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#there might be typos I honestly barely know what I'm writing at this point
theliteraryarchitect · 3 months
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Hi! I wanted to say, I read that you are a professional editor, and think it's amazing! You also give very logical and well explained advice. I was wondering; would you say being an editor is a job you can support yourself with? I actually aspire to become one someday, but I'm not exactly sure if it's a good plan.
Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a good day/night
Hey there. Great question. It's totally possible to support yourself as an editor. I've done it, and so have other editors I know. However there are a few important things to consider before choosing editing as a career path.
Your chances of being a self-employed freelancer are extremely high. The number of in-house editing jobs in publishing are low and getting lower. While being self employed can give you a certain amount of flexibility, it also comes along with a lot of hustle and hassle, namely fluctuating income, a stupid amount of confusing tax paperwork, and the need to constantly promote yourself to clients in order to maintain steady work.
You probably won't make as much money as you'd think. Editing is one of the many skilled jobs that suffers from market saturation, which has sadly driven down the price the average client is willing to pay for editing services. I can't tell you the number of overqualified editors I know charging barely more than minimum wage for their work. Personally I've stuck to my guns about charging what I'm worth, but I've sometimes suffered by not having as much work as my colleagues who charge less.
Robots have already chipped away at the future of editing as a human occupation, and will continue to do so at exponential speed in the years ahead. They will never obliterate the job completely, as there will always be humans who prefer to work with humans instead of machines. But the outlook will become ever bleaker as more humans compete for fewer gigs, which in turn will drive down prices even further.
If you are also a writer, editing may adversely affect your writing. I don't mean that you'll become a worse writer, quite the opposite. My editing work has brought new depths to my writing, and I'm grateful for all I've learned by working with my clients. However, editing takes time, uses creative energy, and requires staring at a screen (or paper), and personally the more I edit, the less time/creativity/screen-staring capabilities I have left for my own writing.
If you mention you're an editor, someone will troll your post for a typo, grammatical error, or misused word, and then triumphantly point it out to you in the comments. This is mostly a joke. But it does happen every single time.
I hope this hasn't been too discouraging. If you feel a true passion for editing and really enjoy the work, none of the above should dissuade you. However, if you think you might be happy in any number of occupations, I'd honestly advise you to explore other options. Choosing a career path at this point in history is a gamble no matter what, but the outlook for editors is especially grim.
If you'd like to work with writers and aren't attached to being an editor, there are a few jobs (still freelance) that I believe will survive the coming robot apocalypse. Do a little Google research about "book coaches," "writing coaches," or "book doulas." These are people who act primarily as emotional supporters and logistical helpers for writers who are trying to get their book published or self published. Some of them do actual editing, but many do not, and due to the therapeutic nature of their work I believe they will flourish longer than editors in the coming robot apocalypse.
If you do explore editing as a path, the further away you can lean from spelling and grammar (e.g. proofreader or copyeditor), the longer your skills will be useful when competing with robots. AI still struggles to offer the same kind of nuanced, story-level feedback that a human can give. (Speaking from experience here--I'm a developmental editor and have yet to see a dent in my workload because of robots.) They'll catch up eventually, but it could be a while, and as long as there are human readers, there will always be humans who are willing to pay for a human perspective on their writing. Human spell checkers maybe not so much.
Hope this helps!
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chenziee · 6 years
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Do you have any ereri fic recommandation? I read the 6th ward yesterday (and I'm still slowly moving on, it was so sad ;-; but in a weird way it made me accept Sasha's death in the manga more easily, and it's all good), so preferably a long one please. Thank you for being awesome!
Aaahh, thank you ;__;
Hmm, I have a few fic recs but I’m not sure what you have and haven’t read so I’ll just throw in whatever has stuck with me through all these years and I can think of off the top of my head meaning these might be fics that have been recced a million times over already because they are good. If you want more/something else, let me know :)(On that note, I’d like to direct you to @fuckyeahererifanfic who have a large and beautifully categorized database of ereri fic to fit any specific needs
I’m only going to link COMPLETED fics, because I tend to only read those AND I have a particular track record of fics being abandonded after I pick them up and now have trust issues but if you want some in-progress fics, I can rec some too.
The Little Titan Cafe by @pocketsizedtitan (66k words): Modern, coffee shop AU and the cutest thing.
Just another cliche AU in which Eren works as a barista in his mother’s café, specializing in latte art. And then there’s Levi, who’s not exactly your typical patron, because, well, he’s blunt and rude (which Eren supposes isn’t that much different from regular customers) but mostly he just confuses Eren’s poor little homosexual heart. 
Nuthatch (31k words) and the sequel Sparrow (116k words) by @sugarplum-senpai Canonverse. Pining and slow burn at it’s finest. All I’m going to say about it.
After the war has ended, Levi finds himself thrown into coerced retirement. With nothing but time on his hands, he buys an old house, and throws himself into renovation work to fulfill himself an old, almost forgotten dream: opening a tea shop. If only he could forget about expressive, green eyes and a smile like sunshine. Luckily, he’s still got Hanji.
[Prequel to “Sparrow”]
After the war has ended, Eren’s life is finally good. He’s seen the ocean, is back at HQ where he trains the new Scouts, and he has dinner with Levi every single night. So yes. Things are just as well.
[Sequel to Nuthatch | can be read as stand-alone work]
The Old Boat House by @oppa86oppa (102k words): Modern/fantasy AU, Levi is a merman (fitting to read during mermay no?) Has some andgst and some fluff, a bit of everything, really.
One night after Eren and his friends share a bottle of whisky, two bottles of whatever Annie brought and a couple of ghost stories, they walk the path along the gravel road, through the wheat field and past the small forest and stumble upon the old boat house. Inside they find something that’s sleeping on the bottom of the lake, someone clearly not human. One of them comes up with the idea they should catch it, probably fucking Jean, and in their surprise they actually succeed. However, in mere seconds the situation is suddenly turned completely upside down.
Eren doesn’t fall into the water, he doesn’t jump, he’s pulled down.
Art of War by catsonfire(53k words): Modern AU, fluff and comedy
Noisy neighbors, nursling dinosaurs, satanic box cutters, shitty convenience store management, the word ‘fuck’, hereditary (but not really) homosexuality, beer and ramen, pennies, truckstops, strippers, closets, semi-public defacing, rings, house parties, “recreational” drug use, accidental rendezvous, toxic stew (don’t eat the stew), nice abs, housewives–batteries not included, over-educational movie sessions, copious domesticity, kittens named after landlords, a shit joke at participating locations, and many, many happy endings.A modern AU in which Eren moves into the apartment directly above Levi’s.
Do you want me or do you want me dead? by fmaloser (82k words): Modern not-your-typical-high-school AU. A personal favourite of mine and the amount of kudos is a sacrilage. Although yes, it’s dark. There is blood and gore. The relationship they have is not healthy. Lots of angst. Boys are both broken and break other peoples’ bones, but I love them for it. (Read the tags before reading the fic.)
It’s decided that the school douchebag, Levi, needs a tutor to help get his grades back up. It’s also decided that high school senior, Eren, is perfect for the job.At first, the two hate each other. But after their pasts come back to bite them in the ass, they realize that maybe that’s not the case.
An Unlikely Alliance by @monsoondownpour (117k words) Arranged Marriage Between Waring Kingdoms AU. Everything you want from a good fic.
When Scouting Legions main trading partner, Wall Maria, is experiencing economic strain from constant attacks by the neighboring kingdom Titan, the leaders of the two nations come to an agreement: Scouting Legion will provide military protection in exchange for land and financial aid for the still growing nation.Their new alliance will be sealed with the union of King Jaegar’s son Eren to the Scouting legions strongest soldier, Lance Corporal Levi. But how will the cold, impassive soldier warm to his new husband, who is far from the weak, spoiled princess he was expecting?
Witch’s Vein and Bloodstains by @monsoondownpour (38k words) Fantasy AU. Not that long but so beautifully written it’s unreal. The atmosphere and how it’s delivered is honestly something I aspire to.
In a land of sentient forests and unpredictable magic, it is never wise to venture far without a witch.  
The Survey Corps is in dire need of a replacement after a tragic accident took Ilse’s life in a quest gone horribly wrong. Eren might not be what anyone expected, but he has raw talent and curious allure that even Captain Levi can’t deny. When circumstances conspire to pit the squad against the same adversary that took Ilse barely a year ago, will they be able to handle the challenge a second time round?
Fallen Star @monsoondownpour (31k words) Modern AU. Lots of angst. Actually it’s mostly angst because even the ridiculously fluffy parts hurt. (But spoiler: happy ending, yay!)
Detective Levi Ackerman had his life in order; a steady job he enjoyed, a close circle of friends, and a spitfire little sister who was all the family he could ever want or need. His world was a simple one until ballet prodigy Eren Jaeger stumbled into it.Someone like Eren didn’t belong in his world.Now he wasn’t sure how he would live without him.
Lists by Trick_Fantasy (72k words) College AU. Can be highly triggering for anxiety, there is emotional manipulation, and VERY toxic friendships. It’s about learning to get past all of that. Read at own risk. But it’s an amazing fic and will forever be one of my favourites.
The story of Levi (“Why bother trying to make friends when you can learn to control people instead?”) and Eren (“Because you can control people better when they think that they’re your friends. They don’t even know they’re being manipulated.”) coping with social interaction at college in their own different ways.
Augenfresser by @foxicology (75k words) Modern/Fantasy AU. Horror/Thriller. Deals with heavy stuff, the ending is up for interpretation and known to fuck people up. Be warned.
Monsters did not like to hide under beds, as his father had told him. No; he found the monster hiding in his closet.
Love.exe by @cofferi (70k words) Modern AU. Finishing off with more fluff/comedy so I don’t seem like such a psycho. Definitely a fun read.
All Levi wants to do is drink tea, run his goddamn convenience store, and not have to deal with this kid who keeps coming in to leech his wifi bringing down high-end corporations.
Also literally anything by @sciencefictioness is a sure bet. Just saying.
Also going to take the oppotunity to throw in my own AO3 because why the hell not (although it’s mostly oneshots).
I’m very sure I’m missing some amazing fics and authors but this is what I could think off at 1AM and not make it a mile long post. I hope you find something you haven’t read and that you enjoy these gems anon :)
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Also I can’t help but throw this fic in:
Tinsel Town by TheWonderYears (33k words) Modern AU. Psychotic-murder-boyfriends AU. Seriously. It’s very graphic. Blood, gore, torture, all the fun stuff. I love it. My ultimate fave, always and forever.
There’s Definitely Something In The Water.
Aaaand there goes my ‘I’m not a psycho’ claim.
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ptersparkers · 3 years
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quintessential ravenclaw
summary: there’s not much that you, a ravenclaw who happens to be friends with the golden trio, know about draco malfoy. but one project changes the trajectory of everything you thought you knew about it. 
notes: idk why i’m writing for draco honestly and i know the gif looks like a white girl but in my head i wrote her poc bc i am a poc bye!!!! i just liked the library and how cool the gif is. also in my head everyone here is like, in college despite me writing this in hogwarts. ok bye have fun reading, my loves.
warnings: typos, probably.
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The last place Draco wanted to be was at the Great Hall, sitting next to his loud friends on a Thursday afternoon. 
Rather, he wanted to bring a plate of food up to his dormitory and eat in silence. Pansy was speaking too loudly for his liking, Theo was entertaining her, and Blaise was offering no form of help. With all of the commotion happening around him, Draco felt sequestered in his spot despite being unable to leave. 
You, on the other hand, were talking to Harry, Ron, and Hermione across the hall from Draco when you saw his chin rest in the palm of his hand. 
“Do you think Draco’s doing okay?” you asked out of the blue. The conversation halted and Ron looked at you as if you had grown a second head. 
“Are you mad, Y/N?” he asked. You shrugged. “Why do you care about how Malfoy’s doing?” 
“No real reason,” you replied. “I’ve just noticed he’s been a bit of a downer lately.”
“He’s always down,” Harry reminded. 
“I suppose that’s true. But I don’t know. We have nearly half of our classes together and he’s barely holding it together.” 
“And how can you tell, miss know-it-all?” Ron asked. 
“He hasn’t been exceptionally rude to either of you in two weeks.” 
Harry dwelled on the thought and came to the realization that you were right. Draco hadn’t spared him a glance in the past two weeks and he’d known something was off but wasn’t sure until you were able to point it out to him. 
“I don’t want to ‘fix’ him, Ronald,” you scolded, bringing Harry back to attention. 
“I'm just saying,” he replied, raising his hands in surrender. “You can’t fix what’s broken.”
“Y/N simply means she wants to inquire about why he’s so sullen lately,” said Hermione. “Even though I don’t necessarily agree that you should do it.”
“For Christ’s sake,” you said, groaning with your head in your hands. “I don’t mean to walk over there and ask him if he’s okay. It was just an observation.”
“You are a Ravenclaw,” Harry reminded.
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, lifting your head to bite into a piece of toast. 
“You can be a bit naive about Slytherins,” Harry said. “They’re not all bad but you’ve definitely not been on the receiving end of Malfoy and his friends’ torment.” 
“Harry!” Hermione said, swatting his forearm.
“What’d you do that for?”
“You boys are insufferable,” she grunted, sitting back in her seat. Hermione turned to you and put a hand on your shoulder. “What Harry means to say is you haven’t dealt with Draco for as long as we have, considering we only became friends earlier this year. We don’t mean to stop you from talking to him, but you need to be careful.”
“I don’t know what makes you guys think I’m going to talk to him,” you said with a chuckle. “Thanks Hermione, but I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon. I’m just concerned from a distance.” 
“Well, whatever has Malfoy down,” Ron began, “I hope it keeps him preoccupied so he can forget about us.”
“Right,” Harry agreed. “Thinking about him on top of trying to study for exams is gonna kill me.” 
“We can study together,” you promised him. “Now let’s stop with all this Malfoy talk and finish breakfast, yeah?”
When you parted ways with your friends in favor of finishing an assignment at the library, the last thing you expected was for Theodore Nott to tap your shoulder. 
“Goodness,” you squealed, clutching your chest. Theo laughed. 
“Sorry to scare you,” he said. “Though, I thought I might find you here.”
“Please don’t startle me again,” you huffed, watching as he sat next to you. “What can I do for you, Theo?” 
 “Would you mind helping me with our potions project when classes are over? You’re the best in the class and even I’m not over admitting I need a little help.” 
You looked at him with a kind smile. Theo had always been the nicest out of Draco’s friend group, and you’d go so far as to call him a casual acquaintance. 
“Sure, it’s not a problem,” you replied. 
“Thank you so much,” he sighed out of relief. “You’re my actual saving grace. Draco’s fairly good at it but he seems preoccupied lately.” 
You wanted to ask about him but thought it best not to.
“See you later, Y/N!” 
It was nearly six in the evening when you entered the library, as Theo had told you. Eager to help Theo with his project, you ate a quick dinner and said goodbye to your friends. You didn’t need to walk far to hear hushed voices speaking around a circular table. 
“Shut up, Pansy,” you heard Draco say. “We’re in a library.”
“Shove off, Draco,” Pansy sighed. “You’ve been a real git lately.” 
“When am I not?” Draco snapped back. Pansy sat there quietly. 
“Um,” you interjected. Theo looked up from his book. “I can come back if you’d like?”
“No need,” he said, pulling out the chair next to him. “They’re just Draco and Pansy as per usual.” His comment made Draco roll his eyes and his gaze traveled to where you stood. 
In your years of attending Hogwarts, you’d flown under Draco’s radar until you became friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. You never had a reason to speak with him; until this year, you’d seldom shared classes with him or had any friends that ran in the same circle as he did. There was no real reason for you to make your presence known and though you disliked the way he treated your friends once you were welcomed into their group, you were all adults. There was no reason to act like children. 
Yet you stood in front of Draco and he looked at you like he’d been tormenting you since your first year. 
“Well, are you going to stand there?” Draco said to you. 
You raised your eyebrow at his tone and looked at him for a mere second, as if you were giving a thought to his question, before setting your book bag beside the empty seat and occupying it. Theo rolled his eyes and did his best to ignore his friends talking around him. 
You, on the other hand, were doing your best to help Theo, but your mind wandered to the blond sitting across from you. You could feel his eyes staring directly into your frame and you thought how ironic it was for Theo to have had you sit with his group of friends after telling Harry you wanted nothing to do with talking to Draco. It was almost comical how you’d found your way sitting amongst a group of Slytherins after having confidently said you wanted no part in befriending the ones who associated with Draco. 
You were brought back to attention when Theo knocked your shoulder with his arm in excitement. 
“You’re really smart,” he complimented. “Thanks for helping me, Y/N.”
“It’s no problem, really,” you said with a polite smile. “I find potions to be quite entertaining.” 
“Of course you would,” Draco said. 
“Do you have a problem with me?” you asked earnestly. 
Draco took a moment to think of a response. 
“I’m trying to figure that out.” 
You left the library as fast as you could. 
+++
You found it almost hysterical when you were partnered with Draco for a research essay that was due in three weeks. 
You’d spent the night in your room, wondering why the universe had put you in Draco’s path after you had explicitly told your friends you were a curious bystander to Draco’s sudden lack of wrath. Now, not only did you have to spend your class time sitting next to him as his partner, you had to spend the next three weeks with him. 
The research essay was a significant portion of your grade and you were worried about how to approach him. Were you willing to do all of the research if he was unwilling to? How would you go about asking him to study? Would he want to get a head start like you did to avoid procrastination? 
“Y/N,” Draco said, ceasing your thoughts. You looked to your left and saw him look at you quizzically. “I asked if you wanted to start researching tonight.”
“Oh,” you replied, clearing your throat. “Actually, yeah. I want to get a head start.”
“Good. I want to get this essay done as soon as possible,” Draco said, closing his book. You watched as he put it in his book bag and followed suit, drowning out the sound of creaking chairs from the students leaving the classroom. 
“I’ll be in the library at seven,” he said, pointing at you. 
He left the classroom without a word and you sighed, hoping the next three weeks would pass by like flying colors. 
When dinnertime approached, you had said hello to your housemates and ate with them for a portion of your meal before joining the Gryffindors for dessert. 
“You know, you’re gonna get in trouble by sitting with us one of these days,” Ron said, his mouth full of cake.
“I’m pretty sure you guys have saved this school plenty for this one rule to slip by their radar,” you replied. 
“So you and Malfoy,” Harry began. 
“Don’t remind me,” you said. “I don’t even know how to talk to the bloke without thinking he’s gonna bite my head off.” 
“Can’t help you there,” Ron said with a shrug. 
“We’re meeting in thirty minutes to work on the essay,” you announced. “At least I know he’s gonna work on his part.” 
“Jeez,” said Ron, “you’ve got your work cut out for you. 
“Tell me about it,” you said, rolling your eyes. 
When seven approached, you found yourself walking through the library’s door in search of Draco. His belongings were on an empty desk while he was searching through the bookshelves, unaware of your presence until you put your book bag on the seat next to him. 
“You’re late,” he said. 
“I have two minutes,” you said, rolling your eyes. He looked at the lock and without a beat, scoffed at your correction. “Quintessential Ravenclaw, aren’t you?” 
“I’m not doing the essay by myself, if that’s what you’re hinting at,” you replied with a frown. 
“No, that’s not what I was trying to say,” Draco said, shaking his head. “Never mind. Let’s find a topic and get this essay over with.”
An hour passed by with relative success. You’d divided the work as evenly as possible and watched as Draco kept mostly to himself if he wasn’t asking for your academic opinion. He looked less put together up close than he did from your seat at the Gryffindor table. Draco’s eyes looked perpetually tired and his shoulder looked as if it carried the weight of the world without rest. 
“What are you looking at?” Draco said, turning from the bookshelf to where you stood. 
You closed your book. “Nothing. Just reading is all.”
“I can feel you looking at me.”
“I’m not,” you lied. “Do you have a problem with me, or something?” 
“Considering you’re friends with Potter, yes,” he scoffed. 
“You don’t even know me,” you said. 
“I don’t need to. There’s no reason for me to get to know you if you get along with Potter and his friends.” 
You frowned. “I’m not even in Gryffindor.” 
“Like I said,” Draco said, closing the book and walking past you to the shelf behind you. “I don’t need to get to know you.” 
“I suppose,” you said, ignoring his harsh comment. 
By the next time you and Draco were in the library, you had promised yourself that you’d ignore his presence and work as diligently as you could. Hermione had suggested trying to make nice with him, but you were reluctant to open your mouth unless it was absolutely necessary. 
However, Draco was staring so intently at the parchment in front of him and you desperately wanted to ask him how you wanted to structure the essay. But his penetrative stare and your inherent anxiety about talking to strangers kept you from speaking up. 
“Well?” Draco taunted. “What is it? You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes.” 
“This project would go by a lot faster if you bothered to acknowledge me,” you retorted, sitting back in your seat. 
“This is an essay, not a personality test,” Draco muttered. 
“Come on,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You’re going to spend the next three weeks with me. Might as well try to like each other.” 
Draco looked at your blue robes and considered your offer. You were the first person who was friends with Harry that Draco bothered to speak for more than a minute. While he wasn’t in the business of making friends, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to know that you’d finish your essay with pride, even if you were in Ravenclaw. 
“Get to know each other?” Draco scoffed. “What are we, twelve?”
“I’m being serious,” you replied. “You obviously have a problem with me but you don’t even know me like you think I do. This project will go by faster if we get along.” 
“And what if we don’t get along?” he questioned, taking a step towards you. 
“Then we go back to whatever the hell we’re doing now.” 
Draco should’ve walked away when you proposed the idea of getting to trust one another. He wanted nothing more than to complete the project sooner than later in order to forget that he was partnered with you, yet he found it difficult to disagree with your idea. Draco stood and fixed his posture as he looked into your eyes, wondering if there was an ulterior motive for your actions. 
“Fine,” he agreed. “We can get to know each other and whatnot. Meet me in the Astronomy Tower tonight at nine. Don’t be late.” 
The hallways were quiet apart from the soft echoes of your shoes. You donned a sweater and sweatpants, and felt extremely out of place because you had never worn regular clothing in the hallways. The weather was exceptionally cold, even in your layers, and you dashed for the Astronomy Tower to avoid being late and to avoid freezing in the cold. 
Your hair was still damp from your shower twenty minutes prior and your hands were near freezing. You cursed, wishing you’d brought your gloves with you instead of leaving them by your bedside. The tower was still in the night with the sound of chirping in the distance and you hid your hands in the sleeves of your sweater. You looked at the ground below as you waited for Draco, who called your name as you peered over the edge. 
You yelped and tripped over a pebble on the ground, grabbing the edge of the tower to steady yourself. Draco instantaneously lurched forward and gripped your arm in his hand after you’d steadied yourself and it took him a moment to realize you had completely regained balance. He dropped your arm and cleared his throat, looking at your choice of clothing. 
“You’re not wearing your robes,” he pointed out. 
You rolled your eyes. “You’re clearly wearing yours.” 
“I hadn’t gone back to change,” Draco defends. He was still looking at your informal attire.
“I don’t wear my robes to bed, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you said, crossing your arms. “Plus, it’s cold. I don’t know how you aren’t freezing right now.” 
Draco shrugged. “So, about your proposition.” 
“Draco, you make it sound like we’re handling a transaction,” you said, taking a step around him. 
“Well, you made it sound like one.” 
You scrunch your nose. “I think both of us will benefit from being friendly, considering you have to spend an hour with me everyday.” 
“Can’t we just talk to each other when need be?”
You sighed, wondering if meeting Draco was a waste of time. 
“Fine,” you muttered. “I was getting cold anyway.” 
Draco watched as you walked from where you stood in front of him to the top of the staircase when he spoke before he could contemplate whether he really wanted to or not. 
“Wait,” he called out. You turned around. “If it’ll make this essay more tolerable, then yes, we can get to know each other.” 
You smiled and walked back towards him. 
“You know,” he began, “you’re cold because your hair is damp.”
“I know that,” you said while rolling your eyes. “Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it.”
“So I’ve learned that you’re fairly chatty,” Draco said. 
“Depends,” you shrugged. “I’m kind of shy but I’ve definitely started to get out of my shell after befriending Harry, Ron, and Hermione.” Draco tried not to scoff at the mention of your friends. 
“Must be why I’ve never noticed you until this year,” he stated. You lowered your eyes and awkwardly walked around the tower. Draco watched your movements and wondered if he could’ve said that better. 
“Perhaps,” you mumbled. “I’m talkative to compensate for how awkward I feel when I’m around people I don’t know very well.”
“You could ignore everyone altogether,” he suggested. 
“Easy for you to say, Slytherin Prince,” you scoffed. “You already know people want to be friends with you if you ignore them.” 
Draco couldn't argue with that. “You overextend yourself.”
“No, I’m just friends with people everyone at this school knows.” 
Draco nodded and put his wand in his pocket after realizing he’d been gripping it too hard. The weather was cold, yes, but he wasn’t sure if that was the reason why he was approaching your conversation like it was fragile, like he had to think before he spoke. Your hair stuck to your cheeks and he watched as you kept pulling it from your face. 
“I bet you aren’t really as cold as you make yourself out to be,” you said, observing him from where you stood. 
“Oh?”
“Mhm. I bet you’ve got all these pent up emotions but you don’t like to show it.” 
Draco didn’t want to discuss him, particularly. He also didn’t want you to know that you were on the nose about what was going on with him lately. 
“I don’t think you know anything about me,” he said. “You just think you do.”
You looked at him and shrugged, unable to form an argument. He’d been an enigma to you since you started at Hogwarts the same year as he did, but you never had a reason to speak with him until now. You’d always been more perceptive than you were outgoing, keeping to yourself unless you were surrounded by people you knew fairly well. 
But Harry had asked you to help him with his homework at the beginning of the year and the both of you ended up walking to dinner afterwards, and subsequently you met Hermione and Ron. It was an inadvertent friendship, but a friendship you cherished nonetheless. Draco’s attention shifted to you sparingly, only bothering to acknowledge your presence if he were to acknowledge Harry’s in a condescending manner. He had never spoken to you directly or aimed a rude comment in your direction. Instead, Draco kept ignoring your presence and sneering at you from a distance if you were with the trio, and you were more than okay with keeping it that way.
That is, until you realized that Draco hadn’t bothered to torment your friends for the past couple of weeks. 
Draco kept his eyes to the floor when you passed him in the hallway and didn’t think about making a comment while passing your friends. You had taken notice of Draco’s behavior after having gotten used to his sneering comments and being a bystander to his attitude, and when you vocalized your thoughts about his well being, that was when you inadvertently paid more attention to him. 
“I don’t really value the people I surround myself with at the moment,” Draco confessed. He looked over the tower walls as he spoke. “Most of them are just placeholders. Zabini and Nott are an exception and I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about Pansy.” 
Draco looked back at you and realized your hair wasn’t as damp as it was anymore, and he wondered if you were as cold as you said you were. He shook his head and continued. 
“Sometimes I think I’m not cut out for what my father wants me to do.”
You didn’t ask him anything further. “I’m sorry, Draco.” 
He shook his head once more. “Being pure-blood isn’t as cracked up as everyone thinks it is. It’s just a bunch of formalities that no one wants to partake in.” 
“What do you want to do? After graduating, I mean.” 
“I don’t really know,” he said honestly. “I haven’t given it much thought. My life’s plan has been laid out for me by my father and I haven’t considered a life that wasn’t what he wanted.” 
“I think you have so much going for you and you just need to find a way to make what you want happen,” you said. 
“It’s not that easy--”
“I know,” you interjected. “I know it’s not. But maybe you just need to believe that you can do it.” 
Draco paused. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. 
“Do sound like a Hufflepuff.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I mean it, Draco.”
He looked at you. “No one’s ever asked me what I wanted to do with my life.” 
“I can’t say that I’m jealous of your predicament.” 
Draco laughed, surprising you. “I would run away if I could.” 
You looked at him and the way the moonlight graced his frame. The winds started to pick up and you looked between him and the stairwell. 
“This was...nice,” said Draco. 
“See?” you teased. “This wasn’t so bad.” 
“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “And you know, I think you’re the only person who calls me ‘Draco.’” 
“What do you mean?” you asked. “It is your name, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but it’s always ‘Malfoy,’ never ‘Draco.’” 
You stood next to him while walking down the stairs and looked at him. 
“Oh,” you began, “I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” Draco said quickly. “It’s okay. You can call me ‘Draco.’”
The following few days after meeting him at the Astronomy Tower weren’t as rigid as the first time you met him in the library. The essay was still a project you didn’t look forward to working on, but you weren’t as tense around Draco as you were before. He’d start a conversation with you and had made the effort to ask about your day, and you weren’t sure if this sudden change in attitude was going to last very long. 
Much to your surprise, the final days of working on your assignment with him made you think about how much you were going to miss meeting him after the day was over and working with him in private. The library, having always been your safe space, had become much more whenever you’d meet with Draco to work. He’d been less talkative towards your friends even if you were there, but talking to Draco about anything other than schoolwork when night came felt like you were talking to a whole different person. 
While his boisterous personality clashed with your innately introverted one, you could easily feel yourself exiting the shell you built around you when talking to people you didn’t know very well. You were surprised at how well you and Draco got along, almost to the point where he’d accompany you to your common room before saying goodnight. The Draco everyone knew was far removed from the Draco that talked with you until late into the night. 
In return, Draco could feel himself wondering if he was truly wrong about you. He’d never bothered to get to know Ravenclaws except for past flings, and he certainly never thought to strike up a conversation with you when he knew you were friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But lately, talking about what he was worried about did him more good than bad. Draco liked to talk about his problems. He liked that you were willing to listen to him, even if you didn’t have the advice he wanted. Draco liked knowing you were there for him and that you wouldn’t tell a soul. 
So it surprised you when Draco waved at you from the threshold of the Great Hall while you were sitting with your friends at the Gryffinor table.
“What the bloody hell?” Ron asked you. 
“I’d go far to say we’re really good acquaintances,” you stated. “We worked on that essay, remember?”
“Yeah, but isn’t that done and over?” 
You rolled your eyes. “You boys are so daft.” 
“You mean to tell me you’ve actually gotten to know Malfoy?” Harry asked. 
“Well, yes,” you said. “When you work with someone on a big project, you tend to spend a lot of time together.” Harry rolled his eyes at your response. 
“As long as you know what you’re doing,” Hermione reassured. “I trust your judgement.” 
“Y/N’s gone mad, absolutely mad,” Ron said dramatically. You threw a dinner roll at his chest and he pretended to fall over on the bench, causing Harry to push him back upright. 
You could see Draco from over Harry’s shoulder and watched as he averted his attention from Blaise over to where you sat. He gave you a nonchalant smile in the midst of his conversation and you returned it. Draco shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. 
+++
“Draco,” you hissed as he walked much quicker for your liking. “Slow down, will you? I’m like, half your height.”
“Keep up,” he teased. 
It was a Saturday afternoon and with Harry and Ron sick, and Hermione wanting to stay in her room to catch up on reading, you had asked Draco if he wanted to do something with you to fill the day. He agreed and met with you after lunch outside of the door but realized he had forgotten his wand.
“I can’t,” you mused. He laughed when he heard you catching your breath. “I can wait out here for you.”
“Nonsense,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. It’ll only take a minute. Just come up.” 
You barely had time to register what he said before he pulled you into the Slytherin common room and rushed into his room. 
He had his own room, that much you knew, but it was surprisingly neat. There was nothing that seemed out of place except for his wand that lay on his bed. The room was surprisingly welcoming. The walls were adorned with green and black tapestry and the windows had sheer covers that made the room feel more vibrant than you had expected. 
“I’m impressed,” you said. “You’re very clean.”
“What, you thought I’d live in absolute filth?” he said laughing as he tucked his wand in his back pocket. 
“I don’t know. I just assumed boys are messy. Harry and Ron’s room is a disaster.” 
“That’s because they’re Harry and Ron,” Draco replied. You couldn’t disagree. “Are you sure you’re not going to be cold? It’s November and you’re wearing jeans and a collared shirt.” 
“Well, I don’t want to walk back to my room,” you said. “I’ll be fine, Draco.” 
“Y/N,” he said pointedly. Draco walked past you and fetched a sweatshirt. “Here, put this on.”
“I feel like I’m betraying my house,” you whined. Draco only laughed and watched as you put his jumper on. “How do I look?” 
Draco furrowed his eyebrows and looked at your neckline, noticing the collars were stuck in the sweatshirt. He reached out to fix it and he realized just how short your stature was compared to his. You felt his fingers brush the back of your neck when he fixed your collar and you mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when he was finished. 
“Better now,” he whispered. 
The weekend passed by much quicker than you had liked and you found yourself on Monday morning, unable to get out of bed. Hermione pulled the covers off of you when she noticed Draco’s sweater hanging from the back of your chair. You hadn’t thought much about the day, other than Dumbledore giving students a week of free dress, and decided to put his sweater over a t-shirt. When you sat at the Gryffindor table with a green sweatshirt, Ron’s eyes nearly burst out. 
“First you betray your house by sitting with us, and now you betray us by wearing a Slytherin jumper?” Ron asked. You looked down and saw that you had put on Draco’s sweater. After spending time with him, he had told you to keep it with you until he saw you next, fearing that you’d become too cold despite him having walked you back to your common room. 
“If you must know,” you began, “he told me to return it when I saw him next. I forgot I had it until you pointed it out.” 
“You mean you didn’t see it when you put it on?”
You groaned. “It’s Monday and I’m absolutely exhausted, Ronald.” 
Draco hadn’t noticed you when he entered the hall, engrossed in a conversation with Theo. But when he sat at his table and looked to see where you chose to seat yourself, he saw his green sweater adorned on your body and did a double take. He choked on his morning tea and looked away from his friends, who offered him looks of concern, and brushed it off as going down the wrong pipe. He stole glances during breakfast, noticing your tired eyes and how unfocuse you were around your friends. Draco wished he could sit next to you and ask if you were doing alright. 
“Are you coming to the game?” Draco heard Ron ask you when he exited the hall. “You can watch us beat Slytherin to the next century.” 
“I just hope both teams have fun,” you said matter-of-factly. 
“You’re no fun,” he retorted. 
+++
Gryffindor had just won a quidditch match against Slytherin and they invited anyone who wanted to get their lips wet. As an honorary Gryffindor yourself, Ron was expecting you to be there to celebrate the win with him and the rest of your friends. Harry had ultimately won the game by catching the snitch, but Ron had done a remarkable job at preventing Slytherin from scoring any goals. The win meant a party in the Gryffindor common room and you were no exception. 
“Here’s to Harry!” Ron shouted when you walked downstairs, tipsy from the three shots Hermione had taken with you prior to arriving. 
The strappy heels you wore nearly cost you your balance when a group of girls ran past you, but Hermione was quick to catch your arm and steady you. The exceptionally short dress—your only party dress—seemed to be a bit of an overstatement when you realized most people were wearing skirts or jeans.
“Hush,” Hermione said when you looked around the room. “You look better than everyone here and you know it.”
“I’m going to try not to feel like I stick out like a sore thumb,” you said confidently, pushing your chest out in false bravado. Hermione enthusiastically clapped her hands twice and held your hand when leading you through the crowd of Gryffindors.
“Oi, Y/N,” said Harry, who stood bashfully between Ron and another girl. “Drink up.”
“It’s like you want me to get drunk,” you joked before you drank what little liquid was left in his cup. You grimaced and Ron laughed.
“That’s a particularly rough one,” he said. “Freddie and George are in charge of drinks tonight.”
“Figures,” you said as you handed him back his cup. 
“A shot of firewhisky for you,” said Harry, handing you a shot glass. “And wine to follow.”
“You are a terrible influence,” Hermione said.
“Y/N’s rarely ever here after a Gryffindor win and you know how fun she is when she’s drunk,” Ron interjected. “Besides, she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to drink.”
“Fair point, Weasley,” you replied, drinking the firewhisky. “But I warn you that wanting to drink as much as I am right now is probably not gonna happen any time soon.” 
Ron shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get.” 
An hour and a half into the night, you find yourself alone with an empty cup in your hand. The table next to you is littered with glasses and discarded food wrappers, and you add your cup to the pile. The common room is still as busy as it was when you arrived but everyone seemed too intoxicated to pay attention when you slid out the door. 
Your steps echoed on the floors of the castle and you winced at how loud they were. Bracing yourself against a wall, you idly took off your shoes with a bit of a struggle before gathering yourself and continuing on your path. 
You hadn’t done much exploring without the commotion of students during the daytime. The grand walls seemed much taller because of your inebriated state and the paintings that hung seemed like they were much bigger than they were. 
It was when you were nearly about to trip over your feet when you heard your name being called.
“Y/N?” 
You turned around to see Draco. He wore grey sweatpants and a form fitting black turtleneck with a green washcloth in his hand. He looked exhausted from earlier but the handsome blond looked at you with a quizzical expression. 
“May I ask why you’re walking around the castle late at night?” he asked, amused at your drunken state.
“Well, I was at the Gryffindor common room because of their win–sorry–and we all got really drunk really fast,” you explained, attempting to distribute your weight between your legs for balance. “It got really hot inside and all of my friends who were nowhere to be found, so here I am!”
Draco raised his eyebrow. “And you thought you’d walk around the castle, well after curfew, barefoot?” 
“Not barefoot,” you said, holding up your heels. “They got really loud.” 
“I’m surprised you didn’t take them off beforehand. Pansy’s always talking about how much they hurt when they wear them.” 
“I think I’m too drunk to care,” you said with a shrug. You walked by the common room entrance and dropped your heels near the wall, dropping to floor level. 
Draco watched as you slid down the wall with ease and closed your eyes for a brief moment. He watched as you tried to fix your dress to an appropriate position and chuckled when you took your hair down from its ponytail; you looked relaxed, less high strung than he was used to. 
“Are you planning on staying there all night?” Draco asked, looking at your spot on the floor. He stepped in front of you and nudged your leg with the tip of his shoes. 
“You wear Oxfords to the bathroom?” you asked, inspecting the black shoe. 
Draco rolled his eyes. “It was the only thing near enough to slip on. It’s genuine Italian leather, you know. One of the Muggle’s greatest gifts.” 
“I wasn’t aware you owned anything made by Muggles.” Draco shrugged. He stepped beside you and joined you on the floor. 
“You’ve got more to learn about me, I suppose.” 
It was quiet for a moment. You looked at the wall in front of you and your thoughts overtook your attention. It seemed as though a plethora of thoughts were racing through your mind and you were having a hard time picking one to talk about. Draco seemed to notice your absent expression and nudged your shoulder. 
“What are you thinking about?” 
“Me?” you asked.
“Yes, you,” said Draco. “You’re the only one here besides me.” 
“Oh,” you said, nodding, “yes. That’s correct.” 
“So, what are you thinking about?”
“Where do I begin?” you breathed. “I think my first qualm is about what I’m going to do after graduation. I have no bloody idea what I want to do with my life and it seems like everyone has their shit figured out.” 
“I can guarantee you that you are absolutely not alone in thinking that,” Draco said, his voice producing a slight echo in the empty hallway. 
“Second, I’m eternally grateful that I’ve persevered through all of my hardest tests.” 
“You’re the smartest girl I know,” he replied. 
You looked pensive, looking at your hands and picking at your nails. The biggest of your qualms was about your lack of experience in the love department and how awkward you felt whenever Harry, Ron, or Hermione would bring up dates or anything of the sort. Even Hermione, who was just as much of a bookworm and a stickler for rules as you were, seemed to enjoy a casual date or two every once in a while and saw no issue in sharing a kiss at parties. Yet you found yourself awkwardly sitting in your seat, unable to contribute to their conversation, forced to listen to their escapades. 
“Lastly…” you trailed off. 
“Lastly?” 
You shook your head. “It’s dumb.” Draco looked at you from where he sat and shook his head. 
“Nothing you say is dumb, Y/N.” 
“Well, I guess my last qualm is how I feel absolutely behind when it comes to relationships and I feel so stupid for being the only person I know who hasn’t held hands without it being platonic.” 
“What?” Draco asked, his eyes widening in surprise. “You’ve never had your first kiss?” 
“You don’t have to rub it in,” you frowned. He shook his head relentlessly. 
“I’m not making fun of you,” Draco reassured. “Just a bit surprised, is all.”
“Why’s that?” You looked up at him from where you sat. 
He didn’t miss a beat. “You’re very outgoing when you want to be and I can’t name a single person who’s ever said anything bad about you. You are the quintessential Ravenclaw, yes, but you adapt so easily to other people. You make people feel like they have a friend, Y/N.” 
Draco wasn’t sure if he was projecting. You were too drunk to notice. 
“I don’t know.” 
“I’m being serious.” Draco turned to look at you. “It doesn’t matter, okay?” 
“Easy for you to say that,” you scoffed. “You’ve taken Pansy to the Yule Ball loads of times and I know you’ve kissed loads of girls. Don’t even try to lie to me.”
“I know, but that doesn’t make me any better than you.” 
“But it makes you more experienced.”
“So what?” Draco asked. “Why rush yourself into these things? Who cares about this stuff when other people like you for you?” 
“I hate that this is an insecurity because I like the way I am,” you begin, “but it’s really hard to stop comparing myself to other girls when everyone I’ve grown up with has done all of these things but I haven’t.” You laugh at yourself. “I don’t think a guy has ever expressed any interest in me.” 
“That’s not true,” Draco said instantaneously. You laughed again. 
“It is though,” you replied. “I thought Dean Thomas was hitting on me but he just wanted me to help him get an A on the first exam of the year. That’s about it, really. So I’ve gathered that guys really aren’t that interested in me.” 
Draco looked at you. “Y/N, that’s not true.” 
It was quiet for a moment while you tried to understand what Draco said. He could see the gears turning in your head as you tried to decipher what he said. He knew that if it weren’t for your inebriated state, you might’ve caught onto what he said before he was about to say it. 
But you sighed and put your head on his shoulder, bringing your knees to your chest. 
“Well anyway, I just wanted to get some air. I love Gryffindors but they’re so loud.” 
Draco let out a hearty laugh and looked at you. He watched as you smiled in triumph when making him laugh, something he knew you were secretly trying to do ever since you proposed getting to know one another. 
“I really like hearing you laugh,” you said. 
“Why’s that?”
“You don’t brood as much.” 
“I do not brood.”
“Yes you do.” 
“Agree to disagree,” Draco said, recovering from his laugh. 
“I’m cold,” you said abruptly. Draco watched as you attempted to warm up by rubbing your arms with your hands. 
“Should’ve brought a jacket,” he teased. 
“Shut up,” you retorted. “We can’t all be wearing sweatpants and a turtleneck.” 
Before Draco could register what was about to happen, he put his arm around you and pulled your body close to his. 
His body is pure warmth. The hands that adorn silver rings are now warm with heat and the fabric of his turtleneck provides a bit of warmth, but the blush that sits on your cheek provides the most heat. Perhaps it’s because your ability to turn exceptionally red while drinking, but you know it’s because your thigh touched his. Without thinking much of it, you move yourself to Draco’s lap sideways with the help of liquid courage and the need to be held like you’d die if you weren’t warm. 
Draco’s eyes widened in surprise because he did not anticipate that he would be this close to you. He’s dreamt about it and fantasized about how your body would feel next to his. Draco’s gone so far as to dream about what it would feel like to hold your hand in the middle of the hallway without a care in the world, but he always thought he’d gradually build up the momentum before you found your way onto his lap. 
But Draco didn’t push you off. He put his arm around you and used his free hand to caress the side of your cheek, brushing stray strands of hair from your face. 
“That feels really good,” you said, your eyes looking up at Draco in bliss. 
“Yeah?” He cooed softly. 
“Yeah,” you replied. 
“You’ve never held hands before?” Draco asked. 
You shook your head. “Not romantically.” 
Draco dropped his hand from your cheek and lifted your own, intertwining your fingers with his.  
“You’ve never held hands like this?” 
You shook your head again. 
“Not like this,” you whispered. 
Draco smiled at your bashful expression, liking the way you’ve gone slack against his body. He liked that you were trying to hide a smile by biting your lip and liked the way you buried your face into his chest when you caught him looking at you. 
“Don’t get bashful on me now, Y/N,” Draco laughed. 
“I’m shy,” you mumbled into his chest. 
“My shy girl,” he said, squeezing your hand. 
He didn’t think life could get any sweeter than that. He looked down at you and watched as your eyes flickered from his eyes down to his lips, and followed the voice in his head that told him to kiss you. 
Draco put his lips on yours and wondered why he hadn’t done that sooner. 
+++
When Hermione realized you were missing, she panicked and asked Ron and Harry if they’d seen you. Feeling guilty for briefly leaving you to say hello to a friend, and subsequently forgetting to introduce the two of you because of her equally intoxicated state, Hermione looked around the common room before marching her way into her dormitory. Your presence is gone and Hermione’s heart was pounding with regret, wanting nothing more than to apologize to you. 
She found her way to the Ravenclaw common room, asking Cho if you had come back from the party. Cho, who almost always knew if you were in your room or not, told Hermione that you hadn’t come back and assumed you were with her. Hermione thanked Cho for her time and chose to walk throughout the castle to look for you.
You were nowhere to be found. Hermione first tried to find you in your favorite spots to no avail and was about to give up, opting to apologize to you when you were both sober in the morning, when she heard voices from the opposite hallway. 
Quietly, Hermione peered around the corner and watched as you sat on Draco’s lap. She could barely hear the two of you talking through hushed whispers. Hermione watched Draco’s hand stroke your hair while your body rested on his chest. You toyed with his free hand, inspecting his fingers as you spoke. 
Hermione was nearly ready to make her presence known from the corner she was hiding in until she heard Draco laugh boisterously at something you had said, his head hitting the back wall from trying to catch his breath. You smiled up at him in awe and watched as he failed to quiet himself, and when Draco had caught his breath, he pulled you in for a quick embrace. Hermione watched as you looked at him as if he had painted the stars in the sky for you. 
When classes resumed the following week, you had been accompanied by Harry, Ron, and Hermione after spending lunch in the Great Hall. 
“Hey, Y/N!” Draco shouted from behind you. The four of you turned your head until Draco pulled you by the hand towards himself and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. Harry and Ron gasped, unsure of how to react to their best friend kissing Draco.
When Draco ultimately pulled away, he gave your hand a squeeze and went in for another brief kiss. 
“Come sit with me at dinner?” he asked. 
“Of course,” you said, squeezing his hand. He smiled at you before turning to address your friends. 
“Harry, Ron, Hermione,” he said, nodding at the three of them. Hermione waved politely as Harry and Ron looked at him walking away. 
“What in the hell…” Ron trailed off. 
“You and Malfoy?” Harry asked. 
“If you two used your eyes, you’d see that she and Draco have been pining after each other for so long,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes before looking at you. “Daft, I tell you.” 
“Keep it up, Y/N,” said Ron. “I want him to be nice to me all the time.” 
“Boys,” you muttered. 
But you didn’t want to change a single thing.
345 notes · View notes
teklarn · 3 years
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hi, this is my first ever ask so I'm not sure I'm doing this correctly, if that's the case I'm sorry; I don't know how tumblr works just yet >:')
would it be possible for you to write something about bakugo, pining incredibly hard for fem!reader and initially hating how strongly he feels about her? because they're not even friends, they only exchange few words occasionally and she doesn't even glance at his way whereas he slowly finds himself unable to divert his eyes from her during classes? shes always with damn deku and his friends and doesn't even seem interested in him at all but his heart can't ignore the way she looks at him proudly whenever they spar together, the way she sends him small confident smiles as they fight each other with all they have; so he thinks that maybe, maybe he might have a chance. basically bakugo liking reader so much he's completely lost in self-hatred because he always thought feelings were for weak romantics and not great people like him, but everytime he sees reader doing some badass things (again, like sparring with him and basically matching his skills etc...) he's reminded of how badly he likes reader? but when he finally accepts he's fallen for reader, after ignoring and trying to forget about how she makes him feel, he masters up the courage to confess? and it's a very clumsy confession because he's awkward and has no idea how to deal with those feelings? and he tries so hard to make reader realise he's never been more serious than now? and reader is startled and speechless before rejecting him? and at that point he's just completely humiliated, so he nods and walks away.
it might be a little dramatic but I've always been into unrequited love and one-sided pining. thank you, its okay if you don't want to write about this, i'll understand <33
𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾
character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader (my hero academia) 
reblogs are greatly appreciated! 
a/n: AHHHHH this is so cute <33 honestly this is super exciting for me and this ask made me so happy, lovey. i’m fairly new to tumblr, i’m usually just a reader but i wanted to migrate here from wattpad so this made me so happy. here u are my love <33 i hope this lives up to what u wanted !! :)) a bit lengthy, but i had a lot of fun writing it !!! 
summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 
genre: fluffy, fluffier than the clouds istg, however the clouds are sprinking a little teeny weeny droplet of angst. 
warnings: cursing (bakugou, duhh), one-sided pining (on bakugou’s part) second hand embarrassment (on bakugou’s part bc we can all agree he’s a complete idiot when it comes to trying to get someone’s attention), just bakugou being a jackass, i gave the reader a quirk 
word count: 3,859 
(pls excuse any typos or mistakes, i edited to the best of my ability but i miss some things sometimes !) 
- - - 
part 2 is here my loves <3
brutal. it was utterly ruthless. he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think right. his hands were already exceptionally sweaty, but gosh when he saw your damn face, he was ready to explode. literally. 
what the hell was it about you? was it your stupid smile? or the way you just seemed to carry every battle on your back? was it all the undeniably sweet things you do for others ‘just because’? 
it made him angry that he thought about you, but gosh he couldn’t wait to see you every day. 
just like any other day, bakugou found himself staring at the large door to the classroom, awaiting the moment you would bounce into his day, skirt shifting around your legs, bag slung loosely around your shoulders. 
his leg was bouncing eagerly. 
bakugou didn’t know when the feelings came. his cheeks just started flaring up all of a sudden and one day you just looked...different. you hadn’t done anything different to yourself. it was just him. not that he would ever admit that, to you or anybody else. 
you were insufferable. you were stupid and obnoxious and so...so damn... 
“y/n! come look at this!” 
you’d come walking into class just as expected, and as soon as you did, that stupid nerd had called you over. 
it didn’t help that deku sat right behind him, either. the two of you had recently gotten closer. bakugou noticed it last month when he yelled at the two of you to shut up about all might and get to work. he’d turned around to find you leaning over deku, hands resting on his shoulders while you peered at his phone. 
“sorry, bakugou,” you’d said, barely acknowledging him. you had waved him off like an annoying fly. is that all you were to him? some nuisance that got in the way of your oh-so-entertaining conversations with deku? 
all he heard nearly every day was your chipper voice talking to deku. always, “oh my gosh, midoriya, did you see the fight edgeshot was in last night?” or “midoriya! i have something to add to our quirk analysis book!” 
that was the one that took the cake. you two dorks shared a notebook, occasionally passed between one another, and filled it with junk about quirks and pro heroes. but no matter how much he tried to tune you out, no matter how he tried to zone off and think about something else, you were always there. it made him want to vomit how much he thought about you. 
you were doing an adorable shuffle over to midoriya’s desk and leaned over the table as you usually did while he angled his phone your way. “did you see this hero report?” 
deku let you slip the phone out of his grasp to get a better look. 
“no,” you breathed. “was this just recent?” 
“yeah,” deku said, taking the phone back. “last night.” 
“holy—” 
“can you guys shut up over there?” bakugou said, his voice quaking. 
“sorry, kacchan.” deku scrolled through the article. 
dammit, bakugou thought. “i wasn’t talking to you, nerd. i was talking to shitface over here.” he jerked his head towards you. his eyes flared in anger when he saw you were looking down at your phone, now focused in on the article yourself. “i was talking to you, asshat!” 
your eyes flicked up to his. you looked around for a moment before slowly pointing to yourself as if to say, “me?” 
his face scrunched. “yeah, you. you’re so damn loud.” gosh, he hated how his voice was cracking, how he could feel his ears and cheeks lighting up in a swollen, cherry red. his stomach flipped. 
she’s looking at you, gosh i’m sweating. i’m going to throw up. she’s so gorgeous. what the hell? they’re ugly as shit, i don’t think anything of them. 
his eyes bore into yours. 
“did you...need something?” 
your voice broke his trance. 
“kacchan, are you okay? you dozed off there for a second. you look like you’re burning up.” 
bakugou looked to deku who was currently stretching out of his seat, arm extended. he pressed the back of his hand to bakugou’s forehead. “you’re really warm, kacchan. should we call recovery girl?” 
it took him a moment to realize what was happening. his vision got blurry every time he was with you. bakugou smacked deku’s hand away. “i’m fine!” his voice lifted at the end, cracking. “i’m not sick. don’t you think i’d take better care of myself?” 
“i don’t doubt you take good care of yourself, kacchan, but everyone gets sick once in a while. there’s nothing wrong with that.” 
“i never get sick!” besides, if i got sick, i wouldn’t want you to be the one taking care of me. 
he was still pissed. he was always in a bad mood, however, more so right now because you’d gone straight back to your phone and that stupid hero article that was supposedly so damn interesting. 
soon enough, the bell rang, and you were seated at your desk. it was jirou’s old spot, however, after much convincing, you two had switched spots so you could be closer to deku. just a few months of getting close to the idiot and you two are suddenly best friends. jirou hadn’t minded one tiny bit, claiming she needed a break from how loud that section of the room was. 
late as always, aizawa came trudging into your room. thankfully, his entire body wasn’t obscured by a yellow sleeping bag that smelled of something unwashed and coffee and gasoline. (for some reason, aizawa’s clothes always smelled of it.) 
“lucky for you,” he began while shuffling papers on his desk, “all of you are doing training for these first periods.”
the class cheered in perfect unison, followed by their individual chatter. you had erupted with glee along with them, and bakugou was sure he felt his heart clench and then explode. just a tiny bit. but he shoved the feeling down just as quickly as it had come up. 
“go out to the field and wait for further instructions. don’t make a sound in the halls otherwise, i’ll expel all of you.” 
this shut everyone up in almost a second, the sound draining out just as water does. the first years trailed out into the hall, single-file mimicking the positions baby ducklings would take when following their mother. 
bakugou found himself walking faster when he saw you take up your spot in the line, hoping to land his spot right behind you. 
unfortunately, this idiot who considered himself bakugou’s friend tugged him back. “bakugou!” a familiar voice rasped. 
“shitty hair, let go of me.” 
“hey man, chill out. wanna partner up if we’re doing training in pairs?” 
bakugou glanced at the line, the spot that should have been reserved for him now taken up by sato. 
bakugou tugged his sleeve from kirishima’s hand. “whatever,” he snapped. 
“sounds good!” kirishima flashed him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up. the bubbly feeling in bakugou’s chest died down as he stood behind sato, the overwhelming scent of sugar filling his nose, various candies that would go straight to your arteries. 
“you smell like ass, damn,” bakugou remarked, squeezing his nostrils together. 
luckily, sato was tall enough to not hear the insult, as he towered over bakugou by just another head. the line began moving like a sloppy train down to the change rooms. 
bakugou scoffed as he listened to your giggle. he should be making you laugh. 
“you’ll be given partners randomly from this box.” aizawa held up a familiar red box. “inside are all your names. i’ll select one, then that person will come up and pick another name from the box. that will be your assigned partner for today. as soon as you have your assigned partner, i want you guys to get straight to work.” 
denki raised a hand, speaking before being called on. “sensei, why are we getting random partners? we’re always allowed to choose.” 
“in the real world, you’re going to come across different villains every day. you’ll never improve your skills or your quirks if you keep fighting the same person.” 
denki sighed, slumping back. 
dammit, bakugou thought, gritting his teeth together. there wasn’t any way he wanted to be partners with you. it’s obvious he’d win the fight in the first few seconds. 
yes! exactly right! bakugou internally grinned. his fluctuating feelings had finally soothed themselves. you were just another extra, and he had no room for you in his head. 
aizawa took a moment to fiddle with the slips of paper inside the box. soon enough, he pulled out a name. “todoroki.” 
todoroki walked up, digging his hand into the box when aizawa held it out for him. he pulled out a name, delicately unraveling the slip. “uraraka, you’re my partner.” he deadpanned. 
the brunette grinned. “great!” 
the two found their own spot on the field, and the class’s attention was once again diverted to their grouchy teacher as he pulled out another name. 
“bakugou.” 
bakugou strutted up without a worry in his mind. he pulled a name to find... 
“y/n,” he said, voice a low growl. instead of the annoying fluttering in his chest, his eyes met yours, and they were filled with a different, new ferocity. he crumpled the paper in one hand, letting it twirl to the ground. 
you looked at him, unsmiling. your eyes gave away nothing, and to bakugou’s knowledge, all you saw in him was another opponent. 
it took him a moment to realize you had both locked eyes for about a minute. perhaps the two of you would have stayed as you were if aizawa hadn’t snapped at the two of you to get moving as yaomomo’s name was called. 
bakugou was on his way to the back of the field, you followed close behind. while there was plenty of room still, he chose a secluded area. while it was still open enough to view everything going on so nobody got hurt, it was often nobody chose to train here. for whatever reason, you weren’t sure. 
“wait up, bakugou,” you said. after a bit, you caught up to him. 
“if you can’t keep up, then...” then what? he looked at you from the side of his eye. “then don’t keep up...” gosh, here came the embarrassing, disgusting feeling of redness in his cheeks. 
you laughed. “what?” 
“shut up.” 
“you’re an idiot, bakugou.” 
“i said shut the hell up!”
“what, so you can call me shitface in front of the entire class but you get all pissed when i call you an idiot?” 
so you had heard him! 
he tongued his cheek, curling his hands around an invisible ball, explosions sparking in the centers of his palms. “don’t expect me to hold back, dumbass.” 
“i wouldn’t dream of it.” 
gosh he loved that about you. 
bakugou caught his thought in the air. 
ahem...gosh he hated that about you. 
you both charged in at the same time. his cry was louder than yours, but you struck first. 
he admired your quirk. while he’d overhead you explaining all the drawbacks it had, it was strong, and you were strong because you knew how to control it. 
purple arrows flew from your arms, going in your desired directions. if you lost focus for one moment, they’d vanish and weaken. if you focused too hard or long, you’d be plagued by a splitting headache. 
he’d spent too much time obsessing over your strengths and weaknesses.  
your arrows were weightless, however they were solid objects capable of carrying any mass, any thing, and worked as extensions of your body. 
the violet arrow had shot out at him, twisting around his right gauntlet and crushing inwards. it’d snaked around him without him noticing, slithering along his back. 
bakugou struggled to get the air-light arrow off his wrist, but it was no use. he glared back, only to see your focused, furrowed brows. he’d expected to see your cocky ass smiling. it was nice to see you weren’t. 
that was one thing that had also caught his eye. you never underestimate your opponent, but you never underestimate yourself, either. 
you conjured a larger arrow. it snaked around your right arm as you hurled bakugou into the air, releasing your grasp on him. you shot your other arrow into the air, and it raced into the sky. 
it swerved. bakugou’s eyes went wide as the tip of the arrow came down on his chest. if they weren’t intangible things, he would have been bleeding out. 
another drawback: the arrows, while they could solidify, they couldn’t do any actual damage. you had to use your surroundings to inflict harm on your opponent. 
he coughed out as the arrow shot him into the ground. he hadn’t even touched you, and here he was, vulnerable and so...so... 
you stood over him, hands on your hips. 
vulnerable and so lost in that adorable, winning smile. 
“get away from me, idiot,” he grunted and turned onto his side, his back crying out in pain. 
“i think i won this fight, bakugou,” you chirped, rocking on your heels. 
“don’t get arrogant, shithead. you won’t be winning against me anymore.” 
you grinned, arrows shooting out behind your back. 
the dorms were exceptionally quiet. you were typing away in the common room, bakugou on the couch reading. everyone was off doing something else. it was the weekend, luckily. he’d expected you to go bounding out with everyone else, however you’d stayed back, claiming you had some homework to catch up on. 
bakugou being classic bakugou had stayed back. he was excited to have the dorm to himself, but your dumbass was stuck here with him. couldn’t you have done your typing in your room? 
you were so aggressive on that poor keyboard. 
“oi, quiet down with your shit typing.” 
you barely grunted in response. 
“don’t ignore me.” 
“i heard you, mom.” 
“the hell did you call me?” 
no response. only your aggressive typing is a bit less aggressive. 
“i can still hear it,” bakugou remarked, eyes fixed on your back. 
“‘kay,” you said. your typing slowed a tad, and your pressure on the keys lessened. 
it was quiet now. bakugou should go back to his book. he shouldn’t still be looking for a reason to talk to you. 
the pages crinkled in his fingers. he bit his tongue, keeping his snarky comments in. 
“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? doing your damn homework. it’s due tomorrow.” 
you turned, pursing your lips. “and how would you know what i’m working on? are you stalking me?” 
“i- what? no. you’re such an idiot, of course i’m not—” 
“i’m messing with you,” you breathed, face un-moving. 
“o-oh,” bakugou stuttered out. he blinked awkwardly. 
“gosh, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?” 
“you’re annoying.” 
“you’re a jackass.” you returned to your work. bakugou settled with reading in his room. reading consisted of jumping onto his bed just as the stereotypical high school girl would in an eighties movie. he buried his face in his pillow, face burning bright red. he cursed you for making him feel this way, and hated himself even more for how much he enjoyed it. 
the next day came swiftly. you’d left early to go train with midoriya. there were many improvements needed to be made, but you weren’t doing too bad.
you propelled yourself forwards with an arrow, and your green-haired friend shot back, lightning flickering around his body. 
landing back on the ground, you panted and swiped the sweat from your brow. from the corner of your eye, you could make out both kirishima and bakugou coming to the training grounds. 
bakugou stopped in his tracks, frowning at the sight of you. 
it was evident he hated you a bit more than everyone else. he was always making his annoying comments, he was always snubbing you. you saw no reason to talk to him, so you didn’t. either way, even if you tried, he would still get angry for no reason. 
it’d taken you quite some time to get used to his obnoxious attitude. tuning him out had been the best course of action, in your opinion. 
the way you and midoriya had bonded was through bakugou, in a way. the first day of school, bakugou had snapped at you for tripping over your laces and nearly crashing into him. later that day, midoriya had stepped up and apologized for his old friend’s actions. 
you two had never been too close until now. the recent incidents going on with the league of villains had snagged your attention, and it seemed you were the only person who didn’t mind listening to him ramble on about heroes. 
you were just as passionate and just as dorky, but midoriya could talk your ear off. you never minded, and he always took the hint when you didn’t want to listen. 
you brought your leg up, twirling in the air with ease and watched your heel collide with midoriya’s face. he grunted, stumbling back. 
you were about to charge in again when a hand landed on your shoulder, big and rough. you turned to see bakugou standing behind you, a scowl on his face. 
“fight me again,” he demanded. 
“excuse me?” 
“don’t act like you didn’t hear me.” 
“i’m in the middle of fighting midoriya right now.” 
“so?”
“so if you think that i’m just going to ditch my friend because you want to fight, i won’t.” 
“you’re being stubborn.” 
“i’m being reasonable. back off.” 
“y/n?” midoriya rubbed his jaw—right where you had struck him. “what’s going on?” he jogged up to you and bakugou. 
“he wants to fight me in the middle of our fight. it’s nothing serious. don’t worry about it, midoriya. let’s just ignore him.” 
bakugou made a sound someone would only make if they were choking. “the hell did you just say?” 
“we’re ignoring you!” you waved him off and placed your hand on midoriya’s shoulder, wandering away. 
-
it was new to him, not getting what he wanted. and what he wanted right now was to be around you. again, it wasn’t like he would ever admit that to himself. 
“dude? you good? i thought you went off to fight y/n. i was so ready to cheer you on, dude,” kirishima’s chipper voice piped in. “she’s not fighting with you? why not?” 
“the dumbass was just probably scared of getting her ass beat by me.” 
“dude...that sounds really weird.” 
“whatever, shitty hair. let’s go.” 
the clock ticked. his ears were on fire. again. 
gosh, it was happening again. it was all you. his face scrunched up, his voice would surely crack if someone were to ask him what was wrong. 
bakugou was once again stuffing his face in his pillow, hiding his expression from no one. why did you have to go train with that shitty nerd? why were you always around deku? deku, of all people. what did he have? why was he so great? 
bakugou was a man of many insecurities, but losing to deku? that was possibly his biggest fear. 
perhaps he wasn’t the nicest, or the most soft person out there. bakugou could admit that, at least. but he was smarter than deku. he was stronger and he was better and people liked him more. right? 
what was so...amazing about deku? 
it was often bakugou would find himself obsessing over little, insignificant things such as these. 
you were what he was thinking of most of the time. just yesterday, he’d gotten a test returned. he was expecting an eighty at the lowest, but more so expecting a high ninety. it’d come back exactly sixty percent. 
sixty. percent.
bakugou vividly remembered staring at your face. he also remembered not being able to focus because of it. his grades were dropping because of you. 
you were the only person to be able to do this to him. 
his heart grew quiet, but the pounding of his didn’t cease. he lifted his head. 
“alright, fine,” he said aloud. “you win, y/n. you win.” 
he settled with getting over his feelings the way he’d read them in his collection of romance manga. 
bakugou left his room and knocked on your door. (he was banging on it, but it was his nice way of knocking.) 
you answered, looking around awkwardly. “yes?” 
his hands shook. how was this supposed to go? sure, he’d seen it in romance movies and read it in books but it was always easy to tell whether the guy would get the girl or not. 
in this instance, bakugou was clueless. for once in his life, he was clueless. you stood, tapping your foot with a hand on your hip, waiting expectantly for him to tell you why he was here. 
“um.” he scratched behind his neck. “you uh- i uh...i’m sorry i called you a, um...a shitface.” 
“okay? is that it?” 
what? come on! it was already unlike him to apologize. what else did you want from him? 
“did you...i’ve been thinking, maybe? maybe we could..train together as...friends?”  
“...what?” 
gosh dammit, as friends? 
“whatever, um...the uh...” oh gosh, what did the boys do in all the books he’d read? right! bakugou stretched out his arm, resting his forearm on the door, leaning to the side. 
although he didn’t, really, because like the clumsy jackass he was, bakugou missed completely and nearly toppled to the floor. 
this earned a snicker from you. 
his stomach flipped and churned, and bakugou found himself unable to reach your eyes. “uh, would you maybe..? okay, um. do you want to go on a date with me? you absolute fucking dumbass.” 
your eyes flew wide. “...what?” 
“no, that’s not what i— i mean i didn’t mean the last part. um, i meant the first part. the first two parts. the part where i was asking you if you wanted to go on a date with me and then before that when i said maybe because it’s still a maybe until you say yes. or...or no because that’s an option too.” 
he swallowed. 
you resisted the urge to mock him, just a little bit. “um, bakugou, listen.” 
he leaned closer. “yes?” 
“it’s going to be a no. i’m sorry, but i’m just not interested in you like that.” 
it took him a moment to register everything. his shoulders sagged. gosh that was brutal. 
“oh, alright.” 
“yeah, uh, sorry about that.” you offered him a weak smile, still a bit shocked yourself. he did his best to return it, and when you closed the door, his face was ready to explode. 
it was so damn difficult to deal with these feelings, but maybe it was better this way. knowing where you stood on your end, he knew he wouldn’t miss out on anything. 
perhaps it was alright to admire from afar. things could happen in the future, right? 
right now, he’d just wait. for a long, long time. bakugou pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat. maybe it was alright to not have you right now. perhaps he could better himself for you. just for you. 
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wolfs-hunt1 · 4 years
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Wolf Kisses 2
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Pairing: Stucky x Shapeshifter reader
Summary: Steve and Bucky find out the truth and end up trying to help (I can’t do summaries, I still have no idea what to write here)
Word count: 2048
Warnings: angsty,  sorry for any typo
A/N: Still not sure where I want to take this XD, but I’m enjoying writing this fic a lot, so until I feel like it isn’t over I’ll keep making some more chapters. Can’t guarantee another one for next monday, because university is about to start, but I’ll try not to take too long.
THANK YOU ALL so much for the suport you have giving this story! I love you all!!!
Tag list is OPEN
— — — — —
Part 1
Bucky buries his head further into a warm neck, inhaling deeply the foreign scent. Bucky doesn’t remember Steve ever having a mild fruity scent on him. He holds the body closer, long locks of hair getting tangled on his fingers. Ok now his sleep heavy mind knows something is wrong, Steve’s hair was short. His mind starts to wake up more, body stirring slowly until he can stand to open his eyes is the barely-there sunlight.
The sight before him made him real back a bit, hand reaching for the knife he kept hidden under his pillow. A woman was nestled in their bed, previously curling herself around bucky’s body, but once he got away, she curled into Steve’s seeking the warmth they radiated.
“Hey…” he whispers, shaking her shoulder for a few seconds. No answer at all. so he tried again, this time a bit louder “Hey, you…” this actually makes Steve stir in his sleep, arms tightening around the girl’s middle and pulling her head into the crock of his neck.
“What Buck…” he grumbles still asleep.
“Steve wake up.” Bucky sais now more forcefully making Steve open his eyes and look at the girl in his arms, alarmed when he doesn’t recognize her. With all the commotion the girl also wakes up, stretching a bit and looking blearily up at the two towering super-soldiers surrounding her. Then her eyes trail to the knife Bucky’s pointing at her and she scrambles out of the best so fast she gets her legs tangled in the sheets and falls, crawling the rest of the way until her back is flush to the window.
She’s breathing hard, hands raised in defense. She looks so tiny tucked in a ball in the corner of their room. Steve looks at the girl and then the knife and puts a hand softly on Bucky’s arm, silently telling him to put it away.
Bucky looks at her, taking in her appearance, and suddenly stops. Her leg was wrapped in bandages, the same leg the wolf had had her bandages. He looks at her eyes, questions zooming past in his head. ‘what did this mean? who is she? where is the wolf?’
“Ok, let’s calm down.” Steve tried to dissipate the electrically charged room, slowly climbing out of the bed and reaching for some sweatpants to put on. Bucky didn’t move from the spot, gaze locked on her, and making her shrink more into herself. From where he stood it looked like she was trying to melt into the glass. He could see Steve approached her softly, like one would a sacred animal, a shirt in his extended hand for her to take. She pulled the shirt down her head and hips, making sure all her body was covered in the oversized fabric. “What’s your name?” Steve tried to keep his voice soft, but even he was confused with what was happening.
“Y/N.” her voice was gruff and small like she hadn’t used it for months, and she had to clear her throat to make herself heard.
“How did you got here?” Steve asks, sitting in the corner of the bed to seem less intimidating to the poor girl.
“You… you brought me here.” her eyes are cast downwards, but she can still see Bucky’s scowl appear on his face. “I’m sorry….” she whispers.
“What do you mean we brought you here?”
“I'm… I’m a shapeshifter.” once neither of them said anything she continued, “I can turn into a wolf. ”
“Oh… you didn’t have to hide you know?” Steve said.
“Being hurt prevented me from shifting back, so I’ve been a wolf for this past week. I must have shifted back during the night…”
“So you’ve lied to us…” Bucky shoots, making you look up at him startled.
“I didn’t lie, I couldn’t even speak! I was being hunted, I ran for shelter. I didn’t ask for you guys to help me, I appreciate it though, but you can’t accuse me of lying.”
“Buck, calm down, let’s all try and get everything straightened up, without accusing anyone.” Bucky glared at him for a full minute before relenting and getting up from the bed, moving to the bathroom to get dressed.“Why don’t you join us downstairs for breakfast? We can talk better after a cup of coffee.” he offered you a kind simile with those words, and after considering it for a moment you relented and got up, leg still a bit sore.
Steve gave you some gym shorts for you to wear, despite having to tie the laces a bit better so they wouldn’t fall, and Bucky came out of the bathroom, fully clothed and a glare directed at you making you look at anywhere but him.
The kitchen was awfully silent, the only sounds were of the coffee pot dripping, and of the pancakes, Steve was flipping at the stove. You were awkwardly sitting at the stool behind the island counter, Bucky in front of you not saying a word, but you could see the war waging through his eyes.
The atmosphere was suffocating, and making your skin crawl with anxiety. “Look…” you started, “I know I should have said anything sooner, I’m sorry. But the fewer people that know my secret the safer I am.”
“What did you mean you were being hunted?” those are the first words Bucky has uttered in what seems like forever, and so you look at him to give him all of your attention, less he goes back to silently throw daggers at you.
“I… I haven’t seen my family in years. We were a small community of shapeshifters, just living our lives without hurting anyone until they came. Hydra. They burnt our houses to the ground. Killed anyone that tried to protect themselves and captured the rest.” your voice is cracking and so you take a deep breath to ground yourself before you continue. “I managed to run away, and I’ve been running ever since. I’ve been using that cabin whenever I need to recover from any wounds, I had no idea you were going to be there. I… I have been spotted a couple of weeks ago by a poacher. He saw me while I was out hunting, and he started to lay down traps to get me. A giant wolf’s pelt must be worth a lot.”
Steve had plated the pancakes and had put a plate in front of you while you were talking. When you finished and looked at them, he smiled and nodded his head to the place of food in front of you, encouraging you to eat something. You say a small thanks and take small bites from the buttery pancake.
“How did you managed to get stuck on a trap?” Bucky is silently taking in your words.
“After weeks of avoiding him and his traps he started to get more violent. He would hide loaded guns ready to fire with tripwires, he would burry the traps under the snow, he even tried to starve me by scaring away any prey I tried to hunt. In the end, it was the exhaustion of not having sleep in days and my hunger that made me lose focus, I stepped on a trap and panicked, I managed to break the chain and get away from there.
I reached the house to take shelter, honestly, I don’t know what I would do without you guys… I wouldn’t be able to turn back, so I would have just bled to death probably.”
“Hydra killed your family?” his voice is laced with anger and you can see the vein on his jaw thick, his metal fist is closed so tightly that if it were flesh the nails would have pierced the skin.
“They captured most of them. They wanted to use us for their own gains. Once our alpha refused to let them use us, they came back with guns and took them by force. They killed him right in front of me… They killed my father because he refused to stop protecting his pack.” you could feel the tears in your eyes spilling down your cheeks, shaky sobs being swallowed down so you wouldn’t be rendered to a blubbering mess in front of the two guys.
They let her stay up in their apartment, away from Tony and the experiments he had wanted to do to her wolf self. Bucky keeps his distance, he had felt like she had betrayed him, by hiding who she was, but at the same time, he understood why. She was on the run from hydra, for what she knew they could have tracked her to the cabin and took her.
They weren’t so surprised with what she was, Inhumans had been on shields radar for a long time, so having an entire population be able to turn into wolfs wasn’t such a big deal. The fact that hydra had hunted them and captured them, now that was alarming. Bucky had been silently devising an attack plan to try and find where they had been taken to after they were captured to go with a team to recover them. He knew what suffering at the hands of hydra felt like, and he didn’t want them to have to experience more of that if he could avoid it.
Steve had been talking to her all day, asking questions about her life on the run, and her wolf form, and the fact that she’s been living away neer that cabin for weeks now, with the only human contact she’s had, had been the poacher trying to kill her.
He’s startled from his thinking when he feels her hand on his shoulder, silently questioning if she could sit with him on the small sofa. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to keep apologizing.”
“No, no I do need. You two helped me without thinking twice, and I just used you both to keep me safe from the poacher. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was scared he would just have followed me and would kill me during the night. So I went to try and sleep on the floor of the cabin’s bedroom.”
“Really? I distinctly remember you hopping on the bed and trying to steal the blankets.” he jokes prompting her to shove him lightly with her shoulder.
“It was freezing in there, and you two are human heaters. So yeah, I also took advantage of that. Besides I didn’t hear you complaining, if anything I was almost going to die if you squeezed me any tighter while you were asleep, I might be fluffy, but I’m not a teddy bear you know?” this makes Steve laugh loudly, holding his shaking sides to try and not fall from his perch on the barstool.
“He doesn’t want to admit it, but he really likes to cuddle while asleep!” he wheezes out between fleeting breaths. You look at Bucky in time to see his red cheeks before he turns his face away from the two of you, grumbling something under his breath.
“Well guys, it’s getting late, I’ll take the couch, and then tomorrow you can let Tony know that his test subject has run away, and then I can just sneak out of the tower and I won’t bother you ever again.
“NO!” Bucky says a bit to fast startling both you and Steve. “I mean, you don’t need to leave. If you stay we can help you find your family.”
“Buck’s right. We’ve been hunting down Hydra bases for a while now, and if we do find where your family has been taken we can save them.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t give me hope with something you don’t know you can do. We don’t know if they can be save let alone if they are even still alive.”
“Hey…” Steve sais, getting up from the stool and coming to where you had stood up and started pacing, running his hand in your back comfortingly. “Yes, we don’t know that. But if there’s the smallest chance that we can find them, I think we should take it.” his baby blue eyes held a strength you had long thought lost, but they were enough to ground you and give you some hope.
Part 3
Tags:  @hidden-treasures21 @jelly-fishy-babie @thedarkplume @fallenoutofrose @animegirlgeeky @salveangeli @lokilokilokilokilokiloki
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kilibaggins · 4 years
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J.M ~ Truth Or Dare
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Request Rules!
Request: Merry (late) Christmas! I was wondering if I could request a John Murphy x biFem reader? Back on the Ark (if that’s ok) and Murphy has no idea she’s Bi so while playing truth or dare Murphy ask her what’s the one thing she’s never told her and she gets nervous thinking he would accept her but she was wrong. So angst and fluff if that’s fine:)
Authors Note: Hey! So, I assumed that this: "she gets nervous thinking he would accept her" as a typo, and you meant to write "wouldn't". Sorry if that wasn't a typo. Also, Merry late Christmas to you, too!
ALSO ALSO LOOK AT THE PRETTY GIF HES SO CUTE I MADE THE GIF MYSELF AND JUST SISJSNSJEBJ
Warnings: Murphy's Mom is Mentioned, Readers Parents are Dead, Technically Child Neglect because it mentioned the adults of the Ark not caring about kids who are alone, and I think that's it?
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“Truth or dare, Murphy.” You say, sitting back against the wall of his small room. You think of it as his room, because it’s a very small abandoned room on a side of the Ark that barely anyone goes to. He found it a few months ago, and in a desperate attempt to stop living with his mother, he has moved into it. It has the smallest bed known to man, and He barely fits on it without hanging off of it by his limbs. He’s also been known to fall off of it, but he insists it’s fine. He sighs and sits across from you, leaning against the bedside.
“Really, Y/N ?” Murphy asks, raising an eyebrow at you. You scoff and readjust, getting into a more comfortable position. You gesture at him and he chuckles. “Fine. Dare.” He says and you smirk.
“I dare you to... “ You look around the small room trying to think of something to dare. On the Ark, there's really not much that can be done. You think of something simple, yet it’ll annoy th eshit out of Murphy, So it’s perfect. “I dare you to give me some of your food every time you get some for the next two weeks.” You say, a huge grin on your face. He sighs exasperatedly and lets his head fall back behind him on the bed.
“Damn.” He sighs, and you laugh. You watch him for a moment, honestly ready to take it back if he is really against it, but when he moves his head back up to look at you he’s smiling, and that’s all the reassurance you need.
“Alright, asshole, ask me.” You say, smirking. He chuckles, grabs one of his shirts, and throws it at you. You laugh as it hits you and you throw it back. “Fuck you.” You laugh.
“Truth or Dare, Y/N ?” He asks, and you think about it for a minute, before deciding.
“Truth.” you say, and he smirks before leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees.
“What is one thing about yourself that you have never told me before.” He asks, and you think for a moment. You search through your head for anything you haven't told him other than the big secret. At this point, you two have been friends for years, ever since you were kids, Hell even since before Murphy’s father died. So, along the way you have opened up about almost everything.
Except for the fact you’re bisexual, that is.
You look at him for a few minutes, and then at your feet. You know realistically that Murphy is your best friend and he’ll most likely support who you are, but after one kid in the past being extremely homophobic, you weren’t entirley sure. You look back up at him, and he’s looking at you with a slightly worried face. He cares about you. The Ark is merciless, The adults don’t really care about what happens to the kids, especially those with no parents like yourself. They didn’t give any extra assistance and really just expects kids to be able to take care of themselves, even as early as 7. You’ve been alone since you were 12, so it’s been almost 4 years, and in that time the only extra help you got was an extra ration the week your parents got floated, and Murphy. Murphy has been here the whole time, and he has always helped you. It started with his mother helping, but then she started getting too drunk to care, so it merged into only Murphy caring, but you didn’t mind. You know even if you didn’t dare him to give you some food, he would have.
This is Murphy, of course he’ll support me. You think, as you feel yourself sweat slightly. Murphy is still looking at you in worry.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me an-”
“Shut up! I'm working up the courage, I need you to stop talking.” You say quickly, and he smiles softly, having heard the sentence ‘I need you to stop talking’ Hundreds of times. You rub your hands together and look back into his eyes.
“I’m Bisexual.” You say quickly, and then you feel the weight on your shoulders that should be smaller, grow larger. Murphy looks at you in confusion before nodding softly.
“Uh, Okay…” He says, confused. You feel the weight leave slightly.
“Are you confused?” You ask, and honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if he has never even heard of it before considering how isolated he is. He nods softly, obviously feeling stupid about it.
“Yeah, I don’t know what that is, but I bet it’s not as bad as you think it is.” Murphy says, and you feel yourself smile softly.
“It uh… It means I’m attracted to men... and women.” You say, looking at him. He looks at you in shock and then looks like he realized something.
“Well, shit.” He says, his tone filled with laughter. “That’s what it’s called?” He asks, and you nod, confusion taking you over as you wait for his reaction.
“Yeah.” You say, trying not to say much in fear you’ll cry. If he doesn’t support you, your life would honestly be ruined, and others might think it’s dumb to think you rlife is completley ruined if he doesn’t support you, but Murphy is your best friend, and has been for years. He’s one of the only good things up here anymore.
“Me too, then I guess.” He says suddenly, and you look at him in shock. You feel your brain basically short-circuit as you look at him, and you feel your stress tears fall from your eyes. He looks at you in worry and quickly moves forward, wiping the tears away.
“Fuck, did I say soemthing wrong? I’m sorry, Y/N . I uh, Fuck.” He says, wiping the tears, and he turns to grab a bottle of water. He turns back and hands it to you. You smile softly and take the bottle, and put it next to you. You surge up and hug him tightly.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” You say happily and lean back. “God, I was scared you wouldn’t support me…” You say sadly, and he looks at you sadly.
“Y/N You’re my best friend. The only person I even really care about anymore… I’d always accept and support you.” He promises, and you lean forward and kiss his cheek.
“Thank you.” You say and he nods. He suddenly smirks, as he sits next to you and leans against the wall.
“I mean, Girls are pretty as fuck, so I can’t blame you.” He jokes, and you laugh and push at his arm. You lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.
“Seriously, Y/N. I’m here for you. I support you more than anyone else on this fucking rust bucket could, and I will be your wing-man. No ifs, ands, or buts.” He says, and you nod softly, thankful that you have him in your life.
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shawnpetermuffins · 6 years
Text
Were you going to tell me?
A/N: this is my first fan fiction on here, so I'd love some feedback if you have any! Also, I'm writing this on my phone, so it probably has a bunch of typos.
Summary: y/n and Shawn have been together for 7 years, but y/n isn't so sure he still wants to be. (This is a really bad summary, wow. Sorry lol)
Warnings: some swearing. Angst and lots of it.
Word count: it's a lot sorry
***
Seven years. Five of which I was in school. (The unfortunate fact of getting into a long distance relationship during my senior year of high school and continuing through college.) Four of which he has been all about touring, and working at the studio, and doing promo. And two of which I have been living with him. Two birthdays and two anniversaries have gone forgotten - by him, I might add. I've never forgotten an anniversary or birthday. I'm good at remembering dates, especially with people that I love. And despite this, I have been completely invested in our relationship.
He's never home anymore. I'm always here cleaning our - his - condo, which used to feel big, but now it feels like I can't take a single step without being in his personal space. That is when he bothers to be home for more than an hour at a time and I'm not at work. He doesn't even notice anymore. It's like he just expects it now. Dinner is always in the fridge for him to heat up because he's never home in time to sit down with each other and eat like a normal couple would. And of course this also means that our sex life is pretty much nonexistent. It's not that I don't want to because that is definitely not the case, but every time I try to get him in bed he always says hes tired or "not now, y/n. I have to get this done." "I'm about to leave." "The boys are on their way."
We've gotten to this point in our relationship that I never thought we'd be at. I never thought he'd become disinterested in me, in us. He really doesn't even pay attention to anything I do or say anymore. So I high key doubted that he was going to notice when I didn't come home for a few days, weeks maybe. It's not like he texts or calls me to see where I am now.
I was throwing in a few more pairs of panties when the front door closed. He was home early. I panicked for a second, debated on whether or not I should I hide the suitcase, but I shook my head and zipped it, set it next to my nightstand. I went to the bathroom to grab my makeup and toothbrush.
“Y/n?” He said from the door to our room. I already wanted to burst into tears, but I couldn't. Not in front of him. He couldn't see how much I was hurting. I walked back into the room, “Hi,” I said softly, but I didn't dare look his way.
“What are you doing? Why is the suitcase out?”
I sighed and didn't answer for a while, trying to find the right words. “I’m going home for a while.”
“Home? You are home. What are you talking about?” He stepped farther into the room.
This was killing me because this was probably the longest conversation we've had in months. “No, Shawn. I'm going home. To y/h/t.” I finally looked up at him. He looked tired, so tired and I just wanted to put him to bed and have him rest for a few days, but I knew better than to say anything to him about how hard he was working himself. We've had that fight before. He thought I was having him choose between me and his work. I would never. (Because I know he'd choose work.)
“What?” He closed the distance between us, grabbing my elbows. This is the closest we've been in a while and it took everything in me not to melt into him. “Were you going to tell me?”
“Shawn,” I pulled away from him and tossed my bathroom bag on the bed.
“What? Is that not a fair question?” He was getting angry, that was obvious. “Why are you leaving?”
“Because I have to.”
“Were you going to tell me?” He asked again.
“Honestly? No. I didn't even think you'd notice.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“What the fuck are you-?” He threw his hands up. “Of course I would notice!”
“When? Huh? When there wasn't dinner for you in the fridge?”
“Y/N, where is this coming - what did I do?”
“I'm tired, Shawn.” I rubbed my temples.
“Why are you leaving?!” His voice rose, and if I hadn't heard him like this time and time again in the past year and half, I would probably be scared.
“Because I want to go home! Because I can't just sit here anymore!”
He crossed his arms, eyes wide. “This is your home! This is our home!”
“No,” I shook my head, letting out a bitter laugh. “It's not.”
“Yes it is.”
“Shawn, this doesn't feel like home. This condo is not my home! You would understand if you bothered to pay attention to anything I say anymore.”
“I do pay attention!” He said defensively.
“No, you don't! For four years all you've thought about was yourself and your career. You never ask me about me and mine. Which, by the way is pretty much nonexistent since I moved here.”
“So, it's my fault that you don't have a career? Don't you put that on me, y/n! You know I work hard to put this roof over your head and make sure the utilities and anything else you need is paid for.”
“I don't ask you to do that! And I'd pay for it if you would let me! It's not like you're here to use the utilities anyway.”
"What is your fucking problem?! Why are you doing this?!"
"Because I'm tired! I'm tired of being overlooked. I'm tired of everyone asking me how you are and how we are and having to lie to them. I'm tired of going to bed by myself and waking up the same way. I'm tired and I want to go home."
"Why didn't you tell me any of this?"
"I tried! You never listen. It's always 'I have an early day tomorrow, can we talk about this later?' Or 'I can't do this right now.' Or 'the boys are coming over, let's put a pin in it.'"
"You still haven't said why you're really going."
"I miss my family, Shawn! I miss my friends! I haven't seen them in two years and you don't care because it has nothing to do with you or your career!"
"Of course I care! How dare you say I don't?"
"How dare I?! How dare you?! You can't just come in here and act like you suddenly give a shit about what I'm doing! You haven't so much as looked my way in months, but now that I have a suitcase out, now you want to act like you care. That's bullshit and you know it."
"You can't just leave!"
"Yes, actually. I can. Because even though you feel like you do, you don't own me. I can make my own decisions. In fact, I've been doing a lot on my own recently."
"You're being ridiculous," he said with a scoff and an eye roll.
"I don't really think I am," I tugged at the ends of my hair. "I have a right to see my family. Even if I have to fly across the entire fucking continent to do so."
"Y/N-"
"Do you know how much I've given up for you?" I cut him off.
"Excuse me?"
"I moved to Canada for you. I left the only place I've ever known just because you asked me to. I left my friends and family. I left my job. I left my home to be with you in yours. Notice how I say this, Shawn. I'm in your home. Not ours. Yours. It's absolute fucking shit that I have had to give up everything I've ever known just to make you happy and you've never once said thank you. You don't act like you appreciate me. Half the time you act like I'm not fucking here. But I am, Shawn! I'm here and every night I make you dinner and I make sure the place is clean and your laundry is done. I do everything for you and you can't so much as look at me when I try to tell you about my shitty day or to say 'thank you for dinner, pumpkin' when you're coming to bed." I took in a shuddery breath, but didn't take my eyes off him. "I can't even remember the last time you kissed me goodbye when you were leaving in the morning. Or the last time you woke me up in the middle of the night because you thought of a new chord progression that you need a second opinion on. I don't remember the last time we made love to each other. Now, I don't know why you wanted me here, but I'm sick and tired of playing the role of the forgotten housewife. I'm absolutely fucking done!"
"What does that mean? Done. Done with what?"
"Us!" I said without realizing what was coming out of my mouth.
"Baby!" He reached for my hands again, his eyes practically popping out of his head. "I'm sorry! Okay? I know. I know I've been fucking up a lot lately-"
"You forgot our anniversary. And my birthday. Twice!"
"I said I was sorry about that. You know I was-"
"Working on the album. Yes, I know. I forgave you because you were under so much stress. But I'm stressed too, you know?" I pulled my hands away from him, wrapped my arms around my middle. "I'm here in a place that I still don't know that well. I don't have a single friend here that isnt your sister or one of the guys. And no matter what, they would tell you if I was feeling neglected or sad. But they shouldn't have to tell you! You should just know because we've been together for seven goddamn years and you know me better than anyone. You should know I'm not feeling well." I took in a deep breath before continuing. "But you don't. You don't notice that I've lost weight because I've been under so much stress that I can barely keep any food down. You don't notice that I clean this house spotless at least twice a week because I have nothing else to do, or that your laundry is always washed and put up. You don't notice anything I do for you and it hurts! I've given up everything in my life just to be with you and you. Don't. Care. That fucking hurts, Shawn! It hurts that you haven't realized that I'm not happy anymore!"
He flinched like I'd hit him. "You've never said that to me before," his intense gaze dropped to the floor.
I've never said it out loud before either and I felt just how powerful and hurtful those words acfually were. Not only for him, but for me. It hurt me to say that to him. To see his face after I said it. "Look," I said, guard down, defeated. "I'm going back to y/h/t for a little bit. I just - I need to get away from this for a while."
"Do you know when you're coming back?" He reached for my hand again and played with my fingers, swirled the promise ring he gave me six years ago that, even through all this, I've never taken off.
I shook my head. "No."
That's when he started to cry and I knew I had to get going before I changed my mind. "I need to do this, Shawn. I think it'll be best for the both of us. We need to figure out if this relationship is really what we want. If it's still worth the fight."
"I want you, y/n. I've never wanted anyone else the way I want you. Please." He took my right hand and rested it on his cheek, locking it there with his own hand. "Please stay. I'll be better. I'll work less. I'll make you feel as loved as you should be. I'll do anything you want me to. Just please," he begged again, his voice cracking. "I'll be lost without you. I can't- I can't lose you."
I sighed and kissed his temple, retracting my hands from his once again. "I have to go," I grabbed my bags.
He followed me out to the car, tears still streaking his face. I put my bags in the trunk and checked my purse to make sure I had my passport and ticket. Then I closed the trunk and stood face to face with my broken boy.
"Can I kiss you? Is that allowed?"
I nodded. I wanted more than anything for him to kiss me and never stop. I wanted this kiss go be enough to make me forget all that's fallen apart between us. Forget all the pain I've suffered watching him live his dream while I put mine on hold and stay in this house that isn't home, even when he isn't coming home and he can't send me something as miniscule as a text to tell me so.
But this lips still felt so good against mine. Like they were made to connect to my lips. His tongue wrestling with mine was heaven. To taste him again after so long without him felt surreal, and that's when I started crying because how could we be so terribly fucking broken and still be able to share a kiss like this? How could he still make my stomach do backflips when his fingers combed through my hair?
And how could it still not be enough?
"I love you," he pulled back, his forehead creasing as he fought back more tears.
I wanted to say it too. Wanted to put him at ease, but I'd been crumbling in that place for months upon months and some part of me, no matter how small, wanted him go hurt the way I have. Leave him wondering like he's left me. So I got in the car because the kiss, his words, they weren't enough.
***
So that's the end of that. Let me know if you want a part 2 I guess!
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