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1-800-hwahui · 1 year

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match of the season

member | college student radio host!junhui x fem student!reader genre | smut, fluff, humor word count | ~7,300 warnings | virgin!jun, shy clueless jun, fr that man does not know a single thing but it's endearing in a silly way, top!reader bot!jun (but no real dom/sub dynamics, more like reader leads until jun figures out how to take over), unprotected sex, jun big cock agenda, VOICE KINK (listen. you all knew it was coming), so much dirty talk, lots of consent bc it is very sexy, riding, little bit of dry humping?, mentions of an iud/birth control, jun is implied taller than reader (maybe size kink but only if you take it that way), jeonghan cameo and he's a menace, lots of fluff at the end (but also kinda throughout), please lmk if i missed any warnings! notes | this is a nsfw sequel to a sfw fic on my main writing blog @junkissed called sounds of the season, which is part of my series of winter-themed fics! if you haven't already, i would highly recommend reading that before reading this, since the stories are pretty closely connected. thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i hope you all enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first part. also like i said in part 1 i have no idea how radio works so if it doesn't make sense just roll with it lmao

you’re just putting the last finishing touches on your final paper when your phone buzzes. you glance down, grinning when you see junhui’s name on the screen.

unable to hide the butterflies in your stomach, you press a button to accept the call. “hi, junnie.”

“oh! hi,” his voice plays through your speaker with a giggle. “hey, i like that. ‘junnie’. do you want a nickname? but your name is so pretty, i don’t wanna change it–”

“whatever you want is fine,” you say, trying to hold back a smile. god, he’s cute.

“okay. i’ll think about it. oh, wait, yeah!” he says suddenly, as if he’s just remembered why he’s calling. “jeonghan left town early this week so it’s just me in the studio today, and it’s our last show of the semester. so anyway, do you wanna come over?” he stops, stumbling over his words. “well, not like, come over come over, i mean, we can just hang out, i–”

“give me half an hour,” you laugh, endeared by his eagerness.

“yay!” he cheers, and you shake your head with a smile.

half an hour later, a text pops up on jun’s phone, alerting him that you’re waiting outside the building. he leaps out of his chair, an excited grin on his face as he flings open the door and dashes downstairs to let you in.

he’s out of breath by the time he reaches the communications lab door, leaning on the push bar to let you in. “sorry, forgot they locked it already,” he pants.

“it’s fine,” you giggle. “so… everyone else is gone?”

he nods. “yeah, mr. choi said as long as i don’t mess with anything he’ll let me close by myself, so they all left early for break.”

you smile and hold out your hand for him to take, and he beams, hastily grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

he leads you up the stairs to the sound booth, squeezing your hand the whole way.

it’s your second time being in the school’s recording studio, but the feeling is still new and exciting. you definitely understand now what jun meant when he said being around all the equipment is a lot of fun.

once inside, he shuts the heavy door with a click, locking the door and flipping on the “on air” light. not that anyone could get in anyway, but it’s a habit he doesn’t want to accidentally get out of before he comes back next semester.

he slides in front of the computer for a second, queueing another song so he has more time to grab what he’s designated as “your chair”; the comfiest one in the studio, according to him.

he pulls it over next to his chair and pats the cushion for you to sit. you giggle and plop down on the seat, scooching closer to him once he’s sat in his own chair.

he raises his eyebrows at you with a grin, then clears his throat and moves closer to the microphone as the song ends to do his job.

ever since you accidentally admitted to him that you like the way his voice sounds, he’s teased you about it—or at least, attempted to tease you about it. he's too sweet for his own good, so even when he tries to poke fun at you it comes out like a compliment.

he presses the red button and begins to talk. “that was one of the classics, ‘a holly jolly christmas’ by burl ives. coming up next, another favorite, ‘the christmas song’ by michael bublé, and more great songs on your favorite program: 111.7fm’s sounds of the season.”

he lets go of the button and sits back in his chair, spinning it around to face you as the slow music starts softly playing. “hi,” he says shyly. “did you like that?”

you smile. it’s a little bit of an odd question, but you’ve started to understand his awkwardness; he just needs a little encouragement. “i always like it. you’re really good at this.”

“i like it a lot,” he grins back, bouncing his head in excitement. “can i kiss you now?”

you laugh at his enthusiasm but nod, leaning forward to press your lips to his. he sighs into your mouth, his hands falling naturally to your waist. for supposedly not going out much, jun is really, really good at kissing, you’ve quickly learned over the last few days. how he got so good at it, you may never know, but the feeling of him pressed against you is too perfect to waste time questioning why.

despite being surrounded by the cold, metal recording equipment, the sound of michael bublé’s crooning voice and the gentle warmth of junhui’s lips makes the studio feel like the coziest place on earth.

his hands tug at your waist and you slide easily out of your chair and onto his lap, sitting sideways across his legs, never breaking the kiss.

he pulls away for a second, his cheeks dusted with pink. “let me… put the playlist on,” he says, his voice a little breathier than usual.

you hum in confusion, attention still focused on the curve of his lips and the little noises he makes when he’s kissing you. “what playlist?”

he laughs. “for the show. so we can keep doing… this, and not have to worry.”

“wait, so you mean, not all of it is live?”

he shakes his head. “almost all of it is, but there’s a backup playlist in case we get busy and can’t sit around pressing buttons for the whole hour. i used it a couple weeks ago when i had to finish my chem paper.”

he spins the chair around, facing you both in front of the computer screen and tapping a few buttons on the keyboard. he turns a dial on the soundboard and the background music in the studio gets lower, so quiet you need to strain to hear it.

he hums, and your attention turns away from the machinery and back to his eager smile.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks softly.

you giggle and put your hands around his neck. “you don’t have to ask every time.”

so he’s pushing his lips on yours again, kissing you like you’re the most delicate thing in the world.

and that’s when you feel it. the butterflies deep in your stomach that make you want to do things no person should be doing in a school building.

he pulls away for a second to catch his breath. “you’re so pretty,” he says dreamily, and you hate the way it immediately sends shivers down your spine, landing directly at your core.

you hold back a whimper and shift the way you’re sitting, moving so each leg is on either side of his legs, straddling his lap.

he pushes his mouth against yours, hands gently kneading your hips. your fingers dance beneath the bottom of his shirt, fingernails gliding over the warm, soft skin of his stomach and feeling his abs contract at your touch.

“wait,” he whimpers, and you pull back immediately, taking your hands off of him and putting them on your thighs.

“do you want me to stop?” you ask quietly. shit, you hope you haven’t completely ruined this by going too fast.

“no!” he nearly shouts, looking panicked, then clears his throat. “no,” he repeats. “i don’t want you to stop. i’m, just…” he trails off, avoiding your gaze.

“you can tell me, junnie,” you say gingerly, wanting him to be comfortable.

“i know,” he whines. “i’m… embarrassed,” he says, voice small.

“i’m not going to laugh at you,” you say softly.

“i’m not– i haven’t–” he freezes. you give him a small smile that you hope looks encouraging, and it must be, because he sighs and starts again. “i’m a… virgin,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“oh! that’s all?” you ask, taking his hand and threading your fingers in between his. he looks up at you, trying (and failing) to hide the surprise in his expression. “you don’t need to be embarrassed. everybody has a first time.”

you pause, not wanting to force him into doing this if he really isn’t ready. you don’t care, you have plenty of ways of getting yourself off if he wants to wait longer. because you are willing to wait. “we don’t have to now, junnie,” you say. “i’ll wait as long as you want me to.”

“i want to now,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “i just… don’t know what to do,” he mumbles.

“that’s fine,” you whisper, bringing your other hand up to his face and kissing his cheek tenderly. “we’ll go slow, and you tell me what you want.”

he hesitates, then tentatively places his hands on your waist, still holding your hands. “i want to kiss you again.”

you smile. “i can do that.”

and you lean back in, pressing your lips to his. gently at first, until he grips your waist a little harder and starts kissing you a little deeper. you let him get used to it, allowing him to set the pace he wants.

testing the waters, you push down on his lap a little, starting to grind lightly on his crotch. he whimpers and tugs at your hips to help you, beginning to fall into a steady rhythm.

you stay like this for a while, leisurely making out on his lap, for longer than you normally would with someone else. but this isn’t someone else, this is junhui, and you’re more than content going as slow as he wants. plus, all this is just making you wetter and wetter as time goes on, riling you up the more you think about what’s to come later.

you can feel him getting harder underneath you, and you moan into him, eagerly but patiently waiting for him. his hands climb up your back, hooking around your shoulders and pulling you almost completely flush with his chest.

he pulls away after a minute, lips red and puffy from the contact and breathing hard. “don’t– you need a c-condom, when… so you, don’t get pregnant?” he stutters out, struggling to get the words out and to stop from bucking his hips against you.

“i have an iud, it’s alright,” you say, also panting for breath.

“okay.” he exhales and leans back, letting go of your hips.

you look at him in confusion at his sudden pause. “why…?”

he stares at you. “uh, don’t you have to go put it in? or did you do that before you got here?”

you snort. “my iud? no, it’s in all the time. it doesn’t come out.”

“oh,” he says, his cheeks flushing pink. “sorry, i didn’t know–”

“it’s okay, junnie. don’t apologize,” you say, trying your hardest to hold back a laugh. poor sweet, oblivious junhui. you’re not laughing at him, you’re laughing at how adorably clueless he is. you find yourself hoping you might be the one to help him understand these things, if he wants you to.

“have you… before?” he asks shyly, avoiding your eyes again.

you pause, knowing he’s already embarrassed and trying to answer him as gently as possible. “yes,” you say finally, and his face droops a little at your response. “but that doesn’t mean anything. it’s my first time with you, too, so we’re learning about each other. that’s all it is. so just… don’t think about it, okay? the only thing i’m thinking about right now is you.”

his cheeks are a deep shade of pink, but he nods. you take his hands carefully and put them at the hem of your shirt, guiding him to pull it up and over your head. you unclasp your bra and turn around to toss it over to your chair.

“now your turn,” you say gently, looking up at his eyes, which are still focused on your boobs.

“ju-un,” you murmur in a sing-song voice, and his eyes snap back to your face. “do you want to keep going?”

“yeah,” he chokes out. “i mean– yes. yes, please.”

you coo at his manners, moving off of his lap to wiggle your pants down your legs. his eyes are completely transfixed on your body, admiring every inch of you that he can see.

“do you want to now?” you ask, and he nods rapidly. he stands up and throws his shirt off, and his pants are quick to follow until he’s sitting back in his chair in only his boxers. the lines of his stomach seem even more defined in the low light of the studio, and you so desperately want to run your hands up and down his torso, and feel every inch of him, but– one thing at a time.

you slide your panties off and go back to your position straddling his lap. “is this okay?” you ask again.

“mhm,” he hums lowly, and you feel it deep in your abdomen, walls clenching around nothing at the sound.

his eyes dart around your face, and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair, tucking it gently behind his ear. “are you ready?” you ask softly.

his eyes widen, and he springs into action, his hands flying to your waist again. “oh! okay, yes, yes, um…”

you try not to giggle at his enthusiasm. you trail your hand carefully down to the waistband of his shorts, slipping the tip of your finger inside the elastic. “you have to take this off, junnie,” you whisper.

“mm, okay,” he whines, and you lift up a little so he can slide them down without standing up. he kicks them off and you sit back down, looking down to see what you’re working with. now that he’s fully hard, you can see that he’s… big, much bigger than you expected from a man this shy.

but who are you to judge, so you adjust on his lap, sitting up to reach below you and take his cock in your hand, positioning it at your entrance. he whimpers at the contact as you slowly drag his tip through your folds, spreading your wetness around.

“you just sit here and let me do all the work, baby, okay?” you hum, gripping his shoulder with your other hand. “let me make you feel good, hm?”

he lets out a garbled noise in response, barely comprehending your words at how engrossed he is with the way you’re holding his cock so delicately, waiting to push it inside and finally feel you.

“junnie, need you to use your words, honey,” you say gently, moving the hand on his shoulder to lightly cup his jaw, lifting his chin so his gaze lands on your face. “you have to tell me if you don’t like something or you wanna do something different, okay?

“i wanna do you,” he says, staring blankly into your eyes, and that’s when you know he’s already gone.

you giggle. “i know, baby. you’re going to. but you have to talk to me.”

“‘cause you like my voice.”

you resist the urge to cringe, still embarrassed that that’s the thing he remembers about you. “yes, i do, but no, that's not why. you need to tell me if you want to stop, at any time, and we’ll stop, okay?”

hearing your tone get serious, he seems to snap out of it a little. “okay,” he whimpers. “can i…?”

he trails off, and you shake your head. you know he’s shy, but you can’t let him off the hook every single time, or else he’ll never learn. “can you what, honey? use your words.”

by now the tips of his ears have turned red, and he’s beginning to lose control, his hips starting to grind against you involuntarily. “can i… fuck you?” he rasps.

“of course you can,” you coo, slipping your hand behind his neck and kissing him gently. “good job, baby.”

he mewls at the praise, and you finally start to sink down on his cock. it burns at first with how girthy he is, but soon the stretch feels good, and you have to fight to keep yourself upright on his lap, soft whimpers escaping your lips.

he groans, throwing his head back against the back of his chair, his grip on your waist tightening. it takes some time, but you finally sit all the way down on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his hips.

immediately he thrusts up into you hard, and you yelp, pushing on his shoulders to get him to stop. “wait!” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut in pain. “just… wait a second first.”

“s-sorry,” he whines, his adam’s apple bobbing with each labored breath.

“s’okay,” you breathe, beginning to adjust to the feeling of his thick cock throbbing inside you. “you’re… big, gotta– gotta give me a second, oh my god.”

he hums absently, clearly pleased with your response, but he manages to stop moving for a little bit.

you sit still on top of him, your muscles gradually beginning to relax as you get used to the feeling.

he sighs, his hands sliding up your back, caressing your skin beneath his fingertips. “feels so good, just wanna… fuck, just wanna be inside you forever.”

you would be surprised at the sudden lewdness of his words, if you weren’t so focused on the way the tone of his voice has abruptly dropped an octave. he’s starting to get more comfortable, you can tell, and you won’t lie: it’s dangerous for you.

“can– are you okay now?” he asks, eyes focused back on your face again.

“mhm,” you manage, letting out a short exhale. you start to wind your hips in circles, bouncing slowly on his lap as his hands roam your body, touching every inch of you as if he’s trying to memorize every last curve.

it’s a gentle pace; although much too slow for you, you’re hoping it’s just right for junhui to start out with. you’re not used to being on top, so you’re doing your best to keep up, but your thigh is starting to cramp from the position you’ve been sitting in and having to do the work yourself.

he must notice your discomfort, because his hands fall back down to their place at your waist, kneading your skin as he lifts his hips against you in rhythm.

“can i take over?” he mumbles, voice breathy. “please, let me, please.”

“yes, please,” you sigh, your head falling forward to rest on his chest. his skin is burning hot beneath your cheek, and you exhale, closing your eyes from exhaustion.

as soon as you relax and stop moving your hips, his own start moving immediately, your surprised cry punctuated by hard thrusts up into you, over and over again.

you’re still trying to figure out where the hell he got all this stamina from when he starts murmuring in your ear, sweet, dirty whispers as he pounds into you from below.

“you’re so… beautiful, oh my god,” he says in the low voice you’re still struggling to get used to hearing come out of his mouth. “you’re so good, wanna have you like this forever, please–”

“jun, ke–keep talking, please,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut in pleasure.

“you like my voice, but you sound so pretty right now,” he groans. “you should hear yourself. wanna hear you cry and make you feel so good, wanna hear you– god, wanna fuck you like this all day and never stop.”

you let out a moan, his words going straight through you. the rumble in his chest as he speaks reverberates against your head.

the combination of his brutal pace along with the innocently filthy words from his mouth brings you right up to the edge, and you feel the knot in your abdomen tightening.

you shift a little, moving up so you can wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

his hips falter for half a second at the contact, but he recovers quickly, wrapping his long arms around you and pressing you flush against his chest, jerking you up and down on his cock with fervor.

“you’re so pretty, you’re so beautiful, you’re so perfect,” he babbles, somehow remembering to keep talking you through everything. “love you so much– fuck, thank you, you’re so amazing, you’re so–”

you almost miss the four-letter word that slips out in between his praises, but it rings through your ears, nestling itself in your heart. you decide to ignore it for now, too focused on chasing your rapidly approaching high, but you promise yourself you’ll talk to him after this is all over and figure out what this is between you two.

you whine, breath catching in your throat as your own words tumble out of you in a constant stream. “keep going, jun, please– keep going, so close, please, junnie please, need you–”

“are you gonna cum? you’re so perfect, please cum for me, please, baby, lemme hear you.”

“fuck, yes!” and with that you’re catapulting over the edge with a sob, clenching around his cock as your orgasm slams into you.

he keeps thrusting into you, not once stuttering as he fucks you through your high, content to keep going and going and going until–

“jun,” you call out weakly, head swirling as you try to sit up. “jun. jun, you can s-slow down.”

his hips begin to stop, slowing down until he’s gently rocking you back and forth on his lap. “did you cum already?” he asks in surprise. like a dork.

you choke out a laugh, head lolling as your arms loosen around his neck. “yeah. yeah, i did.”

“oh.”

if you weren’t so exhausted already, you would burst out laughing. “you’ll figure it out,” you wheeze, hoping it sounds reassuring.

he starts to move his arms to let go of you, still wrapped around your torso, but you whine and he freezes.

“just… stay here first,” you say, letting your eyes fall shut for a second.

“why?”

you sigh. “because it’s nice.”

“oh,” he says again. he settles back into the chair, holding you on his lap, arms wrapped around you, just sitting quietly.

after a few more seconds of peace you pull yourself upright, pushing your hands against his chest.

“ …what now?” he asks quietly, eyes finding your face.

“you didn’t cum yet, right?” you say. he hums out a no. “then we keep going.”

he yelps in surprise when you start to lift yourself off his lap, his still-hard cock slipping out of you, now soaked in your juices. “don’t we have to wait for you?”

you fight the urge to slap your hand over your forehead. “i can cum more than once, honey. we don’t need to wait,” you say with the straightest face you can muster.

he nods, taking in this clearly unheard of information.

“do you want me to suck you off?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you.

“wh-what?” he stutters, face turning red, clearly not expecting it.

you take in a deep breath. “where do you want to finish?” you try instead, thinking it might help him decide.

“where will you let me?” he replies, wide eyes searching yours as if it’s a trick question designed to make him fail and you’re hiding the answer somewhere in your tender gaze.

“wherever you want, junnie.”

he pauses, like he’s making sure you aren’t lying to him. “can–” he clears his throat and starts again, more sure of himself. “i have an, um… idea.”

“mhm,” you breathe, watching him expectantly.

“do you think i could, maybe… stand up? and, have– you, over the…” he trails off, gesturing to the empty table beside you and hoping you’ll understand what he’s trying to say.

“you want to bend me over and fuck me on the table?” you translate for him, blinking.

instantly his cheeks flare, the shyness returning. “well, i… i. no, um, uh–”

“you can say yes, junnie. it’s hot.”

“you think so?” he squeaks in shock.

you giggle. “yes. you can do whatever you want to, just ask me first.”

his face breaks out into a wide grin. “okay. will you please, um, follow me?” he asks, holding out his arm like a waiter leading you to a table at a restaurant. if he wasn’t so damn cute you definitely would’ve smacked him by now.

you finally move off of his lap and step away, giving him room to move from his chair. you’d forgotten how big he is until he stands up, towering over you, and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. he turns and starts walking away, expecting you to follow him.

you laugh and grab his arm, pulling him back. when he looks at you in curiosity, you take his large hands and place them on your waist, motioning for him to guide you.

his mouth falls into an ‘o’ and he follows your lead, pushing you by your hips over to the table.

he stands behind you, caging you in against the table with his tall frame but otherwise not doing anything. you glance over your shoulder at him, nodding in approval.

his hands leave your waist and ever so gently press on your lower back to tilt you over. you comply, letting him move you how he wants.

“is that good?” he asks softly.

“it’s great,” you say, wiggling your ass playfully. “good job asking.”

he hums, so low it’s more like a growl, and it sends another shiver down your spine. at this angle you can feel his dick pressed against your ass, hard and throbbing.

he grinds against you, dragging his cock up and down your hole. you know he’s not doing it intentionally to tease you—you’re not even sure if he’s capable of that—but it does plenty to rile you up.

“junnie, please?” you gasp out, writhing your hips in search of friction, anything. his grip tightens on you, stilling your movements.

“what do i do?” he whispers.

“put it in,” you whisper back, unable to stop the giggle that slips out. he whines in annoyance, so you stop, giving him real advice this time. “just go slow. you can do it, baby.”

you angle your ass up, hoping to give him better access to your dripping hole. he’s already been inside you once, so surely he can find it again… right?

your expectations are clearly too high, because suddenly you feel his tip pressing in between your ass cheeks, and he’s—

you yelp, and he freezes, his hands flying off of you. you reach behind and stick your index finger into your pussy, using the rest of your fingers to spread your folds apart so he can see. “this one, baby.” at least he was going slow, like you said.

“oh! sorry, i’m so sorry,” he mumbles, and even without looking you already know he’s redder than a tomato.

“jun. don’t apologize. it’s okay,” you say softly. you move your hand away from your pussy and reach it out to him, craning your neck to see him. you wave your fingers at him, and he takes your hand, automatically twining his fingers with yours. it makes you smile. “just go for it, honey.”

“okay,” he breathes, and he starts slowly pushing into you again (the right one this time).

tiny gasps fall from your lips as you feel him fill you up again, stuffing you with his cock, inch by careful inch. once he bottoms out you exhale, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.

when you don’t feel any more movement, you realize he’s stopped, waiting. you almost whine at how cute and considerate he is, but instead you just squeeze his hand. “baby, you can move.”

“okay,” he says again, and pulls out carefully before slowly pushing back in.

you moan as he starts to increase his pace, rapidly pumping into you as his hips smack against your ass. you arch your back a little, trying to angle him in deeper. each powerful thrust pushes you against the table, your hip bones hitting the edge in a way that’ll definitely leave bruises. but you can’t bring yourself to care when junhui’s thick cock is thrusting into you like his life depends on it.

still holding onto his hand, you slip your other hand down to run your fingers over your clit, rubbing small circles. you can feel the pressure in your abdomen growing, and—

“fuck, you’re so tight,” jun groans, voice thick with need, and he begins pushing into you even harder than before, something you didn’t even think could be possible. you whine and move your hand from your clit back to the edge of the table to stop yourself from ramming into it.

he notices your elbow bent at an awkward angle to protect yourself, so he lets go of your hand and snakes around your stomach to pull you back so you’re standing upright, both his arms wrapped securely around your body. “feels so good… god, wish i had done this sooner, you’re so amazing, so perfect, for me.”

you whimper at his words, unintentionally clenching around him. “jun,” you cry out softly.

“fuck, baby, say my name again– please, like that, baby, please say it, again,” he begs you, fingers pressing into your skin that you’re sure will leave you covered in little oval-shaped bruises by the time he’s done.

“jun! please, i’m so close, jun,” you moan, repeating his name over and over again like a mantra, getting closer and closer to your release with each syllable.

“i’m cl-close too, baby, please… you’re so good, fuck! you’re so good.”

the constant praise is almost too much, and with one more sharp thrust you’re coming undone on his cock for the second time. your legs wobble as you struggle to stay standing, your hands coming up to hang on to junhui’s strong arms wrapped around you for support.

he whines loudly, and you know he must be getting close, too. “can i– can i cum on your back?” he pants out, still gripping you tightly. as much as he really, really wants to cum inside you, he figures it might be messier than cumming on you. and besides, he doesn’t want to get too greedy; it is only his first, after all.

“yes! yes please, yes, jun,” you manage, still wading through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

a little harder than he intends, he’s shoving you roughly down onto the table again, pulling his dick out of you to jerk himself over you.

“junnie, please,” you whimper out weakly, and the sweet sounding words on your lips have him choking back a sob as he cums, thick spurts of white painting your lower back.

he keeps moving his hand on his cock until he’s completely finished, panting heavily. by the time he’s done you’re both sticky with sweat, breathing like you’ve just run a marathon.

you let out a long sigh, feeling exhausted but satisfied. silence settles over the studio, the music long stopped, but you can’t tell if it’s a good silence or a bad silence.

you realize you’d closed your eyes while jun was cumming, and when you don’t feel his touch anymore, you slowly pry them open again, wondering where he went.

you prop your head up in your hands and look behind you to see jun hastily pulling on his boxers and jeans.

your jaw drops in horror. you’d thought, with his inexperience, he wouldn’t be like all the other guys who fuck and then take off, but apparently, you thought wrong.

“jun!”

his head whips around as he pulls his zipper up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“are you seriously gonna just leave?”

his mouth falls open. “no! of course not! i was just putting my pants back on.”

your expression softens. “oh,” you say quietly, face flushing at having jumped to conclusions so quickly. “sorry.”

“why would i wanna leave after this?” he frowns, looking genuinely appalled at the mere idea that someone might do that. “you’re still here.”

“i thought, since–” you start, then pause. discussion for another time. “nevermind, it’s not important. but why were you putting your pants on like you were gonna leave?”

you’re the one feeling embarrassed, but it’s junhui that turns red and starts stuttering. “well, i– um, i didn’t want you to… see…”

you laugh and put your head back in your arms. when you don’t say anything, he calls out your name nervously, and you look back over at him.

“junnie, your dick was just in me. twice. i don’t care what it looks like.”

“okay,” he says shyly, but his fingers still fumble with the button of his jeans.

you sigh once he finishes adjusting his pants. whatever makes him more comfortable, you suppose. “jun, can you… help me clean up now, please?” you ask timidly.

he glances over at you, looking like he’s about to ask why you need help, but then he sees you still bent awkwardly over the table and his cum still covering your back, and his eyes widen. “oh! shit, yeah– yes, i’m so sorry, i will–” he stammers, almost tripping over his backpack in his hurry to go get a tissue from the box by the door.

you sigh, more exhausted than mad, knowing you can’t really fault him. he comes back over a second later, gripping a wadded-up handful of tissues.

he drops them on your back and begins wiping at your skin, gingerly cleaning you off. when he’s satisfied with his work, he balls up the tissues and tosses them into the small can by the door.

“oh!” he says, realizing. “i think we have antibacterial wipes in here too, do you want me to use one of those? er, wait, i don’t know if they’re safe for skin…”

with your back (mostly) clean again, you stand up, wincing at the ache in your hips. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. i’ll shower when i get home.”

you limp over to your chair, picking up your clothes and sitting down to start getting dressed again.

when jun finishes pulling his shirt over his head and looks over at you he gasps, seeing the bruises across your hips and tummy. “holy shit! did i do that?” he asks, looking horrified, and you look down to check.

“oh. yeah, that and the table,” you shrug, hooking your bra behind your back.

“i’m sorry,” he says, voice quivering, and he genuinely looks like he’s about to cry until you convince him you’re alright and he didn’t do anything wrong.

“it’s not supposed to hurt, though, i thought,” he frowns. “i don’t want to hurt you. i lo– um, like you,” he says, “why would i want to hurt you?” he catches himself quickly, but you heard what he started to say. you decide now isn’t the best moment for you to bring it up, so you leave it alone.

“sometimes people like it when it hurts. sometimes people like it not to hurt. everybody’s different,” you tell him instead.

he nods, thinking. “i… liked this,” he says finally.

you smile, finishing putting the last of your clothes back on. “good, i’m glad. you’re supposed to enjoy it.”

“did… you like it?” he asks tentatively.

“yes, i did like it,” you giggle, and he beams, clearly proud of himself. and he should be. obviously it wasn’t the most perfect of your life, but when is it ever? it was close enough to perfect that it might as well be.

“you live on campus, right? so i don’t need to walk you to your car?” he asks, grabbing his jacket that somehow fell on the floor and tossing it onto his chair as he starts to shut everything down in the studio.

you sigh. damn, you’d forgot about this part. sure, a couple hours ago you could walk just fine to the communications building on the complete opposite side of campus, but you hadn’t planned on getting railed within an inch of your life so you hadn’t exactly thought to bring your car. “yeah, but i… it’s on the south end, and i probably won’t be able to walk very far,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “i’ll take the shuttle.”

he frowns. “i’m not gonna let you take the bus. i can give you a ride.”

“you don’t need to, jun.”

“yes, i do,” he says assertively, and it startles you enough to meet his eyes. you haven’t ever heard his voice that firm, and when you look up his expression is as equally determined as his tone. not that you’d ever admit it to him, but it is kind of… hot.

you decide not to argue with him, knowing you won’t be able to change his mind anyway. you nod an ‘okay’, and his face instantly brightens to the awkward, nerdy jun you’re used to, beaming like he did when you first agreed to another date, back in the café what feels like ages ago.

“are you doing anything tonight?” you ask, watching him shut down the equipment and turn all the knobs and dials to an off position.

“no. i mean, i was gonna catch up on my show, but then, i didn’t expect for… this, to happen, so…” he shrugs. “i don’t know.”

“do you wanna come over? i… i mean, not to do anything. just… wanna be with you.” your voice comes out smaller than you intend it to, but jun still hears you loud and clear.

“yeah,” he grins. “yeah, that would be really cool.”

he pauses, looking like he wants to ask you something but not sure if he should. “can i give you a hug?” he says finally.

you smile. only junhui would ask for something as small and sweet as a hug after having sex. “yes, please.”

he crosses the room in two strides, barely giving you time to process before he’s squeezing you in his arms. you sigh and automatically melt into his arms, inhaling the perfumey scent of his cologne lingering on his wrinkled clothes.

it feels… good, being cared about.

he finishes shutting everything down quickly and grabs his things, swinging his backpack over his shoulder as he flips off the lights and closes the door behind you, making sure it’s locked before heading down the stairs.

you hate the way your legs tremble going down the steps, cursing him for being so good at his first time, because who the hell is that good their first time? already at the bottom of the stairs, jun looks back to see where you are and why you aren’t beside him, and, seeing you gripping onto the side railing for support, he dashes back up the steps two at a time to grab your arm and help you.

“you weren’t kidding when you said you couldn’t walk,” he giggles, holding the door open for you, and oh my god you want to hit him. “does that always happen? i thought people always just made that up to sound cool.”

“yes, i wasn’t kidding, and no, it doesn’t always,” you mutter, face heating in embarrassment. “depends on the person and how rough it is.”

his smile widens, the implied meaning of your words sinking in. “so what you’re saying is, my di–”

“junnie, if you finish that sentence, i swear to god i will never have sex with you ever again.”

he giggles, but he shuts his mouth, helping you the rest of the way to his car in silence. this time you know for sure, it’s a good silence.

his car is nicer than you’d expect a man’s car to be: clean and fairly organized, and there’s no half-eaten fast food in the backseat. he swings open the door for you and tries to help you sit down, but you swat his hand away.

he jogs around to the driver side door and slides into the seat, slamming it shut behind him. he buckles up, then grabs a candy cane from the pile in the cupholder and holds it out to you. “candy cane?”

“i’m… good,” you laugh, forcing yourself not to make a joke about having better things to suck on. why does he even have those in his car?

the ride to your apartment complex is pleasant. as expected from the radio man himself, as soon as the key is in the ignition, he turns the radio on, humming along to every song. you find yourself spending most of the drive staring at him, studying the tiny features in his cheeks when he smiles and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he hums.

after a shower, clean pajamas, and a raid of your refrigerator for snacks and something to drink, you’re snuggled up on the couch with jun, catching up on the show he wanted to watch. it’s the middle of some random season and you have no idea what’s going on, but you don’t care. just being here with him is more than enough for you, and you’re glad he’s enjoying being here, too.

“do you have a voice kink?” he asks suddenly at one of the commercials.

you nearly choke on your gatorade. “i– well, i mean… i didn’t used to, but…” you sputter out, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “where did you even hear that?”

“jeonghan said you might.”

you scoff. you still haven’t met junhui’s broadcasting partner yet, but you already have some choice words in mind for him when you do finally get to have the pleasure of meeting him. “well, tell him to keep his thoughts to himself,” you say, taking another smaller sip and avoiding his grin.

“so is that a yes?”

you roll your eyes and ignore him, which might as well be a yes, but you choose not to admit it. you know you definitely need to talk to him about… everything, but he seems so happy right now, you don’t want to risk ruining the evening.

but luckily for you, he brings it up himself at the next commercial break.

“how long do i have to wait until i can ask you to be my girlfriend?” he says, muting the tv and looking over at you.

you laugh. “were we not… already?” you ask. “we’ve been on, like, four dates. usually that part happens before you have sex.”

he looks a little disappointed, for some reason. not exactly the reaction you’d expect when someone tells you they want to keep seeing you. “oh. um, well…” he starts, scratching at the back of his neck. “i planned it all out, i was gonna do this big thing and ask you. i thought i was supposed to. i meant to do it earlier, but…” he trails off, cheeks turning pink.

your expression softens. “you… can ask me now,” you say, putting your hand on his thigh.

“okay.” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter on the couch. “will you be my girlfriend?”

you try not to laugh at how serious he is, knowing he’s really, really trying. “yes, of course,” you reply, trying to match his seriousness.

“is that okay? that i didn’t do it right?” he asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of the blanket covering your laps.

you smile and bring your hand up to his cheek, pulling him towards you to give him a quick kiss. “you did it perfect, junnie.”

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geeminz · 16 days

Text

ᯓ A CHANGE OF HEART // giselle x oc ; smau

00 | as long as it's you

↳ in which: mihye has been secretly dating giselle, her best friend’s older sister, for four months. what happens when their relationship turns toxic, and their secrets become public?

word count: 1.7k

taglist: @thefckghost @emphobics

a.n. i was literally so nervous while posting this cuz im not too confident about the quality of the writing T^T but anyways yeah! here's the prologue guys 🥹

───────────────────────── flashback

───────────────────────── now

it’s now 9 in the evening, and mihye is tired of waiting.

she could no longer count the times giselle’s stood her up. she knows her girlfriend is busy — after all, she’s a junior in college. mihye’s well-aware of the fact that giselle’s coursework is much more demanding compared to hers. mihye tries her best to understand — she tries her best to be sweet, to not get mad or outwardly frustrated, but couldn’t she spare a minute for her girlfriend? can’t she just send her a tiny little message? or maybe even call her if she’s too busy to type?

giselle’s lack of communication gnaws at mihye’s heart like a persistent ache, a relentless throb that refuses to dull, no matter how hard she tries to ignore it.

she’s been forgetting a lot lately… how long until she forgets she has a girlfriend?

mihye wonders if normal relationships are like this — after all, love is all about giving and taking, right? it’s about adjustments, understanding. shortcomings are normal — but at this point, shortcomings from giselle are everyday.

it wasn’t just the missed dates that mihye was frustrated about — it was the constant cycle of disappointment from all of giselle’s broken and hollow promises. mihye wonders if she’s done something wrong to make giselle act so… detached.

frustrated, mihye sighs deeply. the side of her head crashlands on one of the throw pillows on the couch — while a plethora of emotions swirls inside her. right now, mihye’s stuck.

should i text or call her?

mihye doesn’t want her girlfriend to think that she’s being too clingy — giselle has told her that before (even though giselle only said it indirectly, mihye isn’t dumb; she knows what giselle meant when she told her about how ‘they’ve been spending too much time together lately’ and that they’ll be ‘tired of each other at this point’). but what else can mihye do? she hasn’t seen giselle for the past three days.

three days too long, the girl thinks. i miss her so much.

a ding! sound popped from mihye’s phone, and mihye swears she’s never gotten up that fast before. reaching out for her phone, she checks out her girlfriend’s reply.

frustrated, mihye puts her phone back on the coffee table. it was violently buzzing from the endless stream of phone calls that giselle was spamming her with.

mihye misses her girlfriend, for sure. but despite her desire to just crawl into her girlfriend’s arms and just forget everything else (just like how giselle forgot their own date), mihye also doesn’t want to listen to her poor excuses about how she didn’t forget — she just had a lot on her mind.

hearing those poorly thought out reasons over and over again was gradually draining mihye. not only did it wear her out, she was also hurt by giselle’s lack of a proper and valid explanation to justify her absence.

mihye glances at her buzzing phone once more. let me let her suffer a little, just this once. i’m too frustrated to listen to her right now.

mihye sighs, tired from the endless train of thoughts that looped inside her brain. she lets her phone ring — knowing very well that giselle will stop calling her soon. she always does. she listens to her ringtone as if it were a broken record playing again and again, and her empty pair of eyes stares at the rose petal-filled and candle-scented room she had set up two hours ago. with blank eyes, mihye observes her living room, her body stunned and her heart empty upon the realization that her best efforts to impress her girlfriend were all going to waste.

i really thought we’d get to spend a little time together today.

due to a force of habit, she subconsciously grabs one of the plushies near her — the one that giselle gifted her for their first monthsary — and mihye clutches it against her chest. her nose brushes against the fur of the plushie, and she smells giselle’s signature perfume on its surface. just like that, giselle invades her thoughts once more.

her phone, which was perched on top of the glass surface of her coffee table, stopped ringing after a minute or so. mihye could only lay like that in silence and in solitude, heart heavy, pained and empty. she must be tired now, mihye thinks. but after that thought, three notifications pinged at her phone.

mihye lazily reaches for her phone to check the notifications.

mihye’s eyes widen at the text, and before she could even register the texts and respond to giselle, a series of familiar knocks came from the front door.

mihye makes no sound to address the knocks, but she recognizes the voice coming from behind the door.

“hye, i know you’re in there. open the door for me, please?”

mihye doesn’t respond to giselle. she stays mum and stuck at her place.

“mihye, baby. please. let’s talk, love.” giselle pleads once more.

mihye slowly shuts her eyes in defeat. she knew she couldn’t resist giselle — she could never. it’s giselle, after all. and mihye loves her enough to get up from her sofa and walk towards the door to open it for her girlfriend, who was currently pleading for her on the other side of the door.

once the door was opened, mihye sees giselle, clad in all black, leaning on the frame of her doorway.

why does she have to be so goddamn pretty!

with her big brown eyes, and pouty lips, giselle still looked breathtaking to mihye, even if she did make her cry multiple times before. right now, the older looked like a kicked puppy with the way that she was furrowing her eyebrows. giselle’s glossy eyes stared deeply into mihye’s, and just like that, mihye had no choice but to let giselle in her apartment.

mihye stretches her arm to open the door wider for giselle to enter the premises of her apartment. but instead of immediately going inside, the older girl pulls mihye into a tight embrace.

“baby,” giselle whispers, burying her head into mihye’s neck. “i am so sorry. i’m such an asshole.”

at least you’re self-aware, mihye says in her mind, but she stays quiet as giselle continues to hug her, grasping at her body as if mihye will disappear once giselle loosens her hold on mihye’s waist.

“i just had a lot of things on my mind, hye.”

tell me something you haven’t already told me, gi.

“and i was just so tired today, our prof is literally trying to kill us. i almost fell asleep the moment i got back to my condo.”

i’ve heard that one, too.

“i’m sorry, hye. please forgive me.”

when will you ever stop saying sorry?

“you know i love you, right? i love you, mihye. i’m sorry for fucking up.”

“...”

“hye? please talk to me.” giselle’s warm breath hits the skin of mihye’s neck. due to the closeness of their bodies, mihye could feel the quick thumping of her girlfriend’s heart. she could sense the quickness of giselle’s breathing; as if she just ran a marathon and is running out of breath. mihye could feel how tightly giselle has shut her eyes from the feeling of giselle’s long lashes against the surface of her neck.

she’s sorry — she always is.

and you always forgive her.

that’s how this goes.

mihye sighs, slowly giving in and reciprocating giselle’s hug. just like that, mihye feels the older girl’s heart rate increase tenfold, but after a few seconds, the girl relaxes in her arms.

“gi, let’s go inside first.” mihye suggests, but giselle doesn’t budge at all.

“gi,” mihye calls out to her girlfriend again, and this time, she lightly taps the girl’s back to call her attention. “gi, let’s get in. someone might see you here.”

“so?” giselle replies, not wanting to interrupt the position they were in.

it is comfy, mihye tries to justify in her head.

“so… someone might see you. some of your blockmates are my neighbors on this floor, you know. they might get the wrong idea if… if they see us like this.”

giselle stays frozen for a few moments, before pulling her body away from her younger girlfriend. mihye looks at her, and deems giselle’s expression as unreadable. she neither looked happy nor sad — instead, she looks like she’s just been hit by a ton of bricks.

did i say something wrong?

the couple walk toward the living room together — giselle observed the place with the same unreadable expression. at this point, mihye couldn’t read her, she could only observe. despite everything, giselle was still careful so as to not step on the petal of roses sprawled around mihye’s floor.

when they got to mihye’s couch, they both stayed silent. mihye — truth be told, did not want to speak. she was far too tired to do so.

we may not be okay, but at least she’s here with me now.

no matter how disappointed i am.

it was giselle who broke the silence between them.

“hye… i’m sorry for putting you in this setup.”

mihye looks at her girlfriend with concern. giselle stares at her lap, unable to look her girlfriend in the eye.

“i’m sorry that i can’t publicly show how much i love you. i’m just not ready yet. i hope you understand that.”

mihye nods before responding. “i do, gi. i knew what i was getting myself into.”

mihye stays silent as giselle continues to rack around her thoughts to pick better words to tell her girlfriend.

“i just need more time, hye. please be patient for me.” giselle says, and mihye’s heart has no other choice but to accept what giselle gives her.

mihye has a lot of questions that she wanted to ask — gi, are we okay?

gi, why are you so confusing?

why are you so cold and sweet at the same time?

what happened to us?

but as soon as giselle pulled mihye into her warm embrace, all of mihye’s questions and thoughts dissolved into nothing, as giselle’s tom ford perfume swoops into her sense of smells and floods her thoughts with how good her girlfriend smells.

she's here. with me. and she does care. she's just been busy.

giselle loves me. and i love her.

turns out, no matter how disappointed mihye is in giselle — one word, one apology, one hug from giselle, and mihye’s melting into her touch again.

as long as it’s her, i’ll endure the pain.

go to: masterlist | next

#⸻ a change of heart.#⸻ vice:aus #aespa giselle x reader #giselle angst #aespa giselle #giselle imagines #giselle x reader #aespa smau #aespa angst #aespa x reader #kpop smau #kpop wlw #kpop idol x reader

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dontyouworrydaddy · 9 months

Note

First of all, I love your blog so much, on god. I never fail to read every single one of your posts. You're a blessing to the COD simps community. Secondly, I'd like to request a female reader this time. Usually, I ask for GN, so that everyone can feel included. Please, TF 141, Konig (and Vaqueros too if it's ok) with a gf / wife who is a pro gamer. Like she can play any video game at the highest difficulty with ease, solo dungeons and even the occasional raid in MMOs and just destroys everyone in every fight. She even has a Twitch and YouTube account and she's one of the most popular streamers out there. She prefers FPS (but RPGs too) because she genuinely likes them, but also as a way to pay tribute to her military man. Women have an unfair reputation of being bad gamers and I hate it because it's completely false. My roommate is a beast of a gamer. Thank you so much and sorry for the long ass ask.

𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥

Task Force 141 (+König & Los Vaqueros) + fem! Reader

NORA, HAVE I TOLD YOU THAT I LOVE YOU? You got no idea how much this made me smile and blush. I totally look like an idiot right now. THIS IS SO CUTE😖😖😖

I‘m a gamer too and let’s say… we only get hate. ESPECIALLY ON COD. Last night I had my voice chat on for the first time and oh boy… the things I heard…

"go back to the kitchen"

"What hacks do you use"

"No way a female is good at this game"

blablabla. I was like 😃 damn sensitive asf boys.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT💘💘💘

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

König

In the world of all the professional gamers all time, your name was always mentioned. Thousands of videos exist about you and your skills. Streamers were honored if they got to 1 vs 1 you, because that would mean that they get to flex by saying they were able to play with you. Even through they’d loose. Your name was known worldwide and so many people were looking up to you.

König admired you. He had always admired your talents and watched your streams with a mixture of awe and pride in the living room while you were live in your gaming room.

One day, your chat buzzed with excitement and cheers. You wondered why they were freaking out because you were having a chat with your fans. The chat was completely going crazy as they all asked the same thing:

Y/N got a boyfriend?

Please tell me it’s just her brother😔

IS THAT A MAN? IN HER HOUSE?

As you turn around you can see König in the corner of your room. He probably forgot you were still streaming and he looks as confused as you do. "Hey love" you finally said, causing the chat to literally explode. König comes a little closer and kisses your forehead. "Just wanted to ask if you wanna eat something" König says and tries to hide himself as good as he can. His heart definitely started beating faster than a few moments before. "hmmm… yes!" you reply and take a look at the chatscreen and see the the people waiting for you to confirm.

"Yes, he's my man" you said, your voice tinged with affection and pride, sharing your secret with your viewers.

König, caught off guard but unable to hide his emotions, blushed slightly, his heart swelling with love and admiration for you. He stepped back into view, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss on the cheek, which you welcomed with a radiant smile.

The chat erupted into a frenzy of supportive messages as your viewers reveled in the heartwarming moment.

Simon Riley

It was a usual day and you were 40 minutes into your stream but you noticed that the chat was talking about someone behind you. Curiosity piqued, you glanced over your shoulder and couldn't suppress a grin as you saw Simon, standing there and watching you from afar. He probably doesn’t know that they can all see him, not his face though.

You turned around and gave him one of your sweet smiles which he returned. "You know that they can see you right?" you tell him and by his facial expression you can see that he didn’t know it.

Without missing a beat, you turned to the camera and addressed your chat with a smile, "Well everyone" you said "meet my man!"

The chat erupted with excitement and hearts, and you could almost feel the virtual cheers cheering through the screen. There were a lot of comments about you two now. There were also comments about his frame and by reading those, you could feel your cheeks heating up.

John MacTavish

Today you streamed on Twitch and planned on playing destiny 2. You planned on playing it again since it made so much fun last time.

However, like always John wanted to stay hidden from the camera but still wanted to watch you play while reading some reaction from the chat. Your viewers never knew about him. I mean, how could they when he tried to hide as best as he can.

But fate had different plans that day. His arms occurred with your camera, revealing the glimpse of a man sitting next to you. The chat erupted with curiosity and in that moment, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore. John read the comments too and waved at the camera but still not showing himself fully. You let out a small laugh and hugged his arm slightly. "That’s my boyfriend" you clarified and the chat was exploding with excitement.

John Price

One day, as your Twitch chat buzzed with excitement, a curious viewer noticed a familiar figure standing behind you in the frame. "Hey, who's that?" the chat exploded and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore since John was able to do anything but stay quiet while you’re streaming.

A smile graced your lips, knowing it was time to introduce the world to the man who held your heart. "Oh, that's my man" you said nonchalantly, knowing the chat would go wild.

In an instant, John's face took a red shade and you could feel his heart melt. He thought that you might be embarrassed to show him but clearly you’re not. He came a little closer to you and the chat got a little clearer view of him and everyone was complimenting him.

With a smile, John leaned in, planting a tender kiss on your cheek. The chat erupted with cheers and hearts, seeing their favorite streamer be so in love was making them happy.

"you guys are so cute together!" was what almost everyone was typing into the chat and you couldn’t help but feel so happy right now.

Kyle Garrick

As one of the most popular streamers on Twitch, you had an enormous following of fans who eagerly tuned in to witness your gaming skills. The thrill of conquering challenging dungeons, soloing difficult quests, and leading epic raids in MMOs kept your viewers on the edge of their seats.

Your love for gaming ran deep, not just for the joy it brought you but because it somehow reminded you of your boyfriend. Kyle was always supporting you and he loved you in your darkest times. He was your motivation to keep going even when you didn’t want to sometimes.

As you streamed while playing Until dawn and the chat was exploding with excitement as someone noticed a figure moving behind your camera setup and mentioned it, which caused the others to see the man behind you too. You stopped the game and looked behind you. It was Kyle standing there with a plate of food and an iced coffee in his hands. You couldn’t help but melt on spot at the sight of him.

"So everyone !" you said, your voice filled with affection. "Looks like my special someone decided to make a cameo appearance. Say hello to man!"

In that moment, the chat exploded with greetings and cheers, expressing their love and support for the unexpected guest. Meanwhile, Kyle's cheeks flushed with a hint of shyness, never quite used to being in the spotlight.

"Uh, hey there, everyone," he stammered placing the plate on your desk along with your drink and a smile playing on his lips. "These are for you, love. Thought you might get hungry after a while."

As the chat continued to shower both of you with love, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Kyle. His presence, even virtually, filled you with warmth and reassurance. Without hesitation, he leaned in, placing a tender kiss on your cheek.

The chat exploded with even more excitement as they witnessed the affectionate gesture.

Alejandro

Among your many followers on Twitch and YouTube, there was one person who held a special place in your heart - Alejandro. Your boyfriend who supports you and who was always by your side when you needed him.

You were streaming your latest gameplay, the chat was buzzing with excitement and admiration for your skills. But a man behind the camera caught everyones attention. The chat was now questioning who it is and needed clarification.

A playful grin spread across your face as you glanced over at Alejandro, who had come to support you during your stream.

With a touch of mischief in your voice, you replied, "Oh, that handsome man? He's my soon to be husband."

A faint blush spread across his cheeks, but he leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek, right in front of the camera. The chat went wild with excitement, and you couldn't help but laugh at the adorable reaction.

"See, I told you," you teased playfully. "They love you almost as much as I do."

Rudy

As a popular Twitch and YouTube streamer, your skill and charisma drew in countless fans and followers. The chat would explode with excitement whenever you embarked on a new gaming adventure. It was during one of these electrifying streams that fate intervened.

The chat was lively as always, filled with adoring fans and cheering supporters. You were in the zone, showcasing your skills in a competitive FPS match. Little did you know, a surprise was in store for you. Unbeknownst to you, Rudy had entered the room and was watching you from behind the camera.

One of your fans in the chat noticed him, a smile stretching across their face as they typed, "Hey, who's that handsome guy behind the camera?"

You chuckled, casually replying, "Oh, that's my man Rudy."

The chat erupted with excitement, filled with a chorus of "Awws" and many many compliments. Rudy, initially a little taken aback, couldn't help but blush at the overwhelming show of support and affection for both of you.

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fizzyxcustard · 1 year

Text

Anything Is Possible (4)

Masterlist of fan fiction

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC TV series)

Pairing: Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, brief smut, violence, mild sexual assault references, graphic depictions of being burned alive.

Summary: From the imagine, “Imagine you and Guy are in love but you are to be married to someone else. It feels like everything is keeping you apart."

Comments: If you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please let me know. Lord Edmund is based off Arnold Vosloo (from The Mummy)

Your mother glared at your father in sheer anger and contempt at his lack of empathy. "All of this is because of you," she shouted. "You could have stood up to Edmund, you coward."

"How dare you! Edmund has kept us in comfort since offering to take her as his wife."

"You and money!" your mother spat.

"If we lose out on this then Edmund could do something much worse."

"Or we lose our daughter completely. I never liked Gisborne much before today, but he was more willing to fight for her happiness than you. He's the only one who has been ready to fight for her."

"Gisborne is a dog!" your father growled.

"And Edmund isn't? Gisborne has a heart. If it was up to me, I'd gladly let him take her hand. He's willing to fight for her, as is right."

Your mother and you remained side by side, your head on her shoulder, as you wept . The rain was falling heavy outside your window, mirroring you heart. "I would gladly take this burden off your shoulders, my sweet," your mother said softly. "I'm sorry I never spoke up sooner."

"Maybe if I pray hard enough then my words will make it through the rain and clouds, and up into heaven," you said softly.

Two days later and you sat by your window, imagining the times that Guy had visited. All you could see was his silver blue eyes, long nose, charming smirk and wavy, raven hair.

Wedding preparation was now underway. Seamstresses had taken your measurements and were beginning to make your gown. In fact, the head seamstress, Mary, was your mother's best friend of many years since childhood.

Each day seemed to disappear from your grasp, quicker than the blink of an eye, and all you could do was think of Guy. Would he come through and find some way to release you from this hell? You missed him so dearly that you forgot to eat, and felt as if all intensity had dissolved from the world. Everything felt empty, void of colour, taste or smell. All your senses had become dull.

As a child you never believed in love, thinking it to be some insane concept that people yearned for but never actually found. But how entirely wrong you had always been. Guy had made you see that you really could become besotted and need another person.

The first time Guy and you had kissed was when he was escorting you home after duties the previous summer. Townsfolk may have only seen his greed and hostility, which was driven by the Sheriff, but you saw a whole different face. Somehow he was changed when in your company, becoming empathetic, understanding. And now that your relationship had blossomed exponentially, Gisborne demonstrated how loyal he truly was. You knew of the sadness he had endured since a child, never having known true love. Now that someone loved him in return and his fierce loyalty was unleashed.

Guy sat on the edge of his bed one morning. As always, he was thinking of you. Prayer had never been something he resorted to, until now. In the buzz and chatter of his own anguish-riddled mind, Guy of Gisborne requested to commune with God. There was no immediate answer, and all he could do was wait, giving the reins over to a higher power, rather than rely on his own strength.

There was a whoosh as something was pushed under his door. He slipped across the room, barefoot, and picked up the envelope marked with his name. In the envelope was a piece of parchment, and his eyes were drawn immediately to your name, which was written in black ink. And Edmund's name followed. It was a wedding invitation.

Growling like a tortured animal, Guy tore the parchment apart and threw it onto his fire. In those moments and he imagined it was Edmund's face being thrown into the flames. Guy saw it all in his mind's eye: Edmund's eyes melting, skin bubbling, and his mouth open wide, screaming, but no words came as his throat disintegrated.

A tap came to his door. All thoughts were tangled and emotion became caught up, pulled into one big mess. "Come!" he shouted, his fist still clenched.

A guard entered the room and removed his helmet.

"What is it?" Guy snapped.

"I can get you to her without being seen. My wife is the head seamstress working on her gown, and she's longstanding friends with her mother."

"How?" Guy urged, shifting up to the guard. "The Sheriff has spies all over the place, we all know that."

After dark that night you lay in bed, only to hear your door creak open. You looked up to see your mother's face illuminated by moonlight. "Put on your cloak and shoes...quickly!"

Your stomach jolted in both anxiety and excitement. Your gut was telling you that something wonderful was about to happen.

As soon as you'd pulled on your thick cloak and shoes, you followed your mother out of the small house, trying hard not to make too much noise and wake your father. You heard snoring coming from your parents' room, and continued out into the open street.

Both you and your mother dashed into the field behind your house, hand in hand. It was fairly cold out, but the excitement and the rush warmed you.

Finally you made it to Farmer Henry's barn, where a guard was stood just outside, keeping watch. Your mother ushered you into the barn.

Guy looked up and saw you appear. He called out your name and raced to you. Both of you grabbed each other tight and kissed hard. As you stood in Guy's embrace with his forehead pressed to yours, you couldn't help but break down into sobs.

"I love you so much," you wept.

Guy kissed your brow and held you tight to him, desperate to keep you there.

Your mother watched for a few moments, seeing the sheer desperation in yours and Guy's actions. Then she shifted out of the barn, giving you privacy. With a sigh, she felt regret and guilt wrack through her. How could she ever let Edmund take you from Guy? What kind of mother would she be to submit her own child to a world of emotional, mental and physical torture by a man who should protect them? What kind of mother would she be for denying her child the chance to be happy?

The guard looked at your mother. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I can't let that wedding happen," she said, beginning to choke on tears. "If it means being imprisoned, or worse, then I'll fight for my daughter and Gisborne to be together."

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @xxbyimm @linasofia @middleearthpixie @meganlpie @luna-xial @knittastically @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @eunoiaastralwings @quiall321 @missihart23 @lemond57 @sazzlep @evenstaredits @glassgulls @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @mrsdurin @catthefearless @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

Guy of Gisborne tag list: @puggledy-huggledy-is-not-a-pig @whoooooisthis

#Guy of Gisborne #Richard Armitage #Robin Hood #Guy of Gisborne x Reader #Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader #Fanfic

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megidonitram · 2 months

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Everyone's Running From Something (ch.3)

A Baldur's Gate 3 University Professor AU

Rating: M

Quick Summary: Astarion and Gale are two University English professors precariously mentoring a troubled 19-year-old and falling in love.

💖Main Pairing : BloodWeave,(Astarion/Gale) ��Side Pairings: Shadowheart/Nocturne, Karlach/Dammon, Wyll/The Dark Urge, Tav/Tav 💔Past Pairings: Gale/Mystra, Astarion/Sebastian, Astarion/Tav

<=Previous Chapter | Master List | Ao3 | Next Chapter =>

**Please see Master List Entry for Full Content Warnings**

⏰Chapter Warning⏰ None

Astarion took a lap around the building to cool off before returning to his office- The last thing he needed was Gale asking him how he was doing after that little shit-show. Korrilla had also given him something of a runaround after he left Raphael’s office. She accidentally printed his requested forms on legal-size paper (because she forgot that she didn’t restock the printer before break) and then wasn’t sure if being in the wrong formatting would invalidate the paperwork, so Astarion had to wait for her to go get a fresh package of printer paper from the supply closet in the basement, which made him feel like a dick because she had to climb four flights of stairs to do that.

The problem with Korrilla was that Astarion never knew if she was in on Raphael’s torment or if she was just making a series of human mistakes because he made her nervous- though neither answer made the interaction any less annoying.

When Astarion got back to his office, Gale was still there. He was flipping through a heavily marked-up handbook on technical writing for business communications, staring at the pages as if he were either heavily engrossed by the reading -unlikely- or trying to light the damn thing on fire. It only made sense once he stepped into the room and saw Xenia posted up in the corner on her phone.

“Ah, Miss Bellona. Exactly who I was hoping to run into.” Astarion said, snapping the tension in the room like a loose thread. Gale nearly jumped out of his skin. “You look terrible.”

Xenia looked up at him with narrowed eyes, chewing one of her nails on her good hand. “I’ve had a rough few months.” She replied in that flat, desperately-trying-not-to-care tone that made her so fun to tease.

“I’ve heard. What do you need help with?” He slapped down his stack of paperwork on his desk and sat at his computer. Astarion saw Gale watching him wide-eyed, and he wondered how much Gale had pried while he was gone.

“I wanted to get the assignment sheets for my missing work from Survey of Gothic Literature,” Xenia said. Gale casually turned in his chair and pretended to rearrange the books on his shelf, giving them the courtesy of at least pretending to check-out of their conversation. “I thought I should get started on finishing that before the rest of my classes start…”

“Of course, you dropped off around Project… 4, was it? I think I kept a folder with your missing assignments somewhere.” With a few keystrokes, Astarion’s computer lurched back to life, fan buzzing as the machine recalibrated after being shut off for a month straight.

“I think the last thing I turned in was the 2nd character study…” Xenia replied. “…or maybe I just finished it- do you recall reading a paper from me about Miss Jessel?”

“I don’t, but I’ve read nearly a thousand bad-to-mediocre composition papers since then, so it’s likely I just forgot.” Astarion clicked through the expired Canvas shell to skim the grade book and determine which assignments he needed to pull.

“Oh, so my writing's mediocre?”

“I’m sorry, your 1200-word sophomore-level essay demonstrated a pure mastery of your craft. How foolish of me to forget when the beauty of your words brought me to tears.” Astarion scoffed. He found the file folder he was looking for and printed it off. “Gale, I know you’re terribly busy, but could you grab those papers from the 2nd floor breakroom?”

“Absolutely!” Gale was on his feet and heading for before the request had fully left Astarion’s mouth. He gave Xenia a friendly smile. “Back in a flash!”

“Take your time.” The comment came out a lot more passive-aggressive than Astarion meant it. He watched Gale leave the room and listened for the stairwell door to open and close. Astarion turned back to Xenia. “What did you say to him?”

Xenia shrugged. “He asked about my dad, and I told him that I stabbed him to death.”

“Did you happen to… elaborate on that?”

“No, he didn’t ask.”

Astarion sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, if you want people to stop treating you like a freak, you’ll have to stop acting like one.”

Xenia crossed her good arm in front of herself and pouted. “It’s not like someone wouldn’t have told him anyways.”

“Probably, but even a complete stranger would make you seem at least a little saner,” Astarion replied.

Xenia went quiet for a moment, her lips twisting into a disgruntled snarl. Her eyes drifted to the water-stained ceiling tiles. Astarion sort of understood her twisted logic. There were a lot of people on campus who treated her like a ticking time bomb, regardless of whether they knew her exact circumstances or not. If people would be convinced that she was a monster regardless, perhaps it was better if she was the one doing the convincing- at least then she was in control. It hurts less to meet someone's rotten expectations than to try your hardest and fail to prove them wrong.

“I suppose you want to know what happened last semester?” she muttered.

“Tell me or don’t.” Astarion shrugged. “I could not care less.”

Xenia rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

“What I am is a mandatory reporter, so think carefully about what you want to tell me- unless you like filling out copious amounts of paperwork,” Astarion said. “Do you need the reading materials? I could just lend you my anthology since you’re the only one left in the class.”

“I’ve still got my book from last year…” Xenia replied, mind still very clearly elsewhere. “…Do you have siblings?”

Astarion paused. “Yes. 6 of them. Why?”

“How do you refer to them… like in your mind? Do you call them your siblings?”

“I don’t think of the much anymore, honestly. But I suppose when I do, I think of them as their first names.” Astarion sighed. “Is there something you actually wanted to talk to me about?”

“I’m having trouble figuring out how to think of my sister,” Xenia admitted. “I guess she was never really my sister, and she was never really to blame, but…”

“You’re allowed to be angry at her,” Astarion replied. “I think you should be, frankly.”

Xenia mulled over his words for a moment, and Astarion could see her run her tongue along the inside of her cheek, absent-mindedly tracing the contours of her scar. She opened her mouth to say something, but the door in the stairwell creaked open, and she clamed up, wary of being overheard.

***

Gale felt horribly selfish for wanting to bolt out of the office as badly as he did. He wanted Xenia to feel comfortable and safe around him -the poor thing seemed like she’d been through enough- but he’d locked up. It wasn’t difficult for Gale to surmise that she probably didn’t commit patricide for the fun of it- those kinds of actions are usually born out of extreme desperation. However, whenever he thought about trying to relate to her or lift the mood, the impulse was killed by some strange insistence that he was being too personal, too forthcoming, too intimate.

He envied the ease with which Astarion had struck up a rapport with her- it seemed that despite his posturing, Astarion did, in fact, have a few soft spots. Gale told himself that it was because Astarion had leagues more experience in these departments than he did, but still, he worried. This was the first time he’d been on a college campus purely as a professional, and it felt a lot more daunting than he’d ever imagined.

It took Gale a hot minute of wandering around on the wrong floor to figure out Astarion meant “second floor” in the standard British English sense of the phrase, and the break room was actually located on the third floor. He collected the small stack of orphaned papers from the tray next to the copier and returned to Astarion’s -his- office.

Xenia was still there, Idle chatting about the books she’d read while in involuntary hold. “Do you teach V.C. Andrews? She’d gothic lit, isn’t she?”

“I’m not much of an Americanist,” Astarion replied. “If I’m forced to teach Southern Gothic authors, I tend to gravitate towards Falkner.”

“Not Poe?”

Astarion gave her a derisive look, but Gale handed the stack of papers before he could respond. He flipped through to ensure everything was in order and handed them over to Xenia. “You’ve got two more plot summaries, a thematic analysis, and a comparative essay for the final. Work on them at your leisure.”

Xenia took the papers and tossed them in the tattered messenger bag she’d brought without a second glance. “Thanks!” She said. “Is there anything else I need?”

Astarion put a hand on the paperwork he’d brought in with him, thumbing over the corner before he shot a scrutinizing look over at Gale. “Yes… but we’ll talk about it later.” He said.

“Alight, see you around then.” Xenia shrugged and slung her bag over her good shoulder but didn’t quite get it, and the strap slid down her arm, catching hard in the crook of her elbow. She let out a frustrated groan.

“Here, allow me.” Gale stepped forward and looped the strap comfortably over her shoulder.

Xenia cocked her head and gave Gale a thoughtful look, her dark eyes piercing right through him. “Thank you…” she muttered before she turned and hurried out of the office.

“She seems…” Gale trailed off. He wasn’t sure what Xenia seemed like; he’d never met a murderer before- at least not to his knowledge.

“Shorter than you’d thought she’d be?” Astarion asked flippantly, reclining in his chair. That was fair; Gale had a hard time imagining how someone as little and frail as Xenia could overpower a full-grown man, boxcutter or no.

“Did she really-”

“Self-defense,” Astarion answered several questions ahead. “I don’t suggest asking her anything else about it. She didn’t have a particularly pleasant home life.”

“I’d imagine not,” Gale replied, sitting back down at his desk. He tried his credentials again- still nothing. “-do you know how long it should take for me to be put in the university’s system?”

“Surely you should be in by now…” Astarion replied. He moved to look over Gale’s shoulder. He was so close Gale could feel his breath tickling the back of his neck- he had to suppress a shiver.

Astarion said something, pointing at the computer screen. He had such striking eyes, such a warm brown that they were almost red.

Gale completely missed what. “Sorry?”

“Try logging in without the server address,” Astarion repeated a slight edge in his voice. “Everything after the ‘at’ symbol.”

“Right.” Gale deleted the back half of his username and tried again. The computer loaded and loaded and loaded.

“That’s typically a good sign. Computers on campus take forever to log you on the first time.” Astarion said. He picked up the picture of Yenna and examined it dispassionately. “Cute kid, is she yours?”

“Ah, no… that’s my niece.” Gale felt suddenly and incredibly self-conscious. “I’ve always wanted my own, but it wasn’t in the cards, I’m afraid.”

The admission shocked him slightly, but he supposed it was true. Mystra had never wanted kids, and Gale wanted to keep her pleased, so he went along with that. But Gale had always loved kids. He’d been so excited when Yenna was born that he could hardly put her down. Still, when people asked him and Mystra if they were planning on having kids, he’d just nod dutifully while she explained that he was too focused on his career to think about kids.

“Shame,” Astarion said, setting the picture frame back down.

Gale’s computer screen went black, and then an empty Windows desktop appeared. Success!

“Just in time to log out for the all-hands meeting!” Astarion exclaimed looking at his watch.

“Naturally…” Gale sighed.

#Mat-write #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #bg3 fanfiction #bloodweave #bg3 gale #bg3 astarion #bg3 dark urge #oc: Xenia #oc: Xenia Bellona #bg3 au #professor dekarios

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goldentemplariumcrow · 5 months

Note

@arobinwithoutbatman He's been back a month. He's having a good day. He's already had his daily checkup and cleaned up from this morning. He should probably call his boyfriend. He probably had a lot of grovelling to do... to both Dio and little Lio. "Hey." He forgot to get water, his throat was still dry from throwing up this morning. "Cross my heart, no trick here. Uhhh... secure line, made sure of that... your brother turns into a rabbit sometimes. That proof enough? It's me, I swear."

@arobinwithoutbatman

Jack Drake, Tim's father, showed and proved to be a tougher nut to crack than Dio ever wanted to admit he was. The old man toed a line that made Dio nearly jump on his throat when he belittled him and Lio the one time they tried to visit Tim. The man had such a scorn for him just because Dio didn't look or act his society status, worked as a tour guide and was a teenage raising a kid... How did someone like that managed to be part of the genetic making to someone like Tim was beyond Dio - he could find the answers if he just wanted to look into it, but it was, ultimately, not of his interest.

With how Jack acted though, Dio saw their relationship needing to be put on hold and, later on, when Tim stopped communicating with him completely out of nowhere, he truly thought that was that. Tim wouldn't want to break his father's heart and little amount of trust by being in a relationship with someone the man didn't approve of, much less a same sex relationship.

Then, there was a lot going on on his side of things, the Templars picked up on the speed of their plans with some eliminations, there was also the fighting rings where Dio was forced to fight so he could get closer to one of the highest members in the Order and earn their favor - maybe even become one of their scorts and security if he proved to be good enough for the position, - and he still had to keep his current bosses happy while juggling his civilian life and Lio's education. So much was going on, his heart ached missing Tim, he cried himself to sleep at least four times that he could remember and was certain he'd cried in his sleep another three, but there was no time to filter it all.

And Dio was certain that'd be another early morning of tears when he got home while the dawn was still coming out on the horizon, hit the shower and came back to fall like a rock in his bed. It felt like part of his soul had been tore apart ever since Tim was pulled away from his life, so much he ignored the ringtone from his phone when it began to buzz on the nightstand - after all that happened, he swore that was just another one of his bosses wanting a good play on the sheets before their day started and he wasn't up for that, not today.

The buzzing didn't stop though, which meant it was something more important, so he unlocked the screen without looking at it and brought the cold surface to his ear. "Rosali speaking... unless it's an emergency you better call during commercial hours." Dio grumbled with his voice tired against the pillow to hide the shake in it.

Then he heard Tim's voice coming from the other side of the call and he froze in complete silence. "Tim?" Alright, he was having an hallucination or daydreaming while still awake. "Is it you?" Oh, please, don't let him pick up on my voice.

#》muse:dionisus #arobinwithoutbatman #//have a heartbroken boyfriend who just wants to hold and love Tim like there's no tomorrow

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intertwined-by-soul · 4 months

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The Relationship

A short story on the take of the everyday relationship through her side and through his side. Inspired by the struggles of communication that happens in relationships.

Her

Her morning starts with the buzzing sounds of the alarm clock which disrupts the dream of her magical romantic getaway. It was far away from the reality of her having to wake up early for university and drive the forty-five minutes it takes to get there. She gathers her strength, lifting herself off the bed to quickly dress herself. She takes their dog out to potty and returns to the bedroom to kiss her half-awake husband goodbye. With her backpack, two hard boiled eggs, phone, and keys on hand, she quickly makes her way out the door.

Luckily, she makes it in time by arriving a few minutes late instead of the typical twenty minutes she usually is. After her last lecture, she stays in the library to keep her mind busy on homework instead of the stresses that await her at home.

On her study break, she texts him to ease her mind and awaits his message which never comes.

She leaves University and makes her way to work, checking her phone again in which she has received no response from him.

“I love you.” She texts him.

She then makes her way into her shift at a poorly treated customer service job.

I have two essays due this Friday… I need to pay the wifi bill... Ugh, text me back… What should I make for dinner...? I want to wear make up for him tomorrow... Will my boss be upset if I call off tomorrow...? I have so much homework…I want to go home.

She stays twenty-five minutes over her scheduled work time due to two coworkers calling off.

She drives home with homework plans and dinner ideas in her mind. She shifts to thinking of him and feels her heartache for the need for his reply.

She makes it home and walks inside where she is then greeted by both their dog and him.

“Hey. You didn’t text me back.” She says softly.

“I saw, baby. Sorry, I totally forgot to text you. After work I literally fell on the bed and napped. Work beat my ass and I didn’t get a chance to look at my phone. I didn’t even check my game and I have an event going on with it. I gotta show you who I got!”

You had lunch? You had your break? You had after work and the drive home? You had from the moment you walked out of your car? How could you possibly forget?

She shrugs her shoulders. “Okay.”

He pulls out his phone and reads her text.

“Aw baby, I’m so sorry. Lets kick it and cuddle on the couch? Watch a show?” He says.

She runs her hands through her hair and lets out a sigh.

“I don’t have the time. I have to make dinner and from there I need to write two essays that are due by Friday and I’m honestly thinking of pulling an all nighter. Im just…overwhelmed.”

He wraps his arms around her and leaves a trail of kisses along her neck.

“Lets make dinner together. Take a break and kick it with me for an hour. I miss my wife and she needs a break. It’s us time.” He says.

Ah…my heart.

She closes her eyes and smiles as her arms wrap around him. They make dinner together. They kick it on the couch and watch a show together. She does her homework after the show as they both talk about their day. She sets her alarms for the next day. They both go to bed together.

Him

The morning starts with the buzzing sound from the loud alarm clock which disrupts the dream that he was finally able to form due to the restlessness he has been fighting from the entirety of the night.

I hate how she sets five alarm clocks and wakes up to none of them. My body fucking hurts. My eyes hurt. Why does she slam the drawer when she grabs her socks, she’s so loud. Theres enough sunlight coming in to see inside the room, why does she need the lights on? It’s so hot in here!

She kisses him goodbye. She leaves. Their dog climbs back into bed with him and takes her spot in which she slept. Their dog farts and it does not smell very pleasant.

“That’s it! You’re back on the floor!”

He kicks their dog off the bed. He looks over to his phone to set an alarm. He falls back asleep.

His morning starts with the soft sound of a lullaby ringtone that is played off his phone. He sits up and contemplates when to get up. It takes him ten minutes to get up as his body hurts from the hard labor he does at his body demanding warehouse job. He walks out of the room and feeds their dog. He grabs the breakfast from the fridge that she had made him the night prior and eats it. He dresses himself and makes his way out the door.

He has time to spare so drives to 7-11 and buys a Red Bull, an M&M cookie, an orange Gatorade, and a Slim Jim. He then makes his way to his isolated, body demanding, hardworking warehouse job.

They gave me the most fucked up truck to be in today…It’s hot as fuck in here… I really want a Silverado, but a Camero does sound pretty cool to drive… The left over Chipotle in the fridge sounds pretty dope right now… I need to stop by the vape shop and get myself a new cartridge, it’s starting to taste burnt.

As he’s working his phone vibrates. It’s a text from her. He checks his phone and ignores it.

I’ll respond when I’m done. I just wanna finish loading this truck and I should be done within fifteen minutes..? She’s probably asking what to make for dinner, nothing important. I hope…?

His break time comes in which he departs from his trailer and makes way toward the spot where him and his coworkers meet. They all work separately inside trucks so he values the fifteen minutes of human contact that he’s granted. They talk about memes, videos, coworkers, and plans they have with their families for the week. The fifteen minutes come to an end and he goes back to his isolated, physically demanding, hardworking warehouse job.

He finishes his isolated, body demanding, hardworking warehouse job on time and leaves. He drives to the 7-11 parking lot where he meets his coworkers. They share beers and chat about everything there is to talk about for the next two hours.

He drives home with the thought of taking a massive shit.

He arrives home and quickly runs to the bathroom to take a massive shit. He then greets their dog. He lays down on their bed and falls asleep. His phone vibrates. It’s a text from her. However, he is asleep.

He wakes up and gets up to walk to the kitchen to grab some water.

The door opens and she walks in. Him and their dog move to the front door to greet her.

“Hey. You didn’t text me back.” She says softly.

Aw fuck. I forgot.

“I saw, baby. Sorry, I totally forgot to text you. After work I literally fell on the bed and napped. Work beat my ass and I didn’t get a chance to look at my phone. I didn’t even check my DC game and I have an event going on with it. I gotta show you who I got!”

She doesn’t look happy. Damn it.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Okay.”

He pulls out his phone and reads her text.

Aw fuck. I’m in the dog house now.

“Aw baby, I’m so sorry. Let’s kick it and cuddle on the couch? Watch a show?” He says.

She runs her hands through her hair and lets out a sigh.

“I don’t have the time. I have to make dinner and from there I need to write two essays that are due by Friday and I’m honestly thinking of pulling an all nighter. Im just…overwhelmed.” She says.

You’re always so busy. I never get to see you or when I do, you’re either pissed off because of shit at your work or I didn’t do something you asked me or you’re too busy doing homework. I feel as if you don’t want to be with me or rather I feel like your personal punching bag. I just want to hang out with you, but you don’t make time for me. Just…hang with me…please?

He wraps his arms around her and leaves a trail of kisses along her neck.

I miss you. I love you. I don’t wanna fight with you. You’re my best friend. Let me make things better for you. You’re my life. You’re my world. I’m sorry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

“Let’s make dinner together. Take a break and kick it with me for an hour. I miss my wife and she needs a break... It’s us time.” He says.

She closes her eyes and smiles as her arms wrap around him. They make dinner together. They kick it on the couch and watch a showtogether. She does her homework after the show as they both talk about their day. She sets her alarms for the next day. They both go to bed together.

#literature #spilled poetry #romance #relationship

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years

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Dean Winchester: Dream

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: Smut, sexy!Dreams, Dreams coming true, fingering, fluff, nicknames such as (good girl, baby girl, princess, and sweetheart).

Summary: Y/n has a great dream about her favorite fictional character. But when she wakes up the first thing she hears in a whisper is “I’m not fictional, sweetheart.”

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n- @firefly-graphics for dividers, also this idea totally came from TikTok, but I couldn't possibly tell you who came up with the idea. But credit to whoever came up with the idea.

Main Master List

Dean Winchester Master List

'He drags his large roughed hand down the soft skin of my inner thighs, I clamp in his hand between them. He tusks at me, waving his free-hand finger at me. Forcing my bare body to be consumed by him, by his scent, by his everything.'

'He keeps his pace slow, and deliberate. Dragging his teeth over my budding nipples. He's so slow with his thrust like he wants this to be agonizingly pleasurable. He tucks me again as I try to push up against him, trying my hardest to grasp more of the tappable pleasure.'

‘I can barely breathe as he thrusts deeper and deeper into me. Hitting that small sponge bud. My face controls as he hits it again. “Is that where you want me, princess?” He asks, his voice soaked in arousal. I moan out in agreement, shaking my head vigorously. He continues thrusting, the way he dominantly hovers me, grasping one of my breasts in his large hand, while the other taps on my clit. I feel like melting into the bed, but everything around me is so hot.’

‘As we come down from our combined high, he wraps his large arm around my sweaty shaking frame. “Well, how was that for missing you for two months?” He says kissing my forehead. I can barely talk the wind still being whipped from my burning lungs. I sincerely forgot just how much I miss him when he’s away on business.’

I set my book down, the way this author has me withering under her typed words has me in a frenzy. My eyes graze over the cover. a dark scene, with a man standing behind the woman. Her hair is tossed to one side, as the man's hand behind her wraps its way around her neck.

"Jesus, I know how to pick a book don't I," I said out loud. My eyes look over to the bedside clock. My eyes widen at the time, it's nearly eleven at night. I clamber out of the desk chair. Climbing into my cold and soft bed. As I lay in bed my phone buzzes on my nightstand.

Picking it up to see a message from my best friend.

‘Y/n have you seen the author of the supernatural books is coming out with a new book!” I shoot back a quick message.

My best friend and I long ago used to be infatuated with the Supernatural franchise. Any book, fanfic, or tiny clip we could find. We found, something about the shorter older brother always had my legs tangled tight together. The books heavily go over the fact that Dean the older, shorter brother is a playboy by nature.

A flirt if you will. His smooth-talking ways getting him whatever he wants, and it’s been like that since he was old enough to talk. Having the girls swoon over him was his thing, my best friend on the other hand had fallen for other fictional characters. The taller, younger brother Sam.

‘No, I didn’t. Do we have any clues to what it will be about?” I ask her, she’s still very much a part of that community, but unfortunately for me. I had to grow up, I had to become an adult. A person can’t think about fictional characters all day long and still run her small business.

Another ding, another message from her. ‘Yeah, Y/n it’s all about Dean!” There were a few emojis at the end of the text. I roll my eyes, another ding. A screenshot. Of the new cover for the new book. “Holy shit!” Another ding.

‘I know right!’ It says I chuckle at how my best friend knows just how much this unrealistic character has control over me. I can remember when the books first came out. How my best friend and I were in the book store. Looking around the shelves trying to find something. Well, anything to read for the summer break before our last year of high school.

There it was, a thirteen-book series sitting right there. “Y/n look!” My best friend says, pointing at the spine of the book. “Do we do it?” I ask her, She taps her chin with her forefinger. “Duh!” She says grabbing all thirteen books. I walk behind her with another thirteen. We walk out of the book store with two large bags in our hands.

That night we read the first book together. Making sure to take time to break, commenting on what we’re thinking already. The first book was where I fell head over heels for Dean Winchester, alongside my best friend fell for Sam Winchester.

Within a week’s time, we had read the entire series, and then we re-read them. Commenting, even more, picking up on things we missed on our first, and even our second read. Now I lay here in my bed wondering what the author could possibly be wanting to write about when it comes to Dean. The older Winchester story I had always thought was completed, finished.

The monster they hunted, felt so real to me. I don’t know why, but it had always felt since I had read that first book that everything was real. But I always had to remind myself that monster, they aren’t real. Not even my sweet Dean Winchester was real.

I send one last text to my best friend. ‘Good night babe, I’ve got an early morning. Kisses.’ And I set my phone down on my side table. Plugging in my phone before shutting the lamp off, and getting comfortable in my bed.

As I close my eyes I think about the new book and my addiction to the supernatural community mostly to Dean Winchester. I bet my best friend is sitting at her dinner table typing away on her computer trying to find everything that there is to be found out about the new book.

Her nose will be deep into the internet before she comes up for breath. I chuckle and take a few deep breaths before sleep overtakes me. The feeling of silk sheets against my legs wakes me up. A large room with dim lights turned on. But when I go to move I feel a solid body underneath me. I follow from the top of my finger tops all the way up the chest of the person under me, to his jawline, to his nose, and eventually, I see his whole face.

I scramble to stay as my brain finally catches up with my eyes. Eye widen by the massive person under me. Long eyelashes cover the green eyes I know and love so much. His arm is wrapped around my waist pulling me in close to his large frame. I guess my squirming and moving had woken him up because his eyes start to flutter.

A dark husky voice interrupts my thoughts. “Good morning sweetheart.” I stammer to get any words out. Still laying on his chest, I feel the sheets move as Dean lifts himself up and rests against the bed frame. “Go- good morning.” I finally get out. My eyes leaving his face just for a second to see a scatter of clothes on the floor, and how our legs are still tangled. I swallow looking back at Dean. “Everything alright sweetheart?” He asks concern floating through his voice. I look down at the sheet, my arm coming up to my breasts. ‘Shit’ I say under my breath. “Sweetheart you’re scaring me, tell me what’s going on?” More concern laces his words. I look back at him, green eyes precise my soul cutting me down to nothing.

“I-um, I just... How much did I drink last night?” I ask, I’ve got nothing to go off besides that I’m naked and he most definitely is naked under the sheets. I’ll just think that I’m one of his flings. “No sweetheart, you didn’t drink at all. You and I- well I should say more like me. I just wanted to see your sexy body.” He says his hand reaching to touch my hand covering my breasts with the sheet.

I freeze, barely seeing Dean out of the corner of my eye. He pauses brows furrowing, “Did I hurt you last night?” More worry and concern floats through his words. Gosh now I feel bad, it’s always been my dream to be in bed with Dean Winchester, but this is… this is just weird. Too much for me to handle. “ I don’t thi- No Dean you didn’t hurt me. I’m just still tired.” I say, that enough to let him go of it for now.

“Oh well, if that is it. Why don’t you stay right there, and I’ll do all the work.” He says with a wink, when I go to protest, it gets caught in my throat, his large hand sliding slowly down my thigh. Another wink, as he moves under the sheets. Eventually, he’s moved my hips and legs open, slotting himself between them.

“You just be a good girl, and don’t move.” Another wink as he lets his hand search the skin of my thighs, “Well look at these beautiful dark purple marks I’ve already left behind.” He says smirking his lips attach my thighs, sucking. And my brain short circuits. The amount of time I’ve dreamed about him between my thighs. The number of times I wished he was the one touching me not some high-school prom date.

“Pl-please Dean!” It’s a high whine that leaves my lips, even I’m surprised when it flows right out. I feel a smirk against my inner thigh. “Well, Aren’t you an impatient little girl this morning?”He taunts me. I sigh heavily, my hands falling to reach for his hair.

“I told you, baby girl, just be a good girl for me.” He says going back down to suckling on my inner thighs. I buck at the anticipation of his hot, wet mouth of my sensitive bud. He tusks me, his right hand reaching up the length of my body. Reaching for my breasts. I whine as his large hand grips it tight. Playing with my taut nipple.

“De- Dean.. Please.” It’s a sorry excuse for a sorry ass moan, but Dean has barely touched me, and I’m already withering under him. “Baby, you aren’t usually so prompt to beg, but I’ll take whatever you’ve got to give.” He says. The first feel of his finger passing over my bud sends a jolt through my body, like getting zapped. I buck my hips into his finger, his other hand coming down to brace my hips down.

“Like I said baby girl, stay. Still.” It’s a demand, but with a sassy tone put on the end. Another swipe of his finger, and I’m digging my nails into the silk sheets under my body. Wanton moans leave my lips, as he teases my entrance and sensitive bud.

“P-please, Dean. I pro-promise you I’ll be a good girl.” To hell with not being a beggar. I want more of his touch. Another smirk, “How about we try this.” He says as he licks a strip up, The coolness of his tongue was hard to not make my undoing. I buck my hips, but with Dean’s forearm sitting on my hips I can’t really make any movement.

“Stay still princess,” He says breathing closely to my entrance. One minute the fingers that having tapping on my bud, are gone. Moving down my slit, and playing at my entrance, “We’ll go slow I promise.” A sigh of frustration leaves me.

I try to close my legs, as he starts to get faster with fingers, the daunting feeling of my orgasm. My hands tangling with Dean’s short dirt blonde hair. Bucking my hips to meet Dean’s fast pace. “Come on baby, I know your close. I can feel just how tight you are.” Dean says. Wanton moans escape me, as arch my back trying so desperately to get more of the ecstatic feeling.

A long moan leaves me breathless and worn out. “There you go, let go,” Dean says still thrust his fingers as I ride out my orgasm is a pleasure. He kisses my bud and slides up my body. Kissing me, letting me taste myself on his wonderful lips. “How about we rest again.” Another wink and I snuggle up with Dean, my face falling nicely on his chest. I fall asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear.

I’m startled awake when I feel the soaking feeling between my thighs. I’m most definitely back in my old, cramped room. No beautiful bed frame, or silk sheets, just a fantasy is what I think. ‘Shit’ Is all I can think of before I noticed there’s another difference in my room. More especially on my bed, I’m careful to move the sheets in a way that gives me the most coverage.

At the end of my bed, I see a large shadow of someone. A male, but that... The smell is so familiar. A wood-like smell mixed with a whiskey. I reach out, my curiosity will either kill me, or it will send shivers down my spine.

My hands land on a strong leg, I run them up. The chest of whoever has decided to come into my house is strong, but not overly strong. A smooth, dark, and husky voice erupt into the room. “I’m not fictional, sweetheart.” I pause my hands freezing on his body. “Dean?” It’s the question I’ve ever asked someone.

“Sure is princess.” Within seconds, he’s got me on my back under his huge body. Bowed legs trapping my own. “Oh fuck.” I whimper out. A strong kiss and it’s like I’m back in the dream. “How about we try whatever had you squirming in your sleep like that?” It’s all cockiness, but damn even if he isn’t real another round with his delightful fingers would be enough.

Completed on: 08/15/2021

Posted on: 08/18/2021

Deanie Beanie Tag List: @akshi8278@deanswaywardgirl@hit-meup69@fofisstilinski@doctorlilo@wonderfulworldofwinchester@ijustlearnedtolove-beep-bop-boop@flamencodiva@stoneyggirl2

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happyselves · 3 years

Text

Budapest { Lando Norris x reader one shot }

Breaking up sucks as it is, but to be dumped in an airport where you were going to a grand prix of formula 1 was worse … It was both of your dreams and he renounced it because of insecurities toward you. Admitting a “mistake” he had made with one of your commun friends, sleeping with her. You had to think fast in that airport, either you leave and go live one of your dreams or you step out of his place and go back home and cry for weeks. The answer was quickly found. You leave him and his baggage, not turning your back, deciding to not cry for the asshole you had spent so many time building a life he had destroyed in a snap of his fingers.

However the grand prix didn’t happen how you wanted it to. You had not really thought of him, too busy with the environment around you, sharing for your favorite drivers, freely wearing his merch that you had bought because you didn’t have any reason not to know that you didn’t have someone telling you off. Your now ex used to hate when you were showing your obsession and fascination toward the young driver that was Lando Norris. The dit driver had a great start but all his effort went in vain when the Mercedes driver hit the back of his car and ruined his race, forcing him to retire.

At first you didn’t know how to react, but when you saw him on the big screen in front of you, all the sadness and frustration and all the anger and hatred toward your ex boyfriend was transferred to this. You wanted to leave right away, but you stay, to support your team because Daniel Ricciardo was still in the race. You cheered as much as you could, exhausting yourself mentally and physically but it wasn’t enough and the number 3 car was too damaged to reach the point in the head. It was a shame, but that is the hard law of this sport. After this terrible race you had no heart in celebrating the win for Ocon even if you were extremely happy for him, so you went back to your hotel and went to bed.

The next day was quiet and you spent time in the city, you didn't feel great so you just walked through the city and visited stuff … alone. This time no crowd and loud car could distract you from your own thoughts. Your ex boyfriend was all you could think about now. The memories you had together, the dog, the apartment. By leaving and not facing it you were pushing the moment and you knew it will hurt even more next time you will have to face him.

It was the evening and it was getting cooler, you get your merch hoodie out of your bag and wear it. You find a nice spot on a bench in front of the river crossing the city and you put yourself in a cocoon, your legs closed to your chest and your head on your knees, hugging yourself for comfort as you watch the sunset. The tears came on their own, you were lost in your thoughts and you didn’t notice the man sitting next to you. You were so lost that you were now hearing Lando talking to you in your brain.

“You know it’s a pretty spot to watch the sunset, but not alone,” You puff a quick laugh, even your own mind was making stuff up and you didn’t know why, but you were ready to have a full conversation with yourself. At least your brain was nice enough to create someone that looked like your favorite driver. “ That’s funny, I’m that desperate that I’m talking to myself now, great, next stop the psy,” you weren’t waiting for any response, but you got one anyway. “ Well maybe your brain isn’t making this up ?” Another sound came out of you, were you ready to have a full argument with your own self. “ It wouldn’t be the first time I’m daydreaming about a handsome man talking to me out of nowhere, but I know my luck, why do you think I got dumped just before going on vacation ? I’m nothing … “ You were resigned, the tears kept falling and the pain kept coming. “ Well then he is an idiot, to let a beautiful woman, with great taste may I have, go. This man is obviously blind.” You had a great imagination to be able to hear Lando’s voice so clearly in your head that it felt like he was just next to you.

You turn your head toward what you thought the voice was coming from and there he was, sitting next to you, looking at you with fondness. Damn you really needed help if even your blurry eyes by the wet tears could recreate his whole body and face in front of you.

At any point you thought it might be true even if you were both in the same city, the odds were too big and he would probably be in his hotel room by now enjoying some games with his mates on his computer or watching netflix.

“ That’s not fair that you create this for me, I do not deserve to have such a beautiful daydream like this, seeing him this weekend from afar was one thing but to now trick me and build this masquerade in my mind to ease my pain, that’s really new brain.” You were feeling crazy and you were trying not to sound like one, you were talking to yourself and you were scared that others will think of you as someone with less sanitary than an average human being.

Yet, your fake Lando get closer to you and start touching your arm, you didn’t even flinch when you sense his touch, you know you wouldn’t be able to feel anything because if one thing you learn is that touching isn’t a sense the brain is capable of reproduction to the perfection in your brain when you are dreaming. Then why were you feeling it, why suddenly his touch felt so reassuring and real. You blind repeatedly trying to wake yourself from this sweet dream you were living because this couldn’t be real and it was starting to feel scary.

Lando didn’t move his arm from you even if you tried to gently push him away and put some distance back between you. You weren’t certain this wasn’t reality anymore because as you took his arm, you felt him, your grip on him was real. You lock your eyes on him, focusing on every detail of this creation in your own mind. You knew the shirt he was wearing and the shorts as well, you knew how he looks after running as well so that was a normal thing, but every little detail of him only a person being super close to him could imagine, that you had never experienced and yet here everything was here in front of you. He never felt so him and so real in the flesh. Your fingers found the scruff on his chin and felt the small hair tickling your palm.

That’s where you realise … Lando Norris was in front of you, in the flesh as real as you wear. You come back right back to your senses when you see the sunset and keep drawing beautiful colors in the sky. Lando was amused by the situation, you weren’t.

“ Oh sleeping beauty is coming back from the daydream ?” Somehow he arranges a lock of hair missing on your face, putting it behind your ear. You jerk at the touch now knowing that you were imagining things. You stand up quickly and try to avoid him, walking like a lunatic in front of the bench right to left. “ You know, you are the first fan I've met that acts like this, quite refreshing. “ You stop and track and look at him, really look at him.

“ How do you know I am a fan of yours ?” If this wasn’t the dumbest question you had ever asked, you didn’t know how to be more embarassing of yourself.

“ Well at first I wasn’t really sure, then I saw you on that bench, curl up in a small little ball wearing my hoodie merch, then you basically confirm it when you thought I was a pure product of your imagination,” You were hiding your face now, you bet your cheeks were red. You were mortified to ever have thought you were this desperate that your brain could be creating him, but even more when you knew he had to witness that.

“ I’m sincerely sorry, I ruined your evening run, “ You were apologizing to him, ready to take your bag and run away from this situation, to forget everything that happened. It wasn’t the best timing for you to meet one of your idols, that’s not how you had imagined things to go if one day you would have the courage to try and meet him.

As you tried to take your bag, he stopped you and took your arm. It was like the first, but this time all you could think about was the butterflies appearing in your stomach. Lando was the only person you could dump your boyfriend for … your ex-boyfriend. Before you had time to dive in your thoughts once more he spoke to you.

“ Please don’t go, I should be the one apologizing, I let you think you were insane because I was amused and you’ve made my day to be honest. I felt less alone. “ He was brutally honest suddenly and your heart shattered even more, making your recent break up put on the second plan, focusing on the man in front of you only.

It’s true that you didn’t notice at first, but he was looking tired, not only physically but mentaly. He brings you closer to him, silently asking you to sit where you were in the beginning.

You were both smiling to each other and without any of you being able to control it you end up talking a long time on that bench, not realising it was now dark. Only when Lando’s phone buzzed did you both realise that you had been exchanging your deepest secrets to each other, telling each other's life like you were best friends finding their way back to each other. You even forgot he was a famous racing driver at some point, not caring much because you were now truly seeing the man behind the helmet and you like him even more.

You sense a sort of sadness when he picks up his phone to respond to his manager. Of course they were worrying, he told them he was gone for half an hour, not three hours. You thought he would lie about where he was, being cheeky and keeping his privacy and you were ready to take that small hit behind your head that you bring you both back into your respective life, otherwise he surprised you once more by being honest and telling his manager the truth. He was smiling at you and his eyes were glued on your face with that same fondness you thought your brain had made up earlier. He hanged up and his body turn toward you.

“ So as you can guess I have to go, but I have the feeling that if I don’t ask to come with me, it would be one of the biggest mistakes of my life, so … “ He was scared to continue, evaluating the reaction on your face, but he must have seen something in you that confirmed something in him and made him continue, “ I’m not applying anything, it’s to talk obviously, but would you like to accompany me to my hotel and maybe see each other again ? I’m leaving wednesday night, of course you can refuse I wouldn’t take it bad”

Two choices were now in front of you and you could only choose one. The first one was obviously saying no and going back to England where you are from and facing the hard reality of your ex and the second one was to push your plane ticket to next wednesday and spend time with him. There was actually nothing to think about as you simply said yes to him and followed him to his hotel that night. You didn’t do anything, only talking and even meeting the whole team. You tried your best not to fangirl like a teenager but you couldn’t help yourself showing the admiration you had for everyone of them and they already knew with the hoodie you were wearing anyway. That night was one of the best in your life, you talk all night in his room and end up falling asleep on his chest. It is the first time since you’ve been alone that you finally find peace in your sleep and truly rest and somehow you felt it was the same for him. This is why he asks you to stick around with him, even for the Pirelli test. You were not only living your dream now, but you were living it with him and it was even better. You felt lucky and you were now wondering what would have happened if you had not gone to that place and kept those grand prix tickets. You could care less, Lando made you forget all the pain this ex of yours had afflicted you for the past week. You had fun and everyone was so welcoming and nice to you, explaining everything around the paddock, you even found yourself laughing with Daniel Ricciardo at some point during the day.

The looks you send to each other on the other hand were far from being only friendly, there were something more. Your body was acting on its own and he was so receptive to it. Everyone in the garage could sense something that both of you were ignoring, but they were polite enough not to make a word of it or tease the young driver for it. You were secretly thanking them to not make this moment awkward, you were already still thinking you were in a deep dream or coma, not wanting to wake up just yet.

The day went fast and ended up in a nice dinner in his room, still talking and joking. At some point it was the second night in a row you fell asleep on him, while watching something on tv. It really wasn’t your type to trust a stranger even if this one was famous and you “ knew him “. You didn’t want to live dangerously,but for sure that difficult time ahead of you was making you enjoy the best of life without thinking about the next day.

Lando was stroking you slowly as he was finishing the movie you were watching before you found Morphee, kissing your head before turning everything off and joining you in dreamland as well.

You were sure the people at your own hotel were wondering where you were,and when the next day you finally came back to it, Lando quickly behind you, you could swear you had seen a smirk flashing on the front desk woman’s face. You hadn’t expected the man next to you to find a way and arrange the plane ticket you had to take for going home, to be weirdly the same plane as him and the seat next to him. You both didn’t really want to come back to reality and go to your respecting mundane life just yet.

The last day was as good as the day before other than that bittersweet feeling you had depe down, not wanting to let this go just yet. You didn’t know how you could enjoy this little bit of life he had show you, you were already addicted to this lifestyle, to that travel, hotel and paddock life, this crazy life of him and most important you knew how fucked you were because you realise soon enough that you were already addicted to him quite simply.

Both of you were staying quiet about your soon departure from each other and until the last moment you didn’t aboard the subject, but every good dream had a end and it’s on that parking lot when you saw the whole team leaving one by one to find their car that you realise it was the end of his fairy tale. Lando had held your hand tight the whole time, you were ready to let it go and leave this mind forever when he decided otherwise and asked you where you were going tonight now that you weren’t with your boyfriend. You hadn’t thought of that of course you hadn’t, how can you think about this when this beautiful and genuine nice man in front of you had replaced as quickly as he came in your life all your thoughts. It’s like he knew right away and didn’t let you answer, your luggage was already in the lack of his car with him and you were both driving to his place. Every woman would be afraid, why weren’t you that was the question.

“ I’m not ready to let you go, I don’t want to, “ That what he said to you as he pull his car in front of his house before adding up, “ I don’t even think I will be able to let you go ever in the rest of my life, “ You didn’t know what to say to that, you were only focusing on him, only him and the only thing you could think about right now was the close that damn gap between you two and kiss him. So you did and it was even more beautiful that the fireworks on national day, the butterflies in your stomach were moving so much that you could feel yourself flying except you were still in this car with him, his hands in your hair, messing the already messy bun you had for travelling, savoring every bit of your lips for the first time, like it was the last. When you finally pull away from each other to catch your breath, your forehead finds him.

“ I’m not going anywhere. “

MASTERLIST

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drawlfoy · 3 years

Text

detention, retention, and draco malfoy being a little shit

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no not really

summary: golden trio friend y/n y/l/n tries to extract information out of draco malfoy after being placed in detention together.

warnings: swearing, panic attack kinda stuff, just the dark war things that would come w having the task that draco does

a/n: ayo so i started this as a fic i was originally planning on writing in a week. i discontinued it bc i didn’t think anyone was that interested, but i’ve written for it on and off. it’s about 16k words right now standing, but i’m reposting this as a 2 part series. here are the first ~12k words....enjoy :) IMPORTANT: if you’re like “hey i started reading this in october why tf are you reposting the first two parts” just keep reading ok lmao i promise there’s more there’s about through part 6 in here hehe. i just wanted new readers to be able to pick up on it without being turned off by the fact that it was part 3. this will b e 2 parts and at least 20k words

word count: 11.6k

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

happy reading y’all

For legal purposes, the york pudding she lobbed at Pansy Parkinson’s head on Monday evening was simply meant to be a joke. She didn’t know that her aim was bad enough that it was going to get in Snape’s hair instead--honestly, it wasn’t even supposed to get past the Ravenclaw table, much less veer to the left to make a beeline for the professors--but no matter how much she tried to explain this to McGonagall, her sentence remained the same: detention every Friday. For two months.

Her life was ending for sure.

“I honestly don’t know what you were expecting,” Hermione told her as she gently wiped off the nib of her quill later that night in the common room. “Even if you had hit your mark, that’s still technically assault.”

“Did you even hear what she said to me? She told me that I looked like the type of kid that bit people in primary school,” complained Y/N. “I didn’t even think she knew what primary school was!”

Hermione snorted. “How long ago?”

“Two days. I’ve been waiting until there was something throwable on the dinner table.”

“How very analytic of you.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

“And you wonder why you’ve got detention.” Hermione tsk-ed at her, her face stone serious but her tone light hearted. “Maybe take this as an opportunity to, I don’t know, do your homework for once? So you won’t have to have a breakdown over the next Potion’s essay and beg me to write it for you?”

“I’m going to go to sleep and think terribly mean thoughts about you.”

“Have fun.”

Detention.

Something that Y/N wasn’t completely unfamiliar with--she’d done her time organizing Snape’s cabinets, just like every other Gryffindor--but it was different when it came to McGonagall. An impressive old lady, she thought that McGonagall saw something in her. She was always the first to chuckle at Y/N’s jokes and hesitated to reprimand her stupid behavior. And she never gave Y/N detention.

Until now, she supposed. 6th year was changing a lot of things--even their Potions professor--so McGonagall turning a new stone shouldn’t have been anything shocking.

At least, not as shocking as the first thing Y/N saw as she walked into her house head’s office.

“Malfoy?” she spat.

The platinum blonde didn’t even bother to look up from his desk.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall chided. “I think we would all prefer if you restrained yourself from getting into any more physical altercations with Slytherins.”

She huffed, plopping down in the chair furthest away from that foul git and reaching for her satchel.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” said the elderly professor. “If I hear anything, and I mean anything, other than the sound of studying, consider your sentence doubled.”

With a swish of her robes, McGonagall was gone, leaving her with Malfoy.

“So what’d you do to get in here, huh? Did the administration finally get a hold of that video of you licking Voldemort’s toes?”

“What the fuck does that mean?!” he snapped, whipping around to glare at her.

“‘s just a joke,” said Y/N. “Like--how everyone says your family houses him and everything--but whatever. I can tell it’s a sore spot.”

His gaze, never withering in intensity, remained trained on her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Apparently so. What’re you here for?”

He exhaled sharply. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me think?”

“No promises, but maybe.”

“Late work. I forgot to turn in the Transfiguration exam last week.”

She made a tutting sound as she lazily shuffled through the crumpled parchment in her satchel. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I wound up here?”

“No. I am going to ask you to stop talking now, though.”

“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hermione said over breakfast the next morning. Ron and Harry were nervously chit chatting at the other side of the table over the Saturday Quidditch game against Hufflepuff--supposedly it was supposed to be quite a high stakes match. Not like Y/N cared much, though.

“Yeah! And the worst part was that he won’t even tease anymore. Like, he just sits there all broody and woe is me. We’re all witnessing our nation’s descent into war--he’s not special!”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just Malfoy,” said Y/N. “We have detention together with McGonagall. He’s such a nasty little greaseball, don’t you think? I mean, look at him right now, glowering over his cereal.”

“Wait! That’s it!”

“What’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“It’s genius, really,” he said. “Y/N has to spend time with him alone every week, and we know that something is up with him. Malfoy is absolutely a Death Eater and has connections to You-Know-Who, but I just need to find a way to prove it.”

“I vaguely forecast where this is going, and I hate it already.”

“Listen, Y/N. It’s not for that long, and it’s for the health of the wizarding world. If you just get to know him--”

“Ick!”

“If you just get to know him, maybe get him to trust you and find out his secrets...we’d finally have enough to turn him in and throw him out of Hogwarts for good.”

“Is that really necessary, Harry?” Ginny butted in from her seat further down next to Dean. “Malfoy’s probably just exhausted like the rest of you. 6th year is difficult, and we have no solid evidence that he’s a Death Eater. I’m sure being stuck in a room with him for 2 hours is hard enough without pretending to be nice to him.”

“But what if Harry’s right?” said Y/N. “What if he is actually a Death Eater? What if he’s an active danger to the student body?”

“Exactly!” The joy written across Harry’s face at the prospect of someone else finally agreeing was infectious. “So will you?”

“Er…” She dragged her spoon across the top layer of her porridge. “In theory, sure. In actuality, I’m not sure how I could do it. Malfoy doesn’t want anything to do with me, either.”

“Love potion?” offered Ron.

“I don’t care how much of a prat he is, I’m not roofying him.”

“I rarely agree with you, Y/N, but I think you’re right. If you want to do this, you need to get him to trust you for real.”

“Your back-handed compliment skills never disappoint, Hermione. Do you think you could help me out with a plan?”

A slow smile spread across the girl’s face as she nodded. “That’s my strong suit.”

The plan they laid out over the remainder of the day was ambitious but at least do-able. Each week was split into different subtasks, the end goal being a somewhat tentative friendship between the two.

“If you can flirt with him and get him to have a crush on you without scaring him off, you’d be in the best possible position,” Hermione told her as they walked back from the Quidditch pitch among the screaming Gryffindor fans. They’d won--yet again. “Obviously I don’t foresee that being likely, but if you pull it off somehow he’d probably be willing to tell you anything. The fact that you’re a pureblood is going to carry you through this whole ordeal. He’ll at least be accepting of your existence in the wizarding community.”

The bitter edge in Hermione’s tone made Y/N’s blood boil. There was no reason for Malfoy to be as prejudiced as he was--he’d spent his adolescence in Hermione’s academic dust. She was obviously smarter than him.

“You got it, ‘Mione,” she said. Her voice barely carried over the cheers of her peers as they ascended the steps to the common room. “We’ll take this little ferret down. I can’t wait.”

“Don’t get too cocky, now.”

The Gryffindor after-party was crazy...per usual. The charmed self-filling goblets, the blasted playlist of Wizpop pumping through the air, and the buzzing energy of the room was giving Y/N a giant headache. She stood with Hermione and Harry by the edge of the crowd, watching Ron get hoisted up on the shoulders of the chasers.

“No wonder the Slytherins think we’re Neanderthals,” Y/N mused. For once, Hermione didn’t respond. “Hermione? Is everything okay?”

The second she turned away to look at her best friend, gasps and whistles filled the room. She whipped back just in time to see Lavender Brown, a sweet but slightly ditzy girl in their year, pull away from a kiss with Ron.

“Oh shi--Hermione!”

Harry and Y/N shared a glance before darting after the witch--who had impressively already made it to the door.

“Hermione, wait!” Y/N called as they jogged after her, throwing open the common room entrance and finding her sat by the tapestry on the other side of the hall, knees to her chest.

“‘Mione, what’s wrong?” asked Harry.

“Don’t be daft, Harry,” said Y/N. “You saw exactly what the rest of us did.”

“I don’t understa--”

“Harry.” Her voice was taut. “I know you’re just trying to help, but I think that it might be best if you let us be. Go back and enjoy the party.”

He gave her a tight, grateful smile before darting back through the door. Y/N wasted no more time in walking over to Hermione and throwing her arms around her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging her tight. Hermione made no move to detach them, so she continued. “Ron is an idiot. You deserve so much better--your first kiss was Viktor fucking Krum, after all. You’re hot stuff and this place is just unfortunately running dry of men who are impressive enough for you. Once you’re out of here and working in the Ministry, you’re gonna have the time of your life with men actually in your league.”

Hermione managed a sniffly laugh as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just so fucking embarrassing, you know. Like, I have a crush on him because I think he understands me and I smelled him in my Amortentia and I thought he’d like me back, but…” She hiccuped. “Then he goes off and kisses Lavender Brown, of all people. There’s nothing particularly wrong with her or anything, but she’s so different...I’m so bookish, and she’s so girly and everything I’m not…”

Y/N took the opportunity to tuck a lock of Hermione’s hair behind her ear as she listened.

“And it can’t help but make me think--was I ever anything to him but a friend? If the girl he ends up choosing is the opposite of me?”

“Girly, don’t think like that,” murmured Y/N. “He’s a teenage boy. They don’t think of love the way that we do--to them it’s a game of availability, not of choice. At least for Ronald. You intimidate him, and by extension, you’re not available.”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t.” Y/N drew a long breath. “So you should find someone who always has you as their first choice--someone who isn’t intimidated by your intellect. They’re out there. I promise.”

Hermione managed a shaky smile. “Thanks, Y/N. I mean it. Do you mind if I have some alone time? I don’t think I’m ready to go back to the party but I just want some quiet.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need me,” she said, brushing herself off and making to walk down the hall.

“You’re not going back to the party?”

“Nah. It hurts my head and I want fresh air. If I’m not back here in a half hour, assume that I’ve been kidnapped.”

With that, she started her walk. She wasn’t planning on going on a long stroll--there was a small balcony that she often went to when she needed to clear her head. It was beautiful, especially on a snowy night like this.

But the walk was creepy.

There was only one way in and out--a narrow, damp hallway that had absolutely no light fixtures. If Y/N really wanted to, she could cast a quick lumos, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what lived on the walls. The stairs were steep, too, but she managed to bound up all 40 of them in record time.

“Who’s there?”

The sudden voice ripped a scream out of Y/N’s throat as she reached the top, catching a glimpse of the shadowy figure at the edge of the balcony that spoke. She clasped her hand over her mouth and she crept forward to the opening, getting a better look at the person that was in her secret spot.

The clouds shifted in the sky to allow more moonlight to cast a soft glow on Malfoy’s face, hardened with irritation.

“Malfoy?” Y/N asked, rather dumbly.

“What stellar observational skills,” he drawled.

She felt her cheeks grow hot. “What are you doing here? This is part of the Gryffindor tower. Shouldn’t you be...I don’t know...playing hide and seek with the sewer rats in the dungeons?”

“Very funny.” His flat tone exposed the fact that he did not, in fact, find it very funny. “There’s no rule barring me from coming up here.”

“But why? This is my spot!”

“Because I wanted to get out. Now, I was here first, so unless you want your detention extended, I suggest you leave.”

Y/N bit the fiery comebacks on the tip of her tongue as the memories of her plan with Hermione began floating back to her.

Week 1 -- Hold one neutral, civil conversation with Malfoy.

“I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here,” Y/N decided upon. leaning up against the balcony. The rogue snowflakes that made it past the overhanging roof melted on her cheeks.

“That isn’t a suggestion,” said Malfoy. “I’m demanding you leave.”

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, pointedly ignoring his words. “I’ve always loved the snow. It’s so quiet.”

“And it would be even quieter if you left.”

“Aren’t you the conversationalist?” said Y/N.

“If you don’t leave, I will hex you,” Malfoy told her through gritted teeth.

“I just love how the moonlight reflects off of the snow,” continued Y/N. “It’s so...pure.”

“Please leave.”

On her walk back down the dank stairwell, she allowed herself a little smile.

Task 1? Technically done.

The first week went largely as planned. Malfoy was cold and certainly suspicious of her, but he wasn’t completely venomous when Y/N asked where he got his quill from in Potions. It was silver, charmed to shimmer with flecks of forest green. He told her Barnaby’s in France, and that was that. She walked away from his table with all of her limbs attached. Perhaps that was all the progress she was going to make in the next few weeks, but the task at hand certainly made the prospect of her lost Friday afternoons more bearable.

Harry was going completely batty, rambling on about how Malfoy was behind the mysterious cursed objects that had been floating about the castle without explanation.

“And why would Malfoy bring cursed objects to Hogwarts if he has aspirations other than being expelled?” Hermione would ask over their books.

“You don’t understand, Hermione! You girls need to be careful walking around at night--especially you, Y/N. I don’t want you going missing after detention because of that slimeball.”

Y/N always gave him a laugh, berating him for his slight misogynistic commentary and turning back to whatever her task was, but the truth was that she was worried for him. The mental weight of the impending war and the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it was certainly getting too difficult for him to bear. It was heartbreaking to see the vivacious boy she’d grown up with crumble under the responsibilities of something he should never have to worry about in the first place.

Friday came much sooner than expected, and Y/N reluctantly left her friends in the common room to trek to McGonagall’s office. The walk was frigid and the wind bit at her cheeks as she rounded the last outdoor hall.

Why was this castle so dark?

A thump behind her made her jump, and Harry’s words came floating back to her.

Remember all those cursed objects? What if there’s someone just...stalking the school grounds, waiting for someone like me to snatch?

She shivered, throwing herself at the office door and slamming it behind her.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall greeted, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “Something giving you trouble?”

“No, Professor,” she answered, setting her bag down on the desk next to Malfoy. He sent her a curious look as well. “It’s just cold outside.”

She chuckled. “I need to go speak to Headmaster Dumbledore. I expect that, upon my return, you both are in one piece and alive.”

“I’m not sure if I’m the one who needs to be given that speech,” said Y/N, bored and testing the waters.

“She’s right, Professor,” added Malfoy. “There’s no projectiles here.”

McGonagall exhaled a long, shaky breath before brushing herself off. “Please. Behave yourselves.”

“You got it, boss,” she said as she watched her Professor walk out the door. “So, Malfoy. How was your week?”

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’d way prefer if you didn’t speak to me,” he said, refusing to make eye contact.

“I’m not up to anything! We’re in detention together and, I dunno, since I see you sometimes at balls, I thought it’d be nice to be on good terms.”

“Good terms?” He scoffed. “You’re a Gryffindor. I’d rather you be a bloody Hufflepuff.”

“How about neutral terms?”

Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she could catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes. “If neutral terms mean you being quiet, then, yes. Please.”

“I’ll be plenty quiet. After I hear about your opinion on what happened in Potions today with Brown and Weasley. When Snape yelled at them for holding hands.”

He let out a sharp sigh. “Believe it or not, I actually have better things to do than keep up with whatever stuff your house does.”

“But…?” Y/N pressed. She may not’ve spent her time at Hogwarts as Malfoy’s best friend, but she had grown up with the boy, and she could tell when he was holding back.

He stared blankly at her.

“Come on. I’m literally the only person in my house who’ll openly admit that they’re disgusted by that dynamic. I’m begging you.”

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she saw a flicker of amusement dance across his face for a moment. “Your house sounds more like a cult than a student group.”

“Oh, says the one from Slytherin,” said Y/N.

“We only act like that because our families are close. What’s your excuse? Hormones and Quidditch culture?”

“Touché.” As much as she wanted to fight back, she bit her tongue. Whatever she was doing was making progress, and quicker progress than she was expecting. Her next task was to make him laugh, and she was emboldened by the fact that she could potentially be able to kill two birds with one stone.

They sat in silence for a little bit, but this time, it was a comfortable silence. Malfoy wasn’t staring at the clock on the wall or rolling his eyes at her every move, so she had time to plot.

On one hand, she could make a fool of herself--drop her inkwell, say something stupid in class, fall down the stairs--but she had a sneaking suspicion that her sorry attempts at slapstick humor wouldn’t land well with Draco anymore. He’d become so serious lately, so solemn. This was the most light hearted she’d seen him, even compared with how he acted with the rest of his Slytherin lackeys.

On the other, she could try to sell out her friends. She could confide in him how “big” Hermione’s teeth were (they weren’t even big) or tell him that Ron smelled of eggs (true, but that was a low blow). Something told her that this would be much more successful, but she wasn’t willing to turn to that so quickly--she was already a week ahead as it was.

“What is it?”

Malfoy’s bored drawl cut through her flurried thoughts. Her cheeks turned pink as she blinked, noticing that she’d been staring at him for far too long. “Nothing. Sorry. I just spaced out.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, giving her another suspicious look before turning back to his work. “Can you maybe space out somewhere other than my face?”

“Where’s your vanity, Malfoy?” she pressed as she leaned back in her chair, hair swinging over the back.

“Shut up,” he snapped. She could tell that whatever connection they’d had in the fleeting moments beforehand was being burnt by the second, but her embarrassment and pride drove her forward.

“Merlin, what’s got you so wound up?” she prompted, noting how deliciously unraveled he looked at this. “Where’s my cool, collected Slytherin?”

He slammed hands on his desk at this, whipping around to glare at her. “What’s your angle, Y/L/N?”

“What?”

“Why are you bothering me?”

“Because I want to.” She beamed.

Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, mussing up the usual neat manner in which it normally laid on his head. “Compelling. What do you want from me?”

“What do I want…?” She tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes. “What?”

“You never talk to me,” he explained. “Obviously, I prefer it like that. I can’t help but wonder why suddenly you want to be making small talk. So, what is it you want from me?”

“Malfoy,” she said. “I think you’re a spoiled prick who thinks far too highly of himself and drives me insane. But I also think that you’re funnier than what my friends give you credit for. Granted, you’ve always been annoying, but I don’t want anything from you. I just want to, I dunno, make these next few months less insufferable.” Somehow the lie slipped through her teeth easier than any of her previous bluffs.

He frowned, his mouth opening once before firmly screwing shut into a scowl. “Oh.”

“No offense, Malfoy, but what else can you offer me other than your dazzling personality?” she teased. “You know my family. I don’t need to blackmail you to pay for jewelry I’ve had my eye on or anything.”

He scoffed. “As if I’d say yes.”

“Exactly my point. It’d be fucking weird. Merlin, I’m not trying to butter you up to buy out Borgin & Burkes for me. Do I give off gold-digger vibes? Is that what this is about?”

“Fucking hell.” Malfoy turned to her in disbelief. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Answer my question. Or better yet, pull out your wallet. Wait, did I say that out loud?” She mimed surprise and covered her mouth. “Oh no! What will my mother say now that I’ve squandered my last chance of hitching you? There’s no way I can go home for Christmas break now.”

He rolled his eyes so hard she found herself worried for a moment that they were going to just permanently get stuck in the back of his head. “Hate to break it to you, but you didn’t really have a shot to begin with.”

Ouch.

She huffed and dramatically flopped over the back of her chair, hoping he couldn’t see that she’d flinched. “So you don’t think I’m pretty??”

“Y/L/N,” he snapped, his voice a low warning. “Can I please just work? What is with you today?”

Y/N sent him a sour look before giving her Charms work another look. Malfoy was awfully quiet, and when she snuck any glances at him later on, he was angled to face away from her.

Why did she feel like such shit all of a sudden? She cataloged the past events, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that her stomach dropped. It all made sense when the words “You didn’t really have a shot to begin with” echoed around her head once again. She’d failed Harry. She’d failed Hermione. There was no way that she was going to be able to get him to reveal his secrets now--it’s not like he was confiding in even his closest friends as Harry made apparent when he explained how vague his statements were to his fellow Slytherins on the train. Her only chance would’ve been to somehow get him to fall for her, and that wasn’t going...great. And it had been a pipedream to begin with.

When McGonagall swished back into the classroom to dismiss them, Y/N shot out of there without even looking at Malfoy again. It felt like something was lodged in her throat and she was not going to cry in front of him. No, no. She had to make it to Hermione to tell her what was going on.

“Y/L/N?”

Malfoy’s voice made her pause in her flee as she nearly rounded the corner in front of her, but she refused to look back. It was far enough away that it was possible she didn’t hear him.

“Wait!”

She was up the stairs and speed walking as fast as her legs could carry her to the Gryffindor tower before he even saw which way she went.

“I don’t think you understand,” Y/N wailed by the fire as Hermione rubbed her shoulders and Harry sat awkwardly perched on the couch. “I can’t do this. The only way this was going to work was if he had a crush on me, and I don’t think he ever will. I fucked it up! The one time you guys need me, I fuck it up! I let you down!”

Hermione’s left hand stopped its rubbing to rest firmly on her shoulder. “Please don’t be upset. You didn’t let us down. Plus, you’re only, what...two weeks in? You don’t need him to like you to make it work. Just getting him to trust you will be enough, and you’re good at that.”

“I don’t think so,” continued Y/N. “Harry said that he wasn’t even that open on the train when he overheard him talking to all of his friends. And those are purebloods that he likes! That he’s trusted and known for years and years! I’m a friend of you guys, and he knows it. I think he’d figure it out quick.”

“We should take every chance we can get,” said Harry from his spot a few feet away, his eyes lazy and unfocused on the fire crackling in front of them. “You won’t let us down if you can’t get anything, Y/N, you know that! But if you got anything from him, it’d be incredible. It’s a win-win. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said, her tone becoming defensive. “I just...don’t want to mess this up. I know how much it’d mean if I succeeded.”

“So just try!” Hermione said. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m sorry he was kind of mean to you today, but I don’t think that should bother you too much. He should be more afraid of what you’d say if you didn’t care about being a good person.”

“Fucking right on there,” she said, wiping away the frustrated tears. “If I was honest with him, he’d leave crying. He should be grateful that I’m taking this bet so I actually have to be nice to him.”

“That’s the spirit.” Harry leaned over to smack her back like he did his Quidditch teammates after a winning match.

After they’d parted their ways with Harry, Hermione and Y/N made their way slowly up the stairwell to the girls’ dorms.

“Y/N?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think, er…” She paused. “Do you think you were really upset about failing us today? Or was it something else?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t see what else it would be.”

“I’m sorry,” responded the bright witch. “Forget I ever asked. It was a stupid thing to wonder about.”

“Weirdo,” she teased as she waved her a goodnight and made her way to her dorm.

The next morning, Y/N busied herself with revising her Charms essay over her breakfast--a cup of tea and a half-buttered piece of toast--while Hermione leaned over her shoulder, nodding or grimacing at the corrections she made.

“Did you work during detention? Like, at all?”

“‘Mione,” moaned Y/N. “It’s too early for this. I don’t want a lecture. I just couldn’t focus.”

Her warm brown eyes narrowed as they bore into Y/N’s face. “Why were you distracted?”

“Oh, I, uh…” She stumbled over her words as Hermione drew closer. “Merlin, Hermione. I told you last night. I just felt like I was letting you all down.”

“Mhm,” was all she got in response before her best friend tilted her head back down to the parchment in front of her.

Y/N sat, completely puzzled. What was Hermione on about? She’d been straightforward with what was hurting her--she didn’t want to mess up the only task the Golden Trio had ever given her--and, even if she hadn’t been, Hermione was smart enough to deduce things for herself. So what was she thinking about?

Her eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table where the usual 6th year pureblood gang loitered about, drinking black coffee and sulking--but Malfoy was not to be seen. She jumped when her eyes met Parkinson, her dark eyes burning into her soul as a deep scowl was written across her face.

“Malfoy, what the fuck do you want?” Ron’s voice pulled her back to reality to see him glaring somewhere behind her.

“I wasn’t here to talk to you,” a familiar voice drawled.

She turned to see Malfoy standing behind her, a sneer written all across his stupidly pretty face.

“Miss me already?” asked Y/N as she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side.

“For fuck’s sake, stop doing that,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket and throwing a box at her. “You forgot your quill. I took the liberty of properly storing it, because it seems like you lot like to just throw them in your bag. Makes me physically ill to watch.”

“Oh.” Y/N studied the intricate box in her hands before tucking it away in her knapsack. “Thanks? I guess?”

He nodded curtly, contorting his face into one last scowl to send to Ron before turning and leaving,

“So,” Hermione began, cutting her omelet at a much brisker pace, “I think we need to have a little chat. About...all of this.”

“Why?”

“Not right now,” she said, her voice low and her eyes flicking at Ron and Harry sitting across from them. “I don’t think it’d benefit us for them to hear.”

“Ok?” She cautiously took a bite out of her toast and continued staring Hermione down. “You’re scaring me.”

“It’s...I don’t know. I thought I was crazy for thinking this, but it seems like we need to talk about it anyways. For this little mission of yours to work, we need to be totally open and honest with each other.”

“Sure.” Y/N took another bite. “I honestly have no clue what’s got you so on edge, though.”

“Who’s on edge?” Harry asked, leaning over the table and stealing the croissant on Y/N’s plate.

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Do you not see the entire plate of them over there?”

He laughed, sending her an easy grin and dunking a piece into the hot chocolate in his mug. “Finders keepers. Say, Y/N, are you busy next weekend? Ron and Lavender are going to Madame Puddingfoot’s together, and I know Hermione isn’t going to want to take a weekend off studying to go to Hogsmeade, so I thought that maybe we could go cause some trouble at the Cauldron.”

“If you stop stealing my food we can talk about it,” replied Y/N, the corners of her lips tugging up into a grin.

“Deal.”

Hermione tugged at her arm. “I just realized I need to get something out of my room before we watch the Quidditch game. Will you come with me, Y/N?”

“Sure!” said Y/N. “Gee, I’m rolling in invitations today.”

Once they exited the dining hall, though, it immediately became evident that they were not actually heading up to the dorms. Hermione dragged her into the nearest bathroom before casting a quick silencing charm.

“Myrtle! Are you in here?” Only when she was sure silence was the only response to her question, she seemed satisfied to turn to Y/N and begin talking. “When were you going to tell me that you have a thing for Malfoy?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N felt the heat that had risen to her cheeks from the last quill-encounter re-emerge.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” said Hermione. “Are you seriously going to expect me to believe that you nearly sobbed over some random pureblood git telling you you never had a chance with him because it might slow down your progress with helping us? Actually? I’ve seen you look more ecstatic about hearing that your dear granny passed away.”

“To be fair, she had really good life insurance,” Y/N cut in. “And she was an old hag. Never had a nice thing to say to me.”

“Life insurance or no life insurance...you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you were just upset about not being able to help us as much. That was ridiculous. I don’t buy it. And the way you blushed like crazy when he came over to talk to you--the way you try and pretend like you can flirt...please. Y/N, it’s clear as day. I know you, and I know you have a crush on him.”

“Hermione!” hissed Y/N. “You have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“Yes, I think I do,” she pushed. “And you need to be honest with me if you want to be of any help right now.”

Her bossiness lit a fire of rage in Y/N’s chest, but she sucked in a deep breath, shutting her eyes before releasing it. “Believe me when I say I haven’t ever acknowledged any feelings I may or may not have towards him.”

“Ok.” Her face softened. “I know it might take time, but I honestly do think I’m right. Please just...be careful. This is a really odd situation to get caught up in if you actually have feelings for the other person. You’re trying to manipulate him, for Merlin’s sake.”

“And if I have these feelings for him, I’ve done a pretty damn good job of suppressing them for however long they’ve been here.”

Hermione sighed. “That’s true. I’m just saying that spending this much time with him is probably only going to make things worse. Will you please tell me if anything changes between the two of you?”

“Anything changes?” Y/N’s voice was dripping in disbelief. “You’re joking. Even if I was obsessed with him I don’t think there’s ever a chance of hell in anything ‘changing’ between us. He said it himself.”

“You know what I mean, Y/N,” responded Hermione. “Just promise me, ok?”

“Ok,” said Y/N. “I promise.”

That seemed to satiate Hermione as she nodded approvingly at her friend. “I think it goes without saying that Ron and Harry shouldn’t hear about this.”

“There’s nothing to hear about, but yes.” She shuffled her feet before meeting Hermione’s eyes again. “Er, I’m sorry for this being a weird question, but would you mind coming along with me and Harry to Hogsmeade? I don’t really see him like...that...and I don’t want to read into it too much and reject him if he is doing it just platonically, but just in case. Y’know.”

“Sure,” said Hermione, even though her face took on that curious expression yet again. “Anyways, you actually did forget something--you’re not wearing a single piece of Gryffindor colors for our game today. You should probably run back to your dorm before Harry and Ron notice.”

After they said their goodbyes, Y/N found herself turning over the things Hermione had said to her in her head. Did she like Malfoy? No, no fucking way. But a part of her really did think he was funny. And of course it was natural to feel rejected when anyone insinuates that they’d never consider you as a romantic interest without jest.

Once she’d made it up to her room and grabbed a few scarves, Y/N made to put her red cloak into her satchel. Her fingers ghosted over the box that Malfoy had given her and scoffed once she saw the Malfoy crest engraved into the rich wood.

Narcissistic snot.

Her curiosity got the better of her as she reached over to open up the elaborately decorated box. What met her was not just one quill but two--one of which was most certainly not her own.

She took them both out, tossing the old one in a pile with her other trusty familiar white feather quills and picked up the other one. It looked familiar--identical to the quill that she’d complimented Malfoy on in Potions about a week ago. Butterflies began to flutter like crazy in her stomach as she turned it over in her hand, watching the gray and green glitter together and the magic sparkles cast a gentle light over her bed. She generally avoided dipping into her family’s pockets to get school supplies any more than she had to--it’s not like it made her friends feel good about themselves when they were reminded how rich her family was--but this might be what she could consider to be an exception. She hadn’t even liked his quill all that much when she first saw it in Potions--but it was one of those things that was so noticeable that it made sense to compliment him.

She gave it one last look before tucking it back away into the elaborately decorated box. Perhaps she had spoken too soon when she’d told Hermione all hope was lost.

When Monday morning Potions class with the Slytherins rolled around, Y/N wasted no time. Malfoy was alone--even his Slytherin lackeys seemed to know not to bother him. Just what she needed.

“Malfoy,” she greeted, setting her bag down on his table and looking him dead on. He raised to meet her eyes, his eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?”

“I just wanted you to know that I also really like your immense fortune,” she said. “And your manor.”

“Well, a lot of people do,” he mumbled as he looked away to dig through something in his bag. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he was blushing.

“I’m just letting you know,” she continued. “In case you were wanting to give them away. It worked for the quill, so I thought, well, why not?”

He exhaled, a deep and annoyed sound escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You really didn’t have to.”

“I was getting sick of it,” he told her. “I never can stick with one quill for too long, and I thought it’d be a shame to toss it. I thought it’d be better to be charitable--it’s not like your family could get an appointment at Barnaby’s if they tried.”

“Hey!” Y/N said indignantly. “You don’t know that!”

“I’ve heard your parents try to speak French,” he said. “If you’re anything like them, you'll be barred from ever entering the country.”

“Malfoy!”

His lips turned up into a smile, a soft laugh escaping his lips. Y/N suppressed the urge to grin in return. Task 3? Done. “What?”

“I can’t even argue with you,” she said. “It’s tragic.”

She stared at the empty stool next to him, wondering if she should just take the leap and sit with him. Malfoy seemed unbothered by her presence as he opened up his Potions book and set it next to his cauldron. “Do you want a partner?” The words left her lips before she could stop them.

He cast her a curious look before glancing at the empty stool. “It depends. Are you going to be annoying?”

She gasped in faux-offense. “What makes you think I could ever be annoying?”

“On that note, I think you better get back to Potter.” He motioned with his head towards the side of the room where most of her Gryffindor friends were chatting. Harry was staring at her, his fists clenched by his side.

Y/N smirked and sent him a wink.

“On that note,” she said, careful to imitate Malfoy’s drawl and sending him a smug grin, “Maybe I better sit here.”

“Hm.” He awarded her one more uninterested look before rolling up his sleeves and setting out the ingredients for the potion they were brewing--Amortentia.

She tried not to make it too obvious that she was staring at his left arm, but there was nothing on it like Harry had told her. It was just pure, unblemished pale skin that shimmered under the light. Before he could catch her looking, she quickly sat down and started pulling out her own things. After a short pause, she decided to take out the silver quill. She’d left his box back in her room--she wouldn’t be caught dead with something that had the Malfoy crest on it--but she’d wrapped it in a pouch with her own family’s emblem on the front, shimmering in gold and red.

“Why don’t you just buy your own charmed quills?” asked Malfoy after they had chopped all of the gillweed.

“You already know. We’re an abomination to the French. We aren’t allowed entry.”

“That’s not what I mean.” His tone was meant to read as exasperated, but his words still seemed good-natured.

“I...well.” She frowned. She’d never confessed this to anyone, but she supposed that Malfoy wasn’t going to find a way to use it against her. “I don’t like to flaunt my family wealth. I think it makes people, at least in Gryffindor, like me less. I learned that pretty early on.”

He hummed something in response before sliding all the gillweed into the cauldron, turning the clear liquid into a bubbling forest green.

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” she asked.

He took his time finishing the note he was jotting down before he answered. “I’m not being nice. It’s just called being civil. You said it yourself, we see each other at balls sometimes.”

“We probably won’t anymore, though,” she mused.

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up, but his voice remained low and steady. “No. I suppose that we probably won’t. Is your family part of the Order?”

“Hm. Are you a Death Eater?” she asked brazenly. He had no business asking her something like that, and he knew it. Especially not with his family connections.

“What do you think?” he drawled, waving his bared left arm in front of her face.

“Bullshit. That doesn’t mean anything after we learned Glamour spells last year.”

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me, then,” he responded, focusing intently on the bubbling liquid in front of him instead of her face.

“I guess so,” she replied. The weight of her Glamour comment began to sink in--she was right, after all. How had she not thought of it before?

But he was right when he told her she just had to trust him. Could she? Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her propped hand as she watched him work. A piece of disobedient moonbeam blonde hair dangled over his forehead as he diced up the unicorn tail, his eyebrows furrowed in focus.

“Is this why you want to be my partner?” he finally asked after a few moments of silence. “So you can just stare at me while I do all the work?”

“There’s the vain Draco I know,” she said, grinning as she leaned over to punch his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes again, scooting out of arm's reach before flipping back to Amortentia in his book. “You’re insufferable. And it’s Malfoy to you.”

“Fine, fine, Malfoy,” said Y/N. “What do you want me to do, then?”

He shoved his cutting board towards her, the half-diced unicorn tail staring up at her. “Finish dicing this and then stir it in. 9 times clockwise. I did almost all of the work, but it should be finished after that.”

Y/N sent him another glare before doing as he said. The glittering quill kept catching her attention from the corner of her eye, and she couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy was writing with just a plain white quill for the time being. HE really did just give it to me.

After the final ingredients were diced, she began to stir, each rotation around the cauldron turning the potion to a different color. It began as the bubbling green, then a deep sea blue, then a royal purple, a crimson blood red, a glimmering gold--before settling into a pale silver.

“Wow. It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “It’s like...liquid starlight.”

“All thanks to me,” said Malfoy. “You didn’t even have to crush the Mandrake root.”

“You’re such a gentleman, Malfoy.” Her voice dripped in fake sincerity. “So, what do you smell?”

Y/N was expecting him to scowl at her and tell her that it wasn’t any of her business, but he actually leaned over the cauldron and shut his eyes.

“I’ve never been good at explaining what things smell like.”

“Fair.”

Once he leaned back, she took his place, shutting her eyes and breathing in a tendril of the beautiful potion. “Whoa.”

“What’s it for you?”

“I don’t...know,” she admitted. “It’s not something I can describe note by note. It kind of reminds me of something, though.”

“Something with Potter, I presume?” he said, casually twirling his generic white quill around his fingers.

“No,” she answered, surprised at how honest she was being. “It’s…I’m trying to think. Er, it’s very lavish. It reminds me of when I was younger and my parents would drag me to galas and balls and whatnot.”

He stared at her in silence.

“What about you? Does it remind you of anything?”

“Yeah.” Malfoy reached forward to put a lid on the cauldron, effectively shutting out the steam from reaching either of them.

“Ooh, have you figured it out yet?” she teased, crossing her legs and turning to face him head on. “Let me guess. Is it someone like…”

She paused, a wicked smile stretching across her face. “Oh my god, is it Hermione? Or Luna? Or...help me out here!”

“No.” His voice was sour.

“Ah, it’s Parkinson then, isn’t it? Tell her I’m sorry for throwing food at her if you ever have the chance. Make sure to add the part where I’m more sorry that I missed.”

“Y/L/N!”

“It’s okay. I’d be a little let down, too.”

“Can you please just…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please just stop. I haven’t figured it out. Okay? Happy now?”

“I’ll leave you alone,” said Y/N. “Under one condition. You give me a hint. I’ve given you everything I know! This isn’t fair.”

“This doesn’t have to be fair,” he hissed.

Y/N kept the easy smile plastered on her face while she waited, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“You’re not going to let up until I tell you, are you?”

“You’d be right on that,” she said, sugary sweet.

“Fine. It’s something kind of floral.”

“How descriptive,” she snorted as she slumped back in her stool, thinking hard. Where had she smelled it before? Y/N shut her eyes, leaning her head back and trying to immerse herself into the memory that had surfaced. It smelled like grandeur, like an open ballroom full of guests wearing expensive perfumes. She could feel spinning, spinning like she was with a dance partner. Who was it? She couldn’t quite remember--the last ball she’d been to had been years ago--but after she leaned forward and smelled the Amortentia once more time, she came to a conclusion.

“I had to have danced with him at a gala before,” she announced to Malfoy, who was looking quite unimpressed. “So I know it’s no one from Gryffindor.”

“Interesting,” was all he said before turning to his parchment and jotting something down.

Late that night, while Y/N was settling into bed, a strange idea struck her. Sure that the thought that was nagging her was completely fruitless, she had no trouble with reaching into her desk and pulling out the Malfoy box. She just had to check if she wanted to sleep well.

Here goes.

She closed her eyes, imagining the expensive scent of her Amortentia. Then she opened it, stuck her nose into the fabric, and breathed in.

Well, fuck.

The internal debate going through Y/N the next day at the breakfast table was intense. On one hand, she really, really wanted to just tell Hermione that Malfoy had been in her Amortentia and she was completely fucked, but on the other…

She glanced at the witch next to her as she methodically sliced her toast into perfect, equivalent squares before dunking them in jam. Y/N liking Malfoy was not going to fit into her toast cubes. If she said anything, she would lose her excuse to talk to her about him. And her excuse to try and get close with him.

Perhaps I can figure it out tomorrow.

When tomorrow came, she still hadn’t made progress. Y/N was beginning to think that her so called “revelation” after they brewed Amortentia was truly just complete and utter bullshit. So what that his quill box smelled like it--all rich people kind of smelled the same at some points, and so did their houses. There was a reason why she couldn’t immediately pin the scent to anything--it wasn’t like she even knew what Malfoy smelled like.

But the truth remained that she was still attracted to someone who happened to be a rich Slytherin--so naturally, her mind began to wander. There’s no way it was Zabini--his mother owned a fragrance line, and she would’ve instantly recognized the cologne that she knew Mrs. Zabini made him wear--and there was absolutely no way that it was Crabbe or Goyle, so the only other Slytherin it left was...Nott? But that didn’t make sense either--she’d never spoken to him before in her life, even less than Malfoy. So perhaps it would be better if she didn’t think on it.

The next day of potion brewing came on a stormy Wednesday. Malfoy and Y/N worked silently together to brew a Draught of Dreamless Sleep. She was surprised to see how practiced his movements were--he didn’t even have to reference the book to recite the exact measurements and directions.

“Do you have bad dreams or something?” she asked, mostly as a joke. He didn’t seem to pick up on the light-heartedness and stiffened up.

“No?”

“Gee, you’re talkative today,” Y/N said, trying to ignore how her hand brushed his by accident when she added the scoop of anjelica.

“Excuse me for not entertaining you,” he drawled. “I wasn’t expecting to have such a needy potions partner today.”

“I am not needy!” she gasped, smacking his arm. “I’ve sat in silence for a full hour!”

He rolled his eyes (he was always rolling his eyes) and gave the potion one more final stir before setting the lid on the cauldron. “Think you can do that again? It needs to simmer for that long.”

“Just because you’re so sweet to me,” crooned Y/N before pulling out a heavy book from her satchel. Her Charms exam was tomorrow, and, naturally, she had decided to save all of her revising work until the night before. The textbook stared back at her as she jotted a few notes onto a previously blank sheet of parchment. The quill in her hands was light and glided across the paper like the tears of Merlin, something that she had forgotten quills could do. All of her familiar basic quills were okay, but they were prone to skidding and breaking. This nib hadn’t worn down in the slightest, still at a smooth and defined peak.

Y/N couldn’t believe that, out of all people, the person to give her such a thoughtful gift was Draco Malfoy. She tried to sneak a glance at him then, moving her curtain of hair away from her face. It took all she had in her to not be startled at the fact that he was already looking back, a slightly concerned expression etched into his face.

“Is something wrong?”

He snapped out of it the moment the words left her lips, his face hardening. “No.”

“Forget I ever asked,” she responded, turning away from him for good and focusing on her textbook. No, there was no way he could be what she smelled in her Amortentia. She liked to think that her subconscious wasn’t secretly a masochist.

Friday evening swung around again, much to Y/N’s dismay. She’d had a talk with Hermione later on in the week, confirming that no, she did not smell Malfoy in her Amortentia, and that yes, she was still abiding by the plan that Hermione had so carefully laid out for her. It did bother her a bit that she could be lying to her on both fronts--but at the end of the day, she was going to get the answers that Harry wanted, no matter what.

She just had to get through the scary ass castle first. She’d forgotten how spooky Hogwarts was after her previous sprint to the door, and this time she was positively trembling by the time she turned another dark corner on her way to McGonagall’s office. Yet another cursed item had been found in the girl’s lavatory on the 3rd floor, right by some of the classes that she had taken earlier in the week. The fact that whoever was out there was capable of dark magic and actively wanted to hurt people terrified her, all that Gryffindor bravery be damned.

So when she heard footsteps suddenly right beside her, it was no wonder that she jumped feet in the air.

“Fuck!” she sputtered, turning to see a very familiar blonde in Slytherin robes. He was frozen in place, curiously looking her up and down.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Malfoy,” Y/N said, resisting the urge to melt into a puddle of relief at the sight. This wasn’t right--wasn’t he a suspected Death Eater? “You scared me.”

He scoffed, digging his hands into his pockets. “You’re supposed to be the brave ones, right?”

“Huh?”

Malfoy motioned to her Gryffindor jumper.

“Oh.” Heat rushed to her cheeks as she realized what he meant. “I dunno. I just get jumpy around the castle at night.”

“No shit.” They’d begun to walk now, side by side. Y/N couldn’t remember ever walking with him before--she’d always been late. “Do you think I forgot the way you screamed when you saw me at the tower?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, reaching over and giving him a healthy shove.

They walked in silence together. Malfoy moved noticeably slower than he normally did so he wouldn’t leave Y/N’s shorter legs in tow. McGonagall seemed pleasantly surprised to see Malfoy hold the door open for her.

“I’m glad to see you two getting along,” she said, giving Y/N a hesitant nod before grabbing the stack of papers on her desk. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

After she exited the room with a swish of her deep maroon robes, Malfoy turned to her. “Are you scared of the dark or something?”

She turned, ready to send a biting retort his way, before she noticed how gray his pallor looked...and how big the circles under his eyes were. “You look like shit, Malfoy. Is everything okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Oh. Um…” Y/N pause before deciding that the little tidbit of information she was about to reveal wasn’t that important anyways. “I’m just on edge at night at Hogwarts is all. Especially with all that weird shit going on with all the cursed objects. So I kind of hate walking to and from detention.”

Malfoy let out something that sounded like a strained laugh.

“You didn’t answer my question. Is everything okay?”

“None of your business,” he snipped. “I just had a bad night.”

“Do you have trouble sleeping?” she asked, unable to keep herself from prying.

“Something like that.”

“Have you tried lavender?”

“I’m sorry?” He frowned.

“Lavender. Like the essential oil. It’s nothing magical,” she explained. “I just like to spray it in my bed sometimes before I sleep. Or I’ll use a few drops in a diffuser. I have trouble sleeping too, all the time, actually.” She shut her mouth before she had any chance to ramble further.

“It sounds a bit too floral for my taste.”

“Here.” Y/N dug around in her satchel, searching for the tiny spray bottle she kept with her at all times. “Borrow this and spritz your pillow with it before you sleep, and then tell me it’s too floral. I promise it helps.”

He glared at her. She extended her hand with the white bottle that was covered in purple decor, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “I won’t tell anyone that you have it if that’s what you’re worried about or whatever.”

“Fine,” he snapped, snatching it from her hand and dragging his fingers over her palm for just a second. “Don’t expect me to actually try it, though.”

“Just give it a sniff.”

He huffed, but to her surprise, he actually uncapped the top and held the spray hole up to his nose, inhaling in once.

The effect was immediate. Malfoy’s face completely drained of color, becoming even grayer than he’d been when she first saw him under the light. The briefest expression of surprise fleeted over his face before he wiped it off, replacing it with something unreadable and tossing it back at her. “I’m not using this.”

“Why not?”

“Not quite my taste,” he spat.

Y/N was shocked by the sudden outburst, watching as he continued to glower at his desk. “I don’t understand. It really does help you sleep. I know it seems stupid, but I...really think you should try it. Just once, if anything.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because I--” Y/N stopped herself before she let her mouth run without check. “I know what it’s like is all. I feel like shit if I don’t sleep. Plus, I have to spend time with you every Friday. I imagine that you’ll be slightly more tolerable if you sleep more.”

“Hm.” He sent her a particularly venomous glare. “Thanks for your concern. Consider me uninterested, though.”

“You break my heart,” she teased, pulling back her hand and placing the bottle on the corner of her desk. An idea struck her.

“And just what are you smiling about?” Draco said. His lips were turned into a sour frown.

“Nothing, nothing,” she responded, her voice adopting a sing-song quality. All she had to do now was wait.

He exhaled, a deep and exasperated sound. Then he turned back to whatever was in front of him.

McGonagall entered the room a few minutes later, nodding cordially at the comfortable silence the two students were in. What she didn’t know was that Y/N was waiting, just waiting for Malfoy to dig through his satchel and stop paying attention to his quill.

She got her opportunity a few minutes later, when McGonagall called him up to look over his latest Transfiguration homework.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m happy to see that you’re taking more initiative in getting your assignments done...I have to say that you had me a bit concerned…”

While her professor kept Malfoy occupied, Y/N darted over and grabbed his quill.

Ha.

Malfoy frowned down at his desk when he returned, giving Y/N a suspicious look.

“What is it, Malfoy?” she said, hoping her voice conveyed nothing that might hint that she took something of his.

“Nothing.”

“Hm.”

The rest of detention passed without any more discussion. Y/N was eager to run up to her dorm and set up her plan to be carried out the next morning, but she calmed her bouncing leg and forced herself to keep a straight face when McGonagall dismissed them.

“Got somewhere to be, Y/L/N?” Malfoy’s voice called after her as she sped down the hall towards the Gryffindor tower.

“What’s it to you?” she fired back.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his pace until he was walking next to her.

“Aren’t the Slytherin dorms the other direction?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Are they?”

She allowed herself to be amused by the way words flowed out of his mouth when he was slightly out of breath. “Why are you walking with me?”

“You said it yourself.” He kept his eyes cast on the cobblestones below them. “You don’t like walking alone at night.”

“Uh...oh.” Against her will, her feet froze and she was glued to the ground. “You’re joking, right?”

If the lighting wasn’t so dim, Y/N would have good reason to believe he was blushing with how intently he was studying his fingernails. “By all means, I can be.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “Er...I’d like you to. If you want to, that is.”

He shrugged, an elfish expression spreading across his face as he took in how nervous she was. “Well, come to think of it, you didn’t ask me to. I suppose I better get back to the Slytherin dorms anyways. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the Gryffindor Tower right now.”

“Why?” she squeaked.

“Oh, you know, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the cursed things showed up on your side of the castle, yeah?”

She gulped.

“I gotta get going. Don’t want to stand around here too long. This place gives me the creeps.” With that, he turned and began walking away.

“Malfoy?” She hated how timid her voice sounded. “Consider this me asking you to walk with me.”

He slowly faced her, a sly grin plastered all over his face. “Oh? Did I hear that correctly? Do you want me to?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and trying her best to look intimidating. “Walk with me. Please.”

“I guess I’ll take it.” Malfoy glided down the hallway to her in just a couple steps, sending her yet another smug look.

“You made up that whole ordeal about Gryffindor Tower being targeted, didn’t you?” asked Y/N as they rounded the corner to reach the staircase leading up to the common room.

“You bought it, didn’t you?”

“Who says I didn’t just want you to walk with me?” pushed Y/N. This was as close to flirting as it would ever get for her--but it looked like, somehow, things were falling into place. The heat in her cheeks must’ve been from the excitement of making progress.

Malfoy’s toe caught on the first stair and, if it weren’t for Y/N’s steady grip on his arm, would’ve made him go sprawling across the stone steps.

“Merlin, Malfoy,” she said, immediately dropping her grip from his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

He responded with an unceremonial snort and a withering glare. The rest of the walk was done in silence, and Y/N noted how careful his footwork became around the Gryffindor steps.

“This is me,” she finally said once they reached the tapestry for the Gryffindor dorms. He seemed surprised, and only then did it strike her that he’d probably never seen the entrance himself before. “Thanks for being such a gentleman.”

“I live to serve,” he drawled.

And just like that, he was gone.

Her plan was simple. She had located an extra monogrammed pouch in her cabinet, a rich mahogany color with her family crest in a vivid gold, and placed both his quill and the lavender bottle. She would corner him after breakfast or follow him out of the Great Hall and show him then.

However, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Malfoy was not coming to Saturday morning breakfast. Many people didn’t, but Y/N had never known him to miss it. His normal spot was vacant, and it certainly wasn’t a house-made decision as all of his Slytherin friends were present and accounted for. Y/N couldn’t say for sure, but she could see Parkinson turning her head to the entrance every time the doors thudded open before glancing back to Malfoy’s empty seat when it turned out to be someone else.

Where was that loser?

“Excuse me,” she said to the trio as she stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I think I’m going to go get some fresh air. I have a bitch of a headache.”

Hermione and Harry expressed their sympathies while Ron gave her a characteristic mumble through his mouthful of bread, and she was off with the pouch secured in her cloak pocket.

It was a clear November morning, clearly Mother Nature’s attempt to slowly move the world from the crisp autumn to a cold winter. The sky was clear and the sun’s rays warmed her skin at a slanted angle, casting weak shadows across the courtyard.

If I were Malfoy, where would I go to sulk?

The obvious answer was either the Slytherin common room or his own dorm, but that was without a doubt out of question for her. She wasn’t even sure if she possessed the knowledge to guess which corridor the entrance was in, much less work out the password herself. Beyond that, just getting into the common room and waiting would be...She shivered. It would be a terrible idea while she was clearly wearing a cloak in Gryffindor red and gold trim.

As she continued her aimless wander around the castle, she heard the slightest sound from the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. It wasn’t ever really in use--no one came in there to actually use the loo unless they wanted Myrtle to materialize and tell them her supernatural troubles while they were in the middle of their personal business--but it was often the source of strange happenings.

Like the cursed objects she thought to herself, her nails digging into her palms. But did she care about that right now? Surely cursed objects seemed somewhat...suspicious. Dark magic was difficult to hide, and to a pureblood eye that grew up around magical objects, cursed things shouldn’t be impossible to spot.

And, plus, it was Malfoy she was looking for. None of the students had died from the curses so far, and if she was able to break through and learn something, or at the very least gain his trust, the reward to the Order would be more than worth it.

She stepped in, expecting to see an entirely empty bathroom with perhaps a ghost rattling around at the sink. Instead, a different sight awaited her.

Draco Malfoy was clutching the edge of the cracked sink basin in front of him, rocking himself back and forth and shaking. From her vantage point, she could see that he was dressed in his normal garb--a black ensemble--but his hair was unruly and messy, sticking up in the back like he’d hurriedly tugged something over his head.

A strangled gasp grounded her and halted her curious observations. Malfoy began to make these awful sobbing sounds, like he could barely manage to breathe.

Y/N was frozen in place as she surveyed her options. If she stayed and tried to talk to him, he might react in anger or hurt her. But if she just left him, like this, all alone...She swallowed once before stepping forward.

“Malfoy? Are you okay?” Obviously he’s not, you bint said a voice deep in her brain. She pushed it aside as he swung around, his wand raised and his eyes blazing. “Whoa! I’m not going to...Put your wand down!”

He stared at her, his eyes wide with horror as he continued to shake, so much so that his wand slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Without thinking, Y/N reached into her pocket and flung her wand away, holding her hands up.

“I’m not going to try anything. I promise.”

As she drew closer, she could see the remnants of tears on his wet cheeks and the way that his silver eyes were rimmed with a bloodshot red.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he hissed, his voice weak and cracking.

“Neither should you. This is the girl’s bathroom.”

final a/n: ok so lmk if you guys wants me to continue. i really did not edit the last half fjkdsal;f also kinda made this an au where malfoy tried to assassinate dumbledore. with more than one cursed object but dw it’ll all make sense ill clear that up 😭

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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in-ky · 3 years

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An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

#negan x y/n #negan x reader #negan smith #negan x you #alpha!negan #omega!reader #a/b/o kink #twd a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

622 notes · View notes

saturnsstufff · 3 years

Text

The Empress (pt.V)

Emperor Vacation! Pog! Remember to drink water today lovely’s!

also if you squint hard enough you might see me simping for C!Philza.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death

The flight back to your village was long, it wasn't that you were in bad company, just after sitting so long you were extremely stiff. You could only shift positions so much before your butt, and legs were numb. So when Phil had mentioned seeing land, you were more than glad it was over.

Phil was right about having a extra cloak on too, the wind was horrible, not to mention the altitude you flew at was already freezing. Phil and Techno were smart on leaving when we did though as well. By the time we reached the village it was easily past noon. You were kind of giddy on showing Phil around your village. On the way up you and him discussed a bit about it, and your heritage. He was very open and interested when you explained how everything came to where it was today. Along with going home, you were also more excited to see and hug your parents. You could only imagine what your father would say about you working for a ruler.

When Phil and techno landed it was near the village, but also in a bit of a walking distance. Phil had made wind that he didn't want to land too close, and risk scaring anyone. After Phil had helped you out of the plane, all of you were stretching out. Especially Philza, he had made comments on how the plane's only down side was the confined space for his wings. When he let his wings span out you were awe struck. There were massive, easily wide enough to lift himself off the ground. The wings, although made for use, were oh so elegant. When Phil stretched you could see his figure better now. his wings spanning out wide behind him into the air, almost like a bird preparing flight. He wasn't in his normal Robes, instead he exchanged them for a simple black shirt that clung to his form. The arms were cut off, allowing you so see his fit arms. this didn't surprise you, the sword Phil always carried looked like it had a bit of weight to it. For being a father, Phil was very fit. Once his stretching was finished he took a light cloak from the plane and precisely wrapped it around his shoulders, minding his wings.

Well you two worked the numbness away techno had approached. He also was stretching. But simultaneously shedding a few of his layers. He casually tossed the cloaks and capes into your seat of Phil's plane. You did shed a few layers like Phil, but not as many as Tech.

"Are you sure you don't want something to block the sun? Sun burns suck" you said to techno. He unbuttoned the top two buttons to his shirt, before pulling his main braid out, changing the style for his ponytail.

"If I wear to many I might get heat stroke" He said simply, watching you. Without his mask he wasn't as menacing, but you definitely weren't used to seeing his face. you gazed at him with a perplexed look.

"Heat stroke?" You knew what it was, but you were a little confused. He chuckled lightly as Phil looked up to you two.

"My body runs hotter, princess" he crossed his arms, relaxing into his stance. You flushed at his words again. Glancing away to avoid his eye contact. ’fuckin’ hell there he goes again’ His tone was casual, but he was obviously still in his teasing mood.

"Since Tech is part Piglin his body is always warmer than you or I, that's why sometimes he just walks around in the snow without freezin'" You looked up to Phil and nodded. It made sense, you will admit, sometimes you forget that techno isn't fully human. When you think of Piglins you usually think of a gold obsessed beast. But Techno carried himself with elegance and pride. Yes he adorned himself in gold, but that was part of who he was. He had a right to be proud of it.

You started towards your village with the two. As if a unsaid agreement occurred they made you walk between them, walking like your own personal body guards. Techno strolled on your right well Phil kept close on your left. When you saw the children playing outside you smiled brightly. You missed this. The sound of children's laughter carried around like ringing bells. Sweet and ever so innocent.

As you walked into town. Some of the older kids ran up to hug you, jumping into your arms without hesitation. You without a thought picked them up and spun them about in your arms. These were your friends. Your community was small so everyone was close. Phil and techno respected this and just quietly stepped aside to give you the moment. Soon some of the other towns people had stepped out to see what all the commotion was about. Your mother included.

When she saw you her eyes lit up with love. She couldn't help but grab her skirt and run to you. Hugging you tightly to her chest, almost knocking you off your feet. Her tears of joy could be felt on your shoulder as you held her tight. Your nose buried into her neck, you missed this. You missed her. You missed the village. Everything just made you beyond happy at this moment. everywhere you looked there were smiles, wide and contagious. Soon you herd a quiet voice. Your father. When you looked up it was your turn to tear. he was hobbling over to you, his arms wide. You smiled widely hugging him tightly, but carefully. You didn't want to hurt him.

"I did it.. I did it- I did it!" You were so ecstatic. Your father put his hand on the back of your head gently well he hugged you. You were his little girl, and he was beaming with pride for you.

"I'm so proud of you.." He was tearing. He was proud of you. So very proud of you. He was even happier to see you back home safely too. He pulled back, taking a moment to take you in, you looked a tad different from your trip. not in a bad way, just a little different. Your fathers eyes moved from you, to Techno and Phil. "I assume these two are with you?" Your father asked. He was mostly summing Tp techno, you assumed because he was basically a year older than you. Phil sent your father a kind smile and nodded.

"Oh! Mhm! Sorry, I forgot to introduce them. This is Philza, and his Imperial Highness Technoblade." Your fathers eyes widened. When he realize was in the presence of royalty, he tried to go to his knee to bow. Techno quickly grabbed his arms in turn. Sopping him from doing so.

"Please.. (y/n) told us of your pain. I couldn't ask formalities from you, sir" your father was speechless. He could only look at Techno with awe. Techno helped him stand properly. Only letting him go when he safely had himself steadied. Your mother chimed in.

"Would you like something to eat or drink perhaps?" She asked looking between your father, Phil and Techno.

After hearing the young emperor was in your house, the village was buzzing around trying to tidy up a little. Nestled inside your house however Techno and Phil were eating. You had ate, but also were packing a few more possessions that you held dear to you.

You knew that after today you would start your full time job as a blacksmith. In the beginning you were nervous. Everything you herd about there kingdom was terrifying. But after seeing who is in control you actually have felt very at ease with them. Wilbur was ever so kind, Phil treated you like an additional child of his, and Techno was something all in himself. You did find yourself thinking back to how he has taken up the nickname 'princess' for you. It made you blush obviously, but it was just how he said it that made you want to hear it again, and again. He could be so brooding and quite. But also find a way to joke and tease. Not only that, but just from what had happened outside your home. He didn't want your father hurting himself on his own account. It was the little things like that, that somehow just made your heart maybe skip a little faster.

Well you pondered Techno and his family, you didn't realize that he was leaning on your door way until he spoke up.

"Having troubles packing?" He asked. You couldn't help but jump. Turning to face him. His eyes were relaxed, along with his stance. He was just hanging about basically.

"Sorta" you said. Glancing him over. He slowly walked into your room and looked about curiously. Mentally you were thankful you cleaned before you left. Your room was small, your bed shoved against the wall, navy blankets resting on top of the mattress. Next to the bed there was a nightstand with the candle still half melted from the last use. Your dresser was across your bed, old and worn, it had been your grandmothers previously. Next to that was a little desk you and your dad had built. Your room wasn't much, but you could tell somehow techno didn't mind. "Its hard in a way..." He looked up at you. His eyes dancing between yours.

"How so?" He questioned as you sat on your bed. He took the que and leaned on your dresser. Respecting your space. He knew he wasn't familiar to you like Wilbur or phil. He did want to get to know you more, but he also didn't want to force you to befriend him.

"Well... I mean I've grown up here. All my life and memories are here... I know I can make more at the palace with you and your family." You smiled softly. "Wilbur already wants to teach me how to ice skate..." Techno smiled a little.

"I bet you'll fall" he mused. You laughed a bit. smiling down to the boards under your feet.

"I probably will.” you were smiling gently, It’s the little actions like this that made you happy to see the family for what they were. Rather then what the rumors had painted them as. “I dunno, I know I want to work for you. I know my parents will appreciate the money and-" at this Techno’s brow furrowed slightly before he cut you off.

"(Y/n) are you sure your doing this for yourself. Or for your parents?" The question took you aback briefly. Earning a slight head tilt. Techno pressed his lips, thinking of how to continue. "Are you working for me to make your parents happy. Or are you working because you will be happy?" You could only look at him with a blank look. He had a point there. "If your working to make your parents happy, you will be miserable the whole time your with us" He was watching your expression. Trying to read it for how you felt. You were kind of stumped. Techno had stepped closer. His boots were in front of yours. When you looked up he was right there. "I don't want to see you miserable well working" his gaze was gentle. He wasn't talking as a ruler, but rather as a friend. you understood too. If your hearts not in it, your work will never be as good. You paused a bit.

"I do want to work for you. Its.. what my heart is telling-" again he cut you off, leaving your mouth agape with the words of your sentence lingering.

"Your heart is a organ, it cant tell you what it wants" ok you wanted to hit him. He knew what you meant.

"I mean... my consciousness is telling me to go with you and Phil. I really like your guy's company. Your brother Wilbur Is a lot of fun too." You shrugged and looked down a bit. Techno moved again and slowly sat beside you, almost hesitant like he wasn't sure if he could. When he sat the bed dipped quite a bit. Not that he could help it. He was a built man. "Maybe its just telling me to go because your family is the closest thing I've had to genuine friends..." Techno's face contorted into a little confusion. Getting a 'heh?' Out of him.

"Don't tell me you've never had friends, princess" he said looking down at you.

You smiled a little. "I've had friends... but usually there years younger than me. Like four or five. Maybe seven. I mean friends closer to my age like you and Wilbur" techno hummed a bit. His cheeks a very faint pink.

"So you think of me as a friend now" his brow raised in question. his gaze was curious. not swaying to disgust, nor pure joy.

“I mean, if I can count you as one...” You said looking up to him. If someone would have walked in at this moment, they would have thought they disturbed a moment between the two teens. Techno was tall, but that didn't stop his head from lingering down by yours. Your Voice was softer almost unsure now. Techno didn't speak at first, his eyes only lingering your face. soon he hummed in response, standing slowly.

“Mmn... I mean. I guess you could.” his cheeks were tinted the faintest pink as he moved his fist to his mouth, clearing his throat. “yeah, yeah... I suppose were friends”

When you were fully packed you walked out from your room, Techno in tow. Your fathers eyes saw your form and lingered on the two of you. Your father wasn't born yesterday, something inside him knew that there was unspoken chemistry between Techno and you. He didn't mind that though. Well, ok maybe he did. You were his daughter after all.

“do you have everything you need?” your father asked, his tone softer when addressing you.

You nodded, slinging the bag over your shoulder. “I believe so, If not ill just have to come back” You smiled gently. Your father returned the smile. Phil looked up to Techno who was standing behind you, his arm’s crossed as he leaned on your door frame.

“We should probably leave soon if we want to make it to the Mansion by night fall, Techno” Techno offered a nod to his father. when looking at Phil he couldn't help notice how your fathered watched him. Techno did understand though, it was probably unnerving to know he would be sending his young daughter several miles away with a teenage boy. Of course Phil was present, but that was minor. Techno simply just returned a look to your father, not trying to be hostile, nor too passive. After all techno did have a name to keep up.

Your small group slowly moved outside to the street. you didn't notice, but your father had pulled Techno aside well you went with your mother and Phil. You hugged your mother tightly. wanting to savor the feeling of her hug. knowing it would be quite a while before you got another one.

“Promise me you’ll be safe (y/n)...” she said softly. you nodded slowly, nuzzling into her neck. you could feel the tears threatening to spill. You knew the goodbye wasn't forever, but that still didn't lessen the slight sadness. This was a new chapter in your life. you couldn't live your life on a single page. it was time to move on and see what else awaited in your story. when the two of you pulled away, your mother saw your tears and wiped your eyes gently. “Chin up, you’ll make a lovely smith, honey” you smiled softly, taking deep breaths to calm your tears. Soon Techno had returned back to Phil’s side after his talk with your father. You turned towards the two of them together and smiled at them. Techno offered you a nod well Phil smiled back at you.

“I'm going to miss you runnin’ around that forge” Your father said, he also had a few tears welled up in his eyes. “You better bust your butt down there and show em’ what your made of” You nodded at him, taking his words of courage to heart.

You hugged him tightly. Him returning the tight hug. “Ill miss you...” you muttered to him. keeping your face hidden in his neck. Your dad was your grounder, he was along your side the whole way. Starting the new chapter without him was hard, but you knew it was necessary. “I love you...”

“I love you too... Be safe for us...” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

By the time you reached France's countryside it was night already. Well in flight you had rested yourself on the side of your seat. Watching the ground fly past with incredible speed. Phil kept a keen eye on you to make sure you didn't fall. The last thing he wanted to do was have to turn around and explain to your parents that you fell to your death.

Techno and Phil made wind of wanting to find somewhere to set up camp for the night. Knowing they both shouldn't fly well tired. When they saw the mansion up ahead however, they lost there ideal for a camp. Instead they landed nearby and prepared themselves to enter. Rambling off about where to enter. You were quite unsure about this, after all this was someone’s home. As they went on about a plan you looked the mansion over. It was rather massive to be honest. The mansion, although big, was ever so detailed and beautiful. The owners took amazing care of the structure. Well your eyes scanned the side, you saw movement from one of the windows. this made you realized that there were things inside. they planned to raid a mansion that someone lived in. Your eyes wondered for more movement and that's when you saw it. A Pillager. You felt rage take hold of your chest.

"What are we doing here." Your voice was harsh, this caught Phil off guard. He wasn't used to hearing you take up such a tone. Phil and Techno swapped quick glances. Pondering if they should tell you about there plan. Ultimately Techno figured you should be included. Seeing that if this raid wad successful, your first task would be presented.

"Do you know what Pillagers are?" Techno inquired. He knew you did, but he meant his question beyond face value. He was quizzing to see if you where aware of their history.

"Yeah, heartless creatures that kill for fun" You hissed, not wanting to be near the mansion anymore. Techno watched your eyes. He could see the hate swirling within. To him this was intriguing to see you angry. Usually you were more quiet and docile.

"Pillagers are a branch of Illagers..” Techno started slowly “The Illagers were a old type of Cult that was formed for the sole purpose of Black Magic" His tone was slow and calculated, he wasn't talking down to you, rather just simply explaining. "They are known for dealing with Alchemy, and Witchcraft" his eyes glinted with something that you couldn't quite put your finger on. "They even have been Rumored to deal with Necromancy" You were a little confused now.

"What's Necromancy?" You inquired, your hate was leaving and slowly replacing with curiosity. Simultaneously, you didn't understand where this was leading.

"The ability to raise the dead." You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words. You sent glances between the two of them. that's ridiculous, no one can raise the dead, it was impossible. Once you were dead, you were dead. You started getting uncomfortable with the way the conversation was leading. "It is rumored they have a Item that can bring those who have died back" Techno’s eyes never left yours.

"That's.. That's impossible..." You said quietly, watching Techno intently. His eyes glinted again, you weren't familiar with his side of him so it raised alarm within you. This wasn't the Techno that sat with you in your room. Nor the one that asked your father not to bow. This side of him was different, almost more daring, and challenging.

"Oh, but is it?" He paused briefly, His voice rose up now. Taking a tone of greatness. Turning to face the mansion. Soon expanding on his thought. "You see (y/n), sometimes rumors are so far fetched... That they just have to be real." You glanced to Phil who only watched Techno like you. "The item they have, rather a totem actually... Can indeed bring the dead back. But it has to be on the person upon there death. You cannot bring someone who is long gone, back" he said simply.

"How do you?..." you struggled to find your voice. “How do you know it’s true?” you asked no longer liking his tone. He turned back to face you, his emerald earring catching the moon light.

"Because I have tested it" He said, looking into your eyes. Once he saw your eyes and the emotion that swirled within them he paused. He swallowed thickly, pondering his thoughts briefly. "I want you to stay back with the planes..." His tone had softened, it was the same one he used to address his father nights ago. "You'll be safe with them..." He glanced away, no longer able to keep your gaze.

"We'll be back soon, I promise" Phil said, sending you a reassuring smile. the two of them turned and headed towards the entrance. there swords drawn, ready to counter what was inside.

You had been waiting for a while now. The sound of the forest was peaceful. You had missed the frogs croaking, well the crickets chirped a endless harmony. In the artic this wasn't a luxury, the land was so snow covered that not many bugs resided, if any. The only sound you could hear was a low whistle, or hum, which was only the wind really. The temperature had dropped well you sat waiting, causing you to rub your arms for warmth. You looked down into the cockpit looking for one of the cloaks left behind. You felt one of them and pulled it onto your shoulders, securing the clasps. The feeling of the fabric quickly warmed your arms. You laid your head back, pondering the look that Techno had in his explanation. The look he had was hard to explain, it’s almost like he wasn't himself. Like he had something else within him, fueling him, talking to him. You didn't know Techno deeply, but you had seen him for a few weeks now, his attitude then compared to now was different. It was unnerving to say the least.

Well pondering and listening to the casual hum of the woods, something caught your ear. You pushed yourself up so you were sitting. You could plain as day hear crying. But not just any crying, it was a Childs. You slowly climbed down from the cockpit. You know they told you to stay put, but you also couldn't just listen to a child cry. Your hand fell to the sword that hung on your hip. Slowly you started your descend into the woods, determined to find the source.

The woods were thick. Everywhere you looked there was a branch ready to swat at your head. Minding the branches, you were able to spot the small crying toddler. He was curled up tightly, his knees to his chest as he wept. He had dirt on him, his face stained with tears and mud. His red and white shirt was torn to hell. At the sight of him your heart hurt. He saw you and without hesitation he reached up, wanting you to pick him up.

"H-hey.. Shh.. sh.. your alright.. your safe.." Your tone was gentle as you carefully picked him up. Subconsciously your body started swaying without a spare thought. The boy did slowly quiet down. You glanced around and tucked the boy within the cloak next to you, wanting to keep him warm. You needed to find Techno and Phil, like. Right now. "I'm gonna h-help you ok bud?.." you could feel him nod his head against you. Gripping to your clothes tightly.

You tried to hurry back to the mansion, but luckily that wasn't hard to find due to the fact it was on fire. Wait why was it on fire. You now broke into a run, fearing that Phil and Techno were caught within it. But no, of course not. They were simply in front of the burning mass, watching the once beautiful mansion turn to ash.

"What the hell happened here?..." You drifted off as your eyes scanned the flames with wide shock. Phil turned to you and smiled.

"Oh there you are (y/n)- whatcha' got there?" He tilted his head seeing the bump underneath the cloak. Techno turned as well, blushing faintly when he saw you.

You stared up at the giant fire well approaching them. "I uh.. found him.." you pried your eyes from the train wreck in front of you, still not able to wrap your mind around this.

"What did you find?..." Techno asked trying to see beneath your cloak, that was actually his. But he didn't want to bring that up yet, finding you within it quite adorable.

You moved the cloak to show the toddler, Phil's wings puffed out a bit when he saw the child in your arms. Both of their eyes widening. "I wanted to bring him back to you... He was alone when I found him and I've never taken care of a toddler so..." You slowly handed the child to Phil. He didn't fuss much with being handed off. Instead he just buried his head in Phil's neck. As if on instinct he checked the child to make sure he was ok, no cuts, or bruising "I couldn't leave him out there..." you said chewing your lip. Phil only kept his eyes on the child. Pondering.

"No of course not.." Phil said slowly, looking down to the child. Rubbing his back. "Hey buddy.. do you have a name?.." Techno and you watched curiously. The toddler nodded. Sitting up to wipe his big round blue eyes.

"I'm Thomas.." His voice was rough, showing he had been crying a while.

"Its nice to meet you Thomas.. I'm Philza, and this is Technoblade, over here is (y/n). How old are you?" Phil asked slowly. Just like he would with his own boys. Tommy held up two tiny fingers, showing how old he was. "Your two? Wow your a big man, ya?" Tommy slowly nodded. "Do you know where your mom or dad is?" The boy shook his head and broke into a large sob. "Sshh.. don't worry.. we'll find them ok?" The small boy nodded through his cries, gripping to Phil.

After finding Tommy we checked every nearby village we could think of, but no one claimed the poor child. The longer he was with us, Phil started to grow very attached to the boy. Techno wasn't very surprised with this of course, and neither were you quite honestly. You knew he had adopted Techno on a whim from what Wilbur explained. That's why Phil popped into your brain when you found Tommy.

We ultimately decided to head home with Tommy. None of the villages we searched seemed to recognize tommy, so Phil figured it was the universe telling him that he has another child. Phil kept him on his lap most of the trip. Occasionally handing him to you or letting him ride with Techno, to whom your surprise, seemed to have a soft spot for children. Tommy found a lot of joy out of being in the plane with you three. You would bounce him on your lap when he was under your watch, letting him stretch out in joy. His little giggles rang out loud, bringing smiles to Phil's face. You did pull him into your arms securely when you reached the artic air however, mostly just to keep him warm.

When you arrived to the palace Wilbur was confused on your early arrival. He had expected you three to be gone for at least two, to three days. But when he saw the toddler he mostly summed up the early arrival. Phil didn't linger long on the hellos of being home. Instead he took tommy straight to the physician to make sure he wasn't sick at all. His parent sense buzzing in full drive.

Well waiting for Phil and tommy to show up again, Techno, Wil and you had found yourself comfortably in the library. You were extremely tired. But like Techno you were waiting to see Phil and Tommy first, before you made a run for your bed. The fire was lazily burning in front of you offering a warm wave of comfort. Your head started to roll from your sleepless state. Even Technoblade started to droop his head. Luckily Phil walked in with a happy tommy on his hip.

"The Physician says he’s all good health wise. nothing we should be concerned about thankfully" Phil said. Claiming his seat beside Techno. Tommy made his way into techno’s lap, interested with the earrings he had. Instead of telling him no, or swatting his hand away, Techno just took one of his earrings out. showing tommy the jewelry. The two of them were honestly were too adorable.

“Is he our new brother?” Wilbur asked, watching the curious two year old.

Tommy held all of your attentions, his actions were all done in innocence and curiosity. He was a cute kid, he had little Ringlet’s of blonde hair that matched Philza’s. “You think we can handle another mouth to feed?” Phil asked looking to Wilbur. Wil nodded in response. The idea of a younger brother exciting him. Phil looked back to Techno and Tommy.

Tommy was happily babbling off about things he thought were cool on Techno. Techno only sat with kind eyes and a soft smile, replying to tommy.

“I suppose I do have a new son now” Phil said, a kind smile dancing on his lips.

#techno x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #TE

515 notes · View notes

my-happy-little-bean · 3 years

Text

The Rainbow Manor

pairing: platonic DLAMP words: 5138 warnings: swearing, references to homophobia, toxic/homophobic parents, brief description of a small injury, blood, brief descriptions of panic/anxiety attacks, crying, angst

a/n - hello friends! hope everyone is doing well! i was lucky enough to be commissioned by the lovely @youronelesbianfriend to write this story (side note, their commissions are open too so...whatcha still doin here, go and do that!). i was overjoyed when i saw the prompt she gave me, and had such a good time writing it! (also inspired me to maybe formally advertise commissions? you can peek at my tumblr every now and then to see if i do, but if you also want one you can DM me!)

so without further ado, here is some content ✨

read on ao3!

—

The Rainbow Manor is a lot of things.

It’s a home for the biggest family that could exist. It’s a safe haven from the cold, stormy outdoors. It’s the kind of blanket made of the same velvet the night sky is made of; it’s quiet, it’s warm, and it’s filled with stars. All it takes is one step inside and you would find yourself filled with a sense of belonging, of hope.

You could run the furthest distance away from it all, and the Rainbow Manor would always open its doors to you.

Patton would know. He was the first one to try.

~*~

“Okay, so here’s what happened,” Roman Prince said, looking down at his clipboard as he weaved him and Patton through the halls. “I was going to show the new people around myself, but then I forgot the paperwork in your office — and then I realized, ‘hey, what better person to show them around than The Man himself!’; capital T, capital M!”

Patton half-heartedly smiled as he snuck a peek at Roman’s papers.

“How many are there?”

“Three, so it won’t be too bad. One of them’s Virgil — you remember Virgil, right?”

“Right.” Patton smiled fondly, remembering Roman’s birthday party last year. Him and Virgil had shown up covered in cake. He never really saw Virgil after that day, but clearly him and Roman stayed acquainted against all odds.

They turned a corner into the break room where three people sat around a table. Roman clapped his hands.

“Alrighty! Sorry for the wait.”

All three of them stood up. The one in the black and purple hoodie—the one Patton recognized as Virgil—rolled his eyes.

“Waiting is part of the contract with you, Princey.”

Roman faux-gasped. “Hey, that was one time! And if I didn’t take too long that day, we would have taken the wrong cake!”

“We did take the wrong cake, Roman. That’s why it exploded.”

“...Oh yeah.” Roman grinned. “Forgot about that.”

Virgil shook his head, but showed a hint of a smile. Patton took a step forward to extend his hand out to him.

“Nice to see you again, Virgil!” He then addressed the two behind him. “And if we’re talking cake, I guess you both can call me Patton-cake!”

The one wearing a black, short-sleeve button up frowned, adjusting their thin blue tie.

“I read on the website that your name is Patton Morgan.”

“It’s like patty-cake, but Patton-cake!”

“...Right.”

“Ignore my friend’s simply lively commentary.” The last person stepped forward. They wore a pale-yellow button up under a grey vest. “That’s Logan. Do not be astounded by how that pencil is both sharp and dull — he’s always like that.”

“And that’s Janus,” Logan seethed, crossing his arms. “They’re always like that.”

Patton chuckled. “Well it’s nice to meet you both. I’ll show you guys around?”

They all nodded, following Patton as he led them out the door. The icy awkwardness of first encounters fortunately thawed as conversation quickly blossomed. Patton learned that Logan was the new volunteer manager and was close friends with Janus, who was joining the growing team of counsellors. Virgil, on the other hand, was the newly-appointed social media and communications coordinator; a position Roman used to double as alongside being head of recreation and programming, until he overdid it with the website graphics and crashed the site for two days. Sometimes, change was necessary, Patton learned.

“So that’s pretty much the whole place!” Patton said brightly at the end of the tour, stopping outside his office. He handed them their job description packages. “I hope you all get situated soon! And if you ever need anything, you now know where my office is!” He motioned to the door with jazz-hands. “Here!”

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan hummed. He looked around idly. “I must say, I am rather impressed by how well-established and organized the facility is, especially for one that is fairly new.”

“Well call me corny, ‘cause all I can say is ‘aw shucks’!” Patton beamed. “You know, if you told me almost a year ago that I’d be standing here today, I think I’d be impressed too!” He nudged at Roman. “But I obviously didn’t do any of it alone. It’s the people that really make this place home — people like Roman, who’s been with me since the very beginning!”

“Oh, Patton! You make me sound like the hero of this place.” Roman pretended to flip his hair. “So thank you!”

“A humble hero,” Virgil retorted. Roman just stuck out his tongue at him.

“But in all seriousness, Patton’s downplaying his efforts to the floor!” Roman wrapped an arm around Patton’s waist and pulled him in close. He waved out in front of him. “He’s a true phoenix who rose from the ashes and built this place with his own two hands!” Roman then spun Patton away from him, a trail of giggles following suit. “Plus he does a bunch of other stuff too! He has, like, a gazillion side-gigs, he sometimes volunteers at an animal shelter…”

“It sounds like you may also be interested in a day off,” Janus piped up.

“It’s really not that much!” Patton awkwardly shuffled where he stood. “I...I like staying busy.”

Janus tilted their head at him. “Right.”

Patton shot them a quick smile before diving back into the end of their paperwork. Then the three of them, along with Roman, said their goodbyes and scattered to their respective offices.

Patton leaned against his office door with a wry smile. They all seemed like nice people, he thought. He was lucky to have them.

(Roman’s words from weeks ago echoed in his head; the same words that were said to him the night of his first breakdown, when they first called.

“You need all the help you can get, Pat.”)

And he needed all the help he could get.

~*~

A few days later, Patton found himself leaning against the front of his desk, outstretching his hand towards the teen in front of him.

“Jonah, your feelings are valid, no matter what they are.”

The words slid off Patton’s tongue almost effortlessly. Jonah sniffled.

“I know, Pat. And– and I’ve already made a lot of friends here that have told me that. It’s been so good for me here, but…” Jonah buried their face in their hands. “Every night before I go to sleep, I can’t stop thinking about what they told me before they kicked me out. It’s like I get tunnel vision. I can see the person I have grown to be on the other side, but all I’m doing is going backwards.”

Jonah looked up at Patton with teary eyes. “And I don’t wanna go back, Patton. I...I don’t want to go back.”

Patton felt a chill run through his spine. Quiet echoes buried themselves in the back of his mind.

“I understand that it’s difficult to feel like you’re moving forward when it feels like the most important people in your life are pushing you back. And it...it sucks. I’m so sorry.” Patton swallowed down the temptation to cave as he continued. “I...I think all we can do is remember that those important forces in your life aren’t what’s given to you, but are what’s found. And I feel like you’ve done a lot of searching — for now, try and let yourself be found.”

Jonah broke into a small smile. Before Patton knew it, the teen stumbled forward into an embrace, holding Patton tight and crying. Patton’s hands hovered in the air behind their back, unsure of what to do. Eventually, Patton came to his senses and hugged them back.

“I’m thankful I found this place,” Jonah mumbled into Patton’s chest. “It’s– it’s built on a lot of hope. I don’t think I could have found it anywhere else.”

Patton’s heart shattered.

‘I wish I could give you more.’ He squeezed Jonah tighter. ‘I’d give you all I had, and you’d never know.’

Jonah left a few minutes later, thanking Patton for giving them a space to be honest. All Patton could do was nod numbly. He knew Jonah was new and it was hard to be new here, but Patton was certain that they’d find their place. The kids who came here always did.

Patton walked around his desk to sit down. He took one look at his phone, frowned, then set it aside with a sigh. For a brief moment, Patton relished sitting in the precious silence that finally found his office.

Then, a knock on his door.

“Come in!” Patton said, straightening up and folding his hands neatly on his desk. The door cracked open and Logan’s head peeked in.

“Is this a good time, Patton?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Logan stepped inside and handed some papers to Patton.

“I filed through the volunteer applications and started arranging interviews in the coming weeks. I just wanted to run the dates by you before I start contacting people. Hopefully they suffice.”

“Wow! Thank you, Lo.” Patton took the papers, slowly sifting through them. “These look really good! I’ll have a look at them tonight.”

“Tonight?” Logan echoed. “Are you staying late again?”

“Oh! Yeah, I am.” Patton shrugged. “Just a bit of extra paperwork.”

“Well if you require any assistance tonight, I can stay around–”

“No, no! That won’t be necessary.” Patton waved his hand dismissively. “Go and enjoy your night, Lo.”

Logan’s stare seemed to bury itself through Patton, enough for Patton to look away.

“...Well, please do not hesitate to let me know if you need anything else.”

As Logan was leaving, Patton felt his phone buzz. He snuck a peek and paled.

‘Missed call(s): Mother (2) - 5:34 PM’

“Um, leave the door open, Lo!” Patton suddenly blurted out. Logan turned around and tilted his head. Patton flimsily added, “I– I think I’m going to try and get some air.”

Logan nodded, lifting his hand off the door handle before walking out. Patton took a deep breath and then stuffed his phone in his pocket before leaving as well.

—

Later that evening, Patton wandered into his office in a daze. He turned the lights on and inwardly groaned at the stacks of paper awaiting him.

He dragged his feet to his desk, only stopping to check his phone. The ‘missed call’ notification lingered, except now the number was ‘3’.

Patton felt his jaw tighten. He couldn’t run forever.

As he sat down, he noticed a small cup behind one stack of paper. He grabbed it. The smell of coffee swarmed his head. He smiled, noticing a small sticky note on its side.

“Keep up the great work. Your friend, Logan.”

~*~

“Okay everyone! Grab your brushes!”

Patton blinked. Somehow, his memory of the manor floors failed him, and he ended up in the recreation room. He felt eyes stare up at him, Roman’s included.

“Ah, Patton! Man of the hour! What brings you here?”

Patton sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I, um, got lost! If you could believe it, heh.”

“ ‘Lost’ is just a way of saying ‘found, but with a few extra steps’!” Roman motioned to an empty seat. “How about you join us for a bit?”

Patton opened his mouth to protest, though felt cornered by all the expectant stares. He even spotted Jonah, who smiled and waved at him. Patton sighed. He had been wound up for days now; perhaps Roman’s theatrics was all he needed.

He finally nodded, going over to sit in front of the vacant canvas. Roman grinned at him with a warmth Patton let himself melt into.

“Alright! Let’s begin.” Roman cleared his throat. “I want you to pull on the colours of your heartstrings. Forget form, structure– even an outline. Your emotions know no bounds, after all! Just remember, your hand is not controlling the brush — it’s your heart.”

Patton felt the words wash over him. Roman, of course, was right; he didn’t even notice his hand moving as he painted. Though somehow, it didn’t feel as peaceful as Roman described it to be. Instead, it felt like something was being pulled out of Patton, as though a claw was scooping something out of his chest and spilling it onto the canvas.

Suddenly, his ringtone cut through Roman’s monologue. Patton jumped, dropping his brush. A line of paint dragged across the canvas as it fell. All eyes were on him again.

“Um, excuse me! I– I’m just going to take this.” Patton pressed answer without looking at who called as he stumbled out of the room.

“Hello?”

“I see you’ve finally answered.”

Patton’s heart dropped.

—

Roman was halfway through the end of his monologue when, in the corner of his eye, he spotted Patton re-enter the room, head ducked.

“Ah! I’m glad you’re back!”

Patton nodded, but in the stilted way Roman quickly recognized. His eyes looked Patton up and down, barely listening to Patton’s stammering apology for interrupting. His hair was disheveled, which meant he ran his hand through it far too many times. His eyes were red, his jaw was tight–

He was crying.

“Anyway, I’m sorry again for leaving so soon!” Patton’s voice brought Roman back to reality. “Keep painting you guys! I gotta Van-Gogh!”

A shaky laugh followed Patton out. Roman frowned, but he nodded for everyone to continue. He passed by Patton’s canvas and snuck a peek.

It was rather abstract, with overlapping strokes forming a gradient. Roman’s gaze followed the gradient downwards. The canvas was filled with dull blues that turned into darkening greys. Towards the bottom was a thin line of black trailed all the way to Patton’s paintbrush, abandoned on the floor.

~*~

The sun sets on a long railroad, it goes past the horizon, it outstretches a hand like it’s beckoning, it’s begging you to run, run faster, everything is going faster and they just told you to go so you have to–

“Pat?”

Patton shot up in his seat with a yelp. He blinked quickly, vision focusing on the silhouette of–

“Virgil!” A strangled laugh escaped his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in!”

Virgil replied simultaneously, “No, I’m sorry, you just weren’t answering and I got worried, but I didn’t realize you were sleeping–”

“Sleeping?” Patton looked down at the time. 5 PM.

“Oh sh– shoot, I’m gonna be late.”

“Late for?”

“Animal shelter,” Patton mumbled, stumbling out of his chair and grabbing his bag. “I forgot that I said I’d come in today– gosh how could I forget–”

“Hey.” Virgil rested a hand on Patton’s shoulder before Patton could go spiralling out the door. “Deep breath. I’ll drive you, it’ll be okay.”

Patton opened his mouth to protest, but remembered the time. He sighed and motioned wordlessly at the door. Virgil nodded, leading the two of them out towards the parking lot.

“Anyway, I’m sorry if it’s a bad time, I was just hoping to run some website revisions by you,” Virgil said as he started the car and backed out of the lot. Patton shakily smiled.

“No! It’s not a bad time at all, you can tell me about your ideas as you drive!”

“There’s not much. I was just thinking of ways to maybe make it more approachable. There’s not even really an ‘about us’ page or anything about you–”

“Why would there need to be anything about me?”

Virgil looked at him, almost confused. “It’s an amazing organization, Pat. Your name should be up there, especially as the founder…?”

“Oh! R-Right.” Patton let out a sharp laugh. “I guess I never thought about it before.”

“I could put something together tonight, I was just thinking it'd be cool to hear you talk about it.” Virgil turned at an intersection. The sign of the animal shelter soon came into view.

“I guess that’d be a good idea!” Patton shrugged. “But there’s, um, not really anything interesting to know.”

Virgil frowned, falling quiet as he parked the car. When they stopped moving, Virgil turned to face him.

“Say, would it be okay if I joined you?” Virgil shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “I, um, have a bit of a free night, and I was thinking that maybe I could just ask you stuff for the website now so I don’t have to bother you later…?”

Patton’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that sounds perfect! Liz will probably be okay with it. I think it’s bath night for the dogs, and we can always use an extra hand with that!”

Virgil chuckled, following Patton out the car and into the animal shelter.

Patton gathered the energy he had left to greet Liz and everyone else, already cooing over the various animals he and Virgil passed by. They reached the back and, with only a bit of struggle (Patton would never admit to these cute dogs being a struggle), took each dog a bath. All the while, Virgil asked Patton questions about the Rainbow Manor and his life in general, which Patton did his best to answer.

“I ended up founding the Rainbow Manor a year after I graduated.” Patton wiped his brow as they finished drying the last dog. “I had been living on Roman’s couch for so long after being kicked out and I just wanted to turn it around; not only for myself, but for other people.”

Virgil’s stare softened. “I– I’m sorry. N-Not about how you founded the place but, like...why you felt like you needed to. That must’ve been hard.”

“Yeah.” Patton forced a shrug. “It is what it is. Sometimes, you have to get lost to be found, right?”

“Right.” Virgil looked up at Patton. “Do...do you still keep in touch with them? Your parents, I mean.”

Patton felt his heart squeeze.

“It’s been so long,” he finally said. “I doubt they’d want to talk to me.”

—

Virgil offered to drive Patton back, but Patton insisted on taking a cab home. Virgil reluctantly conceded, but promised to email Patton when he drafted the additions to the website. Patton just nodded and watched Virgil drive off.

When he was sure that Virgil was completely gone, he shakily pulled out his phone and called a cab.

“Hi! I– I just need to go to The Rainbow Manor,” he said to the driver as he climbed into the car. He found himself laughing. “Long work day. It is what it is.”

~*~

Days passed, and Patton’s workload somehow doubled: new admissions, new initiatives, new everything.

(And his mother kept calling. And calling. And calling.)

To say it was a lot was an understatement.

Patton found himself going back and forth along the manor halls, forcing a smile at those he passed. He closed his eyes, turning a corner before he knocked into someone.

“Crap! I– I’m so sorry.” Patton quickly scrambled to gather the papers that had fallen onto the floor.

“Oh, don’t apologize, I always thought that important documentation would make for good confetti– ah, hello, Patton.”

Patton looked up. Janus appeared above him, outstretching their hand to help Patton up. Patton took it, scooping the papers up as he went.

“Janus! Hi! Well, if you’re looking for me...here I am!” He laughed, though it sounded scratchier than expected. “Everything okay?”

“More than, thank you. I just wanted to follow up about my schedule for the new admissions? You mentioned yesterday that I should come to you but I couldn’t find you…”

Patton winced. His chest tightened.

“F– I forgot, goodness how am I always–”

“It’s quite alright, Patton, I can always–”

“I–It’s not okay!”

In the corner of his eye, Jonah passed by. He felt their wide eyes on him. The air grew thinner.

“It’s– gah, it’s never fucking–”

“Oookay. We’re not okay and that’s...okay.”

Janus suddenly took Patton’s arm and led him to their office. They swiftly kicked the door shut with their foot as they let Patton settle on the couch.

“Breathe for me,” Janus said slowly, pulling up a chair and sitting across from Patton. They took Patton’s hand and motioned for him to follow their lead. “In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8…”

They repeated this a few more times until Patton let go of his head and his breathing evened out.

“I– I’m so sorry, Janus. I don’t know what–”

“It’s fine, Patton. I’m glad I could help.” A pause. Janus leaned back in their chair. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“No, everything’s fine.”

Janus raised a brow.

“Okay, everything’s not fine. But...but it will be fine. I have to be fine.” His mind drifted to Jonah. Patton buried his face in his hands.

“I can’t be like this,” he said, tears threatening to fall. “I...I just can’t. Not now, this– this can’t be happening now.”

“Unfortunately, these things tend to find us — not the other way around.” Janus squeezed Patton’s hand in a sudden moment of softness. “I...I know what this is, Patton. And I don’t have to tell you what to do because I know you know. You help so many people like you, but remember: when the plane is falling, you have to put on your oxygen mask before you help someone else.”

Patton locked eyes with Janus for a split second, opening his mouth to respond when he felt his phone ringing. Reflexively, he pulled it out in front of his lap. The air disappeared once more.

‘Incoming call: Mother’

Patton quickly pressed ‘decline’. He then looked up at Janus, whose eyes darted upwards as well.

Shit.

“I– I have to go.”

“Wait, Patton–”

“Thank you for everything, Janus,” Patton mumbled, and before Janus could reply, Patton sped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

~*~

“I just don’t get it,” Roman muttered, leg bouncing under the table in the break room. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“You haven’t?” Janus circled the table like a hawk.

“What makes you think I have?”

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that he has about a thousand jobs! Or perhaps it’s that he’s been staying overnight every night to work as if he owns the place — oh wait! He does! But I have no idea why that might be stressful at all!”

Roman glowered at them, but said nothing.

“I can imagine that his workload presumably doubled this past month,” Logan, sitting across from Roman beside Virgil, adjusted his glasses. “Between the new admissions, growth in our volunteer admissions…”

“Okay, so he has a lot on his plate!” Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I’ve seen him stressed out about these sorts of things. This is different.”

“So what else could be on his mind?” Virgil piped up.

Janus suddenly stopped in their tracks.

“His mother.”

Roman’s heart dropped. “His– his what?”

“She called him while Patton was in my office,” Janus murmured. “He left straight after.”

Virgil frowned. “Why would he...”

Roman felt as if he had burst into flames. The pieces clicked together in his head.

“The– the fucking nerve of that woman, I can’t believe she’s still–”

“Roman, what are you talking about?” Logan cut in.

Before Roman could respond, he felt a buzz in his pocket. He immediately pulled out his phone. His breathing hitched.

‘Help.’

“It’s Patton,” he blurted out, stumbling out his chair and making his way out of the room. Everyone exchanged looks, but quickly followed suit.

Roman weaved his ways through the halls until he neared Patton’s office. Loud sobs were muffled behind the door. Roman felt his heart breaking already as he opened it.

And there was Patton, on the floor, crying, and surrounded by shards of broken porcelain. Roman recognized it as a vase he had painted for him years ago. He winced seeing small drops of blood surrounding the pieces. His eyes quickly scanned the room as Logan immediately tended to Patton.

“What happened, Patton?” Logan murmured as Patton curled up closer to him, sobs still wracking his body.

“I– I’m so sorry.” Each word sounded like it was forced out of his lungs and into the air. “I– I tried to clean up, I’m sorry–”

“Shh, Patton. It’s okay.” Janus knelt down beside him, carefully lifting Patton’s wrist to examine his hand. A long cut ran across his palm. Janus looked up at Roman and Virgil.

“There’s a first-aid kit in my office, as well as a broom and dustpan. Can one of you grab it?”

Virgil nodded wordlessly, exiting the room. Roman noticed Patton’s phone beside Patton on the ground, and reached over to pick it up.

“What did she say, Pat,” Roman asked, fear edging the quiet of his voice. The words seemed to stab at Patton and let out more sobs.

“She– she found out about everything,” Patton wheezed through tears. “The– the Rainbow Manor, where I am– she wants to take it all– she can’t take it all–”

“Patton, I need you to follow my breathing, okay?” Janus interrupted, motioning at their chest with their hand as they inhaled and exhaled. “Can you see my hand? I want you to try and follow along, okay?

Patton numbly nodded, trying to breathe through hiccups and sobs. Janus repeated the exercise with Patton for at least fifteen minutes, with Virgil returning halfway and Logan moving to sit in front of Patton to start tending to the cut. Virgil carefully swept around Roman, Janus, Logan, and Patton on the floor.

“Whatever she told you, it isn’t true,” Roman said after Patton’s breath had evened out. “She can’t touch you here, not with us around.”

“I– I know,” Patton sniffled. Logan finished bandaging Patton’s hand and offered him a tissue from the box on his desk. “She said so many awful things, but– but the scariest part is that she didn’t stop at just saying things.”

“What do you mean?” Logan murmured.

“She...she threatened to shut the Rainbow Manor down.”

“What?!” Roman shot up from the floor. “But– but she can’t–”

“You know my mom, Roman,” Patton whimpered. “She has connections all over the city. If she wanted to, she would find a way.”

“So why hasn’t she?” Janus asked quietly. A beat of silence. Patton brought his knees closer to his chest and buried his face between them.

“She– she wants a percentage of the donations,” Patton finally admitted.

“What the fuck,” Virgil growled, stopping in his tracks.

“I know! It’s– it’s impossible, I–” Another sob. Logan and Janus moved closer to him, with Janus putting their arm around his shoulder.

“What did you tell her?” Janus pressed on.

“I– I told her no! Even if I wanted to, I can’t, but– but what else can I do?” Patton looked at his bandaged hand and grimaced. “And of course she got mad, and I freaked out, and I knocked over the vase– god, Roman, I’m sorry about the vase–”

“The vase is replaceable,” is all Roman said. “You aren’t.”

Patton just nodded, looking up at the four of them in his office with teary eyes.

“What am I going to do?”

Everyone exchanged looks. Roman lowered himself back to the floor beside Patton and wrapped him in a warm hug.

“You’re not going to do anything,” Roman said firmly.

“Roman…”

“All your life, you’ve taken care of people like they were your family, Patton. Please, let your family take care of you.”

Patton sniffled, looking around him. Virgil, Logan, and Janus nodded with small smiles, moving closer to him and joining the embrace.

And Patton just nodded, dissolving into tears; except this time, Roman could feel the relief from them. He felt Patton melt in his touch and smiled to himself, a similar relief washing over him as well.

(And for a moment, just a brief moment, Patton was home.)

~*~

One week later…

“Keep your eyes closed…”

“Roman, I don’t know how many more walls I can keep bumping into!”

“Just a little longer, I promise!”

Patton giggled, letting himself be led by Roman through more halls. Then, Roman stopped him.

“Okay, you can open your eyes in 3...2–”

“I’m opening them now, I’m too excited!” Patton squealed, and then opened his eyes. Suddenly, a burst of colour flooded his vision.

“Surprise!” a chorus of voices exclaimed.

Patton broke into a wide smile, blinking to focus on the sight in front of him. He was standing in the recreation room, with a big banner hanging from the back wall reading, “Happy Birthday, Rainbow Manor!”. Beneath it was a table with a cake, which was surrounded by Janus, Virgil, and Logan, alongside a bunch of other teens Patton recognized. Even Jonah was there, wearing a small party hat with a confetti popper in his hands.

Patton felt tears well up in his eyes. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you remembered!”

“Of course, padré!” Roman grabbed Patton’s arm and led him around the table to stand in front of the cake. “Always normal for a family to celebrate the man who built their home!”

“Oh, Roman!” Patton leaned against his shoulder, sniffling. “It’s perfect.”

He then looked at Virgil, Logan, and Janus. “I can’t believe you guys set this all up, it must’ve taken forever!”

“Actually, it just took a day,” Logan hummed.

“And the cake doesn’t explode,” Virgil said with a small finger salute. “I checked.”

“Additionally, we understand that presents are customary at a party,” Logan continued. “So while our present is not materialistic, we do hope it suffices.”

“Oh?”

“Sir Nerds-A-Lot is trying to say that we’re pitching in to give you a few days off!” Roman declared. “We handled a few responsibilities over the weekend while you were home, and split your workload for the week ahead! Consider this the fabulous gift of time!”

“Oh you guys! You didn’t have to!”

“But we did, and we did so gladly,” Logan said with a nod.

“Also–” Janus leaned over to quietly whisper in Patton’s ear– “I took care of your mother.”

Patton frowned. “You...what? Is– is she…”

“She’s fine, but she won’t be bothering you for a long time.” Janus winked. “Let’s just say I know people too.”

Patton exhaled a breath he felt he was holding onto forever. He nodded graciously at Janus as Roman handed him a cake-cutter.

“Alright! Before you take the first slice, you gotta make a wish!” Roman motioned at the lit candles on the cake. Patton stepped forward, closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then blew them out.

Everyone cheered as Patton was surrounded by hugs and laughter. He felt Janus, Logan, Roman, and Virgil crowd around him as they started to help hand out cake to all the teens.

And in the back of his mind, his wish echoed in his head.

‘I hope to always be able to share this home with my family.’

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #DLAMP #platonic DLAMP #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #hurt/comfort #angst #thomas sanders fic #everything gets worse before it gets better :p

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