kyoka. Izuku leaned his cheek in his hand, smiling dreamily, as the girl jumped up and down giddily while showing Kyoka the ticket like it was nothing short of pure treasure. Cute, he thought, his smile growing more enchanted as Ochako’s own illuminated the room with the brilliance of a star. Seeing her so happy sent a light, fluttering feeling through his chest, and he couldn’t wait until next weekend so he could see that bright smile again. 

The next week passed like a blur, chock-full of hero training interspaced with general lessons and heaps of homework. Izuku busted his behind to finish the week’s assignments by the eve of the concert, determined to have no obligations so he could enjoy the outing as much as possible. After penning his last page of a small history report, Izuku slunk downstairs to indulge in some much-needed human interaction. He sank down on the common room couch with a heavy sigh, right beside Denki and Hanta, who were spending the evening playing videogames. 

“Well, well, well, look who decided to crawl out of their hole and join the world of the living!” Denki joked, nudging him with an elbow before returning his attention to the racing game he was playing. He cursed under his breath as Hanta’s car slammed into his side and sent him crashing through benches and trees on the sidewalk. “Hey, man! Not cool!” 

“Ya snooze, ya lose, Denki!” Hanta cackled, leaning back on the couch and clapping the soles of his feet together excitedly. “Anyway, Izuku, you and Ochako are goin’ to that concert tomorrow, yeah?” he asked, sticking out his tongue and leaning his body as if it would make the virtual car turn harder. 

“That’s right! She seems really excited!” Izuku nodded eagerly. He thought of that illuminating smile, of the joy simply radiating off her being, and couldn’t help but grin giddily. Denki caught his dreamy expression out of his peripheral vision and raised an eyebrow, then teasingly stuck out the tip of his tongue between his teeth. 

“So, does she know that it’s a date?” 

“What?” Izuku sputtered, throwing up his arms and curling his legs up on the couch in shock. His face had turned a bright shade of crimson in a mere instant, his freckles buried beneath the fiery warmth of his blush. “I-it’s not a date! I just had an extra ticket, that’s all, and it would have been such a shame for it to go to waste, so I was looking for someone to give it to, and I overheard Ochako talking about how much she liked the band, so n-n-naturally I would ask her if she wanted to go, because after all, I had the ticket and that’s the nice thing to do—” he babbled, his face reddening with each breathless phrase. Denki and Hanta just stared at him with matching expressions of pure skepticism, which only made his face more reminiscent of a tomato. Steam was practically buffeting out of his ears by the time he lost all semblance of words and just started gasping like a fish out of water. 

“Anyway, does she know it’s a date?” Denki repeated, deadpan. Izuku slapped his hands to his face, utterly mortified. He hadn’t intended to ask Ochako on a date; he was just trying to be nice! What if she did think it was a date? He had less than twenty-four hours until they were set to go to the concert, but if she thought it was a date, then he had to make sure it was the best date ever! After all, it would be her first date, wouldn’t it? Oh, he would hate for her to have a terrible experience— and with him, no less! What should he do? What should he do? 

“Now, Izuku,” Denki sighed magnanimously, chucking his controller onto the coffee table since his friend was clearly distressed. Hanta pouted, disappointed he could no longer clown Denki with the racing game, but paused the game so he could walk around the couch to plop down on Izuku’s other side and sling his lanky arm around his shoulders. Izuku’s emerald eyes, shining against his crimson skin, nervously peered through the gaps in his fingers. “Don’t worry! There’s still plenty of time to fix this sad, sad, sad situation you’ve gotten yourself into.” 

“There is?” 

“Indeed there is!” Hanta chimed in agreement, nodding his head and holding up his index finger confidently. “Rest assured, Izuku, the two of us are gonna transform you into the studliest of studs so that tomorrow you’ll sweep Ochako off her feet, guaranteed!” Izuku tentatively lowered his hands from his face, blinking uncertainly. Despite his misforgivings, Denki and Hanta were popular with the girls of the Hero Course; surely they at least knew something about taking a girl out on a date, right? Whether or not that was true, the two boys hoisted Izuku up to cart him upstairs, ready to give him a crash-course on wooing their adorable, bubbly classmate and taking her on the best first date ever… 

The following afternoon, after a night of feverish courting lessons and last-minute reservations, Izuku was standing in Denki’s bedroom, nervously regarding himself in the mirror hanging on the back of the blond’s closet door. He was dressed in a pair of tight-fitting, slightly torn jeans and a graphic tee— a much different look than his usual cargo shoots and simple tees. Denki fluttered around him, biting down on his lip as he suppressed excited squeals of delight. 

“Uh, Denki, are you sure about this?” Izuku asked, plucking at the white fibers of the shredded denim over his knees. “Shouldn’t I, like, dress for comfort?” 

“No!” Denki scolded and flicked him in the forehead, making Izuku whimper and press his hand over the pink mark on his forehead. “You dress to impress on a date, dude. Rule #1! Ochako’s probably gonna be dressed to the nines for this concert; you don’t wanna embarrass her! Sheesh.” 

Before Izuku could respond, Hanta descended upon him, spritzing him with cologne. Izuku hacked and coughed as the clouds of strong-smelling aroma wafted up into his face, stinging his eyes and throat. Hanta patted his shoulders and gave them an encouraging squeeze, grinning at him through his reflection. 

“You’re gonna do great, Izuku! Remember your training,” he encouraged with another squeeze. Izuku momentarily panicked, his mind flushing the last eighteen hours of grilling the two boys had subjected him to in the art of wooing women. Denki rolled his eyes and thwapped him upside the head with an encouraging smirk. 

“Relax, dude. You’re gonna do fine! Just remember to show Ochako a good time. That’s Rule #1!” 

“I thought ‘dress to impress’ was Rule #1?” Izuku blinked in confusion. 

“Every rule is Rule #1,” Denki tutted, but before Izuku could ask what good that did, Hanta steered him out of the room telling him that it was time for the show to start. They propelled him all the way to Ochako’s room, abandoning him there with no more than excited thumbs-ups and matching grins. Izuku watched them scurry back to the stairs, gulped loudly, and then nervously smoothed down his messy pine-green hair. He was already beginning to sweat; it beaded on the pads of his fingers as he smoothed them through his hair. 

Okay, Izuku! You can do this!, he encouraged himself with a roll of his shoulders and a determined sigh. He’d already informed Ochako that he intended to take her out for lunch today, and she should be ready for their outing by now. He took one more moment to steel his nerves before knocking on her bedroom door before he could change his mind. 

“Comi— oh dear!” 

Izuku winced as the cheerful call was interrupted by a loud thump and a startled squeal. He could hear shuffling and muffled whimpers and stomping around the room; just as he was about to inquire if Ochako was all right, the door swung open to reveal a breathless and red-faced Ochako. 

“Hey, Deku!” she grinned brightly as she swept a stray strand of her chestnut hair from her face, covering her anxiety with a nervous laugh. He could see her leaning awkwardly on one leg and the beginnings of a bruise forming on her other knee. “I’m ready to go!” she trilled, leaning in the doorframe and using her smile to try and hide the pained wobbling of her lips. He began to ask if she was really okay, but the words died in his throat when he finally took a moment to really look at her. 

She was wearing a pink sundress with a white ribbon around the waist, tied in a big bow in the back with lace accents. Shiny white sandals framed her feet, her pink painted toenails shining in the fluorescent lights of the hallway. A big pink-and-white bow was tucked into her hair, which framed her round face. A blush rose to Izuku’s cheeks as he stared at her, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. Ochako blinked perplexedly, eyes growing owlish. “Deku? What is it?” 

“Y-y-you look really cute today,” he finally managed. Ochako blinked again, and then her face flooded the color of her dress. She fisted the skirt shyly, swaying back and forth and trying not to let her happiness show on her face. 

“Thanks, Deku… You look nice, too…” She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger as Izuku continued to admire her beauty, her bashful little smile. After a minute of him just dreamily gawking, Ochako fluttered her eyes and politely pushed, “Um… Deku, shouldn’t we get going? We have a reservation at that sandwich place, don’t we?” 

“O-oh gosh! Sorry, sorry! Yes, let’s go!” In his flurry, he instinctively grabbed Ochako’s hand to begin pulling her down the hall. He heard her squeak in surprise and could feel the nervous sweat flood her palm, but for some reason, he didn’t feel the urge to let go. Her hand felt so soft and nice against his, which was scarred and calloused from the harsh use of his Quirk. She was careful not to touch his skin with her padded fingertips; they wouldn’t get very far with him floating off into space, after all! He did look at her briefly, however, silently inquiring if she was okay. She only grinned bashfully and gave his hand a little approvatory squeeze— and his heart rate shot into the atmosphere as that warm joy bubbled up inside of him. 

It was about a three-hour bullet train ride to Tokyo, where they would catch lunch before heading to Akihabara to attend the early evening concert before catching the train back. It certainly was a full day, but Izuku found himself excited as he joined the train with Ochako. Their curriculum was so demanding that it was rare they had a chance for an outing like this, and Izuku was happy it was with one of his best friends. Except… Best friends don’t go out on dates, he thought with a blush, looking down at where Ochako’s hand rested on the arm of the train seat. He’d let her hand go when they left the dorm, but his fingers had insistently itched to claim her soft hand once again. It felt like it had fit so perfectly in his own, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. 

He looked away from her hand before she noticed, busying himself with the scenic landscape of Japan idling by through the window. He wasn’t sure how long he spent watching the buildings and roads and trees and hills roll by, but eventually he heard a soft thunk that pulled his attention away from the glass pane. He turned to see that Ochako had slumped over the edge of the seat to loll into the aisle, her mouth parted as she gently snored. The thunk had been her bracelet striking the plastic edge of the seat as her arm slipped off. She was bent awkwardly with the other arm of the seat digging into her side. It certainly didn’t look comfortable, evidenced by the way her face twitched in discomfort and she mumbled something unintelligible but laced with pain. 

I can’t let her stay like that, Izuku thought. Gently so as not to wake her, he leaned in to loop his arms around her and pull her back into the seat. She immediately began to slip to the side again, head bobbing, and he reflexively caught the side of her head with his hand. He flushed at the realization of just how big his hand was in comparison to hers, so easily cradling her skull. Tenderly, he guided her head to rest on his shoulder. Ochako’s face slowly became peaceful as she sought out his warmth, smacking her lips as she nuzzled into his neck. Heat flooded his body when the tip of her nose brushed his neck, but he fought the urge to spaz out because Ochako just looked downright adorable snoozing against him. 

Smiling sweetly, Izuku swept away a chunk of hair that had fallen into her face and tucked it behind her ear. Ochako hummed contentedly, her plump lips curling into a tiny smile. 

“Deku,” she mumbled sleepily. He tensed, afraid he’d actually woken her up; however, Ochako didn’t move, just continued to doze peacefully. He relaxed and then immediately tensed again when the realization struck him— Ochako had just said his name in her sleep. What does that mean? Does that mean something? Oh my gosh! Surely that means something, right? He used his free hand to nervously fidget, twiddling his fingers and jumping his leg up and down. His mind whirled for the remainder of the train ride, struggling to comprehend the implications of such a simple utterance. He was in such a whirlwind of confusion that he almost missed their stop as it chimed over the intercom. 

Izuku started with a gasp, then looked down at Ochako, who was still dozing peacefully. He gently shook her shoulder, looking up nervously as people began filing off the train. 

“Ochako… It’s our stop!” he whispered loudly. Ochako stirred, her eyelashes fluttering to reveal hazy, sleep-addled eyes. She looked up at him drowsily with a sleepy smile on her lips. Izuku couldn’t help but return it with a sweet one of his own, charmed by how cute she looked as she rose into consciousness. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” he joked. “Sorry to wake you, but we’re in Tokyo.” 

“Really?” she asked, looking around with her eyes still lidded with sleep. It took her a second to realize her head was propped on his shoulder, her short brown hair spilling over it like a curtain. When she did, however, she stiffened, and then bolted up with a squeak. Izuku only just managed to pull back in time before her head collided with his chin. Ochako covered her hands with her face, peering at him with appalled brown eyes. “I-I-I’m so sorry! How long have I been sleeping on you? That must have been so uncomfortable!” 

“N-n-no, not at all!” Izuku stammered back, waving his hands in denial. “It felt kinda nice, actually.” A split second of silence passed between them as they processed what he’d just uttered. Both of them then gasped and looked away from each other, both covering their bright red faces. The announcer pleasantly initiated the last call, making Izuku stand up stiffly. “W-w-w-we need to go! We don’t wanna miss our reservation!” 

“You’re right! Let’s go!” Ochako agreed, standing up and scurrying down the aisle while still covering her face. Izuku hurried after her, and they managed to hop off the bullet train just as the doors were closing. They stood awkwardly on the platform, heat radiating off them like a couple of steamed pork buns. They took a moment to recover from the embarrassing situation, with Izuku pulling up a map on his phone to navigate their way to the sandwich shop. He looked at Ochako, still slightly pink-faced, and coughed politely because she was still staring stressfully off into space. 

“Sh-shall we head off? I don’t think that the train station specializes in sandwiches,” he joked lightly and rubbed the back of his neck. Ochako smiled at his wisecrack, her opal-pink cheeks turning a pleasant shade of carnation as her discomfort was replaced with happiness. She nodded in agreement so Izuku turned around, standing on his tip-toes to hunt for the stairs over the sea of heads. The subway was bustling as those departing the train and those preparing for the next arrival blended together in a writhing, cacophonic mess. He and Ochako stared dauntedly at the tightly-crammed mass and the stairs hugging the wall beyond the great sea of people. 

“Um… Ochako… Would you like to hold hands?” Izuku offered shyly, looking at her with a sheepish smile. When her eyes blew wide like twin moons, his face blazed red and he hurriedly threw up his hands defensively. “I-I-I just don’t want us to get separated, that’s all! Th-there’s so many people, a-a-after all, and it would waste more time if one of us got lost!” 

“Oh!” Ochako blinked, the blush in her face fading with a sheepish smile. “Sure, Deku.” She offered him her hand and Izuku took it, careful not to touch all five of the cute little pink pads adorning her fingertips. As easy as floating over the crowd would be, it would probably present more problems than it would solve in the end. 

Clutching her hand tight and mildly self-conscious about the sweat that blossomed on his palm, he turned slightly to the side so he could shoulder his way through the crowd. He toted Ochako along, shouting “Excuse me!” and “Coming through!” over the chatter and mechanical din of the train station. Somehow, they wormed their way through the crowd and arrived at the base of the stairs, albeit a little breathless. He smiled at Ochako and moved to retract his hand, but surprisingly, she clenched down on his fingers. When he stared confusedly at her, she looked bashfully down at her feet. 

“It might be crowded on the street, so… maybe we should play it safe?” She peered out of her lashes at him, pink tinging her cheeks. Izuku’s eyebrows crept up his forehead, too stunned to even have the sense to blush, but the hopefulness in Ochako’s timid gaze chased away any inclinations of refusing. He just smiled sweetly and squeezed her hand, prompting her to look up at him. 

“Of course, Ochako. The last thing I’d want to do today is lose you.” 

She gasped lightly, then used her free hand to hide her face as it flushed bright red. Izuku, realizing how flirtatious the simple declaration could sound, did the same and looked over his shoulder. I didn’t mean for it to sound so lovey-dovey, but Ochako thinks this is a date, so I guess I should be a little flirty, right?, he thought, peering out of the gaps in his fingers at her. Though her hand covered most of her face, he could see the edges of her blissful smile poking out from underneath her fingers. The fact she was so happy at just a small comment made his heart flutter and a bubbly feeling rise up in his body. I want to make her as happy as I can today… he realized, a soft smile spreading over his lips. 

I’ll do my best to make this the best date ever for you, Ochako!

Finally, the two awkward teenagers gathered their wits enough to ascend the stairs to the street above. Like Ochako predicted, Akihabara was rather hectic; people streamed along the sidewalks, huddling close together as cars trundled by on the cobblestone roads. Flickering, bright neon signs towered over them advertising shops, deals, news, and— most importantly— the upcoming concert. Using his trusty map as a guide, Izuku weaved through the foot traffic toward the sandwich shop crammed in the small square space. 

“Wow! Look at all the cosplays, Deku,” Ochako piped up suddenly. He looked up with a confused blink, having been absorbed in following the map, before glancing around. Sure enough, a lot of the patrons moseying around were decked out in cosplay of their favorite anime characters. They flocked to the electronics and manga stores, coming out laden with goods. Others stood outside of maid cafés, chatting amicably with the girls in black-and-white dresses, thigh-high stockings, and cute bonnets trying to entice them in for an afternoon snack. Electronic music and chimes bled out of the door of a pachinko parlor as it opened and closed continuously with gamblers walking in and out, most of them defeatedly. 

“Wow! Akihabara really is as electric as they say,” Izuku praised. The air thrummed with energy; he could feel it vibrating under his skin, humming in his bones and sending a pleasant adrenaline pulsing through his body. He found himself with a prance in his step as he led Ochako on, both of them stopping occasionally to marvel at the eclectic displays that made Akihabara the haven for otakus and electronics enthusiasts. They paused so many times that they almost did miss their reservation, bundling into the shop with only a minute to spare and startling the hostess. 

Like the rest of Akihabara, the sandwich shop possessed an anime theme, specifically a popular magical girl anime that he knew Ochako liked to watch with Tooru. The waitresses strutted around in colorful, lace-laden dresses, playfully waving their ornate wands and punctuating their conversations with cute poses and sayings. Ochako’s eyes brightened immediately when they walked inside, and she looked at Izuku surprisedly as they were escorted to a table. 

“Izuku, did you pick this place because of me?” she asked as she eased into the booth seat, which was white and patterned with little pastel-colored hearts and stars. Izuku tried not to seem too proud of himself as he sat across from her, failing a little as the cheeky grin of satisfaction worked its way onto his face. 

“Yeah! They were really nice about working us in for the concert today,” he explained as he picked up the salt and pepper shakers, which were styled like fluffy alien mascots, to examine them with amusement. He set them down before smiling at Ochako, who looked like she was about to cry with gratitude. “I wanted you to have a good time, so I thought picking a restaurant themed after your favorite anime would make you happy!” 

She shrunk down a little in the booth. Her lips twitched as she tried not to smile too hard, but it broke free, stretching across her face until her eyes crinkled up into little half-moons. She played with the bow around her middle and shifted, her eyes trained shyly on the table. Finally, she murmured a soft, “Thank you, Deku. I really am happy.” 

“I’m glad,” Izuku replied, just as softly. She shifted again, her smile growing wider, though her face strained to fit the absolutely overjoyed beam. It made that fuzzy, bubbly feeling rise up within him again. He picked up the menu to hide his pleased smile. 

Everything’s going so well! 

They spent an hour or so in the shop, chowing down on scrumptious sandwiches and fraternizing with the costumed waitresses. Ochako snagged a photograph with every single one of them, and she broke down crying when the manager gifted her a free cosplay wand of her favorite magical girl because he was so charmed by her enthusiasm. She clutched it to her chest as they walked out of the shop, her eyes glittering like diamonds and her skin practically glowed with happiness. As Izuku pulled up his map again to find the concert venue, Ochako dramatically flourished the wand and bopped him on the head. 

“Am I a magical girl now?” He laughed while putting a hand on his head where she had tapped him with it. 

“Yep!” She giggled, tapping him again on his hand. “You’d make a beautiful magical girl.” 

“Thanks.” He laughed. “I’ll take that into consideration. Maybe I’ll make it my brand in a few years!” 

“Oh my gosh!” Ochako laughed, covering her mouth with an obscene snort. “I can just imagine you prancing around in thigh-high boots and a skirt with little plastic wings…” 

“I thought you said I would be a beautiful magical girl!” He whined. “What, is the image too beautiful for you to handle?” 

“Yes!”

They both began laughing hysterically at the image of Izuku waltzing around in a girly costume with his magic wand touting about the power of friendship and love. It certainly was amusing. They continued to joke about it while they strolled to the concert venue, a building tucked into the towering mish-mash of specialty shops. It proudly displayed “AKB48” in bright letters of purple, red, and blue on the scrolling neon sign, followed by a “SOLD OUT” in white. 

“It’s a good thing you won those tickets, Deku!” Ochako said when they filed into line. Izuku clutched the tickets in his hands; it would be a shame for them to come all this way only to have lost them at the finish line. They inched forward as the concertgoers were filed inside. 

“Yeah! I’m happy you agreed to come with me, Ochako. Truthfully, I don’t know anything about these idols,” he admitted while bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “I just called in for the heck of it. I was so shocked when I found out I actually won!” 

“Really? This is gonna be so much fun, then! I can’t wait to see what you think of them!” 

“Yeah?” he said, finding himself growing excited from her infectious enthusiasm. She began to ramble about the origin of idol groups in Akihabara and the rise of the latest, AKB48. Though Izuku really didn’t understand much of what she was talking about, the way her eyes lit up and a smile painted her round face made him listen along anyway. He watched her dreamily, more watching her mouth move than paying attention to the words coming out of it. She really is pretty, he thought absently, marveling at the sheen of her glossed lips. He wondered what flavor it could be. She seemed like a strawberry or cherry type of person, but maybe she opted for something unique. 

“Tickets, please.” 

Izuku was startled out of his daydreaming by the attendant, who had apparently been asking him for the tickets for several seconds, based on his annoyed expression and demandingly outstretched hand. Izuku hurriedly handed over the tickets while sputtering apologies, but the greeter only dismissively waved them through. Ochako encouragingly patted Izuku’s back as he shuffled on, sulking with embarrassment. 

I just couldn’t help but get so engrossed in her talking, he thought with a light blush dusting his cheeks. His eyes were still engrossed with her, trailing slowly to watch as she scampered up to the merchandise table to ogle the band tee shirts. A dreamy smile automatically appeared on Izuku’s lips; she just looked too cute, her index finger pressed against her pursed lips as she carefully surveyed the selection. He moseyed up behind her, hands clasped behind his back and his eyebrows raised meaningfully. 

“There’s a little time before the concert starts… Would you like a shirt, Ochako?” 

“What?” she cried, jumping at his sudden appearance. “O-o-oh, no, I was just looking! You already paid for lunch, Deku. I couldn’t possibly ask for more!” she refused, waving her hands. She was still holding the wand from the sandwich shop, so she accidentally bopped herself in the head with it during her nervous flailing. Her face turned bright red, but she continued to insistently refuse his offer. “Seriously, Deku, don’t worry about it. I don’t want one that bad.” Yet, her eyes slid longingly back to the table. 

“Yeah, you do.” He laughed and pulled out his wallet. He danced away when Ochako tried to swipe at him, dodging her grabs while pulling out a few bills. It took a few seconds for him to get back to the merchandise seller, who was watching them amusedly, but once Izuku dropped the bills into his hand, it was over. Ochako slumped defeatedly and sheepishly slid the shirt she wanted off the table, while Izuku grabbed another that had caught his eye. Izuku slipped his own over the tee-shirt that Denki had loaned him, and Ochako followed suit by sliding hers over her dress. The fronds of her bow stuck out awkwardly underneath, making Izuku chuckle and bat at them. 

“What? Do I look funny?” she pouted, grabbing the hem of the shirt subconsciously. 

“No,” he chuckled while rubbing the soft, wilky fabric of the bow’s tail between his thumbs. “I think it’s cute how big of a fan you are that you’ll wear it over your dress.” Ochako flushed and ducked her head, the edges of her smile peeking out of her swathes of brown hair. He reached out to tuck it behind her ear, and as his fingertips brushed ever-so-softly against her cheek, she froze. Normally he would grow flustered and flail about, but… there was something about the electric energy of this place that made him bold, that made him act on the warm, fluttery feeling that had been filling him up all afternoon. 

Slowly, that bubbly warmth had become sharper, stronger, turning into volts of electricity that shot through his bones every time Ochako gifted him that beautiful smile and cute pink face. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted to make her happy simply for her sake anymore, but rather a selfish desire to fuel the electricity pulsing within him, those sparks of affection slowly coalescing into an electric storm. 

“W-we should go find our seats,” Ochako gulped after a few seconds of staring at him in stunned silence, as his hands were still resting in her hair. He hummed in agreement and pulled back, sliding his hands in his pockets as he led the way. They walked into the concert hall proper to find rows upon rows of seats surrounding a spacious stage. Large black speakers lined its circumference and purple-blue lights basked the area in a dusky glow. Thanks to winning the special promotion, Izuku and Ochako’s seats were near the front— not too far up to be deafening, but close enough to still provide a great view and ambience. They pushed past the other concertgoers to take their place among the throng. They were just in time, as the lights soon dimmed and a hush descended upon the crowd. 

The silence was instantly replaced by deafening cheers as a group of young women in school uniforms skipped out on stage, smiling and waving enthusiastically. Izuku and Ochako barely had time to jam in the soft foam earplugs provided to them before the crowd erupted into their roars; even still, Izuku’s eardrums rang with the cacophony. After greeting the crowd, the girls set up in formation, prompting Ochako to touch Izuku’s arm excitedly. 

“Ah, they’re starting!” she squealed over the cheers. “I’m so excited!” She jumped up and down, standing on her tip-toes to watch the idols with sparkling eyes, and that’s when Izuku stopped paying attention to anything but her. 

Really, if he’d paid for the tickets, they’d have been a waste. Izuku spent the entire concert gazing at the girl beside him. The strobe lights played over her form in hues of pink and purple and blue, the light playing over her round cheeks pink with exhilaration and glinting off her bright smile and shining eyes. Sweat sheened on her skin as she danced excitedly in place and belted out the lyrics to the songs as loud as she could. Every time she looked at Izuku with an expression of sheer elation, he felt his breath leave his lungs. How a girl could be so utterly breathtaking doing something so simple as having fun, he wasn’t sure, but Ochako was. 

The electricity coursed through him, simmering under his skin and filling him to the brim with his own sense of joy. I think I love her, he realized with an adoring smile, just watching her sway her hips and toss her arms as she danced to the beat. No, I know I love her. Maybe he always had. How could he not? She had been there for him from the beginning of his journey, supporting him and encouraging him. She was the perfect balance of soft and strong, a kind heart ready to harden like steel whenever she needed to. And, God, she was beautiful, so beautiful his heart ached looking at her. She was a masterpiece underneath these flashing lights, the shining sun, the glowing moon— a soft and natural beauty that was as pure as the rest of her. 

Izuku found himself reaching out to her without realizing it. He gently touched her cheek, a feather-light trace of her skin. She dropped her arms slightly to look at him in confusion, and that’s when he closed the distance to press a kiss to her mouth. He felt her tense and then melt into him with a soft hum. Her body molded against his like it belonged there, her arms winding around his neck like they’d found their way home. The poppy tunes of the idol band faded into the background as they kissed slowly, sweetly, passionately, in the thralls of a love so electric it could power cities for all time. 

Eventually, they pulled apart, a little breathless and pink-faced. Strawberry, he thought absently when he licked his lips. Ochako stared coyly up at him and batted her eyelashes. 

“I didn’t know this was supposed to be a date,” she admitted quietly, so much so that Izuku almost didn’t hear her over the blasting music of the ending set. He did, though, and his eyes went wide in shock. 

“You… you didn’t? But Denki and Hanta said…” He trailed off with a groan, realizing just how big a mistake it was to listen to those two clowns. Ochako laughed when he face-palmed. She reached up to pull his hand away, still chuckling. The show had just ended with the crowd erupting in applause around them, but the two of them made no move to leave. 

“It’s okay,” she smiled sweetly. “I had an amazing time, Deku, really. This is more than I ever could have asked for.” 

“I’m glad, but…” He chewed nervously on the inside of his check. “Are you okay with it being a date? I mean, I thought… Which is why I kissed you, but if you didn’t want it, that was totally not okay of me—!” Before he could descend into sputtering rambles, Ochako silenced him by putting a finger over his lips. He crossed his eyes to blink at the digit, while she chuckled warmly. 

“Izuku, do you think I would have kissed you back if I wasn’t okay with it?” she teased. He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. 

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true… So… does this mean we’re dating now?” 

“I suppose it does,” Ochako nodded bashfully, turning from side-to-side. Something about that made Izuku exceptionally giddy, so much so that he swooped in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. She squealed in surprise and delight, returning his affections with a nose nuzzle. Filled to the brim with more happiness than he thought humanly possibly, Izuku just took a moment to admire his pretty new girlfriend, and her deep brown eyes that were staring at him, so in love. 

They were practically glued to one another’s side as they exited the concert hall. Dusk had descended, with the last rays of the sunlight spearing into the lavender-blue sky. Though Akihabara probably had much more fun to be had, they unfortunately had to return to the dorm before curfew. They headed straight for the station and boarded the bullet train. This time, Ochako nestled purposefully into his shoulder, watching with lidded eyes as he scrolled through his news feed on his phone. Izuku looped his arm around her waist to hold her close to him, enjoying her warmth blooming against his side with the nighttime cityscape basking them in streetlight.

It wasn’t long until she dozed off. Her shoulders rose and fell with gentle breaths. Izuku petted her soft hair with a smile, still on his phone as he idly wove the silky strands around his fingers. His phone chimed suddenly with a text message from Denki, asking how the date went. Smirking, Izuku raised his phone to snap a picture of them— Ochako dozing against him, held securely in Izuku’s grip. 

If Izuku had to say, it went very well indeed.

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