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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years ago

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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

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It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

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| Part Five |

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 4 years ago

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Pinky Promise

Summary: Fred and Y/N have been rivals for a while, but no matter if it was pranks, or quidditch or something else, they always had their limits to not hurt the other. In fact, for the past few months Y/N and Fred have been growing closer, and even developing feelings for each other, but everything changes when one of Fred's pranks go to far, and he needs to find a way to fix it to save their relationship.

Warnings: Swearing, Fred being kind of a dick, Reader getting angry, confrontation, some angst, kind of a lot of angst actually, ends in major fluff though, also humor because I may not not how to spell but I’m hilarious.

Word count: 2.7K

A/N: comin at cha with ANOTHER ENEMIES TO LOVERS FRED WEALSEY FIC??? Why am I so uncreative? Idk, anyways I hope you enjoy!

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You were beyond furious. You didn’t think there was a strong enough word to describe how angry you were, and you were pretty sure if you were any angrier steam would be coming out of your ears. And the reason for all this anger you may ask?

Fred Fucking Weasley

You stormed through the hallway, heading straight to the dining hall. It was late, and you barely anybody would be in there, but you knew he would be.

You stopped in the doorway, scanning over the tables until your eyes landed on a familiar mop of red hair. Locking your eyes on your target, you stomped over, clutching your bag tightly in your right hand.

“Oh shit- what did you do this time?” You heard Lee whisper to Fred, as you got closer, but you paid him no mind, eyes locking with Fred’s, who had that same stupid smirk that he always did. It made your blood boil.

“Good evening love, how’s your night going?” Fred asked nonchalantly, as if you were friends and not life long enemies.

“I have to say, it was going quite well, until I found this” You seethed, slamming your bag onto the table in front of him. “Say, does this bag look familiar to you?”

“Nope, can’t say it does” Fred shrugged, but the glimmer in his eye said differently.

“Really? Why don’t you take a closer look” You insisted, grabbing the bag off the table, flipping open the top, and flipping it upside-down, causing an eruption of water to fall from the mouth of the bag.

The water continued for what felt like forever, pieces of paper and pens falling out with it as the contents emptied out onto the floor, soaking yours and Fred’s shoes, but neither of you made a move.

After the water had finally stopped, you threw the bag into his lap, causing him to look down at it, a thoughtful hand on his chin.

“You know, now that I’m looking more closely at it, it does look a bit familiar” He said simply, and judging by the nervous looks on George, and Lee’s face when they saw you, you for sure had steam coming out of your ears now, but you kept your composure.

“Oh, well that’s good. You see, I’m trying to solve a bit of a mystery of who could have done this. Would you have any ideas?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of you.

By now, most of the cafeteria had cleared out. They have seen you and Fred get into heated arguments before. But this was different.

This was going to be fatal.

“No clue, but I have to say whoever thought of it is a bloody genius” He complimented, giving you a grin.

“Genius you say? So you think, flooding my one bag, and ruining all my homework, as well as my ten page essay that I’ve been working on all month, that’s due tomorrow... is Genius?” You asked, the calmness in your voice adding a coldness to the room that shot straight to everyone's bones.

And judging by the now terrified face Fred wore, he was feeling the effects of your voice as well.

“Oh, I see there's been a mix up, I’m actually George-”

“You are fucking not! Don't get me caught up in this” George interrupted, standing along with Lee to flee the scene

“So sorry about him, Y/N, he can’t be helped. Try not to go to hard on him-” Lee started, but a quick glance his way shut him up instantly “Actually on second thought, do what you see fit, see ya Fred”

With that, George and Lee practically sprinted out of the dining hall, leaving you standing over Fred, who suddenly felt very small.

“I swear, I had no idea your essay was in there, if I had known I wouldn’t have-” Fred started apologizing, but was quickly cut off when your hand slammed down on the table beside you.

“You see Fred” You said, taking a seat on the bench next to him. “I think you did know. We’re in the same class, you’ve seen me working my ass off trying to get this essay done, and you’ve even asked for my notes, which I refused because of this kind of shit you pull”

Fred swallowed thickly, his heart beating out of his chest at your anger. He had seen you angry before, and he’s been cross with you a few times as well, but those died down fairly quickly, and most of the time there weren't to many hard feelings. And you were right, he had seen you working on that essay, both in class, and at two in the morning in the library.

“Now” You continued “We’ve had out little quarrels in the past, you prank me, I prank you, you hit me with a quaffle at quidditch, I hit one back at you, nothing too serious. But this” She paused, picking a sopping wet pile of papers off the floor, and plopping it in front of him “Is really really fucking low. Did you know, I was already failing this class?”

The question put Fred on the spot, and he felt his heart sink to his stomach. He had always known you to be extremely smart and quick minded, so to hear you weren't doing so well in that class came as a surprise.

“Yeah, I’m failing because, fun fact, I’m fucking exhausted. I’m staying up till three in the morning every night, trying to get caught up in classes. I’m writing back and forward to my family constantly because they’re going through financial problems again, Umbridge is constantly writing me up for no reason, and on top of all of that, I still need to be worried about this”

Your voice was beginning to shake a bit, and you both knew you were about to cry, but you were determined to keep the tears in until you were done. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“So... Fred, consider this little rival, or fight, or whatever the fuck this is, over. I’m done, you win, just please, for the love of fuck, leave me alone”

With that, you stood up and left the dining hall, quickly wiping the stay tear that snuck out on your way. All the while, Fred sat in shocked silence. He had always seen your little back and forwards as friendly competition, and had even thought they were a bit flirty at times. In fact, you two had been getting a bit closer these last few months, and had even started hanging out as friends. But now, he had royally fucked that up, and he needed to fix it.

The next day, you were exhausted. You had spent a lot of the night crying, which you hated but all the pent up emotions just came flooding out. Yes, you were absolutely pissed at Fred, but most of all, you were hurt. In the last few months, you’re arguments had died down a bit, and you found yourselves hanging out from time to time, always accidentally, but you enjoyed his company none the less.

You had even begun to like him a bit, maybe even more than a friend. He was nice, and charming, and wicked funny, and always tried to make you smile, but now, after seeing how careless, and almost mean he had been, you knew you needed to shove those feelings down. So you did.

Your first class was potions, which of course you had with Fred. He sat behind you, and for a while, he made the class bearable, passing notes back and forward. But now you were absolutely dreading it.

Fred was sat in his usual seat, waiting for you to walk in. He had come in early, hoping to get the chance to talk to you, but when you walked in just as class began, he knew he would need to try a different approach.

Not even five minutes into the class, you felt a piece of paper land beside your elbow on your desk. You looked down, finding a folded up piece of paper, which you immediately knew was Fred's.

You could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head, but instead of turning around, you simply flicked the paper off your desk, returning your gaze to the chalkboard. A few minutes later, another piece of paper, this time on top of your notebook. Again, you flicked it off.

Finally, five pieces of paper later, you smacked your quill down and picked up the newest piece of paper from your desk, unfolding it and looking it over, Fred watching you closely as you did

Can we please talk? I’m sorry

You finally turned around to meet the boys gaze, his eyes instantly lighting up at the change, but his spirits quickly fell when he saw your face, not angry, or frustrated, but sad.

You had had enough, facing the boy, you placed the paper back onto his own desk right as the professor dismissed the class, quickly slipping out of the room before Fred could follow you.

You avoided him like the plague the rest of the day. You didn’t have many other classes with him, and the ones you did share you made sure to find an empty seat far away from him, you even skipped lunch, choosing instead to read in your next class.

You even skipped the class where your essay was due, not wanting to show up and hand over nothing, you decided to spend the rest of the day alone, and try to redo your assignment, even if you now only had a day to do it.

Fred only saw you again after class by the forbidden forest. He had found you pretty easily, you weren’t in any of your usual spots, so he knew this would be the next best spot to check. As he approached you, he found you had changed out of your uniform and were now in some joggers and a sweatshirt, sitting with your back against a rock as you scribbled in the notebook in front of you.

You chewed your lip as you tried to rewrite your essay, looking to your textbook and back every few second, before messing up on a word. Frustrated, you scribbled out the paragraph you had been working on and threw your notebook and quill to the side, resting your elbows on your knees as you held your head in your hands.

You quickly snapped out of it though when someone behind you cleared their throat, getting your attention and making you jump out of your skin. Panic surged through you, expecting a teacher, or worse, Umbridge, but the fear was soon replaced by irritation when you made eye contact with none other than the very red head you had spent all day trying to avoid.

“What do you want Fred?” You asked, turning back to face the forbidden forest, away from him.

He didn’t answer, instead you were met with the sound of grass shuffling beneath his feet as he got closer, taking a seat before holding something out to you, causing you to look over at him.

It was your bag from yesterday, but now completely fixed and dry. It looked like brand new.

You took the bag from him and looked it over, going over the seams and the straps before finally opening it, finding your notebooks, pens, and homework assignments all neatly tucked inside.

“How did you- When did-” you rambled trying to find the words and you shuffled through your belongings, finding them all intact and dry before finally turning to look at him “Why did you do this for me?”

Fred wasn’t expecting that question, but he still answered, looking down at the grass.

“I felt really bad after yesterday, and not just because of that stuff you... anyway, I know I went too far, and I shouldn't have done it in the first place, but I wanted to have a reason to talk to you I guess, and I did it in the worst way possible, and I wanted to make it up to you. I’m sorry”

You looked at him, before turning back to the bag, noticing there was something missing, but before you could say anything Fred continued.

“I was also able to save your essay, it took a while but it was all there. I was going to give it to you in class, but you didn’t show up so I turned it in for you and said you were sick. I got to read some of it by the way, its really good and I would be surprised if you-”

Fred was cut off by you moving your bag to the side and turning to face him, wrapping your arms around him to pull him into a hug.

Fred was too shocked to move for a second, but quickly found himself returning the embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you closer. You sat like that for a minute, your face buried in his neck as a thousand emotions flooded over you. Finally, you pulled away, looking him in the eye.

“I’m not saying I’m not entirely grateful” you started “But you could have just come and talked to me, why did you feel you needed to do that to talk to me?”

At this, Fred’s face began to heat up a bit and he looked back down, fiddling with the grass. He was hoping to fix your friendship and move on, maybe one day growing to be something more, but now he was faced with the choice to tell you his feelings, or lie, and he didn’t want to deny it anymore.

“We’ve always had our little competitions and stuff, ever since we were kids, and for a while we really hated each other. But then, these last few months I got to know you a lot more, and I always knew you were funny, but you’ve got a wicked sense of humor, and you’re super smart, and are always helping people, and you’re always kind to everyone you meet, and I thought I might have had a crush or something. And I didn’t really know how to interact with you in a not competition way, and I didn’t want to freak you out, but after the bag, seeing how it hurt you, it broke me. And I realized that I liked you a lot more than I thought I did”

Fred looked up at you, waiting for your reaction. Were you angry, upset, happy? Your face wasn’t giving him any signs, but then, a small smile crept to your lips, and despite how hard you tried to fight it.

You laughed.

“I’m sorry” You started, trying to fight the laughter bubbling in your chest “I’m not laughing at you, I’m not, it’s just-” Another laugh. “God were just a bunch of idiots aren't we?”

Fred was looking at you like you’d gone crazy

“What do you mean?”

“I like you too dumb ass” You confessed.

“You... oh... Oh!” Fred exclaimed, finally putting the pieces together. “Wow, I really fucked up didn’t I”

“Oh for sure” you nodded, causing Fred to let out a groan, shaking his head before looking back to you, a smile on his face.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, closing the rest of the space between you and pressing your lips to his. Fred returned the action, bringing a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in closer, deepening the kiss.

After a few seconds, you both pulled away, each with goofy smiles on your faces.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Fred asked.

“Only if you promise to never do it again” you said

“Deal” Fred answered quickly, holding out his pinky to you, which you wrapped your own pinky around, shaking on the agreement.

“Wow a pinky promise, that's some hard core shit” You joked in a serious tone.

“Hey, if it means I get to spend more time with you, I’d pinky promise to anything” Fred replied, to which you gave him a feigned shocked expression.

“Anything?! Aww, you like me like me” you teased, laughing as Fred playfully pushed your shoulder.

“Shut up you like me like me too” Fred argued

“That is true” you nodded, before smiling and grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him into another kiss, smiling as he pulled you even closer.

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A/N: Heeey, so I was hit with the biggest surge of motivation today and I literally got two weeks of homework done, deep clean my room, and wrote this, so if I go dark for a few months its probably because I’ve used my adrenaline budget for the year lol.

But seriously, I know this fic gets a bit... deep ig? Idk, I’ve been going through it recently and I wanted some angst that would actually reflect how I would react in that situation if you know what I mean? Like I see a long of angsts where the love interest does something really mean, but a simple apology solves everything and yeah. No hate if that’s your writing style, its just not my thing, and I wanted to express my emotions through here, because nobody directly fucked up an entire month of my work but it certainly feels that way sometimes.

Anyways, rant over, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave any feedback or recommendations you may have.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred fanfic #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley has me SOFT HOLY SHIT #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley request #fred weasley enemies to lovers

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movieloversposts · 2 years ago

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Spiderman: No Way Home (2021) 8/10

With his secret identity spilled to the world, Peter Parker (Tom Holland) must ask Doctor Strange to cast a spell to erase everyone's memory of him. What could go wrong?

I'd been wanting to see this movie for a while now, and I thought it was very good! It's a bit complex, with the multiverse idea, but it's interesting and engaging.

First off, let me be biased and say I don't like Tom Holland's portrayal of Spider-Man here. Why? Well, for one thing, he's selfish.

Watch the movie and you'll see what I mean.

For Spiderman veterans, there's the return of Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield's Spiderman. They all have varying personalities and come from different universes, with varying suits. It's funny to see how they all get together on screen and figure out a way to work together, rather than against each other.

There's also Green Goblin, Doc Ock, and Electro making a return here, because what's a hero movie without villains?

The movie starts off strong with action, and there's a lot of action throughout the movie, really. Not alot of dull moments, other than the multiverse concept, which is kind of confusing at first.

Jamie Foxx and Alfred Molina are hilarious as Electro and Doc Ock, as well as Willem Dafoe as Goblin. Whoever thought of bringing them all back to fight together was genius.

I can understand why there was so much hype for this movie, and it definitely delivered. I can only imagine what it must've been like to see it in theatres.

#spiderman #tom holland #tobey maguire #andrew garfield #willem dafoe #alfred molina #jamie foxx #marvel #superheroes #villians #comics #action #adventure #multiverse #powers #memory #history #alliance

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dogin8 · 4 years ago

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With what we've seen from c!Quackity more recently, it very much seems like he's a "means to an ends" sort of person, in that so long as the outcome is good, he will do what it takes, and honestly, the theory that he specifically poisoned Schlatt's drinks before november 16th isn't so far fetched, like obviously Schlatt's health was poor and his condition was declining but there is the possibility that Quackity decided to speed up the process, and it makes a lot of his lines in the camarvan scene seem a lot more cold,

"God, he hasn't changed one bit" seems less like a funny observation and more like a quiet justification, Quackity trying to convince himself that there was no saving Schlatt and that poisoning him was the right thing to do

"He smells of ALCOHOL! he stinks of alcohol." once again what seemed like an observation seems more like a cover up, like he's trying to get the idea into everyone's heads that alcohol is what's doing this to him (not to mention how Schlatt had only mentioned drinking protein shakes, not alcohol)

Schlatt literally says "Oh god this protein shake has something in it" at one point

Quackity goes on a rant about how "this is all your fault, you took down the whitehouse so everything that happens after this point is all on you" and like, I know they were already planning on killing him but that seems very foreshadowy, like pre-emptively justifying "everything that happens after this point" something that only somebody who knows exactly whats going to happen would say

Also Quackity gets very frustrated with how long it's taking and literally starts telling Tommy "Just kill him already, just do it"

Then after Schlatt dies Quackity says "That's it, he's dead, he's really dead" somewhat triumphantly, and I understand that it does in the context of the war mean that they technically won, but it's still taking triumph from somebody dying of something completely outside of your control... unless it wasn't actually outside of his control after all

IN CONCLUSION: Quackity might have poisoned Schlatt and whoever thought of this first was a genius

#dream smp #dreamsmp #dsmp #quackity #schlatt

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years ago

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Can the Batman get flustered ? - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Batman has a reputation of always being impassive. Of being very in control of his emotions. But of course, you being his wife, you know his secrets and weak spots... And apparently, sending him dirty texts while you guys are in public definitely works very well to fluster him /Drabble-Minific.

You know that Tik Tok trend where people send a dirty text to their s/o while they’re in public ? I don’t know why I find it so funny and all, but today during my lunch break I was scrolling through the app and fell on a few of those and...boom. This story was born haha. Written in half an hour while I was eating pasta, I hope you’ll like it nonetheless :

TW : SLIGHTLY Nsfw. I mean. The subject itself is “dirty texts” so ya know haha. No actual texts will be shown, but insinuation will.

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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******

Not amused.

One. Two. Three. Fo-

Here it goes.

He hears the little “beep” of his phone, notifying him that he just received a text.

Not any text though.

A text from a family member. It was a very specific “beep”, for when one of his kids, you, or Alfred were sending him a text.

You’re a little disappointed he changed the alert sound back to that boring “beep” it has always been.

You rather liked, when Jason pranked him and instead put a recording of himself saying “dingityding motherfucker, ya got a message from one of us”.

It wasn’t very tasteful for sure, and yeah, you probably shouldn’t’ve found it so funny...But solely for the face your husband and the people he was talking to made, it was all worth it.

So what if you were nodding along to Bruce’s sermon as he was scolding your son, while simultaneously, when your husband wasn’t looking, giving two thumbs up to Jason ?

Anyway. Here was the family “beep”. And here it goes.

A smile to the people he was talking to meaning : “Apologies, I have to take this.” as he takes his phone out of his pocket.

Not that it surprised anyone. He was Bruce Wayne, a busy billionaire who owned multiple enterprises and who was constantly on the move to something new. His phone ringing wasn’t exactly something special.

Him answering during a conversation wasn’t either.

Not only did he have the reputation of being a rather busy bee, but he was also known as quite a protective father. His children were not present at the gala that night, meaning any calls or texts could be an emergency from them.

Of course, nobody even suspected himbo Bruce Wayne to be the scary Batman, so no one could quite understand how worried Bruce could get about his kids. Yet Bruce Wayne has been a family man long enough by then for everyone to know he was a “doting father”.

The fact he always protected them from too much media coverage, or how angry he would get when someone would be a little too chummy with them purely by interest...

You always found it sweet.

That he cared so much about his family that even those not knowing him at all, even those only seeing his “Brucie Wayne” persona (minus the Playboy side he gave up long ago when deciding to make it official with you) noticed.

Of course, you knew he wasn’t always the perfect father. Or husband. But the fact he always tried so hard, and no matter what, always cared so much (maybe even too much ?) made everything worth it.

Ah, but today wasn’t about how sometimes, it was a little difficult to be Batman’s wife.

Today, it was about how fun it could actually be.

Like right now, as he excused himself and took his phone out to see what the text he just received said.

He was reading it now. And suddenly...

His eyes widened, his face turned a light shade of red, he hurriedly hid his phone’s screen, and cough a little to hide how hot he suddenly felt.

“Are you alright, Bruce ?”

One of the man he was talking to asked, and with an awkward smile (very unlike him), he answered :

“Yes, yes everything is ok. Haha. The um, the children.”

The man nods, and says something like : “Aaah children, never cease to worry us right ?” and Bruce chuckles. Of this utterly fake chuckle only you knew was fake.

His real laugh sounded nothing like that.

A few more seconds pass, before Bruce excuses himself, saying he has to go check something, and...Finally.

Finally, his eyes are searching for you.

Finding you easily amongst everyone else.

His slight frown, his rosy cheeks who would stay this color for a little while still, and the way he walked towards you with incredible resolve...How adorable.

“I bet you find this funny, mm ?”

“No idea what you’re talking about, dear.”

Your small smile is infuriating. And oh, oh how Bruce wished he didn’t love it as much as he did. Oh how he wished he could actually be mad at you for sending him such a thing, in such a public place.

“You need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what, exactly ?”

“Sending me -he lowers his voice and continues- sending me those, things.”

“Things ?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You smile at him, coyly. But he can see the mischievous spark in your eyes. And he scoffs, frustrated that you always seem to easily get to him.

Nobody does that. Only you.

Sure, his kids will sometimes get under his skin just for the sake of it. Or could have rather hurtful words if they weren’t feeling well. But he was always able to control his emotions in those cases.

The Batman was always so impassive. He always looked so in control of his emotions. And Bruce worked for years and years to achieve this. To be able to hide it all deep within him, to pretend he’s not feeling anything, and stay neutral.

But you...You always burned through his very being. Wether it was because you smiled at him, or send him a rather dirty text in the middle of a crowded charity ball, as he was talking to some of the most powerful people in Gotham.

Oh. Oh this was a treat. A flustered Bruce. It wasn’t often, you could get him like that. And it was such a treat.

He can see you’re enjoying this. And passed the initial shock of you telling him such dirty things in your texts, he can see how funny and rather sexy this entire thing could be.

If only, if only he could control his emotions when around you.

But he can’t. He can’t because he loves you too much. And because you know exactly how to play him (to be fair, he also knew exactly how to play you, and could drive YOU crazy if he wanted to, too...each had a turn, you guess).

He bites the inside of his lips, as he usually does when he’s slightly amused, yet a bit annoyed. Yes. That was a mood that was fairly frequent with Bruce. Especially when it came to you.

You always knew exactly which buttons to push to rile him up, to fluster him, to exasperate him to no end, too.

And when he bit the inside of his lips, it was when he felt a mix of amusement, and annoyance.

To be honest, that was exactly what you were looking for to get out of him.

And sending him a dirty text in public always worked. You loved, the flustered way he reacted. The flushed cheeks, the blabbering and how it took him a little bit to regain countenance while usually it’d only take him a few seconds to hide his feelings.

You smile at him again, happy you still have any effect on him and...

Ah. And there it was. Passed the initial shock of receiving such a text, and the slight annoyance at you trying to fluster him...the smile. A genuine and soft smile. One only always directed at you. One that showed you, and everyone around, just how much Bruce Wayne loved you.

He throws an arm around your waist, and says :

“So. Should we get out of here ?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Another smile. Genuine. Making everything worth it.

The hardships, but also this sort of simple moments.

When Bruce Wayne could act like a “normal” man, and get flustered as his wife send him sexy texts while they were in public, and very crowded places.

Bruce smiles at you. Genuinely. Yes. You could always get to him. And, frankly, even if he loved to complain about it...He wouldn’t have it any other way.

And now ? Now he was definitely ready to go try out what you suggested in that god forsaken text.

Why do you chose such moment do to this ?!

One. Two. Three. Fo-

Like clockwork.

He was in an important business meeting, but everyone here recognized that special “beep”, the one Jason oh so loved to change up to ridiculous things.

It was even worst lately, as he started a “game” with his siblings : “Whoever can get their hands on dad’s phone and replace all his notification sounds with something stupid, wins”. Needless to say, your children’s competitive side was driving your husband crazy.

It was rather funny, to watch him, each mornings as he was getting ready to leave for work, getting slightly unnerved as he made sure his alarms hadn’t been changed (your children could be sooooo sneaky).

Tim won, when he slyly and sneakily replaced the “beep” with...that same “beep” a few times, as to not make his father suspicious, only for, after the third “beep”, the phone screaming the main theme from the “Barbie : Thumbelina” movie. Damn.

Your kids were geniuses.

It was hilarious, to see your husband’s face suddenly turning pale.

Ah but your children, all genius that they were, were still amateurs.

They couldn’t get him to feel as mortified as you could, when you pulled this particular little trick on him...

Annoying him ? Making him feel embarrassed for a few seconds ? Exasperating him to no end ? That, they were always good at. But he would always regain his countenance fast.

But what you did ? Haha. Aaah it would stay on his mind for long after the event, and would most definitely...Fluster him.

Flustered.

Not a state the great Bruce Wayne was in often.

And most of the time, you were the source of the “flustering”.

Like right now, as he was in an important meeting, and heard his phone “beep”.

The “family beep”.

Unfortunately for him, it was one of “those texts”. That you just send because well, maybe you were a little evil ? Maybe you liked, to fluster him when he was in public ? To show people he was actually human ?

He looked at his phone, straightened up in his chair and...Of course, he guessed that you must be around.

And there you were indeed. Right outside the room.

He quickly glanced at you through the glass walls of the conference room.

You saw him readjust his pants, and you knew you definitely got to him today. But his reaction wasn’t that grand. Maybe he had um...A little “pants being too tight” problem, but it was clear he could easily hide it. And he got hold of his face rather fast.

Still, it was very entertaining, how clearly bothered he was. How unable to focus on the meeting he was. Only you though, who knew him better than anyone else, would notice the shift in his behavior.

It wasn’t enough, though. And he wasn’t looking at you anymore. That wouldn’t do.

You decided to give him the coup de grace and slipped to the restroom to um...Take a nice picture of yourself, let’s say that.

You went back to wait outside the conference room, where you’d have a GREAT view of him. And of his reaction. That was certainly going to be...Something.

“Beep”. The family “beep”.

It’s uncanny, how Bruce never suspects you’re going to trick him TWICE in a row. He should though. You often do it.

Ah but his fatherly instincts always get the best of him, and when he hears that specific “beep”, he can’t stop but look. In case anyone needs him.

He should really find a “beep” just for you, shouldn’t he ? Then again, even then, even with the knowledge that you LOVE to send him dirty text while he’s in public, he’d still jump on the notification. Just in case something happened, you know ?

Nothing happened today. Well. Except for your little restroom trip.

He barely takes a look at the photo you send him, that his eyes widen, he spits the drink he was taking all over the papers in front of him, and he slams his phone screen first on the table (shattering it in the process).

“Um...are you okay, mister Wayne ?”

His associates and employees are concerned. For good reasons. And Bruce hastily tries to dry his paperwork, and apologize saying it’s nothing, that they’re all doing a great job and to continue, please.

They do. Writing this incident off as yet another one of their boss’ eccentricities (as far as they were concerned, there were lots of them).

And you are LIVING. It’s always nice, you can get such reaction out of him.

He looks at you again. And as the meeting went on, for ten more excruciating minutes, he kept looking at you, although he tried really hard to focus on what was being said.

Oh well. He’d ask Lucious for a recap.

His eyes also kept going to his shattered phone, playing that photo over and over in his head...Finally, the meeting was over, and he rushed out.

No one was surprised, they all saw you waiting patiently (haha) outside. They all liked “Mrs. Wayne”, you were nice, and always lifted their boss’ spirit.

And they knew that when you were around, it was usually to pick him up. So yes. It wasn’t a surprised when he hastily said goodbye, and went to you.

“You need to stop doing that !”

You don’t even bother answering, smiling at him in a mischievous almost evil way. And you kiss him on the lips. A simple, very chaste peck. That light his heart on fire.

It’s crazy, the effect you have on him. No matter how much he tries to keep himself in check. Of course, he has the same effect on you. And to be honest, he flusters you much more than you fluster him.

After all, rare are the perfect occasions to send him dirty texts in moments that will fluster him. If you did it in any other time, he’d just smile and immediately go to you. Or answer with an equally heated text (when he was away, sexting was totally a thing).

More often than not, he was the one in control. Oh but when you could get to him...When you could get to him, you REALLY got to him. And if anyone else would notice how truly flustered he got, they wouldn’t recognize him.

But you knew him. You knew how sweet and soft he could be. How many people had the wrong ideas of him. And how adorable it was, when you got him all hot and bothered in that way.

How, no matter how much he tried, you always got to him, during those moments. And how much it meant.

How much it meant.

It meant that you were his only one. That nobody understood him more than you. And that honestly, no matter how annoyed, flustered and such he would get...he was just always feeling a little happy nonetheless.

Yes.

It meant a lot, that you knew him that well. And that only you, with a few well placed words, could fluster him so.

In the Watchtower.

This was rather dangerous.

Which added even more spices to everything.

Not that usually, it wasn’t “dangerous”. So far, you did it to him while he was in a meeting, at a gala, not far from many paparazzis...

There had always been a sort of danger, to you sending this kind of texts to him while in public.

But today...Ah today there was even more.

Because today, you guys were in the Justice League’s watchtower.

And there were MANY people, in that place, that could easily take a peak at what Bruce had on his phone. And that would NEVER leave it down that the Batman was receiving such filth from his wife.

That’s why you did it. And also because that very same morning, Bruce had been a little too grumpy and unpleasant, and you wanted to take a little revenge on him.

It was rare, really, that he would be a jerk to you or his kids nowadays. But sometimes. Just sometimes...Well. He wasn’t a perfect being. He had many flaws. And he could be a bit of a dick, at times. Even to you and your children.

Hence, the well deserved little revenge you were about to get (not that you really needed a reason to want him flustered...but here, with all your superhero friends, it was a particular treat).

One. Two. Three. Fo-

“Beep”. The specific family one.

Batman was sitting at the tip of the meeting table. You were sitting a few seat from him, a wide evil grin already plastered on your face. And all your best friends were around the table, discussing plans to secure Earth a little more from intergalactic attack.

“Excuse me for a minute.”

Your husband says. And no one is surprised. They all recognize the “family beep”. And despite the reputation he dragged for years, they also all know what his family means to him...

Clark is right there, slowly leaning towards Bruce, and you know he’s about to ask if the kiddos are alright. Turns out, Clark Kent is an amazing uncle. And friend. He worries a lot about “y’all”, very often.

And oh, oh this was going to be fun.

At the very moment Bruce’s eyes see your name on his phone, and what is the content of your text, his eyes widen, turn to Clark and...

“What the hell Bruce ?”

Your husband, by pure instinct, shoved Clark’s face away, while at the same time hiding his phone in his pocket again.

Clark could’ve avoided it easily, you knew. But he probably wasn’t really expecting the Batman to get weirdly panicky and shove him away like that ?

“You were-...Too close.”

Bruce says a bit abruptly, trying really hard to hide how worked up he feels after he read what you send him. He avoids your look like the plague, and pretends as if this little incident didn’t happen, returning to discussing plans.

The incident passed fast, and although Clark was a bit sour about it, he didn’t ask further. He guessed yes, he was a little too close ? He just wanted to be sure whoever send the text was alright.

And oh. Oh that whoever was definitely alright.

Because it was you. And this entire scene unfolded to your utter delight. Bruce abruptness and such was very much like him to all his friends. But you...You saw beyond that.

You saw how rosy his cheeks got under his mask. And how his eyes kept wandering to you, even as he was working on something very important.

You saw how truly flustered he got. So flustered in fact, that he couldn’t think of a clever way out of why he shoved his friends away, but that he was “too close”.

A little unlike Bruce.

Or was it really ? Was it truly unlike him, or just unlike the idea so many people had of him ? Because you...

You knew the real Bruce. And sometimes, he could be clumsy and shy and stumble on his words. He could be awkward and cute, all flustered and blushy.

He could be...He was so many things.

And so many sides of him were absolute secrets. Secrets only you and your children knew.

You were privy to the most secret parts of him.

The adorable ones that would get flustered by a dirty text send in public.

But also the very sexy one that would later act upon it...

He could act annoyed, embarrassed and like he was mad at you all he wanted. You knew he secretly LOVED it, when you took this kind of risk.

And oh. Oh how you knew.

Really ?! In front OF MY SALAD ?!

It was a “family and friends” barbecue. One of those occurrences that happen very rarely, when your entire circle of close friends and family is free.

One of those very rare occurrences where you could all meet up, and have a relaxing time. Today, a barbecue.

The summer heat was heavy, and you couldn’t help but smile as you looked at your kids and Clark’s son, Jon, playing in the pool.

Jason and Jon were having a fight against Tim and Damian, and you weren’t sure it was a very fair one...Up until Tim kicked his brother in the nuts, and Jason fell in the water, cursing him.

You probably should’ve told them to “play nice”, but then Jason emerged from the water and grabbed both his little brothers and...It was clearly all in good fun. Jon was bursting in laughter, cheering along with Duke and Cass for whoever they were siding with to win.

Ah. Ah you lived for days like this. When you could all pretend to be normal. Then again, you would change your lifestyle for no others.

The vigilante thing, making Gotham (and by extension the World) a better place...this was what you chose. What you all chose.

You turned away from your children playing in the pool, screaming (you were pretty sure they could be heard all the way in Downtown Gotham) and having fun, to look for your husband.

And there he was. Flipping some burgers on the barbecue. Looking hella fine in his polo shirt and cargo shorts. Then again, that man could wear a burlap sack that he would still look good.

You were shamelessly staring at him when he turned to look at you, giving you the smuggest look you’ve seen on his face in a while.

Oh. Oh the bastard. He knew the effect he had on you. And he loved it.

Mmm.

That sort of called for a little lesson, right ? Punishment, perhaps ?

And the environment was perfect. Here he was, taking care of the barbecue, while surrounded by friends asking for burgers...The perfect setting to fluster Bruce Wayne.

You took your phone out, and wrote everything you wanted to do to him. The way that polo shirt was clinging to his muscles definitely fueled your imagination.

You pressed send, and sat back in your chair, sipping on your non-alcoholic cocktail. You smiled at Lois and Dinah as they came to sit next to you, and took part in their conversation (they were talking about how annoying Oliver and Clark could be, yet how great they were too, and ah you could relate to this haha). But you kept a lookout for Bruce.

His phone rang. The infamous “family beep”. But he didn’t immediately react. Probably because his entire family was reunited here, and he could see none of them were in trouble.

He was probably thinking it was you sending him a text about how well you wanted your burger. Or something like that. And that’s when...

Your oldest son was coming with a plate full of uncooked food for the barbecue, and was about to settle it on the table next to his dad, but his phone was in the way. So he took it in his hand, and as he settled the plate Bruce’s phone rung again.

You stood up, and called out, a little panicked :

“No no no wait Dick ! Hey ! Don’t look at-”

Too late. You could see, as your son turned very pale, eyes widening and looking very ill, that he saw what you send your husband...

Damn it. And it was a very imaginative one at that, today...You sighed, knowing what was about to happen.

“WHAT THE FUCK ?!”

Dick turned towards his father, looking as if he had just been betrayed. And Bruce has no idea what’s happening.

“WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE YOUR PHONE OUT LIKE THAT IF THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE GONNA RECEIVE ?!”

And suddenly, your husband understands. And he’s not sure if he’s amused or if he wants to frown at you. He gives you a quick glance, and you shrug. You definitely didn’t intend on traumatizing your son with this...

Dick takes hold of his salad bowl, looks at his father straight in the eyes and says :

“You disgust me.” Oh, but it was said in such an overdramatic, over the top way. It was impossible for you not to grin.

And on that note, absolutely outraged and rather grossed out, Dick leaves to go grumpily eat his salad, alone at one of the outside table. Slowly, his siblings go to him, wondering what happened and why he screamed like that.

But as they see you slowly laugh your ass off, as they see their father who’s not sure if he should be flustered, ashamed or amused, and as they see Dick’s face...They all understand the subject of it all. They don’t know the exact things that happened. But they know their parents enough, and particularly the way you sometimes couldn’t get your hands off of each others, to know what this all was about.

Cue a bunch of “oh no ewwwww”, and a few “in front of your salad ?!” doubled with “this is a family event...”, and you definitely can’t stop laughing.

You feel a little bad, because you really didn’t intend on your son seeing what you had to say. And this was definitely one of the worst thing that happened on the spectrum of “my parents are gross...ly in love”. But you can’t help it. Your kids’ faces are just too funny.

And the way Bruce tries to resist looking at his phone to see what you said, while obviously being very curious (and feeling a little hot, the heat outside not being the reason)...it was just the icing on the cake.

So what if you were a little evil, and liked to tease him a bit too much ? And what if there were some little collateral damages along the way ?

As you always said, nobody was perfect.

Sometimes, it is welcomed.

Oh but there are days. Harder than others. Where you do it, not to fluster or annoy him, but to take his mind off of his troubles.

Like right now.

You could see him, in the middle of this sea of people. Not feeling like he belongs. And dwelling on painful past events.

You went to get him a drink, for once. You left him alone for a few minutes, as you made your way to the bar and ordered the usual non-alcoholic drinks you two got. But when you turned around...

Here he was.

Lost. In a place he did not want to be in, but had to so he could keep the “Brucie” facade he put up all those years. So the suspicion about him being Batman could never even start. And so he could put his money to good use.

Charity, rebuilding the city, funding schools, hospitals...All of this required his presence.

But oh. Oh he really didn’t want to be there. If it was up to him, he would probably be home, with his kids, in front of a movie they chose. Bonus point if you were snuggled up to him.

This was his “one night a week” he HAD to not go out as Batman. And it killed you, that this night was too often used for such events...

But alas, choosing the life you both chose required certain sacrifices. Including a few hours mingling with people you don’t even like, to try and make your city a better place.

There was, however, something you could do for him. Something that would cheer him up, in this moment of “I wish I was somewhere else”.

The “dirty texting to fluster Bruce” tactic wasn’t only used in mischievous way, to make him fluster and blush and such.

No. No sometimes, sometimes it was used to cheer him up.

Like now.

Bruce’s mind was elsewhere, drowning in this sea of people he couldn’t even remember the names of.

Until a familiar “beep” resounded in his pocket.

The family “beep”.

Without a second thought, he takes his phone out and...

Yes. There are certain moments, in which you sending him the dirtiest text he ever read (and being the “most eligible bachelor” for quite a while, he already received quite the saucy sexte), while you are in public, instead of flustering him would...

He finds you in the crowd easily.

He always found it easy, to single you out. Even while amongst this many people. It’s because to him, you shine. Almost quite literally.

He never had any difficulties finding his way back to you, even in the most crowded places...Sometimes, he joked that it’s because he could feel his love for you guide him. When he feels extra sappy, he says it with a serious tone.

And he means it.

He does.

It’s easy, to find you. Because he knows where to look. As if instinct linked you to him all those years ago. And he knows. He knows it’s because he never loved anyone like he loves you.

And right now, as you sent him a particularly graphic text in the hope to take his mind off of whatever dark thoughts he was getting lost in, he definitely finds it extra easy to find your face.

There you are.

And he smiles at you. Widely. So pure. Rare, for a man like him.

Because he knows. He knows this time, you didn’t send this to him to fluster him in front of people, but to distract him.

And it works. Oh damn it works.

His smile turns “sexy”, as anyone would say, and he looks very smug, as you walk towards him.

In truth, whenever you send him such a text, he always feel a little rush. Wether you’re trying to fluster him, or just cheer him up.

That man was as in love with you as if it was the first day, forever stuck in the honeymoon phase...Why wouldn’t he appreciate receiving hot texts from you ?

Even when you were purposefully trying to make him blush, there was a little part of him, although it was infuriating how satisfied you look that you ALWAYS succeeded, that just loved those texts.

You’re right next to him now, handing him his drink. He takes it smoothly from your hand,

“Thank you, my love.”

You wink at him, reveling in his warmth, snuggling a little closer albeit staying rather discreet, as this was an official event, after all.

His hand squeeze your waist a little, and you know what he’s about to do. He bends down to your ear and whispers, all suave and smug :

“What was this about needing um, a little disciplining ?”

You smile, knowing your mission was a frank success as he’s definitely not thinking about not wanting to be there anymore. Well. He most likely does. But he’s not dwelling on pain and misery for sure. And he’s not thinking those dark thoughts he can have sometimes...

You give him a coy look, and then you say :

“When we get out of here, I’ll show you.”

Oh you make him melt. Unable to hide his bedroom eyes, he gives your forehead a chaste kiss in the hope to regain countenance.

But it’s too late. You successful diverged his thoughts from any darkness...But now all he can think about is you.

And what you told him you wanted him to do to you.

Yes. Sometimes...Sometimes, you sending him absolutely dirty texts in public was everything he needed to come back to life.

As ridiculous as this sounded.

You were his lifeline so many times...He had no idea, at this point, what he would do without you. He couldn’t go back to the way he lived before you. No. He couldn’t.

And you wouldn’t let him anyway. Because no matter what, you were here for him. Your unconditional love, and self-admittedly cheekiness was here for him.

Ah. How good it felt, to be the only one in the world that could show off about being able to “fluster” the Batman himself.

_________________________________________________

I think I haven’t written something that short in like...ever haha. I haven’t re-read myself, this is just a quick bonus story :). It’s really just a little fun thing to write, nothing too serious or detailed or with too much feels ^^'. A quick drabble written for the sake of writing haha. I hope you liked it anyway, and aren’t disappointed or something ?

Just wanted to show an unknown almost “evil” side to Batmom ? Hahahaha. Anyway : Any comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated ^^. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with an actual story ! There’s one coming just this week-end ;).

2K notes · View notes

yourwildsimp · 3 years ago

Note

can i get 33 and 42 sorry if your request isn’t open anymore^ - ^

33. "What's wrong?" 42. "Would you just hold still?"

includes: levi, y/n

warnings: levi insults you (but he doesn't honestly mean it), probably inaccurate injury treatment (I am not a doctor-)

length: 3,110 words

summary: No one else seemed to notice; not his squad, not Hange, not even the Commander. But you did. You saw the way he avoided putting pressure on his ankle, the way his habits were quick to change. You weren't going to let the man torture himself any longer, come loose-spoken slanders or half-hearted struggles. And who knows? You might discover very interesting details about your elusive Captian.

A/N: I had a few ideas on where to take this, so I hope you like the one I chose. And yes! My requests are very much open! You can make your own request here for angst and here for fluff.

It had started with small hints, ones you hardly picked up on.

Levi had begun to clean the horse stables rather than train with his ODM gear. Even though you were concerned, you figured Humanity's Strongest Soldier wasn't exactly lacking in vertical maneuvering skill. Besides, everyone knew of the fondness Levi had for his horse.

But then he started leaving the mess hall last, too. He made sure every person was gone before slipping into a side hallway. It didn't matter if he was done eating before everyone else, or if he was even eating at all. You forced yourself to believe it was to reprimand whoever left the largest mess.

Yet the brightest red flag was when he stopped his nightly surveillance walks around the perimeter. Or so, that's what he called them.

On any other given night, Levi could be found circling the grounds. His head would be tilted up to view the starry sky, accentuating his sharp jawline. He'd tense and still at every nightly sound, mentally determining if there was a threat of any kind. (Not that you were watching him often enough to know every fine detail, of course.) You even once saw him startle when a bird suddenly flew from a nearby bush. It never happened again, but you had found it adorable.

So knowing that Levi was locked away in the library when he should be marveling at the full moon? It bothered you. A lot. Which is the exact reason you mustered up every bit of your courage to walk into the same room as him.

Cold eyes snapped up to the now opened door, and something foreign clouded his features. He looked back towards his book before you could decipher what the expression on his face was.

The air surrounding him felt stressed. Anxious, even.

You, stubborn as ever, pressed on into the small room, stalking right over to where he sat. Levi simply scoffed, closing his book and placing it face down.

"What do you want, Cadet?" he tsked, cutting features nearly intimidating you enough to leave.

"Captain, with all due respect, I want to know what's wrong."

His eyes narrowed, and you saw something from under the table move. You just now realized that his leg was previously resting on the flat part of another chair.

"Excuse me?" Levi held a dangerous tone. He wanted to scare you away, frighten you enough to stop questioning him. He was almost successful.

You took a deep breath, eyes drifting towards the book he was reading. Levi was quick to shield the description with his hand and forearm.

"You haven't been yourself recently," you started. Your gaze slowly navigated back to Levi's face, only to find a scowl tainting his lips.

"You don't know enough about me to understand-"

"You've stopped your hand-to-hand combat training, your gear training, and you've even stopped sitting in the treetops." He didn't like how you'd cut him off, but you weren't finished. "You don't leave the mess hall quickly anymore. You're now almost always the first one there, which is strange because you usually bring your food all the way to your office. You've even stopped your nightly walks, and you love those."

Your little rant left him closing his mouth from a forgotten attempt to speak. After a moment of collecting his thoughts, he simply said, "I don't go on walks. I make sure there are no outside threats because everyone else is too busy fiddling with the sticks up their asses to do it themselves."

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling at his wording or mentioning the bird. You wanted to keep that incident to yourself.

"And I don't appreciate you stalking me," Levi added, his hand clenching and unclenching. You chose to ignore the false accusation to return your focus on the book. And you watched as Levi forced his hand to relax.

"What are you reading?"

"None of your damn business." The answer came as soon as the question left your lips.

The defiance in your eyes made him tilt his head to the side as you tenaciously pulled out a chair to sit down.

"I don't remember asking you to join me," Levi sneered, though oddly, it lacked his usual bite.

"I don't remember you giving my questions a proper answer," you said matter-of-factly.

The flicker of shock in his eyes was well worth the mini-heart attack you suffered right after the words left your lips. You also chose to believe you imagined the ghost of a smirk on his mouth.

You pressed on before he could talk you into leaving, "I want to know what you're reading, at the very least."

Levi leaned back in his chair, the book's description still covered. "I'm not required to tell you anything. This isn't an interrogation, Cadet."

"Would you answer my questions even if it was?" you scoffed, settling your hands down in your lap.

Levi gave a puff of air through his nose that could almost pass for a chuckle. "No, I wouldn't. You're as intimidating as a fly."

You grit your teeth together, balling your hands up. "Well, maybe I'm not trying to be intimidating! Maybe, just maybe, I'm simply concerned for you. Maybe you're scaring me because you love the moon and have stopped seeing it!" You weren't yelling, but you weren't exactly whispering either. "Maybe I just want to help someone I care about."

Levi held his breath and glanced away towards the open window before swallowing thickly. "That's a lot of 'maybes'," he murmured.

Nothing else was said. You worried about what he'd do because you backtalked him, but you were foolish enough not to care. Though, Levi now seemed absorbed in whatever was outside, fingertips tracing over the back of the book.

After another stressful heartbeat, he pushed the book in front of you, not saying a word. You blinked widened eyes at him and glanced at the book before looking back at him. Sure, you came here to help, but you really didn't expect him to let you.

"Thank you, Captain," you breathed, picking up the book and flipping it over.

Fixing Your Foot & Ankle Pain.

Levi could've laughed at the look on your face, and he watched you read over the title once more. "Great, can I have my book back now, officer?" he asked, dangerously close to sounding smug.

"Not yet." You ignored the sigh he gave. "Why didn't you just let me see it before? Is something wrong with your foot?"

He chewed the inside of his lip before offering a simple answer, "no."

"Then let me see."

"What?"

"I said let me see your foot, Captain. If you are hurt, then I can't have you pushing yourself. You'll make it worse," you said pointedly, pushing the book across the table from you.

"'I can't?'" he quoted. "Don't you mean the 'Corps can't'?"

You didn't answer him in favor of standing up and moving to the foot that was once resting on another chair.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he warned, stiffly moving his leg away from you.

"I'm just checking. It shouldn't be an issue because you're fine, right?"

Levi clenched his jaw, cracking a couple of his knuckles. He didn't pull away from you, nor did he hit you, which is a huge plus.

That is until you tried to get his boot off.

"Oi, don't take it off-"

"Then how am I supposed to look at it? I don't have X-Ray vision," you snapped, waiting for him to settle before you started taking it off again.

"This is stupid," he grumbled, looking up at the ceiling with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, it is stupid that I had to track you down to help you," you bitterly argued, neatly placing his boot aside. You then carefully rolled up his pants leg and took off his sock. Your eyes widened as you stared at how swollen Levi's ankle was. "Levi- are you serious? This is terrible!"

His withering scowl burned down at you, eyes narrowed and deadly at the use of his first name. You didn't seem to notice what you had called him, too worried over his ankle.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth when I had asked?" You didn't even know where to begin with this man.

"I did. My foot is fine."

"Fine? Your ankle is more inflated than the capital mens' egos, sir."

Your joke defanged the bite in his eyes but, despite how funny Levi found it, his only reaction was a huff. "Yeah, my ankle is puffed up. Not my foot, genius."

You glared at him coldly before you stood up, placing your hands on your hips. "Alright," you started, "stay here while I go get the splint and some ice."

"I don't need it."

"You have a second-degree sprain, Captain. You should've iced it as soon as you could. But you didn't. So, now I'm going to take care of you since you can't be bothered to care for yourself," you scolded.

Well then. Excuse me, Levi sarcastically thought, watching you leave after another demand for him not to go anywhere.

While you were gone, he decided to ignore your orders and put the book away. He swallowed a grunt when he sat down again, glancing at the door in case you were there.

As the minutes ticked by, he huffed like an impatient child, his nails scratching and toying with the wood of the table. When you had finally came back, he halfheartedly greeted you with a groan.

"You took too long. Did you take a shit?" Levi grumbled bluntly, leaning his head back as he looked at you.

He nearly grinned as the items you took your precious time to grab poured out of your arms just before you answered. You picked up a few rogue bandages, and Levi glanced away when you looked up.

"If clumsiness was a currency, you'd be as rich as the king," Levi scoffed.

"And if being secretive little gnome was a job, you'd be the CEO of the company," you fired back as you placed the medical things on the table. He tsked, muttering something you didn't quite understand before sitting up in his seat.

"I thought all you needed was some ice and a splint. Why the hell did you grab an entire hospital's supply?"

"Well, Captain, who knows what else you didn't tell anyone about. For all I know, you have fractured ribs, too. Maybe a few fresh gashes that you hardly cleaned up." You gave him such a persistent look that he couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he huffed, carefully tracking you as you rounded the table to tend his ankle.

"That's another thing I've noticed! You don't sleep, and when you do, it's not even in your-" you cut yourself off. The look that crossed your face reminded Levi of the expression Erwin has whenever a cadet asks something stupid. "Where's the book?'

"Why? Can't help me without it?" he challenged.

"It's not that, it's just..." You trailed off, not saying anything for a second or two. "Did you put it up? I specifically told you not to move."

"And I specifically ignored you," he shot back, watching your nose flare when you huffed.

"You know what? Fine. Just be quiet and give me your ankle." Levi was caught off guard by the growl in your voice.

He scowled but didn't speak a word as you started treating his ankle.

It was quiet. Despite the untouched hostility in the air, it was almost peaceful. Until Levi ruined it. Again.

"How do you know I don't sleep in my bed? Are you smelling my blankets while I'm out of them?"

Your shoulders sagged with how heavy your sigh was.

"No, I don't sneak into the guys' sleeping quarters to roll in your sheets, Captain." The thought would be nice to indulge on later, though. "I just know that you often fall asleep at your desk. That's bad for your bones structure, sir. You'll cramp more often, disfigure your stature, develop an asymmetric-"

"And you, Cadet? How's your sleep cycle, huh?" he cut you off, seeing the newfound tightness in your jaw. "Scolding me while you're struggling to stay conscious at the eating tables. Seems real hypocritical, doesn't it?"

You didn't respond. You couldn't; he was right. The bastard typically was.

"I'm done treating your ankle," you began softly, each of your fingers messaging your palms. "You have to stay off of it, sir. If you keep pushing yourself, you'll end up not being able to walk."

There was a pause in the air, your breath hanging like abandoned ODM gear. Levi picked up on the temporarily unspoken words, so he tapped his middle finger on the table and waited.

"As strange as this sounds..."

That's not a good way to start a sentence, Levi thought.

"I need you to take off your shirt. Sir."

Levi dismissed what you have just boldly said to his face with a light scoff. After your silence lingered for a beat too long, Levi shifted his jaw. "You're serious?"

"I just need to check your upper body for damage," you added gently.

Levi tsked, "I don't fucking see why."

Before you could argue any further, he was already tugging off the long-sleeved grey shirt. You cleared your throat and glanced at the surrounding bookshelves, suddenly absorbed with the task of finding the book Levi had put away.

With a thick swallow, you looked back at him, avoiding his eyes like a plague. He watched your brows furrow as you looked closer.

"What's this from?" you asked, letting your thumb trace underneath a fresh slice in between his ribs. He jerked away from you with a snarl, and you glared at him.

"A branch from the last mission caught me," he grumbled, eyeing your hand that was now hovering over his skin.

"Let me guess, you didn't say anything to anyone?"

"Look at you using that empty head of yours."

You rubbed the bridge of your nose with your offhand before grabbing everything you needed; cleansing alcohol, tweezers, a cotton ball, and smaller bandages. For whatever reason, Levi was more defensive about you tending to his ribs than his ankle.

"Oi, I'm fine. You've done plenty, now get lost," he sneered, fingers twitching as you held the cotton ball with the tweezers and soaked it in alcohol.

"Captin, let me just do this and you can move on to stargazing, okay?" you asked halfheartedly. You didn't get a response other than vulgarities.

You started cleaning his previously hidden injury. Well, trying to, at the very least.

"Would you just hold still?" you snapped. He kept jerking and twisting away for your healing hands. "This is taking longer than it should because of you."

You pressed under the wound and in between his ribs to test how tender it was. Levi made a noise so out of place that both of you had paused.

Did he just..?

You looked up at him, holding your breath. He wouldn't look at you, eyes burning holes into the library door.

"Sir, are you-"

"No."

You were probably out of line for doing so, but you pressed around his ribs again in hopes of proving your suspicions. And it turns out you were right.

Levi strangled out a laugh that was clearly meant to be held in. It sounded like heaven on earth. Deep and smooth as butter as you continued to torture his ribs. A smile slowly blossomed on your face.

It didn't last long, Levi swatting your hands away so he could catch his breath, now defending the spot with his life.

"You damned brat," he panted, eyeing you from the corner of his eye.

"I didn't think you could be ticklish," you grinned wickedly as you grabbed the bandages. "That is... Incredible," you snickered to yourself, unwrapping the length that you needed. You tapped his wrist that was blocking his ribs with your middle and index finger, looking at him expectantly.

"If you even try to do that again, I will wrap those bandages around your throat," he threatened. It didn't really sound like he'd carry it out, but you weren't about to test your luck.

You watched as his entire torso tensed, and you as gently as possible wrapped up his cut. Levi relaxed only when you sat back on your heels and began to put everything away.

It was quiet once again, and you felt Levi watch you as you cleaned up your mess. Only once everything was scooped into your arms, you stepped away from him.

Hesitation hung in the air as you both thought of what you should say. You cleared your throat with a grin before walking towards the bookshelves. "Want any reading material while we wait, Captain?" you asked, looking for your own book.

"Wait for what?" he asked skeptically.

"Until the time comes for me to change your bandages," you hummed. You were too busy reading the back of the book you'd picked up for yourself to see how Levi shook his head.

"Fucking hell," he sighed, getting comfortable as he looked out the window. "I don't need a book, Cadet. Sit down already."

You stopped, blinking to yourself as you replayed what he just said in your head. He just invited you to join him. You smiled at the thought, grabbing a book that caught your attention. You practically floated to the seat across from Levi and made yourself at home.

You two stayed like this for a while- Levi being enthralled with the moon, and you caught up in your book. You were too busy reading to notice how he'd look at you now and then.

The time to change his bandages came and went without either of you moving. It was almost, dare you to say, domestic. It wasn't until Levi heard small snores that he carefully stood up.

He looked down at your sleeping face, something uncomfortably sweet bubbling in his chest before he fixed your hair. He stared at you for a minute, just watching the way your chest rose and fell as you breathed.

"Damned brat," he mumbled quietly. Nimble fingers gently peeled the book from you, and he limped as he put it where you got it from. Levi sighed softly, glancing longingly at the window sill. He internally debated on a few things before returning to the table.

Though this time, he sat next to your sleeping frame.

#Ash's Requests!#anon ask #request open #soft levi #levi attack on titan #levi aot #levi ackerman #levi fluff #snk levi #shingeki no kyoujin levi #aot fluff #snk fluff #i am so soft for this man #this ask was so nice #thank you

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writesowhatnext · 5 years ago

Text

elementary, my dear weasley // fred weasley

Summary: Fred receives an anonymous love letter so he enlists his best friend to help him figure it out

Request: Could you write some fluffy Fred W x Reader? The reader gives Fred an anonymous love letter but since they’re friends, he asks her to help him figure out who it is? You can go anywhere from there! Thank you x

A/N: this is such a super cute prompt so I really hope I can do it justice

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: none actually, I think

As Fred walked towards you with a very serious look on his face, you regretted every decision you’d ever made, simultaneously. Why did you tell your mum that your cat had broken the vase? Why did you snog that boy in first year? Why did you dye Ron’s hair pink and let the twins take the fall? Why did you start your last Charms essay the day it was due? Why did you write Fred that stupid letter? Your mind was in overdrive trying to devise a getaway plan, if you avoided Fred now then he’d definitely come and find you at some point but then, at least you could be more emotionally prepared for rejection. How had he even found out it was you? You’d gone to extreme lengths to throw him off the scent.

In your panic, you’d forgotten to actually try to execute any form of escape plan and so there you sat, a sitting duck, with Fred Weasley charging towards you. You winced as he slammed the familiar paper down in front of you, familiar handwritten peeking out from between his spread fingers. You looked up from his hand to his face very, very reluctantly. And for some reason, he was smiling.

“You will never guess what I’ve just found.”

You frowned, watching him with a fairly healthy level of confusion as he dragged a chair to sit at your table. He ignored the annoyed looks from the Gryffindors at the table he’d stolen from and sat down, pushing your letter towards you.

“Read that.”

Your frown deepened as you slowly pulled the letter toward you. What sort of mind game was he playing?

Your heart beat loudly in your ears with every word you read: from the ‘Dear Fred,’ to the ‘With love.’, you’d reread and checked the letter more times then you could count and you could practically recite it by heart at this point. When you left it for him, it had been a good idea, now it just filled you with regret and a horrible sick feeling in your stomach. You raised your head to look at him and hummed, carefully watching his reaction.

“Hmmm?” he asked incredulously, snatching the letter back and staring at it. “I know it’s not surprising because I mean, come on, but surely someone confessing their love to me via the timeless art of letter-writing deserves more than a ‘hmmm’, don’t you think?”

You stared at him for a moment. All the while, he just looked at you expectantly. And then it clicked; Fred had no idea you sent that letter. Your mouth fell open slightly as you tried to figure out how you would behave in this situation – if it was someone else that’d been hopelessly in love with Fred.

“Let me read it again.” You insisted, pulling it from his hands. You didn’t read it; you just stared down at parchment, trying to figure out what you were going to do about it. He didn’t know it was you; that was perfectly clear. It would be fine. He never needed to know it was you, not really.

“Who do you think wrote it?”

Happy that you were finally asking the right questions, Fred smiled and rested his elbows on the table.

“That’s what I need your help to find out.”

“You want to find out who sent it?” you asked loudly. Perhaps a little too loudly, you discovered; a couple of people in the common room looked up at you.

“Do I-“ Fred shook his head. “Blimey, Y/N, what has got into you today? Of course, I want to find out who sent it.”

“Why?”

Fred could not fathom your behaviour right now – his fish impression proved that. Once he’d stopped opening and closing his mouth, he placed a hand on the paper, pointing at it with his finger.

“Whoever wrote this says that I am the sunshine of their world, Y/N.” he shot you a deadpan look. “The sunshine of their world.”

You made a face, your composure slipping, a horrible cringing sensation coming over you. “And?”

“And…” he stressed, rolling his eyes. “I want to find out who thinks so highly of yours truly.”

“To do what?”

“Bloody hell, Y/N, what’s with all the questions?” Fred huffed, making a face. “I just want to figure out who sent it – I have to talk to them.”

You wanted to know what he meant by that but you couldn’t afford to keep asking questions without raising some sort of suspicion.

“So how are you going to figure out who?”

“Well,” he said, frowning. “That’s why I’m here. George took a look and said that if anyone could help me, it was you. So, dear, dear Y/N, any ideas?”

You paused for a moment, confused. Why would George think you knew who wrote it? Sure, you knew a fair few people but you were hardly Sherlock sodding Holmes. It was probably a coincidence, you thought. Though, the strange nervous feeling in your stomach lingered.

“Well,” you leant your chin on your elbow. “Tell me how you found it.”

The smile that lit up his face at the promise of your help was almost enough to quash your guilt at the fact that this definitely, probably, certainly qualified as lying to him.

You barely listened as he talked you through his morning routine. He’d woken up, late as usual, and thrown on his robes because he thought it was Monday – it was not. When he was rifling through them to find some Helium Toffees that he swore – though you were thoroughly unconvinced - he didn’t plan to use on you, he found a folded-up section of parchment. And, the first thing he did was smell it.

“You what?” you asked, definitely now listening. “What did you do that for?”

“To see where it came from.” He replied as if it were obvious.

You frowned at him, lost for words. Not only had you not disguised any sort of smell when you’d written it, you were also kind of worried about Fred’s mental state that that was his first thought.

“So, what did it smell like then?”

“Nothing, really.”

You stared at him for a moment. You were exasperated, for sure, but you couldn’t help the way your stomach flopped, replacing it with fondness.

“Well given that very promising lead didn’t pan out-“

“Oi!” Fred poked you in this side, earning a hideously loud spout of laughter from you. You grumbled as he smiled proudly.

“What’s next?”

“Well,” he began, leaning forward as if revealing the biggest conspiracy to sweep the wizarding world since, well, Harry Potter. “I figure whoever it is has to be close to me, right? To get it in my robes and all.”

You tried to fault his logic, but you’d forgotten, with how horrible of a student he could be, that Fred was actually a genius when he wanted to be. You just nodded.

“I don’t know where to go from there though: I don’t recognise the handwriting; I don’t know when they put it in there; I can’t write one back-“

“You’d write back?” You tried to hide how breathless the thought made you.

“It’s like you know nothing about letter-writing etiquette.”

If only he knew.

Forgetting that you were trying not to be helpful, lest he discovered that you were his secret admirer, you were accidentally helpful.

“Didn’t you go through your pockets before you changed last night to find that chocolate frog Ron stole?”

“So, Ron stole that frog.” he turned to you, smirking. You remembered in that second that you’d promised Ron that you’d keep that information to yourself.

“What? Who told you that?”

He narrowed his eyes as you painted the most innocent expression you could on your face.

“But yeah, you’re right. So what?”

“So what?” This boy. “So, they must’ve put it in your robes after that.”

His face lit up.

“Okay so, who did you see after that?”

Finding his concentrated frown much cuter than you should’ve, you were almost disappointed when he started talking.

“George, Ron, You-“ you were both sad and happy that he didn’t pause. “Hermione?”

You shook your head, making a face. He nodded in agreement.

“Harry, Lee, Angelina. Do you think it was Angelina?”

You stomach sank at his excitement. “Could be.”

He smiled, leaning back on his chair, pleased with himself.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

He seemed surprised at your question as if he’d forgotten what the point of your detective work was.

“It’s still lunchtime, right?”

You looked at the clock on the wall. “Just about.”

“Come on then, my little detective.”

As you followed him to the Great Hall, you tried to ignore the way your heart jumped at the nickname.

When you reached the Hall, Angelina was sat down, surrounded by her friends. George was also there, probably late from his detention with Snape.

“Alright, George?” Fred said, nudging his shoulder against his brother’s. George looked at you, and then at Fred. Something was strange about his stare.

“Why do you look so happy?” George asked, crossing his arms.

“Y/N and I have cracked the case!”

“Oh, really?” When George looked at you almost pointedly, a lump formed in your throat. He knew.

“And I’m going to go seal the deal – wish me luck, Georgie.”

As Fred walked rather confidently over to Angelina, you and George stood shoulder to shoulder. In silence. It was eating you alive. Your mind swam with things to say: explanations, excuses, ways to make a clean exit.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.” He said, his tone light and a smile on his lips as he watched his brother strike up a conversation. Out of all the things he could’ve said, you hadn’t expected that. You looked up at him and he nodded over to Angelina’s confused face. “Letting him trot over there thinking Angelina wrote that letter? Very wicked.”

You paused before deciding you had nothing left to lose.

“What was I supposed to do? Tell him?”

“Yes.” George said as if it was obvious – his expression a carbon copy of Fred’s.

“He would hate me, George.”

He laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him. You wondered what about your misfortune he found so funny. “My sweet, sweet Y/N,” you both watched as Angelina’s friends burst into laughter. You felt even more guilty at Fred’s discouraged expression. “Fred could never hate you.”

As Fred returned to you, tail between his legs and ego wounded slightly, he didn’t even notice George’s arm around you. He just frowned, nodding.

“At least that narrows down our suspect pool.” Then he turned to George. “Up for helping us figure out the mystery?”

George let go of your shoulder, making apologetic gestures as he backed away.

“Sorry mate, still got detention.”

Fred made a face before turning to you. George winked as he left the Hall in the opposite direction of the dungeon.

“So, who’s left?”

You were worried about how short the list of possible authors was getting and George’s words were echoing in your head.

“Fred,” you started, tilting your head to the side. “I have to tell you something.”

“What?” he asked, frowning and crossing his arms.

“Well, I-“

You cursed yourself.

“So, I-“

“What I’m trying to say is that I…”

You closed your eyes and sighed.

“Basically this is really hard to say and I really don’t know what to do if you hate-”

“You wrote the letter?”

Your head shot up to see Fred, smirking with an eyebrow raised.

“I can’t believe you’d send me off to go ask Angelina whether she wrote it. Blimey, love, you’re more ruthless than I thought; should be a bloody Slytherin. It’s a good job I figured it out before I plundered over there like a right git.”

You blinked. What was happening? Why was Fred smiling? How did he know?

“You knew all along?”

He just smiled.

“Why- Why did-“ you stopped, mouth open. “Why did you make me help you?”

“Bit of fun,” he shrugged, pressing his lips together. “Wanted you to tell me.”

You placed your hand to your forehead, groaning. You must look like a right idiot.

“How did you know?”

“Smelt like you, didn’t it.”

You frowned, moving your head.

“You pay attention to what I smell like?”

“I pay attention to everything about you.”

He placed his hands on your hips. You were sure you’d short-circuited.

“The way you smell… the face you make when you lie… how suspicious you look when you’re messing with my robes.”

It was impossible, you thought, to be more embarrassed than you were in that exact moment.

“You saw me put it in there.”

“I saw you put it in there.” He said, pulling you into him. “Was quite pleased when I read it, actually, I’ve fancied you for years.”

“You’re lying.”

You placed your hands very tentatively on his chest, his soft jumper underneath your palms.

“There’s only one liar here.”

You made a face. He looked over your head, pursing his lips before looking down again.

“The sunshine of your world, ay?”

“Shut up.” You groaned, cringing again. He laughed, his whole body shaking. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” he moved his hand to the small of your back. “I was hoping it meant I could kiss you.”

You nodded, again at a loss for words.

“That alright with you?”

You just nodded.

#writing #imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter

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snlhostharry · 4 years ago

Text

romeo and juliet thing

harry styles x reader

“rivals” to lovers au

~3k words

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex

my piece for @meetmeinfleetwood ‘s to lovers challenge, congrats on your milestone!

a/n: amazing thing I realized while writing this: if you don’t put it off you can actually get it done in a reasonable amount of time... I will not be applying this to any other aspects of my life

You’ve come to enjoy album release parties. The first one you’d ever been to was the one for your first album, something someone from your publicity team has put together, which they did a decent job on but you did not have a good time. You were so nervous about the album coming out at all that you tried to use alcohol to calm your nerves, so you can’t really remember anything about it besides briefly throwing up in the bathroom. After that incident, you resolved not to drink before the party ever again and the next few you’d been too for other artists were actually fun in their own special ways.

By the time your second album is on the cusp on release, you’ve decided that you deserved it after the mess of writer's block you’d gotten in the middle of trying to write the thing, which had gotten so bad that you’d been called into a “special meeting” by management where they talked for what felt like hours about deadlines and marketing and basically tried to intimidate you into finishing faster. Something happened that allowed you to finish, it was an odd timing but it did help.

But that was ages ago, and you’re trying to focus on the party.

Which is easy enough, winding through the room talking to friends and investors, small talk is easy when you're trying to avoid something else. You’re talking to someone who’s name you are definitely not going to remember when this is over, when out of the corner of your eye you think you see someone who should definitely not be here. When you're finally released from said conversation you walk around the room, trying to find the intruder. You make your way all the way back to the bathroom, when suddenly the person you’ve been looking for slams right into you.

You’re far enough in a corner that you think no one can see you, which is good because if anyone got photos of the two of you together you would never hear the end of it. Harry Styles looks at you like he’s been caught in the act, the guilty expression not leaving his face even as he says, “Funny seeing you here.”

“At my own party?” You ask.

He licks his lips, trying to buy time to think of something to say. “Before you say anything,” He says, treading cautiously, “I was told to come here.”

You narrow your eyes, “By who?”

“Someone who works for me,” He replies, “Which means that someone who works for you gave them the information.”

You groan, “Of course they did, well at least make sure they get your good side when someone comes around to take photos.”

He smiles at that, “That’s every side, love.”

You shake your head, typing a message on your phone and quickly sending it, “It’s not but it’s cute that you think so.”

“Ignoring that little comment,” He says, seeing that your attention is divided between him and the person you seem to be very angrily texting. “It’s a good song you wrote, I’m excited to hear the rest of the album.”

“Oh,” You say, eyes widening, “Thank you..?” He tilts his head to the side gently, clearly his way of asking a question without actually asking a question. “Sorry, I just didn’t realize we were doing the thing where we pretend this is normal, and you are normally at my party.”

He laughs, “Didn’t know there was pretending involved.”

“I’m just so used to pretending to loathe you all day everyday that it's just so natural,” You say, and wait to see if he’ll get the joke.

He shrugs, “Really? I don’t think of you all that much.”

Your phone buzzes in your hand before you can respond, one message sits unread underneath the ten you’d sent a few minutes earlier in rapid succession. Honestly? I invited him because I thought it would be fun. Of course that would be her rationale for not telling you about this very obvious stunt. Inviting your “rival” to your album release party is the perfect way to get your name in some headlines conveniently before the whole thing goes live, not like you need them but then again you do pay people to manage this kind of thing so they figure they should be doing something.

Oh yeah, Harry is supposed to be your “rival.” Think of some of the most infamous musical feuds of all time, and then knock it down a few pegs, and that’s where you would put yours and harrys. No one knows how it really started, something between a couple of twitter stans you’ve been told, but it suddenly gave each of your respective “people” the genius idea to milk that kind of exposure for all that it’s worth. The two of you have been pit against each other ever since the release of your debut albums, both self titled and both released within two weeks of each other. It hasn’t harmed either of you, being compared to the other, since you’re both pretty evenly matched in terms of talent.

It seems to only exist to make the occasional headline when the media remember that it “exists.” There have been headlines wondering if you’ve mentioned him in tik toks (you didn’t) in instagram posts (you were shading someone but not him) and if this whole thing started due to a one night stand that went the wrong way (definitely not).

You pull yourself back into the conversation, realizing you're being rude trying to think of something to respond to the text message. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“Who are you rage tweeting over there?”

“Rage texting actually,” You say as another one comes through, “Fucking Melanie.”

“Unfortunate that her parents gave her that as a first name.”

You look up at him right away, “Not funny.” He laughs at his own joke anyway, “Melanie-” You say, holding up your phone for dramatic effect, “Is the head of the PR team, which is three people but anyway she is the one who seems to have coordinated this whole thing as a prank on me apparently.”

“It’s kind of funny,” He says.

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m sure from your point of view it is.” Suddenly, someone comes rounding the corner near where the two of you are standing, and you freeze on instinct until they pass right in front of you without even looking in your direction. You realize that in a panic, you’d grabbed onto Harry’s hand and you decide that the two of you are going to have to finish this conversation somewhere else. “Come with me,” You sigh, leading him through the back of the room all the way to a small door that leads to an outside area at the back of the venue. You look at him again, his eyes glinting in the lights hanging above your heads. “What were we talking about?”

“Are you ever listening to me?” He asks, half joking.

“Don’t take it personally I’m only half listening to everyone,” You answer, “It’s called multitasking.”

“Seems tiring.”

“Better than being bored,” You say.

He looks at you for a second without saying and then shoves his hands in his pockets, “Why are we out here again?”

“I’m trying to figure out what’s the game plan here, if you’re supposed to be seen here alone, seen with me, if I’m supposed to throw some kind of tantrum about it.”

“Besides the one your already throwing?”

You stop looking at your phone, “Ouch.”

“Punishment for continuing to ignore me.”

You turn off your phone and hold it in your hand gently, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening, but only if you’re going to say something that it’s some kind of thinly veiled insult,” You click your tongue, “You’re one of those guys who flirts by making fun of girls aren’t you?”

He thinks about it, “That’s a type?”

“Yeah, for people who are still mentally in high school.”

“So you wouldn't be interested then?”

You smile, thinking about it. Here’s the thing, despite the fact you very much have been pretending to loathe Harry Styles for two years just so you don’t slip it if someone asks, you recognise now that he is objectively attractive. The curls, and the eyes and the borderline too busy suit jacket he’s wearing (that both of you know costs an exorbitant amount) is all contributing to a look that is working for you at the moment. Also working in his favor? The semi enemies to lovers arc that you have going on in your head. “Despite the fact that I think that kind of flirting is beneath you, at this moment, it’s currently working for me.”

You take a step forward, closer to him, and suddenly your phone starts going off again. You check it briefly, trying very much not to ruin the moment but very cognizant of the fact that this is your party and people are going to start noticing if you're gone. You look down, see it’s not a life or death emergency and look right back at Harry. “Let me guess,” He says, “She wants you to kiss me for the cameras?”

You laugh, “No, but I’m going to do it anyway.” You kiss him, he leans in and you think that you might just seal the deal with harry styles out on this very nice patio when your phone rings again. You pull away when it’s clear that whoever it is needs you desperately, you look at the message, and groan, “Fucking Melaine.” You look towards the door and back at Harry, “Okay this is not over, but I have to go take care of stuff, so just meet me here after the whole thing is over and we will finish this thing.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” You smile, “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers, like Romeo and Juliet without the ending.” You pause, “Well maybe with the end if Melanie kills me with her bare hands for not talking to this producer she wants me to meet.”

“Later, then.”

You take him back to your apartment that night. And you invite him back the next day, and then the week and then a few more times after that. As much as you had meant it a joke at the time, the kind of forbidden lovers aspect of trying to keep this whole thing under wraps is sexy in a way that you would never admit outloud.

You’ve both become shockingly adept at sneaking in and out of apartments, neighborhoods (Harry has multiple priorities; why that is you're not exactly sure) and sometimes clubs if you're in a group and it’s dark enough that you think no one will see you.

“Should I climb up through the window?” You ask Harry as you stand in the backyard of his house in London, swimsuit clad even though you’ve gone nowhere near the pool.

Harry looks at you from his place on the ground next to you. He’d refused to get a chirhair to sit on, so he just sits on the ground, looking out over the pool and the fence. “Why would you do that?”

“Romeo and Juliet thing, didn’t he climb through the window to see her?”

He shrugs, wrapping his arms around your bare legs in some attempt to keep your attention on him, “I don’t know, never read it.” He laughs a little, “But I think if you did that some pap would catch you with your ass hanging out of my window.”

You laugh too, “And you would never fucking stop laughing at that.”

“No, I would not.”

You kick your leg out so that you almost hit him right in the face, “Fucker, I thought you were over being mean to me as a tactic. You have successfully romanced me.”

“Really? Because you’re staring at the house like you’re going to kill me for my money.”

“You’d put me in your will? That’s sweet,” You turn to him, pulling your sunglasses onto the top of your head.

“You are so hot right now.”

“It is hot,” You say, looking out at the clear sky, “What an observation.”

“You’re screwing with me.”

“Because I’m too tired to screw you at the moment,” You say, “Can’t we just enjoy one day in one of your two properties out in the sun before you start making me exercise?”

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

“It is work,” You say, rolling your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that song you played yesterday, I think it needs to be less.. Ethereal.”

“What does that mean?”

You sit down next to him, laying your head in the grass. “Harry Styles is a rockstar, if you’re going to do a sad song, which seems to be your specialty, it needs to at least have a beat.”

“People don’t want to dance to sad songs.”

“Dude,” You say matter of factly, “Of course they do, I do and I think I speak for a very large section of the United States population.You need a sad song you can at the very least scream too, if not full out dance.”

“So what’s your suggestion?” He asks.

“Add more guitar,” You tell him, “Like a lot more. Take all the lyrics you have and put them on a track that sounds like it should be about your new puppy or something.”

“Who writes songs about puppies?”

“It was an example, H.” You sigh, “but you get the point.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t be like that.” He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you let it go as one of his moods for a while. But it goes on for longer than you thought it would be, and eventually you sit up. He’s staring down at his phone, frozen, and then he starts typing without saying anything to you. “What are you looking at?” You ask him, and he doesn’t say anything. “What is it H?” You ask again.

“Fuck it all,” He says, dropping his phone to the ground, and covering his face with his hands as he laid down with his head in the grass.

You pick his phone up off the ground and see that he’s opened twitter. Staring right back at you is a picture of the two of you kissing outside a small restaurant from the night before, you rack your brain trying to think if you saw anywhere when you were there and you swore you didn’t. Like it or not, everyone is going to know about the two of you now, including Melanie who had told you not to interact with Harry after the party expressly. “Shit,” You say, and your phone begins to ring the sound of Temporary Fix filling the small backyard.

“Fucking Melanie,” Harry says, still lying on the ground, “She’s going to ream me.”

“Well at least she’ll do it to both of us,” You groan, not even bothering to go and get your phone. You stand up, as a tension headache begins to form in your temples, “Well I’m going to get into the pool.”

“Now?” He asks you. “Seems like the perfect way to avoid this problem, doesn’t it?”

He also gets to his feet, and takes your hand, “Yeah it does.”

And together the two of you jump into the pool.

It’s an hour before you finally call Melanie back, even though you meant to avoid it for at least another hour. You sit at the kitchen counter while Harry takes a call in another room, dreading this call because you do not want to hear her yell at you for nothing, mostly because you're a grown woman and are above being lectured.

“Were you just not going to tell me about this?”

“Yes, that was the plan.”

“I told you not to-”

“Yeah but I had already made plans by then that I couldn’t cancel.”

“There was one man in the entire world, who you couldn’t fuck-”

“I know, what are the odds?”

“Could you please stop fucking with me for one second?” She says, “This is serious.”

“It’s not that bad, for you I mean.” You shrug, “I mean for me my personal business is all out on the internet now and I’ll be permanently known as one of Harry Styles’ girlfriends but for you what’s better press wise than a good ol enemies to lovers arc? I won’t tell anyone the enemies part wasn’t real if you won’t.”

You hear her sigh from the other end of the phone, and then tap her nails against the desk. “You might be onto something there.”

“I’m always onto something Melanie, I’m the artist here aren’t I?” And you hang up, before you say something that you’ll regret. You’d meant what you said, you were mostly just uncomfortable with everyone knowing who you're dating, especially the harry twitter stans who are known for being very excitable to say the least, you could see why they liked him so much but you would be lying if you said they didn’t scare you. You think of all the interviews you’ll do in the future where people will ask about him, about your relationship and maybe about how it ended.

Harry comes back into the kitchen and grabs two beers from the fridge. He opens both and sets one out in front of you. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” You say. You look at him, “Is this the part where we break up because you can’t be seen with me?” You put your face into the counter and let out another groan.

“Never,” He says, taking a drink, “No one else I would rather weather this shit-storm with.”

You smile, “Same here.”

#guys.. I wrote this so fast #it only took me two days #which makes me nervous that it's bad because it was so fast #but anyway #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction

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the-slytherin-writer-12 · 4 years ago

Text

Best Daughter Ever: Chapter 1 “I am Iron Man” pt 1

A/N: this story is kind of going to be an AU. There are specific things that will happen in this story that aren’t canon and there are things that won’t happen that are canon. For example, in the future Steve is going to be closer to Tony and Y/N than in the canon MCU. I hope all of this makes sense. Also, let me know if you would like to be included in my taglist.

Word count: 3,652

General Masterlist

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

2008

Y/N sat in the living room of the Malibu house. Her dad was supposed to be on a plane to Afghanistan for a weapons presentation. But, being Tony Stark, he was in his lab working on his hot rod.

Taking over Stark Industries had definitely been hard on Tony back when he was 21. But getting married at 30 and having a kid at 30 was stressful as well. Not to mention that his wife died and he was a single parent. Tony had lost himself in grief and stress. He gambled, he drank, and he spent a lot of his time in his garage. But he did make sure to spend time with his daughter.

Pepper just walked in with the clothes of some woman that spent the night. Y/N figured it was a friend of her dad’s, but she wasn’t so sure about the ‘friend’ part because she was wearing her dad’s shirt from last night with nothing under it but her undergarments. As to not get in trouble for eavesdropping, she placed some wireless headphones on and played ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ on her StarkTablet.

“I’ve got your clothes here. They’ve been dry-cleaned and pressed, and there’s a car waiting for you outside that will take you anywhere you’d like to go,” Pepper spoke professionally. Anyone looking at her, whether they knew her or not, could tell that she was uncomfortable.

The lady walked forward.

“You must be the famous Pepper Potts,” she spoke. Pepper smiled and clasped her hands together.

“Indeed I am.”

“After all these years, Tony still has you picking up his laundry?” The woman jabbed. Pepper looked shocked but quickly recovered.

“I do anything and everything Mr. Stark requires, including, occasionally, taking out the trash. Will that be all?” she asked sweetly. The woman looked taken aback but cleared her throat, turned around, and walked away.

Y/N looked up from her tablet and met Pepper’s smirk.

“How’d I do?” Pepper asked. Y/N looked back down and shrugged.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Auntie Pep,” The little girl said, looking back up and flashing her a charming Stark smile and batted her eyelashes. Pepper chuckled and held a hand out to the little Stark.

“You are your father’s daughter. Come on. Let’s go get your dad,” she laughed. Y/N took off her headphones and set them down along with the tablet. She got off the couch and took Pepper’s hand.

As the two were walking down the stairs, Pepper got a phone call. Y/N chuckled as she heard Tony’s music blasting throughout the garage.

Pepper punched in her access code and walked in, making J.A.R.V.I.S pause the music that was blasting.

“Please don’t turn down my music,” Tony said, not looking up from what he was working on.

“Come, on Daddy. That song wasn’t even good,” Y/N said, letting go of Pepper’s hand and walking over to her dad. Tony turned around and smiled at his daughter, hoisting her up to sit in his lap with an exaggerated grunt.

“When did you get so big, missy?” He teased. Y/N giggled and playfully hit her dad on her shoulder, causing him to gasp and feign hurt.

“You’re supposed to be halfway around the world right now,” Pepper said, after putting her phone away.

“How’d she take it?”

“Like a champ,” responded Pepper. Tony lifted up a cover of some sort that went on his car. Y/N watched in admiration as her dad fixed the old car.

“Why are you trying to hustle me out of here?”

“Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago,” Pepper said exasperatedly. Tony put the cover he was looking at down beside him and looked back at the car motor. He pointed out quietly what was what to Y/N who nodded and listened with intrigued eyes.

“That’s funny, I thought that with it being my plane and all, that it would just wait for me to get there,” Tony remarked Y/N giggled, which caused Tony to look at her and smile again. He kissed her cheek, making her squirm away because his goatee was scratchy.

“Don’t encourage him!” Pepper playfully snapped. This caused Y/N to giggle again, but she nodded nonetheless. “Tony, I need to speak to you about a couple of things before I get you out of the door.”

“I mean, doesn’t it kind of defeat the whole purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?” Tony continued, setting Y/N down and standing up from his stool.

The two adults continued to talk about business stuff while Y/N walked around her dad’s shop. She knew her way around it, but it still amazed her each time. Her father truly was a genius.

As she walked to a metal table, she sat down on a stool.

“Hello, Miss Stark,” J.A.R.V. I.S spoke.

“Hello, JARVIS,” the little girl replied softly.

She listened in on her dad’s conversation, something about buying something unnecessary.

“I’m allowed to have plans on my birthday,” Pepper said.

“Oh! Daddy it’s Pepper’s birthday!” Y/N called out cheekily. Tony rolled his eyes at his daughter but smiled.

“I caught that,” he said. “I knew it was. Already?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that strange? It’s the same day as last year,” Pepper said teasingly. Tony looked at her adoringly.

“Get yourself something nice from me,” he said softly. Pepper smirked.

“I already did.”

“And?”

“Oh, it was very nice. Very tasteful. Thank you, mister Stark,” Pepper said, smiling. Tony smiled bacl.

“You’re welcom, Miss Potts,” Tony replied. Y/N coughed.

“Daddy, don’t you have a plan to catch for halfway around the world?” Y/N teased, breaking the silence.

Tony turned to his daughter and stalked toward her playfully.

“Are you trying to get rid of my, princess?” He asked, getting closer. Y/N squealed and got off the stool, running away from him.

Tony let out a playful roar and caught up to her, picking her up from behind and blowing raspberries on her neck. Y/N squealed as he did so, squirming.

“Daddy, stop!”

“Never!”

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

As the two Starks drove down the highway towards the airport, metal music blasted. Tony never liked going anywhere without his daughter, considering that’s how his wife ended up dead. But, there was no possible way that he was taking his daughter to Afghanistan.

Speeding into the airport with Happy behind them, Tony came to a screeching halt. Y/N looked up at the plan and saw Rhodey standing at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Uncle Rhodey!” Y/N screamed from the passenger side of the car. Rhoday chuckled and waved back.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

Tony got out, laughing.

“You’re good. Oh, I thought I lost you back there,” he called out to Happy as he got out of the car. Happy opened the trunk to the black car and got Tony’s lugage out.

“You did, sir. I had to cut across Mullahound,” Happy said dryly. Tony nodded and walked around to where Y/N stood in front of the Audi. He crouched down and took his daughter’s hands.

“Alright, baby. I’ve got to go,” He said, looking into her e/c eyes. Y/N pouted.

“Do you have to?” she whined. Tony raised his hand and brushed her curly, brown hair out of the way from where the wind had blown it in her face.

“Yeah I do. How else am i going to buy you everything?” He aske dsmiling. The girl pouted but nodded. “ I love you, so much.” He said, kissing her forehead, then pulling her into a hug.

“I love you too, daddy,” she said into his shoulder.

After a few minutes, Tony pulled back.

“I’ve got to go now. Aunt Pepper will be there when you go to bed and Happy will stay at the house until she gets there. Be good for them,” Tony instructed. Y/N nodded. Tony placed one last kiss on her forhead and stood up. She watched as he walked to the stairs leading up to the plane.

“What is wrong with you?’ Rhodey asked. Tony looked up there and shrugged.

“What?”

“Three hours,” Rhodey deadpaned.

“I got caught doing a piece for Vanity Fair,” Tony said as he climbed up the stairs, Happy trailing behind him.

“For three hours For three hours you got me standing here,” Rhodey said. Tony walked past him and into the plane.

“Waiting on you now.”

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

Y/N sat in her bed, waiting on Pepper. She was watching TV when pepper walked in, tears running down her face.

“Auntie Pep? What’s wrong?” The little girl asked. Pepper walked over and sat down beside the young Stark.

“Sweetie. Um, your father. He, uh, he went miss..missing in Afghanistan. There was a bombing and he was kidnapped, they suspect,” Pepper choked out. Tears sprung in Y/N’s eyes.

“Daddy’s missing?” she asked in a small voice. Pepper nodded, wiping her tears off and sniffling. Tears began to make their way down Y/N’s face.

“Yes, sweetheart. He is. You’re going to stay with Uncle Rhodey until they find him. It shouldn’t be long.’

But it was long. It was three months. Three, long months without her father. She cried herself to sleep everynight for the first month. Then, for the next too, she barely slept.

All Rhodey could do was watch helplessly as his goddaughter lost sleep and missed her dad. He did everything he could to make her feel better. They even started staying at the Malibu house just so she could sleep in his bed. While she waited on her father, Y/N was no longer the happy little girl that she used to be.

As news reports told about the accident, they let it slip that the famous Tony Stark had a daughter. This caused for Rhodey to basically place her under a lockdown, barely leaving the house.

When they got news that Tony was found, Y/N burst out into tears. Rhodey cradled the girl in his arms as he thanked whoever was out there that Tony was alive.

Y/N went to the airport and waited with Pepper and Happy, since Rhodey was the one to go get him. When the gate let down on the back of the plane, Rhodey was helping Tony up from a wheelchair. His arm was in a sling and he was holding Rhodey’s hand as they walked down the ramp. Y/N began crying as she let go of Pepper’s hand.

“DADDY!” The little girl screamed. She waited until the two best friends were off the ramp to run to him. Tony’s face broke out into a smile at the sight of his beautiful little girl.

Tony, with the help of Rhodey, kneeled on the ground and Y/N launched herself at her dad. She was mindful of his hurt arm. She cried in his suit jacket as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Tony got chocked up as he wrapped his good arm around her. She smelt like home. Oh, how he missed her.

“Hey, princess. It’s alright. I’m right here,” he whispered into her hair. Pulling back, he admired her. While stuck in the cave, he didn’t know if he was going to see her ever again.

“What happened?” Y/N asked, sniffling. She then felt a hard thing under his shirt, right in the middle of his chest. She tilted her head to the side and placed a hand on the hard piece of metal. Tony smiled and shook his head.

“I got caught by some bad guys. But I’m Tony Stark, so I found a way out of there. And about this thing, some scrap pieces of metal got stuck in my chest and thus was the only way to keep me alive. Its a tinier version of the arc reactor at lab,” he explained. The little girl just hugged him again. Tony stood up, bringing her with him. He settled her on his hip and walked towards Pepper.

“Hmm. Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long lost boss?” Tony asked the woman. Pepper smiled.

“Tears of joy. I hate job hunting,” she replied. Tony’s lip quirked up at the corners and walked past her and to his car.

“Yeah, vacation’s over.”

Sitting in the car, Tony set Y/N beside him, allowing her to curl up into his left side. Tony wrapped his arm around her and kissed her hair.

“Where to, sir?” Happy asked from the driver’s seat.

“Take us to the hospital, please, Happy.”

“No.” Tony said.

“No? Tony you have to go-”

“No is a complete answer.’

“-to the hospital. A doctor has to-”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“- look at you.” Pepper finished.

“I’ve been in captivity for three months. There are three things I want to do; I want an American cheeseburger. I want to hold my daughter, and the other…”

“That’s enough of that.”

“...is not what you think. I want you to call for a press conference now.” Tony finished. Pepper looked at him.

“Call for a press conference?” she asked.

“Yeah. Hogan, drive.”

“What on earth for?”

“Cheeseburger first.”

After stopping at Burger King for three cheeseburgers, they made it to Stark Industries. Reporters and workers were lined up outside the door. Obie was waiting on them opening the door for Tony as they pulled up.

“There he is. Ah. Tony,” he said, pulling Tony into a hug when he stepped out of the car. Tony wiped his mouth and hugged him back, Y/N getting out behind him. “We were gonna meet you at the hospital.”

“No, I’m fine,” Tony replied, throwing his napkin in the car. Happy walked around the car and held the Burger King bag out for Tony, who reached in and pulled out his second cheeseburger.

Pepper walked over and motioned for her to follow her dad, who was talking to Obie about having to get a cheeseburger.

Once they arrived in the press conference room, applause immediately sounded as Tony walked into the room. He had just finished his burger, meaning he was still chewing.

Tony stopped for a moment, turning around and looking for his daughter. She was watching him from beside Pepper. With a jerk of his head, the little girl walked to her dad with a huge smile on her face. Tony grabbed her hand, smiling down at her.

The two walked in between reporters who were desperate for news. Arriving at the platform, Obie stepped behind the microphone and quieted the reporters down. Tony just sat down on the steps in front of the stand, allowing Y/N to sit beside him. He wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side.

“Hey, would it be alright if everyone just sat down?” He asked,pulling out a cheeseburger from his suit pocket. “Why don’t you just sit down? That way you can see me and I can… a little less formal and..”

Everyone sat down, including Obie who sat beside Tony. Tony looked over to Obie and muttered a ‘good to see you.’

“I never got to say goodbye to my father.” Tony started. Y/N made a shocked face and looked up at him. Tony just glanced down at her and smiled. “There were questions I would’ve asked him. I would’ve asked him how he felt about what this company did. If he was conflicted, if he ever had any doubts. Or maybe he was every inch the man we all remember from the newsreels.”

Flashes were going off as he spoke. Y/N wondered why she was talking about her grandfather, he never talked about him. Especially to the public.

“I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend and protect them. And I saw that I.. had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability.” Tony explained. A young reporter raised his hand on the front row.

“Mr. Stark.” He said. Tony looked at him and nodded.

“Hey, Ben”

“What happened over there?”

There was a beat of silence before Tony got up, Y/N scrambling up with him and taking his hand.

“I-I had my eyes opened. I cam to realize that I have more to offer thus world than just things that blow up,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice. He walked around to platform and stood behind the microphone. “And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International-”

This caused an uproar of noise. The reporters were talking over each other to get his attention. Y/N shrunk into her father’s side, not liking the loud noises.

“-until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be,” He finished. Obie grabbed him by the shoulders and talked over Tony through the microphone.

Tony picked his daughter up and placed her on his hip, stepping back in front of the microphone.

“I don’t want my daughter to grow up in a world with violence. I understand that violence is inevitable, but I will do the best i can to keep her away from it all. Manufacturing weapons is not doing that,” Tony explained, effectively quieting the reporters. He walked down the steps, ignoring the reporters clamoring. He kissed Y/N’s head, allowing her to tuck her head into the crook of his neck.

“What we can take away from this is that, Tony is back. And healthier than ever.”

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

Tony wanted to go to the lab at Stark Industries. So, Happy drove him there and Y/N waited in the car, watching as Obie drove up on a Segway. He looked unhappy and walked in, leaving Happy to deal with the Segway.

Y/N took out her Starktablet from her bag she takes with her everywhere, and pulled up a movie. She had recently been exposed to the Harry Potter series, obviously she read the books first. Taking out her earphones, she pulled up the 3rd movie, Prisoner of Azkaban.

Arriving home, Tony immediately went downstairs. Y/N sighed and went to her room, wishing her would watch a movie with her and cuddle.

A few hours later, J.A.R.V.I.S announced that her father requested her in the lab. She paused her movie, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and got up. Dumbledore had just walked into the room, screaming at Harry for ‘putting his name in the Goblet of Fire.”

When she got there, she saw that Dum-E and the other robots had cleared some room and placed a metal table-like thing in the room, along with some monitors that looked suspiciously like an EKG monitor.

“Alright, princess. I need you to help me with something,” he said, turning her attention to him. She gasped as she walked over to her father, looking at the reactor in her dads chest. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers against the cool metal. She grinned up at her dad.

“This is so cool,” she whispered excitedly. Tony grinned down at her and laughed. Dum-E brought over what looked like a better version of the reactor.

“You really are my daughter. Ok. I need your help. I need to swap this old one out for the new one,” he explained, holding up the new arc reactor. Y/N nodded and shook her hands out. “Ah, no. You have to be careful. There is an exposed wire under this device that is touching is making contact with the socket wall and causing a short,” he explained, taking out the old reactor. Y/N watched closley as he pulled it out, exposing a wire attached to it that went deep into his chest cavity.

“Ok. I’m assuming you want me to get the wire, pull it out, and then reconnect the new reactor?’

Tony grinned at her proudly and nodded.

“Exactly. But be careful, if you touch the sides with the wire or pull out the magnet, I could go into cardiac arrest,” he said nonchalantly. Y/N gawked at him.

“Ok.. Grey’s Anatomy don’t fail me now,” she whispered. Tony chuckled.

Y/N reached into the hole and searched around for the wire.

“Wh-what is this in here? Is that discharge?” she exclaimed.

“Yes it is. Just get the wire.”

Y/N searched for the wire until she found it. She carefully pulled it out, being sure not to touch the sides.

“Ok. Ok. Good now just don’t-”

She pulled out the magnet.

“-pull out the magnet. Ok. It’s ok.”

The EKG started flat-lining, making her panic, She really wanted to page Dr. Yang, and charge to 200. Maybe even page Dr. Shepard just to be safe. But, her dad seemed fine.

“Daddy you’re going into cardiac arrest though!”

“I know. Just put the new reactor in, attaching the wires to the base plate,” he said, handing her the new reactor. She reached in, and attached the wires to the base plate like her said. He exclaimed when she did, making the heart monitors come back and set them at a steady rhythm.

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and she dropped her head onto her dad’s chest. She then playfully swatted it.

“You can’t give me a heart attack at 8, daddy,” Y/n scolded. Tony laughed and ran his hand over her hair. She lifted her head and look at her dad. Tony sat up and kissed her forehead.

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Daddy.” she says, then glances at the old reactor. “What are you going to do with the old reactor?”

Tony glanced her her, then turned back to whatever he was doing with Dum-E.

“Throw it away. Incinerate it,” he said without any care. Y/N frowned and furrowed her eyebrows.

“You don’t want to keep it?”

“Nope,” came his response. Y/N grabbed it and looked at it.

“Well, I’m keeping it. Now, can you come watch some movies with me? You literally just got back from a foreign country where you were kept as a hostage,” she deadpanned. Tony chuckled, but tossed a shirt on and grabbed her hand.

“Yes, let’s go. What are we watching?”

Taglist:

@bxtchboy69

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter #tony stark #iron man #pepper potts #rhodey #james rhodes #happy hogan #obadiah stane

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years ago

Text

Truth or Dare [S.B.]

Character: Sirius Black

Word Count: 1547

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: An almost innocent game of truth or dare leads to Sirius finally confessing the feelings he has for a certain someone.

Tags: @dreamer821 @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @susceptible-but-siriusexual @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: i had an idea, i ran with it, and this happened. definitely not one of my best but i guess it’s something

+ + + + +

"Padfoot, truth or dare?" James asked with a cheeky grin and a mischievous glint in his eye. "Why are you even asking? Dare," Sirius replied, lazily taking a sip from his firewhisky bottle.

James' grin stretched wider, if it were possible, and Sirius sat up more on his bed, gulping. Usually, he wouldn’t be too worried about what James would come up with, knowing his friend wasn’t exactly the most creative with dares, however something told Sirius this time was different.

"I dare you to touch Y/n's boob."

The deafening silence after the dare was announced was broken by James’ laugher that escaped him at the look on Sirius’ face, Remus joining in soon after, sniggering to himself.

"Y/n's boob? Why?" Sirius spluttered, his heart racing. Of course he wanted to touch your boob! But not like this.

"Because you like her," James said bluntly, before pausing and then adding in thought, "And she has nice boobs, one of us should get to touch them."

Sirius glared at him, reaching over and smacking him across the head. "Ow! What was that for?!" "For looking at her! She's mine to look at, not yours!"

"Then go and touch her boob and confess your feelings and no guy will ever dare to look at her again, problem solved,” James frowned, rubbing his head.

"Fine. I will,” Sirius said determinedly, if a tad sulkily, “Next time I see her.”

By the next morning, Sirius had completely forgotten about the dare. Luckily, James hadn’t.

And as Sirius took his place at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, he cursed as he looked up to find three expectant faces staring back at him.

Sirius paused midway through his first bite of toast, “What do you three want?”

James shared an amused look with Peter and snickered under his breath, “Oh, nothing much. We’re just waiting for you to finish your dare from last night.”

Sirius felt his heart jolt - surely the dare couldn’t be that bad though, could it? “Which dare?” He asked as he grabbed a fork to pile some bacon onto his plate.

“Have you forgotten already? Better not drink as much next time, Padfoot,” James tutted, shaking his head in mock-condescension, before continuing, “The dare where you have to touch Y/n’s boob.”

And suddenly the memory of the dare came screaming back to Sirius, and his face paled. He dropped his fork to his place, causing a clatter that turned a few heads, but he paid them no mind, “Fuck.”

James held his hand up to Remus for a high five, who hit it without looking as he finished his breakfast.

“I’m just a genius. An actual bloody genius! I’m just so proud of myself for this one,” James boasted, grinning from ear to ear as he sat back and enjoyed how annoyed Sirius appeared to be getting.

“Oh yeah?” Sirius grumbled, “Why don’t you just go and shove your proudness right up your-“

“There she is!” Remus interrupted him, nodding over to the entrance of the hall, where you were walking towards your house table with a couple of friends.

“Go on then, Padfoot,” Peter goaded, letting out a squeaky laugh.

“Well I’m not about to do it right in front of everyone am I? I’m more of a gentleman than that,” Sirius ran a hand through his hair, staring at the food on his plate that no longer seemed appealing, and trying to avoid the temptation of looking over at you.

“I’m sorry, did you just call yourself a gentleman?” Remus scoffed in disbelief.

“I did ballroom dancing and played piano as a child!”

“Only because you had to.”

Sirius scowled, pushing his plate away.

“A dare is a dare, Sirius,” James said, glancing over in your direction. Sirius sighed, running a hand down his face and wondering what he had gotten himself into.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But not here.”

Sirius watched you from across the hall, talking with your friends as you waited outside the Transfiguration classroom for the lesson to start. His eyes drifted across your features - your bright eyes, the curve of your nose and down to your lips - and down to where his target was - your chest.

“I can’t do this! It’s degrading,” Sirius frowned, shaking his head and throwing his arms up in the arm in emphasis as he turned to his friends.

“I’m sure she’ll get over it if you ask her out, I’ve heard she quite fancies you,” Remus mentioned casually, flicking through his Transfiguration textbook.

Sirius slammed a hand down on the textbook, making Remus jump and nearly drop it, “Moony, what do you mean, she fancies me? And you’re just telling me now? For Merlin’s sake, you’re telling me that she bloody likes me?!”

Remus pulled the book away from him, closing it and tucking it under his arm, “Yeah, for a while now.”

“I hate you so much for not telling me. Fine, I’m going!” Sirius announced as he turned away to walk over towards you.

Just as Sirius was out of earshot, James leant over to Remus, “I never heard anything about her liking Padfoot, who told you that?”

“Oh, nobody. I made it up, I just want to see him make a fool of himself,” Remus grinned at his messy haired friend, who now sported an impressed look.

“Maybe you’re the genius, Moony,” James said in awe, receiving a ‘well, duh’ look from Remus.

Just down the hall, Sirius marched to your friend group, looking a lot more confident that he felt. The door to the classroom had just opened as he reached you, so he called out, “Hey Y/n!”

Your friends had just headed into the room as you turned at the sound of your name, but before you could reply, you realised you were very close to somebody - namely, the eldest Black brother.

Your eyes widened as you slowly looked down at the slight pressure that had just been applied to your chest.

“Sirius!" You squeaked. “What?" He replied innocently. You looked up at him, suddenly feeling a lot warmer than you were previously.

“Why in Merlin's name are you holding my boob?" You hissed, your eyes still wide and mouth dropping slightly.

Sirius' cheeks redden, and Merlin if his heart isn’t beating faster than he could ever remember it going, "I mean it's... it's a good boob... good good good.”

“Well um... thank you? I think. But... would you mind letting go?"

"Oh! Oh yeah of course, yeah my bad, sorry." Sirius removed his hand promptly, stepping back and creating a bit more space between you. And had he have turned to look at his friends, he would’ve noticed James practically falling onto the floor with his laughing, clutching onto the arms of Remus and Peter - who also looked amused - for support.

You straightened out your jumper and looked at the now seemingly nervous boy, “Now may I ask why you decided to do that?”

“Well you see... me and the lads were kinda playing truth or dare last night, and Prongs - I mean James - decided to dare me to touch your boob because he knows I’ve fancied you since, well, as long as I can remember.”

“And so you went through with it?” You asked, scoffing amusedly.

“Um... yes,” Sirius hung his head, half in shame and half in hopes of hiding his still-red cheeks.

“You know you could’ve just, I don’t know... spoken to me? Like a normal person?”

Sirius looked up at you and grinned, “Well yeah... yeah I suppose I could have but this way, I got to touch your boob - which was a revelation, a mind blowing experience, by the way - and you got to find out how it feels to have me-“

“To have you what? Grope me without so much as a word?” You cut in, shaking your head but nevertheless letting out a small laugh.

“I mean I wouldn’t say it was groping... more of a light pat, perhaps a squeeze-“

“Besides the point, Sirius. Bloody hell, didn’t even ask me on a date first,” You now grinned, leaning back against the doorframe behind you.

His face lit up, “I mean I’d definitely love to go on a date with you, yes love!”

You frowned, your mouth slightly dropping again, “Wait I wasn’t asking-“

“Meet me outside the Gryffindor common room on Saturday at 3,” Sirius interrupted you, beginning to step away backwards in the direction of his friends, “Give me a chance to apologise for this whole thing.”

“Again, I wasn’t asking you on a date!” You called after him, though you weren’t opposed to the idea of a date with the guy you’d liked for just over a year now.

“And yet we’re going on one. Funny how things turn out, huh?” Sirius replied, “And maybe at the end of the date - or perhaps during - I’ll be able to touch your boob again.”

You shook your head, smiling at his cheekiness as he walked off to thank James for the dare, leaving you confused at the encounter, but with a warm feeling in your stomach at the idea of a date with the handsome boy.

#sirius #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius imagine #sirius imagines #sirius black imagine #sirius black imagines #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #marauders imagines #harry potter

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hello-everyfandom · 5 years ago

Text

“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English."

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader + Best Friend!Fred

Words: 2.1k

Summary: George is irresistible and you’re quite good at pranks.

Prompt: Requested

103: ““Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English."

(I tried to come up with a prank, turns out I’m not very mischievous!)

You were usually quite adamant. Stubborn beyond belief. Once you had your mindset, nothing could stand in your way nor change your mind. But, sadly, you did have a weakness. The muggles would call it “kryptonite,” but you would just name it “boyfriend.”

“Please? Please Y/N?” his brown eyes softened and his lips turned downwards into a pout. He held his hands out in front of him, clasped so tightly. “I swear on my life, I will love you till the day I die.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “No. No Georgie, absolutely not.”

“Why!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

“You know why!”

“I promise you, it’d be really really really funny.” you bit your lip in temptation, George’s eyes didn’t cease to make your knees go weak. “And how,” he kissed you on the cheek, “could I,” another kiss, “even pretend to think,” kiss, “about doing this without my,” he presented you with a long and wet kiss making you squeal and attempt to push him away, “lovely, beautiful and smart girlfriend?”

You laughed. You admit, George Weasley was damn persuasive and charming, but you’d never tell him that fearing his head would grow larger than a pumpkin. “Alright alright, you cheeky little bastard. I’ll help you.” George jumped up in with excitement and began to kissing your face with fast little pecks. “You’re lucky I love you. What’s the plan?”

George’s face turned from pure exhilaration to a sheepish grin, “Well...”

“George...” you said warningly, “what is it?”

“We don’t actually,” he twiddled his thumbs, “have a secure plan yet for the prank.”

“George! Then why would you- I- you are so frustrating sometimes.”

“Yes, I’m fully aware, dear. But, that is why we need your help.”

“Come back to me when you have a fully thought out plan, then we’ll talk.” You pat his cheek and then sat down on the courtyard bench only to be pulled up to your feet again.

“You’re one of the brightest witches in our year-”

“Try ‘universe’” you snorted back,

“Yes! Precisely. See, you already know how bloody wicked you are. With your head combined with ours, there’s no way this prank can go wrong.”

“That’s what someone would say before a prank goes terribly wrong,” you pointed out. George hushed you with his finger and slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s not focus on the negatives,” he said rather quickly.

“Well,” you huffed and gathered your bag that was draped over the bench, tucking it over your arm and pushing against George for warmth, you succumbed to George’s begging, “Fine. I guess the prank will maybe be funny.”

“It will be, my love. Just you wait.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this and I, wait.” you scanned the grass, “where’s Fred?”

“He’s in detention cleaning the broom closet,”

“For what?”

“Erm- a prank gone wrong?” George sent you another sheepish look before steering you away to Gryffindor tower.

“Fred, push over, will you?” you hissed quietly. Your focus was greatly inhibited by the twins beside you giddy with excitement.

“I can’t believe we’ve pulled this off,” Your boyfriend rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Brilliant. We’re absolutely brilliant,” Fred said. He must’ve noticed your annoyed face because he also slapped his hand on your shoulder too, “But, brilliance only comes in three. Cheers, Y/N.”

“Mhm,” you hummed sarcastically before finishing the final touches on the prank. “Fine! I’ll admit it, this prank is a work of art.”

“Yes!” George planted a kiss on your cheek, “Finally! Nothing is more attractive than a confident woman,”

“Don’t make me regret this, Weasley.” You placed your back against his chest, he automatically wrapped his arms around you, smelling your hair.

“I think we’ve finally outdone ourselves, no one will forget our names. George, the charming. Fred, the clever, witty, exuberant, respected, provocating, absolutely dashin-”

“Get on with it, Freddie,” you laughed,

“and of course, the maid of honor, the mastermind, Y/N Y/L/N the... nice?”

“The only thing you could come up with is ‘nice’? Do you even know what ‘exuberant’ means?”

“Let’s not get caught up on the specifics,” Fred waved his hand and stared in amazement. You giggled a bit, reminded of before when George had said a very similar thing to his twin. They really were a pair of wonder.

“Whatever. Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.” you turned and pointed to George and then yourself.

“Oi, and what about me?” Fred asked, insulted.

You tapped your lip in feinging to be deep in thought, “you act dumb, then you won’t really have to change that much.”

“Ouch!” Fred gasped and covered his mouth, “George, are you going to say anything to your woman?”

George shook his head and stared at you with a look one would simply call love, “My lady said what she said.”

“You’re more whipped than I thought,” Fred rolled his eyes with a hint of a smile.

The three of you bounced away, pushing each other in the corridors and giggling about how magnificent this prank would be. By the time dinner rolled around, you were shaking anxiously. Sure, you’ve pulled pranks before but those were simple. Setting a dung bomb off or setting free a bunch of skrewts was amateur compared to this. This? This was a high scale, perhaps maybe even expulsion, worthy prank. But, watching George wink at you from across the table made your heart flutter. Fred sat next to you, whispering to Lee Jordan,

“You’re in for a treat,” Fred’s face turned smug,

“Oh bloody bollocks, Fred, if I’m going to eat something tonight that will turn my nose into a pig snout, I will goose you into the next dimension,” Lee warned.

“Relax, Jordan.” Fred’s eyes pointed towards the ceiling,

“Let me rephrase then if anything goes into my hair, my wand is going straight up your arse.”

“On my honour, Lee, nothing will happen to you.” You assured him, pinching his arm softly.

“But after you see it, you’ll go mad and kiss our feet,” George smiled wildly, his body fidgeting with excitement. Students began to walk in steadily, each reaching their table and taking a seat and chatting like birds. Almost everyone was at dinner before the twins, you and Lee all excitedly huddled together to watch Professor Dumbledore rise to the podium.

“Wait for it,” you whispered under your breath. Dumbledore’s hand began to rise slowly, initiating the dinner to commence. Delicious meals of roast beef, potatoes, gravy, and peas flooded the table. The smell nearly distracted you from the prank, however, George squeezed your hand making you more anxious and exhilarated. The twins began to count down under their breath as Dumbledore’s hand began to fall.

“Three.” George said,

“Two.” You chimed,

“One.” Fred’s lips smirked.

For a second, nothing happened. It almost made your heart sink, thinking your prank had failed. However, your thoughts were proven wrong when the floating candles above the Great Hall exploded. Streaks of red paint sprayed the other houses and narrowly missed the teacher’s table. Students screamed in surprise, feeling the red ink stain their clothes and hair. Immediately, the Gryffindor table erupted into laughter. Their laughter only increased louder and heavier when the ceiling above the dinner tables popped and rained gold glitter that fluttered around and landed on top of people’s heads. You, especially, had charmed the remaining gold to form the letter’s “Gryffindor Rules,” above the teacher’s table. Some students began to laugh out of sheer surprise and some of your housemates began to clap. However, it was the Slytherin table that started to curse loudly. They shouted angrily and quickly tried to wipe the paint off of them. However, George had patted you on the back earlier for this idea, you had enchanted the paint to become more pigmented and darker if anyone tried to rub it off.

“Professor Dumbledore, EXPEL them at once!” You heard someone yell from the Slytherin tables, a few people joined in and agreed.

“Alright,” Lee wheezed, trying to catch his breath, “that was bloody brilliant. Congratulations, I’ve never felt more proud of you lot.”

The three of your sneakily high fived before Dumbledore tried to calm down the students. If you looked closely enough, you could see a gleam of amusement in Dumbledore’s eyes before he spoke,

“Children, please. Calm down.” He waved his wand, attempting to remove the paint from the student’s bodies. Nothing. Nothing seemed to work. Even McGonagall tried and couldn’t seem to lift the paint nor the glitter. Gryffindor students continued their laughter and praised the Weasley twins.

“Please return to your dormitories and wash up. We will continue the dinner in one hour. However, whoever has pulled this prank will receive extreme punishment.” McGonagall warned. Immediately students rose up and hurried to their common rooms. A few Ravenclaws and a handful of Hufflepuffs commended the three of you whilst the Slytherin house shot sharp daggers your way. Pride filled your chest as you stood.

“That was-”

“Bloody amazing.” The twins said together.

George lifted you up in the air, twirling you before putting you down and Fred doing the same. You giggled and shoved them away.

“We did it! Did you see the look on Slytherin’s slimy faces? They’ll never forget this,” George kissed you multiple times before throwing himself at Fred.

“Genius.” Fred pressed a chef kiss to his lips, “Oh, we are absolute geniuses. We pulled it off!”

You froze, hearing someone clear their throat from behind you. “And what exactly is ‘it’?” McGonagall asked, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. Her face was terrifying to look at, it was as if you were disappointing your mother or even worse, grandmother. She tapped her foot, looking at the three of you, an irritated look was clear on her pursed lips.

“Uh, uh.” you stuttered, “Ne parle pas anglais?” you butchered French terribly, but it was the only thing your mind could possibly think of in such circumstances. Nudging George with a harsh bump into his ribs, he jumped and said,

“I don’t know! I don’t know anything. I don’t know anything about any paint. I can’t see it! I’m uh, blind. ” George sputtered making you facepalm.

“And I’m dumb.” Fred nodded, agreeing with George completely.

“George!” you groaned, “I said deaf, not blind.”

“There’s a difference?” George asked, confused. Fred sighed and put his face in his hands. You smiled guiltily at your Professor.

“You three. Detention. Tomorrow morning at seven, sharp.”

“For what, Professor?” you asked innocently,

“It is rather insulting you have to ask, Ms. Y/N. But, to be specific, the paint you have so generously covered the student body with.”

“But, Professor? What paint?” you asked curiously, waving your hand around to draw her attention to the students near you. George and Fred’s eyes turned too, watching as the red stains and gold glitter slowly begin to lift itself off of the students and disappear into thin air. McGonagall’s lips parted before darting her eyes to look at even more students who looked at their clothing and hands confusedly, seconds before, sticky crimson covered everywhere they could touch, and next? Nothing. George’s eyes bulged and Fred’s lips turned from a nervous frown into a grin.

“I see you’ve gotten better with your charms and spells,” McGonagall faced you finally,

“I’ve learned from the best.” you sent her a smile, “Surely, we cannot be given detention without proof, right Professor?”

“Yes, Professor. We’ve done nothing wrong.” George slung his arm around your shoulder.

“We’re entirely innocent!” Fred added.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” All three of you declared.

McGonagall looked at her students again, hummed in disapproval, turned on her heel and clicked back to the Great Hall.

Before you can fully register what’s happening, George presses his lips to yours in a delighted and thrilling kiss. His hands are on your butt, pulling you closer and passionately kissing you. He pulls away breathless, “I’m mad for you, woman. How the hell did you do that?”

You shrugged, “You two truly must learn one very, a key important part of a prank. Always have a getaway plan.”

Fred’s face was shocked as he slowly bowed to you, “My Queen.”

“Stand, Fred the Exuberant. Join us, George the Charming and Y/N the Lovely. We must attend our feast.” You lifted your hand and posed regally before you all burst into fits. You wrapped your arms around George and Fred and strutted into the hall. “By the way, Georgie, do you really not know the difference between deaf and blind?”

“Does it matter? You’re obviously the smart one of the group.” Your boyfriend leaned and smooched you once more.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagines #george weasley oneshot #fred weasley #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine

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p-artsypants · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll Handle This (10)

In Which Marinette Says the Thing

I was the most excited about this chapter and had most of it written already. :)

Also, I bumped up the rating a bit because there’s extremely mild nudity in this chapter.

(Ao3 | FF.net)

—

She looked fierce. Nails done, a cute, white skirt (that she hadn’t spilled her breakfast on!) and a red and white polka dot blouse. She was cute, she was hot, and she was ready to nab her man!

Said man walked into class wearing...

Oh boy.

A leather jacket, with no shirt underneath, a kilt, and knee high combat boots. There was not a single person that didn’t stare at him.

“Sup nerds?”

Nino entered with him, slightly chuckling, like he had heard a very funny inside joke.

Marinette gawked at him. “Adrien...”

“Aww! Pooh Bear! Look at how cute you are!”

Marinette’s initial horror in his appearance turned into excitement. He called her cute!

“Adrien, do we have to have this dress code talk again?” Miss Bustier sighed.

It turned out he did have a shirt on under the jacket. A black button-up. He untucked the flaps, and buttoned them, unevenly, to cover his sweet sweet bod. “Better?”

Miss Bustier shook her head, but urged him to sit down.

“Soooo,” Alya asked, with a wiggling eyebrow. “Are you wearing that kilt...properly?”

He grabbed the hem, squeezing his knees together to shuffle shyly. “You wanna see?”

Marinette burst into color. “Adrien!”

He laughed, “oh, I’m just kidding. I’m wearing boxers under this.”

“Alright everyone, get in your seats, it’s time to start!”

—

Marinette tried to do her very best to stay calm. But the very idea that a confession to Adrien would be happening today kept her distracted.

She stared at him, watching as he scrawled notes...in Chinese? He really was an overachiever!

The day passed in a crawl, Marinette fretting every minute.

Then the lunch bell rang, and students began to pack up for break.

“Adrien?” She blurted, her hands shaking.

He turned and looked at her, grinning, and lowering his sunglasses to flash her half-lidded eyes. “You rang?”

“Um...can we talk together? Er, go somewhere together to talk? I have something I want to tell you.”

His grin turned into a full tooth smile. “Of course! Where to?”

“Um...mom’s got stuff for sandwiches, if you want to come over.”

“Sounds wonderful!” He packed up his bag, and then held out his hand for her.

He wanted to hold her hand! Ah!

Nervously smiling, she put her hand in his, and let him lead her from the room.

At the risk of having a horribly awkward lunch, she took the lead, and led him upstairs to the slowly emptying third floor.

“What’s up here?”

“I...can’t wait anymore. If this makes things weird, you could probably catch up with Nino or the guys...”

He very gently touched her cheek. “I told you I wanted to have lunch with you, and I will. So say whatever you have to say.” He took his sunglasses off and put them on his head.

Marinette took a huge breath. “Now, I just need to know...who is the real you? Are you...is this who you are, and you were suppressing the rebellious, chaotic side? Or are you putting on a show?”

He blinked at her, eyes wide. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean...I support whoever you are. I want you to feel free to be you, and celebrate what makes you special, but...” she tucked some hair behind her ear, a nervous motion. “I just miss the boy I fell in love with.”

“Marinette...”

“I love you no matter what, though! I promise! I just...your kindness, your shy sweetness and honesty really captivated me. That day when you gave me your umbrella, and you went out of your way to apologize for the misunderstanding. You didn’t have to. I was the one that jumped to conclusions, but you wanted to make friends and get on the right foot with me. Your laughter, your smile...I was a goner.” She hugged the strap of her purse. “So this new version of you has been jarring, but...if I’ve been reading your signs right...?”

He pulled her into a hug. “Oh Marinette. Sweet, kind, thoughtful Marinette. You’ve figured me out. This is all an act. Except my attitude towards you. I feel the same.”

“You...love me?”

“Yes. More than I can express.”

She raised her head, tilting her chin and slowly closing her eyes.

The gag kiss during truth or dare was one thing, but Adrien would kill Plagg if he kissed Marinette in earnest like this.

Instead, he pressed a finger to her lips and smiled at her confused look. “Not yet. The timing isn’t right. If I could give you the world, I would. In fact, anything else, I’ll give it to you. You have my heart, and that will be yours as long as you want it. But I don’t think you want a relationship right now.”

“I’m confused...” Marinette said, her lips trembling.

“I want to protect you from my father and Lila. If I make you my girlfriend, they will try to hurt you to get to me. I’d hate to ask you to wait for me, since you’ve finally gotten the courage up to confess...but would you wait?”

Marinette reached up to hold his face, letting her thumb pass reverently over his cheek. How had she gotten so lucky to fall for a man so thoughtful? So loving?

“Adrien, I’d wait a hundred years to be with you. It’ll be our secret for now.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted more from the conversation-“

“Just knowing my feelings are returned are enough. Thank you.”

He took her hand again. “You still want to feed me sandwiches? Do I still deserve it?”

“Of course you do...My Prince.”

Plagg almost retched, but he schooled his face into an adoring grin before he faced her again. “That’s adorable!”

“You like it?”

“I love it!” It was just cheesy enough for Adrien.

“Then that’ll be your nickname...in secret. No one else will know.”

“I think you’ll come to find that our little secret will be so much more fun between us.”

—

After lunch, Plagg and Marinette returned to school. They stopped holding hands as they approached the building, but they stood close and bumped each other coyly.

The behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Alya or Lila. But Alya was the only one to confront them.

“You two seem close,” she asked, twinkle in her eye.

“Oh, we just had a very funny lunch together.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. Some great inside jokes. You had to be there.” Plagg sent a wink at Marinette and she seemed to swoon on the spot.

Plagg let her go back to her seat, ignoring the whispering from the girls behind him.

They thought he couldn’t hear them. He could.

Nino bumped his elbow. “Everything cool dude?”

“Absolutely. I’ll tell you later.”

—

Later came after school, of course. The second Plagg and Nino were away from school property, Plagg blurted out, “I’m a genius. I got Marinette to confess her undying love for Adrien. Boo-yah!”

“What?!” Nino shrieked. “Dude! She’s been trying to get that out for months! How on earth—no, wait. I know the answer.”

“Confidence.”

“And obvious flirting.” Nino scoffed. “Adrien always threw out the line, ‘you’re such a good friend’ in front of her. It was like wearing a big sign that said, ‘I will reject you!’”

“I’m right here, you know,” Adrien said, poking his head out of Plagg’s jacket. “And to my defense, I was trying to be faithful to—“

Plagg covered his mouth before he could accidentally reveal Marinette as Ladybug. “No excuses, lover boy!”

Thankfully, Adrien seemed to realize the mistake he almost made and nodded. “Fine, fine. I appreciate that you didn’t kiss her...again. So now what? Have we fulfilled that part of the contract yet?”

“Not quite.” He held up the ring. A paw print with three pads faintly shone on the surface. “Once a condition is met, you’ll hear the ring give its telltale beep and a pad will disappear. Once the paw print completely vanishes...well, you’ll be back in your own body anyway.”

“So...what do I need to do? She already confessed to me.”

This was a conversation better had without Nino involved. Of course he was a bro, and would be helpful for things. But Ladybug’s identity should still remain a secret.

“Nino...” Plagg began, with a drawl. “How much do you know about the birds and the bees?”

Nino sputtered. “HA! BYE!” And he made an about face and hurried towards home.

“Wait Nino!” Called Adrien.

“We’ll meet up with you later!” Plagg sang after.

Adrien looked to his body. “Please tell me you don’t have to...get up to some nasty stuff with my lady. Sure, it’s my body, but you’re like a bazillion years old and I was rather hoping to wait until marriage—“

“Calm down, Romeo. No, there’s not any hanky panky involved. I just needed to get Nino to leave without saying, ‘hey leave’. If he’s going to be suspicious, I need him on a whole other wavelength.”

“Okay, so if there’s no horizontal tango happening, then what are we doing?”

Plagg slipped the ring off his finger. “You need to spend time with her. Tell her or don’t. Just spend time with her outside of school and akumas and get to know her better. For an alibi, tell her that you haven’t been feeling well and you need to be in proximity of the Miracle Box. Then have her send her earrings to me so things stay even.”

“Will she go for that?”

“Probably. You know her better than I do.”

“What about the ring? Don’t you need to wear it because we’re switched?”

“Nah. It should be alright for a little while. It should stay with my body though.”

“Okay...I guess...I’ll go see Marinette.”

“Have fun!” Plagg wiggled his fingers in a farewell and started walking to where Nino had disappeared.

Nervous as all get out, Adrien fled to the bakery, trying to figure out what he was going to tell Marinette.

When was it appropriate to come clean? How long should he wait? Should he blab at all?

Soon, he was hovering above her trap door, and peering inside. Marinette sat at her desk, music playing as she worked on homework. Her head bobbed to some tunes.

“Okay, she thinks you’re Plagg. So she’ll welcome you in and listen to what you tell her. And if she finds out you’re Adrien, then she loves Adrien and everything will be fine. Right? Right!” He psyched himself up.

Using his poorly practiced phasing powers, he entered her room and came to float by her desk. “Hiya pigtails!” He chirped, in the typical Plagg style.

She jerked, before turning to him. Her eyes landed on the ring and widened with surprise. “Why do you have that?! Is Chat okay?! What’s wrong?!” She stood, and nearly knocked over her chair.

Even Tikki looked surprised.

“Everything is fine!” He rushed to rectify. Then he remembered Plagg’s crafted lie. “Mostly. I haven’t been feeling very good, so I think I need to be closer to the Miracle Box for a little bit. I brought the ring for you, if you would send Tikki to Chat for a little while. That way he’s covered in case there’s an Akuma attack.”

Luckily, she bought his dirty fib and started to remove her earrings. “Oh, well if you aren’t feeling well, that means Chat won’t be in top form. We can’t have that! Of course we can trade!” She took the earrings off and handed them to Tikki, before putting on the ring.

Adrien felt a tingle down his spine as the black metal turned rose gold on her dainty finger.

“Is he at home?” Asked Tikki.

“No, come with me, I’ll tell you.” And he escorted her up to the balcony.

“Did Plagg put you up to this?” She asked, once outside. “This seems like one of his hair brained schemes.”

“I mean...he came up with the excuse...but I thought Marinette’s confession today would fulfill one of the conditions of the contract, but it didn’t. Plagg said I should just spend time with her.”

Thankfully, Tikki was the nice one. She patted his paws. “I’m sure you miss her too. I won’t say anything. But I will be having a word with Plagg about this whole thing. He should know that body swaps don’t always work!”

“Don’t tell me that! I’m struggling as it is!”

“Sorry!” She giggled. “Why don’t you go on in. Be prepared though. She’s been all sighs since ‘Adrien’ returned her feelings today.”

If he could blush, he would have. “Oh boy...”

“Where am I going?”

“Oh, Plagg is staying with Nino now. He left home. And uhhh...Nino knows. About me, not Marinette.”

She scoffed. “That rascal.”

“Thanks for understanding, Tikki.”

“I’m understanding with you, because you’re the victim of a manipulative, chaotic creature of destruction and havoc.”

“He can be a bit of a turd.”

“What am I doing? You could be spending time with the love of your life! Now, go on!” Tikki pushed him towards the door before flitting off to Nino’s.

Suddenly faced with seeing Marinette again, and continuing to lie to her face, he sheepishly returned to her room.

She had ducked out for the moment, and he found himself alone.

Alone, but surrounded by dozens of pictures of himself.

Knowing about her crush put these photos in a different context, for sure.

“Just a fan” she said. She was a big fat liar too!

“Adorable, isn’t he?” Her voice grabbed him while he was off guard.

“Uhhh...I guess? For a human?”

She giggled, and set down the plate of cheese danishes onto her desk. “That’s Adrien. He’s kind of my boyfriend. It’s not official yet, but he loves me.” She smiled widely. “He told me just today.”

“‘Kind of’ your boyfriend? You’re okay with that?”

“He can’t date right now because of his father. But he asked me to wait for him. I’d wait a thousand years for him.”

His heart hammered in his chest. “What about three years? What if he can’t date until he’s 18?”

“That’s fine.” She said nonchalantly. “We can still hang out. We can focus on school and drama doesn’t have to come between us...”

“And if someone else available comes along?”

Marinette couldn’t know the real reason he was asking that question. She just fondly patted his head. “Sorry Plagg. I know you care a lot about Chat, but Adrien...Adrien means the world to me. I love Chat too, but in a different way. And he’s not available, not to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Chat will always just be my partner. Can only be my partner. We couldn’t date if I wanted too. It would be too difficult.” She sat back at her desk and sighed. “It would hurt too much.”

Adrien was struck speechless. How was he even supposed to respond to that? Was that an admission that she actually did have some feelings for Chat Noir?

It didn’t matter. Not now. “I didn’t mean to put you on the offensive. I was just...curious, is all. I’m happy you’ve found someone who loves you.”

She smiled at him then, scooping him out of the air and scratching his cheek with her finger. “Thanks Plagg. I hope I didn’t come off as snooty. I know you care about Chat. But he can fight his own battles.”

Her words made him feel like garbage. She had no idea, of course. Because up until the body swap, Adrien’s battles were not being fought. They were purposefully not being fought, because he was too chicken shit to upset anyone.

“Yeah...he’s brave alright...” he muttered.

Marinette settled down at her desk and continued on her homework.

What was a boy to do? He sat on the desk, and helped himself to the cheese danishes.

They were almost worth the trip over here by themselves.

“Enjoying yourself?” Marinette asked, eyebrow quirked.

At that, Adrien realized with thinly veiled horror that he had been moaning.

Eek.

“These are the most delicious things I’ve ever had!” Or maybe it was because Plagg had only fed him Camembert until now. Sure, Plagg’s taste buds were attuned to the foul stuff, but after a while, the same foods over and over get old.

Marinette just smiled at him fondly and continued with her work.

Would it be odd to look at her? Would she notice? He certainly found it hard to look away. He couldn’t stare at her during school. Not as Plagg, and not as Adrien from now on.

She tapped her pencil against her perfectly kissable lips, scrunching her nose and narrowing her eyes as she studied the page. It was adorable, but more so, it was the same face she made as Ladybug, when she was trying to solve her Lucky Charm.

Was it hindsight? Or if he saw Marinette making that face, would he have realized it?

Would he have cared enough to look at her?

Of course he would! He argued with himself. Marinette was always special, and her being Ladybug only elevated her in his mind. It was a match that made sense. Of course she was Ladybug. No one else could be so…wonderful.

But faced with her, and not knowing what to say or how to begin to explain the truth, he had to ask himself the tell tale question:

Did he like Marinette now because she was Ladybug? Or did he always like her, and was only in denial?

He begged it was the second. It had to be.

Her qualities were the same. There was nothing about Marinette that made him recoil or actively deny her identity.

Scratch that, Marinette was ridiculously clumsy.

But besides that, they were the same.

“Thinking about something tough over there?” Marinette asked.

“Huh? Oh. Uh...yeah. You know how it is.” Like that made any sense.

“Right. Like I could understand the problems of a Kwami.” She teased. “If you need to talk, I’m all ears.”

Soon. Soon he’d explain everything. But right now, he was just too nervous and scared of her wrath. “Thanks Marinette. I appreciate it. But I don’t want to distract you from your homework.”

She shrugged a little, not wanting to pry, before going back to work.

Adrien and Marinette shared the cheese danishes, and occasionally talked as she worked. When she got severely stuck, he would throw her a few hints.

Then she stretched, finished. “Oh thank goodness! I’m so tired, and I could use a lazy evening.”

“Marinette! Dinner time!”

“Well, after dinner, I’d like a lazy evening.” She scratched Adrien’s head. “Let’s just hope there’s no Akuma attack.”

“Fingers crossed!”

“You’ll be fine up here alone?”

“Of course. Have fun with your parents.”

“Oh,” she wilted. “Should I tell them about Adrien?”

“Why not?”

“I’m just scared that my nosy parents will ask a hundred questions. And we’re not even official.”

“Maybe by mentioning it now, when it becomes official, it won’t be much of a shock.”

“And maybe we can avoid another disaster like when my dad got akumatized. You’re right.” She couldn’t help but sigh. “Well, I’ll tell you how it goes!” And she went downstairs.

Adrien sat on her desk, scanning the walls and taking in all of his pictures. She really loved him, didn’t she?

And how long had that gone on, and he never noticed?

Was it okay to snoop? Of course morally and ethically, no, it wasn’t. But he was technically her sort of boyfriend. It couldn’t hurt.

Right?

So he snooped. Just a precursory glance through her belongings. It was all very innocent.

Until he found the pink half-circle book. Her diary.

Maybe it was the influence of Plagg’s magic in him. Or this whole experience was turning him into a rascal.

But he opened the book and started to read.

The entries were pretty innocent too. Day to day things, balancing life as a superhero and a student. She mentioned him a few times. Using phrases like, ‘golden hair’, ‘handsome face’, ‘emerald eyes’, and ‘abundant kindness’. She wrote about the times they interacted. From him catching her when she tripped, to the glances they shared. Just the smallest interactions between them, she cherished.

It almost made his heart hurt with how moved he was.

And then there was an entry whose content made him feel a different sort of pain. She recounted a day he had not experienced. Her encounter with his akuma, Chat Blanc.

He read the pages, soaking up every heart breaking moment. All the cruel things he had said to her that he would have never known. Why hadn’t she said anything? Was it too painful? Or did…

Did she think he didn’t need to know?

The diary slammed shut as he was finishing the entry, and a very angry and embarrassed Marinette stood over him, glaring. “Little snoop.”

“Yeah yeah, cats and curiosity and all that. So sue me.”

She took the book away and put it in a box with a lid. “Remind me never to leave you alone in my room ever again.”

“Aw, you’re no fun.”

She walked away, heading to her dresser. “Are you like this with Chat, too?”

“Oh, I’m much worse. You have no idea.”

She laughed at him, and took her pajamas out of her drawers.

Then without warning, she took off her pants.

And Adrien’s mouth went dry. He watched as she slipped on her pajama pants, and then took off her shirt, and even her bra, before putting on a loose t-shirt.

He was not going to get that image out of his head for a long, long time.

She turned to him and started talking like nothing had happened. “So what do you want to do? I’m all done with homework, and so as long as there’s no Akuma attack, I can do whatever I want. What do you and Chat usually do?”

Adrien didn’t know how to tell her he didn’t really have free time. Plagg just looked up cheese blogs on his phone, or watched a movie while Adrien worked on homework.

“You pick. I’ll just watch if you want to play video games or design.”

“I’m actually kind of tired. I might just watch videos in bed.”

“Sounds fun! Can I join?”

“Sure! Whatever you want, Plagg.” Marinette climbed her ladder up to her loft and settled against her pillows. She pulled a fuzzy blanket around her legs and sighed in content. “Just what the doctor ordered!”

Adrien hesitated a moment, trying to decide where to sit. Her shoulder? Her stomach?

But Marinette took the choice away and patted her chest, just above her heart.

Eagerly, he settled, curling his tail around his body, and absorbing her body heat. She scratched between his ears and made him purr almost instantly.

This was heaven. When he got his body back, he’d lay his head here. Hopefully, she’d scratch his scalp just the same.

The videos played on her phone, just memes. Every time she chuckled, her chest would rumble with the noise, and fill him with joy.

He could hear her heart beating. The heart she had opened for him just today. A heart that he lived in.

And then her phone started flashing with a red light. And akuma alert!

“Uh oh!” Marinette clicked on the alert, checking out the details. “It’s a sentimonster! Come on Plagg, we can’t leave Misterbug out to dry!”

As she scaled the ladder to her balcony, he panicked. How was this going to work? Was she going to notice once they transformed? Would he be able to hear her thoughts like he could when Plagg transformed?

Would he look through her eyes?

She raised the hand with the ring on it. “Alright! Plagg, Claws out!”

Nothing happened.

“Um...Plagg, Claws out?”

“Oh.” Adrien gasped, “oh no.”

“Oh no what? Are you broken? Do I need to fix you?”

“No! I mean—sort of, but you already did your part! I’m just...”

“Plagg, what’s going on?”

He sighed, screwing up his lips and unintentionally showing his fangs. “Um...I’m not...I’m not actually Plagg.”

She stared at him, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing. “Then...who are you?”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“No guarantees!”

“Well, okay.” He gulped. “I’m...Adrien?”

She blinked. “Adrien? Like...no. No no no not like Adrien Agreste, my new supposed boyfriend?!”

“That’s me! Hi P-Pooh Bear?”

“What?!” She shrieked. “How?! When?! What—“ she snatched him out of the air with firm hands. “HAVE YOU BEEN ADRIEN THIS WHOLE TIME?”

“I mean, I’ve been Adrien my whole life,” he awkwardly chuckled.

“No, no don’t joke with me right now.” She sniffed. “How long have you been like this?”

“Um...about two weeks now. Since that day he came to school in a crop top.”

Marinette shut her eyes tight, a few tears slipping past her cheeks. “That long...”

“Marinette?”

“So it was all a lie? Plagg’s just—messing with us? With me? You don’t really—“ she squeezed her eyes shut and started crying in earnest.

“No! No Marinette! Of course I love you! I’ve always loved you, you know that! The second I learned you were Ladybug, everything made sense! I was so happy and I told Plagg he had to win you over. Please Marinette, this was never supposed to be malicious.” He nuzzled against her fingers, offering up a purr. “I promise.”

With her free hand, she wiped her face. “Alright, well suppose I believe you. What happened? Why are you like this?”

“I made a deal with the devil. Plagg, specifically. He said he was tired of me complaining all the time. So he said he could solve all my problems if I just agreed to it. Then I woke up in his body.”

“What problems?”

“Well...my unrequited love for you, for one.”

She blushed.

“My relationship with my father for two, and the third is Lila’s harassment.”

“Oh, I get it now.” Marinette sighed. “That’s why he was doing all those things...”

“You mean dressing like a moron and messing with Lila?”

“Yes. And flirting with me.”

“To be honest,” he scratched the back of his head. “I would have flirted with you earlier if I had known you were Ladybug. I liked you before, I was just trying to pretend I didn’t, because I wanted to be loyal to...well, you.”

She held him softly in her hands. “We’ve made a mess of things, haven’t we?”

“It was for our own good. Secret identities and all that.”

“You almost sound like you just repeat that to yourself, but you don’t believe it.”

“I had to repeat it to myself,” he urged. “Every day. Because I so desperately wanted to be with you, to spend time with you out of the suit. I was so lonely and I thought, if there was one person I could trust with my identity, it had to be you. But I wanted to honor your wishes. I just hoped to wear you down, eventually.”

She passed her thumb over his cheek and whiskers. “I had been thinking about it, ever since I became the guardian. I wanted to keep you safe, but if something happened to Plagg and you couldn’t transform, no one would know. I’m not upset with you, Kitty. Though I wish this reveal had happened a little more...mutually.” Suddenly, her eyes widened. “What are we doing?! We have a sentimonster!”

“Aw let him fight on his own! He deserves some sort of punishment for this and I have yet to come up with a good one.”

She chuckled. “Alright, fine. We’ll give him a few minutes and see how things are going.”

“You’re taking this better than I expected.”

“I’m in shock.” She chuckled, a little hysterical. “It took me so much courage to confess…and it wasn’t even to your face. That would happen to me.”

He floated out of her hand and nuzzled her face. “All that matters is that I know. We can’t be together quite yet, but the second I get my body back, I plan to make you mine.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely, Bugbear.”

She kissed between his ears. “Okay, My Prince. I look forward to it.”

The ring on her finger beeped, and a paw pad faded out.

“What was that?”

Adrien sighed with relief. “The condition has been met.”

“Condition?”

Just then, a swath of Ladybugs rushed over the city, righting whatever the Sentimonster had ruined.

“Well, looks like he didn’t need our help after all.”

Marinette laughed slightly. “They have been doing this a long time. It probably only took them this long to get it because of travel time.”

Adrien nodded. “So, just to clarify, you aren’t mad at me?”

“Of course not! It sounds like Plagg tricked you. Though I am mad at you for reading my diary…and watching me change!”

“In my defense, I was not warned you were going to change.”

“Still you could have turned around!” She blushed.

“Sorry, Bugaboo, I guess I was just a little star struck.”

She bopped him on the nose. “Now don’t try to flatter me to get out of being caught.”

A yoyo wrapped around the chimney above their heads, and Misterbug made his appearance. His very jarring, ancient appearance. He wore black leggings with a red loincloth around his waist. His shirt was cropped and had billowing sleeves. The mask was just a cloth that tied around his lower face.

“Well well well, I figured if you weren’t on the battle field, you were busy having a lover’s quarrel.” He smirked, the smile only creasing his eyes.

Marinette looked to Plagg. “Dearest Sunshine, do you mind terribly if I abuse your body?”

“Be my guest.”

Marinette wound up a punch and socked Plagg right in the shoulder.

“Ow! Hey, that actually hurt.”

“I hope you, you monster! How could you hurt my poor, sweet, innocent Adrien!?” She cuddled him close to her cheek.

Plagg scoffed. “Puh-lease. There is nothing innocent about that boy. Spots off.”

The pink light faded, and Adrien’s body remained. It was almost hard to look at him, even though she knew it wasn’t really Adrien.

“Oh, now she gets all shy~!” Plagg taunted. “I should have retransformed when I landed. Maybe she wouldn’t have punched me!”

“You deserved it.” Tikki said, flatly.

“Yeah, whatever. So? How’d it go?”

Marinette held out the ring. “It beeped?”

“Excellent!” He took it off her finger. “Two to go!” He slipped the ring on and took off the earrings. “Now I just have to focus on Gabriel and Lila. I think Gabe’s getting ready to crack. Lila though, I might have to push a little harder.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Marinette added. “It makes me feel better that I might not have to put up with her for much longer. So I can take a little damage.”

Adrien frowned. “Can’t I stay with Marinette a while longer?”

Plagg huffed. “I mean you could…but then you couldn’t see the absolute chaos that I planned.”

Adrien winced. “Ugh, fine. I’ll go with you.” He turned to Marinette, pressing a kiss on her cheek. “Bye Bugaboo. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay Kitty. I love you!”

Adrien’s heart nearly burst with love. “I love you too!”

“Gross.” Plagg gagged. “Alright, time to go! Adrien, Claws Out!”

—

Chat Plagg Noir returned to the Lahiffe residence, and swung in through Nino’s window.

Nino for his part, was nearly dancing in panic.

“You good, my man?”

Nino shook his head frantically. “There’s a policeman here for you! I tried to stall as long as I could, and said you were asleep and a heavy sleeper! But I think he’s about to burst down my door!”

“A policeman? What for?”

“I don’t know! He just said he had to talk to you!”

“Claws in.” Plagg walked over to the door, and exited, pensively watching the uniformed man in the living room.

“Did you have a nice nap?” The man asked, arms crossed.

“I did, until I was shaken awake. Is there a problem officer?”

“Adrien Agreste, you are under arrest.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml #fanfiction #I'll handle this #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #adrienette #adrien agreste #adrien and plagg #body swap #identity reveal

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unlikelyempathpruneauthor · 4 years ago

Text

Family Support

A/N: Okay so you know how in season 7 episode 11 Reid was at the convention talking and like no one was really interacting with him there beside that one dude. I felt really bad cus he looked really sad that prentiss and that other lady were getting attention….sooooooo what if like reader surprised him by bringing along their kids. sorry this might be bad lol, no one really requested it I just thought of it. so enjoy!

When Spencer told you he had a convention to go to with prentiss and a criminal author, you were very excited for him. Whenever he had one of these, he would get nervous but you would remind him that he was gonna do great. You knew it was very hard for him to talk in front of people, but he tried his best. You knew he did. After the conventions, he would get a little sad because no one would ask him questions or interact with him either during or after the convention.

“I don't know why no one gets me, I mean they're there for a reason right? They should get my jokes and sayings right?” he would say to you as you came to comfort him after putting your two kids to sleep and laid next to him while he rubbed your belly carrying your third kid, you weren't far along, but you recently started showing. “Well spence, they don't have an iq of 187 or even have 3 phds and 2 BA’s handsome.” you said as he smiled at your comment.

“Right you’re right, i'm never doing those again, im terrible at talking.” he groaned as he placed his pillow on his face as he mumbled a little more making you giggle at your husband.

He would almost always do that when he came back from those conventions, so this time you were going to surprise him with your kids to see their dad talk about what he does. Your kids, Franklin and Diana, knew what you and Spence did, but not the specifics, of course, but then again they were not like normal kids. They inherited their father's smarts, and some of yours too, but you knew the smarts mainly came from him.

Their brains and knowledge aren't the same like most 9 and 6 year olds. They are a replica of Spencer in so many ways, but he would always tell you they look like you.

You told Hotch you were going, and he understood completely, you happily took your kids and headed to this convention.

As you went there it was filled with lots of people. Now you understood why he was scared, but you knew he would be great. As you took your seat you sat in the middle row and sat your kids. Prentiss was quick to see you and walked over to you.

“Hey y/n, i didn't know you were gonna come.” she said as your kids spoke up. “Hi aunty emily.” “Hi kiddos.” she said as she smiled looking at them. “Well i thought we could come here, to support daddy right?” you said as your kids nodded. She looked at you knowing you were hiding something, in a way she profiled you in seconds.

“Hey don't profile me.” you said as she playfully rolled her eyes. “Come on it's me, what's wrong?” she asked as you sighed. “Okay fine fine, he said that he hates it when people come here and don't understand him and i thought why not bring people who do, and who better than those people being his family and kids and future boy or girl genius.” you said as she smiled at your love and support for spencer. Who knew years later you two would get married and have kids.

“y/n these kids are what 3 or 4? And future boy or girl genius isn't even born yet.” she said as you giggled.

“Actually Franklin's 9 and Dia is 6 and we know boy or girl genius already has lots of knowledge of this kinda stuff ” you said as she was shocked by their age. Time really was a son of a bitch when you had this job. “What? When were their bir-” she said as she got called. “Well tell me later, enjoy the show.” she told you as she walked back up to her chair. As Spencer walked out he looked very nervous, but you knew he was gonna end up doing great. He didn't notice you since you were in the middle row, which was expected. You just rubbed your small belly and whispered at the little fetus.

“Look it's daddy, Dia, he's gonna talk in a little.” Franklin whispered at his sister while she smiled looking at her dad. Then Patricia, the author spoke up, “In the end, I just write about violent crime. The real heroes are the people here beside me. Now, give a warm welcome to our next speaker, Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU.” she said as you looked at your kids in awe while they were clapping for their dad. “Its daddy!'' Diana said as Franklin sat her on his lap for her to see him. “Hi im, uh dr. Spencer reid… sorry. Uh. Hi. I am here today to talk to you about paraphilias and their relation to violent crime.” he said as everyone just coughed and looked at him blankly.

“Does anybody know what dendrophilia is?” he asked as Franklin raised his hand and you noticed putting his hand down quickly. “Yeah whoever that was?” he said as Dia moved and let him stand. “It's a fetish for trees.” Franklin said as everyone turned over to him shocked that a 9 year old was responding to such a question. Spencer just smiled at the way his son just answered that question out of nowhere. He then looked over to you and Dia, he smiled and appreciated you doing this.

“Yes, that's right, little man.” he said as he continued on with his talk and people were more and more intrigued on what he had to say. You could say your job here was done but you and your kids stayed till it was over. You loved seeing your husband talk about the things you do on a daily basis, and seeing him be happy talking about it with people who are interested makes you even more happy. Seeing him happy made you happy.

After it was over you all walked over to him and he just embraced your two kids in a hug. “I didn't know you guys were gonna be here? Who’s idea was it?” he said in a cheerful voice as the kids shrugged. “Definitely our little brother.” Dia said as Spence looked at her in shock, you were also shocked because you didn't know she even wanted a brother. This was the first time she even mentioned it, Franklin though, he knew he wanted a sister. “No! Our little sister Dia,” Franklin said as you giggled at the way they fought with one another about what you were expecting.

“Come on, we all know it was their idea.” you said as you rubbed your belly. “Of course, huh so mommy wasn't up to this then?” he asked as your kids shook their heads. “Hmm alright i believe you. Did you guys like it?” he asked as you all waited for prentiss to be done. “Yes daddy, you looked like a superhero up there, like spiderman.” Franklin said as Dia butt in. “no definitely not spiderman franklin, he was like superman.” she said as you two laughed at their nonsense fighting, which was so funny, they were like older people in little kids bodies.

As you waited you sat at a table where they could draw and he embraced you in a hug “Thank you for bringing them, you didn't have to do that.” he said as you smiled at him. “Well you're welcome bubs, but i did have to.” you said as he pursed his lips, “Well not necessarily,” he said as you squinted, “actually i did because one we’re your family and you've been to lots of baseball games and dance recitals, it was our turn to come support you.” you said as he kissed you which made your kids giggle at the sight of you kissing. How did he get so lucky to be with an amazing woman like you. He knew you were the one since he met you and he knew even more now.

“Plus, I figured we could have a non negative talk about you complaining tonight.” you said sheepishly as he sensed your joke. “Please you like it when I complain. It's how we made that little guy.” he said as you playfully slapped him, “not in front of the kids.” you said.

“Or girl!” Franklin said as you laughed even more. “But no really i'm happy you came, made my day seeing our little man answer that question.” he said as he smiled and you smiled too seeing how happy he was made you happy. “I'm glad my love, that's what i'm here for.” you said as you looked at your happy family, your smart, and beautiful family.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine

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