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ramblingoak · 4 months

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Naps With Copia

Chapter 6: A Much Needed Nap

Other Naps: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 7 / 8 / 9

For @papas-ghoulette 💙

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader

These are all stand alone chapters so you do not have to read one before the other! This series came from my post about wanting to nap with Copia all around the abbey. The stories will all have gender neutral readers and soft Copia naps.

Warnings: Reader has insomnia and Copia has the solution, sfw, 800 words (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

It had been another long night.

Another night of tossing and turning, of too much thinking. On nights like that it was like your body just wouldn’t relax. It didn’t matter what you did to try to calm down, to try to relax, nothing ever worked. You were doomed to just lay there and watch the minutes pass, to watch the night become morning. To watch the sun start shining in through the windows to greet another day.

Another day of trying to function on no sleep.

You stared down at your desk once more but the numbers on the budget paperwork were uncooperative and blurry. With a groan you let your head drop onto the wood, trying to keep the frustrated tears at bay. It wasn’t even lunch yet, you had practically an entire day left and not a single thing done. And it wasn’t guaranteed you’d get any sleep tonight either. Sometimes your insomnia lasted a few days in a row before you finally could get any decent rest. You shook your head against the wood while you mumbled under your breath.

“This is awful.”

“The budget usually is.” With a startled gasp you sat up, blinking your eyes up at Papa as he stood in front of your desk. There was a soft smile on his face when he spoke again, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing Papa. I’m just tired.”

“Ah, well you’ll have to get a good night’s rest tonight then, eh?” You couldn’t help but snort, shaking your head and mumbling under your breath again. People always acted like sleeping was easy. “What did you say?”

“I said…I said ‘fat chance of that’. Papa.” You winced, afraid to look up at his face. It wasn’t a good idea to mouth off to the head of the church. A man you also considered to be a dear friend. “Copia, I’m sorry. I’m just tired. Very, very tired.”

He started to walk around your desk and you froze, worried he was actually mad at you. Instead he knelt down at your side, placing his hands on the arm of your chair while he looked up into your face.

“I’ve had many sleepless nights myself, I know how hard it can be.” Your eyes filled with tears at how compassionate he was. Copia smiled, reaching up to swipe a few of them off your cheek with his gloved hand. “You know what we’re going to do?”

“What?”

He grinned as he stood up, taking hold of your hands and pulling you out of your chair. You stumbled after him as he first went to your office door and flicked the lock before he led you over to the big couch at the side of the room. Copia cleared up the random books and paperwork you had haphazardly stacked there before he situated the throw pillows at one end.

“Take a nap with me.”

“Copia, no! There’s too much to do, the budget needs to be finalized this week or Sister Imperator will have my head.”

“Have you done anything with the budget today besides stare at it?” When you crossed your arms over your chest he nodded, stripping his jacket off and then slipping out of his shoes before he stretched out across the couch. “Come on, come on.”

You stared at him, your brain trying to catch up with the last few minutes. This was not how you expected your day to go but you were definitely not going to turn down a nap with Copia. Your shoes quickly joined his on the floor and you gently tucked yourself in next to him, your head finding a spot on his shoulder. Neither one of you spoke as you both got comfortable, settling in together as best you could on the old couch. A hint of his cologne touched your nose and it seemed all at once your body and mind relaxed. You practically melted against him and his arms became tighter around you in response.

Copia reached up and pulled at the blanket you had draped along the back, covering the both of you as best he could. The warmth of that and of his body relaxed you even further and soon you were struggling to keep your eyes open. You found yourself wanting to stay awake and revel in the feeling of being so close to him, of feeling how much he cared about you. Your voice was a little shaky when you spoke but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Thank you, Copia.”

“No need to thank me, I could use one too.” He ran a hand up and down your back, the simple action the final puzzle piece for you to fall asleep. You felt a ghost of a kiss on your head before sleep finally, finally embraced you. “Rest now, for as long as you need.”

@ghuleh-recs your nap is next 😉

Other Naps: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 7 / 8 / 9

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#my fics #my writing #naps with copia #copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #copia fanfiction #papa emeritus iv fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #reader insert #copia fanfic #the band ghost fanfic #tw insomnia

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dorotharry · 3 years

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tiny dancer ; prologue

Pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x fem!reader

Next Chapter

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: kinda long for a prologue, fluff, not really much but please let me know if anything in this upsets you.

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: This is my first Bucky fic, I thought of it last night and I was kind of excited to write it. Sorry if any of the information is wrong as well my knowledge of Ballet and Brooklyn/NY are limited. I’m not sure if there are any similar story types but feel is so please let me know and I’ll tag them for people to read in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy :) Feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter.

Before everything - 1942

“Oh, come on Steve, come to the Ballet with me!” Bucky spoke enthusiastically, his arms pressed again the frame of Steve’s front door. “It’s my last week before I go.”

“And you couldn’t have just chose to go to a bar like any other normal man would a week before going to the war?” Steve responded looking sceptically at his best friend. Someone who he had never known to be interested in ballet.

“Because going to a bar filled with soldiers would be a bright choice for you,” sighed Bucky, “I’d rather not have to get into another fight…” Steve rolled his eyes and pursed his lips waiting for Bucky to continue. “Everyone in New York is talking about the Ballet! Don’t you want to feel cultured?” Bucky exclaimed moving away from the door frame. “Plus!, I got us pretty good seats if I do say so myself, what row was it again…?” He trailed off looking smugly at Steve. “…Oh, that’s right! Row three.”

“Too bad you couldn’t score front row,” responded Steve mimicking Bucky’s cocky attitude. Bucky huffed at his friend’s response. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” laughed Steve, “Fine if the ballet is where you want to go a week before you go, then the ballet is where we’re going, I guess.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up at his friends’ words. “Yes! This is going to be great, a night on the town, just two gentlemen going to see the ballet.” He grinned, Steve noting how happy he seemed to be going to the ballet; he wasn’t sure why. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6pm”, Bucky spoke turning away from his still sceptical best friend.

“Okay then,” responded Steve watching him walk off.

Just as he’d said, Bucky had picked Steve up the next day, driving them to the theatre and making it there for 6:30. They wandered the foyer looking at all of the people dressed up to watch the performance like them. Many had already been a few times and were raving about what they were most excited for again. For Bucky and Steve though, this is new territory. Both of them glad though that they were doing something new. They made their way into the theatre finding their seats, as everyone began to pile in, ready for the show.

“I’ve heard that the lead female ballet dancer is meant to be very good”, whispered Bucky to Steve as the lights began to dim.

“You mean the Prima Ballerina?” Whispered back Steve correcting him.

Bucky looked at Steve with an amused look. “For someone who didn’t want to come you sure know a lot about ballet”, chuckled Bucky placing his focus back towards the stage.

Steve sighed and looked back at him, “I don’t know a lot of ballet, that’s just common knowled—” He was shushed by Bucky as he tapped him on the shoulder multiple times in order to tell him to be quiet. Steve looked towards the stage again as the orchestra began playing.

Bucky watched as the curtains opened, the stage filled with ballet dancers.

Not long into the performance you would enter, nervous side stage as your friends reminded you of how brilliant you would be. This wasn’t your first time performing but every time was just as nerve-wracking as the last. This was your passion of course, and you wanted nothing more than to be perfect. You looked down at your tutu, a bright red tutu, a colour that stood out amongst the rest of the cast who were dressed in whites and greens. Even the male lead was only dressed in white. You particularly like your pointe shoes the best; they were a stunning bright red to match the rest of your costume.

Shaken from your thoughts you heard the beginning of your entrance within the music, jumping up and down briefly before getting into position to enter. Then you did, getting into character instantly.

Bucky gasped as his eyes followed you as you entered the stage so gracefully. He had heard you were a magnificent dancer, but he didn’t know you were so beautiful. Composing himself in his seat he watched as you were so engrossed in the music and the dance. It was obvious you loved what you did.

As the ballet continued his eyes never lost focus from you. He even thought there was one time when you had looked at him in the audience, but he knew that couldn’t be true, someone so perfect would never draw their focus from their work to look at him.

Even during the interval Bucky was in his own world as he thought about how captivating you had been. Barely listening but nodding as Steve spoke to him about his thoughts of the show.

When the show finally ended the crowd stood up applauding the performance. Eagerly so did Bucky, Steve following. As you bowed many people threw roses and he mentally cursed himself for not bringing any himself. The curtains closed and the theatre lights slowly came back on.

“Well I must say I did enjoy that,” spoke Steve as they exited the theatre, breaking the silence and pulling Bucky from his thoughts, he stopped walked and looked at Steve.

“Steve, call me crazy but I have to meet her, I have to know her name.”

Steve looked at Bucky and sighed knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Alright pal, why don’t we wait near the door the cast exit from?”

Bucky practically jumped up and down as he followed his friend, who somehow knew where the cast door was, although it wasn’t a hard guess. Just down the alleyway next to the theatre.

After the performance, adrenaline was running through you like crazy. You loved this feeling. Tonight’s audience was marvellous, and they held nothing back when applauding you all for your performance.

When you performed you couldn’t see much of the audience due to the stage lights, but you could see up to around the 4th row. While you had stopped at the end one of your solos in the first act your eyes had briefly stumbled upon a very handsome man with brunette hair. But you didn’t get a great look because as soon as one song ended the next one started.

You had removed your costume and let your hair out of its bun brushing it out and attempting to make it look as presentable as you could. You got into a nice dress which you had arrived in, keeping your makeup on along with your bright red lipstick. Grabbing your bag, you said goodbye to your fellow colleagues as you exited the backstage area and entered the alleyway.

As you got to where the alleyway ended, and the city sidewalk started you were met with the same brunette you had noticed during the show. “Miss, I’m terribly sorry to bother you after your show but I just had to introduce myself to such a beautiful and talented woman.” Rambled Bucky.

You blushed and looked down as your dress, “Why thank you…” you trailed off waiting for the handsome stranger to tell you, his name. He seemed a bit distractedd looking at your eyes that he didn’t catch on though, causing his smaller blonde friend next to him to nudge him.

“Oh, sorry my names Bucky,” he replied letting out a nervous chuckle, “and this is Steve,” gesturing to his best friend.

Steve raised his arm to shake your hand, “Sorry miss but what was your name again? Bucky here forgot to tell me.”

You raised your arm and shook his hand, letting out a giggle over the two men in front of you, “My names y/n”.

You looked back over at Bucky who seemed to be going over something in his brain. “I wanted to know if you wanted to get a drink or some food or something with me?” What Bucky thought would be a confident question turned more into a rambling mess. Gosh he thought you were pretty.

You blushed, “How am I to know you’re not a murderer?” Raising an eyebrow at the nervous man in front of you.

Steve interjected this time, “I can confirm y/n, he’s not a murderer. Honestly, he’s usually a lot better at flirting than this, I’ve never seen him look so nervous.”

Bucky sent a death glare at Steve before looking back at you. You laughed again, grinning ear to ear, “Well I am pretty hungry, so I won’t say no, especially when a ladies’ man is so nervous to talk to me.” You smirked.

Now it was Bucky’s turn to grin, “great!” He responded. “I just have to drop Steve home and then we’re all set… Did you have a car?” He asked.

“Nope,” you spoke back, “so… do you think you’d be able to drop me home afterwards?” you asked, “You know considering I’m being so nice to a stranger.”

“I was going to offer anyway,” he replied signalling you to follow. You chatted with the two men as you walked to the car, when you got there, you insisted Steve sit in the front considering he was being dropped home. Then once you arrived at his, you both said your goodbyes to Steve. “I hope to see you again soon,” you yelled from the car as you sat in the front waving.

Steve waved back, as Bucky drove off to one of his favourite bars/restaurants beeping his horn at Steve as he left.

The rest of the night went smoothly, you both ate and chatted for hours, feeling like time barely existed with one another. It may sound cheesy but both of you felt like you were meant to meet one another. The only downside was that Bucky had told you he would be leaving for the war at the end of week, so you both knew it could never be anything more until at least the war ended.

It wasn’t until you realised the time that you knew you needed to get home, being Prima Ballerina wasn’t an easy job and it required getting at least some sleep. Bucky understood and drove you home continuing to talk about everything together. He even confessed he wished he had of gotten you some roses, to which you responded that how would he have known to do that. Of course, Bucky being a gentleman he still was disappointed he didn’t, even if you didn’t mind.

When you got home you thanked him for the wonderful night. “I’m going to see you again before I go,” he said from in the car, as you stood by the passenger window.

“I hoped you’d say that” you replied, “Good night Bucky,” you blew him a kiss, and his cheeks turned a bright pink.

“Goodnight y/n” he replied, grinning like a fool. He watched you walk into your apartment to make sure you got in safe before driving off. Gosh you were perfect.

It was finally the day he left.

Just like he promised you did see him again. After each show through the week, he would bring you a rose. Each time making you blush.

Most days he just drove you home and you chatted in the car, but a couple of times you got dinner again and made the most of the time you had with your new friend. You wished he didn’t have to go; you wished every time you saw him you could kiss him. But that felt like it would complicate things, you hadn’t known him long enough to put yourself through that kind of heart ache.

You and Steve were at the train station saying goodbye to Bucky. It was hard for Steve, he wanted nothing more than to go with his best friend and fight for his country, but he couldn’t. They didn’t want him.

For you though, you had only known Bucky a week, you had grown so comfortable with him, so it was hard seeing him leave, not knowing if he’d come back. He knew more about you than some of your closest friends that you had known for years, he was just that kind of guy, someone you could trust.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to just grab you and kiss you, but he didn’t know if that’s what you wanted. Steve had told him the day before to just go for it, but he was unsure. He didn’t want to put you through the heart ache. As he picked up his bags, Steve gave him a giant hug, you stepped forward and did the same hoping you wouldn’t have to let him go.

Releasing each other from your embrace, you both looked into each other’s eyes. Your eyes filled with water, and you could tell Bucky was holding back tears.

“Goodbye Steve, goodbye y/n” he spoke sadly as he began to walk towards the train.

Steve looked at you as if to say, ‘are you sure you don’t want to just go for it?’ and you sighed. He was right, what was there to lose? Bugger this you thought, “Bucky!” you yelled running towards him, “You forgot something!” He turned around confused only to be greeted by you grabbing his face and softly yet hungrily pressing your lips to his. He sighed into the kiss dropping his bags, he didn’t push you away instead he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer.

This kiss was nothing like any of the kisses you had experienced before, if fact it made you feel the same way ballet did. It was the same for Bucky, none of the kisses he had ever shared with anyone felt like this.

You finally stopped and parted, resting your foreheads on one another’s.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll see you again.” He spoke softly to you.

You stepped back as a few tears fell down your face, nodding. He gave you a charming Bucky smile before picking his bags back up and turning away. You walked back to Steve giving him a hug, as he watched his best friend leave him for the first time in his life.

You wanted nothing more than to believe that you would see each other again.

Little did you know you would, only 72 years later.

Chapter One (next chapter)

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tonystarksfavoritedaughter · 3 years

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Crazy Rich Avengers

Chapter 1:

Summary: You and Peter have been dating for a little over 6 months and have not yet met the Avengers. You were getting curious as to when you would meet them, until you get an invitation from Tony Stark himself, inviting you and Peter to Wanda and Vision’s wedding in Hawaii over Spring Break. You thought that it would be nice to go and finally meet everyone, but what will you think after you’ve been tested by the team?

*Based on the movie Crazy Rich Asians, each chapter will be a different scene from the movie. There will be 15 chapters. Also includes a GIF from the movie scene at the beginning of each chapter.

A/N: I’ve had this series planned for a little while now, and I just got this chapter done and edited and I feel really good about it. I didn’t know if anyone would want to read this until I posted about it yesterday and got some really good feedback, so thank you all who liked it and asked to be on the taglist so much! This chapter is the first scene of the movie, just some things are switched up to fit Peter and the Avengers. Just note that this one is kind of short and nothing much really happens in this chapter since it is just the beginning, but hopefully the next one is a bit juicer.

Warnings: swearing and fluff

Word count: 2166

Chapter 1

“Okay class, make sure to email me those presentations by Monday. I don’t want to keep reminding you guys over Spring Break because I’ve still got a life outside being a professor.” The whole class laughs at your professor’s bluntness. It kind of reminds you of your friend from high school, who would always spoke her truth, even when no one asked for it. You packed your things and waited for a clear space to exit your row. Who knew so many kids would be in a business class? Not you apparently. You were a culinary student at the Institute of Culinary Education or ICE for short. Your dream was to become a baker and own your bakery, hence the business class. This was your last class of the day, and you couldn’t wait to see your boyfriend. You two had been dating for a little over six months and it was the best six months you could ever ask for.

You exited out of the classroom, finally, and made your way towards the elevator. On the way down, you looked through your messages and saw that you had five new texts from Peter.

Peter: Hey babe! I’m out of my photography class now. (1:15)

Peter: Waiting by the couches (1:15)

Peter: I miss you (1:17)

Peter: I’m hungry. Let’s go to that pizza place for lunch. I really want some of their cannoli’s (1:20)

Peter: Y/NNN!!! WHERE ARE YOU??? (1:23)

The elevator stopped at the lobby and you walked over to Peter, who sprang out of his seat and practically ran over to you. He hugged with the force of what you assumed felt like ten tons just based on how tight he held you. You laughed at his clinginess and pushed him off of you.

“Dude my class ran like ten minutes late. What’s the matter with you?” you laugh.

He held your hand in his own and smiles at you. “Just missed you is all. Did you see my text about the cannoli’s?”

“Yeah I saw it.”

“And?” he asks hopefully.

“Aaaaaand what?” you played dumb just to see his cute pouty face.

“Can we get cannoli’s?”

“Yes, we can get a cannoli.”

“Ah! You’re the best! Cannoli’s!” he yells at an insane volume for someone who’s just walking down the street. This earns you both a weird look from the people on the sidewalk. You were about to kiss his cheek until he just took off down the street with your hand still in his. You guessed you never knew he liked cannoli’s so much. Maybe you should try out a recipe and make him some one day.

You get into the pizza restaurant and sit down across from each other and waited for the waiter to take your order. You order your drinks; Peter gets Diet Pepsi and you get a Sprite. Both of you talk about how your classes went and held each other’s hand while you talked.

“So, I’ve got to do this project for my class,” Peter began, “And my camera is at the Compound, so tomorrow I’ll be a little late getting home.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Oh! Speaking of which,” you slam your palms on the table, which makes Peter jump a little. “When am I going to meet them? I mean we’ve been dating for going on seven months now, and I still haven’t met them. And I know they know about me because I got a message from Nat telling me happy birthday two weeks ago.” You raise an eyebrow at him waiting for his answer.

“Speaking of said topic, that reminds me. We got invited to Wanda and Vision’s wedding. And it is next Friday in Hawaii, which is perfect because a) we don’t have classes because it’s Spring Break, and b) I know Hawaii is one of your bucket list places.”

Your jawed dropped for several reasons. One, it’s Wanda and Vision’s fucking wedding! You never met them, but from the way Peter talked about them, you could tell they were meant to be. You always thought that they were like what you and Peter had times one hundred.

“Are you serious? They’re having their wedding in Hawaii?”

“Yeah. They thought that since Mr. Stark – “

“What can I get you two today?” the waiter asked breathless. You didn’t even realize how busy they were.

You looked up at him, “I’ll have a slice of the cheese pizza please?”

“And I’ll have two slices of the meat lovers. And can I get three of your best cannoli’s please?” Peter smiled at the waiter as he wrote down your order.

“Alright that’ll be right out.” He walked away almost jogging to get your order in. Goodness they were slammed.

“As I was saying,” Peter continued. “Mr. Stark has one of those beach houses in Maui and so, they thought that it would be the perfect place for them to tie the knot.”

“Wow, so, we’re invited? Like we’re going to Maui and attending the wedding? And meeting everyone?” you asked now slightly worried.

“Yeah,” he drags out confused. “That’s what kind of what ‘You’re Invited’ means.”

“I know, it’s just…this will be the first time I’m meeting them and I always imagined it would be at a like Sunday dinner type of thing. Not a fucking Avengers wedding!”

“It’s okay, I know they’re gonna love you no matter what.”

You take a sip of your drink, “This is also works out for another reason because MJ has been asking us to come see her ever since she moved to Kahului.”

“All the more reason to go.”

You both get your food and Peter immediately starts on the cannoli’s that he’s been longing to eat and practically moans at the taste of them. You get the check and pay and tipped extra for your waiter, because they need to be paid way more than minimum wage. The two of you walk out and head home so you can spend the rest of the night together.

“So, when do we leave for Maui?” you ask, swinging your intertwined hands between the two of you.

“Umm, I believe on Saturday.”

Today was Thursday so that means that you only had tonight and tomorrow to pack for a whole entire week. “Shit! I have almost no clothes washed, are you kidding me?” you yell. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I just found out this morning!” he yelled back.

“Okay, well it’s a good thing tomorrow I don’t have classes because now I have to do laundry all damn day.” You reach your shared apartment and go to change clothes and you go straight to the laundry room, faster than Peter could imagine. All of your good, cute clothes had to be air dried and so that’s what you did first. After half hour of folding, and drying, and hanging up clothes non-stop, Peter came in wrapped his arms around you.

“Baby, you’ve been here for forever, come sit down with me,” he pleaded.

“I will once I have all the clothes done, but until then,” you pat his cheek. “I can’t.”

He sighs an ‘okay’ and plants a kiss on your cheek and walks away. About twenty minutes later you had gotten all the laundry done and went to join Peter on the couch. He was watching reruns of Brooklyn 99 which was one of your favorite shows. He put his arms out and made grabby hands and you leaned into his touch. You laid your head on his chest with the rest of your body sprawled out on the couch. He put his arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. You looked up and kissed his lips and sat up just a bit straighter. One of his hands went to the back of your neck and the other rubbed your thigh, and you relaxed even more into him. Your right hand carded through his hair and the other sat splayed on his peck, slightly gripping his shirt. You two stayed like this for what felt like hours, just basking in each other’s comfort. You pulled back to breathe and gave him one last kiss before going back to your original position, laying on him.

“What do you wanna watch?” He yawned.

“Well since your yawning and –“ you yawned this time. “And so am I, let’s just take a nap.”

He hummed in agreement and led you to your shared bedroom and he changed into just a pair of sweatpants. You laid down and he did shortly after. You turned, facing him as your chests were touching. You stared at him for quite a long time before you even realized that you were. His face scrunched up that was so cute you wanted to take a picture.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just look cute,” you said back.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Nope. I do,” he challenged.

“That’s impossible because I love you to Jupiter and back,” you kissed his nose, ultimately shutting it down because you were tired. School had kicked your ass this week and you hadn’t really had anytime to just lay with Peter. You scooted down a bit so, you could lay your head on his chest, your legs intertwined, as he held you against him so tight that nothing could slip in between you two.

The next morning you had woken up extra early to make some French toast for you and Peter. You got out the bread and butter and the rest of the ingredients and started cooking. Since you were the one who was in the culinary department, the silent agreement between you and Peter was that you would cook, and he would clean your mess. You tried to not make too much of a mess, because you weren’t that mean. After a couple more minutes you got breakfast done and at that exact moment you put the toast on the plate, Peter comes waddling out with his hair a mess. It was almost like it was scripted like a scene in a movie.

“I smelled French Toast,” he smiled.

“Mhm, I thought that I would be nice and cook breakfast for you this time.” You pecked his cheek and gave him the syrup.

“Eat up and get ready for a long day of packing suitcases, babe,” you winked at him.

“Oh boy.” You didn’t hear his sarcasm often, but when you did it always made you chuckle.

He went over to the couch and you followed setting up the coffee table and turning on Spongebob to watch as you ate. You turned towards him and smiled and received a kiss on the nose. Today was going to be a good day, you thought.

It was now four thirty in the evening and you and Peter were packing up all your belongings into your suitcases. “Okay so you need your swim trunks, flip flops, sunglasses, and what else?” You ask.

“Is that just for swimming?” You nodded. “Then yeah I think that’s it.” You went over to his drawer grabbing his trunks out along with your swimsuit. You had all your clothes spread out into separate piles consisting of swimwear, pajamas, nice shirts, casual shirts, and wedding attire. Peter grabbed all of his clothes and stuffed them into his suitcase and you did the same. After that you went to the bathroom to grab all extra stuff that consisted of teeth and hair products, and everything in that category. Peter went into the kitchen to the medicine and started to pack anything that might be needed for allergy’s and whatnot. You figured you would pack your purse of carry on items before you left tomorrow morning.

After two hours of packing and double checking, and once the bed was cleared, you flopped down face first and groaned. “I’m so exhausted,” you huffed.

“Aww, is my baby tired?” He asked this as he pressed feather-light kisses to your neck that always made you shudder.

“Yes,” you say as you awaited a kiss on the lips. He happily kisses you, slow and lovingly, and you feel like you could stay there for eternity. He pulls away for minute to catch his breath. “We should probably figure out what we want to do for dinner.”

“How ‘bout leftovers? There’s still some enchiladas or lemon pepper chicken in the fridge.”

“Ooooh, let’s do chicken.”

You get up from the bed to heat the chicken up in the oven. “Imma make some garlic cheesy rice too!” You shout from the kitchen.

“Sounds good, baby.”

You two make your dinner and eat in a comfortable silence, watching TV. You both decided to watch one more episode of Parks and Rec before calling it a night, and Peter figured it would be smart to go to bed early since you would both have a long day of checking flights and meeting the Avengers tomorrow; and that was tiring by itself.

Tag-List: @randomstufflol29 @spideyspeaches @binnotjin

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot

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official-weasley · 3 years

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The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 5, Ch. 8

PART 5: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYONE FIGHTS

Chapter 8 - Career Advice Match

Nova

It seemed like we were standing in the Forest, embraced, for hours. Neither of us indicated that we wanted to move. I certainly didn't mind. It didn't matter to me if we would stand there forever.

“It's getting late.” Charlie whispered in my ear. I looked up and noticed that it was almost nighttime.

“Yeah.” I chuckled but didn't let go of him.

“You know if we try really hard we can walk to the Castle like this.” He said gently. I pulled away but just a little bit.

“I think we are both too clumsy for that not to end in an accident.” He laughed and we slowly made our way back.

We didn't talk but I preferred it that way. I knew we would need a couple of days to process everything and go back to the way things were. I couldn't help to think that something changed with us in the Forest. I don't think things between us will ever be the same, but not in a bad way. We felt more grown-up.

We made our way to the Great Hall as we realized we just might catch dinner. I saw our friends sitting together and Penny spotted us at once. She nudged Tulip who nudged Tonks and they all turned to us.

“Please, tell us that this is all over and we can go back to being friends?” Tonks tried to decipher our faces.

“We're okay.” Charlie pulled me in a half hug, looked at me, and smiled.

“Oh, thank Merlin! I couldn't take any more of this.” Penny pressed her hand on her chest. Neither could I. I think we were all relieved that it was finally over.

“Sit down you two.” Bill frowned at us and we sat down immediately. “Now, I won't be here next year and I don't want to get any letters that you two are having problems again, got it?” We both nodded as if a parent was scolding us.

“Your friendship is too important for fights like this and I will make Penny, Tonks, and Tulip write to me if you are being stubborn again!” We nodded again.

“Good.” His face went from a serious one to a big grin. “Nice talk.” Tulip and Penny giggled.

“Did you yell at her, Charlie?” Tonks asked, frowning at me.

“No, Tonks. We forgave each other.” Charlie smiled. He was so calm and there was something different about him but I couldn't quite figure out what it was.

“Something you should've done 14 days ago.” Jae rolled his eyes.

“We know. We're sorry we had to put you through this.” I apologized and leaned on Charlie's shoulder. How good it was to do that again.

“Are you children ready for your O.W.L.s?” Bill grinned at us and Penny looked like she was about to cry.

“We still have time!” Tonks said, of course. We all laughed.

I missed my friends so much and I made a promise to myself that I will never take them for granted again or do anything as stupid. I loved our lot too much to make such a mistake again.

“I think we're going to do just fine.” I said.

—

As I predicted, things started to get back to normal after a week. I still wasn't able to play Quidditch because of my back and I was happy my Team, except Skye, understood that we would end up in the last place. To be honest, I didn't miss it much at all. I much rather hung out with my friends at the stands cheering for Charlie. I was sure he was going to become Captain next year, he was brilliant! Nobody was really surprised when they won the Quidditch House Cup for the third year in a row. Having Charlie as Seeker was the best decision they made in years.

Tulip and Jae started sneaking into the Kitchens, their favorite spot for studying as Penny still didn't know how to get inside. They also managed to convince Tonks to come with them and she actually studied something else than Herbology for a change.

Penny spent most of her time in the Library with Bill and Andre. Bill was doing much better with N.E.W.T.s than he was with his O.W.L.s. I think that internship with my dad calmed his nerves and helped him realize that grades aren't everything. Andre was doing so much better with Transfiguration that I had no doubt he will pass the examination.

Charlie and I were partners again in Care of Magical Creatures and we went back to sitting together in Transfiguration and History of Magic. I caught myself staring at him a couple of times in Professor Binns' class as he was snoozing, his head on his arms. He was cuter than a Crup puppy.

Our favorite place to study was down at the Lake. It was getting warmer and we couldn't resist catching some sun rays. We were doing good and I don't think I was so confident about my exams last year as I was about O.W.L.s.

When we weren't studying we were either reading books together, talked about our Career Advice Meeting which was fast approaching, or quizzed each other on animals. We also paid a visit to Hagrid a couple of times and apologized for not seeing him almost all year. Good as he is, he completely understood that we were too busy.

On the day of our Career Advice Meeting, we were all nervous. Penny was shaking at the Ravenclaw Table, while the rest of us were trying to eat some breakfast.

“Get off it Pen, did you ever see Sprout bite?” Tonks said. I think Penny was making her nervous.

“No, but her plants might.” She responded. Tulip and I chuckled.

“You want to be a Potioneer Penny and you have never gotten a lower grade than an O in that class.” I tried to calm her down.

“Out of all of us, you have least to worry about, don't you think.” Charlie said calmly. He was so calm lately like everything was right in the world and I couldn't help but agree with him. Now that we were back to normal, everything indeed was right in the world. I still couldn't believe what an idiot I was and even though my friends forgave me, I haven't forgiven myself for what I've done. Every time Charlie looks at me, I remind myself how lucky I am to have him in my life and I know I will never do anything to harm our relationship again.

After breakfast, I wished Jae and Charlie good luck as they made their way to McGonagall's office. Tulip and I hugged Tonks and Penny, who was still shaking, and went to Professor Flitwick's office while they made their way down to the Greenhouses.

“Miss Blackwood!” I heard Flitwick calling my name. I stood up and winked at Tulip.

“Sit, Miss Blackwood, sit!” He squeaked. I love his voice!

“So, let us see.” He looked at a piece of parchment in his hands. I think he had my grades on it. “Exceptional in Charms, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Art.” He lowered the parchment and beamed at me. “Do I need to go on?” That made me relax a bit.

“Thank you, professor.” I smiled.

“So, what are your plans for your career, Miss Blackwood?” He sat down on a big pile of books.

“I want to be a Magizoologist.” I grinned.

“Really?” He asked, bewildered. “Pardon me for saying so, but that would be a waste of your Transfiguration talent.”

“Oh, it's quite alright, Professor. I believe Professor McGonagall used the same exact words when I told her what I want to become.” I smiled. It didn't offend me. I knew I was good at Charms and Transfiguration but talent can't beat my love for animals.

“You see,” I cleared my throat, “I wanted to be the second Newt Scamander since I was 4. I discovered my secret talent for Transfiguration in my First Year here and as much as I love the subject nothing can stop me from following my dreams.” I said proudly.

“I agree with you on that.” He corrected his glasses. “In that case, you would have to get an O in Care of Magical Creatures. Outstanding would also be preferable In Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, depending what path you will take...” He looked from the list to me.

“Oh, I haven't figured that out yet, Professor. I was thinking of checking out my options next year.” I said quickly. Besides knowing exactly what I wanted to be, I had no idea where would I work or what branch of Magizoology would I like the most. I wasn't like Charlie who knew since he was 6 that he wanted to work in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary.

“Very well.” Flitwick seemed disappointed. Not to brag but I knew I was one of his favorite students, but that's not going to change my mind. If my mum could come around to it, as she was hoping I would follow in her footsteps and become an Auror like her, then so can my teachers.

“I would then say that this is all. I have nothing to advise you, if you are so certain what you want to do, Miss Blackwood.” He smiled at me and stood up. “I can, however, ask Professor Kettleburn to give you some suggestions next year, if you'd like. It's unlikely that the students have the Career Advice Meeting with anyone other than their Head of House, but I would like to make an exception.” He winked.

“Thank you, Professor. I would appreciate that very much!” I shook his hand and exited his office.

“That was quick.” Tulip bit her lip. I knew she was nervous. Unlike me, she didn't know what she wanted to be at all. I think today was the first day that it actually hit her that we only have 2 more years to go.

“It's not a big deal. Perhaps, he would be able to advise you more than me.” I frowned.

“Was he disappointed that you didn't want to pursue anything with Charms?” Tulip giggled.

“And Transfiguration for that matter! He was not pleased at all.” I chuckled.

“Miss Karasu!” Flitwick called.

“Got to go! Meet you in the Great Hall?” I nodded and she went inside his office.

—

“Hi, Blackwood!” I grinned when I recognized the voice.

“William!” I exclaimed.

“You will never get over the fact that my full name is William, will you?” Bill rolled his eyes.

“WILL I?” I mocked and poked his ribs with my elbow. “What's your problem anyway, it's a nice name.”

“I prefer Bill.” He said after he thought about it for a second.

“True, it is sexier.” I winked at him. He stopped walking for a second and looked at me with his mouth open. I loved messing with him so much.

“I don't understand why you were so afraid of the Career Advice Meeting, Bill.” I changed the subject and he hurried to catch up with me. “It was a piece of cake.”

“I overreacted, okay?” He was still blushing from my earlier comment.

“You don't say.” I chuckled, put my arm around his shoulder and we entered the Great Hall.

“Guess what!” Tonks and Penny sat down on the opposite side of Bill, Jae, and me.

“What did you find out Tonks?” Her grin was unusually big.

“Hi, everyone.” Charlie sat down next to me. “That was the quickest meeting if I ever attended one.” He was beaming. Of course, he didn't have any problems. He had good grades and he needed O's in similar subjects than I did.

“Charlie, sorry to disturb your happy mo, but Tonks asked us to guess something.” I giggled. He blushed, realizing he disturbed us, and wrapped his hands around me, pulled me closer to him and nestled his chin against my shoulder, silent.

“If I continue with my grades as they are, I might get my dream job!” She lifted her hands in the air and left us all puzzled. I just realized that I had no idea what she wanted to do after school.

“And that would be?” Jae encouraged her to tell us more.

“I would need to do very good in Potions.” She looked at Penny, to indicate that she will need her help. “Defense Against the Dark Arts, which I am already quite good at. Transfiguration, which greatly improved since Nova's lectures and I am quite brilliant in Charms this year.” She beamed at us. I looked around the table. Everybody stared at her, bewildered.

“Hi, everyone.” Tulip finally joined us. “Why does everybody look like that?” She asked when she saw our faces.

“I just told them that Sprout told me I might be qualified for my dream job if I do well on my O.W.L.s!” Tonks explained.

“Really?” Squealed Tulip. “You'll be able to become an Auror?”

“An Auror?” Bill, Charlie, and I said in unison. Tonks wanted to become an Auror. I wouldn't have guessed in a million years.

“You didn't know she wants to be an Auror?” Tulip asked, puzzled. Apparently, she was the only one.

“I reckoned you knew.” Tonks scratched her nose. We all shook our heads as she rarely talked about anything else than things that can get you in trouble. Kind of ironic to think she wanted to become someone who is the exact opposite of that.

“Auror training is pretty demanding and you will have to spend a lot more time with your nose in the books rather than in Filch's Office, you know.” Penny said.

“I know, I know. I started studying and I am doing fine. Seriously, why are all of you so surprised?” She frowned.

“Well,” Charlie pulled away from me, “you always did so good in Herbology, we thought that maybe you would do something in that direction.” He scratched the back of his head.

“One of Nova's favorite subjects is Transfiguration and you don't see her applying for McGonagall's position.” She pointed at me.

“She's right, you know. Good for you, Tonks.” I gave her a thumbs up.

“I have you lot to thank. Wouldn't be able to do it without you!” Tonks grinned at us all and Tulip and Penny pulled her into a hug.

Penny then told us all about her meeting. There were no surprises there as a Potioneer she needed to do good in Potions which was the least of her concerns and it would also do her good to get an O in Herbology, for which she is confident won't be a problem.

Then we all looked at Tulip. I knew that she wouldn't want to work in her mum's coffee shop and she couldn't prank people for money. I knew she was smart and she loved Astronomy so perhaps she would like to pursue something in that direction. If I would have to guess I would see her as the next Minister of Magic. Wouldn't that be chaotic!

“I would rather not talk about mine.” She tried avoiding our eyes.

“C'mon Tulip, don't be shy.” Charlie encouraged her.

“Easy for you to say Mr. Weasley the Dragonologist. I have no idea what I want to do.” She frowned, worried.

“I don't either.” Jae grinned. “Perhaps we can work it out in the Kitchens.” He nodded his head towards the door and they stood up and left without saying another word.

“You reckon they're doing it?” Tonks asked innocently and completely out of the blue. Penny wanted to get up and leave but Tonks grabbed her arm and pushed her back down to sit. She even caught me off guard and I was pretty used to her asking blunt questions. This time, she left me speechless.

Bill was so stunned by the question that a piece of fries got stuck in his throat. Charlie, who was trying to act casual about the awkward situation but couldn't hide his red face, turned to Bill and saved his life with one slap on the back. Since when was Charlie so strong? I looked at his arms and I never noticed how muscular he has gotten in the last year or was he always like this and I didn't notice?

“Wha-?” Tonks asked.

“Don't you think, they went to talk about their careers?” Bill asked.

“Oh, William,” he frowned at me as I used his full name again, “you are too innocent.” Then I turned to Tonks. “And no, Tonks I don't reckon they're doing it. I do, however,” I leaned across the table to Penny and Tonks, “think he is going to ask her on a date.”

Penny gasped and Tonks looked disappointed.

“Ah, give it a year and you're going to answer with a yes to my question.” Tonks winked at us. Bill coughed again and I couldn't help but laugh. I will miss him next year.

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mmvalentine · 3 years

Text

Home is Where You Are pt 5 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. CW: Tamlin DV times under the cut. It gets better though, there's HEAPS of fluff that follows I promise!! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Rhys and Feyre stayed up talking for a little bit, Rhys poured her a glass of brandy and tried not to say too much as she recounted the night's events.

They had gotten into a fight. Tamlin had gotten angry. He was always angry, these days. Tamlin threw a desk, and knocked Feyre to the ground. An accident, just an accident.

"And... him controlling your food intake?" "Not an accident," Feyre admitted. "It started out as meal plans, when he was my personal trainer. And then we were dieting together, because he had done all this research. Then it was just me. I don't know where I lost control of it, I just stopped having opinions one day." She laughed, bitterly. "Not like me at all." "It's hard to form coherent thoughts when you're starving all the time," Rhys said.

Bottom line, Feyre had done it. Gave him back the ring and everything. There was a part of Rhys that was relieved but he also felt awful for having let it get this far. For not stepping in earlier.

"I should have said something," he told her. "You did," Feyre said. "I didn't listen." She pulled her feet up under her.

"It's just, I never had anyone look after me, you know? Not since I was thirteen. So, when Tamlin came along, and he dictated my exercise schedule and cooked my meals, it was nice. For once I wasn't the one running after everyone else. I guess I became afraid to leave.

"Until he threw a table and I remembered telling you that Tamlin wasn't your father. I was sort of right. Tamlin didn't even have to be drunk to start throwing furniture. I shouldn't have stayed so long."

Rhys slid a little closer to her and made sure she was looking into his eyes. "It is not your fault that this happened," he said. "This is no one's fault but Tamlin's."

In the weeks that followed, Feyre bounced back at a rate that had Rhys marveling at the strength of her. She was quiet the first couple of days, and mostly stayed in her room. But Rhys would come invite her to taste what he was cooking, or watch what was on Netflix, or give an opinion on the magazine piece he was working on. The bruise on her cheek faded, she gained weight back little by little, and then one day Rhys came home to find her humming in the kitchen while she made spaghetti and he wanted to pick her up in his arms and spin her around the room.

Instead, he settled for sitting on a bar stool and letting her bring a spoonful of sauce to his lips, while wearing the biggest, goofiest grin he had ever had. "Good?" Feyre asked. "Amazing," Rhys said, and when she beamed at him it knocked the breath out of him. "Excellent. Give me like, ten minutes and then come eat." Rhys raised his eyebrows. "You're cooking me dinner?" he asked. "I am. Now go take a shower and put on your comfy pants, because I made so much garlic bread."

Rhys didn't move. Feyre put the ladle back in the pot, wiped her hands on a tea towel, then realised he was staring at her. "What?" she asked. Her blue-gray eyes went wide, and a wisp of hair fell into her face. She had her curls piled on top her her head, beautiful and shiny again now that she was eating, and she was wearing a knitted, over-sized sweated that was rolled up at the sleeves and somehow looked incredible on her.

"Feyre Archeron you are a wonder," Rhys said. Feyre grinned. "Why thank you, Rhysie darling." She flicked the tea towel at him. "Now get, my garlic bread is burning." Ten minutes later, Rhys sat at a small, round table in sweat pants and a black sweater. It was the table from his balcony, but since it was raining out, Feyre had dragged it inside and draped a table cloth over it. She fussed around him, setting everything on the table and slapping his hands when he tried to help. Finally, she sat down opposite him, and the table was so small their knees knocked together.

"And just what is the occasion here?" Rhys asked. Feyre's cheeks were rosy from standing over the stove, and then rushing around the table. She smiled at him, and then took a deep breath.

"I just wanted to say, thank you. For giving me a place no one could find me. For seeing me. For reminding me that carbs exist!" She grinned. "For-" "Don't," Rhys cut her off. "Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum for you. After everything you've been though, you amaze me every day with how strong you are." "Well," Feyre said, "if you can survive after your dad..." Her face changed then. Her mouth got sad, but her eyes were bright. "I can survive after Tamlin." She raised her wine glass.

"Fuck those abusive shit heads," she said. Rhys picked up his glass. "Fuck yeah."

Then Feyre smiled again, and Rhys had no idea how he was going to get through dinner if she kept doing that.

"Okay eat up!" she said, and he laughed into his wine as he watched her twirl and then devour an enormous mouthful of spaghetti. A fucking wonder indeed.

Over the next six months they settled into an easy routine. Feyre was at the studio three days a week, and also started a kick boxing class with another woman she had met in her therapy group. Rhys started to wish his days away so he could get home and watch Feyre bounce around the apartment. He had never particularly enjoyed being there, but these days he couldn't wait to get home.

They cooked together on the weekends, and watched TV on the couch on week nights. At first, Rhys had been very careful about being in her personal space, since he remembered hating to be touched for years after his father had died. But Feyre seemed so comfortable around him. She would grab his arm when she thought of something funny to tell him, or smack him when he teased her, or lean against him when she started to doze in front of the television. After she started her class, she would practice her kick-boxing moves on him, and once accidentally hurt him more than she had meant to. It had been utterly, completely worth it.

They never outright discussed how long she would stay. Early on, Feyre had mentioned apartment hunting. But Rhys had just shrugged. "It's rent controlled here," he said. "And I'm paying for that room whether you're in it or not. Stay as long as you like."

So little pieces of Feyre started to appear all around the house. Her toiletries in the kitchen cabinet, stray hair ties on the bench top, her favourite biscuits in the cupboard. Once, he had come home and she had a row of underwear hanging up over the balcony. He had almost had a conniption at the thought of her in lace.

It was a thought he buried, hard. The last thing he wanted was to have told Feyre that she could come and be safe here, and then make a move less than a year after her broken engagement. If she wanted a quiet life here with him, that would absolutely be enough.

Although, some days were harder than others. The thoughts could be shoved aside, but he had no control over the way his body reacted to her. To her barefoot in the morning and rubbing sleep from her eyes. To her stretching in the living room before a run. God, one time the washing machine broke and she had nothing to wear, so she borrowed one of his shirts to wear to bed. It was almost cruel.

One day, Rhys had worked late and by the time he was home, Feyre had fallen asleep in front of the TV. He turned the screen off, then squatted down and gazed at her resting face. Her perfect, rose petal lips were slightly parted, she had a frown, and was muttering under her breath.

"Feyre," he whispered. "Feyre we've got to get you to bed." "Rhys," she murmured. He thought she was waking up. "Yes honey, it's just me." Then she moaned his name. "Rhys, don't stop." What? "Mm, right there, don't stop."

Rhys stood up so fast he nearly tripped over the coffee table. The sound of his heel kicking the wood had Feyre startling awake.

"Rhys?" she asked. He had to double check her eyes were actually open this time. When he was sure, he sat down carefully on the table.

"Hello," he said. "I'm sorry to wake you." "It's okay," Feyre frowned. "We were just... I was dreaming." Rhys chuckled. "I know. You fell asleep on the couch. Do you want to go to bed?" Feyre's eyes popped open wide. "What?!" Then she relaxed. "Oh. Right. Yes, I should, ah..." she looked at him then, and blushed. Very deeply. "I should go to bed."

And with that, she wandered off, leaving Rhys completely dazed and not just a little turned on.

Two days later, Rhys woke up on a Saturday and had trudged out to make some coffee. Feyre was already up, sitting at the counter reading a book. He turned on the machine, yawned, and stretched while waiting for it to do its thing. He hadn't worn a shirt to bed, and the morning chill sent shivers along his bare skin.

Then he glanced over, and found Feyre staring at him. Glassy eyed, parted lips, naked staring. And not at his face, either. A feline grin stretched itself over Rhys' lips.

"Good book, Feyre darling?" She jumped sightly. "Ah, yes," she said. "Very... very good." She slid off her stool. "I'd better get ready, kick boxing, you know." "Sure," Rhys said, still grinning. She slipped away, without making eye contact. Rhys poured his coffee.

Five minutes later, Feyre emerged wearing the tiniest pair of exercise shorts he had ever seen. He almost spat his drink.

"Well," she said brightly. "I'm headed off. Might go by the shops later, do you need anything?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to struggle. He shook his head. "Have fun," he managed. Feyre flashed him a dazzling smile. "Thanks!" she said, and bounced out the door.

Oh. Oh he was in trouble.

****

That's right folks, you have made it through the angst and I am now burying you in fluff. Nothing brings me greater joy except smut.

I apologise for the length and for squishing 6 months into this one chapter. It was originally two separate chapters, but I felt like I was undercutting you in the fluff department and I didn't want to break my promise. I kept the original pacing on my ao3.

As always please let me know what you think!!

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @asteria-of-mars@booksmusicandgoodvibes @burritowithfeels

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #acosf #angst #rhysand #mine

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

Text

Superior Specimen - Chapter 8

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Angst, Argument, Jealousy, Talk of car crashes, heroics, rough sex, use of safe words, Anal play,

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Chapter 8

On the tube an old woman had offered you a tissue and had whispered quietly;

“He’s not worth crying over my dear”

You swallowed and smiled weakly at her;

“Unfortunately he was… he was just an idiot too”

“They all are my dear, they all are”

She got off at the next stop, giving you a pat on the arm before leaving the carriage, leaving you ride the rest of the way to Fulham Broadway on your own.

You were on autopilot when you arrived, walking through the small shopping mall that had grown around the tube station, grabbing a pair of overpriced knock-off designer sunglasses from the concession stand to hide your puffy and red eyes, swollen from crying. As you stood in the crowd at the lights to cross the road, a stream of Ambulances and Police cars screamed past, lights and sirens blasting, but it was London, every day there was a crisis or accident and you were used to them.

The walk to your flat was quick, just a few roads from the tube, and you were thankful you’d brought your small clutch bag from the hotel room that had your phone, wallet, and keys in. Once inside you pulled off your clothing, everything Henry had bought for you, tossing it into a heap on the floor before you climbed into bed and curled into a ball, sobbing into the pillow.

You woke to the sound of a metal on plastic crunch from the street outside, familiar with the sound and you knew it was vehicle vs wheelie bin, an all too familiar occurrence when collection day was on a Friday and people went out that night, so the street would still be littered with bins the following day. Staring up at the ceiling you heard the doorbell ring, glaring at the ceiling but refusing to move. You didn’t care if your bin that had ended up a casualty of a car not looking where it was going, so when the bell finally timed out you closed your eyes… only to be rudely disturbed by a loud knocking on the door a minute later, a muffled voice from the other side;

“Princess… it’s me; Henry… please, just tell me you’re ok… I’ve got to know you’re ok…”

You could feel your emotions rising within you; a heat, an anger, and as the knocking continued you grabbed the dressing gown hanging on the back of the door and was still tying it as you pulled the door open, but surprised to see state of Henry, his clothes a mess and his face blotchy;

“What the hell happe…”

Your words were cut short as he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight;

“You’re alright… my god, you’re ok…”

“Henry, what is going on?”

He let you go and started pacing;

“I was an ass, I didn’t follow you, I was stupid… I tried calling you but you never picked up…”

“I had it on silent… I didn’t want anyone to disturb our date”

“And then the accident, I’d gone back to the hotel, I knew it was the closest tube to where we were...”

“Accident?”

“There was an accident, on the road outside the London Bridge Tube, a bus and council truck collided and ran into the queue… I stayed and helped the emergency services; I was trying to find you… but you weren’t there…”

Your hand was over your mouth, tears pooling on your lashes as you looked at him, and realised he cared so much for you that he had literally pulled people out of the wreckage of an major accident because he thought he had lost you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you cradled the back of his head as he slumped to the floor, sobbing into your shoulder and the softness of your dressing gown.

Finally he pulled his head back, a weak smile on his face as he looked into your eyes, and you saw a different Henry, one that was fragile, one that needed you as much as you needed him.

“C’mon, let me put the kettle on”

Sipping on sweet tea as you both sat at the kitchen table, dunking Digestive biscuits in the deep brown steaming mugs, you looked him up and down;

“You are a mess”

He glanced down and realised his shirt and jeans were covered in dirt, grime, and in some places blood;

“You’re right” he paused before looking back to you; “Look, I’ve got a suggestion… pack a bag. Comfy clothing, overnight things. We’ll head back to the hotel and collect our things, then head back to my place. I’ll cook dinner and we can talk… ask all those things we’ve both wanted to ask since we met, yeah?”

He looked at you like a hopeful puppy, his deep blue eyes watery where he feared you would say no, but as you nodded he let out the breath he had been holding, and a genuine smile spread over his face.

Henry opened the door to his place and stepped aside, letting you enter and look around as he shut the door, resting all the bags from the hotel room on the shiny white tiles that covered the floor.

“This is your place?”

“It’s home for the next few months” he shut the door and wrapped his arm around you; “I gave up on having a permanent place about five years ago. I would always come back to a dust filled nightmare and a fridge that was a biohazard. I keep a PO box for any mail and a storage unit for my things that I don’t need when I’m away”

You looked at him;

“It sounds very… lonely…”

He paused, considering your words;

“I’ve never thought about it that way… but, you’re right” he wrapped his arms around you, his gaze intense; “I’m sorry I over-reacted earlier… about your flatmate. I was just… I don’t know, so focused I guess on this amazing thing we have now, and what we were talking about last night… how those I fall for push me away when I have to leave… I could only think ‘this guy will be around when I’m not’...”

You reached up and cupped his cheek with your hand, realising in that moment that for all the bravado and confidence, beneath that Henry was just like you, like anyone else, and feared losing those he cared for;

“I would wait… I will wait…”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, and the pair of you just held each other for the longest time, before he pulled away;

“What kind of host am I? I haven’t even offered you a cup of tea!”

Laughing you followed him into the kitchen, looking around at the sparse worktops, all the cupboards pristine white. Even the appliances were just plain brushed aluminium. As the kettle bubbled away you pushed yourself up onto the central island, sitting on the marble countertop as you watched Henry move around the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out the carton of milk, sniffing it and cringing;

“Okay, tea may be off the menu… the milk’s off”

Pausing he opened the cupboard, shoulders slumping when he saw the empty tea caddy;

“No tea either…”

Leaning back you pulled your phone from your pocket and opened google maps;

“This is Warwick Square, right?”

“Yes”

You pinched the screen and zoomed out, jumping off the counter;

“C’mon, there’s a Tesco Express just around the corner”

Walking hand in hand around Pimlico with Henry, it dawned on you that you had never visited this part of London, the sights and sounds much like most of the city, but where each little borough had its own character. Once you reached the supermarket he grabbed a basket and picked up the few things he needed, before his hand hovered over the selection of biscuits;

“Ok, make or break time to find out if we are truly compatible” his voice had an element of mischief in it as he spoke; “Milk or Dark Chocolate Digestives?”

You looked at the selection before you set your hand down on the bright blue packet;

“Trick question, we both know the true answer is Milk Chocolate Hobnobs”

He laughed as you dropped the packet into the basket, wrapping his massive arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest;

“I knew there was a reason I loved you” he turned to the row of refrigerators on the other side of the isle, unaware of what he’d said, and how your eyes were a little wider as you took in his admission; “Shall I make some burnt offerings for you tonight? I have somewhat limited culinary skills, but I can rustle up something with meat or fish…”

Nodding you were still a little stunned, finally finding your voice;

“Yeah, I’ll eat anything”

He cocked an eyebrow and you playfully batted at his arm;

“Oh shut up” you laughed

Dinner had been nice. An easy dish of roasted pork, Henry had thrown in some potatoes and had let them roast with alongside, and a simple salad. The one thing he did have readily stocked in his place was alcohol, and between the two of you an entire bottle of vintage Pinot Noir had been sunk over the course of dinner, and as you watched him stack the dishwasher you spread out on the massive white sofa that dominated the open plan space. You couldn’t help yourself but you popped the button of your jeans, letting out a sigh of relief.

Checking your phone you reopened your roommates’ email and read it again, before hitting reply. You knew deep down you wouldn’t be able to get a mortgage, but asked that you be kept in the loop and would start looking for another place come Monday. Having hit send you saw another email, this time from your Manager, requesting that you attend a review on Monday morning;

“Huh, so much for giving me a week off” you muttered to yourself, before looking up and seeing Henry approaching you, two full glasses of red wind in hand.

“Everything ok?”

Taking the glass you smiled;

“Yeah, work want me to go in for a review on Monday morning”

“Did they say what it was about?”

“No, but I’m guessing ‘playing heroics and injuring yourself on the job isn’t in your job description, please don’t sue us’ is probably on the agenda”

Settling next to you he rested a hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze;

“I’m sure you’re right” he sipped at the wine before setting it on the small table at the side; “Hey I meant to ask, does your roommate have an Instagram account or Facebook page?”

“Yeah, I’ll pull it up. Its where he’s trying to do more serious photography”

He nodded and tapped at his phone for a few seconds before setting it aside, raising his glass again and clinking it against yours;

“Cheers”

By the time the last dregs of the 2nd bottle of wine were drained from your glasses you were drunk as skunks and just an amorous. You were draped over Henry’s lap, his hand was attempting to sneak under your t-shirt as you curled one hand in his hair, wrapping a deep brown strand around your finger as you kissed him lazily. When his hand finally found your breast you moaned at his touch, his lips brushing against your neck;

“I think we should take this to the bedroom”

You giggled;

“With the amount of wine we’ve had? Can you still get it up?”

He pushed his crotch up against you;

“Princess I’m already ‘up’, now I need to be in, and I don’t care which hole, I just want to feel you around my dick as we have some nasty drunk sex”

You attempted to slide off his lap and land on your feet, but what really happened was you tumbled into a heap on the soft white rug, one leg still on the sofa as the other hit the coffee table and your ass in the air;

“Help!” you cried out, giggling as Henry stood and swayed, before wrapping his arm around your waist and carrying you under his arm to the bedroom like a misbehaving poodle in Harrods.

He dropped you onto the bed and in the light from the lounge you watched as he yanked his t-shirt over his head, and started to unfasten his jeans, letting out a sigh of relief when the massive bulge in his boxers was allowed more room to grow. With a growl be bent over you and pulled your jeans down your legs, your panties following suit, before flipping you over so you were on your front. He went to reach for your ass but had forgotten his jeans were still around his thighs, and he proceeded to trip-tumble onto the bed beside you. You couldn’t help but to giggle into the soft duvet, and it earned you a single spank on your ass that make you squeal.

Rolling onto your back you looked at Henry as he huffed and puffed to take his jeans and boxers off, and you spread your legs as your hands strayed to your pussy;

“Are you doing to fuck me, or shall I just get myself started?” you said with more sass than needed, but it earned you a low groan and you could have sworn you heard seams ripping as he finally rid himself of his clothes.

“Cheeky wench!” Henry pounced on you, pulling your top over your head before fumbling with your bra, finally getting you out of it as he flung it across the room and you heard it hit something in the darkness; “I’ll show you, gonna fuck you so good you’ll have to sit on a cushion when you go into work on Monday”

He flipped you over and pulled your ass up, and you instinctively arched your back and bared yourself to him, prone and ready, begging for attention. You felt his hands smooth over your ass before dipping between your legs;

“Already so wet for me, you need me to fuck this cunt Princess? Fill you up with my cum? Or should I cum over your beautiful tits, so you can watch me as I spray my load on you, huh?”

He slid two fingers into your soaked hole, stretching you as his thumb found your clit and he rubbed harshly at it, the wine making him lose his finesse but up his pressure. When he pulled his fingers out you let out a needy whine, only to feel him press his dick against you, rutting into your crease and smearing your juices over himself.

The friction was delicious, and you found yourself pressing back and eager for more, earning a low chuckle to rumble up from Henry’s chest;

“You like that Princess? Like me rubbing my dick against your asshole?”

“Oh fuck… fuck… more…”

You felt him spit on your ass as he lowered his dick and slowly but firmly filled your pussy. As you were getting used to be filled so deep you felt his thumb press against your asshole;

“NERD!”

Suddenly Henry stopped;

“Princess?”

You turned, looking over your shoulder;

“Look Hen, I may be up for some anal play, but lube… you gotta use lube…”

You saw him look back and forth between your ass and his bedside drawers, as if trying to work out whether to forget the ass play and just fuck your pussy, or to give up your pussy for just a few seconds and get the lube. In the end the lube won, and he quickly slid out of you, leaning across the bed and yanking the drawer open, before pulling out a small bottle of Durex Lube. You saw it and grinned;

“Ooh nice one. Make sure there’s enough for a tit-wank in the morning”

Henry paused and looked at you, and you could almost see his brain short circuiting at what you’d said as it fought through the wine haze;

“Fuck, if I didn’t want to fuck you doggy style quite so much I’d say let’s do that now…”

He settled behind you and rammed his dick straight back into you, making you squeal as he filled you. You heard the quiet squeeze of the pump on the bottle before the cool gel fell on the crease of your ass and his fingers started to massage against your back door. He ran his finger around and around your brown rose, and you could feel yourself relaxing and trying to push back to get him to go further, making you whine;

“Please Hen… do something…”

He ran his thumb over your asshole and rested it on it before finally pushing in, holding the digit inside just up to the first knuckle, and that’s when he started to move in your pussy.

“So. Fucking. Good. My dirty little Princess…”

You whined for more, for him to go harder, deeper, and he did so with glee;

“You want more? Fuck yes, take my dick, can feel your insides parting for me, you like my thumb in your ass? Like being double stuffed?”

“Fuck…” your head was swimming, your chest resting against the bed as you snuck your hand between your legs and started to strum at your clit, urging your orgasm on as Henry turned into a feral beast behind you, fucking you raw and dirty, you pushing back for each thrust to feel him deeper and split you wider.

Your orgasm happened without warning, screaming out his name as you came so hard he was sure if he hadn’t pulled his thumb out your muscles would have broken the bones in it. Your knees gave way and you slumped down onto the bed, Henry still deep inside you, fucking you as you lay spent on the bed;

“So close… almost there…

“Cum on my ass Hen…” you muttered as he railed into you, and you heard a groan as he pulled out of you, seconds later the splash of his hot seed landing on your naked ass, back and thighs.

For a moment everything went quiet before you felt him wiping his cum from you, and he moved you in the bed until you were curled up in his arms, the little spoon to his big;

“You’re fucking amazing Princess, I fucking love you so much” he slurred, before the two of you feel asleep in drunken stupors.

Chapter 9 >>>

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill au

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princeanxious · 4 years

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The Royal Librarian- Chapter 1

Chapter 1- “The Road to Perfection is Destructive.”

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ships: Future analogical, future sidelines royality, sidelines established dukeceit, background remile

Word Count: a little over 3k

Warnings For This Chapter: Virgil’s got anxiety and is a bit self depricating, brief mentions of panic attacks, Virgil stays up and works himself for so much longer and harder than is healthy for a normal person in one session, boi highkey overthinks a ton when he’s not occupied. Don’t work yourself for 24 hours straight like Virge does, it’s not good for you.

Minor notes on Virgil’s mental state in this fic: Virgil has ADHD(as reflected by my own life experience) that shows up in different ways here and there, and he suffers from RSD(Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria) which drives Virgil’s need to be perfect or fail till he damn near collapses from exhaustion, which also just feeds into his chronic anxiety. Thats all for now!

Chapter one(you are here!)|Chapter two(coming soon!)

Bonus stuff:

-the Rough Library Layout

[[MORE]]

Quiet. Such a word was practically synonymous with Virgil’s existence. The young adult practically grew up in silence, sought quiet spaces out like a moth drawn to a flame. And like a deer spooked by a snapping branch, he often fled from loud groups larger than three. He had been a quiet child, content to lose himself in any book he could get his hands on, reading for hours in any quiet atmosphere he could find. Alone, and content because of it.

So it was really no surprise he picked up a local library apprenticeship when he’d turned fifteen, and was a well-versed and well-read librarian by age nineteen. He had his lifelong friend Patton to thank for making him apply alongside hundreds of others to the opening position of the Royal Astra Family’s castle Librarian position, a year later. And, to be fair? He’d only applied because he’d been sure his resume would never have been seen, let alone selected, if only to simply placate his best friend’s excited begging.

He didn’t account for Patton’s connections as the Royal Head Cook to shift that margine of possibility to reach at least being seen. Though Patton chalked it up to the fact that he’d always talked about Virgil around the royal family anyway, long before the position had needed a replacement. It seemed to be just Virgil’s luck that ‘Virgil’ just happened to be a very uncommon name.

The panic attack that followed after he received a letter that his resume had been selected alongside a select few others for further evaluation had been a rough one. Still, he held out hope that his perceived inexperienced youth would save him, the stress and responsibility of such a serious job couldn’t be trusted with some ambitious kid like him, could it?

And, besides, it’s not like Patton’s constant praises carried that much weight, right? That's just how Patton was, a personified ball of sunshine! It was why Virgil was never surprised to hear Patton mention the royal family and staff by name on accident, or mention a silly story involving them in private, he’d clearly become close to them as the Head Cook. Though, the more he thought about it, he realized that.. Well, it’s not like the royal family had known Patton as long as Virgil had. Patton could be too trusting, and tried to see good in everyone, and well, perhaps the royal family trusted his judge of character over just simple skills. And wasn’t it just peachy that Virgil was lifelong best friends with said ball of personified sunshine? (Not that he’d ever trade their friendship for the world, never. It was just Virgil’s problem that he could never seem to tell Patton no, huh?)

Eventually, a nerve wracking week passed before Virgil finally had his answer in the form of an acceptance letter hand-delivered and an accompanying uniform and granted permissions to traverse and move into the castle grounds, all ordered and signed by King Thomas himself.

Apparently, his suspicions over Patton’s influence had indeed won out.

Three days later, Virgil finds himself silently saying goodbye to the home he’d made on his own, not as terribly forlorn over the loss as he thought he’d be. The small cottage he’d been renting didn’t feel much like home to him, anyway, not like a library did. Still, there was a longing to hide from the large change crashing into his life, and thrice he’d hid under his covers and cursed his weak will against Patton’s puppy eye’d pout. Eventually though, he’d talked himself out of his panicked haze, just in time for his first shift the following day.

“I can’t believe I let Pat talk me into this.” The ravenette grumbled as he leaned to the side. Using his weight and momentum to shift the sliding ladder he was perched on, he slid closer to the next book he’d been reaching for.

“Become the castle’s new Librarian! It’ll be fun, he said! It’ll help sooth my anxiety to work with even more books and even less people, he said, the head cook who works with at least 20 other staff each hour to maintain a steady meal plan for the entire castle staff daily!” The little librarian huffed to himself, resignation seeping out with each controlled breath.

His first day hadn’t been an easy one, and though he hadn’t expected it to go smoothly, he certainly hadn’t expected it to become such a mess. It wasn’t his first time working as a librarian, but leave it to good ol’ Virgil to let life make his days as eventful as possible!

From the moment he woke to the time he had his lunch break, not that he would actually willingly take a break nor need one yet, the day had been.. busy, to put it lightly.

It’d been storming when he woke, and though he was on time to get ready and leave, he’d only realized that his umbrella had broken the month prior. It had left him to make a twenty minute dash in the pouring rain when he found no other options.

He was plenty grateful for a bathroom stationed just inside of the library building entrance, where he hurriedly rushed inside to change out of his soaked attire. He’d been smart enough to pack away his official Royal Librarian uniform into a water resistant bag with a few additional dry essentials, and let his common clothes get soaked instead.

In a short six and a half minutes, Virgil was changed and mostly dry, though there was little he could do about his damp hair aside from comb his fingers through it. With his wet clothes packed away, he made it into the library on time to begin his first very long shift.

He’d already been sworn into secrecy when it came to occasionally dealing with the royal family’s history and artifacts in the future, and with his first and hopefully one of very few ever meetings with King Thomas out of the way, he was officially the new Royal Librarian. And now, also the only. As he was told in no certain terms that the last had retired and fucked off into obscurity before anyone had realized that the library had been left in disorganized chaos.

The old coot had apparently made his own system for everything, and hadn't bothered to write any of it down. From sorting sections to assigning books to genres, none if it clear and often very, very unorganized.

Virgil’s first big task was to comb through the entire damn building and use a new system, one that made sense. He was to reorganize every book and every section, using the appropriate genres and sorting. This way the royal family could actually functionally use the library and not waste time sorting through chaos.

This was where Virgil found himself three hours later, on the verge of a minor mental breakdown as he’d just barely sorted an eighth of the books on the main library floor into the Dewey Decimal system.

He’d had plenty of empty tables at the beginning of his journey, and right now every single one had some few stacks of books on each, labeled accordingly. Aside from his muffled ranting and the pattering of rain, the library was relatively silent.

It was odd, being alone in such a gigantic library. It almost reminded him of home.

He paused for a brief moment, having set down the final few books taken from the bookshelf he’d been working on. He’d gone through just one row of 6 bookshelves, and had 7 rows left to go, and that was just barely counting putting books back in the previous shelves as he went. A whine left him as he realized just how long this project was going to take.

“Fucking fuck.”

Somewhere between the second row and the third, Patton had stopped by to check in on Virgil. He found him hard at work sorting the fiction section on the left side of the building, tables half forgotten as Virgil attached unobtrusive non-damaging number labels to each and every book. Stacks of books lay carefully placed on the floor against each shelf, seperated by label and lack of label.

“You already look so at home, Virge!” The head cook whisper-shouted, though the sentiment was not necessary as the only other being in the library was the librarian himself.

“Yeah yeah, hush you. I’m a bit too swamped for ‘I told you so’s at the moment. So, what's up?” Glancing up at the taller man, Virgil briefly noted a small package wrapped in cloth was held in his hands.

“Can you spare a minute to eat?” Patton giggled, but Virgil knew better. He’d known Patton since they were kids, it wasn’t a question. Or a decision to be made. With a sigh, he placed the book he was holding in its place before turning to the cheery cook. “Yeah, I can.”

“How’s the kitchen today?” He asked lightly, having eaten the light meal quickly in order to get back to sorting. Patton hadn’t commented, nor had he been shooed away when Virgil began sorting again. He contently sat out of the way to finish his own lunch, his original goal having been accomplished.

“Oh! It’s going great today, honestly. Not too many mishaps from the newbies today either, so that's a bonus! And well, you know, making mistakes is in human nature but, they’re learning so quickly, I’m so proud of them! They’ll be taking my place by fall, just you wait and see! And, well, Roman stopped by earlier to swipe some snacks for Prince Logan, his brother, and himself. You know, the usual.” Patton chuckled, and if Virgil had looked, he’d seen the besotted look Patton always had when he talked about the head knight of the prince, he’d seen it a hundred times and was bound to see it a hundred or so more.

“Oh, speaking of,” Virgil butted in playfully, “I’ll finally get a chance to meet this knight and shining armor you’ve been swooning over for over a year now, huh?”

He watched Patton’s freckled face flush bright red, sputtering and then coughing on his mouthful of food. Virgil just cackled delightedly, stepping over to give Patton a few hard pats on the back to be sure his friend didn’t choke.

He laughed again when Patton gave him a pout and a soft “You’re so mean to me, Virge!” Eventually Virgil was able to placate Patton with a gentle hug, and the cook was sunshine and smiles again.

A finished lunch break later had Virgil finally sending Patton off, back to the warm bustling kitchens in the main castle building while he moved on to the next portion of his task.

He quickly found the steady back and forth rythme soothing. Pick a few books up, put them away. Pull a few books out, sort it by number as per their section of genre, set it in the right place. It was a blessing to find that there was just enough of a consistency to the previous plan that he could find up to five to six books in the same category in a row, and each set of books could be similar in subject, usually ending up just one section away. Often was the wayward book that found itself out of place, though he had assumed that these were often books just placed back haphazardly considering their subject patterns.

Often the most scattered and random books had ended up being of a few select categories. Without fail, he found that it would end up being a book on Space and Astronomy and/or Mathematics, in-depth Anatomy of Plants and Animals, young adult Fantasy Adventure novels, or Horror novels. It was.. Sort of odd, how there had been no section for each and all of these books, and yet there were so many evenly scattered. Perhaps that had been on purpose then, not haphazardly placed. But why?

Too busy to think deeply about it, he designated spots fitting each book type, and decided he’d figure out what he’d do with the puzzle later.

It was 6 pm by the time he’d finished the fourth row, and Patton had stopped by briefly to check on his best friend. He watched Patton’s merry expression drop some, concern seeping in as he took in his best friend’s progress.

“It’s almost 6:30, Virgil. Have you had another break yet?” He asked, watching his best friend continue moving back and forth. “Aren’t you tired? It’s been a little under 12 hours at this point, kiddo.. dontcha think it’s time to call it for the day? I mean, you’re already halfway there!”

“Library hours, at least Librarian work hours, don’t end till 9. And yeah, I guess I’m a little tired? But I’m in the zone, Pat. You know how I get when I’m in The Zone. If I stop now, who knows how long it’ll take me to finish sorting the other half?” Virgil rambled, half distracted and still trying to keep a vice grip on his concentration. “And besides, King Thomas said he’d be checking in on me tomorrow.”

“But Virge, you know he doesn’t expect you to have it done in one day. Thomas isn’t like that! That’s why he gave you a whole week to settle in, so you could move into the Library’s living quarters-which you haven’t done yet, might I add!- and get the library situated.” Patton stood stiffly, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Virgil was as stubborn as he himself was when his mind was made up.

“Look, Pat.. just, I’m sorry. You know I hate to worry you. I’ll try to stop at 10, go home and get some rest, and tomorrow i’ll move my stuff into my new home here. And, i’ll take a break from sorting for a few hours. Okay?” Virgil reached out, taking Patton’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He let Patton pull him into a tight hug, and didn’t resist when Patton briefly rubbed at his tense shoulders.

“Okay. Just, take care of yourself, Virge, okay? If I find out you stayed out an hour later than 11 pm, you’re gonna be in big trouble mister!” Patton giggled, lightening the mood the way he knew how.

“Yeah, yeah, hear ya loud and clear, Dad.” He watched Patton beam at the nickname, and moments later he watched Patton disappear behind the library’s main entrance door as his friend left him be, reassured. Virgil gave a heavy sigh, looking down guiltily at the stray book clutched in his hands.

“Let’s just hope ‘trouble’ just means a week of disappointed reprimands like last time…”

Hours later, Virgil’s head jerked up from his sorting as a father clock somewhere in the library dinged, signalling 10 o'clock. Biting his lip, he walked to the front doors and examined his options. He found he could lock the library from the inside, and pulled down the shutters. Briskly, he moved to cover each large window with their thick drapery, finding the adorning cloth thick enough to keep the low artificial light from seeping out. He dimmed the inner library lights so the library looked closed, but otherwise the building was still functioning from within.

Unless someone else had keys to the doors of the library, no one would know that the librarian was still stationed and working within. No one could see out, and more importantly, no one could see in. Which meant that Virgil was safe from Patton’s wrath if the Cook came to check on him, temporarily at least.

“Fuck, Patton’s gonna be so mad..” He muttered to himself, leaning against the librarian’s desk with a deep sigh. He’d briefly admired the beautiful desk earlier in the day, from the intricate carving to the beautiful dark mahogany. It would serve him well in the future, he hoped, after the thorough ‘grounding’ he knew he was going to get from Patton.

He shook his head to free his thoughts. There was no sense in getting in trouble and feeling guilty about it if he didn’t do anything to learn from in the first place. It was time to get back to work, and if he was lucky, he’d finish the main body of the library by the time his next shift started. Then, he could try and play it off, like nothing had ever happened, he’d just keep Patton out of the library till tomorrow to hide his finished work.

11 pm came and passed as he worked, and when he looked next at the clock, he found it was nearly 4 am. Tired but determined with only one row left, Virgil trekked on with a new vigor. All-nighters weren’t anything new to Virgil, not in the slightest. He was a creature of the night who rarely got a full night's rest to begin with. And sure, it was rare he worked his body so hard and for so long, but fixations were hard to break once in The Zone, it’s not like he could feel it past the hyperfixation haze.

Patton had often told him off for it when they were young, but as time passed they’d come to realize that’s just how Virgil was. Laying down did nothing to lure his mind to sleep on even the tiredest of nights if his insomnia had something to say about it. Better that he used the extra time to be productive, rather than spend 6 hours tossing and turning in bed, numbers and thoughts crowding in his head, and only getting up more restless than before. Patton often just tried to ease the aftermath if he could help it.

Sliding the last book into place was like sliding a final puzzle piece into a massive puzzle. The triumph of accomplishment had never felt so good, not like this.

Though, he quickly found himself aimless not 10 minutes later, seeking errors to fix and lost books to give a home. His brain wasn’t ready to let go of it’s fixation just yet, but as each second crawled by, he found himself recentering into the real world.

His body ached, and he was exhausted. His stomach gnawed at him weakly in hunger and his eyes watered from staring unblinkingly for so long. He eyed the chair behind the librarian’s desk, his desk now, he reminded himself.

“Screw it.. The Library’s sorted enough, I've got the rest of the week to make it perfect. A ten minute nap won’t hurt, right..?” He huffed to himself as he pulled the window curtains open one by one. Shuffling over to the main library doors, he unlocked them and raised the shutters. Soft morning sun rays fluttered into the connected windowed hallway just beyond the doors. He smiled at the tiny beauty of life, spotting the main library windows letting in the same comforting, dappled light.

Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, he plopped into the chair at his desk, finding it soft and comforting. Leaning forward, he rested his head on his arms, and under the fluttering morning light, succumbed to sleep’s gentle embrace.

Unknowing of the rude awakening that was soon to come.

Chapter two

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eveningstar1516 · 3 years

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Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 10

Rise of the Demon King Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously: Satan spent the rest of the night by his brother's side, cleaning his room and slowly, step by step, bringing back how his brother usually looked like. A glowing masterpiece, worthy of both envy and praise. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 10 - A Strong Bond (1616 words)

I was sitting at Lucifer's desk in his old room. After spending 3 sleepless nights in a row, Simeon helped me move into Luci’s old room which thankfully had some really good blinds to block out the celestial sun. The paperwork seemed as endless as it had in the Devildom only this time, it was the archangels' work. While they did their share and dealt with their department’s issues, the majority of the work still fell on my shoulders. I’m starting to understand why Lucifer felt this way towards paperwork. I put the pen down as I finished up the last of this week’s paperwork. Looking at the time, I realized I’ve been working for the past 9 hours straight. Getting up, I stretched my back and felt my joints popping. I filed the rest of the work and got dressed in something more comfortable. A simple dark blue turtleneck and white jeans. I made my way to the kitchen, having missed dinner, I wanted to get something to nibble on before bed. Upon entering, I found Raphael at the table with a cup of celestial berry tea. Noticing me, he looked up and waved me over.

“What are you still doing up Raph?” “I could ask the same. Here, we have some leftovers.” Raphael got up and got a plate from the fridge placing it in the microwave before getting another mug to pour more tea in. “Thank you” I took the mug with both hands and slowly sipped it. Relishing the warmth flowing down my throat. Taking the plate out of the microwave, Raphael set it in front of me before ruffling my hair and sitting back down. Laughing I retaliated back.

“H-hey! I’m not a child”

“You are compared to us. An overworked tired child that despite being in over their head, is doing an amazing job at keeping us running.”

“Thank you. It is hard though. I have no idea how Lu did it, still does it.”

“Yeah, Sammy would work himself to exhaustion. You actually remind me of him. Your determination to get the work done flawlessly and your dedication. Are you sure you’re not supposed to be an angel?”

“Heh, thanks Raph, but you and I both know I’m only doing this to go back.”

“Do you have to though? You’ve been here for a full millenia now. Don’t you want to stay?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely up here and you guys are the absolute best, but I don’t belong here. My heart is in the Devildom with the brothers.”

“Why though? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not criticizing, but why would you rather stay in the Devildom than here?”

“I guess the Devildom just grew on me. The Devildom, and the bro’s. I like the way Belphie looks when he’s sleeping peacefully, his head on my lap. I admire the way Beel protects his twin and his brothers, sacrificing everything to make them happy. I envy the way Asmo can change a tense atmosphere into an up beat one effectively dissolving any tension. I find myself thinking about Satan and the late reading nights we’d have and the discussions about cats and our books. I wish I had as much passion as Levi does with his games and shows. Confidently ranting on about them without caring what others think. I’m amazed by Mammon’s love for his family. Everything he sacrifices to make them happy. He even puts himself in the line of fire and would redirect the attention to himself by doing something stupid to distract them from their suffering. I love Lucifer. I love how much he cares for his family. All he sacrifices, all he endures, all the pain he hides from them to keep them happy. To keep us all happy... I miss them.” Tears started pooling as I reminisced about the brothers. Raphael leaned over and pulled me into a shoulder hug.

“I know you do. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure they miss you too. It sounds like you created a strong bond with them. I’m sure you’ll get to see them soon.”

“I hope so. Thanks Raph.”

“Anytime Y/N. I think you should get some rest. Don’t forget we have a-”

“Y/N, Raphael.” Michael walked into the kitchen. He had a look that closely resembled contentment and relief.

“Michael, how can we help you?”

“You should be in bed Raphael. Father wants to see Y/N. Now.” Raphael and I exchanged a look. I finished off my tea and hugged Raphael goodnight before heading to my room to change into something more appropriate for my meeting with God. 5 minutes later and we were on our way to the palace. In the Devildom After they lost Y/N The day they lost Y/N was the hardest day in their life. After they got back to the house, they both went straight to their room, not talking with anyone. Behind the relative safety of a locked door, Belphie crawled into bed and tried to escape reality. Beel sat on his bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t try to sleep, he didn’t go to the kitchen, he didn’t move. He just sat there, the pain numbing him. They stayed like this for a while before Belphie started tossing and turning, his slumber becoming a restless nightmare. Beel got up and changed into something more comfortable. He moved Belphie over and got under the covers, pulling his twin into his chest. Belphie felt himself being pulled into his older brother's embrace and leaned into it, grief evident on both their faces as they both fell into a dreamless sleep.

The days following weren’t much better. Beel wouldn’t eat as much, practically starving himself and he was rarely found. When any of the brothers would go looking for him, they’d either find him in his room or the gym. Belphie wouldn’t wake up at all anymore. He’d go weeks sleeping, if you could call nightmare filled nights sleeping. He wasn’t any better awake either. When he did wake to attend school or fulfill an order from the king, you could practically see the waves of pure wrath and resentment surrounding him, only dispersing when Beel was close by. There were days where neither of them would leave their room, both just staring into space, little words exchanged. Although they didn’t need to. Their shared bond conveyed more than words could express. The pain amplified by this bond. When Belphie was awake, the twins would practically be inseparable. Neither going anywhere without the other.

This went on for a few months. One day after being rudely awakened from a nap, Belphie found himself wandering the house for a quiet place to sleep. Normally, he’d just head up to the attic, however today, he found his feet leading him down to the catacombs, towards Lilith’s, now Y/N’s casket. He doesn’t know what brought him here, but as soon as he saw it, his eyes started watering. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the memories he has assorted with the casket or if it was because Beel was sitting next to it, leaning his back against the side, crying. Sensing Belphie’s presence, Beel opened his eyes and turned his head towards his twin. He cracked a small, tired smile as Belphie moved to sit next to him. This was the first time Belphegor had seen Beelzebub cry since Y/N’s execution. Sitting next to his brother, he leaned into the larger demon letting his own tears flow. Their hands gravitated toward each other as they took hold. For the first time since the trial, they sat together in silence; tears flowing down their cheeks. Eventually, they fell asleep like this, holding each other's hands. It was Levi that found them. The 3rd born having come down to place the gift he got for Y/N from the convention on the casket. He spotted the twins sleeping with tear stained cheeks and left. He came back down a few minutes later with a blanket and a few snacks for when they awoke. Not wanting to disturb them, he set down the Ruri-chan kit and carefully draped the blanket over them. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was envious of the twins connection and devotion to be there for each other. Then he remembered about their connection. He knows the twins can feel what the other is feeling. He realized that they were probably taking this the hardest, their shared connection amplifying the pain. His envy for them left, replaced by something resembling pity. He left them in the catacombs and retreated to his room. The twins awoke at the same time. They took notice of the blanket draped over them and the fruit tray placed next to them. They exchanged a smile as Beel leaned over to grab the tray, offering the fruit to Belphie first. Belphegor grabbed an apple slice and held it towards Beel. Beel opened his mouth accepting the slice and repeated the action with a clementine. They continued like this, feeding each other until the tray was empty. They stayed down in the catacombs for a little while longer, their bond conveying the vows they made to each other. They’d never leave each other's side. Always be there for their other half.

After that day, Beel would take responsibility for waking the youngest whenever he slept for too long and Belphie took responsibility for making sure Beel ate whenever he was awake. From that day forward, you’d never find one twin without the other close by. Their relationship strengthened, one relying on the other. Always being there when needed.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

She [6]

Warnings: non-consent sex (series); masturbation

This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.

Chapter Summary: Steve starts to plan ahead.

Note: Yesterday was pretty rough personally but I’m working on my writers list at the moment so that should be out next week! As for my own writing, I’m not sure. But thanks to everyone who is reading along

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Steve

Steve didn’t get home until well past midnight. He’d lost her after the bar and she beat him back to her apartment. She was still awake when he got there. Wide awake. Restless. She sat on the couch and fiddled with her phone, then the remote, then fidgeted again. She was shaken by her little foray into the underbelly of the city.

He was almost amused to think of it. How she must have felt. Was she mortified? Intrigued? Maybe both. Like him. When he realised what she had been searching for, what the woman she’d been talking to was, he was surprised and even more interested.

When she flashed her press pass, he realised why. This was her new story. Had she so quickly forgotten about him? Let him fall in the gutter as she chases down her next prey.

Home, alone at last, he found himself in a fitful sleep. He laid atop his covers and tossed and turned. In the span of a couple days, his life had so completely changed. He was startled to realise he had so easily forgotten about his work. She was the crux of his life now. The very centerpiece of his new existence.

When he finally dozed off, he woke only shortly after. It was still dark and he was uncomfortable as he laid flat on his back. He was hard. Painfully hard. As his pajama bottoms rubbed against his cock, he flinched. He sat up and took a breath. He couldn’t.

He closed his eyes and he saw her. Sitting on the subway, sprawled across her couch, oblivious in the depths of her deep porcelain tub. He fell back and hissed. His hand twitched beside his hip.

“It’s okay to be lonely.” She whispered in his ear. “Natural, even.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and his breath shuddered.

“I’m the only who sees you for what you are.” He felt her breath, as gentle as the breeze. “You showed me that day who you truly are. You’re human, like all of us… imperfect.”

He shook his head and felt the tickled along his pelvis. Felt the elastic of his pants lift and the soft touch of flesh against his arousal. Fingers wrapped around him and began to stroke up and down. Tortuously deliberate. He bared his teeth as the motion carried.

“No…” He murmured. “No… it’s…”

He bit his lip as her hand sped up. As his muscles tensed and all the warmth in his body gathered at that one spot. He felt it mounting within him. The years of pent up resent and wanting. Those things he never let himself feel. His cock hurt so much. She worked him even faster.

He came and cried out in surprise. It turned to a growl as the strokes slowed and he was eased through the waves of sheer pleasure. He was panting as he opened his eyes. He was alone. It was his hand around his cock, his cum cooling along his fingers. He pushed his head into the pillow and groaned.

He was tired, then. Exhausted. But he had to clean himself up and forget about this. Forget about her.

He sat up and held out his wet hand. He stood and used his elbow to flip the switch on his way into the bathroom. He passed the broken sink and went to the tub. He turned the faucet and shoved his hand under the warm water. He stopped the tap and shook the droplets off his hands as he stood.

He turned and looked in the mirror. He was flushed and his irises were pinpoints. He didn’t look like himself. He grabbed the hand towel from the bar that hung on the front of the counter. He dried his hand, his pajamas damp. He shimmied out of them and let them gather on the floor. He shed his shirt and stood naked, his eyes roved the thick muscles of his chest and arms.

“You know what I am,” He said. “You will know what I am.”

🖋️

The basement was the only part of the townhouse that remained unfinished. Steve hadn’t been bothered, he’d intended it for storage and it worked well for that. But now he needed all this shit cleared out and he had a lot to do after that.

He resigned himself to a day by himself. He’d let her be as he started his work. And he knew if he kept on as he was, something might fall out of place. Something within him. He needed to focus on something else, just for a little bit. A day wasn’t very long at all.

The leftover drywall could be used still, the insulation, too. He’d have to grab some of the thick padding he’d seen at the hardware store. Two layers to be safe. That old washroom would have to be restored. The toilet was forgotten; the tank crooked and the lid totally gone. It barely flushed when he pushed on the handle. He’d make do.

After all that, he’d have even more to worry about. A bed would fit there where the boxes were and he could put a hook in the ceiling there along the beam. He wove between the stacks of dusty possessions. It would look bigger once he did away with the clutter. More than enough room.

He went and rented a unit downtown to store all his shit. He barely avoided the press as he pulled out but lost them soon after. He made several trips back and forth. It was afternoon when he started sweeping. He cleaned up the grim basement as best he could. It was almost evening then.

He sat on the steps and took a breath. He looked up the stairs and back down. He’d need a thicker door, with a lock. That would need to be soundproofed too. Shit, he had to figure out a way to get everything he needed inside without drawing the attention of the cameras.

He glanced around as he stood and dusted off his hands. He left the broom against the wall and went upstairs. He washed his hands and pulled on his hoodie. It was dark. He cut through the back as had become his habit and headed down the little pathway that skirted the row of yards.

It would be easier to drive himself but the press knew his car by sight. He wasn’t that stupid. Besides, a man on the subway, hardly suspicious. She’d already be home or so he hoped. At her stop, he slowed his gait. As he came up on the street, he took a deep gulp of the night air.

He scaled the escape to his usual spot. Her window was dark but for the flicker of her television. She laid in its glare and stretched her arms over the end of the couch as her feet rested on the other. She had fallen asleep. He could tell by the even measure of her breath as he listened through the wall and past the buzz of the small speakers.

His hand slipped beneath the pane and he looked down at it. The window was open just a little to let in the cool breeze. He lifted his head and turned his palm up to grasp the wooden frame. He pushed just a bit and cringed at the grind. He stopped and watched her. She didn’t move.

He continued until the window was open to its limit. He stooped through. He was almost too big for it. He wiggled onto the other side and let himself down onto the floor carefully. He nearly kicked over the shelf just beside the window. He stood and glanced around the apartment. It smelled like roses, the way she had when he’d welcomed her into his house.

He crept closer, pausing after each step to listen. Her snores were soft and beckoned to him. He stopped just behind the back of the couch and looked down at her in the wavering shadows cast by the television. She wore a long tee shirt that read GAP across the chest; a small hole along the neckline and another near her thigh. He could see a hint of her panties just below.

He winced as he felt the blood rush from his head and he felt himself growing hard. He shook and gripped the couch. He wanted to just do it. He could. Easily. A hand over her mouth. She’d be terrified and she would know who it was she had crossed. She would realise what she’d done to him and he would make her know it was all her fault.

She turned onto her side suddenly and he ducked behind the couch. He heard a sniff as her snores quieted and she grumbled. He heard her moving around and the tv flicked off as her shadow stood on the other side of the sofa. He held his breath as her footsteps stumbled away into the bedroom. She didn’t even notice the noise of the city as it blew in through the open window.

He was too afraid to move. Ten minutes before he found his strength. Her snores resumed in the next room and he kept on all fours as he crawled around the couch. He followed her even heartbeat to her room and her arm hung down as she slept on her stomach. The curve of her ass was limned in moonlight through the space between her patched curtains.

He neared the bed and just watched her. Sat on the floor in a trance. So clueless, so weak to him. He got to his feet and waited. She didn’t wake. He smirked and neared. Still, she slept. He grabbed the handle of the night table just beside her bed and slowly forced it open. Pens, old cards, nothing spectacular. Disappointed, he closed it and inched away.

He backed away, stopped by her boxy dresser. He looked down and then back at her. He leaned on the side of the wood and carefully jostled opened the top drawer. A pair of satiny panties he shoved in his pocket without thinking and he felt deeper down. His fingers latched onto something firm and long.

He angled the large dildo out of her dresser and raised a brow. He’d seen these things online thanks to Sam’s dumb jokes. A small arm jutted out and curved parallel to the rest of the toy. There was a small button embedded beneath the silicone. He turned it in his hand and then tucked it into his belt and pulled his hoodie down over the oblong bulge.

He shut the door and retreated entirely. That would be the first piece of his puzzle. A token to know her by until he could return it to her. The thought made him shiver as he made his way back to the window. He paused and took one last glance.

He wanted to stay, wanted to go back in her room and wake her with the gentle buzz of the toy. Just between her legs, his hand between her shoulder blades as he held her down. No, don’t look at me. Just feel me. He took a sharp breath and kicked his leg over the window sill.

“Soon,” He whispered. “I promise.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #she #series #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #au #marvel #mcu #captain america

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cha-lyn · 4 years

Text

Milk & Eggs - Thirteen

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 2434

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings: fluff and some angst. tiny baby farm life.

A/N: It’s been a minute..... 🙃 thanks for sticking around guys.. As always I love the feedback/likes/reblogs 💛 i have the next the next two chapters done so it won’t be another 6 months lol

Master List // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

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The next morning you wake up naked and alone, much to your disappointment. You shiver and pull the single sheet around you. You inhale his smell as you nuzzle into the pillow. On Bucky’s pillow is a sticky note.

Choring. Be back soon.

You grin, curling up further and deciding to wait for your man in the warm bed instead of venturing out into the cold. Of course, you fall back into a light sleep, the shifting of the bed stirring you awake.

“Good morning beautiful,” Bucky smiled down at you, pieces of his hair falling down around his face.

“Join me,” you yawn, lifting the sheet and waving him in.

Bucky shakes his head. “If I get in there who will eat the huge breakfast I just made?” He kisses your forehead and gets up going to his chest of drawers. He tosses you a blue long sleeve t-shirt and starts back downstairs. “Hurry up, it’s gettin’ cold.”

Bucky had indeed prepared a feast. Bacon, pancakes for him, waffles for you, orange juice, hash browns and scrambled eggs. You sit down across from a grinning Bucky, crossing your bare legs, wearing only his t-shirt and your panties.

“That shirt looks good on you.”

You grab a piece of bacon and grin. “I agree. You might just never see it again.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Oh, I almost forgot, the livestock fair is next weekend. You still wanna go with me?” You nod, mouth already full of waffle. Bucky grins, stuffing his face, too.

As you rinsed the last glass, Bucky traps you in his arms, “Do you have to go bake now?” He sounded pitiful.

“I have a few minutes before I have to leave… Why what were you wanting to do?” You couldn’t suppress your smirk. Bucky’s rough hands slip under his own soft t-shirt. “Stop teasing,” you whine.

He scoffs, “You’re the one the that’s teasing. Skippin’ around my house in nothin’ but my t-shirt. Not even any pants on,” his lips brushing your ear, making you shiver.

You turn to face him, “Well. What do you want to do about it Buck?”

He snaps your hips towards him, “Just take you back upstairs. Ya know.. Help you change outta this.”

“Yes, that does sound like a two person job. What are you waiting for then?”

Bucky wasted no time dropping his hands to your thighs to pick you up and carry you straight back to his bedroom, giggling and kissing the whole way up.

The next week went by fast. You were busy at the bakery and Bucky was busy training the already hired Sam at the ranch. There had been some logistical issues--Sam accepted the job, but was struggling to find a place to live. You talked Bucky into letting Sam stay at his house while he looked. The pros of that were that Sam is absolutely hilarious and a great cook. The con was that you didn’t get to walk around with no pants on anymore.

Friday rolled around and as you rolled out fondant at the shop, the front bell rang. You peek around the corner, eyes falling on a gorgeous man covered in dirt.

“Hey slick.”

“Hey stranger.”

“Stranger? You saw me this morning.” Bucky leaned on the counter.

You leaned in to meet him, giving him a kiss, smelling the faint smells of dirt, sweat and coffee. “Was that this morning? Feels like days ago.”

“We didn’t get much sleep last night. Which is why,” out of nowhere a coffee cup appears, “I thought I’d stop by and bring you some caffeine.” Your face almost broke from smiling so hard. “And to remind you that we have to leave at 7am tomorrow.”

Your face fell and your eyes narrowed.

“You don't have to go, doll, really,” he reasoned. “It’s just a bunch of stinky animals.”

“Ugh, no I want to, I just want to go later,” you whine as you put a bear claw in a bag for him.

Bucky laughed as he stood to leave. “Sorry, no can do. We will stop for coffee on the way, though, promise. Bring your chorin’ boots when you come tonight, auctions tend to be muddy places.”

“Look at you assuming I’m coming over tonight.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Damn, lack of sleep makes you sassy. Don’t worry, I'll sleep on the couch-- let you get plenty of sleep tonight to make up for the last.” You scoff at him as he wiggles his eyes, hand already in the togo bag. “Thank you! See you tonight,” he leaves with a wink.

Bucky has you up at 6:30 am the next morning. You're dressed and upright, but not really awake. Sam was up, cracking jokes at the ungodly hour and trying to break your scowl as he flipped pancakes and scrambled his eggs. You and Bucky don’t actually leave until 7:08 because of your sluggish ass. (You’d forgotten where you left your boots and then misplaced your rain jacket. Miraculously, Bucky fought the scowl threatening to invade his face because you’re fuckin’ cute when you’ve just woke up.) Despite your moody slowness, Bucky kindly lets you sleep most of the way, waking you up when you're one town away.

“Hey wake up doll,” he reaches over, gently rubbing your shoulder. “C’mon, wake up. We’re close.” As you rub the sleep out of your eyes, Bucky pulls into the drive through of the only Starbucks in a hundred mile area. “You want your usual?”

You nod, “And an extra shot please.”

Bucky chuckles, ordering your drink perfectly, “I’ve never seen someone sleep so soundly on the road.”

You smile, “I trained myself to sleep in almost every car ride. I used to get really car sick as a kid. Road trips sucked, so I just slept through it. Still do.”

Bucky smiles, handing you a hot coffee and immediately sipping his. “So, the game plan for today is to buy three goats--one billy and two does.”

“Mmm and a dog.” Bucky raises his eyebrows as he merges back onto the interstate. “You said you might get one to help the herd or something.”

“Yeah, but now I have Sam to help with that.”

You roll your eyes. “If you get a dog maybe I’ll come over more,” you joke.

Bucky laughed, “You’re over all the time, slick. You come over anymore and you’ll have to move in.”

You choked on your sip, hot coffee burning your nose. Bucky’s eyes cut your way, watching you pick at your fingers.

“Uh… That was a joke…” he says unconvincingly.

You cough out a laugh, just as unconvincing. “Oh good. ‘Cause we barely know each other…”

“What do you mean?”

You blink at him, “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other Buck. Like a lot.”

“What better way to get to know each other than living together? Hypothetically,” Bucky shrugged.

You looked at him incredulously. “Whoa. Bucky. We are nowhere near that step,” you scoff.

“I’m just saying hypothetically, but whatever. We’re almost there. To the auction… not where ever you say we aren’t,” he said, voice clipped as he stared straight ahead.

You sense the shift in the truck. You’re not sure how to recover from this, but you don’t have to just yet.

Minutes later, you see a field full of pickups and trailers and behind them, tents and pens and more farm animals in one place than you’d ever seen. Bucky pulls into the field, driving the aisles until he finds a spot.

He turns off the engine. Sighing as he takes off his ball cap, running his hand through his hair and replacing the hat. “Ready?” He shoots you a half smile.

You nod returning it as best you can, “Let’s go find some goats.” But no fuckin’ dogs, you scold yourself mentally.

Turns out you love livestock auctions. Bucky loves them more, of course. He’s giddy at the sight of the first four-legged creature he sees. The awkwardness is forgotten quickly and soon it’s all smiles and rows of baby goats. One in particular that caught your eye.

“He was so cute though! I think you should get him.”

“Well, yes, but you’ve said that about all of them, slick. We’ve got to look around--get the best deal. This is an investment,” he said, finding your hand and pulling you on. The two of you patrolled the aisles, looking for the best goats the place had to offer. You passed several tents with pens of hunting and herding dogs and though every fiber of you wanted to stop and oogle over them, you refrained. You hoped Bucky didn’t notice.

After a while your stomach growled, “Stay here a minute doll.” Bucky disappeared into the crowd leaving you to pet a brown and white speckled kid, who bleats at you everytime you let up. You coo at him and rub the little nubs where his horns are barely sticking out.

Minutes later, it had begun to mist and Bucky returned with a basket of fries and two hot dogs. You surrender the baby goat back to the pen and find some hand sanitizer.

“Food! You read my mind,” you grab a crunchy fry.

“Actually, I just heard your stomach,” Bucky notes, chuckling and motioning you under a makeshift pavilion, picnic tables lining the inside of it. The two of you sit across from each other sharing the fries and eating in content silence. Bucky watches you as you happily munch on the fries. Your hair’s adorned with dew beads, some dropping unbothered onto your rain jacket.

You catch him staring and grin, fry midway to your mouth.

He grins back. “Do you like it?” he asks, looking out to the acres of animals.

“It’s awesome. I think I’m a goat person now.”

Bucky chuckles and finishes his hot dog. Once you’ve finished yours the two of you do a couple more rounds, Bucky finally choosing the goats he wanted to take home. The goats are paid for and led back to the truck bed where you help Bucky load them into travel crates. They bleat affectionately at you and Bucky.

“They’re so cute,” you sat rubbing one on the forehead. It nuzzles into your hand.

“Yeah, they are, aren’t they?” Bucky closed the crates. “You ready to go?”

“Of course. I mean you’re in charge. I’m just tagging along.”

Bucky nods. “Let’s go then.” You immediately stretch out when you get in the truck and he chuckles. “Gonna take another nap, slick?”

Your eyes roll. “Now I won't, just to prove a point,” you grin over at him. It’s just eye contact at first, and then it’s not. Then it’s Bucky leaning in and you’re meeting him halfway. His hand creeps up to caress your cheek as he kisses you. He pulls you closer, you bite his lip just hard enough to earn a grin so big it breaks the kiss.

“You’re something else, Y/N. Truly.”

“Not me,” you blush.

His eyes searching yours, looking for an answer. “You really think we barely know each other?”

You sigh, shaking your head, “No, I just--It’s just early in this.” You motion between the two of you. “It’s still new.”

Bucky nods slowly, pulling at a string on his jacket, “Doesn’t mean I don’t know you though. Or that you don’t know me. You know things about me nobody else knows…” he absent mindedly scratched at his left arm, pausing as the rain picked up outside, tapping away at the roof of the truck. “I know your Starbucks order, for hot days and for cold days. I know your favorite wine. I know you hate baking those mini eclairs but you love eating them.”

You’re blushing deeply now. “It’s just really soon, Buck. I don’t know if we’re ready for that.”

Bucky sighs, starting the truck, but leaving it in park. “We might not be completely ready, but I mean… we’re on the way right?”

You bite your lip, blinking at his question. “I don’t--I can’t see the future…” You trial off, extremely unsure of what to say.

Bucky somewhat aggressively shifts into reverse and pulls out of the spot. It’s quiet and tense as he pulls out onto the main road. Neither of you speak for the first 30 or so minutes and you can feel the tension building. You dread this kind of confrontation.

“If you can’t see a future with me, why do you want to get a dog with me? What are we even doing?”

You scoff, which irritates Bucky, “Maybe the dog thing was an ill-timed joke… I never said I don’t see a future with you, I just said I can’t see it. Like right now. I like you a lot, but this also feels like it’s gone so fast and I--”

“I didn’t think you had a problem with how fast it’s going?” Bucky counters.

“I never said I did, Buck.” You rub your temples. You recognize the scenery around you, meaning you’re getting close to not being trapped in his truck. “I just like where we are right now. I don’t wanna overthink what we have.”

Bucky is silent for a long while, until he turns into his driveway. “Can you see it changing one day?”

“Bucky…. Why the sudden need for future plans?”

Bucky puts the truck in park as his fingers beat on the steering wheel. “I think about that kinda stuff I guess. Wanna know what we are doing in this… relationship.”

“I thought we did.”

“We do… I just-”

“It’s fine. I need to get home.I haven’t seen Grams all weekend and we gotta get ready for the week.” You hop out of his truck, digging in your purse for your keys.

He rounds the truck as you find them. “Are you mad at me?”

You look up at him, blue eyes wide with concern. “No.. no. It’s just a lot to think about.” You reach up to fidget with the collar of his shirt, just an excuse to touch him really. It seems to diffuse some of the tension between you.

Bucky looks down at you, “Okay...”

A small smile breaks. “Well, why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow? Grams would like to see you.”

Even though it’s not quite what he wanted to hear, Bucky’s eyes brightened. “Tell me when and I’ll be there.” Though you kissed him goodbye slowly, some tension still lingered in his chest. He waved as you pulled away, missing you the moment you were out of sight.

Taglist: Much love to y’all 😘

@notatallfriendly @thechaoticargonaut @booktease21 @iamwarrenspeace @titty-teetee @harryngtonewithyourshit

@mcueveryday @peakyrogers @thedepressedsponge

Everything- @thefridgeismybestie @basically-introverted

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x poc #yeehaaw #MCU fanfiction #mcu au #cowboy!bucky #b.b.#bucky barnes is a farmer

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halo-jpeg · 3 years

Text

Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 2

Richie's phone buzzed. Instantaneously, his phone was out of his pocket and into his hand, and he opted to check the message rather than watch the sidewalk ahead of him. A grin split his face and he caught the inside of his cheek between his teeth, biting down on that instead of letting out an excited little squeal. The text was from an unknown number and read,

Hi, it's Bill from the coffee shop. Can I get the party information?

With another three guests set to come, Richie was all the more anticipated. That brought the list of guests up to an even 40. With flying thumbs, Richie tapped back his answer consisting of his address and the time the party was starting before saving the number into his phone underneath the name 'Stuttering Bill'. The phone was slid back into the pocket of his jeans. A stiff breeze whisked past him, and he almost felt cold enough to shiver, pulling the edges of his arcade-floor print button-up closer together in an attempt to shield himself. The sky overhead was a pale grey, promising rain soon to come and snow, too, in no time at all. It was nearly November, and while the snow usually fell heaviest from December to January it was no rare occurrence for it to make an early appearance just for a week or two. Again, Richie's phone buzzed.

Thanks. Any snacks we should bring?

For a moment, Richie pondered. He had a perfect reply locked and loaded but didn't know if it was too soon for this kind of joke. What he wanted to say was 'only yourself, hot stuff' and maybe he'd throw in a 'and the short one too' but he quickly decided he didn't want these three random people to hate his guts too quickly on the off chance that they weren't okay with guy-on-guy flirtation like that. Instead of one of the many cruddy pickup lines he has ready to go he says,

No pressure, unless you want something for yourself.

As Richie puts his phone away yet again he found himself right where he wanted to be, the lovely little family-run grocery store known as 'Hanlon Grocer'. The people inside actually tolerated him and took the time out of their days to run 50 bags of Doritos through the checkout, when a few other places he'd been to for party snack stocking had actually turned him away- it also helped that the owners son was one of his best pals. He stepped through the door, running a quick hand through his slightly wind-swept hair. Almost immediately he was greeted by the young lady currently working the register, the younger cousin of Mike Hanlon herself, Jennifer Hanlon.

"Morning, Richie," She greeted with a casual wave, attention temporarily stolen from the book she had open in front of her, "Mike tells me you're having a party tonight. I'm guessing that's why you're here?"

"You're a cunning one, Jenny!" Richie leaned against the counter, his radiant smile making him look something close to insane, "I have about an entire aisle of soda to buy from you!" Jenny smiled back at him, plucking her bookmark from the counter and slipping it into place. She closed the book, sliding it aside, and Richie caught sight of the cover- The Prestige, by Christopher Priest. It was a new one that Mike had been reading a few weeks back.

"Well, Mike's somewhere here. If you flash him that million-dollar smile maybe you can get him to help you carry some things." Richie clapped his hands together, and took a step back.

"Thanks a billion, Jen- I'll see you shortly, I'm sure. Get those scanning hands ready, I'll have quite the haul," Richie took a few more steps backwards, still talking to Jenny as he made his way further into the store, "I really hope you don't mind me always making such a big fuss!"

"Pshh," Jenny waves a hand, "You're our top customer, Rich, I could never mind!" And, with that, Richie spun on his heel, leaving Jenny to return to her fine literature so he could go pack his arms full of snacks, too many to carry for one man alone. Lucky for him, just as he was about to disappear into an aisle in search of his friend, Mike stepped out into view from nearer the produce section, catching Richie's eye.

"Sure an begorahh, me ole' laddie Mr. O'Hanlon, sor!" Richie danced along the linoleum tiles, trying both to stomp and float at the same time, graceful and intimidating as his Irish Cop, "Doh ye mind lendin' me a hand 'er two?" At once Mike set aside the crate of cans he'd been carrying, meaning to restock some shelves- in Mike's mind, that could wait.

"Morning, Richie," He greeted as he stepped away from the crate, instead beckoning with his head for Richie to follow him towards the primary snacks isle, "Putting off shopping til last minute again? Do I have to tell you it might be a little more wise to get this done a week or so in advance in case you forget anything?" Mike glances over at Richie, his eyes alight with a teasing mischief as they turn left into isle 6.

"No, my good sir, you do not." Richie clasps his hands together as he speaks, leaning over just slightly to rake his gaze across the bottom shelf. One bag after the other, he scanned in search of just what he wanted and- aha, there it was, the barbecue chips, and, more precisely, the Lays barbecue chips.

"I called in for an extra order of those just for you," Mike gave Richie's shoulder a gentle push, which Richie returned with one of his own.

"Oh, you!" He was now the Southern Belle, a hand spread on his chest as he batted his eyelashes, "You really shouldn't have, Sir Michael, you are just too kind!" With that, the charade was abandoned and Richie dropped to his knees, none-too-graciously jamming his absurdly long arms onto either side of the rows of barbecue chips. As if they were his bride, he scooped them up, holding them with as much care as he would if this metaphor were true.

"Do you... want a basket?" Mike was snickering to himself, one hand lifted to hover over his toothy grin, the other planted on his hip. "Let me get you a basket." Richie was left alone for a second as Mike hurried away. Right, a basket- that... that could have been smart, Richie thinks to himself, but he isn't always too smart. Case in point, instead of recognizing that his arms were way too full and he couldn't carry anything else, he got distracted by the rows of chocolate bars and hobbled his way over there. A box of Atomic Fireballs sat in the midst of the candy, basically begging him to buy them. Against his better judgement, he tried to free up one hand enough to snag the candy.

-----

Eddie's gaze darted back and forth between two different cereal boxes- the classic Corn Flakes or the new Special K. One had less sugar, the other less calories, and he would be getting about the same amount of cereal for the same price but- All of a sudden, Eddie's careful thinking is interrupted by a crash, and he leaps nearly three feet in the air at the sound of it, letting out a horribly embarrassing sound like a quite shriek. Both cereal boxes went to the ground and he suddenly didn't care about them any more. A sound like that couldn't possibly mean anything good, could it? Someone might have been hurt and he has the equipment with him right now to help them on some minimal scale. Eddie hurried forwards, exiting his aisle and heading straight for the source of the noise in aisle six. As he sped around the corner, he came skidding to a halt for just a moment before pushing forwards once more and stopping at the side of someone covered in a mixture of chip bags, candies, and metal.

"Shit, are you okay? Anything hurt? Here, let me help-" A little metal rack in the center of the aisle had been pulled over onto the poor guy trapped underneath, one rung jabbed against his ribs in a manner that couldn't possibly be comfortable. Eddie fastened his hands around the rack as best he could, pulling it off and away as quickly as possible. As soon as it was pushed aside his full attention went back to whoever had been trapped underneath, and a gust of familiarity punched him right in the stomach. The only one Eddie had ever seen wearing those wretched thick-framed glasses had been the coffee guy from the night before. Eddie brushed away the pang of annoyance in his gut and helped brush bags of barbecue chips aside to pull the barista into a sitting position.

"Ah, thanks," The guy said with a chuckle, pushing his glasses up and reaching for one of the bags of chips. He frowned as he picked it up, suspecting it for damage and most likely discovering that at least half of it's contents were crushed, "My bad for the trouble, my long-ass limbs sometimes get the-" He paused, finally looking up at Eddie, and then his own eyes lit with recognition and he was grinning like a maniac. "Hey, I know you! New guy! Eds!" Eddie fought the urge to roll his eyes at the nickname, brushing right past him.

"Are you okay? Hurt at all? Do I need to call a doctor? When did you last get a tetanus shot? Are you bleeding anywhere?" Eddie was already moving to unzip his trusty fanny pack, knowing he had butterfly tape, disinfectant, bandages and all things alike just inside. "How are you feeling? Dizzy at all? You might have hit your head or something and-"

"Hey, calm down there buddy, you'll give yourself an aneurysm if you don't stop and take a breath!" The barista was chuckling again, hands held out in front of him in some attempt to calm Eddie's already-racing thoughts. Worst case scenarios sprung up left and right, the current most prominent possibility being that this goof could get some sort of instantaneous infection that would transform him into a zombie, "I'm just fine, actually. I've taken quite a few tumbles in my day and this is nothin'. If anything, I'd be more concerned for the chips!" He went to climb to his feet, and Eddie was almost reluctant to allow that. Maybe he'd throw out his back or tear a muscle or fall again- he shoved the thoughts away and instead just stood as well. "Thanks, Eds," The guy said with a big glowing grin and a shrug of his shoulders, one hand rising to scratch at the back of his neck, "If I'd known you were here to save the day I'd have fallen sooner! My knight in shining armor!"

"Don't-" Eddie began, biting his tongue and then finally snapping out, "Don't call me Eds! And for the love of God, don't go getting yourself hurt just for the hell of it. That's stupid. You could have broken something!" Crossing his arms over his chest, Eddie huffed out a breath, shaking his head out of disapproval. Eddie's damsel in distress opened his mouth to speak when a new voice sliced in and someone Eddie hadn't seen before hurried around the corner with concern etched into his every feature and a shopping basket slung over one arm.

"Richie, what- What happened? You okay?" He approached quickly, glancing briefly at Eddie before his full attention went to Mr. Damsel- or, otherwise, Richie. Richie shot two thumbs ups.

"I'm great, Mikey, my good pal Eddie came to help me up."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mikey set down his basket and turned to Eddie instead, extending a hand and a friendly smile, "I'm Mike. I didn't mean to intrude if you two were talking, but Rich tends to get himself hurt more than the average human male. It's second nature now to fret over him." Richie let out a scoff, adopting a dramatic frown and upturning his nose.

"It's really hard to control my noodle arms, thank you very much! And, come on, did you really expect me not to go for the Fireballs? The heart wants what it wants, doesn't it?" Eddie let Mike's hand go and, feeling a little bit awkward now to be talking to these near-strangers, said,

"Well, it's nice to meet you. I, uh... I guess I'll be seeing you again later tonight at the party," Eddie tried to smile, "Don't go knocking over any more display shelves." Eddie was just about to turn and hurry away, just about to get out of the social interaction when none other than Bill appeared down the hall, a grocery basket hanging off his arm, obviously curious and with Stan at his side. Bill spotted Richie, Richie spotted Bill, and then the latter was approaching with his Big Bill smile.

"Oh, hey!" He greeted, nodding cheerfully in Mike's direction as well, "It's you again! I juh-just wanted to thank you fuh-for the invitation to your party." The best thing Eddie thinks Bill has ever done is draw the attention away from him. He has a tendency to do that- most eyes shift right for him when he enters the room, as if everyone sense that he is the leader. That's alright, in Eddie's opinion, because he could never be a leader and is much more content to be a follower hiding in the shadows. Now, both Richie, Mike and Bill are locked in conversation, much more friendly and natural than the one Eddie had been caught in moments earlier. Stan takes a few subtle steps towards his much shorter friend, leaning over a little to hiss out a whisper,

"They'll be talking for hours, I can already tell." Eddie found himself smiling and nodding right along. Stan was absolutely correct. The chemistry that was already brewing was that foretelling of three great friends. "Interested in coming with me to look at the bakery? I can smell it from here and I want to see what they have." Eddie only smiles wider. He nods his head without seconds thought, only trying for a second or two to catch Bill's gaze before just giving up and following Stan out of the hallway and towards the back of the building. Matching him step for step, the two picked up a much more comfortable, much more pleasant conversation that Eddie actually enjoyed having. "The curly haired one sure talks a lot. What are the chances that we're seeing him again today? How many grocery stores are there in Portland?"

"Apparently just the one. Some higher power must hate me to make me run into him again." Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically, and Stan let out a snicker, gently bumping his elbow into Eddie's and quirking a brow. In return, Eddie's own brows bent down into a questioning furrow. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face or something?" One hand lifted to wipe at his cheek but it came back clean. Stan just shook his head, a small smile ghosting his lips as they arrived at the bakery. "Oh sweet, sesame bagels!" His attention redirected, Eddie dismissed the odd look and moved to stand right in front of the glass, hovering over it and scanning it's contents but never putting his hands on it. That was icky, in his opinion- Stan was at his side moments later, scanning over the iced sweets just next to the bagels that had caught Eddie's eye.

"What do you want to bet Bill won't want us wasting our money on any of this?" Stan said with a grin, gaze still glued to a tantalizing slice of carrot cake.

"My soul. How much extra cash do we have to waste?" No one needed to speak another word. The two made a silent agreement- buy whatever the hell you want and defend your purchase with your life. Neither Stan nor Eddie would let Bill scold them for this. They deserved some sort of 'welcome to Portland' treat. In the end, they were both walking away with quite the haul- Eddie had secured a bag of six of those sesame bagels, and Stan had bought the carrot cake along with a loaf of banana bread. Just as Stan passed over the cash needed to pay for the treats, Bill stepped into view, hurrying in their direction with his grocery basket filled with whatever other food the three needed to last them a week.

"Wuh-what did you two get your hands on?" Bill doesn't waste a minute to start interrogating, though the smile on his face betrays his attempts at scolding the two. He doesn't even make them explain themselves, jumping to the next topic right after and beckoning with his head for the two to follow him towards the checkouts, "We should cuh-come here from now on. I like supporting luh-luh-local businesses. It's good for the economy or something, and Mike is n-nice." Eddie almost let out a groan- that was the last thing he wanted, because then he risked running into Richie again. It seemed he and Mike, one of the grocers, were good friends. Why else would he be worried for Richie's well being? Still, Eddie bit his tongue, instead answering with something less rude and more civil.

"We could, or we could go to a bigger store. They'd have more options- we'd probably get better deals, too." Clutching his bag of sesame bagels and hoping Bill would take the bait, he continued in his attempts to convince him, "Here, they've only got so many different things. If we went to the Superstore a ways away we could pick out healthier foods and stuff and probably save a ton of money."

"Eh," Stan answered rather than Bill, holding a hand out in the redheads direction to silently offer a turn carrying the basket, "I like it here. It's quiet, and it's all family run. There'll be less processed items available. You hate processed foods, Eddie, you should love it here- it's all organic." For some odd reason Eddie felt like Stan was maybe... plotting something? The curly-haired boy seemed awfully suspicious. Usually, he just went along with whatever else was decided, and rarely bothered to help in decision making. He never minded what Bill or Eddie chose because, as far as he was concerned, they were both logical and made great decisions. Alarm bells rang in Eddie's head and curiosity began to bubble within him. What was Stanley getting at?

"Luh-let's see how everything plays out. Maybe w-we'll end up going somewhere else next w-week, buh-but we don't ne-need to decide r-ruh-right now." The three arrived at the till.

"Good morning," The lady behind it looked about their age, with bright eyes and glowing sepia skin, her hair frizzy and light, like a cloud around her head. Her name tag read 'Jennifer'. "Chilly day today, isn't it?" Jennifer got right to work, not even glancing down at her hands as she scanned one item and then the next in rapid succession with memorized ease. Bill and her picked up a natural conversation, his great people skills showing through now more than ever. Bill brought up Mike, and the three found out that he was Jennifer's cousin- they also discovered that hers and Mike's grandparents owned the store and kept it running smoothly. Before they knew it, everything was bagged and ready to go. Stan, Bill and Eddie distributed the bags between them, said their goodbyes to the kind girl behind the counter, and made for the doors. The chill that had been in the air when Eddie had first arrived had eased, just a little. The sun peaked out timidly from behind thickening swaths of darkened clouds, and the taste of rain hung heavy on the breeze.

"We should get a cab. I swear to God, if it starts raining and I catch a cold I'm blaming it on you guys." Eddie grimaced as he looked up towards the sky, and the three set off back in the direction of home.

"What are we doing for the rest of the day?" Stan asked, staring up and around at all of the buildings lining the street, taking in every little detail Portland had to offer. Bill was doing just the same as he answered,

"I have nuh-nothing planned. I might take a n-nap or suh-humthing like that before the party." Eddie let out something akin to a scoff, though it sounded more surprised than hostile or anything negative like that.

"Don't you still have unpacking to do? You can't seriously be finished, can you?" Bill shrugged his shoulders, shuffling his grocery bags from one hand to the other. Eddie took that as a sign that Bill was, in fact, done with his unpacking. How, Eddie had no idea- shit, he's hardly finished half of his, and Stan couldn't possibly be done either with how much of a perfectionist he was. As if to prove Eddie wrong, Stan spoke next.

"I finished earlier this morning. You aren't done? How much do you have?" Eddie had brought his biggest suitcase from back home. After all, he had basically taken everything he owned with him; his entire closet, his whole medicine cabinet, more miscellaneous things like some toxin-free cleaning supplies- getting everything into a convenient spot (and needing to clean those convenient spots first) took time and effort and Eddie tended to get distracted. It made sense that he wasn't done yet, but he hadn't expected the other two to have finished so quickly. "That's alright, it's fine," Stan continued, cutting into Eddie's thoughts, "I can help you if you want me to?" Eddie was quick to deny that offer.

"Thanks, but I'm more than capable of putting my own shit away. You guys can do whatever- don't worry about me." Sooner or later, the three arrived back at home, and Bill offered to unload to groceries which left Eddie to get right to work. When they arrived back up in their apartment, Eddie dropped his grocery bags in the new, untouched kitchen and dismissed himself to head for his room. Straight down the hall from the kitchen sat Eddie's door, and behind that, his bedroom, perfectly neat and tidy. As he stepped inside, he took in the sight of it all again with a burst of pride- this was his room, and he finally had the privacy he had always craved. To the direct left of the door sat a small set of drawers with a sizable mirror mounted just above it. Facing those drawers was the king-sized bed fitted with sleek grey sheets and a whole seven pillows of different sizes. Underneath the bed was a rug, the floor a pale hardwood- two bedside tables sat on either side of the bed and a door to the closet was to his right. Finally, the piece de resistance were the large double-doors that led to his own private balcony- since Bill's room had an ensuite and Stan had a walk-in closet, he had scored the balcony and he was more than excited.

At last, Eddie stepped into his room, pushing the door near-shut behind him. The white, cold light filtering in through the glass panes of the balcony doors washed everything around him in a pale luminescence. Any minute now, he was certain, rain would start to fall, and he was glad to have made it home before getting caught in it. Eddie made for his suitcase, which was set at the foot of his bed. It was huge, silver, heavy-duty and still half-full despite a whole hour of unpacking. Pushing it onto it's side, Eddie pulled on the zipper and flipped open the top, not wasting a minute as he began to pick out the pharmaceuticals tucked within. Despite escaping his mother, he hadn't escaped old habits- paranoia still gnawed at his insides whenever he thought of sickness, his own weakened immune system- he pushed the thoughts away and began to arrange his assortment of emergency medications on top of the drawers. As he did so, he stared at his reflection in the mirror- the fear of sickness was, at once, forgotten. Instead, he found himself soaking in the feeling of his newfound independence. Eddie had finally left the nest for good.

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theweasleyslytherin · 3 years

Text

i knew you (ron weasley x reader) part 6

part 1/masterlist

summary: Ron inexplicably broke up with Cassiah Black just days before their final year at Hogwarts, leaving them both with broken hearts and no future plans, but too stubborn and too proud to fix things. The centuries-old rivalry between their Gryffindor and Slytherin houses only make things worse, and friendships are truly put to the test. Will they find their way back together before the year ends, or will the end of their time at Hogwarts be the last time they ever see the each other?

warnings: angst, drug/alcohol use, eventual smut ;)

CHAPTER 6 - awkward situations

I hope I cross your mind when you're too high and wide awake I hope you wonder if I'm happy, if I'm still the same And when you turn over, see her there I hope you think of me and how you wish it would've ended differently

i don't miss u, Caro __________________________

"Blimey, Neville, stop staring. She's gonna think you're a complete creep."

Neville blushed, immediately snapping back to looking at Ron and shielding his face in embarrassment. "M'not staring," he insisted, "She just happened to catch my eye, is all."

Ron snorted, leaning back in his chair and giving the boy a knowing look, "She must happen to catch your eye a lot, then, Longbottom."

The 'she' in question, Luna Lovegood, paid the boys no mind. She was completely entranced by the book she was reading, blocking out the chaos occurring around her as students filed into the classroom. Her wavy blonde hair was falling in a curtain around her face, protecting her from the outside world.

Neville sighed, knowing that trying to play it off was useless. He was a horrible liar. "Just please don't mention it to anyone. I'm never gonna get up the courage to take to her and its... embarrassing," he admitted, his cheeks turning pink.

Ron nodded and clapped a hand against Neville's back, "I wouldn't dream of it, mate." Especially, he thought, since Neville had generously failed to mention the way that he spent all of their class together stealing glances at Cassiah from across the room.

Speaking of which, where was she? The lecture was about to start, and being a prefect and all, she usually made it a point to not be late. It was usually more like Ron to be late than Cassiah – she was kind of the brains of the operation – but this semester he had made it his goal to focus more on his schoolwork and hopefully get his grades up before graduation.

Almost as if on cue, Cassiah burst into the room in a flurry of flying robes and unorganized stacks of paper and books. She looked flustered, her hair pulled into a disgrace of a bun on the top of her head and her robes flailing behind her. Ron still thought she looked beautiful, although it did remind him of the time she got too fucked up at a party last year and thought she was going to throw up. Ron had pulled her hair back into the world's worst bun – not dissimilar to this one – just in case, but she'd ended up sipping water and pulling it together. She always did.

Cassiah's normal seat with the Slytherins was taken. Frankly, Ron was surprised that the guys hadn't saved her seat, but then again, she was late and it was Malfoy and Crabbe he was talking about. Cassiah's gaze travelled over the room searching for an empty seat close to the front when Ron was hit with a horrifying realization. This was a pretty big class, and he and Neville were pretty much the only people in it without a whole friend group. So, not only were there no seats in the front of the classroom, but there were no empty seats anywhere. Except, that is, at his and Neville's table.

"Bloody hell," he cursed under his breath and at that exact moment he watched Cassiah realize what was about to have to happen. Neville looked vaguely nauseous.

And then she was walking towards them.

Cassiah forced her lips up into a tiny, awkward smile, and Ron ducked his head, not wanting to look. He couldn't look. She stood in front of the table for a moment, commenting simply, "I guess I'll be sitting here, then. Hello, Neville."

Neville let out a shaky, "Hi, Cassiah. How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you," she replied. She looked like she was choking for a second before finally adding, "Hi Ron."

Ron was forced to look up from his textbook that he was suddenly very interested in, "Hi, Cassie," he said quickly. He could've sworn he saw a dash of pain rush over her face at the use of his old nickname, but he'd never called her anything else. He must've been wrong though, because she dropped her books down at the table and took her seat without another word. It felt as though every eye in the room was watching them.

Cassiah must have noticed this, too, because she craned her neck to look over her shoulder and say aloud to the class, "Alright, everyone. The show's over." A few people chuckled nervously in response, and Ron started to, as well–

And that was when he saw it. With her neck exposed at this angle and her hair up in a bun, it was on full display for him to see. He shook his head quickly and squinted, not wanting to believe it. There was no way that this was real. His stomach dropped down to his feet and his throat swole up.

There it was on Cassiah's beautiful, tanned neck. A massive, purplish bruise that he instantly recognized as a love bite. Now he was going to throw up.

She turned back towards the table and they locked eyes for a moment. For a moment, blue met hazel and the whole world stopped.

But Ron felt his eyes beginning to shine with tears he wasn't willing to let her see, and just as quickly as the moment had begun, it ended as he turned away and began stuffing his books into his bag. She'd totally seen him staring and now he looked pathetic.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Neville asked, concerned and completely oblivious to what had just happened. He had been fortunate enough to not be at the right angle to see the absolute monstrosity on Cassiah's neck. Whatever guy had left it there must have had some sort of vampire fetish.

Ron fumbled over his words as he practically jumped up out of his seat and slung his back haphazardly over his shoulder, "I don't feel well all of a sudden. I reckon it's a stomach bug. I've got to go see Madam Pomfrey."

So much for prioritizing his schoolwork, he thought bitterly. Three weeks into school and he was already ditching class over a girl. He left the room in such a hurry that he didn't hear or see a single thing anyone might've said to him. His blood was pumping in his ears so loudly that he couldn't hear anything over the ringing.

At least he wasn't fully lying about the stomach bug thing, because he did puke in the bathroom once he made it safely out of the classroom. It didn't make him feel any less heartbroken, though.

___________

"So Cassiah is definitely seeing someone new," Ron confessed to Harry at dinner later that day.

Harry furrowed his brow, giving Ron a strange look. "Yeah... I already knew that, mate. She went on that date with Ernie Macmillan," he said calmly. Ron shook his head before staring at his feet, willing himself to get his emotions under control. Harry saw through him and prodded, "Judging by the reaction, I'm guessing there's something you're not telling me?"

Ron swallowed and looked back up, but still refused to make eye contact with Harry. He couldn't bring himself to do it for some reason. He nodded, "Yeah. A massive hickey on her neck this morning in Potions. I had the pleasure of a front row seat because she was late and had to sit with me and Neville."

"Shit," Harry said plainly, "That's why you've been off tonight. You've barely even touched your dinner."

Ron pursed his lips together, staring down at his still-full plate of roast beef – his favorite. But he still felt sick from the morning's events and he couldn't bring himself to eat it. He poked lamely at it with his fork.

He knew he should eat – he had Quidditch practice tonight and he needed his strength. Plus, he should be ravenous after heaving up breakfast and not eating all day, but he felt nothing.

"I don't know who it even could be," he stated instead of answering Harry's comment, "I mean, Macmillan just doesn't seem like the type to be so aggressive on the first date, but who else could it be? I hadn't heard of her seeing anyone else."

Harry considered. "Yeah... But, and please don't take this the wrong way. But you don't really run in the same circles anymore, so I don't know how you would hear, anyways."

"Thank you so much for pointing that out, mate," murmured Ron, and cursing under his breath, "Bloody hell, what am I becoming?"

The sat in silence for a few minutes, Ron picking at his food like a bird. He listened quietly at the other boys talked and laughed boisterously amongst themselves. He was honestly a bit dazed out, staring at the reflection of the candles in his glass, when he heard Seamus call out his name,

"Ron. Black is walking over here, just warning you, buddy."

And for the second time today, Ron looked over to see Cassiah approaching him. This time, she looked even more nervous that the last. What could she possibly want? he thought, feeling his jaw set tight. Whatever she needed, she could ask her new boyfriend.

"Um... hello," he stuttered when she stopped in front of him, all plans of acting cool and detaching flying out the window the second he was in her presence.

"Hi," she said back, smiling softly and then letting her gaze flutter nervously to all the other Gryffindor guys. Ron realized, watching her, that this was the first time she'd seen any of his friends since the break up. They used to be her friends, too.

Bloody hell, she was speaking again. "Ron, I heard you say you were sick earlier when you left class. I know we're not really... talking right now," she paused, pursing her lips together as if working up the courage to speak, "But I know your grades are really important to you this year and I just wanted to offer you my notes. I take pretty good ones, if you remember," she offered, laughing awkwardly at the end. She was smiling, but something about her energy was making Ron feel nervous in return.

"O-Oh," he stammered, mentally smacking himself for acting like a bloody idiot, "Thank you, Cassie. That would be great, actually." He paused for a moment, and then plastered a smile onto his face so he didn't look as rude as he felt.

She nodded for a second, almost as if she was expecting him to say no, and then thrust forward a handful of papers to him. He took them from her, studying them for a moment. Same magnificent penmanship and color-coordinated note-taking system. So part of her was still his same Cassie, despite the blemish defiling her beautiful neck.

"Thank you so much," he said, smiling up at her, "I'll get them back to you as soon as I'm through with them."

"Aright," she stated.

"Aright," he reassured.

She bit her lip before finally saying, "Take care, Ron."

"Take care, Cassie," he replied before she turned on her heal and walked away.

When he turned back to his friends at the table, none of them were breathing. They were probably too scared.

"What?" he remarked, "Just cause we broke up we can't be friendly?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at him and answered, "We never said that. I just didn't think that you wanted to be friends with her, especially after the hickey situation earlier today."

Ron sighed. Harry was partially right. It really hurt him to know that Cassiah was moving on, but perhaps she was the wrong person to be angry with. Their interaction had left him feeling a lot better about things. He was the one who'd pushed her away and forced to be open to other options. At least she'd picked someone as benign and neutral as Ernie to move on with. Perhaps the only person he should really harbor any bad feelings towards is himself.

"Well," he considered, "It seems like she's trying to be friendly, and maybe if she's trying, I should try to get over my feelings to be friends, too. It's better than being enemies."

And he meant it. If he could get over his feelings for her and the hurt he felt when he thought of her, it would be better to be friends with Cassie than not have her in his life at all. So that's what he would do.

He dug into his dinner, suddenly having his appetite back and ready for Quidditch practice.

__________________________

So they're talking again! That's a step in the right direction... right...?

We'll just have to wait and see ;)

Sorry that this chapter is sooo short. The content for the next chapter just didn't seem to make sense with the rest of this one. It'll be up soon, though.

Thank you so much for being so supportive! xx jenna

Published on my Wattpad (halebscallison) and my Tumblr (theweasleyslytherin).

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cetaceans-pls · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Momentary Vampirism, Discussion of Blood bags, Family Bonding

The one where Bruce gets turned into a vampire, and Alfred has to call in the cavalry to deal with him.

Or, Dick comes through on a Friday night to help wrangle a reluctant bloodsucker.

Bro I just kind of went off on the concept of short-term vampirism and silverware, so here’s some Alfred-Dick-Bruce bonding over Bloody Marys and the different sorts of magic. Please enjoy this pick-me-up I wrote in one weird, frizzy sitting!

On tumblr below the cut:

“I came as soon as I could!” Dick says, rounding a corner so quickly he skids on the marble floor. The text had come through almost an hour ago, but he had been on the tail end of a Zoom interview (quitting policing this pandemic has been both terrifically easy and terribly hard) so between putting on pants and getting through Friday-night traffic, this is how things lie. “How is he?”

“‘He’ is fine, Dick, thank you for concern,” Bruce says tetchily from where he’s sat in the centre of the Yellow Room, surrounded six foot deep by Wayne Manor silverware haloing out around him. The UV lights they use at crime scenes are blaring harsh violet lines around the perimeter, and further out by the edges of the room, 6 of their portable sun lamps are turned off but trained right on him.

“This is all pointless,” Bruce carries on, sweeping his arm ‘round wide in a grand gesture, hissing when a brush against a silver-plated serving trolley has his hand sizzling. “Alfred really shouldn’t have called you.”

Dick ignores him completely to turn to Alfred, who has 3 sets of rosary beads hanging around his neck and irritation hanging from his eyes. “Uhm. I didn’t read further down the text than ‘B was attacked, please come over when you can’. I’m guessing I missed something?”

“You would be guessing right, Master Richard.” Alfred whips off a rosary and hangs it around Dick’s neck, and plops three teaspoons into a blazer pocket. “We aren’t sure quite who is to blame for this latest conundrum, but Batman was struck down by something while making rounds by the Cathedral. Master Bruce appears to have become a, a…” Alfred makes a disgusted noise, “a vampire of some sort, and had insisted I lock him up in a cell till a magic-user from the League could come by and take a look.”

Dick’s ashamed to admit that on hearing the word ‘vampire’ his fist had curled tightly around a teaspoon. After all, the bluntest edge can still manifest as a shiv, if you shove it in hard enough. He’s further shamed that Bruce clearly catches his micro-movement, and he just downright hates the pleased look B has at knowing that Dick is open to bodily violence against him.

Part of the commute time to get back to the Manor almost always involves him psyching himself up to deal with Bruce, and today it looks like it’s going to pay off.

“Okay, got it.” Dick deeply doesn’t, but bluffing can be as important as actually understanding, so. “Why’s he being kept here instead?”

“No master of the Manor,” Alfred says the way a lesser man would say ‘No son of mine’,”will be tossed into some cell while in full possession of himself, thank you very much.”

“I was going to start an automated protocol to have myself manacled and emergency-signal Superman to come by and potentially put me down,” Bruce interrupts from the near distance, “but I was lured here and now I’m trapped.”

Dick catches himself halfway through a laugh; he can’t help it. If Bruce really, really wanted to, escaping this room with its myriad hazards and shining lights would be possible, especially if the situation was so urgent that he was willing to risk serious injury for it.

If Bruce really, really thought he was a danger, thought deep in his messy little heart that he really, really could hurt or injure Alfred while it was just the two of them here waiting for reinforcements, Dick knows he would have grabbed the silver steak knife closest by and, ah, taken matters into his own hands.

It’s as ingrained a response as Dick instinctively putting himself between Bruce and Alfred even while his brain was still catching up to sudden vampirism, shiv-spoon (shvoon?) at the ready.

He lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, untenses muscles that had been ready for something awful since the text had come through. “You’re finally more bat than man, B, so don’t bother pretending to be upset.” Dick spies a tray laden with soup and bread on a little coffee table and heads over, giving up guarding Alfred because their much scarier guard dog has just sprouted fangs. “Oh, man, tomato soup and garlic bread? Alfred, you think of everything.”

“I do try,” Alfred primly says, clearly satisfied that Dick is on his side. “And if you could see your way clear to getting Master Bruce to also partake?”

“I said no, Alfred!” Bruce’s voice cracks like sudden thunder across the room, and it would have been mighty terrifying with its slight unearthly timber if the UV lights bouncing off forks didn’t make the room look a lot like a rave. Even with his eyes starting to turn red, even with the harsh edges of his shape blurring into mist, Bruce can’t quite manage to intimidate.

Everyone in the room knows that it’s just for show, now, so even paranormal powers manifesting doesn’t slow down Dick’s enjoyment of soup. “C’mon, Bruce. It’s just like a blood transfusion, except you take it through the mouth. We all routinely take worse things through the mouth.” Just last week Dick had crunched on something while eating a bowl of soggy cereal he’d accidentally left out overnight, and the certainty that it was some sort of super-armoured cockroach haunts him till this day. “Is it a supply and demand thing? You can have some of my blood bags, Alfred can take some out of me while I’m here.”

“What an excellent suggestion, Master Richard. My blood has unfortunately been turned down because Master Bruce has some spectacularly backwards thoughts regarding older folk, but surely there’ll be no complaint for yours.”

“There are plenty of complaints!” Bruce roars, now up on his feet and pacing in the little circle at the centre of all the silver. “I will not eat anyone’s blood, I will stay in this space and meditate until Zatanna shows up and cures me. There is a magic user zapping vampirism into people in Gotham, and none of this will be solved by you sticking an arm under my teeth!”

His fangs are all the way out now, down almost to his chin, drawing scratches on stubbly skin. Under the native environment of the Bat, out in the night perched somewhere high, he’d be a terror.

Under the warm loving light of the Yellow Room, under the warm loving gaze of people who know him best, he’s more ‘angry hissing kitten’ than anything else.

Dick slurps the rest of the soup, and mops up the rest with the crusty bit of his garlic toast. “So, if it was me that got turned into a vampire, you’re telling me you… wouldn’t IV pump me full of blood fresh out your veins? If you lie to me I will throw a teaspoon at your head.”

There’s nothing but a mutinous quiet from Bruce, who’s huffing and misting and snarling and floating a good three inches off the ground. Good, at least he’s not feeling so pressed to the edge that he needed to lie.

“… I’ll take my own blood.”

Alfred sniffs, and it’s a dignified sound that somehow echoes in this fairly large room. “After your little altercation with Dr. Ivy last week, sir, your own supply is running unfortunately low. Two bags left, and I intend to keep them in case coming out of vampirism treats you poorly. No, sir, you’ll have a mug of Master Richard’s blood or so help me God I will tranquilise you and feed it to you myself.”

Alfred catches himself mid-rampage, and huffs a little while neatening the cuff of his shirt. “Those are your choices, sir. Pick one.”

Reading the room, it’s easy to tell that the hour it took Dick to get here from Bludhaven has likely been filled with that sort of tersely-worded bitching that Alfred and Bruce have down to the finest art. “A couple of pints of blood, Type D, coming right up. Bruce, I’d recommend just giving up right now. If Alfred works down the line, Jason’s coming in next, and that’s gonna end with a fist to the mouth.” Dick brushes crumbs off his hands, and jumps out of the crouch he’d been in on the arm of the sofa to head towards Alfred. “No one’s getting out of that without a broken finger or fang or both, so just take mine, okay? For us.”

Bruce doesn’t deign to actually say yes or fine , just seems to fade into shadows he’s manifesting himself, but it reads like a grumpy acceptance of defeat.

Good enough , thinks Dick. “Give us a sec, we’ll be right back. If you’re extra good, I’ll even make a Bloody Mary out of mine!”

Batarangs aren’t made of silver, but they sure do make a flashy thunk when they bite into a doorjamb a clean 10 feet away from the nearest person.

Alfred huffs a quiet laugh but Dick is much louder and substantially more insulting as they make their way down to the Cave.

The blood fridge is a thing of stainless steel tucked in a corner of the medbay, and it’s covered in magnets. The Wayne brood travel a lot, but Bats and Birds travel even more. It’s become a weird habit that got adopted like kids get adopted ‘round here; Dick looks at a cracked dinosaur magnet he’d bought at the Bludhaven Natural History Museum his first night out as Nightwing, and nostalgia hits harder than teeth in the neck. “We’re gonna need a bigger one of these soon, Alfred. We’re almost out of free real estate.”

“We shall persevere nonetheless, sir.” Alfred opens the fridge, and goes along the top row till he gets to the little placard with Dick’s face on it. The filing system remains sweetly, sweetly old-school, even if everyone knows where theirs is stored by feel alone, and each bag is barcoded with enough details to alarm even the most dedicated phlebotomist.

Looking over the racks, Dick whistles. “Bruce isn’t the only one who’s had a rough time recently, huh? Tim didn’t mention that the last Titans’ fight got him two bags down.”

For that, he gets his ear flicked. “Don’t snoop, Master Richard, it’s unbecoming.” Alfred takes a bag off Dick’s shelf and pops it into a cooler bag. He closes the door, and heads to the kitchenette in the Cave where he scrounges up a little metal straw. “Thank you for coming by so quickly. I was at my wits’ end trying to convince him to have just the littlest nibble. He tried to keep himself locked in the Batmobile when he came back via autopilot.” Alfred rinses the straw with more aggression than necessary. “I tugged on the handle, and the door was locked. A door, locked to me! In my own home!” He sounds as incensed as Alfred ever does, but he also goes to grab some tomato juice and a couple of sticks of celery, just in case.

“You wore him down for me, Alfred, I had it easy.” Dick quietly grabs another couple of bags of his blood, because deep deep down Bruce isn’t the only one hesitant about feeding on family, looks like. “Surprised you’d turn to me for this, though. Seems like more of a Tim thing, have him over with a 50-slide presentation on why vampirism’s really not that different to CPR, or something.” He swoops by Alfred’s side and picks up the cooler bag and the bucket of ice, because there are a lot of stairs from the Cave back up to Yellow, and kind men deserve kind things done on behalf of their creaking knees, thanks very much.

“You certainly have a point, Master Tim can be alarmingly persuasive with his statistics and, ah, unblinking stare.” Alfred doesn’t acknowledge Dick helping him with his things, just looks a little glad to have a hand free to hold on to the handrail, which is acknowledgement enough. “However, I have to admit that when I am at my wits’ end with Master Bruce, I always want to turn to you, Master Dick.” He pauses at the top of the stairs, turns and smiles his neat little smile at Dick who is finding balance harder to maintain than usual. “You have kept me company in my never-ending fight to care for Master Bruce longer than anyone else, after all.”

(Longer, longer, longer even than Bruce’s parents, God love them both.)

Alfred reaches out, pats Dick’s hand and nimbly reacquires his wares. “Do not under any circumstance tell the others, of course, but an old man is allowed his favourite ally.”

Dick is a whole-ass adult who’s lived through more things than people 15 times his age, he’s dressed in a smart suit and tie after an interview for a position as a flight paramedic, and he’s helped ward off the apocalypse at least on three separate occasions.

He knows enough about enough to know that their vampire-magician is deeply, deeply outclassed by Alfred’s mastery over spacetime, because right now Dick knows that if he looks down at himself, he’ll be 9 years old again, wearing oversized pyjamas as he tries not to cry because it’s his birthday and Alfred had made him a stack of pancakes the size of his head, while Bruce skulks by the door holding five separate tubs of ice cream, looking uncomfortable and uncertain and bound and determined to be a responsible parent

(like he’s bound and determined to be a responsible vampire).

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dick murmurs under his breath, rubbing his cheek to break the spell.

“Language,” Alfred’s voice floats back towards him, as they make their way back to the Yellow Room.

There’s a bit of a scuffle, trying to get Bruce to actually drink the blood. When Dick had casually tossed a bag at Bruce, it had been batted right back at him like the world’s weirdest opening to a game of ping-pong. Another fight almost broke out then, because at least a third of all of Gotham’s collective stubbornness was sat in the room at that point, but Dick managed to force through a resolution by making a Bloody bloody Mary for Bruce, and regular Bloody Marys for himself and Alfred.

They sit where they want, Bruce in his circle, Dick perched on a windowsill, and Alfred on the sofa, and they sip at their meticulously non-identical drinks. They’re on their third round of Bloody Marys and sweet idle conversation when the message comes through that Zatanna’s on her way, and the tension in the room drains as smoothly as they do their drinks.

“Ah, what perfect timing,” Alfred says like he hasn’t worked his way through an alarming amount of vodka. “Just in time for a really early breakfast.”

It’s 3 AM, and hopefully after unraveling vampirism Z will be interested in some god-tier chicken and waffles. Dick’s stomach is already rumbling, and he’s in an unspeakably good mood. It’s a trinity of trinities, three generations of Wayne and Wayne-adjacents, three Bloody Marys each, it’s three o'clock in the morning.

There’s a father, a son, and Alfred counts as their Holiest Ghost, probably. Funny that Bruce has to become unholy to make Dick feel gently religious, though that might be the vodka and dreams of fried chicken futures. “How’re you feeling, Bruce?”

Flushed with blood, Bruce looks healthier and heartier than he does on average, which is a fight to tackle a different night. “… Better,” he admits, digging a fang into a celery stick with an expression of deep concentration. “I could fly if I tried, I think.”

Dick whoops, and nearly drops his glass. “It’s that vitamin D, bay-bee.”

It even earns a chuckle from Alfred, and Dick can feel god in this Yellow Room tonight. “I think,” Dick says with utmost seriousness, “that being a vampire is a good look for you, B. Feels good to get you something, even if it’s just a drink.”

Feels good to be able to provide for you instead of the other way ‘round, is something a more sober Dick would think.

From his corner, Alfred raises his glass in a steady-handed toast. “Just a drink is plenty when just a drink is all you need. So here’s a toast to you, Master Dick. Thank you for coming to our rescue.”

In the middle of a sea of silverware, Bruce raises his glass too, and oh, now Dick’s the one gone red in the face.

“Any time,” he says, and he’s glad to know he means it. “Honestly, this makes me feel like B should get turned into a vampire more often.” There’s a lot of magic in the Manor tonight, and only the tiniest fraction of it has to do with their rogue magician. Dick can’t remember when he last spent this much time with just Alfred and Bruce, and it feels like a loose anchor digging in juuust right.

The world’s in turmoil and his personal life has seen better days, but there’s a tether that comes off from the Manor and these two men. Sometimes, it’s a noose.

More often than not, it’s a lifeline, and what a fine feeling it is to know that that goes both ways.

Dick doesn’t know what’s showing on his face, though by how Bruce is now sat up and intensely staring at him, he’s probably revealing way, way too sopping much.

Bruce clears his throat, and his flush deepens into a rosy, rosy red. “Well. As being a part-time vampire does have its advantages, it’s. Hmm. I will discuss it with Zatanna, and see what I can do.”

And geeze, time-travel magic must be inherited too because Dick’s been forced back to his 9th birthday again, to Bruce Wayne-the-literal-Batman hovering uncertainly while holding way too much ice cream as he tries to accommodate Dick in that stupid, awkward, and hideously embarrassing way only he knows how.

“I’ll toast to that,” Dick says, ignoring the terrible scratch and crack in his voice, and he and Bruce both only nearly lose it when Alfred raises his glass again, and

quietly, quietly

murmurs, “Here’s a toast to my family”.

#batfam #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #family bonding #whale writing #bro i watched a weird japanese tv show last week #and it just left me in the weirdest most off-kilter mood #there literally way no direction for this story #i just like the thought of alfred having different niche categories #he can assign favourites too #and also vampire bruce who can turn to mist but doesn't #bc he was raised right #anyways here's wonderwall

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adenei · 3 years

Text

Finding My Way To You - Ch. 6

A/N: I know I’ve had several asks in my box over the past few weeks asking for Ron & Hermione’s second kiss. Well, here’s another version of their second kiss in this chapter in case you were one of the requesting anons. Enjoy!

2nd a/n: Some of you may have noticed I posted this earlier this week. I wasn’t happy with the original version of it, so I made some additions and edits to the chapter, and I'm much happier with the revamped version. I hope you'll give it another re-read if you've already seen it to catch some of the changes I've made, and as always, thanks so much for taking the time to read my stories!

*********************

Only You

Hermione stared at the door as it closed behind Ron. She looked at her parents. “But, Mum, I didn’t- I don’t-”

“Don’t what, sweetheart? Don’t want Ron to go? Well, clearly, he’s let you down again. Maybe you’re better-” her mother tried to finish her sentence.

“No.” Hermione said.

“Then, what is it, Hermione?” Her mother pressed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Hermione got up and walked down the hall of the ranch home, looking for a bedroom to escape to. She found the second bedroom quickly enough, and shut the door behind her.

Why would her Mum insist that she stay with them? Why did Ron just agree and leave? Hadn’t she made it clear last night that she wanted to stay with him? There was a knock on the door, and her father walked in.

“Dad, I’m not in the mood to talk right now,” Hermione said.

“Hermione, honey, I’m not asking you to talk. I just want you to listen. I know your mother is being a bit harsh on Ron, and I’ve told her as much as I’m about to tell you. I don’t think she’s in the right here. We love you, and we’ve missed you, but you don’t have to stay here overnight if you don’t want to. I’ll understand if you want to go back to the flat with Ron. Your mother will come to terms with it eventually, too. You’re an adult now and I trust you to make your own decisions.”

“Y-You’re not mad at Ron?” Hermione asked him.

“No, sweetheart, I’m not. He’s a good person, and he cares a great deal for you,” Mr. Granger assured her.

“So you won’t be mad if I go to him?”

“No, Hermione, I think you need to go to him. Besides, I don’t think you even have anything to stay here with.”

“That’s true,” Hermione said as she stood up to hug her father. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome,” her father said. Hermione started towards the door when her father said. “Hermione, take the flowers back with you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked him with a confused look on her face.

“The roses. They were meant for you. Take them with you when you go back.”

“They were?” Hermione looked completely flabbergasted. Mr. Granger smiled as he nodded to her.

Hermione thought for a moment and remembered that Ron was stuttering through something when she’d told him it was a brilliant idea to get flowers for her parents. ‘They’re meant to be for…’ She never let him finish.

She couldn’t wait any longer. Hermione raced down the hall and into the kitchen. She picked up the vase with the roses in them and hurried for the door where she slipped on her shoes. Her mother must have retired to her bedroom because she didn’t see her as she grabbed her beaded bag.

Hermione exited out the front door and walked down the drive and turned on to the sidewalk. She took a moment to really notice the flowers. There were twelve. Ron had told her the different colors had different meanings. Had he picked them out for her on purpose? Two purple, two white, two pink, and six looked...yellow? Or red? Hermione picked up her pace now as she walked briskly back to their flat.

She walked up to their building and shifted the flowers to one arm so she could type in the code. The door clicked, and she opened the door. After making sure it closed behind her, Hermione made her way up the stairs. She stopped outside their door and set the flowers on the floor so she could dig out the key. Hermione unlocked the door, picked up the flowers and entered. She shut the door behind her as she saw Ron sitting on the couch.

He turned slightly to see her. “Come to get your things I expect,” he said in a hollow voice.

Hermione stared at the back of his head. “No, actually. I’m not going back there tonight.”

“Well, why not? Your Mum wants you home. She doesn’t want me around you. Made that bloody clear.”

“I’m an adult, in case you hadn’t noticed. And I can make my own choices!”

“I know that, Hermione, but if it’s all the same, you just got your parents back. I don’t want you to lose them on my account.” Ron had turned to face her now.

“I’m not going to lose them, Ron! I thought you’d be happy to see me, but I guess I was mistaken. If you really don’t want me here, then maybe I will go back. Let’s just separate our things and you can grab the next portkey to London!” Hermione couldn’t help her temper. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to talk about the flowers that she still clutched in her arms, not fight with him!

“Is that what you want?” Ron stood up and moved around the couch. His own voice was raised now. “Because if it is, then just tell me and I’ll go!”

Hermione stared dumbstruck at him. She shook her head violently. “N-no,” she whispered. She managed to regain her composure and then said more assertively, “Why would you think I’d want that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ron challenged.

“Why wouldn’t- You can’t honestly be serious right now!”

Ron just gave her a look. “Let’s see, I had to insist on coming with you multiple times. You kept trying to tell me to stay until you finally gave in. We’ve barely spoken since the end of the war-”

“And how is all of that my fault? Your brother died, Ron! I was trying to give you space! I figured you’d come to me and we’d talk when you were ready. I didn’t know what else to do. I tried to be there for you when you needed it, but you preferred to be in your room, or with Harry. And it’s not that I didn’t want you to come with me. Your family needed you. I couldn’t be selfish. You’d just been away from them for the better part of a year!”

“That wasn’t your choice to make, Hermione! I needed to get away, but you wouldn’t know that because you never asked!

“Because you never gave me a chance to!” Hermione shouted back at him, her eyes pooling with tears now. “You only ever came around when the nightmares started, and then you went right back up to your bedroom.”

“What did you expect from me, then? Did you want me to stay with you? You always insisted you were fine, so how was I supposed to bloody know what you wanted?”

Hermione lost it then. “I kissed you, Ron! Before the battle! I’m not sure how much more obvious I could have made myself. Then I waited. And waited. And I’m still waiting for you to say something about it. At this point I guess it didn’t mean anything to you now that we’ve made it to the other side.”

Hermione didn’t have anything more to say to him. She was used to rowing with Ron, and sometimes she even felt invigorated by it. But this, this was exhausting. She just couldn’t waste any more of her energy. She walked into the bedroom and slammed the door. The flowers were still in her arms and she set them on the dresser before walking to the bed and burying her face in the pillow as she laid down.

She finally gave in to the tears that had been threatening. Nothing could ever seem to go properly when it came to Ron. Maybe she was foolish in thinking it could ever work between them. There was too much that was left unspoken and neither knew how to breach the topic of conversation with the other without keeping their emotions in check.

Hermione barely heard the door open. She held her breath, not knowing what Ron was doing. Was he just going to use the loo and then go back out to the couch? She had her answer soon enough.

“It didn’t mean nothing, Hermione,” she heard him say.

“Well, why didn’t you say anything then?” she said into the pillow. Who knew if he actually heard her through the muffled sounds.

“Thought it might have been a pity kiss,” Ron said as he dug his foot into the carpet.

“A pity kiss?” Hermione picked her head up off the pillow. “Are you serious? You’re the one who said it’s now or never, weren’t you? What was that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come off it, Hermione, we could have easily ended up like any of those other people who weren’t so lucky! Harry had asked us if that was really the moment, whatever the hell that meant. So, yeah, I responded with it’s now or never, since we may not have gotten another chance!”

“But now we do have another chance, yet we’re no closer to anything than we were at Bill and Fleur’s wedding,” Hermione stated.

Ron took in her words. She wasn’t wrong. Well, maybe a bit wrong. “Reckon we were a bit closer at the wedding, now that you mention it.”

Despite her best efforts to stay mad at him, Hermione couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. “You’re probably right.”

Ron stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of whether the intensity of the row had passed, and whether he could move closer to talk to her in a more mild mannered way. It was then that he’d finally noticed the roses were back. Despite their entire argument, he’d barely processed that she’d been holding them. “Why’d you bring those back?” he asked.

“D-Dad said they were for me. That you’d- you got them for me, but I didn’t listen.”

“Yeah. They were. Still are.” Ron moved closer to her and sat on edge of the bed.

“You said that the colors of the roses had meaning?” Hermione asked him.

“I- yeah, I did,” Ron admitted. “But it’s not that important.”

“But...did you pick those colors on purpose?” Ron nodded at her question. “W-why?”

Ron waited before he answered. “Because they reminded me of you. And I thought they fit us well.”

“What do the pink ones stand for?” Hermione said without thinking.

“The pink’s for, er,” Ron had to think for a moment. “Right, the pink’s for admiration and happiness.”

“And the white?” She tried her luck again.

“The white stands for loyalty and new beginnings.”

Hermione nodded. She assumed he’d picked the purple because it was one of her favorite colors, and you didn’t often see purple roses. “How about the dual colored ones? There’s quite a lot of those,” Hermione noticed.

“They’re yellow roses with red tips,” Ron explained. He admired them again for a moment before looking into her eyes. This was it. This was the moment. “The florist said they signify friendship deepening to love.”

Hermione’s lips parted as she heard the words come out of Ron’s mouth. She felt as though her heart stopped for the briefest of moments. The words she’d been hoping for since she’d kissed him before the battle was underway. Well, since fifth or sixth year, really, but who was counting? He...he loved her. He really, truly loved her. She watched as his ears had turned scarlet, his eyes had averted from hers briefly.

“Y-you…” Hermione was having a terrible time trying to form words.

“Yeah,” Ron admitted. “Wanted to tell you for a while, but the moment hasn’t been right.”

“Since when do we wait for the right moment?” Hermione gaped at him. “Ron, I kissed you in the middle of a battle! I’ve been waiting for over a month for you to say something about it. I was starting to give up that maybe you felt-” Hermione didn’t finish her sentence.

Ron had stopped listening at ‘right moment.’ She was right. They never did wait for the timing to be ideal, and Ron was sick of talking about it. So he leaned over, and his lips found hers, taking her by surprise. His hand had reached up to cup her face while the other wrapped around her back. It took Hermione a moment to really understand what was happening, but when she realized it, she melted into him. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him back.

She never wanted the feeling to end. Hermione felt as though she could kiss him like this for the rest of her life and that’d be perfectly fine. When they finally parted, Hermione looked at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell them you left, I really didn’t.”

“I know. I know,” he said. “It’s okay. I think it’s better that they know now. I meant what I said at Shell Cottage, though. I don’t have any plans to leave you.”

“I won’t leave either,” she responded. They were quiet for a moment as Hermione’s gaze drifted back towards the roses, and she thought more about the purples ones. “What about the purple? Is it because purple is one of my favorite colors?”

Ron rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Er, no. Purple stands for love at first sight...I mean, it probably wasn’t love at first sight, since y’know, I called you a nightmare and all first year, but when I think back on the moment I knew, I can’t really think of a moment where I didn’t feel this way. I was just too much of a stupid prat to realize it.”

“So the Yule Ball?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

“I was jealous,” he admitted. “By the way, I knew you were a girl. And I’d noticed quite a lot since third year,” his face felt hot. “Was too embarrassed to be mature about it.”

A small smile played at Hermione’s lips. “And the perfume fifth year?”

“Was supposed to be a hint,” Ron told her. “I’m sorry if you didn’t like it.”

“Why wouldn’t I have liked it?” Hermione asked him.

“You called it unique..that’s not exactly what someone says when they like something, is it?” Ron questioned.

“I, er, no, I guess not. I do like it though. I’m starting to run out, though.”

“I can get more, though it may be slightly different since I now know the answers to some of the questions I didn’t before..”

“Questions?” Hermione asked him.

“Yeah, they create the perfume right there in the shop and customize it to the answers that you give about the person it’s for.”

“That sounds fascinating!” Hermione said in awe.

“So then, when you asked me to Slughorn’s party in Herbology. That was meant to be a date?” Ron asked as Hermione nodded. “I really fucked things up, then, didn’t I?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Hermione said, but Ron gave her a look. “Really, it doesn’t! We still figured things out, and we’re, well I think at least..”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Ron blurted out. He didn’t want there to be any questions surrounding their relationship.

“Yes!” Hermione said without hesitation. She sighed into Ron’s lips as he leaned in to kiss her again. They fell into an easy rhythm, getting to know the feeling of each other as they took their time sharing a soft, slow snog.

Hermione wasn’t sure how long they remained like that. Not that she cared. It was perfect. At some point they finally broke apart, taking turns using the loo to change into their pajamas. Now, they were curled up in bed, but unlike last night, Ron had wrapped his arms around her. It was hard to believe that everything she’d been hoping for last night was a reality only a day later. A reality she could get used to, finally knowing that she was his.

#romione #hp post war #hp australia

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rosemarypasta · 4 years

Text

➤ pairing : oikawa tooru x female reader (karasuno manager)

➤ chapter warnings : slowburn (?)

➤ summary : You just recently joined the Karasuno boy’s volleyball team as their first year manager. As you grow closer to your teammates, you also unexpectedly grow closer to one of their biggest rivals, Oikawa Tooru

➤ chapter word count: 1939

-ˏˋ chapter four ˊˎ-

THURSDAY

4:00 PM

"TANAKA AND NOYA, KEEP IT DOWN!" Daichi yelled, his head turned to the back of the bus where a mixture of wild and feral first year and second year volleyball players sat. He turned back and sank into his seat in the first row of the bus where he was sat with the rest of his first years players who were seated across you and Shimizu. The scolding Daichi gave his team was very much effective however, all hell breaks loose once more as the bus stops for a toilet break in a gas station and everyone chaotically raced to get off the bus. You didn't need the toilet so you stayed back and remained seated.

You felt your pocket vibrate and you mentally squealed with glee. You rushed to pull your phone out and read the message sent to you.

Oikawa: hey :) are you there yet?

You looked around to see if anyone was snooping but thankfully, a good 9/10 of the team went to to use the toilet so no one was there to read your messages.

Y/N: We're almost there! Hinata begged for another toilet break...

Oikawa: hahahaha if he were on my team i would've just left him

You smiled at his playful message and began to type another reply.

"Watcha smiling at?" A voice in front of you said out of nowhere. You jumped in your seat at the sight of the charismatic yet cunning vice captain and accidentally threw your phone up in the air. The silver haired boy laughed at your overreaction and bent down to pick your phone up as you felt your cheeks and ears burn up.

"Man, we're never gonna reach Seijoh at this point." He groaned as he handed your phone back. The Karasuno volleyball team was headed to another practice match with Aoba Johsai but this time, it was held in their school.

It has been over a week since you last saw OIkawa and traded phone numbers with him. You've been texting him on a daily basis at this point and you felt ecstatic when Takeda sensei announced the practice match. You had to conceal your smile as the announcement was taking place as you felt Tanaka and Nishinoya's eyes burning a hole on your back, as if they knew exactly what was going through your head. Of course, you kept the fact that you've been getting friendly with their rival's team captain under wraps, though it wasn't like anyone has come up to you and asked who you were texting so you weren't technically lying about anything but you did feel guilty for some reason.

"What are you thinking about Y/N?" Sugawara hummed as he fixed some bags on the overhead compartment above your seat. "O-oh um nothing, I was just wondering why we don't have practice matches with other schools," you lied, "I never knew Karasuno had such strong ties with Seijoh." Sugawara rested his chin on top of the seat beside me, furrowing his eyebrows in deep thought. "That's true, it's odd how Aoba Johsai asks for a practice match so soon after our last one, especially because they won previously. During my entire three years in this club, Seijoh has only reached out to us a total of three times so they must really like us now huh." He shrugged. You were about to continue the conversation but the bus was shortly filled back in with the rest of the team and you were forced to continue the journey to the practice match.

You arrived in another fifteen minutes and the boys immediately started to stretch and warm up for the practice match they were all so pumped about, still unsatisfied with the result from the match they previously had. You took a seat beside coach Ukai and Shimizu and pulled out a notebook and a pen from your backpack to take down notes of the match. A student from Seijoh playing as the referee blew his whistle and commenced the match.

You looked over to Aoba Johsai's side of the court to see Oikawa serving first. His brown hair was styled as usual with no hair out of place and his veins on his right arm popped ever so slightly as he held the volleyball he was going to serve with one hand. He threw the ball up in the air and your eyes unexpectedly met. He smirked in the midst of jumping to deliver his signature jump serve and hit the ball with all the power he had. Though the power he had could leave anyone in awe, the word "OUT" echoed the gym and Oikawa was greeted with a smack on his head by his vice captain, Iwaizumi, who he frequently mentioned in your conversations.

The entire team glanced menacingly at their captain while he rubbed the back of his neck and gave them a playful wink, making you giggle at the sight of the peculiar volleyball captain. You thought all captains of any sports team would be more reliable and mature like Daichi but you guess you were wrong.

The matched resumed and the ball Kageyama served turned to be a chance ball for Seijoh. The ball fell into Oikawa's hands and he perfectly and accurately sets to his vice captain, allowing him to spike. The white uniformed team momentarily cheered at their first point of the day and their first years gave Oikawa showers of praises for the performance he just did. "I guess he is reliable in his own special way." You quietly whispered to yourself, subtly smiling at him.

The game resumes as usual. Aoba Johsai snatched the win for the first set and the two teams took a five minute break before resuming the match. Oikawa winks at you before running towards his bench to get a drink and to discuss tactics with his fellow teammates.

"Dude, what is up with you." Iwaizumi asked his captain after dragging him out of the crowd of resting volleyball players. "What are you talking about?" Oikawa innocently replied, casting a smile towards his childhood friend. The shorter of the two tightened his grip on his water bottle as he saw his fabricated smile. "Don't tell me you went all the way to beg the coach to set up a practice match with Karasuno just to hit on a girl." Iwaizumi sighed as he came to the realization of his best friend's intentions, "I know you're a bit messed up in your head but this is the first time I've seen you go this far just to get a girl's attention." He started, putting his hand on his captain's shoulder but before he could go on any further, a whistle was blown, commencing the start of the next set. Oikawa slyly grinned, mentally thanking the referee for getting him out of a lecture and started to jog back to the court. "Just quit staring at her, I'm sure blondie over there already got a hint on what you're after." The Seijoh ace whispered to the captain, averting his gaze from a not so happy Tsukishima, who was trying to look at Oikawa dead in the eye.

6:00 PM

The two schools managed to finish two three set games by the time the sun has already begun to set. Fortunately, Karasuno was able to win a game which means each Seijoh and Karasuno won three sets by the end of the day. This improvement left a happier and satisfied impression with the Karasuno team which made you happy as well, seeing them so proud with their performance.

Everyone was already outside, getting ready to board the bus back home and were all noisily discussing the match. Knowing how immature and irresponsible the boys can be, Shimizu took it upon herself to take a quick scan of Seijoh's gym to make sure none of them left any of their belongings like the responsible manager she is but, you stopped her as you felt bad that you didn't do nearly as much work as she has done. You told her not to worry and to save you a seat on the bus before running back into the gym.

You knew the boys were exhausted from the intense and long rallies they had throughout the game so they were dying to go back home to get a proper rest so, you sprinted into the gym and attempted to get back to the bus as fast as you can.

You scanned the floors for any familiar bags and the area where you and Shimizu sat and realized that nothing was left behind. You turned sharply after checking under the benches and expected to see the view of the gym's polished wooden floors but all you can see was pitch black nothingness as your face made "thud" noise.

"Y/N-chan?" The wall you just collided with spoke. You raised your head quickly in embarrassment as you realized you just ran into Oikawa, to be specific, ran into his torso. You shifted your gaze from his white uniformed abdomen to the confused look he was wearing on his face.

You were speechless. You didn't know what to say or do. A million thoughts are running through your head, attempting to find ways to cope with the embarrassing act you've just done but a laugh interrupted your thinking. "Man, Y/N-chan, you gotta be more careful from now on! What if you did this to Mad Dog-chan? He'd bite your head off!" He chuckled as he patted your head softly. You stared at him in disbelief, trying to piece your thoughts together as your whole face turned red. All you could say was "sorry" in the midst of his fits of laughter.

"But I'm glad I was able to bump into you alone Y/N! Metaphorically and physically." He said as he finally calmed down, his face beaming at yours. "W-Why?" You stammered, still not over what just happened. Oikawa bent down close to your left ear promptly, not giving you time to fluster over his abrupt move. He was so close you could feel his warm breath on the left side of your neck. "Well afterall, I did arrange all this just so I could see you again." His voice soothed. You felt your surroundings go mute again, just like the last time you saw him. Without skipping a beat, he continued. "Y/N-chan." His voice was deeper than usual, a serious tone draped over your name. Without realizing, you held your breath in anticipation of his next words.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

You turned your head to face him. A date? The captain of Seijoh's volleyball team is asking you on a date? Everything felt surreal and the whole world seemed to spin. Your breathing was deep and slow as your gaze met his sickly sweet smile.

You were ecstatic. Never in a million years, you would've thought your classic case of unrequited love and admiration would turn up like a protagonist's love story in a shojo manga. Your heart was beating so fast, it felt like it could leap out of your throat. You wanted to scream yes immediately, however a series of coughs from the entrance of the gym interrupted the golden moment you were experiencing.

Both you and Oikawa, whose bodies were an inch apart, diverted your attention to the tall blonde boy leaning against the door, just a few steps away from where you were.

"We're waiting for you, Y/N."

next: -ˏˋ chapter five ˊˎ-

previous: -ˏˋ chapter three ˊˎ-

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