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sl-ut · 1 year

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buzzed

pairing: marc spector x fem!reader

description: marc is lucky enough to accompany y/n to her cousin’s wedding, and even luckier to be the one to take her home. (this is sister fic to 'tipsy' but can be read as a standalone)

warnings: no smut but definitely nsfw, alcohol consumption, swearing, talk of weddings

words: 3.1K

date posted: 27/02/23

The wedding was beautiful, in the unreasonably expensive, terribly stuffy kind of way. Marc tried his best to not show it too much on his face, but this wedding was the exact opposite of anything he wanted to have if–when he and Y/n finally settled down. He’d decided that he didn’t want anything big, hell, he’d be happy with a quick visit to the courthouse before a weeklong honeymoon on a beach somewhere. But he knew that wouldn’t fly with Y/n, or more specifically, with her family, so he would settle with a small ceremony and reception before he got to steal her away.

He did have to compliment the newly wedded couple on their choices of His and His cocktails; Y/n’s cousin opting for the classic negroni, while his new husband made the much more intricate choice of a fruity white sangria, both of which Y/n had taken great pleasure in sampling before she kicked off her shoes and took to the dancefloor.

Marc enjoyed seeing her this free–it was something he got to see all too rarely. Her job had been a consistent thorn in the boys’ side since she’d gotten her most recent promotion. As the tour supervisor at a tour company based in London, Y/n figured that she would have been able to explore her chosen field of history on an everyday basis, though she was sorely disappointed when she discovered that she rarely would get to interact with the centuries of conflict and victories that the city faced when she was jammed into a smothering hot office and berated for making any complaints or requests. Steven had been the first to encourage her to hand in her notice of resignation, but he was very heartily supported by his alters, who both promised to support her until she was able to get back on her feet. Jake would then remind her that she’d earned her Master’s degree for good reason and would soon enough be drowning in job offers–a fantasy, which they were all aware of, but the boys were more than willing to say whatever she needed to hear when she needed to hear it.

Right now, Marc was willing to tell her that she was dancing wonderfully and that she wasn’t being stared at like she had two heads by most of the other wedding guests just to see her smile just as she was for just one moment longer. The cocktails that she’d drank caught up to her quickly; her cheeks burned hotter than usual, eyes hooded, and a smile appearing lazy on her face as she whirled around the dancefloor with various relatives.

Marc smiled to himself, ignoring the other who pushed past him to lean on the bartop as he quickly became entranced by her. She halted on a moment’s notice, the flowy shirt of her dress fanning and twisting itself tightly around her hips before falling limp once again. Her body turned quickly as her eyes scanned the crowd, first falling on his empty seat at their assigned table before they began to flicker across the room hurriedly. A calm expression crossed her features once she finally picked him out of the crowd, only lasting a moment before the grin returned and she began her beeline towards him.

He began forward through the crowd to shorten her journey, dropping his now empty glass on a random table as he passed. She stumbled into his arms with enough force to cause him to take a step back, giggling to herself as she wrapped herself around him snugly.

“I was just looking for you,” she slurred slightly, gazing up at him with a starry look in her eyes, “Thought you left me.”

“Leave you?” He scoffed, hands rising to rest on her waist to hold her steady, “Baby, you gotta give me a little more credit here, I’m not that stupid.”

She laughed, leaning closer and nudging her nose into his a bit more roughly than she would have had she been sober. He did his best to hide any surprise on his face, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Come dance with me,” she tugged his wrist, “I love this song.”

“I know you do, but you know I’m not much of a dancer.”

She frowned, “Marc, please?”

“You don’t want me up there, I’ll end up crushing your pretty feet. Why don’t you go dance with your aunt again, huh?”

“I can’t,” Y/n whined, voice lowering into a whisper, “She’s such a bitch.”

He let out a loud huff of amusement because, though he’d not voiced his opinion because Y/n had always had a good relationship with her aunt, he wholeheartedly agreed.

“Please?” She begged his, grasping at the lapels of his jacket and shaking him lightly, “If you do, I’ll–” Y/n tucked herself against him as she whispered breathily into his ear, painting a foggy image in his mind of what she could offer in return.

The tips of his ears burned in arousal, breathes deepening as his grip on her waist tightened. She snorted at his physical response, ripping herself out of his grasp and slowly backing away from him towards the dance floor, seductively shaking her hips to the beat as she did. He scowled at her playfully, remaining rooted in his place.

Pursing her lips, she slowly turned, continuing to move her hips from side to side. Marc groaned to himself, but still didn’t take any steps towards her.

If you don’t, Jake grumbled to him through the reflection of the glossy window pane next to him, I most certainly will.

The song had changed to one of a slower beat with hard bass to support it. Marc already knew that, combined with the light push of the alcohol in his bloodstream and the way that her body moved along with the melody, he stood no chance, his feet already moving before he was even fully aware of it.

His hands landed on her hips while she had her back turned, pressing his chest against her back snugly and pausing her movements. She smiled at him over her shoulder, tilting her head back to press a kiss to his jaw.

“I knew you’d break,” she smirked knowingly up at him, glazed eyes twinkling with mischief, “Well, you or Jake. Steven’s not much of a dancer.”

Marc smiled, sliding his flattened palms around to the front of her dress and smoothing them along the plush of her belly, “You know us better than we do. It’s scary.”

“I bet,” she hummed, turning in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck, “But it’s not as hard as you might think, you all have a tell.”

“Oh yeah, what’s mine?”

“Well, then you would stop doing it, huh?”

“Or maybe you could learn to have some more faith in me, baby.”

“I’ll do that when you two start telling the truth every once in a while.”

“Two?”

“Steven snitches on you two every chance he gets.”

Kiss ass, Jake grumbled.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be honest with our girlfriend, Steven defended himself, though it did nothing to stop Jake’s verbal assault. ‘Sides, I’m the one who she wants around when you twits do something stupid.

Marc shook his head, ignoring their bickering as he brought himself back into the present, heart clenching as he took in the dreamy stare that watched him so closely.

“Are they fighting?” Y/n whispered, trying to not make her boyfriend seem crazy in front of her relatives.

“When aren’t they?” He joked, “Jake called Steven a kiss ass.”

“Well he’s not wrong,” she shrugged, turning her gaze to the impossibly clean window pane along the edge of the dancefloor, “Steven, baby, you know I love it when you kiss my ass.”

A cough forced its way out of Marc’s windpipe with force, a result of a laugh that he had not been physically prepared for. He cleared his throat, “Do you now? What about me?”

Y/n scoffed, “You don’t kiss my ass. You quite literally do anything but.”

“I would if you really wanted me to,” he leaned closer to rest his forehead against hers, his voice lowering to get his message across.

The muscles in Y/n’s face tightened as she realised the meaning of his words, shaking her head at him as she began to giggle nervously, “Maybe someday. You’d have to give me a little warning ahead of time though. If we’re doing that, we’re doing it right.”

“I wasn’t aware that there was a right and a wrong way.”

She shrugged, “Well, I mean there’s a right and wrong way for the other stuff, at least there is for me.”

“I guess so,” he nodded, “Wait–what’s the right way?”

She chuckled, “Trust me, if you didn’t already know, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

One of his palms smoothed down the small of her back, pausing at the curve of her behind and massaging the flesh within his meaty paw.

“You’re starting to sound a little superficial there, baby. You saying that you’re only with us for the sex?”

She shook her head, “No, no, of course not. Steven is so smart and sweet, and he’s very funny. Jake's got this sexy little mysterious thing going on, plus he’s very romantic. And you…” she paused, a small smirk growing on her features, “Well, maybe I’m with you for the sex.”

He dug his fingertips into her flesh a bit harder, feeling her warm skin pool out between his thick digits. She squirmed in his grasp, pressing herself closer to him than she would have been comfortable with had she been completely sober, but did not ask him to remove himself.

“That so?”

“You’re very talented,” she hummed, raking her fingertips down the back of his neck, “Grumpy, sometimes a little mean, and you hog the blankets, but talented all the same.”

“Well maybe me and my talents will go elsewhere,” he loosened his grip, preparing to let her go and watch her scramble to be closer to him once more, though she didn’t even give him the chance.

Fingers curling around the lapels of his jacket, she held him in place, “Elsewhere… as in our hotel room? Because I wouldn’t exactly be complaining.”

Marc laughed, “Maybe, maybe not. I might need some convincing to stay, now that I know that I’m just some glorified booty call.”

Y/n leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his own while refusing to break eye contact. His breathing laboured as she invaded his personal space even more so than she already had, watching through hooded eyes as she nudged her nose against his playfully and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I could convince you. You wanna go to the bathroom?”

Marc broke his facade, bursting out laughing at her question as she fell victim to her own giggles. The pair must have looked foolish–standing in the middle of the dancefloor, neither of them actually dancing and just laughing maniacally at one another and acting as if no one else in the extravagantly decorated ballroom even existed.

The upbeat music began to slow, and the other dancers on the floor paired off into a slow dance. Marc easily recognized the song; he’d heard Y/n singing it countless times in the shower, while she was cooking, and even sometimes in her sleep. She wouldn’t necessarily classify it as her favourite, but Marc was positive that it was a pretty damn close second.

“Hang on, baby,” He spun her into his arms and held her tightly to his chest, hands settling on her waist as he began to move the both of them into a slow, simple, side-to-side motion, “Just one more dance.”

She nodded softly in agreement, resting her forehead on his shoulder, “One more dance.”

They stayed like that for the majority of the song, swaying side-to-side lazy while they remained entirely wrapped up in one another’s arms. Occasionally Marc would nuzzle his nose into her hair or press a soft kiss to her temple, and she would respond each time with a squeeze and a kiss of her own pressing into his shoulder.

“You know I love you, right?”She whispered as she pulled back slightly, staring up at him as if he’d hung the stars in the sky, “I love all three of you the same, you guys know that, but right now I’m just–”

“I know,” He silenced her with the gentle press of his lips to her own, “I know baby. We all do.”

Tell her I love her too.

“Steven says that he thinks you smell weird and snore. Babe, I think you should dump his ass, personally.”

Steven blubbered out a protest, all strung together and slurred as he struggled to make a solid threat to the man who currently had control over their body.

She frowned, “Tell Steven that I love him too, and that he’s quickly becoming my favourite.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again, “This is really nice and all, but I think I really just want a small little thing for our wedding.”

Marc chuckled, “Our wedding? I didn’t realise that I’d asked you yet.”

They hadn’t explicitly spoken about the prospect of marriage yet. Of course, she had spoken to all three of the boys about what kind of future they had envisioned for themselves, and all three had enthusiastically told her that she was certainly in it, but marriage was a complicated thing in itself, not to mention how it would fair when one woman had married three different men who all shared the same body.

Would she marry Marc? It technically was his body to begin with, but Steven had controlled the body probably just as long as Marc did, all things considered, and Jake would never allow such an argument to persist without throwing his own cap in the ring. Perhaps they could be common-law, so none could be considered to be any more of her husband than the others–one small ceremony to themselves where all three boys would have the chance to read their own vows and kiss you as their wife for the first time. Regardless, Marc was simply glad to hear that she had been thinking about their future together.

“You haven’t, yet,” she hummed in amusement, “Jake got pretty close a few times though.”

He shook his head, “I know, asshole never stops thinking about it. If he had it his way, he’d have Steven and I locked away in the back of our mind so that he could have you all to himself.”

She raised her brow, “Not such a bad idea… maybe if I didn’t love you all so much.”

Marc smirked at her, placing a careful peck to her lips. Neither spoke another word, simply swaying side to side along with the melody, eyes locked on one another and entirely ignorant to anything else that may have been going on around them.

As the song came to a close, Y/n fluttered her eyelashes up at him, eyes glittering under the ambient lights above as she whispered to him, “Marc?”

He hummed in response.

“Take me to bed?”

He resisted the small smirk that edged its way onto his face, squeezing his fingers tighter around her waist as she trailed her hands up the front of his chest, working soft patterns into the fabric of his suit. He leaned closer to her, his voice meeting her ears in a low grumble, “Go say goodbye and meet me at the door, I’ll grab your coat.”

Marc Spector was nothing if not efficient, making his way through the crowd with expertise that only an enhanced individual might have, finding his way to the coat check area while making sure that Y/n was always within his line of sight. He watched from the corner of his eye as she hugged each of the grooms, then one of her aunts, and endured an uncomfortably long and wet kiss from her uncle who had been cut off by the bartender. He slipped a five into the palm of the young man working the coat check and took off, stealing Y/n away from her family members before they had a chance to stop him.

Y/n giggled at him, slipping her coat on with ease and allowing him to guide her out through the front doors and cross the street to the hotel that they were staying at. Once they were in the privacy of the moving elevator, she made quick work of unbuttoning his jacket so that she could slide her palms across his firm midsection and pressed herself against him as she began to nip and kiss up the expanse of his thick neck. He groaned under her touch, leaning his back against the wall and gliding his own palms around the back of her neck to pull her in for a long, passionate kiss.

She sighed into him, pushing her hips forward to rock against his own and giggling girlishly as she bumped the tent that had begun to form in his pants. He hissed at the contact, hands pulling her face away from his own so that he could stare directly into her eyes.

“How are you feeling, baby?”

“I think you already know how I’m feeling.”

He rolled his eyes, “I mean, are you sober enough for this? You had a lot to drink today.”

She shrugged, “No more than you.”

“I’m also not a lightweight.”

“Oh please,” She scoffed, swatting his chest lightly, “I’m a little buzzed at most, I’m totally fine.”

“You’re sure?”

Y/n grinned, stepping away from him as the elevator doors slid open. She slowly backed away from him, turning on her heel and calling out to him over her shoulder, “I can always take care of myself, if you don’t feel up for it.”

#moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #marc spector #marc spector fic #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x reader #mcu

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hesperantha · 1 year

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⁖Title: multitudes ⁖Characters: Jungkook x female OC, reader (any gender) ⁖Genre: family au. non-idol au. ⁖Rating: general ⁖Words: 1.3k ⁖Warnings: reader has an adult child who is married to Jungkook. Past death of a pet referenced. Neurodivergent character (unspecified; discussed). Manic episode. ⁖Summary: You can trust him with your heart. ⁖AN: For T, who shines burning-bright. Thanks to @sugalaritae and Jester for beta reading. Sequel to prom date

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

“She went out for a run, Coach.”

Jungkook’s words are simple, but the tone is all wrong. His calling you “coach” had started as a joke when you pulled him aside to talk him through how he would propose to her, but it stuck around and the way he says it now is with both respect and worry, as if he’s lost something precious of yours and is terrified of the consequences.

“When?” you ask. Where is pointless. If he knew, he wouldn’t be calling you.

“Early. Around four, if I had to guess.”

“And you didn’t stop her?” You know he’s not her keeper, but it shouldn’t be that hard to just—

“I was mostly asleep. Just saw her putting on her running shoes and headband and figured I’d snooze until she was back. I don’t think I really realized the time. Not until I woke up later, anyway.”

Fuck, you think. Four hours. In four hours she could have run all the way to the nature preserve, around the lake. She could be deep in the woods or, just as easily, in the heart of the city, slipped into a café or down an alley.

It isn’t the first time.

“I already drove around the neighborhood,” Jungkook is saying, “and up to the reservoir.”

“Hang on,” you say, setting down the phone so you can tie your shoes. You don’t know what you’re going to do next, but it will probably require shoes, so it feels like the right choice. It feels like doing something useful. You can picture your son-in-law sitting high on the seat of his Tahoe, peering out the windshield, one hand raised to shield his eyes from the sunrise. He probably drove around for a good hour before calling you for help.

Not that you can do anything else.

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

Jungkook meets you outside your house, idling in your driveway as you lock the door behind you and then, on second thought, unlock it just in case she turns up and needs to get inside. Stranger things have happened, after all.

“So I was thinking we split up,” he says, not even waiting for you to greet him in person.

“Wait,” you say. “Slow down. Was there any warning this time or did she just get up and go?”

He toys with his wedding ring, fidgeting as he thinks through your question. “Last night she was maybe a little keyed up. Not fully manic, but excited. Telling me about a kind of deep-sea mollusk that had just been discovered. Her eyes–you know the look.”

You do, after all, know it well. You’ve known it since she first opened them twenty-six years ago. That fire behind them, burning white-hot. The scream that went with it, piercing and furious. And you’ve seen it over and over again when she’s taken by an impulse when you would have wished her to be more cautious.

Wished her to be, you remind yourself again, is irrelevant. She simply is, burning-bright, rage and wonder and joy and everything so big. So loud. So much. You never want her to shrink to less, but at the same time–

You’re tired. You’ve been tired for a long, long time.

You’re trying to keep up with Jungkook as he tells you what they talked about last night, how the conversation jumped from mollusks to ostracods to a pinpoint memory of something said in anger one weekend in college, what she was wearing then, holding then, drinking then. To the vote in Tennessee, protests both past and current. To the Devonian System. To teeth: her teeth, his teeth, shark teeth. Carnivorous plants, and the poaching thereof. To the venus flytrap sea anemone. To the cat you had when she was seven, Sweaters, dearly departed, who you haven’t thought of in years. How she cried about Sweaters over styrofoam containers of delivered curry, then leapt up, determined to make a memorial.

“How?” you ask.

“How what, Coach?”

“How can you remember it? How can you keep up?”

“I don’t know, Coach. I just do. I’m sure I’m missing something else important–some big life skill or something just to make brainspace for it–but this stuff doesn’t stress me. I can listen to it for hours and remember it all.”

You’re so thankful for him. For the man he is. For the qualities he takes for granted. For being someone you can trust with your heart. You want to show him how much he means to you so you pull him to you in a hug, tight and grateful.

“Hey,” he says, patting you on the back. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll find her.”

You realize he thought you were breaking.

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

The two of you end up driving together rather than splitting up. You watch as his hands grip the wheel, tattooed knuckles blanching white. You feel small in the passenger seat, an outside observer even though he pulled you in. Jungkook looks at home in the massive seat, anxious but determined as he decides where to go, following routes that she might have taken hours ago, reaching destinations he knows she’s been before.

There has to be a clue.

You think back through what Jungkook told you about the previous night, trying to find the missing pieces. How, you puzzle, did she go from memorializing Sweaters to taking off in the dark of the morning?

“Did she go to sleep or did she stay up and actually make a memorial?” you ask.

“She started. Gathered up some photos, some scraps of paper and fabric and some knitting stuff.”

“Knitting stuff?”

“Yarn. Needles or hooks or whatever. You know.”

“Did she have a pattern?” You sense a theory floating in the ether, just beyond your grasp.

Jungkook pauses before answering. “I don’t know,” he confesses.

“Does she usually show you if she does?”

“Yes,” he says with absolute certainty. “Therefore…no.”

“Where did she leave the stuff she was working on?”

“I–” he stops, horrified. “I didn’t see it this morning. She must have taken it with her.”

You can picture her now, feet shoved in her pink running shoes, jacket zipped up to her chin, her hair scraped into a tight ponytail. And you can picture the ball of yarn stuffed into one armpit, scraps of paper covered with doodles and glue pinned under the other arm. Tight and safe.

The last thing to picture now is where she would need to go with it.

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah, Coach?”

“Did she say where Sweaters died?”

“No.”

“Take a left up ahead.”

ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅇ

You navigate, guiding him across town to the house she grew up in, where she stored treasures in the cubbyhole under the stairs, where her height was marked on the kitchen door frame every year. The porch where you first saw him looking both terror-stricken and, inexplicably, worthy.

There.

She’s there, pink shoelaces untied, ponytail askew, yarn strung up between the trees in your old front yard. You don’t need a yard like that now, don’t have the back for mowing like you used to. The memories are strong here, though, and as you watch her hook a tidy loop of yarn through a hole in the top of a photo, you have to admit that having left it behind also meant leaving behind the memories attached to it.

She hasn’t seen you yet. Jungkook parks on the street. You reach for the door handle and get out, walk toward her, call her name.

He’s faster. She turns and goes to him, safe in his arms. You’re barely a glance over his shoulder, a smile as she meets your eyes confirming that she’s all right.

He holds her as you pick up the pieces, gathering the photos and yarn, the little felt mice with their knotted string tails, the crumpled quilting cotton. It’s all precious to her so you smooth it out on the seat next to you when you settle into the backseat of the Tahoe, ready to hand it over to someone worthy of holding it.

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#jungkook fanfic #possumswrite

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inkpens-coffee · 1 year

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Maruki Week - Day 3 🍎

Special Occasion / Memories / Emotions

Today could’ve been a normal day; showering, making breakfast, dragging Ren out of bed so he could eat and watching TV together. Then Takuto checked his mail and found a little flower-decorated card.

It was a wedding invitation. Rumi was getting married.

Of course the first thing Takuto did was search up her fiancé online; the man was a handsome, wealthy business owner. Way more successful than a failed scientist, that was for sure.

Takuto felt overwhelmed. There's no reason he wouldn't be happy for Rumi. It was good that she was finally moving on with someone better than him. But the urge to cry and scream was so strong that it hurt. He didn’t realize how long he was staring at the invitation until it was swiped out his hand.

“Are you gonna go?” Ren stood behind him, bacon hanging out of his mouth.

“Hmm…”

“Maruki.”

“I don’t…”

“MARU.”

Takuto whined and dropped his head in his hands. “There’s no way I got that invitation on purpose! It’s a mistake! Or a joke! I’m gonna walk into that wedding and everyone is going to laugh at me and rub Rumi’s perfect, successful husband in my face!”

“Hm. Sounds kinky.”

“You know what I meant!” Takuto exclaimed, cheeks turning red. Ren hopped over the couch to sit beside him, swallowing his bacon and tossing the card onto to coffee table.

“You’re overthinking. Maybe she really does want you at her wedding. Why would she pull something like that?”

“Because I’m her pathetic ex that ruined her life, her sisters HATE me and her new husband might kill me if he knows how I hurt her!”

“Don’t you think you’re being the tiniest bit dramatic?”

Truthfully he did. Takuto and Rumi already met up plenty of times, one time was to talk about separating. It was never a problem for Takuto when she talked about dating other people. All he could think about was how painful watching her get married would be.

All the happy memories they made together… trying couple activities, cooking new recipes and laughing when they went wrong, getting presents for each other at the holidays.

Proposing to her.

Takuto spent a month planning it, spent half his savings on an engagement ring and asked the question in a beautiful flower garden. Did her new fiancé do something even better? Did he buy her better ring with a bigger diamond? This time a tear falls down his cheek and Takuto doesn’t bother to stop it.

“Get out of your head, Mooks.” Ren’s voice snapped him out his thoughts.

“Ah! Sorry!”

Ren grabbed the TV remote and laid himself across Takuto’s lap. He stroked Ren’s soft hair as he scrolled through shows on Netflix.

“Want me to go to the wedding with you?” Ren asked.

“Would you…?”

“Yeah, I like Rumi-Chan. And I’m not missing out on free cake and a reason to wear my sexy heels.”

“You don’t need a reason, you wore heels to the grocery store last week.”

“And I was the sexiest bitch in the produce aisle.”

Takuto laughed out loud at Ren’s response, the boy staring up at him with his smug little cat grin. He was always making him laugh.

Ren chose some goofy anime to watch and they settled in for a lazy afternoon. Takuto’s eyes drifted back to the wedding invitation now and then, the date and details burning into his memory. The wedding was going to be in Okinawa in two months. Rumi’s always wanted to go there. Her fiancé was really giving her wedding of her dreams.

“Damn it, I can’t stop thinking about cake now.” Ren pouted. “Can we go get some cake? I need some fluffy sweet sugar or I’ll literally die!”

“Who’s being dramatic now?”

“Tsk. Touché.”

“Alright, we can go.”

Ren grinned victoriously and got up to get his shoes on. Takuto stole one more glance at the wedding invitation as he stood up from the couch.

“Maybe we can find a wedding gift while we’re out.”

#Ren steals half the crab legs at the wedding #takuto maruki #ren amamiya #takutomarukiweek2023 #p5r #persona 5 royal #fanfic #roommates au

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eddie-gluskin-and-i · 10 months

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Cora deeply exhaled once she was alone again.

She removed her shoes first before heading up to the bathroom in stockinged feet.

Tonight she eschewed the shower and took to the claw footed bathtub that had been in the house for more than four decades.

It had looked big enough to bathe an elephant when she was a child. Now it looked big enough to baptize a baby elephant, even as an adult.

She was still deathly silent as she filled the tub, before adding *two* bath bombs - a rare indulgence.

She disrobed and slipped inside slowly. Then she submerged her head- and screamed all her emotions into the water and foam.

Everything had happened so fast, so soon, beyond any control she assumed she possessed.

Hadn't she learnt a thing from her last whirlwind infatuation?

This new feeling could go anywhere…it could be a wonderful thing for the ages, or go down in flames.

Did she just leap from the frying pan into the inferno? Or did she fall from Heaven and into Hell's warm arms?

She remained underwater until Air required her to come up.

She silently watched the water spiral down the drain, wishing her confusion would disappear just as easily.

As she slipped on a black slip and collapsed into bed, she whispered a prayer for wisdom, grace …and Eddie. ^^^^ Two weeks later found her driving to town on her day off. She didn't make an appointment, as she wanted her visit to be a surprise. After all, she just wished to pay a visit to Satine- and thank Eddie for dinner- and how he ended the evening. She touched her lips in remembrance, as if the heat from his lips still burned like a loving brand, and blushed as she realized she had accidentally smeared her lipstick, a scarlet brand across her fingertips. She laughed and reapplied her lipstick, before stepping out of her parked car and heading towards the establishment in question. A bell sweetly announced her entrance, but she noticed Eddie was speaking to two women, clearly a mother and daughter duo, and so decided to look around the interior. Satine had an elegant, vintage feel, and from what she could see, Eddie seemed to specialize in mature and sophisticated gowns and suits. Most usually ended up looking retro at best, dated at worst, but the man clearly had skill and talent aplenty. *I should have a dress or two tailored by him- as way of thanks...*

Cora snuck a glance at the two women at the cash register. Eddie said something she couldn’t quite make out, but whatever it was made the two burst out in a fit of giggles. There was that effortless charm at work.

As she waited for them to finish, she busied herself with the dresses on display in front of her. Wedding dresses. They looked like something fit for a queen, with intricate lace and beaded bodices and perfectly cut swaths of silk that fell in clean silhouettes on the mannequins.

The bell trilled again, and the women soon left with one last glance back at the charismatic tailor behind the counter.

“Cora,” a surprised voice called out - a voice as smooth as the finest silk.

She turned around, and was met with the most disarming of smiles. This man would be the death of her.

“Hey,” she said with a wave, then gestured to the window display. “They’re beautiful, the dresses.”

Eddie looked on proudly at his work. “Thank you. Though their beauty is hardly noticeable with you standing next to them.”

Cora scoffed. “Does that actually work with the ladies?” She turned around to stroll down the other side of the store. And to hide the slight flush in her cheeks.

“I’m afraid you see right through me, Cora. Can’t say I’m surprised.” He leaned forward to rest on his elbows, eyes following her every move as she explored the story each tailor-made dress told.

“So what brought you to this part of town? Certainly not just me?”

She could hear the cheeky smirk in his voice.

“Just in town,” she lied. “But I did want to stop by to thank you.”

“Oh? What for?”

Cora emerged from the rows of dresses and came up to the counter. Walking towards him had been like walking against some invisible force warning her not to do it. Now, finally face to face again, all caution had been thrown to the wind and she felt an irresistible pull to him. Why did he have to look at her like that?

“The other night was… I had a great time with you, and it meant a lot to me. All of it. You really are a gentleman, you know that?”

Eddie studied her curiously but didn’t push any further. He only smiled. “It was my pleasure. I enjoyed it too. In fact, I enjoyed it so much I just might have to ask you out on a second date.” He raised a brow in question.

#eddie gluskin #mr gluskin responds #outlast whistleblower #outlast #ask blog #rp #story time #cora

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 years

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The Other Evans Girl [Part Fifty Three]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black/Original Female Character, Sirius Black/Daisy Evans, James Potter/Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black,

Word Count: 3103

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many. But it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sister’s as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Tags/ Warnings: My Writing, The Other Evans Girl, Sirius Black Fic, Sirius Black/You, Sirius Black x OFC, OFC, Marauders Fic, Eventual Sirius Black, Sirius Black x Reader Fic, Sirius Black Fic, James Potter is a bit of a dick but we LOVE it, Hogsmeade, Friends, Hate, Love, Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Implied Sex, Potters, Babies, Weddings, Dating, Friends to Loves, Slow Burn, Eventual Sirius and Daisy, Teenage Angst, Insecurities, Fighting, Arguing, Bullying, War, First Wizarding War, Marauders, Marauder’s Era, 1970’s, 1970s Fashion, Canon Character Deaths, Loss of Virginity, Crying, Voldemort, The Other Evans Girl, Marauders Era to war, Multiple Parts, GORE, injuries, harm, fighting, blood, The Potter’s Mansion // Daisy’s Dress // NYE Lily’s Dress // NYE Daisy’s Dress // Lily’s Ring // Daisy’s Ring

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS //

TAGS - @maeisafangirl

When Daisy got out of bed on Friday she was feeling a lot better than she had been at the start of the week. Her Christmas presents had really cheered her up even if her friends hadn’t. Though she hadn’t seen the boys, Lily or Alice she had managed to spend an evening with Marlene whose new beau had decided to enrol in gobstones club much to her annoyance. They had spent the evening listening to Daisy’s new albums and talking about her friends' new romance. It was nice for Daisy. Another escape out of the feelings that had been overwhelming when alone.

‘Have we got an apparition lesson today?’ Daisy asked with a yawn as she slipped on her socks one at a time. ‘Yeah after lunch,’ Lily said, ‘haven’t you been revising?’ ‘What’s to revise?’ Daisy said. ‘It’s a very important skill,’ Lily chastised. ‘You disappear in one place you reappear in another and try not to get cut in half in the meantime,’ Daisy said as she slipped on her shoes. As she bent down her ring slipped from her finger and onto the stone floor with a metallic tinkle. Lily looked up and watched as her sister picked up the gold band and forced it back onto her slim finger. ‘You opened your presents,’ Lily said. It wasn’t accusatory but it wasn’t a statement either. The redhead watched as her sister's large green eyes, so like her own, landed on her freckled face. ‘Yeah…’ Daisy said dropping her gaze, ‘I found them the other day..figured it was time for opening them.’ ‘Are you okay?’ Lily said, as Daisy looked at her sister once more she could see the fear in her twin’s eyes. Evidently, the fear that her sister was going to break down at any moment was still going strong in Lily. ‘Yeah,’ Daisy lied reiterating with more force as her sister's stare turned sceptical, ‘yes Lily I’m fine. Besides it wasnt as if it was a horrible thing to find, actually, it was kind of nice.’ ‘They’re lovely rings aren't they,’ Lily said her hand going to a chain around her neck, one that Daisy hadn’t noticed her sister had been wearing but now as she looked she could see a thin gold chain with her sister’s matching ring around it. ‘Why didn’t you?’ ‘It fits,’ Lily said, ‘I just didn't want to upset you if-’ ‘I saw what mum and dad got us,’ Daisy finished. Lily shrugged, ‘I think that’s a good idea. Mine’s a little loose and it keeps slipping off I might put it on my chain.’ ‘Glad I could help,’ Lily said with a smile.

The pair continued to get dressed in comfortable silence. Alice was already down at breakfast with Frank and Marlene had said something about a gobstones meeting. It seemed Pierre was good-looking enough for her to feign interest. Once they were ready the pair made their way downstairs to find Remus and James in the common room chatting quietly though they stopped as soon the girls came towards them.

‘Morning Evanses,’ James said with a smile which overtook Remus’ polite ‘good morning’. ‘Morning Prongs what’s got you so chipper?’ Daisy asked. ‘It’s defence club day,’ James said. ‘And?’ Daisy said. ‘Have you got some big cool spell you want to show off?’ Lily said rolling her eyes. ‘Me? Show off?’ James scoffed, ‘How dare you, Lily!’ ‘Go on then, why are you all excited?’ Daisy asked. They were walking now, having just ducked out of the portrait hole on their way to breakfast. ‘You’ll just have to wait and see,’ James winked. As they made their way to the great hall he broke into a tale about a jinx he had been learning for the club but had yet to perfect as it somehow kept causing his target (Peter) to end up with duck feet.

‘I’ve always thought he had sort of a waddle to his gait,’ Remus chuckled as the four sat down next to Alice and Frank who were going over Auror Exam practice questions but said hello nevertheless. ‘No he’s definitely rat-like,’ Daisy said, ‘anyway where is the waddled one? Or Sirius for that matter?’ ‘Um,’ James said faltering as he looked at Remus and though it was only for a second Daisy caught it, ‘gobstones meeting.’ ‘And Sirius?’ Daisy said knowing that they weren’t technically lying but it would only be Peter who was there. ‘He didn’t say,’ Remus shrugged as he poured milk into his cup of tea. Daisy nodded as if she wasn’t curious and started pouring herself some orange juice as her mind pondered where he was.

She had no idea what was going on between them he constantly blew hot and cold. That was why she liked Michael. Though he wasn't Sirius he was a very nice guy and he’d been upfront about liking her. He’d even asked if she wanted to go to Hogsmede together though she had declined. Secretly she was hoping Sirius might say something about her and Michael but he’d disappeared so quickly she doubted he’d even noticed them flirting. See, hot and cold.

Everyone seemed to be convinced they were meant to be but just when she thought he might like her, he’d change tact and she’d be more at a loss than ever. It didn’t help that whenever she did feel something it hurt so much she never wanted to feel anything again. That was one of the good things about Michael. She only felt good things around him. Happy things. And it was nice to be in the company of someone who didn’t constantly worry that she was going to crumble into a million pieces.

But happy feelings just weren't the same. They were nice but they weren't really, well, much of anything. When she thought of Sirius she thought of warmth. How she felt safe whenever he was near her. Comfortable in herself. Those feelings would appear whenever he looked at her but then her mind would wander to things that made her chest ache. Him leaving her, being with other girls or worse, losing him like she had her mum and dad. Once that happened it was hard to get back to the warm content feeling of before.

Maybe it was better that he was avoiding her. At least this way she didn't have to dwell on that aching feeling. As the other three at the table chattered away Daisy dutifully shovelled her breakfast in though she didn't really listen to what they were saying. When she was done she followed Lily to their first lesson of the day, double potions. Though the potion today was complex and drawn out Daisy didn’t have to do much of anything as they were required to work in pairs. Lily did all the heavy lifting with Daisy having to run to the store cupboard here and there. Though she was happy to take a back seat it did mean that her mind drifted and she thought about Sirius some more meaning that the ache in her chest refused to disappear well into mid-morning. Luckily her next two lessons were ones she had to put her mind to, defence against the dark arts and transfiguration. If anyone was going to let her slack off it wasn't going to be Professor McGonagall and so Daisy had to engage throughout all of her fourth lesson of the day. Finally, the bell rang and she was freed for Lunch. Or so she thought as she crammed her belongings into her book bag she heard Professor McGonagall’s nasal Scottish voice call her name. Bidding her friends goodbye she watched as they left the class whilst she turned and walked to the front of the room where her teacher was waiting.

‘Something wrong Professor?’ Daisy said as the last few stragglers left the class. ‘No, well not exactly,’ Professor McGonagall said as she put a piece of parchment down on the desk in front of them both. Written on the top of the piece of parchment was an A- Acceptable. ‘Is that-’ ‘Last week’s homework assignment. And whilst this is an okay grade and still a pass this is not the level of work I’ve come to expect from you. You’re far more capable than this. Am I still to believe you want to go into healing?’ ‘Yes Professor,’ Daisy said though she wasnt sure what she wanted any longer. ‘Then you’re going to need to improve your grades in this class as well as others. From what I’ve heard from other teachers your grades are slipping there as well and why I know why I can’t help but worry. You’re better than this.’ ‘I know professor it’s just been a bit hard is all,’ Daisy said. ‘I understand. But I just can't stand by and not mention it. You deserve to make yourself proud…your parents too,’ Professor McGonagall said. Daisy nodded feeling tears sting her eyes as they did all too often these days. After a brief smile, McGonagall dismissed her student who fled from the room as quick as her legs could carry her. She was down three flights of stairs before she even looked up from her feet the tears finally subsiding and her vision becoming clear.

And as she looked up she spotted a familiar sight at the end of the corridor. Sirius. He was standing leaning against the wall one foot resting against it his arms crossed across his chest. He was chuckling away, his eyes glinting in the sunlight that was just barely coming in through the hallway window. And in front of him. Penny Fulton. She stood laughing at something he had just said her hand resting on his folded arms as if propping herself up to stop herself from keeling over with laughter. Daisy’s aching feeling came back once more. He didn’t spot her and so she decided not to reveal herself and instead walked the long way round to the dining hall. Sirius never joined them for lunch.

Daisy was in a grim mood for the rest of the day so much so she debated whether or not to duck out of the defence club. But the barrage of questions she would get from Lily was not what she wanted so she had no choice. After dinner, Lily and Daisy congregated in the entrance hall where they met Alice and Frank. Just as the five turned to leave they heard a call from behind them and found James, Peter and Remus trying to catch up with them.

‘Hang on,’ James said, ‘wait for us!’ ‘Alright James,’ Frank said with a chuckle, ‘I thought you said going in small groups was more inconspicuous.’ ‘Well, what’s the damage now Dumbledore knows?’ James smiled. Daisy’s eyes scanned the group looking for that familiar set of hazel eyes but they weren't there. As they climbed up to the attic, they met Marlene and Pierre en route. All of them chattered in hushed whispers about how excited they were to resume the club. When they got to the landing outside the attic Sirius was already there as well as Penelope Fulton. Daisy’s stomach did a small flip flop. ‘What’s Penny doing here?’ Marlene asked. ‘She asked if she can join,’ Sirius said purposefully not looking at Daisy, ‘I said she could.’ ‘And if I like it I could bring my brother and friend along. If that’s okay of course,’ Penny said. ‘Course it is,’ Frank said with a smile though Daisy didn’t miss the small dig in the ribs Alice gave him, blocked from view by Peter and Lily in front of them. ‘Great,’ Penelope said. ‘Yeah well, what are you doing outside?’ Lily said impatiently. ‘Ah, well,’ Sirius said before James took over. He stood in front of the group which had just been joined by the other members though they were forced to linger on the steps as he spoke. ‘Well, the thing is. After we cleared out the space the boy and I did some thinking. So, this week we decided to do a little…decorating,’ James said. ‘Oh good god, what have you done?!’ Lily said panicked. ‘Nothing bad,’ James said, ‘well, I hope it’s not bad.’ ‘I’d say it’s flipping brilliant!’ Remus said. ‘Well, how about you don’t keep them waiting eh?’ Sirius said. James looked at his friend and then nodded before he walked forward and opened the attic door.

People filed into the room and immediately issued an array of ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahs’. The room was transformed. The bulk of it was empty with the floor made up of soft crash mats and cushions stacked to one side. Where the tables had been was a couple of bookshelves and next to them trunks with various labels no doubt stowing away what they couldn't get rid of. And in the back of the room was what looked like a common room. There were a couple of desks with several chairs around and across from them three couches which formed sort of its own section. There was a record player in the corner currently playing some soft rock on low. And besides the couch was a table with jugs and plates of sandwiches arranged neatly. Posters littered the wall from diagrams of defensive spells to muggle bands. It was perfect.

‘Guys this is…’ Lily said trailing off before she could finish. ‘This is amazing!’ Alice squealed. ‘Did you boys do all this?’ Terry Bones said. ‘Well it was a team effort,’ James said. ‘It’s cool,’ Marlene said. ‘Thanks,’ the boys said as people looked around. Daisy stood still looking around when she felt a presence beside her it was Sirius. He smiled at her and she reciprocated. ‘So,’ she said, ‘this is what you’ve been up to all week?’ ‘Yeah…James wanted to keep it a surprise so.’ Sirius started. ‘You lied to me,’ Daisy finished. ‘Dais it wasnt a lie,’ Sirius said. ‘No, you just avoided me instead,’ Daisy said. ‘We were up here day and night-’ ‘When you weren't dating Penny of course?’ Daisy asked quietly. Sirius tried to speak but her accusation had come out of the blue and he was tripping over his words and didn't manage to reply before Daisy said, ‘thought so.’

And with that, she disappeared into the throng of people. He couldn't speak to her after that. She kept at least three people away at all times and seeing as it was Penelope’s first meeting she needed more information than the rest. Lily asked Sirius to catch her up on the basics of why the group recapped over where they were up to and then about what they wanted to learn. Remus produced a list as long as his arm as did Lily. Alice and Frank asked for some Auror spells that he had to practice which sent a shiver of excitement around the room. Even Peter had a couple of suggestions.

They went over the suggestions and made a list of what they wanted to cover which was pinned up next to the posters. Then they recapped a couple of jinxes which Penny was allowed to join in on. Eventually, yawns started becoming more frequent around the room and everyone was stuffed on the cakes the elves had provided so they decided it was time to pack up. Alice and Frank left first followed by Marlene and Pierre.

‘Tonight’s been awesome,’ Rudy Scrimgeour said as he and his friends left. ‘I’m gonna see if some of the girls want to come if that’s okay?’ Eleanor Vane said. ‘Absolutely!’ Lily said. ‘The more the merrier,’ James echoed. He and Lily were tidying away the books and rubbish that had been left by everyone. Remus and Daisy were chatting with Peter about his gobstones tournament whilst Sirius was talking to Penelope by the door. Once they had tidied up everyone got up and headed for the door. Penelope had left now and they met with Sirius who was still loitering there. Once out on the landing Daisy started quickly down the stairs hoping to avoid Sirius. Remus and Peter provided a buffer between them whilst Lily and James hung at the back. By the time they got to the common room, they realised that Lily and James were nowhere to be seen.

‘Where are they?’ Remus said turning around. ‘I don’t know,’ Sirius said looking around, ‘I thought the sound of fawning had lessened.’ ‘Har har,’ Daisy said snarkily. Before Sirius could retort the pair appeared through the portrait hole. Lily looked beet red whilst James came and walked in a sort of daze seemingly on another planet. ‘Where have you been?’ Peter said. ‘Nowhere,’ Lily said, 'we were just talking. Night all.’ ‘Night,’ the boys called as Lily dashed up the stairs and out of sight at record speed. ‘What the hell have you done?’ Daisy asked looking at James who still seemed out of it. ‘Nothing,’ James said before he winced as the back of Daisy’s hand hit his bicep, ‘honestly! We were just talking and well…I asked her out.’ ‘When don’t you?’ Sirius snorted. ‘Well, she sort of said yes,’ James said. ‘What?!’ came the reply from all. ‘Wait you’re going out?’ Remus said, ‘when?’ ‘Next week. We’re allowed to Hogsmede for Burns Night remember,’ James said. ‘Well, I can’t believe it. Well done mate,’ Peter said. ‘Yeah, I’m happy for you,’ Sirius said. ‘Me too,’ Remus agreed. Soon all eyes fell on Daisy. She wanted to congratulate them. She knew how long James had liked her sister and she knew that despite protests Lily liked him too.

‘Well, Dais? Do I get your blessing?’ James said. ‘Of course,’ she said though the happiness in her voice didn’t quite sound right, ‘anyway I’ve gotta get to bed.’ ‘Oh? I thought we could-’ James started but she didn’t wait. ‘Night,’ she said and before anyone could say anything she raced up the stairs and into her dormitory. Alice and Marlene weren't back when she got inside and from what she could hear Lily was having a shower. Daisy stripped out of her clothes and donned her pyjamas and climbed into bed. As she lay there her mind raced about everything. Her feelings for Sirius hadn't changed but had now become more complicated now she could see Penny was in the picture longer than she had thought. Not only that now Lily was going to be shacked up she felt her loneliness creep in even further. What was she going to do?

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scarlettriot · 3 years

Text

Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

#mha #bnha #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima #kirishima smut #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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parkers-gal · 3 years

Text

masterlist

requests | closed to complete current requests <3

last updated | aug 5th, 2021

do not repost my work anywhere !! respect this please. | fics are not ordered in any particular way. these headers are mine so pls don’t use/take them

tom holland

insomnia - reader can’t get to sleep; tom finds out why

driving in the rain - fluffy dinner date and rainy drive back home

workouts and warmth - when all tom wants is some after-workout cuddles

from across the living room - announcing your engagement to your families

the one - you want to move out and get your own place as a couple, but tom doesn’t. nikki talks to him.

anything for the twins - tom massages reader’s boobies during her period

moms, makeouts, and mishaps - nikki walks in during your makeout sesh

simple acts of intimacy - a fluffy 3.1k words worth of blurbs

silver surprises - the reader surprises tom at a premiere

twenty questions - questions ensue after tom & reader get stuck in an elevator

my gut - spinoff of twenty questions with claustrophobic!reader (tw/ anxiety + attacks)

stealth mode - tom & reader scaring each other

unicorns vs pegasuses - tom shuts the reader up by kissing them

a good story - tom meets reader at a meet & greet — friendships blossom to lovers

deal breaker - tom wants kids, but the reader does not

his lap - reader asks for help in overcoming an insecurity; tom misreads the situation

pool day - pool day w/ tom + the boys

hot - the reader picks a certain song that reminds her of tom - the boys go wild

grounded by rocks - tom talks about you in an interview for cherry

your hands - when all he wants is a simple head massage

late flights - in which tom takes too much time with the fans

nobody wanted to - where only one person makes it out alive

way more than 50 - the hollands trick the reader into thinking they did something they weren’t supposed to

why [ pt ii ] - sweet cupcakes, and a not so sweet breakup

what looks suspicious - nikki doesn’t exactly approve of tom dating the reader

something sweet - reader drops off small gifts while tom’s on set

he remembers - when tom finds the letter

missed you - reuniting w/tom after four long months

soft gangsta - tom tries to dress edgy; the reader is unconvinced

the shoe game - reader & tom play the shoe game at their wedding

too much - when the reader has a rough time with work, tom comforts them

losing grip [ pt ii ] - a losing battle between the reader and a hereditary disease causes heartbreak

your captain america - protective!tom holland of young reader (age gap)

sexy genius - reader is a fan of (and meets) jake gyllenhaal

teddy bear cuddles - tom wears an oversized hoodie

nonsense - the boys think the reader is meddling with tom’s work

circles before yourself - rule #2 - osterfield!reader gets caught with tom

seventeen times - when the reader is having a hard time in lock down, tom tries to help (TW // depression)

pixie dust hair - tom assures insecure!reader that the pixie haircut looks good <3

a few more months - reader passes out during a run; tw // excessive exercising

tiktok au’s

body ody ody - tom gets a little jealous over a few social media comments

sweats in the supermarket - getting tom hard when he wears sweats

put your records on - trying not to kiss each other first

mood killer - saying dirty things into tom’s ear

say it back - pranking tom by not saying ily back to him

two different ways - tom choking the reader to get two different reactions

brutal - doing the “did you mean to post this?” trend on tom

worst thirty minutes of my life - playing a drinking game with tom to see who gives into cuddles first

my girl’s cuddles - crawling into tom’s lap

even - buying hot leggings & taping tom’s reaction

goofball - a silly way to reveal reader’s pregnancy to tom

end the debate - “i found out why my boobs are small” trend

slam the car door - doing the car door prank on tom

water bottle wars - the boys ask you and tom questions about each other. wrong answers result in sprayed water

get you back real good - you & the boys prank tom after watching a scary movie

peachy - sighing / moaning in front of tom playing video games to get his reaction

my princess - tom does a tiktok where he guesses all your answers to everyday questions

dad!tom

needles and needs - when scarlet has to get shots, you realize she may not be the only one that needs comforting

all my girls - scarlet meets her baby sister for the first time (dad!tom)

everything i love about u - tom is afraid baby red might hate him for leaving home too much

a little extra help - stepdad!tom being the best dad to your daughter

through the tears - pregnant!reader goes into labour, and baby holland meets the family

first feed - tom watches you breastfeed for the first time

warmth from the love - baby holland’s first Christmas

first words - baby holland speaks for the first time

breaking the internet - when your pregnancy announcement crashes multiple apps/websites (pregnant!reader)

breaking the internet... again - when baby holland breaks the internet

boyfriends and brunch - when jade brings home her boyfriend (aged!up)

big sister + how are babies made - telling scarlet about the baby on the way (pregnant!reader)

too many kids - the reader’s dad has some commentary about the twins

mumma’s girl - tom gets jealous when scarlet isn’t a daddy’s girl

angels - a little skin to skin time with his best girl

family man - after a nasty breakup, tom finds out you had his child

cheesy uncles - telling paddy he’s going to be an uncle

ag!reader (more to come !!)

y’all really get nasty - tom and the fans discuss ag!reader’s songs

my favorite things - ag!reader performs in front of the mcu cast at the grammy’s

34 + 35 - the boys react to reader’s new song(s)

34 + 35 remix - the boys reacting to the remix

his remedy - the boys react to positions deluxe

neglected - AG!reader breaks up w tom because of their job; tom searches for answers

low-key wants him - reader talks about how much nonna (+ her fam) loves tom

see u soon - reader interacts with tom while on stage for the swt

a few spilled secrets - AG!reader performs on jimmy fallon’s show.. tom and her confess a few secrets

for the first time - when the reader breaks down crying while singing about her ex, tom is there to comfort her

dance with me, rain on me - reader has a hard time on set, tom to the rescue

every tomorrow - the first album release night after your breakup

here we go again - introducing tom (+ the boys) to your celebrity friends

condoms or safety nets - the boys react to AG!reader’s song “safety net”

we’re not engaged - AG!reader announcing to the world why they no longer have a fiance... (fluffy)

the late late show - AG!reader & tom do spill your guts or fill your guts

pain from pleasure - dad!tom goes through a birth simulator — controlled by the reader

never have i ever - tom & the reader play a game on the late late show

fluffy hair - ag!reader has a zoom interview with zach sang. tom makes an appearance

fighting off the haters - ag!reader and older!tom holland (age gap) attend an award show after going public

run your hands thru my hair - tom reacts to ag!reader’s song “my hair”

stick to acting - tom tries to make a beat for ag!reader

practically twins - reader meets sebastian & anthony at comic con

damn lucky - black!reader wears her hair naturally during an interview

what a piece - reader talks about tom related songs & tattoos

flip it - tom talks about reader in an interview

at the door - older!reader & tom fight off haters

a headcannon of ag!reader being a marvel cast member

a headcannon of tom & the reader attending the avengers endgame premiere

styles!reader (more to come !!)

bathroom kisses - makeout sessions with tom and styles!reader in the bathroom

yeah, he is - tom holland x styles!reader meet the styles family; protective older brother harry makes an appearance

unparalleled love - older brother harry styles makes a speech at reader’s wedding

grilled - date night for tom & styles!reader is a bit difficult with two kids; older brother!harry to the rescue

baby showers and brothers - dad!tom & styles!reader are going to be parents

potential boyfriend - tom has a crush on the reader when they first meet

ts!reader (more to come!!)

trust me - tom & the reader defend her after nikki doesn’t approve

your london boy - tom & co. + the world reacts to “london boy”

boy of my dreams - tom being proud of the reader for winning a grammy

rapper!tom

tom records your sounds during sex for his music (hc)

tom talks about you in an interview

concepts: one , two , three

professor!tom

my pretty girl - tom gets jealous when reader gets many valentines

other reader tropes

cherry - reader is a screenwriter for tom’s upcoming movie

no shouting - singer!reader needs some help after paparazzis are too much (based on a video of tom)

pregnancy belly - actress!reader has to wear a pregnancy belly for her role, and the boys tease tom about when it’ll be real

we march - actress!reader being a huge feminist

passions & pediatricians - pediatrician-to-be!reader meets tom

politics - reader’s granpa is joe biden (requested) and tom meets him

extra support - psychiatrist!reader helps tom on the set of cherry

you made it big - tom holland x actress!reader at the after party

partition - the boys react to famous!reader singing partition

senorita - singer!reader makes a music video with shawn, who’s tom’s new best friend

miniseries

boomerang: one , two , three , four [completed]

peter parker

making amends

➢ enemies to lovers ; college!peter x super soldier!reader ; 30k words ; sorta slow burn

cheeky guy, favorite thighs - college!peter doing a tik tok challenge — between the reader’s thighs [tik tok au]

a little nicer - doing the prank on peter (”you could’ve been a little nicer to me today”)

start searching - first make out sessions with our best boy :)

hidden hickeys - the avengers think innocence of peter, until they’re proven wrong

the team - part two of hidden hickeys; reader meets the avengers

all of you - late night talks about your future with peter :’)

like you wouldn’t believe - reader tells mj about her & peter’s awesome sex

slip from my hands - roommate!peter comforts the reader after a nightmare

i’d wait for her - college!peter parker needs to come to terms with you and your boyfriend

shut up and kiss me - soft make out sessions with peter :)

all the good things in the world, and i get you - insecure!reader needs a little reassuring

modern chivalry - peter being a gentleman on the subway

eggnog and mistletoe - peter helps you love the holidays

the force awakens? it sleeps - a little extra comfort & care from our favorite baby boyfriend

a prince - wonder woman!reader meets spider-man (& avengers) in a mission

steve rogers fics - peter finds you reading fanfiction abt steve rogers

fanboy!peter

fanboys and bracelets - fanboy!peter parker goes to famous!singer!reader’s meet and greet

fanboys and phone numbers - fanboy!peter parker continuation

showing around - fanboy!peter gets VIP access; some dancing ensues

stark!reader + avengers!reader

if you knew feelings - the avengers want you & peter to break up

sleeping - peter misinterprets a few important questions

the may to your ben - college!best friend!peter parker x stark!reader fluff

race ya - peter confesses his feelings for rogers!reader after a mission — on comms

frat bathrooms - stark!reader joins the avengers where she sees college!peter, the boy she slept with at a frat party

rainy days - reader doesn’t like rainy days, a certain wall-climber changes their mind

already got her - jealous!peter makes a public confession

flustered!peter

a nervous one - flustered!peter parker sees cheerleader!reader in her uniform

one day soon - flustered!peter parker x affectionate!reader

all better - flustered!peter parker does some lab flirting with reader

dad!peter + pregnant!reader

unplanned [ part ii ] - reader gets pregnant... breaks up with peter to avoid it all

burrito wraps - reader worries that baby parker might be cold

a name to remember - latine!reader & peter give their girl a special name

you’re magic - a certain wall crawler hears two heartbeats

sgt. bucky barnes

first cuddles - bucky asks to cuddle for the first time

harry holland

golden light, the love of my life - the boys tease harry —on a live video— for being whipped

it won’t f^cking open - harry lends a helping hand

how much i - those three magical words are exchanged for the first time

cuddly koala moments - time the reader just needed harry’s warmth

anything for hands - the reader cuts harry’s hair on instagram live

your other best friend - the reader is sam’s new friend, but harry thinks they like tom instead

you’re my anchor - harry has an anxiety attack, but the reader knows what to do

what’s his [ pt ii ] - when everything thinks the reader should date tom instead, harry snaps

whipped fries - harry brags about the reader winning the pub quiz for them

tell me, show me - the reader makes harry flustered by playing w/the strings from his sweatpants

keep your cool - tom setting u up with his brother // nikki being wary

ag!reader

you’re such a dream to me — ag!reader writes r.e.m. about harry

harry styles

intoxicating - soft bubbles baths with long haired!harry

frayed braids - reader braids long haired!harry’s hair

others:

harrison osterfield

not anymore - when harrison comes back from filming, he’s determed to win the reader’s heart

irreversible - when relationships fall apart, people fall apart. (infidelity)

circles before yourselves - rule #1 - harrison x osterfield!reader (sister) when brothers talk, bad things begin

think of her - harrison asks your family for their blessing [holland!sister]

steve harrington

together not never - steve discovers the reader is pregnant

3K notes · View notes

imagines-all-day-everyday · 3 years

Text

Madripoor

Requested by: MEEE cause this plot popped into my head the second I watched this episode

Summary: Bucky was just following Sharon’s advice to enjoy the party when he meets *yn*, what he isn’t counting on is that he most definitely won’t be staying out of trouble.

Warnings: THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER EP 3 SPOILERS YOU’VE BEEN WARNEDDDDD, fluff, swearing, violence

PART TWO (NAGEL)

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

“Lay low, blend in. Enjoy the party.” Sharon spoke as she made her way up the stairs. “Oh and try to stay out of trouble, I’ll see what I can find.”

“Trouble?” Zemo smirked.

--------

Sharon’s words echoed in Bucky’s ears as he made his way through the party. Sweaty bodies were pressed up against him as he ducked and weaved through the crowd. It felt like the pulsating music was drumming against his skull as he made his way up to the bar.

“I’m way too old for this.” He huffed out once he reached Sam, gesturing to the bartender for two shots.

“Old or lame? There’s a big difference.” Sam remarked as the pair simultaneously clinked their glasses together and skulled the liquid. Bucky smirked as he watched Sam cough and splutter.

“Now who’s the lame one?” Bucky chuckled, the liquid burning his throat.

“Maybe we both are. Look at Zemo, the dude may be weird but he’s got game.” Sam answered once he’d recovered.

Bucky followed his gaze to see Zemo dancing in between two women, both giggling and chatting animately. He watched as Zemo suddenly began pumping his arm enthusiastically to the beat as the girls watched him wide eyed, before exchanging glancing and slipping back into the crowd without another word.

“On second thought dude’s just weird.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he leant forward and grabbed the beer that the bartender had left out for him. He took a swig as he turned back around to face the party. He automatically swept over area, his eyes sliding over the hundreds of faces as he looked out for any threat.

He paused as his eyes fell on a flash of bright red material.

Upon closer inspection he noted that the bright red material was in fact a silk dress that was covering the slender figure of a young woman. It was a halter dress that had a deep slit down the front and was almost completely backless, the silk material falling down almost to her ankles with another deep slit also running up her leg that exposed her thigh.

He felt his grip on his beer tighten as his eyes fell on her face, revealing a pair of eyes framed by thick lashes and lips painted with a deep plum lipstick. She was snaking her way through the crowd, gracefully dodging drunken people as they stumbled their way around on the dance floor.

As if she sensed his gaze her eyes flickered up and locked with his. The pair eyed each other for a few moments. She shot him a small smile before breaking their gaze.

“Now who would you be checking out hm?” Sam’s voice broke Bucky out of his almost trance like state.

“No one.” Bucky answered gruffly, glancing over at Sam to see him smirking at him.

“Sure Buck.”

Bucky ignored him and turned his head back to where the woman had been only moments ago. She was gone. He scanned the crowd and let out a small huff when he couldn’t see any sight of her.

“Now, I need you to educate me on this art so I can impress some of the ladies.” Sam spoke up again, dragging Bucky’s attention from the crowd.

“What’s that one?” He asked pointing at a nearby painting.

“That’s the Wedding at Cana, painted by Paolo Veronese in 1563.”

“1562 actually.”

Bucky swivelled around, a breath catching in his throat when his eyes fell on the bright red dress. He had no idea how she’d managed to somehow appear beside him without him noticing. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair as he composed himself before answering, ensuring his face stayed void of emotion.

“I’m pretty sure it’s 1563 actually.”

His answer made her brow quirk up in amusement as she took a sip of her drink, her wrist twinkling due to a very expensive looking diamond bracelet dangling from it.

“Actually I think you’ll find it’s 1562. The copy in the Louvre might say 1563 but I suggest you take a peak at the original.” Her words made his eyes narrow as he studied her features.

“Well maybe I will.”

“Before you do that please feel free to continue educating your friend, I’m happy to sit here and correct you when you make another mistake.” She spoke, shooting him an overly warm smile which caused Bucky to grit his teeth.

Sam let out a low whistle as the smirk on her lips widened. “Damn Buck I think you might’ve met someone more cultured than you.”

“We’ll see about that.” Bucky muttered, taking a swig of his beer as he eyed her.

“So how does someone like yourself become so knowledgable about stolen art?” Sam asked her, his eyes darting between the pair in amusement.

The girl shrugged as she took another sip of her drink before motioning to the bartender. “I know a lot about a lot of things.”

“Really?” Bucky mused, this time it being his turn to raise a brow. “And does ‘miss knower of all things’ have a name?”

“Miss knower of all things does.” She answered as she grabbed the shot glass and pressed it to her lips. Bucky eyed her profile intently, noting the way her plump lips wrapped around the lip of the glass and her eyes screwed shut as she slung her head back to let the liquid slide down her throat.

“I love this song.” She remarked, finishing the remainder of her other drink before she rose from her seat. Bucky’s eyes followed her figure as she begun to make her way back to the dance floor. She paused and glanced over her shoulder, a smirk still present on her lips.

“You coming to dance with me or what Buck?” She queried, Sam’s nickname for him rolling off her tongue, amusement evident in her tone.

Bucky eyed her for a few moments before glancing over at Sam. “Sharon did say to enjoy the party.” Sam grinned.

“Try not to be too lame or old huh?” He continued, patting his shoulder encouragingly as Bucky rose from his chair.

“Thanks.” Bucky muttered as he cautiously approached the woman in red. Her smirk widened as he made his way towards her. “C’mon.” He heard her say as she leant forward and took his gloved hand in hers and tugged him into the crowd.

If she was saying anything to him, he couldn’t hear as he felt himself become engulfed in the crowd as she pulled him deeper into the dance floor. After a few moments she came to a stop and swivelled around to face him. He felt himself grow slightly red as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, swaying her hips to the beat.

“Are you really not going to tell me your name?” Bucky spoke, practically shouting to make himself heard over the thumping base.

“Why do you want to know? You never danced with a stranger before?” She answered back.

“No I just- I usually know people’s names before I dance with them.” He replied which caused her to let out a small laugh. “Back in my day we used to go out to dinner first.” He added silently in his head.

His heart thumped against his chest as she pulled him closer to her and leant up so her lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “My name’s *yn*.”

“*yn*.” Bucky echoed, her smile widening at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. “And what brings you to a place like Madripoor?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” She observed matter-of-factly.

Before Bucky could open his mouth to respond, *yn* twisted around, keeping one arm slung around his neck as she pressed her back up against his body. Bucky bit his lip to prevent a hiss from escaping his mouth as *yn* began to rotate her hips to the rhythm of the music, the fabric of her dress pressing against the material of his black suit pants.

This certainly beat online dating.

“Just relax, enjoy the party.” *yn* laughed breathlessly, echoing Sam’s words from before as she pressed even harder against him. Bucky let his eyes flutter shut as he felt his hands automatically move to grip her hips as he started to move his own body in time with the thumping bass.

His grip on her hips tightened as she lolled her head back against his chest, her hot breath fanning onto his neck as the pair moved in sync.

If only Steve could see him now.

As he grew more comfortable he let his gloved hands begin to wander, trailing over her lower stomach before gliding down her thighs. “What do you say we go find somewhere quieter to talk?” He heard *yn* murmur into his ear.

He felt *yn*’s body stiffen as his hands crept lower to just below her panty line. Before he could answer, her hand suddenly shot out to grip his wrist and cease his movements but not before his hand suddenly brushed over an unexpected bump on her leg.

A shape that felt suspiciously like a-

A hand suddenly clamped onto his shoulder causing him to jerk his hands away in surprise just as *yn* pulled away from his grasp. “I’m sorry to break up the party but Sharon’s found our guy-” Sam cut himself off as Bucky swivelled around to stare at him, his eyes wide in surprise.

“You good man?” Sam asked, concern written on his features when he noticed Bucky’s look of surprise.

“I-” Bucky cut himself off before looking back to *yn*.

His brow furrowed as his eyes instead fell on a drunk man currently sculling a beer out of a shoe. He frantically looked around, muttering a curse under his breath when he realised *yn* was no where to be seen.

It was like she had vanished without a trace.

“Oh painting girl pulled a runner? Don’t worry about it man happens to the best of us.” Sam comforted, patting his shoulder once more.

Bucky felt a ripple of suspicion wash over him but he decided against telling Sam about it as he finally pulled his gaze away from the crowd to look at Sam. “Let’s get Zemo. We should talk somewhere private.”

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

“Alright what have you found?” Sam asked. Zemo, Bucky, Sharon and Sam were all piled into a private coat room located directly above the party. The bass was still so loud that Bucky could feel the vibrations through the tiled floor. The door was locked with a few security guards located outside and on the stairs leading up to the room.

Bucky sighed, his mind swimming with thoughts of *yn* as he ripped his gloves off. He couldn’t shake a feeling of suspicious that was gnawing at him that there was something off about *yn*.

“I’ve spoken to a few buyers and I’ve got a location on Doctor Nagel.” Sharon spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “He was pretty hard to track down but he’s definitely still here in Madripoor. He’s at the shipping yard.”

Bucky stiffened when he swore he head a thump outside the door, a thump that didn’t correlate with the sound from the party. He strained his ears and sure enough, another thump followed suit a few minutes lately.

“Bucky?”

“You sure no one can get up here?” Bucky queried, looking over to Sharon.

“I’m sure. This is a restricted area, I’ve got all the entrances guarded.” She answered, watching him as he made his way to the door.

“Bucky? What’s going on?” Sam asked.

Bucky held his hand up to signal everyone to be quiet as he pressed his ear against the wood. He held his breath as he listened intently. There were a few moments of quiet until he head another thump and a small moan.

Without warning Bucky ripped open the door and stepped out into the hallway. He nearly tripped over when his foot hit a solid form. He glanced down to see one of the guards lying at his feet, letting out low moans of pain. His eyes travelled down the hall to see all of the guards were either unconscious or were too dazed to get to their feet.

He froze when his eyes fell on an all too familiar red dress.

Bucky locked eyes with *yn*, her lips parted in surprise and chest heaving up and down as she tried to regain her breath. The pair stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, the silence almost deafening as they eyed each other.

“Bucky!” Sam called out, shattering the silence.

Bucky was only distracted for a split second but *yn* took it, turning around and sprinting down the stairs. “Hey!” Bucky shouted, taking off after her ignoring Sam’s shouts from behind him.

Bucky leapt down the winding stairs, catching brief glimpses of the red material before it disappeared around the next corner. Finally his feet planted on the lower floor. His eyes scanned the crowd, locking onto *yn*’s figure as she pushed through the crowd.

His jaw locked and he could feel himself enter into winter soldier mode as he stormed forward and plunged into the throng of people. He ignored protests and exclamations of surprise as he shoved people out of the way, parting them like the red sea as he kept his eyes focused on her like a laser beam.

*yn* glanced over her shoulder and the pair briefly locked eyes before she turned around once more and broke out of the crowd, sprinting towards a door with a neon exit sign hanging above it.

Bucky was hot on her heels, shoving the door open revealing another set of stairs. He hurried up the stairs and got to a landing revealing two doors. He noted that the left door was slightly ajar and he pushed through it revealing a large hall.

He sprinted into the centre of it, coming to a stop when he saw no sight of *yn*. He did a 360 of the room, craning his neck to look around. The room was empty except for a few large wooden boxes covered in tarps. Clearly this was where Sharon kept the less impressive stolen art.

“Come on.” Bucky muttered under his breath as he looked around. It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop but his senses were telling him that he wasn’t alone in this room.

*yn* was here, if that was even her name.

He let out a grunt of surprise as a sold object hit his back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He could feel limbs wrapping around his neck and his torso as slender arms pulled his neck into a headlock. He let another grunt as he brought his hands up to grip onto the arm that was around his throat.

He furrowed his brow in surprise when he pulled at the arms and found them unbudging. He tried once more, mustering all the strength he had but *yn*’s grip remained unmoving. He gritted his teeth and took a couple steps before shoving his back into one of the wooden crates.

He heard *yn* let out a small moan of pain as her body smacked against the solid mass with full force. Sure enough, her grip loosened slightly which allowed Bucky to pull her arm from his neck and throw her body over his head and off him.

She twisted her body in the air so that she landed in a crouched position but still on her feet. Bucky watched her as she rose to her full height, her body slightly gleaming with sweat under the sterile light. She took a few steps back from him and leant down to spread apart her dress, revealing a black thigh garter.

Just as Bucky had suspected on the dance floor, sheathed inside the thigh garter was a small blade. He watched as she pulled it from her thigh, gripping it tightly in her hand.

“You picked the wrong dress tonight doll.” Bucky tutted as he took a few steps towards her.

“You don’t like it? I’m hurt.” *yn* pouted, placing a hand over her heart mockingly.

“Trust me doll, I like it.” Bucky answered, letting his eyes briefly dart from the dagger in her hand to her dress. “But it’s not exactly the best dress for blending in and slipping away unnoticed.”

“Who ever said I wanted to slip away unnoticed?” *yn* answered, a mischievous glint in her eye as the pair began to slowly circle each other. Her words made his forehead crease in confusion as he studied her intently.

“So you know who I am?”

“I do.” *yn* nodded as she twisted the knife in between her fingers. “The зимний солдат.”

Her answer made Bucky’s lips part slightly in surprise. “That is what they call you, isn’t it?” She mused.

“Who are you?” Bucky snapped causing her to smirk to widen.

“What were those magic words again, Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать-”

Bucky suddenly lurched forward, taking *yn* by surprise. She reacted instinctively, bringing the blade up from her side towards his stomach. Bucky gripped her wrist using his right arm, stopping the knife only inches from his flesh. He pulled her closer to him and raised his metal arm to strike her. With lightning fast reflexes her other arm shot up and her hand enclosed around his fist.

He glanced up at her in surprise when she pushed against his metal arm, stopping his fist from colliding with her jaw. He grunted as he mustered up more strength in an attempt to break out of her grasp to no avail. They were evenly matched in strength.

He had no idea who she was but now he was certain of one thing. They both had super soldier serum running through their veins.

*yn* took advantage of Bucky’s surprise and lifted a leg up, kicking him squarely in the stomach, her stiletto heel digging into his skin. Bucky spluttered as he felt the wind get knocked out of him, loosening his grip on her arms. *yn* reacted quickly, knocking his feet from underneath him and jumping on top of him.

Bucky groaned as his back hit the concrete floor and *yn* straddled him, pinning both of his arms above his head with one hand and pressing her dagger to his throat with the other.

“I think I liked you better when I was showing you up in front of your friend.” She remarked as she pressed the blade firmly against his skin.

“And I think I liked you better when you were dancing on me and not trying to kill me.” Bucky spat back as he squirmed underneath her causing *yn* to cock her head to the side, an amused expression on her features.

“Now whoever said I wanted to kill you?”

“Hmm I don’t know, could be the knife you’ve got against my throat.” He growled, wincing as the metal dug even further into his flesh. *yn* let out a breathy laugh as she leant down towards his face.

“Trust me pretty boy, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

The sound of footsteps approaching and Sam calling Bucky’s name made both their heads jerk towards the door before Bucky could answer her. This time it was Bucky’s turn to take advantage of *yn* being caught off guard. He managed to wriggle his metal arm out of her iron like grip and instantly lurched up to grab her around the throat.

*yn* spluttered in surprise, instinctively dropping her dagger to use both her hands to struggle against his vice like grip. Bucky used all of his core strength to push her off him and roll himself on top of her. Now he was so close up to her and under bright light, he could see that her skin was littered with small scars and bullet holes.

*yn*’s face was slowly growing red as she desperately gasped for air, her body squirming underneath him as she clawed at his metal arm. “I’m not going to ask you again, who the hell are you?” Bucky spat, glaring down at her as he desperately searched her eyes for some sort of answer.

“I don’t-” She spluttered, “I didn’t come here to hurt you, please-” She continued, her voice barely a whisper as her airway grew more restricted. For the first time since Bucky had locked eyes with her, he could see some form of fear and desperation reflecting back at him. The pair eyed each other for a few moments before Bucky slowly eased his grip around her throat, just enough for her to regain some air. *yn* gasped at the feeling of oxygen entering her lungs once more.

“Woah, what the fuck-”

Bucky looked up to see Sam, Sharon and Zemo staring at the pair with wide eyes, all three of them with their weapons raised.

“What part of stay out of trouble did you not understand?” Sharon queried, an exacerbated expression on her features.

“Trouble found me.” Bucky answered gruffly as he looked back down at *yn*. The fear that had been present on her features only moments ago had vanished, the cocky and flirtatious mask had been slipped back on.

“Not that I really mind this position, but given that the cavalry’s arrived, do you mind getting off me?” *yn* asked Bucky coolly.

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unamused at her remark as he studied her. “You’re not going to try and kill me again?”

“I already told you, I don’t want to kill you.” *yn* huffed, rolling her eyes.

Bucky studied her for a few moments before finally relenting and releasing her throat from his grip. He pushed himself off her and rose to his feet but not before grabbing her dagger and sliding it into his suit pants.

*yn* got herself up from the ground, her breathing still ragged as she ran a hand through her hair and tucked her strays behind her ears.

“You wanna tell us who this is Bucky?” Sharon asked, eyeing *yn* up and down.

“Supposedly her name is *yn*-”

“-not supposedly, it is *yn*.”

“-she seems to like not answering questions about herself.” Bucky ignored *yn*’s input. “Oh and she’s had the super soldier serum.”

“Might want to keep an eye on your friend over there, I know he’s in the habit of murdering anyone who’s come within walking distance of the stuff.” *yn* remarked dryly shooting Zemo a dirty look.

“Hello to you too darling.” Zemo grinned causing Sharon to roll her eyes.

“Who are you? Who the hell do you work for?” Sharon quizzed her.

“I don’t work for anyone.” *yn* snapped back.

“The flag smashers?” Sam asked causing *yn*’s face to contort into a look of disgust. “Fuck no, I don’t work with those amateurs.”

“Just tell us what you want or I’m going to have to detain you.” Sharon spoke. There was a brief pause as *yn* studied Sharon before looking over to Bucky.

“You’re not the only one looking for answers, зимний солдат.” She answered quietly, her features softening for a moment as she looked at him.

“Well then maybe we can help each other get answers then.” Bucky murmured back.

The pair studied each other for a few moments before a loud honk suddenly sounded outside. Gun shots rang out from underneath them followed by loud screams and shouts. Bucky, Zemo, Sam and Sharon looked around in confusion as the sound of hundreds of footsteps began to grew louder and louder.

“Sorry kids, that’s my ride. Gotta fly.”

Within a few seconds the door burst open and hundreds of party goers flooded the room, shouting for help as they fled from the gun fire. Bucky glanced over to where *yn* had been only a few seconds ago to see that she was sprinting towards the only window in the room.

Bucky pushed through the panicked crowd, watching helplessly as *yn* reached the raised window. She clambered up onto the ledge and shoved the window open. She glanced over her shoulder and the pair locked eyes when Bucky was practically within arms length of her.

“I’ll be sure to send Doctor Nagel your regards, Buck.” She taunted. “We should do this again sometime, maybe without trying to hurt each other.” She smirked, sending him a wink before leaping off the ledge. Bucky scrambled up onto the ledge and poked his head out to see *yn* sliding down a pipe fixed to the outside of the building.

He watched helplessly as her stilettos hit the ground. She approached a waiting motorcycle, the driver holding out a helmet for her expectantly. She took the helmet and slung her leg over the seat, sliding her helmet on as the driver throttled the engine. She looked up to the window and gave Bucky a wave before wrapping her arms around the driver’s waist.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed as he watched the motorbike peel off into the bustling street, going completely unnoticed by the rest of the public amid the chaos.

“She’s gone?” Sam queried as the other three appeared beside Bucky at the window.

“Hm.” Bucky grunted, clenching his jaw in annoyance as he watched the motorbike disappear from sight.

“She was kind of terrifying.” Sam remarked matter of factly.

“I thought for sure she was going to gut you, James.” Zemo observed.

Bucky stayed silently, clearly brooding as he stared out into the street as Sam studied him in amusement.

“I think Bucky’s in love.”

PART TWO (NAGEL)

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

зимний солдат = winter soldier

Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать = Longing, Rusted, Seventeen.

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I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH!?!? As always feedback is appreciated!!!! Please give it back here xx

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #bucky #bucky imagine #bucky imagines #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #bucky x reader #reader x bucky #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws imagine #the winter soldier

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donutloverxo · 3 years

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NO BUT LIKE CONCEPT: SMUT HC where mob!steve comes back from a rough night that leaves him very much outta it and ur the only one who can help him ... in more ways than one

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I'm making this a drabble cause I can't work with HCs. Thank you❤ Warmings -explicit sexual content, dom Steve, daddy kink, spanking, blood and wounds, bullets. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

You put some distance between your poor ear and your phone upon hearing your friends loud screech, excited since she saw your Instagram post of your new engagement ring.

"It is so beautiful! And so unconventional and unique too!"

"Mm-hm," you hummed, applying a second coat of your fiery red nail paint, to make it more intense, you just knew it'd look amazing against Steve's pale skin, he absolutely loved it when you scratched him and were a bit rough with him.

You never gave him any pointers on what kind of engagement ring you'd like, only thing that was a bit too obvious - which you never actually needed to say - was that you loved shiny things. So he has gotten you a ring with a huge sapphire ruby and tiny sparkly diamonds adorning the band. It was everything you needed and more.

"Makes sense because our relationship is anything but conventional." Where he had never directly said that his job involved a few things that were kind of, sort of, illegal but you weren't an idiot, it didn't take you long to figure out.

You knew he was important and rich when he asked you out, not just because he wore fancy clothes, but the way he carried himself, tall and proud and an aura that dominated any room he was in, two bodyguards always around him, and when you both started getting serious he assigned Peter, who was sort of an intern or newbie from what you gathered, to always escort you places and take care of you.

Maybe it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do - marrying someone who was as feared as he was respected - but all you knew was that he was a good man and you had faith in him, so you stayed away from that part of his life.

"You must be planning the wedding now," she beamed over the phone.

You scoffed, blowing on your fingers, "No, he's always at work these days. It's so annoying, if it doesn't change then I'm leaving and taking the ring with me."

You looked at it sparkling on your finger, it was too beautiful to part with. Besides it became yours as soon as he gave it to you.

"You're late, but there's nothing new about that," you puffed out your cheeks, hands crosses under your chest, as he loosened his tie and worked on taking off his shoes. He had been coming home past midnight for the last month, enough was enough!

"Doll," he groaned, looking at you and ready to tell you off and ask for some space, but then he saw you. In a satin babydoll that barely covered you, with lace trimmings that did nothing to hide your soft nipples, your toes and nails painted just the color he liked, and you were wearing those ridiculous fluffy slippers with bunny ears that he had grown to love.

His mouth opened and then shut like a damn goldfish, forgetting what he was about to tell you.

"Steven," you furrowed your brows.

He knew he was in trouble as soon as you called out his full name. "Yeah?"

"When are we going to discuss the wedding?"

"I'm sorry, doll, work has been hectic these days. But soon."

"Soon? Soon doesn't do it for me," jutting your hip and leaning against the door to your walk in closet, "I need an exact date."

"I can't give it to you right now, puppy," his jaw clenching as you rolled your eyes, "Watch yourself, sweetheart. I had a long day, you don't wanna get on my bad side today."

"You shouldn't have put a rock on it if you didn't intend on marrying me," rolling your eyes extra hard just to get on his nerves.

"I do want to marry you. But right now... you're sort of making me have second thoughts."

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Because you looked about ready to smack him.

"Fine then. I guess I'll leave and go live with my mother from now on. She would be happy for sure, she isn't too thrilled about our engage - " you stopped your rant as soon as you noticed crimson seeping through his crisp white undershirt as he took off his coat.

Your eyes as wide as saucers, your heart beating fast and hard in your chest and you could feel your eyes getting watery. You weren't handing out empty threats, you were definitely serious about leaving. Just to remind Steve of just how much he loves you.

It wouldn't be the first time. You had done it once before, when you went back to live at your apartment because he yelled at you for going out with your girlfriends without Peter. You didn't need a babysitter, especially not one who was several years younger than you. You had gathered up your things from Steve's penthouse and went home with a heavy heart. You loved him with all your heart, but there was no way you could make it work with someone who was that controlling and mean to you.

But he came to you, literally got on his knees to apologize and to beg for you to take him back. He even made you give up your apartment and got you a bigger house for you both to live in. Just so you couldn't take off ever again.

"Steve... your bleeding..." you said as you held back a sob. Any anger you had towards him was now gone.

"Oh, shit," he looked down to his side, "Must've ruptured the stitch or something..."

You walked over to him, holding onto his waist and looking up at him, trying not to look at his wound. You weren't that squimish around blood, it rarely ever bothered you, but this was your Stevie, and he was hurt. "What happened?"

"Its... It's nothing, doll. It was an accident."

"Yeah, I guess you slipped and fell on a bullet," you huffed.

"No, the bullet barely grazed me. And you know I don't like talking about those things with you."

"Why? I'm not stupid or weak, I have a right to know."

"Of course, not, puppy. You're my sweet, strong, smart girl," he cooed, bending a bit to peck your lips and then groaning. "Gotta, be careful with this," he said as your fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

"If I'm so strong and smart then tell me what happened," you asked as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. You didn't stop to marvel at his huge and perfect body like you always do, you looked at the fresh batch on stitches right over his hips.

"No, puppy. You're too good for that world, too good for me," he groaned as he sat down on the little pink couch he had put in the closet for you. Since you spent hours trying to pick outfits, he didn't want you standing too long and hurting your feet.

"Fine then don't tell me," you whimpered, rubbing your tears off with the back of your hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm right here, not going anywhere," he tried to pull you into his lap, usually he wouldn't even have to ask for you sit on it, but right now you were pulling away and refusing for some reason, "C'mere, doll," he almost whined. Not used to being told no by you anymore than you were by him.

"No, I don't wanna hurt you," you hiccuped, as your sobs started to calm down.

"You wouldn't. You could never hurt me. C'mere I wanna cuddle you and make you feel better," he tried to pull you into him again but you just shook your head.

"I should be the one making you better. Not the other way around. But I don't know how to..." you swayed from side to side, suddenly ashamed of your brash behavior from earlier. "I'm sorry, I was being such a brat earlier."

"It's okay, puppy. I forgive you. You were right, we need to fix a date and find a venue and get you a pretty dress. I wanna see you in one of those poffy gowns, like a princess."

"That's called a ballgown," you said proudly, having done your research now. You knew all about the styles of the gowns, sleeves, necklines, colors and everything. "And you're not going to be involved in dress shopping process. Grooms aren't supposed to see the dress before the wedding it's bad luck."

He hummed at that, a bit disappointed but he would eventually see it, and then take it off, so it wasn't a huge loss. "Yes, you're right. But, let's not forget, you were a bad girl."

You gasped incredulously, "Well, you were being a bad fiance!" Which earned you a swift smack to your backside, making you yelp and fall forward, holding onto his shoulders for support.

"I didn't mind you calling me out for that. I want you to be honest with me and tell me everything. But you threatened to leave me, again."

You pouted. Offended for being called out so blatantly. Yeah you always made empty threats, packed up your bags just for show, whenever you didn't get your way. Never considering his feelings when yours were hurt.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. But I'll have to teach you your lesson. Just so you know better next time."

You nodded your head, which made him spank you once more, "Yes, daddy!"

"Good. How many do you think you deserve?"

"Um... Fifteen. Ten for threatening to leave, and five for giving you attitude."

"See, you're so smart. I'll punish you tomorrow though. I'm tired right now," he groaned as he sat back against the couch, squeezing your hips and admiring your figure, showing through the thin material of your nightie.

"Um, daddy?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Is there anyway I can make you feel better right now?"

"Yeah, you can give me a kiss. You didn't give me one this morning when I left, or when I came back."

"Okay, I'll kiss you. But I also wanted to do more..." you murmured, your face burned hot as you realised that Steve was going to make you say what you wanted to do.

"Like what?"

"Like, take your cock down my throat. Would that make you feel better? I'll try and be careful about your stitches." Truth be told you missed being intimate with him, you needed it as much as he did.

"It definitely would make me feel better. But I want to have you close to me," he stroked the inside of your thighs, hands dangerously close to your cunt, "Why don't you, come ride my cock. Just like I taught you, hm?"

"But - what if I hurt you..." you whined. But he wasn't having any of it, rolling your panties down your legs.

"You wouldn't, puppy, come on we'll be careful. Be quick."

You gave him a meek nod, unzipping him with shaky fingers, giving his glorious cock a couple of pumps before straddling his lap. You made sure to not put any pressure on his lap. Lining his cock up to your pussy with your hands wrapped around his neck, you slowly sanked down on him.

First giving him a nice and thorough kiss to make him for not kissing him goodbye or welcome home like you always do. "I feel so full," you say against his lips.

He hummed, squeezing your ass, "I was made for you, angel. As you were for me." He slid the straps of your nightie down your arms, exposing your breasts to him. He made sure to shower them with all his lips, sucking, kissing and biting and pulling with his mouth. You were making the sweetest of noises, trying to keep your moans in as he helped you bounce on his cock by holding onto your hips.

"You're doing so good. Being such a good girl for me. My sweet, best girl," he cooed, kissing your forehead, he knew how you were still vulnerable to be on top.

"Am I making you feel better, daddy?" you sniffled, his cock hiting you in all the right places, making it impossible for you to keep going and hold off your climax.

"I'm all better already, thanks to you, puppy."

#berry answers #steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #steve x reader

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critical-thinking-is-mandatory · 3 years

Text

Chats and Bags

Marinette and Adrien have been happily married since they left school and she finally feels ready to tell him the truth. She’s Ladybug and Guardian of the Paris Miraculouses. Unfortunately, maybe the cat should have stayed in the bag.

Marinette slumped back against the closed door with a tired, but satisfied groan. She toed off her heels and wriggled sore, sweaty, stockinged toes.

“Honey!” Marinette called into the apartment. The lights were on, casting her home with warm, soft light, and the tv hummed quietly from the loungeroom. She hung her coat on the hook by the door and stretched, padding into the kitchen. “Adrien, I’m home.”

“Princess!” Adrien hopped down from his perch on one of the kitchen’s bar stools and came bounding towards her, smiling brightly. He scooped her up into a hug and span them both around, giggling like a little girl. “How was work?” Adrien set her down with a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Good, we finally got all the kinks worked out for the Winter bridal line but that’s not important right now. I’ve got something really important to talk to you about.” Marinette smiled and took Adrien’s hands in hers. “How about we talk over dinner?”

Adrien winced. “Oh. I already ate.” Ah. Marinette spied the emptied takeout containers sitting abandoned on the kitchen bench. One person’s serve. Adrien caught her and flashed a blinding smile. With the sparkle in his eye and Adrien’s perfect smile, Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed despite the hunger gnawing at her belly. He bounced on his toes. “I can listen while you eat.” Marinette shook her head and smiled, ignoring the tightness of hunger in her belly.

“That’s okay, it can wait.” Marinette took a deep, steadying breath. “Just- just sit down, I need to go get something.” Adrien perched on a barstool, still smiling brightly. Marinette padded away down the hall to her workroom. Tikki floated out of her blazer pocket and smiled encouragingly when she was at eye-level.

“You can do this Marinette!” Tikki chirped. She flitted about, practically dancing in the air. “It’s Adrien! You two have been in love for years, telling him you’re Ladybug will just make your relationship stronger.”

Marinette steeled herself, confidence boosted. “You’re right Tikki. I can do this. I’m Marinette!” Marinette powered into her workroom and burrowed down to the bottom of her scrap fabric chest. She pulled out the wooden box at the bottom and Tikki phased into the lock and the box popped open on well-oiled springs. Inside, cushioned by stained scrap cloth, was the Miracle Box. It had changed as Marinette grew older and wiser in her role as Guardian, turning from the giant spotted egg, into a baby pink briefcase style sewing kit.

Marinette took one more deep breath to steady the shaking of her hands before reaching in, drawing out the case and standing in one movement.

“Okay.” She smiled nervously at Tikki. “Let’s do this.” Tikki gave Marinette one more bright smile before hiding away in Marinette’s blazer again. Tikki’s weight in a hidden inner pocket, nestled close against Marinette’s side, was soothing and familiar enough to spur Marinette on once more.

Marinette left the workroom behind her and with each step down the hall, towards Adrien, her dear, sweet, perfect Adrien, the box in her hands grew lighter. With every step Marinette took she got closer to finally, finally being able to share her burden. Closer to never having to keep another secret between them ever again. Marinette had everything else she’d ever wanted, and the only thing standing between Marinette and Adrien’s future (with three kids and a hamster) was one teensy, tiny, itty bitty little conversation.

“Phew!” Marinette said to break the quiet, too loud, and she winced when Adrien startled.

Adrien looked between Marinette and the case curiously, perfect golden brows furrowed in a mix of obvious confusion and curiosity. “Your sewing kit?” Marinette perched on a stool opposite Adrien, taking her time to straighten the kit on the island between them. She forced herself to meet Adrien’s eyes, suddenly trembling with nerves.

“Not just a sewing kit,” Marinette murmured. Just do it. Like ripping a band-aid off. She opened her blazer and Tikki floated out, giving Adrien a cheery little wave. “It’s the Miracle Box. I’m Ladybug, Adrien.” Tikki giggled and settled on Marinette’s shoulder.

For his part, Adrien seemed unphased. He smiled brightly with that little twinkle in his eye Marinette had always adored.

“Adrien?” Marinette gently pressed. She didn’t want to press him for a response but his silence was making her heart tremble. Adrien’s smile grew to a thousand-Watt beam and he seemed almost to vibrate in his seat.

“I’m so glad you finally told me,” Adrien chirped. He reached out and brought Marinette’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and then another to her sparkling wedding ring. “Now we don’t need to keep secrets between us!” He pressed another kiss to her knuckles before grinning dashingly. “Plagg.”

“Plagg?” Marinette whispered. She felt cold and hot all at once. “So you’re-“

“Chat Noir, yes.” Adrien grinned in that smug, ‘cat that got the canary’ way Marinette had come to expect only from her partner. Seeing it on Adrien’s face made her stomach flip and decidedly not in the butterflies and curling toes and shivers down her spine way. “I’m so glad you finally told me M’Lady, it’s been agony not being able to call you My Lady every day.” Marinette’s blood froze.

“What did you say?” She whispered. Ice crept through her veins and closed her throat.

“I’ve wanted to call you My Lady for years, and now I finally can!” Adrien pressed yet another kiss to Marinette’s knuckles before ploughing on. “Well I’ve known for years M’Lady!” Adrien – Chat – Adrichat? practically purred. “Ever since I saw you leaving my room after gifting me my favourite beret.” He sighed dreamily, apparently totally ignorant of the ice in Marinette’s blood slowly creeping from her blood into her expression. “It was Fate, M’Lady, and look at us! Together forever because you finally saw that we were made for each other.”

That phrase was painfully, heartbreakingly familiar. “Adrien, I don’t understand. Are- what are you saying? Did you only marry me…because you knew I was Ladybug?” Marinette’s eyes burned with potential tears. “I thought you loved me.”

Adrien finally seemed to realise things weren’t completely fine and dandy because his expression fell into that kicked puppy look he was so good at. “Of course I love you Bugaboo! You’re the Ladybug to my Chat Noir, the yin to my yang, the creation to my destruction.” Marinette snatched her hand out of Adrien’s grasp and his expression crumpled like tissue paper.

Marinette stood, her stool scraping and Tikki dislodged from her shoulder. “My name is Marinette.” Her breath hitched and she snatched up the Miracle Box, clutching it to her chest. “You know I hate it when you call me Bugaboo. You know that.” She stumbled back when Adrien stood, still smiling that cat grin.

“There’s no need to play coy anymore, Princess,” Adrien purred. “We’ve been married since we were eighteen.” His stare grew hot, eyes darkening and he circled round the island. Marinette shifted towards the doorway. “You and I know each other intimately.” Adrien pressed closer still. “What are you so upset for? We’re happy together, aren’t we?”

“You lied to me!” Marinette shouted. Her outburst seemed to shock Adrien almost as much as it shocked Marinette herself. “Did you really only love me because you knew I was Ladybug? Would you have even considered dating me, marrying me, if you thought I was just plain old Marinette?”

“Well what was I supposed to do? You wouldn’t let me in as Chat, so when I knew for sure who you were behind the mask how was I supposed to resist?” Adrien demanded and if Marinette had any doubts he was Chat Noir they were thoroughly, utterly trashed on the floor. No one else could be so entitled, so, so pig-headed! That was the last straw. Marinette steeled herself.

“I’m going.” Adrien startled. “I…I need some – some time to myself. Don’t call me. I’ll-“ Marinette’s breath hitched and she forced herself to continue past the lump in her throat- “I’ll call you.” Marinette fled, barely remembering her coat and shoes as she bolted out the door.

“M’Lady!” Adrien called. “Princess!” His voiced cracked, clearly nearly in tears. Adrien’s heartbroken shouting cut off with the closing of the elevator doors. Marinette let out a sob, finally breaking in the relative comfort and safety of the elevator.

Tikki fluttered up to pat Marinette’s cheek sympathetically. “Oh Marinette. It’ll all be okay.” Marinette swiped roughly at her eyes, drawing away the tears that were starting to fall. Tikki gave her a soft, sad-eyed look. “You should call your parents, Marinette.”

“But it’s so late and they need to be awake early tomorrow to open the bakery and if I keep them up too late-“

“Marinette,” Tikki interrupted firmly. “Your parents love you, call them.” Marinette gave in, pulling out her phone just as the elevator doors opened. Tikki hid away in Marinette’s blazer. Marinette dialled her parents’ number, slipping her coat on one arm and her shoes back on as she listened to the dial tone.

“What if they don’t pick up?” Marinette worried. She didn’t have to.

“Marinette, honey?” Her maman answered. “Is everything okay, sweetie? You’re calling quite late.” Marinette sniffled.

“Maman can I- can I come stay tonight?” The doorman gave Marinette a nervous look as she passed and she realised she probably looked awful, with her tear-streaked makeup and her coat only half on. The thought only served to make Marinette feel worse and she gave a small wail that echoed in the empty street. A stray cat hissed and skittered out of her path.

“Oh sweetie, sh sh. Of course you’re welcome, Marinette. Do you want me to come pick you up?” Marinette wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

“No, that’s- that’s okay Maman.” Marinette sniffled again, listening to the click of her heels on the sidewalk as she collected herself. “I’ll be there soon,” Marinette assured her maman. She forced a wobbly smile even though Maman wouldn’t be able to see it. “I promise.” Marinette hung up and turned her face to the sky. The moon was washed out by the streetlights, and any light that may have made it past was smothered by city smog. Altogether a fittingly depressing picture.

In all of Marinette’s fussing, her planning, making contingency plans for her contingency plans, never had Marinette considered that Adrien already knew. Knew and never told her and and and- Marinette paused in the middle of the path and shrieked, stomping her feet and barely resisting the temptation to sit down in the grime of the sidewalk and cry like a little kid. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

#ml #sodium rich fanfic #marinette #adrien salt #psst. endgame lukanette

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behindyourbarrette · 3 years

Text

temporarily, indefinitely, forever/chapter two

Penelope Garcia is a great many things, including a wonderful friend, but she’s a terrible matchmaker. After one too many ill-fated blind dates, the Reader and Spencer Reid find a solution in each other. Their arrangement is temporary...right?

pairing: bi!spencer reid x bi!reader (mentioned briefly, it’s a self insert so think what u want)

category: fluff, fake dating trope, slow burn, requited unrequited love

a/n: hiii welcome to the next installment of TIF! hope you enjoy, and if you do—REBLOG it is the easiest way to show me and other people that you liked it, and help the rest of tumblr like it too! i’d also like to extend a massive thank you to my amazing beta reader @candlesandsoftrain who helped me with this chapter!

previous chapter

series masterlist

----

Spencer Reid is kind of the perfect fake boyfriend.

You notice slowly, over the course of the first weeks. There’s no real catalyst to this realization, no other shoe left to drop. It just hits you.

“I got you coffee.”

You turn your head, setting your purse down on your chair. He’s taken to scaring the life out of you by lurking in your office, arriving at work early. You’ve grown to expect him, too tall for the armchair in the corner, always one step ahead of you.

“You didn’t have to.” You say, but you reach for the warm cup anyways. He knows your order without asking, and you consider this while he watches you take a sip. His cheeks warm, and he hides behind his book, lingering a little too long until you’re interrupted. You don’t discuss the fact that you leave the window shades open, fractions of you both visible from outside, pieces of your smiles shining through the cracks. The shades are open, but he stays even when they aren’t.

You check your phone, the morning after O’Keefe’s. It’s nearly noon, the slight chill in the air giving way to a balmy warmth. You aren’t surprised to find that your work group chat has blown up slightly. You wince as you picture next month’s phone bill.

Penelope writes first, unsurprisingly. ‘I’m thinking a spring wedding?’ Emily and JJ are next. ‘Too soon, Pen. You guys are cute, though.’ ‘So happy for you two!! We’ve been waiting for this to happen forever!! Much love <3’

You make your way to the kitchen, phone cool in the palm of your hand as you fix yourself breakfast. The conversation is ongoing, the buzz of a new message near constant. You look back every few minutes, trying to absorb the barrage of questions and praise.

Derek is an amusing texter, always brief but rarely boring. His take is short, but you get the message. ‘Leave the lovebirds alone.’

Your first order of business—if you can even call it that—comes in a brief form, a term and an agreement. The first day you see him at the office, you find a new sense of charm in the way he’s perched at his desk. You can’t bring yourself to talk to him normally until you get it out of the way, all in one breath and spoken quietly.

“Just until January.”

He looks back at you, a little delayed. It takes him a moment to place what you’ve said, until you watch him register it. He shakes his head, and even you can read between the lines to decipher his meaning.

“Of course.”

“And…you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If I ask. Just tell me.” You add, pursing your lips together. You half-regret the way you teased him, under the wash of low light in O’Keefe’s. It occurs to you later that Spencer is a private person, and you’re asking a lot of him. He shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders.

“Of course.” He repeats. It sounds like he’s convincing himself more than he’s convincing you.

This exchange is quickly forgotten, though, in a wash of other meetings and technical dates. He calls you after a case, and in your fragile knowledge of him you half expect him to arrive with a binder full of evidence, anniversaries and dates and the entire timeline of your supposed affair, in print. You bear a pen, ready to sign the truth away at the dotted line.

He doesn’t. He arrives with a loaf of bread and a book.

“Your birthday’s in March, right?” You nod, reaching into the sink so the butter knife doesn’t make a sound as it clatters down. He is trying to be conversational, here, pretending not to know the exact day. You wish he wouldn’t. He plays his cards close to his chest with you. He seems a little far away, but he nods as if filing this information away.

“October 28th, for you.” You offer, as if this piece of knowledge will compensate for everything he doesn’t tell you. He smiles a little, pleased, and you have to turn away before he catches sight of the flush of your cheeks. Instead of preparing for this, you ask. He answers. You don’t plan out every minute detail. Nobody really asks. Where you thought people would require detail, proof, they seem satisfied just by looking at the two of you. It is a mystery, what they see.

Despite this, you can tell the team is unsure how to approach the two of you. Maybe it’s Spencer—he’s known them for longer, and you have no idea if kissing his coworker is a normal occurrence for him, but you can’t put your finger on it. They tiptoe around you, congratulatory in the absence of their romantic intervention. This is exactly what you want. You only run into a singular hiccup, in the form of David Rossi.

“You and Reid, huh?”

You have never enjoyed small talk in the break room, but somehow it’s even more suffocating here. You’re not entirely sure of how Rossi even found out—though, upon reflection, he strikes you as a gossip—but you have to force a sip of coffee down to answer quickly.

“Yeah.” You are not trying, but your eyes find the back of his head, in the distance. Dave seems skeptical, looking between you and Spencer as he stirs his coffee. After the silence stretches into something uncomfortable, he shrugs.

“He’s a good kid.” This is new—the way you open your mouth, ready to defend the fact that Spencer is a grown ass man, and Rossi isn’t entitled to treat him otherwise. You close your mouth before you burn a bridge, something acrid settling in your throat. He seems to take your slight intensity as a good omen, though, and walks off with a smirk. You retreat into Penelope’s office, craving something easier than the reality that you’d fight for Spencer in secret, when you’ve only agreed to that in public.

Penelope is perfectly satisfied with the outcome of her matchmaking, even if it wasn’t created in her own image. Inside her sanctuary, amid the buzz and beep of her monitors, she hands you a celebratory lollipop, bright pink to match her glasses. You fall quiet, spinning in your office chair in a way you’ve picked up from someone you know. It feels like there is something left unsaid, until Penelope speaks.

“You could have told me you were seeing him,” She says quietly, devoid of the vibrancy you know and love from her. Your heart breaks a little. In the construction of your white lie, you’ve betrayed her. You exhale slowly, and it requires all of your self control not to completely give yourself away.

“I know. We wanted to wait. I’m sorry.” You say, and reach across her keyboard to give her hand a squeeze. We. There’s a we now, something to belong to. You are not used to this.

You wanted to wait. This is one of many half-truths, created and told over and over. The backbone of the greater lie. Nobody ever really sees the foundation of a house; it’s just there. It’s deceptively easy to defend it.

In September, Hotch calls you into his office. You’re positive that you've violated a fraternization rule, that you’ve ruined your whole life and career and probably Spencer’s too, until you find yourself in his office. He’s smiling. This sight is so rare that you feel your shoulders relax from your ears, and let your guard down.

“How would you feel about working in the field?”

You are not a profiler. This is by design; while the best people you know are profilers, you’re better suited to press conferences and survivor support. It’s entirely different, though, to have your boots on the ground. It feels a little more real, somehow. You stalled this step, this advancement of your career, for fear of losing yourself in the job. On the other side of a landline, you’re protected. It is entirely more rewarding, though, to see who you are helping. To watch the weight lift from their shoulders. The badge on your lapel carries a little more weight when you’re far from home. You adjust slowly, the cases blurring into weeks and days spent overtired and overworked. You spend a lot of time wandering hotel hallways, unable to sleep and waiting for the vending machine to cough up something sweet. You aren't there when the people you work to stop are arrested. When the tension is high, when the team’s work hinges on a single word or phrase. You report the joy, the end. With a smile on your face, you announce the Bureau’s successes, stage lights white-hot on your skin.

The jet is your least favorite part.

You try not to tell anyone this. Somehow, you think that if you bring up your minor claustrophobia, you’ll never live it down. Typically, you manage your fear of turbulence by focusing on the dozens of case files you’re expected to sift through. The drone of the engines and cool blue lighting falls into the background, and you can forget you’re in the air.

It’s cold in the atmosphere. The team is exhausted, each slumped over in their seats and sleeping softly. You try not to look at your watch and feel the rush of fear at the realization that your flight is far from over.

Spencer’s awake, though. You are shoulder to shoulder, on the longer couch. It is endlessly convenient, this companionship. Wherever you go, there is someone to take with. He’s reading Northanger Abbey, and you watch him stifle his laughter every few pages.

The jet lilts to the side, and you can’t suppress your sharp intake of breath. Spencer looks up from his book, watching you try to regulate your breathing. The turbulence is mild, a few bumps and drops every minute, but it scares you to no end.

“I hate flying.”

You mutter, as if he doesn’t know. He nods, and you watch him physically stop himself from telling you a statistic about plane crashes. Instead, he smiles ruefully, and reaches for your hand.

“I’m afraid of the dark.” He admits, and suddenly you’ve exchanged something. A give and take. You know him better than before. Sometimes, when he isn’t there, you wonder if you would know this Spencer if you hadn’t been who you were at the bar. If he was really there to begin with. Either way, you savor this. Knowing him. You close your eyes, leaning your head back. Spencer traces circles over the space between your thumb and index finger, an absent-minded soothe, and you fall into a dreamless sleep.

Sometimes, his inquiries are less heartfelt. At times it feels like he is trying to read you like a book. To memorize each word and learn it by heart.

“How many relationships have you been in?” He asks, watching a kid skateboard past. He lives near a park, which you find ridiculously endearing. The smell of fresh wood chips is heavy in the air, nostalgic and sad all at once. You turn your head, your cheeks burning.

“I just wanted to know! The average American woman your age has been in five.” He says, as if being accused of something, a little rushed. You laugh, shrugging your shoulders.

“Three.” His eyes widen, and he nods. “My high school boyfriend, a girl in college, and a guy in between.”

“You were cool in high school.” He says, a little wistful. You laugh, at his earnestness and at the untruth of it. A duck waddles past and he watches it go, the grass green and damp beneath your feet.

“I was not! I was on the debate team, and I cut my hair in my bathroom sink before school pictures.” You say, and this coaxes a laugh out of him. An elderly couple walking past smiles at you warmly, the woman clinging to her partner with mittened hands, and this makes your chest hurt. How lovely, to hold onto someone. “I was cool in college, though.”

“How about you?” You ask, when the silence has become a little more than you bargained for. You are simply looking at each other. You’ve done this countless times—his features are familiar to you, the rise of his cheekbones and interest in his eyes. But this time, it feels loaded. He shrugs, brushing you off.

“Which question?”

“Either.” Both, preferably.

“Depends on your definition.” He says, because he knows that you hate when he’s vague, and you tease the number two out of him and learn that he was entirely too young to be in college when he was. You wonder if you ever saw him, in Pasadena, smoggy skies overhead. A glimpse of a bookbag or shaggy brown hair. Not many years between you in age but a lifetime left to pass before you learn each other’s names. The morning dew melts into sludge as the sun warms the grass, and you walk back to the real world begrudgingly.

He knows you. He knows your middle name, and which type of pen you like to keep on your desk. You know that he doesn’t mention his childhood much, and that he hates feeling like he’s intruding. A month in, when October is no longer a hypothetical, you make him a copy of your house key. He will sometimes appear in the mornings, so that you can drive him to work and appear at the office together. He raids your fridge for Jell-O, and likes the fact that you have cable because they play reruns of Star Trek on Saturdays. You figure out how to use your VCR recorder to tape them for him, and it is this way that he is woven into your life. Like a gold thread, he is undetectable until you shine a little light. Until someone looks. You almost forget that it wasn’t always like this.

“Who’s your favorite author?” He asks, around a spoon. You turn away from the oatmeal at the stove, shrugging. You will never understand why he asks questions he knows the answer to. It only occurs to you after you register the genuine curiosity on his face that he hasn’t seen your room, the bookshelves that would give him the answer he seeks.

“Steinbeck.” You say, a little defensive, and you’re happy to see a grin bloom on his face. He sets his bowl down, formulating his response.

“You have good taste. The Grapes of Wrath or Of Mice and Men?”

You reach across the stove to turn it off, a small smile forming on your lips. He watches as you indulge in the slight suspense of it all.

“East of Eden, actually.” You think you may have ruined him. His eyes widen with delight and he launches into an explanation, his spoon clattering onto the counter.

“Oh my God. You have great taste. Good and evil, the Biblical allusions—”

You feel a little like you’re improvising, walking on unsteady flooring. You aren’t sure why he agreed to your proposition, only that it’s working. Despite the way this whole thing started, he doesn’t kiss you often. It’s not necessary, really. All it takes is a little hand-holding and hushed conversation to convince the team. JJ talks to you differently now, like you know something she knows, too. Garcia tells you that you're glowing. Emily smiles when she sees you next to Spencer, a little proud. The bullpen feels a little less desolate when you know that you’re waiting, someone pulling you home. You bicker over the radio station, and he waves from the doorway of his apartment complex every time you go.

“Come on. You're sleep deprived. I’ve caught you in three micro sleeps in the past ten minutes.”

Spencer's voice is soft behind you, but you’re more annoyed than anything. You have two reports left, and you told yourself you wouldn’t leave until they were done. The rest of the team is still at work, too, absorbed in their computers or at least pretending to be. Spencer pulls you to face him, the desk chair squeaking as you spin.

“I am not micro sleeping,” You say, because it is the only part of his claim that you can dispute. He laughs, and shakes his head.

“Give me your keys. I’m taking you home. I’ll drop the car off tomorrow.”

This is not something he has done before. The entire reason why you give him rides is because he hates driving—and his car is a total death trap. You hate to imagine him in that tiny Volvo, an accident waiting to happen.

“Go home,” Hotch calls, breezing past the bullpen. “He’s right.”

You laugh, heat blooming across your face as you stand. You pause while you wait for the elevator, face to face.

“Kiss me like we’re saying goodbye.” You will regret this in the morning, when you feel like you can keep your eyes open. Spencer shakes his head a little, confused.

“We’re not. I’m taking you home.”

“Spencer, I swear. They’re looking. Just do it.” You don't register it, but you are hoping that he will. He sighs, but pulls you close and presses a brief kiss to your lips. He’s tender, tentative, and this is what makes your head spin. You don’t know when you learned the difference between Spencer’s goodbyes and hellos, but the dissonance between the two is clear as day. He is not saying goodbye, not now. The elevator dings, and you step inside. One foot in the door, you look back to make sure he follows.

The holidays haven’t even started.

taglist <3 link to join and be tagged in future parts

@everyonesfavoritepipecleaner @idonotexiste @coldlilheart @onyourfingertips @uptowngotmedown @infinite-tides @whentheskiesareblue @winniemjf @aanubisbackwards @just-another-persona123 @okivia @thedancingnerdmermaid @the-chaotic-cow @drayshadow @measure-in-pain @allybatch @reidonfilm @luredwithpretzels @rexorangecouny @thatsonezesty13 @rare-breed-of-human @ceridwen-02 @briefgoateeking

#lol #rory writes #temporarily indefinitely forever #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluf #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid series

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

Shattered

Draco Malfoy x Astoria Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of cheating.

Request: Hi, I was one of the many who requested a one shot.So I wrote that I'd like for you to write an angsty one shot with Draco, Astoria and reader. I heard this sound: So she gets the flowers right? And I got excuses, I got used and shattered." And it stuck with me still 🙈 You can make the end happy or sad. However you like.Thank you 😍💚 @perfect-storm95

A/N: Well, well, well. This has made me hate Draco for the remainder of the day. Also, I’m gonna throw a little twist into this.

Word Count: 3,714

“All you have to do is say yes.”

It took a respectable amount of control to ignore the lurch in your stomach when he put his arm around her shoulder. It took even more restraint to avoid the heat in your throat when he laughed at something that she had spoken. And it took absolutely everything in you to ignore the way your heart ached when he kissed her the way he had once kissed you.

It had been a wild evening for sure, to say the very least. What was supposed to be a lighthearted night full of making fond memories and even more fun, you quickly discovered that you’d be having to face a part of your past that you had yet to come to terms with.

It had been almost three years since the last time you had seen Draco Malfoy. It had been three years since the last straw had been drawn and you left his home in hurt tears. Three years since you had walked out of his life, making a silent vow to never see him again, even if it meant going out of your way to do so.

You never thought you’d reunite quite like this.

Luna Lovegood had always been a dear friend of yours, despite the fact that she was a year younger than you. Her kindness and eccentric nature had appealed to you in the best of ways. The bubbly Ravenclaw girl had blossomed into a wonderful woman, and it overjoyed you to see her beginning this new chapter.

Her wedding was exactly how you had imagined it. It was far from traditional, but it was stunning nonetheless. Luna was a radiant bride, and you were beyond happy for her. Your good mood, however, tanked when you saw the blonde headed man at the reception afterwards. Even though it had been a few years, Draco still looked as he did the night you left him.

It was a real punch in the gut to see him there, and you were almost convinced that someone had spiked your drink. You were sure that you were dreaming, or that he was just a weird figment of your imagination.

He was still tall and lean, and you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to follow the chiseled line of his jaw. He was wearing his nicest, favorite suit that still fit his frame perfectly. His voice was still serious and assertive, and his tone was still as it had always been. Make no mistake, it was still the same Draco Malfoy.

To make matters worse, it hurt like hell to see his arm wrapped around the very woman that caused your breakup.

You wouldn’t deny that there was bad blood between yourself and Draco. Things had ended on a rotten note and things were never discussed, so it was only natural that there was unspoken tension.

Now, you were sulking at the table just behind theirs, not even interested in the engaging conversation happening around you between friends of yours that you hadn’t seen in quite some time. You just couldn’t seem to look away. It was like if you looked away and then looked back, he wouldn’t be there anymore. However, your silly belief was dismantled when his gaze suddenly caught yours. Yep, he was definitely real and sitting right in front of you.

Because you knew those piercing gray eyes anywhere.

You half expected him to pay you no mind and look away as if he hadn’t seen you at all, maybe even ignore your presence completely. But no, his glance locked with yours for a solid few seconds. Minds racing, hands shaking, hearts beating.

You were actually the first to look away, attempting to shift your attention as if you hadn’t just seen the only man you ever loved after so much time had passed. Even if you had been listening to what was being said around you, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to hear a thing due to the thump of your heart in your ears.

A deep blush had tinted Draco’s pale cheeks, and he had yet to look away. Your mind trailed to the woman who was obviously his date, and it was someone you REALLY had hoped you’d never see again.

Astoria Greengrass was a beautiful woman. She was someone that you couldn’t help but compare yourself to. All the way from her voluminous hair to her impeccably pedicured toes. You had always thought of her to be the model of a picture perfect woman. But you never once thought that she was supposed to be competition for you.

It was a moment that would be permanently burned into your brain. No matter how hard you tried to forget (even going as far to use a spell on yourself) it still made its way back to you. It was a sickening sight, walking into your shared home with your boyfriend of 6 years to find him in bed with someone that had been under your nose the entire time.

It was a massive blow to your pride, trust, and your heart. Draco had pleaded with and begged you to forgive him and to let it go. In between your screams and cries, he promised that things could work out and that things could be the way they were before.

You had magic for a reason, and he could easily obliviate all three of you and no one would ever know. But he knew how dishonest that would be. And you hated dishonesty.

Astoria had ducked out of the house just when your fight was getting started, which was good for her because you were sure you would’ve done something you might regret later. You and Draco had fought for hours. So long that your throats had gone raw from all the yelling and your eyes were almost puffed shut from all the tears. You had told him it was over in a burst of anger and hurt, and left him alone in your bedroom almost falling to pieces.

And that was the last time you had seen Draco Malfoy.

His presence hadn’t totally disappeared from your life. His name popped up in conversations from time to time, and you’d often stumble upon pictures of the two of you during happier times. But what you had not realized until seeing him again was that he had not once left the safety of your heart.

You were still in love with Draco Malfoy.

Your experience at Luna’s wedding had taken a full turn, and now you found yourself incredibly uncomfortable. You shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was there. Luna and Rolf had invited just about anyone they had ever been in contact with. Still, it was throwing you for a loop that Draco was sitting right in front of you.

It was the beautiful, gentle music that began to play overhead that finally snapped you out of your daze. Along with Luna and her newly wed husband, a few couples had broken away from their designated tables to slow dance on the dance floor of the reception. It didn’t take long for the floor to be crowded with people.

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t fight the urge to let your eyes flicker back to Draco. It was almost like an instinct. It was a natural behavioral thing that was still as sharp as ever.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore, but his eyes were fixed on Astoria, who he had guided up from her seat and taken by the hand. A hot boiling sensation was building up in your gut at the sight of him leading her to the floor as well, holding her close and swaying with her to the comfort of the music. It wasn’t long before you were out on the floor as well, being spun around carefully by Blaise Zabini, whom you had been friends with throughout your years at Hogwarts. But your attention was far from Blaise.

Jealousy ran rampant through your core as you watched the way Draco’s hand rested on the small of Astoria’s back, his fingertips dancing across her. He looked down slightly into her dazzling eyes, a smile appearing on his face that was nothing short of lovestruck.

He had once danced with you like that. He had once held you like that. He had once looked at you like that. Granted, the situation usually involved the two of you alone in your living room under nothing but candlelight and music from one of your favorite shared records. But those were the moments that had always stuck with you.

The times where nothing else mattered but being together. The moments where the two of you felt like the only people in the world. When loving each other unconditionally was the only thing you ever wanted to do. Perhaps that was the hardest part of it all. The fact that you never knew where things went wrong. Your perfect relationship had crashed and burned unexpectedly with little explanations to why Draco decided that suddenly you weren’t enough.

Draco caught you staring for the second time, his focus visibly moving from the woman that was currently in his arms. He had this look of uncertainty in his expression, but as if he had already made his mind up. Before you could process anything that was happening, Draco broke away from Astoria, and he was standing next to you and Blaise.

“Mind if I take [Y/N] from you, Blaise?” Draco smiled radiantly at his old friend.

Your stomach hit your shoes seemingly. Blaise smirked, still as coy as always.

“Only if I can have a dance with your lady.” He grinned.

Draco chuckled lowly, allowing Blaise to take Astoria for a while. Despite everyone maneuvering around you, you felt like you were standing alone with Draco. You could only look at him, words failing to form. His hand trembled faintly as he held it out to you.

“Care to dance?” He offered.

Your head was screaming no, but your heart was screaming yes. You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not, considering you weren’t sure what this was all about. But as always, your heart’s desires won out.

“Sure.” You replied meekly.

A million fireworks exploded through you when his hand touched yours, pulling you in to him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his hands resting on your back the way they had with Astoria. He stroked your skin through the material of your dress, as lovingly as he had all the times before.

You were equal parts frustrated and desperate. Frustrated with yourself for still longing for him and missing him after all this time. Desperate for things to be the way they were before.

“You look wonderful.” He spoke quietly, careful not to disturb the peace of the atmosphere.

Oh, his voice. It was still deep and husky, but full of thought. It sent shivers down your spine that you hoped he couldn’t feel with his hand resting there.

“So do you.” You responded, wishing your heart would slow just long enough to get a hold of yourself.

He continued to hold you flush to him, taking in the scent of that same perfume you always wore. It flooded him with memories and remembrance.

Truth be told, you knew all along that you couldn’t get away with never seeing Draco again. Even if you hadn’t been together for quite some time, your circle was just too close to successfully dodge him forever. But this was not at all how you thought it would go.

If you were being completely honest, you thought you’d casually run into him in Diagon Alley or somewhere that you went often. You always imagined that you’d spot him from across the room and be filled with such a rage that you’d be too angry to speak to him or would explode into a huge fight scene. You’d storm out without ever trying to make real contact with him, and you’d try your hardest to go back to living as normally as possible. This was far from what you had ever dreamed of.

And you weren’t as angry as you always thought you’d be. Admittedly, there was still a pit of fury from the fact of his infidelity. But there was another feeling that seemed to wash that pit out completely. You weren’t angry at all really.

You were sad.

“How have you been?” He asked, stepping in sync with you to the music.

“Staying busy with work. How about you?”

You were a little shocked when he didn’t burst into rambles about everything you had missed out on in the last few years. Instead, he only shrugged as if he wasn’t too impressed with himself.

“I’ve been good. Mother and Father still ask about you.” He answered.

A quick glimmer of joy beamed on your face. Draco’s heart leapt with thrill.

“Do they? Oh, how are they, Dray?” You asked with eagerness to hear about his parents well-being, not even realizing the use of his nickname.

His heart swelled.

“They’re the same as always.” He replied.

You nodded briefly, changing the subject.

“That’s good,” You prompted, only continuing once nothing else was said; “It’s been a while.”

“It has. I’m happy you’re doing well.” Draco answered.

You had been trying to ignore it, but the cold metal of his ring was prevalent through your dress, and it told you everything you needed to know.

“So, you’re married now, huh?” You wondered aloud.

The blush returned to his cheeks, and he sucked in a breath.

“Yeah. Almost a year now,” He confirmed; “You?”

A flush of embarrassment and dread flooded your body. You didn’t want to have to tell him that you hadn’t moved on when he clearly had. It wasn’t that you hadn’t tried to meet and find someone new. A few boyfriends had come and gone since Draco, and while they were all great, none of them had captured your heart. Even if it had felt like it at times, the world didn’t stop spinning the night you left Draco Malfoy, so you knew there was someone else out there.

You just wished they’d come sooner rather than later.

“No, not yet. I suppose that I haven’t found the one yet.” You said in a way that was unintentionally hurtful, but still left a sting in both yours and Draco’s chest.

It felt like a lie to say that. You had convinced yourself that Draco was “the one” long ago. From time to time, you still thought that. Draco himself would confess that he had felt the same way about you. Spending forever with you was all he had ever wanted. Getting married, having kids, and falling more and more in love everyday.

He’d never forgive himself for messing all of that up.

Silence grew between the two of you. Something that never would’ve happened if the two of you were still together. You and Draco had never run out of things to talk about.

You remembered all the nights that he made love to you until neither of you could hold yourselves up. How could you forget the way he cherished every part of you as if it were crafted by the highest hand?

You recalled the way you craved his touch and how he could have you in a puddly, whining mess underneath his hands within mere seconds. You missed his touch. You missed all those times.

You missed him.

Now here you were. Like two total strangers who knew everything about each other. It was heartbreaking.

“I think about you. A lot.” Draco abruptly professed, his voice even quieter on the off chance that Astoria and Blaise might come back waltzing by.

Something you could only describe as pure shock blindsided you. You certainly weren’t expecting THAT at all. As much as you wanted to fling yourself at him, you knew this was wrong. Your head shook, feeling as if it weighed like a ton of bricks.

“Stop.” You meant to say as a stern instruction, but it came out more as a pleading whisper.

He chuckled at himself incredulously, not acknowledging your beg.

“It’s the truth,” He remarked; “You know, I thought that marrying Astoria would fix me. I thought it was going to fill the piece of my life that was missing.”

Your head was still rocketing off flight responses. Every neuron howling at you to stop listening. To ignore. To get over it. To forget. But you wouldn’t.

You couldn’t.

“But I was wrong. I was so wrong. It took me far too long to realize that you’re the only thing that could ever fill that missing piece. You complete that picture,” He explained; “You complete me.”

It was near impossible not to listen to what he was saying. If your heart were beating any harder then it would surely explode. Your eyes were shining with tears that you had been holding back for far too long.

“Draco, I...” You trailed off, your voice quivering.

“Shh. Don’t cry, my pretty girl,” He hushed; “I can leave her, you know. Astoria will never be what you were. I know it, and she knows it. She’ll never say that though.”

It seemed that you were growing more stunned with each word that fell from his lips. He was offering to leave his wife for you. He was more than willing to just drop everything for you. It was a lot to consider...but you weren’t exactly leaping at his invitation.

“We can start over. Just you and me. We can be everything we were before,” He said, leaning in to where his lips were just barely brushing your ear; “All you have to do is say yes.”

It was a hell of a tempting offer. You had a chance to go back to him, to make up for all the time that you lost. You could make more of those amazing memories that you held so close to you.

You could have a life with Draco once again.

As much as you wanted to cave and give him everything you possibly could, there was something that was stopping you from giving in to him. Because even though you had this chance, you knew that it would never be like it was before.

“I can’t.” You hushed out.

You could feel Draco’s heart sink. Now tears were brimming his own eyes, blearing his vision and causing a lump in his throat.

“Please, darling...” He begged; “Why not?”

You shook your head again, holding your breath to stop your own tears from falling down your cheeks. It was killing you to do this, but you knew it was the right thing.

No matter how bad it hurt.

“Because you and I both know it won’t be like it was before. No matter how many times we try to start over,” You told him; “You broke my trust. You broke my heart, Draco. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you for what you did.”

Determination and desperation flashed over his features.

“It was a mistake. A horrible, stupid mistake that I know for a fact that I never would’ve let happen again if you had stayed.” He pleaded.

You swallowed hard, forcing a sob back down.

“And if I had stayed, I’d never be able to go a day without wondering if that’s actually true.” You recanted.

Draco was shattered. He felt like he had been broken into millions of tiny bits that were thrown across the world.

Now he truly knew how you had felt since you left him.

“[Y/N], I-“ He went to say but was cut off.

“I’m sorry, Draco.” You apologized, eyeing Astoria and Blaise beginning to dance their way over to the two of you.

A single tear slipped from Draco’s left eye, the tear rolling down all the way to his jaw. The fate he had feared the most had just come true.

He had just lost his forever. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

All he could do was make sure he bared the rest of his heart to the woman he loved the most.

“I love you.” Draco proclaimed.

One of your hands came to cup his face, his head lulling in your soft touch.

“I love you, Draco.”

Before anything else could be said, Astoria and Blaise were at your side. She looked at Draco and back to you, you weren’t sure what it was, but she almost looked as if she knew everything that had just been said.

Without another word, you and Draco stopped dancing. Your arms fell from around him and his hold loosened so you could step away. Astoria’s hand rested on Draco’s shoulder as if to usher him away, but his hands were still holding yours.

His icy eyes looked into yours, as if to silently ask you once more if you would come with him. The look in your eyes told him that your mind was made up. You backed away from him, his fingertips only falling from yours once you were far enough away that he physically couldn’t reach you anymore.

Astoria whisked him away once you were out of their space. Both of you feeling much more empty than before. The rest of the night was much quieter for you. You kept to yourself, feeling as if you had been gutted completely.

And that was the last time you saw Draco Malfoy.

Your first wish of never wanting to see him again came true after that night. You never saw or heard from him again. You constantly found yourself wondering how things turned out for him. You wondered if he stayed with Astoria. You wondered if they had kids. You wondered if they spent forever together.

You wondered if they did all the things that you and Draco were supposed to do.

Your heart never fully moved on from Draco. And his never moved on from you. It was a reality you were never able to come to terms with, but there was one truth that you became all too familiar with.

Sometimes there just are no happy endings.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy oneshot #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #seriouslysnape

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ladyfogg · 3 years

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Another Round

Fic Summary: You and Colin have been avoiding each other ever since the two of you were interrupted the other night. However, when Mare calls you to come to the bar to pick up Colin, you’re left with no choice but to deal with a very drunk Detective Zabel. Love Exists Masterpost. The Evans Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: Mature

Pairing: Colin Zabel/Female Reader

Warnings: Language, mild spoilers

All you want is a quiet evening at home.

The investigation into Erin’s death had shaken everyone to the core in Easttown, and you are no exception. In a place where everyone knows everyone, to have such a sudden and violent crime happen is enough to put the citizens on edge. You are feeling it and you sure as hell know Mare is feeling it. You’ve been doing everything in your power to be there for her and do what she needs but it’s hard since you’re not a full-blown detective. At least, not yet. You hope to be one day once you’ve had enough training and gone through all the proper channels.

For now, you’re content on being Mare’s trainee. Well, more like assistant but technically you’re a trainee. Actually, your exact title is Junior Detective but it makes you feel like you should be wearing a badge made of construction paper attached to your shirt by a safety pin. So you stick with trainee. Though that hasn’t stopped Mare from calling you ‘Junior’. Whether it’s to keep you at arm’s length or she just enjoys annoying the shit out of you, you’re not sure. You assume it’s a little of both.

Anyway, back to the quiet evening thing. You’ve been home for a few hours, settled into your tiny apartment with a slew of snacks and the latest crime docuseries on Netflix when your phone goes off.

You see it’s Mare and immediately pick up. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine.” You can barely hear her over the background nose. Tons of people are talking over each other with loud music thrown into the mix. “Sorry to call you so late but I need you to come down to the bar.”

“Do we have a lead?”

“Not exactly. It’s Zabel.”

Instantly your heart drops and you get to your feet, immediately scouring the floor for your discarded shoes. “Did something happen? Is Colin alright?”

In the background, you hear, “Heeeey, hey, Mare! Is that her? Are you calling her? Lemme talk to her.”

You hear her struggle for a moment before telling him to knock it off. “He’s fine. Just drunk as shit,” she says once she manages to get the phone back from him. “Can you come pick him up and take him home?”

“Oh, um…alright.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. No, not at all.”

“I just figured since you two—”

“Oh we didn’t end up…we haven’t…” You stop yourself from going any further and embarrassing the both of you. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Ever since Mare interrupted you and Colin about to go at it in his hotel room, things have been more than a little awkward. Despite confessing how much you like each other, neither you nor he has made another move. Before it was spontaneous and a spur-of-the-moment decision, fueled by passion and excitement. By now, you have lost yourself in your own head and you get the sense he has too.

The two of you can’t even make eye contact without him quickly looking away and blushing. It’s adorable, yet incredibly frustrating to say the least. But the case is more important and you’ve been more than happy to forget about the embarrassing incident.

When you get to the bar, you’re faced with a vastly different Colin than you’re used to. The second you walk through the door, he calls your name excitedly and stumbles over, beer in hand.

“Oh my gosh you’re here,” he slurs, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Mare! MARE! She’s here!”

“Yeah, I know, Zabel, I called her.” Mare’s face is as stoic as ever, and yet you can still see the corners of her lips twitch up into an amused smile.

“You wanna shot?” he asks you. “Yeah! YEAH, let’s get shots! Imma get you a shot!”

“No, Colin, I’m good,” you say but he’s already stumbling away. “Colin? Colin! Oi, whatever. How long has he been like this?”

“Since I got here,” Mare says, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Sorry, I thought you two were…I mean, the other night…”

“Nothing happened,” you say. “Since, you know, you interrupted. Things have kind of been awkward and we haven’t really talked about it.”

“Well, he’s certainly in a talkative mood tonight,” Mare says as you both watch Colin flag down the bartender and loudly ask for two shots. “Just make sure he gets back to the hotel in one piece, alright?”

“Will do, boss.”

“Thanks, junior.”

“Ugh, you know I hate it when you call me that.”

She smirks, patting you on the shoulder as she walks by. “I know.”

You make your way through the crowd to the bar where Colin is currently leaning. “Come on, Colin. I’ll take you home,” you say.

“Not before you do a shot with me!” he insists.

“Can’t, I’m driving. Besides, I think you’ve had enough.”

“Come ooooonnnn,” he slurs, nudging you with his shoulder. “Just’the one lil one? Then I’ll go…scout’s honor!”

You can’t help but chuckle, not used to seeing him so carefree and silly. After a moment of contemplation, you ease yourself onto the nearby stool. “Fine. Just the one.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Colin exclaims, sitting next to you. “Shottttsss!”

The bartender slides two shots over and you make a subtle motion for him to cut Colin off. He gives you a nod of acknowledgment, slyly swiping Colin’s half-full beer bottle as he moves on to take care of someone else.

“Okay, okay, okay, we need a toast,” Colin says, handing you one of the shots.

“Oh really? To what?”

“Hmmmmm…” Colin’s face scrunches adorably as he tries to get his drunk mind to think. “How ‘bout to us?”

You raise your eyebrow. “Us?”

Colin leans in close, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice dropping low. “Us. You know, me an’ you.”

“Didn’t know there was a me and you.”

“Could be. Should be. We did almost…you know.” He leans in close to your ear and loudly whispers, “Have sex.”

“Yes, yes we did almost have sex.”

“So?” he gestures with his shot, spilling some in the process. “To us?”

“To us then.”

You clink your shot glass against his before knocking the drink back, trying to hold in a cough as the liquid burns your throat. “Dear god that’s strong.”

“YUP.” Colin slams his shot glass down on the countertop, then winces when he realizes what he did. “Oops. Is’okay. S’not broken.”

“And we’d like to keep it that way,” you say, sliding the glasses off to the side. “So, what you say I take you home?”

“Wait, wait, wait, not yet. Let’s talk.” He puts his hand on your arm to stop you from standing. “We need’a talk.”

“About?”

“I’m sorry about the other night,” he apologizes, head slumping on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to apologize, Colin. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I did. I did. I should’a talked to you about it after but I chickened out.”

“Yeah, well, I could have talked to you too. I guess I also chickened out.”

“Here’sa thing. I jus’…you’re soooo beautiful and I get all tongue-tied around you and say stupid shit and I know you’re going to realize there’s someone better for you, and I just…”

Realizing he was way too far gone to be having such a serious conversation in the bar, you slide your arm around his waist. “Hey, hey, let’s talk about it later, okay? Come on. Let’s get you home.”

“Home’s too farrrr.”

“I meant your hotel room.”

“I don’t like it there. Take me to your place.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I won’t try anything. Swear. I jus’…I don’t wanna go back to my empty hotel room.”

Your heart aches at the puppy-dog eyes he gives you and you find yourself relenting. “Fine. But you’re sleeping on the sofa and I’m not cleaning it up if you get sick all over yourself.”

“Thas’fair.”

You help Colin settle his tab with the bartender and then you escort him out of the bar, your arm still around his waist. His arm goes around your shoulders again but it’s mostly so he can attempt to walk straight. Eventually, you are able to load him into your car before climbing behind the wheel. The shot didn’t do much of anything and with your place being so close, you know you’re okay to drive.

Colin reclines his seat back, shutting his eyes. As you make your way towards home, you’re sure he’s fallen asleep until you hear, “Y’know, y’er really pretty.”

You smile to yourself, keeping your eyes on the road. “Thanks, Colin. I think you’re pretty too.”

“Really???”

“Yes.”

“Ugh, I’m so stupid. Should’a called you for a date the day after all that happened.”

“It’s okay.”

“NO! No is’not. I ghosted you.”

“Colin, I don’t think it’s ghosting if the other person doesn’t reach out to you either.”

“It’s not?”

“Not really. Pretty sure that just ignoring each other.”

“Oh. Okay good. Well, not good we ignored each other. Good you didn’t think I ghosted you. Cuz I would NEVER do that to you.”

“Good to know.”

“And you won’t do that to me. I know you won’t. You’re too sweet. You wouldn’t break up with me two weeks before our wedding.”

Your heart sinks when he says this. Chancing a glance at him, you notice how sad his eyes are. Truth be told, you don’t know much about Colin, mostly because with the intensity of the case, the two of you haven’t had time to properly get to know each other. But his drunk words are way too specific to be a hypothetical scenario.

“Is that what happened to you?” you ask tentatively.

“Yup. Not sure how it happened. Or why. She just woke up and said, ‘hey, I’m not in love with you anymore’. And I’m like ‘s’ok, can I put my bagel down first?’…” he babbles, head rolling to the side so he can look at you. “Jus’ like that. Done. No more.”

You reach over to take his hand. “I’m sorry, Colin. That’s…that’s really shitty.”

“Isn’t it? I mean…I don’t know wha’ happened. But…whatareyou gonna do?” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to his lips so he can place a sloppy kiss on your knuckles. “We’ve been driving for a loooong time.”

“It’s been five minutes.”

“Really?!”

“Just close your eyes. We’ll be there soon.”

“M’kay.”

Not long after, you pull into your driveaway, letting go of his hand so you can park the car and shut it off. You sit there for a minute, admiring his side profile as he lays there with his eyes closed. He is a handsome man. You can stare at him all day. Every time he greets you with that wide smile, your heart skips a beat and your stomach does a little flip-flop thing.

He must feel you staring because he opens his eyes and gives you a crooked smile. “We there yet?”

You smile back. “Yeah, we’re here. Let’s get you inside.”

“Okaaay.”

With you guiding him and doing most of the work, you help Colin up the walkway to your place, pausing now and then when he sways and puts too much weight on you. Once inside, you dump him onto the couch before going back to lock your front door. Briefly, you pause to send Mare a text letting her know you’re both safe, before shutting your phone off and tossing it onto the counter. You shrug out of your coat and shoes before rejoining Colin in the living room where you left him.

“This is a nice place,” he says, sprawled out on the couch with his head nearly hanging off the armrest. “Looks homey.”

“If by homey you mean small, then yeah. It’s real homey. Come on. Sit up so we can get your coat off.”

“Tryin’a strip me down, you saucy minx,” he slurs, leaning forward as you try to pull the long coat off his arms. “I know your game and I accept.”

Laughing softly, you manage to wrestle him out of the coat before he flops backward. “No games tonight, Zabel.”

“Fine but at least a kiss?”

“That’s definitely not a good idea.”

“Jus’a lil one…come on, lil kiss…” he says in a soft voice, trying to lean in. “Jus’a peck. Lil smooch.”

Still laughing, you gently force him to lay back down. “Not while your drunk. Maybe in the morning if you’re feeling better we can have a little smooch.”

“Been thinking about kissin’ you for days,” he admits as you start to untie his shoes for him. “And picturing you on top of me. That was nice. I liked that. Let’s do that.”

You toss him a grin as you slide the shoe off his foot. “Like I said. Maybe…If you’re a good boy.”

His smile widens and he wags his eyebrows. “I’ll be’a good boy for you.”

After ridding him of his other shoe, you tuck a blanket around him. “Sleep it off, Colin. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t go,” he urges, grabbing your hand as you make a move to stand. “Not yet. Don’t go yet. It’s jus’…I wanna talk to you.”

“Okay. About what.”

“Everythin’. Anythin’. LIFE! Let’s talk about life.”

“It is way too late and you’re way too drunk to talk about life.”

“It’s just…the thing is…I’m getting to that age, right? I’m getting to that age where I’m starting to look at my life and I’m going…well, here’s what I thought it would be and…here’s what it actually is…” He throws his hands up with a sigh and a shrug, letting his thought hang there.

You’re all too familiar with that feeling. And yet, you have no idea how to respond. He’s not the only one looking at his life and wondering what the hell. There you are, living in the same town where you grew up, a detective in training living in a shitty, tiny apartment with neighbors who press their noses to the window every time you set outside. You haven’t had a relationship in years, mainly because you know every single guy in town and have grown up with them. The thought of dating and settling down with any of them does not appeal to you in the slightest. Never did. Not that that’s the only way to live your life but it’s something you would like to do someday. With the right person.

“Am I making any fucking sense?” he asks, more to himself than to you.

“Yeah, yeah, you are.” You reach up to lay a hand on his cheek. “Get some rest, okay. I’ll be just in the other room if you need me.”

“Mmm, okay. Rest sounds good. Sleep good.”

He rolls onto his side, taking your hand with him and almost pulling you across his body. You manage to wiggle free with a chuckle. By the time you get up to shut off the living room light, he’s already snoring.

You have too many questions and not enough answers. This man, this big hero detective that is supposed to help solve the case seems just as lost and alone as you feel. You wonder if that’s why you were drawn together. Two lost, lonely souls who found each other among such darkness.

Too tired to go down that train of thought, you slip away to your room, wondering just how much Colin will remember in the morning.

#colin zabel #evan peters #mare of easttown spoilers #love exists

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todoscript · 3 years

Text

lilies & lilacs pt. i

SUMMARY: A dilemma with his grand charity gala brings Todoroki Shouto, CEO of Todoroki Enterprises, at your humble flower shop’s doorstep.

pairing: ceo!todoroki shouto x florist!reader

genre: eventual smut. fluff. slow burn. no quirks au.

word count: 5.6k+

warnings: none in this part, but expect sexual content in the future.

author’s note: this has been rotting in my wips for a couple of months now, but i finally decided to post it with the decision of progressing the story into parts. thank you to the lovely rosie aka @shoutogepi for initially betareading this and keeping the hype up for the fic in our chats together (love you <333)! feedback is welcomed and before you ask, im opening a taglist for the next 2 parts so just ask if you wish to be included

The uneasy padding of her boss’ dress shoes across the floor of his office made the secretary restless. She knew the bad news she delivered would cause some displeasure to stir within him, but never would she expect his tough bearings to falter, his troubles conveyed in hasty steps and frayed skin skewing those handsome features.

During the past two years she’s worked for him, she always thought his expression was nearly unreadable. When it came to his high position, her boss was forward and direct at conducting business—calm, stoic, and a perfect representation of efficiency and strong work ethic in his field. So while she witnessed the man’s uncharacteristic distress before her eyes, she wasn’t sure how this could end well for her.

Sweat began beading her forehead at the tension creeping between each tap of his feet against the hardwood below, coming to an unnerving halt behind his desk. When her eyes found his, all she could gather in those gray and turquoise clouds was annoyance toward their current predicament.

“What do you mean we don’t have a florist booked yet?” he repeated the dilemma she relayed to him merely moments ago. Hearing the agitation in his voice caused a nervous gulp to drop in her throat. She clutched her clipboard firmly in her arms to keep herself anchored in the wake of her boss’ growing frustration. However, she was still unsure how to continue as the words remained sealed in her mouth.

“Well?” Noticing his secretary’s lack of response, he pushed forward, hands leaning against the edge of his mahogany desk. The woman urged herself to endure the obstacles by first breathing through her nose before swallowing the lump in her throat, responding quickly.

“Um, Mr. Todoroki, sir, it seems all the florists on our list have all been booked for other events for the rest of the month,” she said, but mentally scolded herself when she heard herself sputter in such an unprofessional manner. Despite that, she prayed the explanation was enough to sate even a fraction of her boss’ inner turmoil.

Shouto approached her answer with silence before that foreseeable sigh left his lips, spilling with exasperation. He turned, his back facing the secretary, gaze lined to the windows gracing him with sunlight behind his desk. Stuck in contemplation, he pinched the bridge of his nose, mouth pursed in a firm line.

Where am I going to find a florist in time for this damn charity gala? He internally griped, closing his eyes as if that would help him uncover the solution to this untimely mess.

His esteemed company, Todoroki Enterprises, had arranged a plan to hold a widely anticipated charity gala by the end of this month. The event was conducted to raise funds for all manners of different charities that would vary in the level of grandeur on display. And given that the organizing for the event would be under his very name, Shouto had the critical responsibility of ensuring nothing but peak quality to those that would attend.

His staff had long procured the venue and were managing the layout of the gala. They sought out some suitable entertainment, booked catering, and scheduled for the charity auctions and raffles to take place throughout the night. What was still needed were the decorations, and right now that was where they hit their deadend with no florist currently reserved.

And here’s the real kicker: the gala was two weeks away.

Two. Weeks.

How he allowed for such errors to occur was beyond him at this point. All that really mattered was that he found a way to correct those mistakes and fast.

As much as Shouto figured he could skip past the flowers and substitute them with some other kind of flashy decorations, he already had a clear idea of how he wanted the gala to look. The floral arrangements would compliment the theme of the event exceedingly well. Turning back on the plan would be an insult to everyone’s prepared attire for the evening, with the dress code already sent out to all the distinguished guests invited to this grandiose ball. No doubt in his mind, he needed that florist, and needed them stat.

Sure on his resolution, he finally shifted to face his secretary. The anxious expression plastered on her face greeted him, and at that, Shouto bit his lip. His guilt surfaced for allowing his emotions to affect his workspace. He knew better than to take out his frivolous thoughts on his staff, who very well had no control over the situation. So he eased the atmosphere, attempting to lift the tension surrounding his office in the dreary gray of his temper.

“Nishiyama, I’m sorry for my behavior just now,” he apologized. The secretary, in turn, was taken aback, eyes widened. Her anxiety slowly whittled away as she scampered to return his kind gesture.

“Oh no, sir, it’s fine! I’m sure you were just feeling stressed hearing the news. I surely would be if I were in your shoes.”

“No, it’s not. I was acting childish despite how much you and everyone have done so far for the event,” Shouto said, “I should be thankful for your time, considering you also have a family to take care of at home.”

While the woman stared at him, abashed by his sincerity, Shouto swiveled his chair around to take a seat. A much-needed seat to be entirely honest. His secretary was not kidding about how the bad news seemed to harrow some stress in his body. But, being accustomed to having this weight pushed on his shoulders from the very moment he was announced the head of the company many years ago, he more than anticipated the stress to come with the job.

Shouto spared his secretary one last glance before his eyes darted down between the important papers sprawled on his desk. “If that’s all the news we needed to address today then you’re dismissed, Nishiyama. Carry on with the rest of the organizing as planned,” he ordered. Nishiyama lowered her clipboard to her hip.

“R-Right. Thank you, sir.” She parted his presence with a curt bow. Shouto picked up on her heels clicking toward his office door until they suddenly stopped altogether, looking back at the man midway. “What about the florist, sir?” she asked, concerned at the unresolved predicament lingering in the air. Her question wasn’t met with an immediate reply, but Shouto eventually gave her an answer he deemed adequate of a response. His words were coated with as much reassurance as he could muster in this situation.

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it myself.”

The task was easier said than done.

Usually, when it came to booking a florist for special occasions like this, you’d want to contact them months ahead of the scheduled date to ensure maximum efficiency and work out any problems that should arise. But there were only two weeks left until the awaited charity gala.

Shouto was certainly pushing his luck at this point and to a dangerous degree. If he didn’t find someone to arrange the flowers for the ball soon, the venue might be absent of all life and mood, essentially flopping from missing such a key element. Shouto could not allow for that to happen.

Given his word, he took it in his hands to rectify this mistake. For the entirety of the day, he sifted through the aforementioned list of florists his secretary had provided him—extended thanks to his team’s desperate search for more options.

All he had to do was narrow down the lineup. Unfortunately, those efforts may as well have been all for naught.

“Hello, is this Himawari’s Garden? I’d like to speak with the head florist there about arranging the flowers for a gala my company has been planning—”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but we’re currently busy preparing for a big wedding coming up next week. If you’d like, I can try and book our services for you toward the next month or so when we’ll be available?”

Shouto’s brows tightened during the exchange—a gesture he’d been repeating as of late while he dwindled the line of florists. If he kept it up, those wrinkles might be embedded into his skin permanently. He was at least grateful he managed to thwart the heavy breath of air that threatened to leave his lips and reveal his frustration to the woman on the phone.

“No, that’s fine. Thank you for your time.” With that, he hung up.

Shouto leaned back in his seat in exasperation, his weight pressed into the cushions as his eyes situated themselves toward the ceiling. The consistent taps of his fingers on his mahogany desk were all he heard amidst his deep contemplation. His eyes lidded shut in an attempt to seek a moment of refuge from the stress, but his conscience began eating at him.

Of course, what was he thinking? The beginnings of spring to late autumns were the mark of wedding season—the time where florists and other businesses specializing in decorative arrangements thrived and busied themselves with eager clients. Not only that, but it was also the month of June. The sixth month of the year was undoubtedly the most popular month among couples to hold their weddings, and he had witnessed this fact firsthand through his myriad of fruitless phone calls.

Shouto had thoroughly wrung through his rope and teetered on the edge of complete defeat. He sealed down his most recent loss at the hand of another busy floral business by striking a line across Himawari’s Garden on his list. At that, the total tallied to thirty whole flower shops. Thirty unsuccessful attempts.

That sigh he contained during the phone call found its way out of his throat in dramatic waves of displeasure

“You alright, sir?”

His administrative assistant, Midoriya Izuku, heard his huffs when he entered the threshold of Shouto’s office. He noted his boss’ hunched posture and the rare crease crinkled between his nose bridge, pressed against his hands that were clenched together above his desk.

“I’m guessing the new list of florists was also a no-go?”

Shouto didn’t offer any words, instead sliding said list—now fully crossed out—toward his assistant as his reply. Craning his head for a better look, Midoriya feigned a smile, not wanting to let the man’s defeat consume the mood entirely.

“Well... I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised… Wedding season is upon us after all.”

Oh yes, Midoriya. Shouto knew that very well. So much so that he sunk further into his desk at the reminder, head practically drooped with a gloomy rain cloud hovering atop him. The green-haired assistant fervently shook his head back-and-forth upon realizing his remark had thrown salt into his wound. “Oh, I-I mean... Don’t worry, sir! I’m sure we’ll still be able to sort out this problem in time before the gala!” he sputtered to help alleviate the despair that crept in, but it came to no avail according to his boss’ silent sulky demeanor. That was when Midoriya remembered the two cups of hot coffee held in each of his hands.

“Ah, right, I made you some coffee! I figured you could use one considering you’ve been cooped up in your office all day.” Setting one in front of him, Shouto perked up at the nutty aroma that slowly slipped into his senses. He eyed the fresh cup of coffee tentatively, the steam flitting above it in wisps.

Lifting the cup, the rich smell wafted further into his nostrils, imbuing him with that familiar peace he usually reveled in. On any ordinary day, he’d be accompanied by his classic roasted blend perched on his desk, with no problems threatening to disturb his peaceful routine. Not anything like today. Not anything like this dilemma of a desperate time crunch for a florist.

Perhaps that was what he needed. A filter of caffeine to wash away the ordeal like it was a bad morning plaguing him with baggy under-eyes and fatigue from a previous day of hard work. Though he’s sure not even caffeine could erase the headaches he developed throughout his day so far. If anything, indulgence would just make those headaches worse.

Nonetheless, he welcomed the smooth blend of flavors that ebbed down his throat through modest sips, rejuvenation quickly oozing in his veins. Headaches or not, the stimulation from the caffeine was essential if he wanted to combat the rest of the day with some drive.

“Thanks, Midoriya. I needed that,” Shouto acknowledged. He nodded at his assistant, who rubbed the back of his head modestly, saying how it was no problem at all, but the way his boss suddenly got up from his seat interrupted his words.

Shouto already felt the strong coffee going to work as his steps picked up in long strides around his desk that had the assistant’s brows knitting together, confused. “Where are you going, sir?” Midoriya asked, his voice sounding more distant to Shouto, who continued his way past him and toward the door.

“A quick drive,” was the blatant answer he gave. He downed the last of the cup before tossing it in the trash bin near the exit of his office. “Something to clear my head a bit. I’ll be back soon, but until then, keep reaching out to any businesses that could potentially be available to help us.”

“Yes, of course, sir! You can count on me!” Midoriya was prompt in replying. As expected, being Shouto’s right-hand man at the company.

With that, Shouto took to the parking lot below his building, twirling his keys over his index finger before hopping into his Mercedes and driving off.

The withering sunlight cast its glare over his car during his ride through the city. By now, the skies splayed vibrant red as the sun gandered above the horizon. He drove down the narrow and busy streets that kept the place bustling at these hours. It was likely the time when people finished up their workday and were eager to arrive home for much-needed rest.

During a particularly long wait at a red traffic light, he pondered over his predicament again. His thumb rapped against the steering wheel while he bit his bottom lip, that ugly feeling of regret seeping into his thoughts.

Maybe he placed too much faith in these flowers after all. Sure, he mentioned the vital role they played in aligning with the theme and complimenting the guests’ attires. But was it worth all the trouble he put his team through, searching through a throng of businesses already busy with their own events to organize? In a way, this could’ve been sorted out had he recognized the current times and planned accordingly to avoid the mess. But now they were trapped in this bind, crunching for anyone that could help them within only fourteen short days.

Just as he weighed the idea of calling Midoriya over the bluetooth in his car to drop the floral arrangements altogether, something caught his eye at the last second.

Shouto peered through his window, squinting at the corner, where he spotted a cart of flowers in front of a shop of some sort. His grip tightened around the leather of his steering wheel as he leaned in for a better look. Some kind of spark in him roused his anticipation the more he shifted forward in his seat, like the hope that was slowly fading inside was igniting once again.

Another inch further and he attained a better look of the shop. Its sign came into view just below the small boundary of his window—letters brushed in calligraphy on a long board of canvas with lilies painted on the edges that seamed together into a bouquet.

N… Neigh… Neighborhood Lily.

He deciphered the words, but didn’t give them much thought. All that enveloped his mind afterward was the fact the name wasn’t any of the list of thirty shops he phoned today. So the very moment the light overhead flickered to green, Shouto’s hold on the wheel tightened. His foot gradually stepped on the pedal with much more purpose.

He decided to take a brief detour from this casual little drive of his.

It was about six o’clock when you waved off your latest customer, who was leaving the shop with a basket of vibrant tulips swinging on their arm. The smile on their face was an adamant indication they were more than happy with their time here, something you always delighted in, being very passionate about your job as a florist.

“Thank you, and please come again!” The bell overhead gave a gracious chime at the customer’s departure.

With them gone, you drew your attention back to the flowers laid out on the small wooden table in the corner of the shop. Before the customer came in, you were at work arranging and crafting the blossoms you purchased from the flower market that morning into bouquets.

You’d be closing in about an hour and thirty minutes or so, but for now, you basked in the silence and the calming aroma of the flowers that surrounded you while you continued your work. A modest hum naturally sang past your lips and soothed its way into the shop that was devoid of all souls except yourself.

“Hm, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” You made some small talk with the rose in your hand. It was a habit of yours to spill a few words out within your own little world, imagining the flowers were keeping you company whenever you were alone.

“And there, now you all look even prettier.” An adoring smile embellished your lips as you finished off another bouquet by tying it with a silk ribbon. Looking over the bundle one more time, you thoroughly admired the shades of pinks and reds that complimented each other in the ensemble.

Then two more bouquets down, and you already made a good amount of progress. You figured that if you kept up the pace, you’d likely finish the rest of the batch and have them ready for display tomorrow. But just as you clasped three more flowers in your hand, the bell atop the door chimed, alerting you to a new patron.

You nicked off a thorn from one of the stems before turning around and giving your attention to the visitor. When your eyes found their way to the shop’s entrance, you were surprised to meet a man of slicked white and red hair. The few strands that found their way out of the gel must have been tussled from a long day of work considering the fatigue plain on his handsome face.

Despite the few wrinkles here and there, his attire was still surprisingly pristine. He wore a simple yet compelling suit, the fit seeming tailored to the contours of his body that rendered you a tad speechless at how good he looked just standing there. The sight almost made you feel underdressed.

You hadn’t realized you were staring for longer than you deemed appropriate. You couldn’t help it, being that the stranger was a stark contrast to the regular customers you were used to. The fanciest you’ve encountered since you opened your shop were the young boys that rushed in with nicely fitted tops and jeans, frantically inquiring about what kinds of flowers were right to give to a girl for a date they had later that day. Not anything like attractive businessmen in immaculate suits and shining silver wristwatches that surely cost more than all the flowers you tended here.

Noticing you were gawking, you blinked thrice to knock yourself out of your trance and properly greet the man.

“H-Hello, welcome to Neighborhood Lily,” you said, mustering the politest tone you could give to make up for the awkward moment of wordless eye contact. You must have kept your eyes on him for what felt like a good five minutes at least. The man, in turn, acknowledged you with a small grin, much to your relief.

“How may I help you this evening?”

“I’m…” he hesitated, seeming wary of how he wanted to go about his next choice of words, “just looking for now,” he decided.

Not paying much mind to his hesitation, you nodded. “Oh, well, if you have any questions or need any help on anything, please let me know. I’ll just be around the corner!”

Allowing him to go about his business, you returned to your table of flowers and oversaw the blossoms again. However, it was difficult for you to busy yourself with the task at hand. The mere thought of the other presence in the shop was enough to hammer you out of your concentration.

He was already a compelling figure on his own, what with his good-looks accompanied by his classy ensemble that felt more than out of place here. But what you were especially curious about was what business he had at a humble flower shop like yours during this hour.

That curiosity led your eyes straying to the side, where you peeped the man walking through the small aisle of flowers. He examined the bouquets and vases on display, even showing interest in the more decorative pieces hung in pots from the ceiling.

You tried to determine what his motives were. He was showing some considerable intrigue at your arrangements, though perhaps it was pure admiration for your work, and you were letting your self-consciousness get to you.

Well, spying would just get you nowhere, you thought. One way or another, he’d answer your curiosity by either coming to you directly or leave the shop altogether. You had to admit you hoped more for the former.

Until then, you tore your gaze away and resumed gathering flowers in your hands. You assessed their compatibility with one another while you fiddled around with their placement in the bouquet. The white lilies and the blue lilacs went very well, along with another set of light violet lilacs you couldn’t help but string into the bundle. As a result, the beautiful balance of cool tones made for an exceptional well-made bouquet. You finished the piece with a matching white satin ribbon and then let the arranged flowers thrive inside a glass vase.

“Those are very pretty.”

Startled at the voice, you whipped your head around, hands braced behind you against the edge of the wooden table. Your untimely lack of words were a result from realizing the owner of the voice was closer than you anticipated.

The businessman went from lingering around the aisle of flowers in the middle of the shop, to appearing in your proximity.

“E-Excuse me?” you asked, wondering if you heard correctly to which he pointed at the bouquets laid finished on the table. “In fact, all the flowers here are exceptionally beautiful.” He gestured to the entirety of the shop. His eyes quickly roamed across all the decorative flourishes before they came back to you.

“You do excellent work here in your shop.”

Words coming from a man like him made you bashful. You subconsciously played with the hem of your apron, eyes drifting to anywhere but his face at the compliment. However, the sliver of heat fluttering to your cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Oh, um, thank you. It’s nothing really, I’ve been arranging flowers for quite some time while at the last floristry I worked for so I have a fair amount of experience.”

After another second of fiddling with the fabric, your hands ended up falling to your sides. You sauntered toward one of the flower vases that were already set on display, dawdling around the conversation. His eyes followed you, watching you nurture the blossoms. “I opened this flower shop of mine just recently actually. Been getting a decent amount of business here and there, but I’m just glad that the people who’ve visited so far like my work,” you told him, twirling a strand of your hair. The pads of your other hand brushed against the soft, abundant petals of a yellow chrysanthemum.

The man observed your actions, analyzing your face. He distinguished the devotion hidden in your eyes as you looked upon the flower with a luster. Despite your humble character, it was more than clear to him you were very passionate about what you did, relishing in the ambiance and admiring the modest appearance of this little shop of yours, covered in the wonderful aroma of flowers.

You didn’t detect that deep breath of air he earnestly drew in as he stepped closer. So close that his proximity broke your stupor to meet his rigid expression.

“How would you feel about an… opportunity to let more of your work be known?”

“An opportunity?” you echoed. “Wait… do you maybe have a wed—”

“No,” he interjected, so abruptly that you couldn’t help but quirk a brow. Catching himself, he took a moment to clear his throat, mindful of his behavior. “I mean, it’s not a wedding. Rather, a charity gala that my company has been planning for some time.”

“A gala?” Your mouth worked faster than your mind, accidentally blurting out your thoughts. The astonishment was evident in your tone; it made the man question your reaction by leaning in.

“Yes, a gala,” he said again like you didn’t just hear his words from a foot away, without even realizing the lengths behind his baffling offer. “Is there something wrong about that?”

“N-No. It just wasn’t the kind of opportunity I expected it to be is all… A gala…” Your voice hushed around the utter of “gala”.

What the man presented so blatantly was unexpected to your ears. Galas meant a pompous party full of people decked in lavish attires, drinking quality champagne from tulip glasses. Sizing up the man again, you could only imagine this gala would only include the most important and wealthiest people in attendance.

You had to ask something, “Um, about this gala... How many people will be there?”

“Maybe about... five hundred or so? I’ll have to check in with my assistant to confirm the full count again.” He shrugged nonchalantly and yet on your end, hearing the number almost reduced your head to a dizzy mess.

Five hundred guests? It was a number you couldn’t fathom. You hadn’t even been booked for an occasion as ordinary as a baby shower, but this man wanted you to arrange flowers for his big charity gala?

As oddly enticing of a job it was to you, there had to be anyone else more experienced and capable for this.

“Sir, I’m not su—”

“The pay, of course, will be more than generous, and I’ll even provide you funding for any necessary materials for this project,” he chimed in before you could voice your protest. It was then that you began to distinguish something laced in his voice and exhibited on his face.

Desperation.

This man seemed desperate for some reason.

“May I ask when the event will take place?” Your arms crossed against your chest. A gulp formed in his throat at the question, unsure if he wanted to unveil the news or risk scaring you off. Either way, if you were working for him, you’d learn eventually. A sigh came out.

“Two weeks,” he answered.

Oh yeah, that explained it. It also answered any questions you had over the tension rigid in his shoulders. At this point, you were bound to join him in his stress because, goddamn, organizing a whole assembly of flowers for a grand ball within fourteen days? The idea was beyond daunting.

While you reflected on the intimidating pieces of information, he was gauging your reaction. Would you say yes? No? Laugh at the idea that he thought he could find a florist to work for him at such late notice? There were a slew of uncertainties twisting in his head—an act unbecoming of him, but you were his last hope. Whatever you responded with next would either be the nail in his coffin or the wings that made him soar.

You would be treading on uncharted waters at a chance like this, having never sailed anywhere beyond your little island of floristry where people came and went with your humble little arrangements. But you also thought of this as a daring opportunity to find new land. See what the world had in store for you outside of selling the general bouquets and vases you had on display. Plus, when would a chance like this ever come up again?

Though it meant encountering difficulties along the way, taking on such a big challenge right off the bat, you figured you’d be able to keep your boat afloat. You were also sure the journey toward bigger regions would be worth the struggle in the end.

“So do you have your answer?” he pressed forward when your silence became unbearable to his nerves. He thanked the fact that his voice managed to sound steady enough not to give himself away. Your arms remained crossed in front of you, your hand coming beneath your chin the only sign that you were taking his offer to heart. It kept the flickering flames of hope blazing inside him.

“I just want to ask you something,” you replied. He nodded, allowing you to continue.

“I know you’re under pressure with this gala coming up in only two weeks,” you began. Your arms unraveled, and your fingers ran to your apron again. You formed the next bit of words with uncertainty, “but are you sure I’m the right person for this job? I mean, I don’t have much to offer you in terms of skill other than what I have here.” You nudged at the range of your shop, plain as can be though with a generous amount of flourishes on display. Yet nothing you thought special enough to be graced by him and his grand proposal that evening.

“I just don’t want you to regret your decision.”

There was a pause of silence after that. The man seemed to give your words some thought—a quick reflection on the situation. You couldn’t decipher much in his face, but you happened to take some time to admire how pretty his eyes were. The individual blue and gray shades were mesmerizing to you, resembling glaciers glittering beneath the moon high in the north. Another detail you jotted in his long list of attractive features. Before you could marvel at them any further, he whisked your thoughts back to earth with his response.

“It’s true that I’m coming to you because I’m in need,” he admitted, hands slowly closing into fists like he was reluctant to confess this, “but from what I can see, I genuinely think you’re more than capable for this job. So yes, I’m very sure I won’t regret this decision.”

It was clear to you that he was sure on his stance. But to reinforce his statement, he bent his head low into a bow, weight added to his next words.

“Please be the florist for our gala.”

The gesture briefly overwhelmed you, not something you were expecting, but you managed to acknowledge it by returning the bow.

“I’ll be in your care then.”

With all things said, you were soon tidying up the exchange and trading business cards. Yours was a standard card with your number, name, and business attached with a picture of a lily printed across the paper. His, a premium slip of stainless steel engraved with his information and then some, the fancy card reflecting off the lights hanging from the ceiling. You read the name etched in ebony black over the gray material.

Todoroki Shouto — CEO

“You’ll likely receive a call from either one of my assistants or me within the next day or so about when to meet up to plan for the arrangements.” Shouto’s voice brought your head up from the card, where you watched him glide toward the door.

“R-Right, I’ll leave my cell on,” you stuttered. The fact that this whole exchange had just transpired was still kicking in for you.

Shouto nodded, extending a wave out that you mirrored while he opened the door to the shop, the bell chiming above him.

“I’ll see you then.”

After that, the resonating tinkles of the bell were the last you heard.

You stared at the entrance aimlessly, mouth gradually gaping open at the mere prospect that you were really about to arrange your flowers for a grand charity gala in two weeks!

A mixture of elation and jitters erupted in your body all at once, uncontained as you whipped your head around and strode across your shop in giddy steps. Your eyes lit up at the steel card gripped between your fingers, clenched so tightly like you were worried the card would turn to dust when you woke up from this dream. But at the wide smile that bloomed on your lips, you knew that this was reality. This man, Todoroki Shouto, was giving you the opportunity to have your true potential shown at this big gala.

Meanwhile, on his way back to his Mercedes, Shouto was clicking open his phone. The screen beamed at him in the low light of the evening turning to night while he punched a number from his contacts list. It took only the cusp of the second ring for the person on the other line to pick up his call.

“Midoriya, call off the search,” Shouto commanded into his phone. He rested his back on the door of his car, leaning against it with his phone still attached to his ear. His gaze found its way back to the flower shop he had just departed, eyeing the light emitting from the windows to the sign hanging above them. Grinning, he took in the sight of the flowers dancing in the wind around the shop’s vicinity before finding your silhouette standing in the benevolent light inside.

“We have our florist.”

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