#i’ll be back to writing soon the holidays have just been insane | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aemondsbabe · 7 months

Text

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.”

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page.

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces.

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more.

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another.

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering.

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board.

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips.

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging.

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned.

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again.

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead.

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat.

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks.

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them.

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?”

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade.

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner.

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.”

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder.

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men.

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers.

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses.

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.”

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter.

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware.

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.”

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him.

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy.

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering.

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck.

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain.

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves.

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck.

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder.

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt.

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach.

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.”

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister.

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase.

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail.

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place.

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush.

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice.

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window.

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.”

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute.

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?”

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act.

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?”

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth.

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem.

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook.

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?”

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?”

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low.

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket.

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.”

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request.

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you.

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.”

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?”

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

“Do you?”

“Fine, yes.”

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables.

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes.

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone.

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together.

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles.

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?”

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing.

“You.” It comes out as a breath.

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark.

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.”

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.”

“None?”

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.”

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck.

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair.

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his.

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.”

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger.

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands.

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling.

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine.

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.”

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading.

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump.

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly.

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk.

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.”

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric.

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip.

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath.

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat.

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you.

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand.

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need.

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit.

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?”

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl.

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table.

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally.

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses.

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric,

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child.

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you.

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud.

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit.

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers.

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open.

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment.

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?”

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance.

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length.

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.”

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down.

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.”

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock.

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?”

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock.

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately.

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release.

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release.

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair.

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin.

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things.

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.”

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down.

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat.

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air.

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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enternecers · 1 year

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this post has been a long time coming but i’ve decided to extend my hiatus until i’m back from my trip. the end of the year is always crazy busy for me because of my birthday and the end of the semester at work and uni and it’s my brother’s birthday but with the world cup and our one month trip coming soon, everything has been insane and i just haven’t had the time or energy to be here. i miss writing and i miss my friends but i don’t think i should force myself to be around and i’m tired of feeling bad because i keep giving excuses but i never actually become active. so this is an official warning that i’ll be gone until january 17th and i’ll probably archive and move once i come back. in the meanwhile, i’ll be on discord if anyone wants to chat there because i really do miss y’all. i might even try to write there tbh because rping is such a big part of who i am. but honestly i just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for this year and to tell you guys to stay being amazing. every single one of you is important and kind and talented and i’m so glad i got the chance to exist in the same universe as you. even if y’all choose to unfollow me because i’ll be gone a while, i’ll totally understand and i’ll still be glad we bumped into each other. may y’all have wonderful holidays and may 2023 be a great year for all of us. i love y’all so so so much. see you in a few weeks!!

#* ･ﾟ◞ ooc post.#message me for my disc !!

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kdipshit · 1 year

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In the moment

I notice I self sabotage as soon as someone notices how good I’m doing, when I get praise. It’s like my head thinks ‘Oooo yo some trust, let’s see how much I can get away with’ and I follow suit because it’s comfortable and what I always do. I’m not sure where this stems from…. And to push through that is difficult and I get irritable, frustrated and snappy. I’m trying to work through this, and I really really want to, it’s just the emotions scare me and continue to get worse until I leave the situation. I don’t think I’ve ever just ridden it out, I’ve always escaped. But I’ll get through it, if I just keep focused on my goals, writing and well being. Well I can’t be well I don’t step up, I’ll die, maybe, I’ll end up in the hospital and I would be suicidal. Maybe I’ll be the writer I’ve always been in my head, either way I’m still a writer. I guess I should still choose the path that teaches me discipline and determination and all that shit coz If I choose the other pathway I’ll never change.

I feel like I’m going insane man. There is so much information I get, but hardly and structure or organising, maybe that’s a sign I shouldn’t have that much things juggling up there at once. I see and am so aware of all of this, but it taking all of my effort and energy. My sister said maybe I’m trying too hard. Maybe I should prioritise where my energy goes. Since I’m doing relatively fine with my mental health, I can stop making that my #1 priority and shift work up there. I just have to stick it out and ride the waves because my #1 priority is work. And the holiday I get at the end of the year.

Why is this moment not enough?

When I’m happy, there’s not a care in the world, not 1 single doubt about myself, any obstacle I face becomes easily regulated and controlled effortlessly, I have the means to fix anything, I have energy and it makes my life so much easier because I’m not connected to my thoughts in an unhealthy way. Yanno that episode on bojack horseman where he’s in his mothers childhood home and would get drunk and have flashbacks of what happened back in her day? And bojack is an absolute MESS because of his thoughts. Idk if that makes sense but it does to me, that’s how I feel.

Sick of explaining myself, yall sick of me expunging? Coz shit. I’m really over this shit like I need to make a change 555 is everywhere, here there Fuck ya okay well SHIT. there’s no more side quests if I want to continue moving forward I have to get past the boss. That’s pushing by through, who knows how long or short this will be, it’s a must. It could be really short, just do it, I feel like I’m dying stop being scared and just do it.

Work is number one. Get that fucking bag.

I’m extremely obsessive, so literally WHY NOT use that obsession and put it into the job that pays me. If I can do it with a Person I can do it with a job. Motherfucking watch me. Ok ok I like to see some enthusiasm I’m very grateful let’s meditate on this feeling 🧘🏻‍♀️

I don’t think I’m capable of letting anyone new in. So I keep my friendships and naturally they fall off or we grow apart, I only have my bestfriend who’s always there. That’s all I need, and how incredible grateful I am for that.

#blogging #mental health #new blog #actually bipolar #actually borderline #mental instability #actually bpd #original post #original writing #original words

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ladyartemesia · 3 years

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Since I'm in love with your writings and your taste in reading too. I know that your favorite is Brother's best friend or Best friend's brother, I would like for you to recommend me some of them please ❤️❤️🙏

꧁Brother’s Best Friend꧂

Clandestine by @junghelioseok is fantastic. Jeon Jungkook is the best friend of the reader’s slightly younger brother. He’s sexy and charismatic and DEFINITELY knows what he wants. The growth of his (clandestine) connection with the reader is utterly delicious. This one made me laugh and swoon.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx is basically legendary in my book. The lady in this story is not only Hoseok’s best friend’s sister—she is also his BOSS’s sister and by boss I mean mafia. This is the first installment in Ana’s amazing Rap Line Mafia Universe and it delivers on every level. Hoseok is tasked with protecting the boss’s sister after she is being threatened by sinister forces unknown and sparks fly.

Plums and Melons by @winetae is THAT FIC. The fic I just daydream about sometimes. It’s a fic about two people caught hard in eachother’s gravity. It’s so sexy and cerebral and the main characters are so hot. Jimin is just a guy trying to live his life, but whatever is brewing between him and his best friend’s sister is driving him insane. He wants to be a good guy, but she just isn’t playing fair.

Are You Sure? by @cutechim is such a swoon-worthy and touching piece of wonderful. I tell you I was MOVED. This is beautiful and emotional and EXTREMELY satisfying. Taehyung’s best friend has a sister who he has always secretly adored. When she comes to him and asks for some intimate experience, he isn’t strong enough to say no—not when she’s everything he ever wanted.

Drivers License and Detour by @gyukult is sweet and tender and just a fantastic coming of age story. The reader has been in love with her brother’s best friend, Park Jimin, for almost all of her youth... but what is going on in his head?It’s a tender story that really warms the heart. AND I am happy there is more coming. I would read about these two all day. She published the second part and oh my gosh it’s so incredibly perfect I could scream. This was just such a beautiful journey every step of the way.

Milestone by @1kook is probably one of the first brother’s best friend BTS fics I read and it is amazing. I adore it so much. Because Jungkook is your brother’s best friend he is there for every milestone in your life. But you’ve both grown up now and neither of you are kids anymore. It’s hot. Like really hot. Dialogue and set up are so sharp and fast paced I really loved every second.

Young God by @njssi is scorching hot smut with complicated feelings and warm revelations. You think it’s going somewhere and then it goes somewhere else and honestly it is so awesome the whole time. Jungkook was always your brother’s sweet little friend, but he’s returned determined to show you that he is all grown up.

Tease by @caiuscassiuss floored me. I loved it so much! I spent the whole story just squealing happily about everything. This story has it all. It’s scorching hot. It’s enemies-to-lovers. It’s Taehyung. Jungkook’s sister and Kim Taehyung do not get along AT all—so she decides to bring him to his knees by making him desperate for her. It’s a wild and completely awesome ride.

Wasabi by @ironicarmy is a classic. Hobi is a bad boy that Namjoon vehemently refuses to let near his precious baby sister. But love is too strong a force and soon Hobi and the clever object of his desire decide that some things are worth fighting for. It’s a really sweet story of facing challenges and relying on the people you love. Warm and fuzzy feelings abound, but it’s also super hot.

Forbidden by @btssmutgalore is a masterwork blueprint for this trope. Hobi is a carefree player who falls brutally for Taehyung’s sister. They two of them eventually give in to a VERY steamy series of secret encounters and feelings get very involved. This is hot, suspenseful, and emotionally satisfying. Excellent characterizations as well.

Prohibido by @personasintro is an office AU with a twist. Namjoon is not only her brother’s best friend, he is also her boss and the two of them have incredible chemistry. Watching them pretend that they’re not insanely attracted to each other is so endearing and hot. Reader is convinced her feelings are one-sided. It’s lovely and fun. Definitely a slow burn, but worth it.

Strawberry Kisses by @kimnjss is a fic that I devoured in one sitting and then re-read again immediately. Jeon Jungkook is a player who matches with a girl on a dating app and has no idea she is the sister of his revered mentor and close friend, Min Yoongi. I laughed. I cried. I GASPED OUT LOUD a bunch. It was a whole thing. This is a hybrid social media/written AU and it’s pretty much perfect.

Tempestuous by @ppersonna is so special to me because it was written at the very beginning of my friendship with Lindy. She was looking for requests and I was quick to request my favorite trope. Lindy is bae now and this fic she wrote is marvelous. You are forced to spend the weekend in the same house with your sexy arch-rival Taehyung who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend. Naturally snarky hotness ensues.

Off Limits @floralseokjin is basically a famous entry when it comes to this trope. It’s a Jin fic and Miss Jordan writes EXQUISITE Jin characterizations. There is a hint of mistaken (or unknown) identity in this one which makes it even more fun. Sparks fly between you and a devilishly charming Kim Seokjin at a party. You don’t find out until later who he really is—and why he’s off limits.

And finally I’ll recommend my own Brother’s Best Friend fic All I Want for Christmas is You featuring a charming Taehyung who falls for Jimin’s sister. Jimin basically blackmails his best friend into escorting his sister to several holiday galas. Tae and Jimin’s sister have never gotten along, but they soon discover (through multiple pranks and mishaps) that love (and desire) are out of their control.

Not Your Fairytale by @yeojaa is incredibly sweet and tender. Erin really does emotion so well and her Yoongi characterization is honestly so nuanced and brilliant. This story is about a girl who had her heart broken and instead of canceling the cake tasting she scheduled with her philandering ex-fiancé, she wrangles the tsundere best friend of her brother to pretend to be him.

Brother’s Best Friend by @bts-hyperfixation is a short and sweet moment between two people who have been fighting their attraction for each other. It is so hot and delicious I tell you. You’re in trouble and the person you call is probably the person you shouldn’t—but you aren’t the only one willing to take a risk tonight.

Off Limits by @kaddiiction will break your heart and put it back together again. This one was recommended to me by a reader and I cannot thank them enough. It is fantastic. Jimin is a player but he crosses the line when he begins a liaison with his best friend’s sister. Still there is far more to this situation—and Jimin—than meets the eye.

꧁Best Friend’s Brother꧂

Orectic by @gimmesumsuga is one of my favorite fics of all time. It is a hybrid fic where the reader is a cat hybrid and Hoseok is the brother of her best friend who comes to stay with her while her bestie is away... It is so tender yet SO HOT. I’m telling you I cannot even keep count of how many times I have read it.

Theophany by @ilikemesometaetaes was a JOURNEY. It made me so emotional. Like the story centers around art a lot, but let me tell you, this fic IS art. Jimin is just the man of my whole dreams in this piece as the brother of a former best friend with an irresistible allure. It is a coming of age story with the most beautiful twist. AND THE LOVE SCENE—oh my gosh I screamed it was so good. This story is just so so good.

Run by @neonlights92 is Jungkook’s story in the mafia universe I am COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH. You don’t have to read the whole series to understand it (BUT YOU SHOULD). This is best friend’s brother meets arranged marriage and honestly it’s fantastic. Jungkook doesn’t do love and affection and being forced into an arranged marriage with his sister’s friend who has always had a crush on him is just a blow to his freedom... or is she? GAH! This story—like all the stories in this universe—is superb.

The Magic to Happiness by @readyplayerhobi is a best friend’s brother meets teachers AU meets Hogwarts AU. Now... all of those are top tier tropes so finding them together is like winning the lottery. Hobi was once just a skinny kid who had obvious heart eyes for you (his sister’s best friend) but now he’s tall and confident and really attractive. The magic of this story is evident in every word of the sweet relationship that blooms between these two.

Problem with You by @monvante is so sweet and kind of hilarious. I giggled so much! Jungkook is your best friend’s brother and he is kind of too perfect and too handsome and he’s always around and you hate him and he hates you... Right? When you cross paths with the infuriating Jeon Jungkook at your best friend’s wedding, you discover that you may have been wrong about a great many things.

Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine by @ktheist is so so SO fabulous. I was obsessed with this (now complete) series from the very first installment. You and Tae are besties who have know each other since you were little kids, but lately Tae’s older brother Jin has been lookin mighty fine. Just how far can you push him till he breaks. And if he breaks.... what then?

This list is BY NO MEANS exhaustive. I just used it to compile some of my FAVORITES in this particular trope.

➪ IF YOU HAVE ANY OTHER BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND FICS I SHOULD CHECK OUT PLEASE COMMENT (seriously please I love this trope so much) AND I WILL ADD THEM TO THIS LIST.

➪ Newer Additions are in PINK!

➪ Newest Additions are in BLUE

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zackcollins · 3 years

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wanted || shohei ohtani

masterlist

Author’s Note: Heya, everyone! I’m back with another fic! This one was actually an anonymous request someone sent me, so I hope I did it justice for whoever sent it in. This is also my first time writing for Ohtani so I did the best I could so please be gentle. I have 3 more requests lined up to be written--one more for Ohtani and 2 for Bo Bichette. So, look out for those in the next few days! Anyways! GIF credit to youmustlovehim!

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any. But, as always, feel free to let me know if you disagree and I’ll add a warning for anything anyone feels needs one!

Word Count: 1.7k+

Title: Wanted by Hunter Hayes

Additional: The reader is gender-neutral this time! I can’t exactly remember if the request specified what gender the reader should be because my memory is awful. I also couldn’t seem to find the darn thing on my blog while I was in the process of writing this, so I just went for gender-neutral to be on the safe side. I hope that’s okay for whoever sent in the request! For whoever sent this in: I can always write a feminine or masculine fic if that’s what you actually wanted. Just let me know and I’ll get on that for you as soon as I’ve finished with my other requests, okay? Anyways! I hope all of you who read this enjoy it! As always, feedback is appreciated. I love knowing what everyone thinks of how I did.

Christmas was right around the corner and you were insanely excited for it. It had been your favourite holiday since you were a small child. Seeing all the light displays, getting to eat all of the delicious treats, spending time with family, and opening all of the presents had always appealed to you. All of it sparked an immense joy within in you that nothing had been able to match.

Nothing until you met your boyfriend, Shohei. You met him when you were on vacation to Disneyland in Anaheim. You had been stuck together on one of the rides because both of you had been in line alone. Riding with Shohei had been so much fun that you had exchanged numbers and even agreed to met each other for lunch later that day.

That had been around the first week in January. From that moment, you had struck up a friendship that turned into a romantic relationship right around the end of February, beginning of March time frame. You wouldn’t have it any other way because Shohei brought you so much happiness and joy; you loved him a lot and you were grateful to have him.

Now that your first Christmas together was approaching, you knew you had to get Shohei the perfect gift. There were a few things that you could think of—they mostly consisted of things related to baseball or Japanese trinkets so he could feel closer to home—but nothing concrete was sticking in your mind. Buying the first Christmas gift for your boyfriend was going to be an ordeal. You knew it would be worth it in the end because you loved Shohei and he loved you; he would no doubt love anything you gave him. That didn’t stop you from still wanting to get him the perfect gift. You figured the best way to accomplish that would be to do your best to ask him what he wanted without making it obvious that you were asking him what he wanted. It was a genius plan. So long as Shohei didn’t catch on to what you were doing. And you were pretty sure he wouldn’t. He had told you that around Christmas and New Years was when he started getting back into the baseball mindset. Meaning, he would most likely be too distracted to fully catch onto what you were doing. It was perfect.

With about a week and a half to go until Christmas, you approached your boyfriend. You had a plan in mind that you were going to strike up a conversation with him. You were still in Los Angeles because Shohei had asked you not to go back to your home in New York after the season had ended. You had agreed but now you were getting homesick. The purpose of this conversation was to see if he would be willing to come home with you to spend Christmas with you with your family. You thought it was about time for him to meet them anyways. You were starting realize that you felt serious about him—more serious than you’d felt about any of your past boyfriends. Your parents were also eager to meet the man you had gushed to them about for the last two months you had been in California.

“Hey, Shohei?” You had been sitting on the couch, watching what was essentially the Japanese version of Law and Order when you tried to grab his attention. Shohei looked over at you briefly but his focus went right back to the television where one of the detectives was talking to the prosecutor about the evidence she had collected on the defendant. “What would you say about coming back to New York with me? I want you to meet my parents.”

Shohei sighed, though he nodded as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “I can do that. It would be nice to see where you live since you have seen where I live.”

You hummed in satisfaction before you kissed Shohei’s cheek. Shohei smiled as he squeezed you even closer to him, running his hand comfortingly along your upper arm in the process. He looked back over at you long enough to press a soft kiss on your temple before he focused back on what was happening on the television.

“I’m glad you said yes,” you chuckled as you slid away from your boyfriend. You reached into the pocket of your pants and pulled out two pieces of paper, handing one to Shohei. “I already booked the plane tickets from LAX to Laguardia. We’re on a red eye flight two days from now.”

Shohei huffed a bemused breath, placing the plane ticket on the end table beside the couch. “What would you have done if I said no?”

“I would’ve asked one of your teammates. Maybe Max Stassi? I’m sure him or one of the other guys would’ve been willing to spend Christmas with me in New York City. Rockefeller Square is a big thing after all.”

Shohei looked away from the television and over at you. He had a look in his eyes that you could only describe as something halfway between jealousy and anger. The longer he looked at you, the more intense the look became. You swallowed thickly after a few moments and started to fidget under the intense scrutiny of the gaze.

“Why would you ask my teammates?” Shohei asked. His voice sounded eerily calm but his face, still staring at you with that intense look, gave away that he was unimpressed with you. “They are not dating you. I am. It is my job to spend Christmas with you.”

You nodded, swallowing again. “Yuh—yes. You’re right. I just thought you might say no because you’d want to go home to Japan to be with your family. So, I’d just want someone with me. I already told my family I’d be bringing someone; I also told them it might not be my boyfriend because he might be heading back to Japan to visit his own family.”

Shohei’s expression softened and he grabbed your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles. “I am sorry for overreacting.” He sighed before he brought your hand up and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. When he dropped it, he looked longingly into your eyes as he continued to speak. “Maybe I am a little homesick and wish to visit my own family. It is just so far away that I think the better option would be to visit your family instead.”

You leaned forward and wrapped Shohei in a hug, patting him on the back a couple of times in hopes that that would calm his nerves. Shohei relaxed into your embrace, dropping his head against your shoulder. He placed a couple of kisses against your shoulder blade before you pulled back and looked at him. You motioned to the plane ticket he placed on the coffee table.

“Why don’t you look at the ticket again.” You smiled awkwardly as you folded your hands in your lap and started fidgeting with your thumbs.

Shohei raised a questioning eyebrow but leaned forward and scooped the ticket off of the table. He examined it for a moment before you saw his facial expression shift from neutral to shock. He dropped the ticket in his lap as he leaned forward and wrapped you in a tight hug. He dropped his head in the crook of your neck, sniffling a few times as you could tell that he was trying to hold back some tears. You took one of your hands and carded your fingers gently through his hair, stopping briefly to scrape your fingernails against his scalp. Shohei hummed against your skin, his warm breath sending a chill down your back.

After a few moments of silence, filled only with the occasional sniffle from Shohei, he pulled back from your embrace and looked up at you. His eyes were slightly wet, though his cheeks were dry; that told you that he had managed to fight off the tears. You took your thumbs and wiped away the tears that had accumulated, smiling softly when Shohei leaned into the touch. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing some hair behind his ear before you grabbed his hand and started running your thumb along the pulse point on his wrist. You smiled again when you felt him shiver at the action, leaning once again into your touch.

“The ticket is for a red eye from LAX to a Japanese airport.” Shohei finally spoke after what felt like an eternity of silence. You nodded, bringing his hand up and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. When you dropped his hand, he smiled weakly at you. “Do your parents know you are not coming home?”

You nodded again, running your thumb along Shohei’s wrist. “We’re going to celebrate with them when we get back Stateside. The return flight is from the Japanese airport to Laguardia.”

Shohei placed his free hand on your knee and rubbed it a couple of times. You looked down at his hand and then back up at him. He was smiling weakly and his eyes were fonder than you had ever seen them. You brought his hand up and kissed his knuckles again, revelling in the fact that you felt him shiver again. When you dropped his hand, you ran your thumb along his knuckles a couple of times. Shohei smiled more confidently at you as he ran his thumb a long your knee.

“You know?” He looked at you with caring eyes. “I can honestly say that you are the best early Christmas present I have ever received. I love you.”

You smiled as you returned Shohei’s caring look, bringing his wrist up and pressing a kiss to his pulse point. He shivered a little which made you smile weakly. You reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of his face. Shohei grabbed your hand and directed it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. You smiled a little brighter, running your thumb along his knuckles again.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Shohei’s lips which he reciprocated. You kissed for a moment before you pulled back and looked him in the eyes again, the same caring expression on both of your faces.

Then, with a fond smile on your face, you replied to your boyfriend’s question in the only way you knew how.

“I love you too because you’re the best thing I’ve ever received full stop.”

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ketamineharry · 3 years

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I Love Me - Harry Lewis

Requested - Yes ~ can I request an ethan/Harry one where the reader is curvy (bigger boobs/bum/hips etc) compared to Talia + Freya and the other girlfriends and they are on holiday with everyone and the reader feels a bit insecure and scared of what everyone will think when they look at photos, have photo shoots and insta comments, love you and your writing!! 🤍

Trigger Warnings: Body image issues, self-confidence issues

Authors Note: This was originally requested as a holiday, but I changed it slightly as my most recent imagine was a holiday themed one. I hope you don’t mind!

As you entered the restaurant, an uneasy feeling took over you. Usually, being seen out in public with your friends, and your boyfriend Harry wouldn’t phase you — but over lockdown, you had put on a few pounds. Expressing your emotions in a healthy way, had never been your forte so when the lockdown restrictions hit, instead of going to the local pub to drink your sorrows away, with a group of friends you had turned to eating. Comfort eating had become the norm whenever you felt sad, lonely, happy, or to put it more accurately whenever you felt anything.

While you had been piling on the pounds, Talia and Freya, had been keeping to a strict fitness regime. So naturally, they looked incredible. While you just felt deflated. To make matters worse, this was a Sidemen dinner, meaning that not only were there going to be pictures, but eyes were going to be firmly on your table.

Instinctively, as you walked you grabbed for Harry’s hand. Thankfully, he was slightly in front of you, so you could hide yourself behind his broad frame. As soon as your fingers entwined, you found a sense of serenity; despite how short lived that may have been.

As the others crowded around the table, trying to figure out seating arrangements, you focussed your energy in trying to remain calm. All you wanted was to have a seat on the outskirts, so that you wouldn’t have to participate in the group Instagram photos. The self-loathing from the way you looked in this moment was enough to fuel your insecurities for a good few months, you certainly didn’t need the constant reminder on Instagram too.

Luckily, you managed to secure the seat you wanted. Josh, being the father of the group dictated where everyone else was going to sit. Usually, there was a rule of thumb that you sat in couples; but you had ended up sitting in between JJ and Freya. Harry was on the opposite side of the table, his phone in one hand, completely engrossed in an app, knowing him it was most likely Twitter. However, in this seating arrangement you felt sick. Your one lifeline, although not ridiculously far from you, had been cut off. You were going to have to brave this one out.

The waiter approached the table and introduced themselves. He had a cheery disposition until they made eye contact with you, their fake customer service smile fading as he served you his best judgemental glare. It lasted a split second, but you knew what it meant. The feeling of being out of your depth was confirmed in that look, it wasn’t just you that felt it, it was felt by those looking in on this dynamic of people. Why would they want to associate themselves with you?

“And for the lady?” He asked, glancing over at you again. His demeanour changed once more. You remained silent for a moment, mulling over whether to ask for what you actually wanted or order something that you didn’t want to avoid more disapproving glares.

“May I suggest the chicken caesar salad.” He adds, knocking you out of your stream of consciousness.

“That would be lovely thank you.” You respond. The last thing that you wanted was to cause a scene. In fact, the thing you wanted most was to be ignored, unseen. It was blatantly obvious what everyone was thinking, where their stares ended up… all on you.

The plates of food started to arrive, being placed before everyone. You looked around, envious. Their food all looked insanely good, Talia had mac and cheese while Freya had a vegetarian lasagne. To say that you were covetous, as you chowed down on some lettuce, was an understatement. Just some flavour would have been nice.

The same waiter came back to see if anyone wanted any desserts, Harry ordered a chocolate cake with some whipped cream and Freya ordered a cheesecake, Ethan wanted a coffee, the others weren’t really bothered though. What was made apparent, was that you weren’t even asked by the waiter.

Freya turned to you, a sympathetic look on her face. “Are you ok?” She asked, as she placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled unconvincingly, certain that Freya could pick up on how you were feeling. She had been sitting next to you the entire time after all.

“Let’s go to the ladies yeah? I’ll just text Josh to let him know what’s going on.” She said, as she retrieved her phone from her bag. She quickly sent the text before she grabbed your hand and directed you to the bathroom.

Freya held the door open for you, as you both walked inside, she went over to the sinks and climbed up on top of them. Crossing her arms. Inspecting you slightly.

“So, spill… what’s wrong with ya?” She questioned, with a small reassuring smile.

You took a deep breath in and out, as you tried to steady yourself. As much as you loved Freya, talking about your feelings to anyone was a challenge that you faced daily. It was hard enough being open with Harry about your feelings, and he was the person that you trusted most. Never mind one of your closest friends.

“I hate the way I look.” You confessed, as you subconsciously started to tug at the dress you were wearing. It all of a sudden felt too tight, too claustrophobic, as if the material had shrunk from the time it took you to walk from your table into the bathroom.

“You and Talia, you are both gorgeous and slim. I’m not that way at all. You can wear whatever you want and look good. If I so much as looked at a belly top, people would be disgusted.”

Freya remained silent, letting you ramble on about how much you hated your body and what you looked like. How out of place you felt and what you wish you could change about yourself. When you were finally finished, she jumped down off of the counter and engulfed you in a hug.

“Don’t you ever, ever feel like you aren’t good enough. You are the funniest person I have ever met. You make me belly laugh every single day. You spread so much positivity, and you make sure that everyone around you feels loved. I am slim, but do you know what… I’d kill for a rack like yours.” She whispered, as she comforted you.

“As for that asshole waiter who has been making you feel like shit all night, don’t think that no-one else has noticed it, because they have. They’re all too polite to embarrass him in public, but trust me, he’ll get his comeuppance. Now, wipe those tears and let’s go show him what a fucking bad ass bitch you are.” She laughed, as she grabbed your hand once again, as she led you back out to the table.

The bill was laid out on the table, the seven cards were placed on top of it as you rejoined the group.

“Here she is.” Harry beamed, as he reached out for you. You went and gave him a hug, before taking your seat again.

As the waiter collected the bill, Harry called him over. “I’d like to give you a cash tip, can you follow me outside so I can draw the cash out?” He asked. The waiter nodded, a gleam in his eye. Harry gave you a gesture, letting you know to follow him.

Once you were outside, how cold it was finally hit you. It made you recoil into yourself.

“Yeah, the tip I wanted to give you was to never, and I mean never try to ridicule my girlfriend about anything.” Harry said, swiftly connecting his right fist to the waiters cheek.

“Run.” He shouted, as he grabbed your hand, your feet pounding on the floor until you reached the car. You were both panting, leaning on each other for support.

“You do know you’re still a ten out of ten to me. No matter what.” Harry smiled, as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. “Now let’s go and get a McDonalds, because I know you’re still hungry and it’s your favourite.”

#harry lewis #sidemen #w2s #sidemen x reader #harry lewis x reader #harry lewis imagine #w2s imagine #w2s x reader #wroetoshaw #sidemen imagine

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evermoreholland · 3 years

Text

in harmony | tom holland

-> singer!reader x tom holland

-> summary: after a nasty break up, you go to london with your two best friends in hope to find inspiration for your upcoming album and a london boy soon became your muse.

-> word count: 5.7k

-> a/n: wow. this is probably my favorite fic of mine. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do. big thank you to @rainbowrobin for hyping this fic up and being its biggest fan. also thank you to @cali-holland for beta reading this for me! your support means the world to me and you inspire me every day to keep writing. love you to bits <3

~~~

Breaking up with someone you used to care about was never easy. In fact, grieving and eventually getting over that person was the hardest thing to do. You were a singer so relationships that went public usually ended up terribly wrong. The good part about it is that you can write a hit song about the experience.

Breaking up with your past boyfriend was probably the worst experience for you thus far. You thought that he was the one, every move you made was for him and you ended up depending on him constantly. And he broke your heart. He played you like a fiddle and played with the strings of your heart. He cheated on you with someone you were insecure about the duration of your relationship with him, which made everything feel worse.

You decided that you needed a change of scenery in hopes to clear your head. You had been spending time in your Los Angeles apartment moping around, trying to get over your ex-boyfriend. You also had a deadline for your new album and you haven’t even started. Your album was due towards the end of the summer, and it was now spring.

You sat down on your sofa with a pen and notebook in your hand. You were determined to write something. You didn’t want to write songs about your breakup, but that was all you were thinking about. You saw your phone on the coffee table light up and buzz. It was your manager and agent, Cassandra. You picked up the phone nervously, knowing that she was going to ask about your progress or lack thereof.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hello, Y/N,” Cassandra greeted sweetly. “How’s the album coming along? We need to start recording soon.”

“Funny you ask.” You always tried to make fun out of an uncomfortable situation.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Cass! I have no idea what I should be writing about for this album.” It’s not like you didn’t want to write. You did, but you had no idea what to write about.

“Maybe you need a change of scenery, dear. You haven’t been out in months,” Cassandra suggested.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Where would you want to go? You can stay there for the rest of the spring and the beginning of the summer.”

You thought about it for a moment. You definitely wanted to leave the country. “How does London sound, Cass?”

“Sounds nice. I’ll book you, Natalie, and Sarah tickets for this weekend and I’ll rent the three of you an Airbnb for your stay,” Cassandra confirmed. Natalie was your personal assistant and your best friend. Sarah was your older sister who traveled with you everywhere and she helped you with many of your songs. She was good to bounce ideas off of. You had the perfect team.

“Perfect. Thank you.” You both said your goodbyes and hung up.

***

Tom got off the airplane and sighed in relief. He was finally home. After many months of filming on another continent, he was back in London. Tom was ready to finally sleep in his own bed and hang out with his brothers and friends once again.

Harry and Tom took an Uber back to Tom’s apartment. It was fairly late and all Tom wanted to do was sleep. In the Uber, Tom and Harry made light conversation.

“You want to go to the new pub by our flat this weekend? Haz and Tuwaine want to hang out,” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Tom mumbled. To be quite honest, Tom had absolutely no desire to go out at all this weekend, but he knew that his mates wanted to see him. He did want to see them too, so he agreed.

“Sounds good.”

***

You packed your suitcases for London at the last minute. In your defense, Cassandra only booked Thursday night’s tickets on Wednesday, so you didn’t have that much time in the first place. You were planning on using your time in London to relax and to create a healthy headspace to write your next album.

You called Natalie to ask her opinion on some of your outfit choices. “Nat, am I going for a casual look this trip? Like sweatpants and t-shirts?”

“Absolutely not, Y/N. Are you insane?!”

“It was just a question, Natalie.” You defended yourself. “What should I pack then?”

“I don’t know, just look hot. You need to get out of the post-breakup sweatpants phase.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. You grabbed some cute spring sundresses from your closet and threw them into your suitcase. You packed some jeans and blouses as well.

You hung up with Natalie and took a look at your bag. “Should be good.”

***

The flight to London from Los Angeles was long and exhausting. You arrived at Heathrow airport in the early afternoon on Friday. You immediately went to the house to rest up from jetlag. Once you woke up a few hours later, Sarah was pressuring you and Natalie to get dressed. “We’re going to the pub! Get up, ladies!”

“What? Why?” Natalie groaned. You and Natalie were laying on your beds in your shared room. Sarah jumped onto your bed and tackled you.

“Sarah, we’re exhausted,” you said. You pushed your sister off of you and sat up. “We can just go tomorrow.”

“It’s the pub’s grand opening! It’s supposed to be fire!”

“Fine,” you mumbled. You got up and began unpacking your suitcase. “But I refuse to wear heels.”

***

Harrison made his way to his best mate’s flat to pick him up for the Cheer Beers grand opening on Friday night. Harrison used his spare key to get into Tom’s place. “Tom,” Harrison called out. He made his way to Tom’s bedroom to make sure he was ready for the night.

“In my room!” Tom exclaimed. Tom sounded upset and agitated. Harrison entered his room anyway because he wanted to hang out with his best friend. He opened the door and noticed Tom laying his bed under the covers.

“Are you alright, mate?” Harrison asked. Harrison noticed Tom in his pajamas while in bed. “Why aren’t you ready to go? Harry already went out with Tuwaine to wait in line.”

“I want to hang out with you all, but I’m just so jetlagged, mate.”

Harrison took his phone out of his back pocket to check the time and noticed an Instagram notification from you. He opened it out of curiosity and it was a direct message. It said that you would be at Cheer Beers tonight with your friends and asked if he was going. Harrison and you had met at an award show a few months back and you became friends. “You know what I just found out, Tom?”

“What?”

“Y/N L/N is going to the grand opening tonight.”

“You’re lying just to get me out of bed!” Tom accused him. Tom didn’t want to admit it, but he fancied you. He has been following you on social media and listening to your music for a while now, so Harrison saying you were going to be at the pub caught his attention.

“I’m not.” Harrison showed Tom his phone with your direct message. “I had no idea she was in town, though.”

“No clue, either.”

“Now will you come?” Harrison asked. “I know you have a huge crush on her.”

Tom eyed him skeptically but then let out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go.”

***

You waited in line outside of Cheer Beers with Sarah and Natalie. You were wearing a black sleeveless cocktail dress with black slip-on vans. You saw a few familiar faces approach you and you realized that it’s your friend Harrison and his mates. You recognized one of his friends to be Tom Holland.

“Hey, Haz!” You greeted. He pulled you into a hug and squeezed you tightly. You pulled away and said, “Following me, I see?”

“Very funny,” he replied. “We were coming to opening night anyway. We were planning this in honor of Tom’s return from filming.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you said and then turned to Tom. You put your hand out for him to shake. “I’m Y/N.”

He shook your hand and you felt his sweaty palm touch yours. You could assume that he was either unwell or nervous. “Tom. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.”

You introduced Natalie and Sarah to Harrison and he introduced the rest of his friends to the three of you.

“Would you like to share a table with us?” Harry, Tom’s younger brother, asked you.

“I’m sure that Y/N L/N would have much better opportunities than to sit with us, Harry,” Tom interjected.

“Actually, Tom, we would love to.” You all entered the pub and grabbed a table in the back room. Harrison sat between Sarah and Tuwaine. Harry sat by Natalie. You sat between Natalie and Tom, per Natalie’s whisper in your ear to go for it. You all got your first round of drinks.

“So what brings you to London?” Tom asked.

“Needed to clear my head,” you said and then ate the olives from your martini.

“So you flew halfway across the world?” Tom was amused and you could tell. He wasn’t trying to laugh at you particularly, he just thought it was funny that you chose London of all places.

“Shut up,” you teased. “We’re here for the summer. A vacation, or holiday, if you will.”

“Nice, nice.” You could feel the slight awkward tension between the two of you. You were basically strangers so it made sense. You decided to try and break it. “How was filming for the third Spider-Man film?”

Tom’s eyes lit up at your sudden interest in his work. “Can I tell you a funny story?”

***

Three hours passed by and you decided to call it a night. You talked with Tom the entire night. You enjoyed his company but you were also jetlagged. “Tom, I’m tired,” you said as you leaned on his shoulder.

“Me too.”

“Want to walk me home?” You asked.

“Would love to.” You both got up from the booth and Tom paid for your drinks, even though you protested. Harrison, Tuwaine, Harry, Sarah, and Natalie didn’t look like they were ready to leave any time soon so you said your goodbyes to them and left with Tom.

“How far are you away from here?” Tom asked you.

“About a ten minute walk.” You began walking in the cool London air.

“So, Harrison told me that you were writing for your new album. How’s that going?”

“Not well,” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s been fucking difficult.”

“I’m sorry, love.” The pet named warmed your heart and body even more. Tom wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “I wish I can help you out somehow.”

“It’s alright. Getting out tonight helped me get into a good headspace,” you said.

“Glad to hear it.” You arrived at your Airbnb and Tom walked you to the front door. “I had a great time tonight, Y/N.”

You smiled, the first genuine smile that you’ve had in a while. “Me too, Tom.” You opened your door to enter.

“Wait.” Tom stopped you. “Let me get your number.”

“Sure.”

***

Two weeks had passed since you arrived in London and you and Tom have been texting back and forth. He had even taken you on a tour of London. He took you to all of the hot spots. Occasionally, Tom, Harrison, and Harry would come over to your Airbnb to hang out with you, Sarah, and Natalie. You were developing friendships with everyone, but you felt a bit stronger about Tom. He was charming, kind, and really funny. You enjoyed his company and you finally got the chance to start writing for your upcoming album. You realized that you didn’t want to write about your breakup with your ex, but instead write about your crush on the brown-haired London boy.

“How is the album coming along?” Cassandra asked you on the phone.

“Pretty good. I have a killer single coming your way and many other songs too.”

“Remember, we need to start recording at the end of July.”

“You got it.”

“You sound happy,” she commented. She was right. You were happy and finally completely over your ex. “It’s a good look on you.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you writing about?”

“Oh, you know… London, pubs, boys,” you trailed off.

***

Harrison was busy planning his upcoming date with your sister, Sarah. They hit it off extremely well at the opening of Cheer Beers. They got each other’s numbers and planned to go on a date. To be honest, Harrison was stressed out. He scored a date with Sarah L/N, which ultimately shocked him. So, he decided to go to his best mate for some advice.

Tom was sitting in his living room and Harrison entered with two dress shirts in hand. One of them was a white button-down and the other one navy. “Which shirt should I wear on my date with Sarah?”

“Black slacks, right?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, and a black leather jacket.”

“Go with white,” Tom suggested.

“Thanks, mate. Another question,” Harrison proposed. It felt natural for Harrison to ask Tom about his lady troubles, even though Tom had been single for a while.

Tom nodded his head to urge Harrison to continue.

“What if I fuck this up?” He asked nervously. “I really like Sarah.”

Tom got up from the couch to come closer to Harrison and put his hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, mate. Just be yourself. She’ll fancy you, I promise.”

“How are you so good at giving me advice but you can’t get a girlfriend?”

Tom mocked being bothered. “Rude,” he scoffed.

“What are you waiting for?”

“If I say the perfect girl, will you slap me?” Tom joked.

“Yes, yes I will,” Harrison laughed as he replied. “I think that you already found the perfect girl at Cheer Beers.”

“We’re still getting to know each other. Why must we move so fast?” Tom wondered. He wanted to take things slow. His life had always moved fast and he wanted something to move at his pace, for once. Too many relationships have moved too fast and he ended up hurt.

“Because she’s only here for so long and I have a feeling that she likes you,” Harrison reasoned. Tom was starting to feel the same way about you too.

“Fine. While you go on your date with Sarah tonight, I’ll see if Y/N wants to hang out.” He picked up his phone from the coffee table and texted you asking if you wanted to come over. You replied saying yes and he smiled. “We’re hanging out.”

“Great. Don’t forget to use protection,” Harrison said as he ran away to go get dressed for his date.

“Fuck off, you div!”

***

Tom went to the grocery store to pick up some snacks and beers before you came over to his flat. He tidied up the living room once he got home and made sure to fluff the pillow to make them look nicer. Even though you and Tom were only friends, he couldn’t help but make sure that everything looked perfect for you.

You arrived 30 minutes later. You wore sweatpants and a sweatshirt, along with your slides. Your hair was out of your face and Tom thought that you looked stunning. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Tom blushed. “Nice sweatshirt.” Your sweatshirt was light blue and it had butterflies on it. Tom realized that he loved that color on you.

He led you to the couch and he sat beside you. “So what did you do today?” You asked.

“I worked on a script that I’m writing and then I helped Harrison get ready for his date with your sister. What about you, love?” The pet name made your heart flutter. Tom was definitely charming.

“I worked on some songs for the album,” you answered proudly.

“Care to share?”

“Willing to share what the script’s about?” You asked back, already knowing the answer.

“I’m legally not allowed to share, so no. I’m sorry, darling.”

“Then my answer is the same.”

“Well played, pretty girl,” he flirted. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

“Avengers: Age of Ultron?”

“Yes, it’s one of my favorite Marvel movies!” You exclaimed. “I have a feeling that you knew that already.”

Tom smiled at you as he picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned on the television. “I may have, but only because Haz told me. Don’t worry, though. It’s one of my favorites too.”

Tom found the movie and before he hit play he got up from the couch. “May I offer you some popcorn before we start the movie? I have beer as well.”

“Yes to both, please.” Tom went to the kitchen to pop the popcorn and grab some beers. He came back around five minutes later with everything.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed you a bottle of beer. “I know it’s not a martini.”

“It’ll have to do,” you teased. You pat the seat beside you to urge Tom over. “Now, come sit.”

Tom pressed play and the Marvel introduction appeared on the screen. You moved closer to Tom and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, just like he did that night at the pub. “Is this ok?” He asked.

“It’s perfect.”

Around an hour into the movie, the popcorn was finished along with your first bottle of beer. Tom’s hand was still resting on your shoulder but now your head was resting on his. “Y/N?” Tom called out.

“Yeah?” You asked as you moved your head away from him so you could look at him.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” You nodded so he would continue. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked while smiling.

“Yeah.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” you said as you leaned in. He pressed his lips against yours in a soft first kiss. You kissed back almost immediately. After a couple of seconds, you pulled away from him.

“Wow,” he said.

“Ditto,” you said and then pulled him back towards you. You kissed him again and you knew that from now on, you couldn’t get enough of him.

***

Tom and you didn’t finish the movie the other night. After your many makeout sessions with him, you decided to go home, and you promised him that the two of you would get together again soon. You went home with the biggest smile on your face. Since your kiss, you and Tom have not talked about the status of your relationship. As of right now, you were just friends who have kissed before. No biggie.

It was now the 28th of May and you were sitting on a park bench having coffee with Harrison. It would be Tom’s 25th birthday in four days and the two of you were attempting to plan the perfect party for him.

“You’ll get the decorations, Sam will cook a few dishes, and I’ll provide booze,” Harrison said, listing things off. “We’ll host it at my new flat and I already called everyone.”

“Sounds great, Haz. I just hope he has a great time.”

“I’m sure he will,” he said as he winked at you, indicating something.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, referring to his wink.

“I know that something happened between the two of you last week. Tom hasn’t stopped smiling since the two of you started hanging out. I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you planned a party for him.”

“We all are planning it,” you corrected him.

“Yeah, but it’s not like he fancies me,” Harrison laughed.

You rolled your eyes at the blonde-haired boy in front of you. “Whatever.” You got up from the park bench and began walking towards his car. “Come on, Harrison. We need to go to the market.”

***

It was the 1st of June; Tom’s birthday. You woke up early to make sure that everything was ready to go for the party tonight. Harrison and Tom’s brothers planned a golf trip with Tom while you set up Harrison’s flat. You brought Sarah and Natalie along with you to help.

“Move that banner a little more to the right,” you told Sarah. She moved it as you requested. The banner said, Happy 25th birthday, Tom! in light blue glitter. “Looks great. Thanks, sis.”

You blew up balloons, set up tables for the food and drinks, got streamers and ribbons, and finally assembled the cupcake tower with the cupcakes you and Natalie baked the night before.

“Red velvet. Nice choice,” Sarah said as she took a look at the cupcakes on display.

“They’re Tom’s favorite,” you pointed out.

“Seems like you know a lot about him.”

“Well, he is my friend.”

Natalie laughed at your response to your sister’s comment. “Is that all he is?” She asked.

“For now.” You pulled out your phone from your pocket to check the time. It was the early afternoon and the party would start in a few hours. “We better get going to get ready. Sam will bring the food and set it up within the hour.”

Before you got into the car, you texted Tom to wish him a happy birthday and he responded with a heart emoji. You smiled to yourself and then got into the car to drive to your Airbnb.

The three of you washed up and got dressed for Tom’s party. You decided on wearing a light blue sundress with daisies on it. You matched it with white wedges and you did your hair to your liking. Once you were all ready you drove to Harrison’s. When you got there, Harrison, Sam, Tuwaine, and a few other friends of Tom’s were already there.

“Harry is bringing Tom in around 15 minutes,” Harrison told you.

“Ok. Everything seems to be going pretty smoothly.”

“We make a pretty great team,” Harrison said in appreciation for all of the work to make Tom’s party happen.

“Tell that to Sarah over there,” you teased him. His date with your sister went well from what she told you, but because of Harrison’s nervousness, they haven’t talked much since. “She’s been dying to hang out with you.”

“Are you just saying that so you can have Tom all to yourself when he gets here?” He tried to joke.

“No,” you said seriously. “Go talk to her, Haz.” You pushed him lightly in her direction to encourage him to go talk to her.

“I see Harry’s car pulling up!” Sam said a few minutes later. “Everyone get ready.”

Harry used Harrison’s spare key to get into his flat and once both of them entered you all yelled, “Surprise!”

“Thanks, guys!” Tom said in shock. Tom made his rounds to greet everyone to say thank you. You waited patiently in the kitchen for the birthday boy. He finally approached you after a few minutes. “Hey, love.”

“Happy birthday,” you said as you pulled him in for a hug. “You look very handsome.”

He pulled away to look at you. “Thank you, but you’re absolutely stunning.”

You leaned in to kiss his cheek and then said, “Thanks, Tom.”

“I should be thanking you,” he said and then grabbed your hands to intertwine your fingers together.

“For what?”

“Harrison told me that you helped him plan all of this, so thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you said genuinely. “You like it?”

“I love it. He looked over to the counter and saw the cupcakes. “Is that a cupcake tower?”

“A red velvet cupcake tower,” you confirmed. “I baked them.”

“You’re a goddess.” He kissed your lips for half a second and then grabbed a cupcake from one of the tiers. He unwrapped the cupcake and then took a bite. He hummed in delight.

“I’m taking that you like them,” you giggled at the man in front of you. He could seriously make anything look cute.

“They’re heaven,” he moaned. Tom dipped his finger in the frosting and swiped your nose with it. You looked at him in shock. “Aw, you look so adorable,” he said.

You laughed at his antics. “Glad you think so, babe.”

Tom’s lit up at the pet name. “Babe? Hmmm.”

“Yeah, babe.” You took some frosting from what was remaining of his cupcake and placed some on his nose to match you. “You look very cute with frosting on your nose, babe.”

Tom grabbed a napkin from the counter and cleaned the frosting off the both of you. “We’re both very cute.”

“Ok, lovebirds,” Sam called out for the two of you. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Before we go out there, I have something to ask you,” Tom said.

“And what may that be?”

“Will you go out on a date with me?” He asked nervously. You felt your heart skip a beat and you could’ve sworn that you felt Tom’s heart beating rapidly from how close you were standing to him.

“I would love to, Tom,” you said and then kissed him to confirm that you really wanted to.

***

The rest of the night went well and Tom enjoyed his time with his friends. You, Sarah, and Natalie crashed at Harrison’s place along with Tom and Harry. The party ended late and the five of you were too tired to drive home, so Harrison offered to let you all stay there.

You woke up early and made your way downstairs to heat the kettle for tea. As you were waiting, you heard footsteps, and soon enough a pair of arms wrapped around you. “Good morning, beautiful,” Tom said and then kissed your clothed shoulder.

“Morning.” You turned around so you could face him. “How did you sleep?”

“Not so well,” Tom said as he stretched out his arms. “Harrison’s a kicker.”

“Poor baby,” you teased, and then Tom pouted. “Quit pouting, Tommy. I know you’re faking it.”

“Fine,” Tom mumbled.

You turned to the stove and saw that the kettle was ready. “Want tea?”

“Please. A splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you said as you poured him a cup. “So where are we going on our first date?”

“That’s a surprise, darling.”

***

A week after Tom’s birthday, Tom texted you asking if you were available to go on your first date. You had been working on the album the entire morning so you thought it’d be nice to go out with Tom. You replied yes and he told you to be ready within the hour. Tom knocked on your door around an hour later, with a bouquet in his hand. “These are for you, love,” he said with a smile as he handed them to you.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said and then sniffed the flowers. “Come in while I put these in some water.” Tom entered your Airbnb and you searched for a vase in one of the cabinets. Once you found one, you filled it up with water and put the flowers in. “We should be good to go now.”

Tom held your hand as he led you to the car. He opened the door for you and then got in and started the car. “You ready?”

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“You’ll see in around 15 minutes, angel.” Tom grabbed your hand that was resting in your lap and brought it up to his lips to kiss it. “I don’t think I told you this, but you look ethereal.”

“You’re quite the charmer, Holland.”

“I aim to please,” he joked. “But in all seriousness, you always look gorgeous.”

Tom was by far the kindest man you have ever met in your entire life. You have known him for barely two months but he made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You had never felt this way about anyone before.

Tom drove down to a lake. “It’s one of my secret spots,” he told you.

He led you down to the grass near the water and he set up a picnic there for the two of you. “I made sandwiches, cut up some fruit, and some apple cider.”

“It looks good. Thank you, Tom.” He pulled everything out from the picnic basket and handed you one of the sandwiches.

“Anything for you.”

“So this is one of your secret spots, huh?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he mumbled as he took a bite from his sandwich.

“So you bring a lot of girls here?” You teased and you could’ve sworn that you saw Tom almost choke on his sandwich. “Is that why it's so special?”

“Very funny, love,” Tom said. “No, I actually come here alone.”

“I’m guessing because it’s quiet.”

“Yeah, I come here when I need to clear my head.”

You looked around the area and you immediately understood why Tom liked it so much. There was a beautiful, cool breeze and the birds chirping sounded like music to your ears. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I can drive you here to write songs if you’d like,” Tom offered.

“That would be lovely.”

You and Tom spent a couple of hours at the lake. You talked about anything and everything, and you finally felt yourself get closer to him. You felt him opening up to you too, which you felt good about.

“Would you like to go on a drive with me?” Tom asked once you both packed up the remainder of the picnic.

“Will there be music involved?”

“What would be a nice evening drive without music? C’mon, let’s go.” Tom led you to his car and you began your drive. The sun was setting and it was beautiful. “It’s wonderful outside, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” you said.

“I had a great time with you, Y/N.”

“Me too.”

*** Once Tom dropped you off, you began writing another song. His date left you inspired and you were starting to like him more and more. Each time you saw him your feelings for him grew. He inspired you to write your song, London Boy.

Tom wanted a second date. He felt so good leaving the first one and knew that he wanted to pursue a relationship with you. He knew that it would be hard but relationships won’t always be easy. He decided to call you the next to ask when he could see you again.

“Tom, we just went out,” you teased.

“I know, Y/N, but I like you. A lot.” You thought that it was cute how Tom was eager for a second date. You were excited too.

“I like you, too. I would love to see you again, too,” you said.

“Coffee? I don’t drink it but I know how much you like it,” Tom offered.

“How about tea? Know any good spots for a cup of tea and maybe breakfast?”

“I know just the place. See you soon, Y/N.”

***

Many amazing dates with Tom and a bunch of fun days in London later and you know that you’re ready to start recording your next album. People had their assumptions about you and Tom. Rumors had gone around but Tom and you didn’t address them.

London inspired so much of your album that you decided to record there. The rest of your team flew out and you began recording.

You called Tom asking him to come to the studio. “I’m recording one of my favorite songs today. I would love for you to come if you’re free.” You were recording London Boy today and you wanted Tom to hear it since he hadn’t before. It would also be a good way to officially tell Tom that you’re falling in love with him.

“I would love to come. Send me the address.”

“You got it. See you in 20.”

You sent Tom the address of the studio and he was there within 15 minutes. You greeted him at the front. “Hey, babe.”

He kissed you on the cheek and then asked, “Are you excited for today?”

“Very. I’m excited for you to hear the song,” you said as you led him into the studio. You introduced him to Cassandra and the rest of your team.

“Y/N, get your pretty ass in the booth,” Cassandra said. You walked into the recording booth and put on your headphones. “Let’s do this.”

“Tom, sit up in front,” you said and then he took a seat beside Cassandra. “This one is called London Boy.”

The upbeat music came on and you knew that you were skipping the intro for now so you went in with the first verse.

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey But something happened, I heard him laughing I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent They say home is where the heart is But that's not where mine lives

You heard Cassandra tell you to stop so they could play it back. You saw Tom smiling at you as you were singing and you took that as a good sign that he was enjoying it.

“Now for the chorus.”

You know I love a London boy I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet Darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you (Ooh)

You ended up finishing the recording of the song in an hour. You left the booth for your break and you first greeted Tom. “What did you think of it?”

“I love you, too,” he said. You leaned up to him and kissed him with every fiber of your being.

“That’s good because many of these songs are about you.”

“And I can’t wait to hear them all,” he said and then smiled.

“I can’t believe how I’ve only been here for three months and I already feel this way,” you said honestly. You have never fallen so fast for anyone, but it feels right with Tom. Everything feels right with him.

“Well, believe it because it’s real,” Tom confirmed. “Be mine, Y/N?”

“I thought you’d never ask, lover.”

~~~

leave feedback!

tagging: @tomsbabymomma @canwekissforever-hazzy @pinklxmonade @tomsbrina @storybookholland

#this is scheduled so i hope it shows up in the tags #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic

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thatsassyhufflepuff · 3 years

Note

Hey! Hope you're doing good. May I request a draco X fem!ravenclaw!reader where Draco asks her to be his girlfriend but she refuses because her parents wouldn't allow her to date anyone. But they sneak around and do it anyway. And when her parents find out, they are furious and start scolding her brutally, but Draco comes in and argues about how it's not that wrong to date anyone. And then he comforts her because she was crying, and it's full of fluff. Oh and no voldy AU please. Thanks💕

The Serpent & The Eagle

A/N: Hello there! Thank you so much for this request; I'm doing just fine, thank you! I hope you like this! <3 I have one more request to write and then I'll open my inbox back up, so stay tuned and have your requests ready! :) Sorry this took me so long, I’ve been working a ton! Once this is up I’ll probably post ch. 31 of Stronger Than Blood (You can start that here!) & write my final request in my inbox after that!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female reader

House: Ravenclaw

Year: 5th

Warnings: angst and lots of fluff! <3

Though she knew Draco mostly had good intentions, Y/N Y/L/N, a Ravenclaw in her 5th year, was a bit nervous when he asked her to meet him at the Astronomy Tower that night.

"Sure," she answered slowly. "But what's the occasion?"

Draco smirked. "Who says there needs to be an occasion? Don't overwork that big brain of yours, Y/N. Just be there."

That was all he said before he winked at her and strode away confidently. Y/N barely refrained from banging her head against the nearest wall. Telling a Ravenclaw not to overwork their brain was like telling the bloody Pope not to be Catholic!

"Stupid, sneaky Slytherin," Y/N mumbled to herself, which earned her a few odd glances from students who passed her in the corridor, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Just what was Draco Malfoy up to?

***

"Ready or not, here I come!" Y/N shouted as she ascended the winding staircase that led to the Astronomy Tower. When she reached the top, Draco was, as usual, smirking at her.

"No need to announce your presence, Y/N. You sounded like a pack of wild Hippogriffs stomping up the stairs."

"I was not stomping!" The Ravenclaw pouted, tossing her Y/H/C hair over her shoulder, raising her chin defiantly.

"Sure you weren't," the blonde drawled with a snicker. "You also weren't muttering something about a sneaky, slimy, irritating git on your way up." He winked. "Surely you weren't speaking of me, though."

Y/N blushed deeply, not bothering to deny it.

"Relax, would you?" he murmured into her ear as he slung an arm around her shoulders, guiding her forward.

"Relax, he says," she grumbled. "You know how much I hate surprises, Draco!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm fairly certain you'll like this one, Y/N."

She arched an eyebrow at that but kept silent as the Slytherin propelled her forward further into the Tower. Y/N let out a little gasp when she saw what was before her.

He'd set up an entire bloody candlelight dinner for them.

"Draco..." Y/N breathed. "When on Earth did you have the time to set this up?"

He smirked. "I bribed the house elves."

"Of course you did." She snorted, smiling her thanks as Draco pulled out her seat for her and pushed it in before taking a seat himself.

The two enjoyed dinner in a comfortable silence. The Ravenclaw could tell Draco was nervous about something, but she knew better than to pressure him. He'd talk eventually. And, of course, she was right.

"Y/N..." His gray eyes danced in the candlelight as he reached across the table, taking her hand between both of his. "You were right."

"I usually am," she said cheekily. "But what about this time?"

Draco was so nervous that he didn't even roll his eyes at her snark. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed hard, running a thumb across her knuckles tenderly.

"I'm absolutely mad about you, Y/N," he admitted. "I'm sure you can tell. You're bloody brilliant. But I was wondering if...if you'd be my girlfriend?"

Much to Draco's surprise, the Ravenclaw witch's eyes filled with tears.

"I can't," she whispered, pulling her hand away. Draco's eyebrows lowered.

"Why not? Do you..." he gulped. "Do you not feel the same way? I thought--"

"Oh, Draco, no!" she cried, grabbing his hand again to give it a reassuring squeeze. "I feel the exact same way. It's only..." Y/N sighed. "My parents are rather strict, and they've forbidden me to date while I attend Hogwarts. I'm to focus on my studies."

"That's bollocks," Draco scoffed, squeezing her hand back. At her glare, he sighed, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair. "Sorry. But who says they need to find out?"

Y/N frowned. "I don't like lying to them."

"It's not lying." Draco assured her, wiggling his eyebrows. "Besides, your parents aren't here, and summer holiday is months away. We'll be careful." His eyes pleaded with her. "Please, Y/N?"

She scowled at him, her cheeks flushing pink. "Ugh, fine. I can't say no to that face." With an impish grin, Y/N leaned over the table, minding the flame of the candle and kissing Draco softly.

This is absolutely insane. She thought, but soon all she could focus on was the feeling of his lips on hers.

***

In all honesty, Y/N was surprised it took her parents as long as it did to find out about her relationship with Draco. That knowledge didn't stop her heart from sinking as an owl dropped a letter into her lap one morning at breakfast about three months later.

"Who's that from?" A familiar voice asked. Y/N looked up and smiled tightly as her boyfriend plopped into a seat next to her, heedless of the stares he got as a Slytherin sitting down at the Ravenclaw table. By then, most of Hogwarts was used to their relationship, but the stares never quite ceased.

"My parents," She replied with a grimace as she tore open the letter, reading aloud:

Y/N,

We need to have a chat. After you receive this owl, you’re to report to Dumbledore’s office to access his fireplace to Floo home.

“They didn’t even sign their names?” Draco asked, reading over her shoulder. Y/N scowled, tossing aside the piece of parchment.

“They’ve never been the touchy-feely type of parents, Dray.” She said, getting to her feet. Draco placed a hand on her arm.

“You’re going now?”

She nodded. “Best just to get it over with.”

Her boyfriend stood. “I’ll go with you.”

The Ravenclaw knew that there was no talking him out of it, so she nodded but gave him a stern look. “Fine, but stay out of the room. I can handle this.”

***

Y/N wasn’t sure that she could handle this at all, but there was no way she was telling Draco that. His protectiveness would only make things worse.

He squeezed her hand as they emerged into the Y/L/N home sometime later, stepping out of the fireplace. Y/N exhaled with relief when they weren’t greeted by her parents, turning to look up at Draco.

“The library is right next to the drawing room. Please stay there until I come back for you."

The Slytherin responded by leaning down to give her a quick peck on the lips before walking towards the library. Y/N squared her shoulders before making her way into the drawing room where, as expected, her parents were there waiting for her, facing away from her, whispering to each other.

"You wanted to have a chat, so here I am." Y/N said by way of greeting. If she hadn't been so nervous, the way her parents turned around in sync would've made her laugh.

"Y/N." Her mother greeted her with a stiff nod. Her father's gaze swept her features, the disapproval coming off of him in waves.

"Lip gloss?" he snorted.

"Freshly smudged," her mother added, curling her lip. "Y/N, how many times do we have to tell you that-"

"My education comes first, I know," The Ravenclaw sighed. "But Mum, Dad, if you just met him, I think you'd really like him."

Both of her parents scoffed at that. "Y/N," her father pinched the bridge of his nose. "You've always been such a bright girl. Why are you letting the first young wizard to ever give you attention to ruin that?"

"I beg your pardon?" Angry tears stung Y/N's eyes.

"You heard your father!" Her mother cried. "Your first boyfriend and our little girl is completely unrecognizable. The smudged lip gloss, the way your robes are askew. Honestly, Y/N, are you so keen on making our family the laughingstock of the wizarding world?"

Nausea swept through Y/N at what her own mother was implying, that she was some sort of whore with loose morals! A few tears slipped down her cheeks, but before she could bring herself to speak, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Y/N tensed.

"Draco," she hissed, looking up at him. "What did I tell you?"

"All right in here?" He asked instead of answering her, looking first at the Ravenclaw witch then at her parents.

"And who might you be?" her father narrowed his eyes at Draco, taking in the hand the Slytherin had on his daughter's shoulder.

"Draco Malfoy, sir. Y/N's boyfriend." Y/N was frozen in shock as Draco slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side, gently thumbing away her tears. "And you're wrong. Both of you are."

"Excuse me?" Her mother gasped, outraged.

"You heard me," Draco drawled. "Y/N is one of the brightest, sweetest, most hard-working witches I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. You lot should be ashamed of yourselves. She didn't agree to date me at first, do you know why?" He glared at her parents. "Because despite the way you treat her, she didn't want to keep this from you. She knew you'd act like this. But no matter. As her boyfriend, I will in no way allow her to fall behind in her studies. In fact," He squeezed Y/N's shoulders. "We often help each other with our assignments. If you're done insulting my girlfriend, we'll be going now."

"Now see here-" Her father spluttered, but Draco cut him off.

"No, I don't think I will. Let's go, darling."

With that, he steered his shell-shocked girlfriend out of the drawing room and into the library, where she immediately bursted into tears. Draco drew her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her frame and rubbing her back gently.

"You're okay, my love." he whispered into her hair. "I've got you. You're okay."

"Did you hear what my mum said?" Y/N choked out. Draco kissed her temple and nodded.

"It's not true, you know." He held his girlfriend away from him in a loose embrace. "You've got one of the strongest moral compasses of anyone I've ever met, love. Though I have to admit," he gave her a teasing grin, ducking his head to rest his forehead against hers. "Dating a prick like me makes me wonder sometimes."

Y/N choked out a laugh, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Draco cupped her face in his hands, thumbs tracing her tears away. Her eyes fluttered shut as her hands came up to wrap around his wrists, keeping his hands on her face.

"I love you," she said in a wobbly voice, but her smile was radiant, and Draco's heart soared.

"And I you, my brilliant, gorgeous girlfriend." He kissed her nose, then all over her face until she was laughing. "Now let's go home, hmm?"

And so they did. Not only was their home at Hogwarts, their home was in each other. An Eagle and a Serpent who lived in harmony sounded like a myth, but it was their beautiful reality. One they intended to cherish for as long as the fates would allow.

~~~

End notes: I hope this is good, I’m not a Ravenclaw so I hope I got it right! 🙉

taglist: @rosiehufflepuff @riddleswh0r3crux @desiredmalfoy @typewriting101 @is-it-really-a-secret

(If you'd like to be added to my Draco taglist PM me! <3)

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motherjoel · 3 years

Text

hot cocoa (spencer reid x reader)

summary: spencer accidentally spills some of penelopes famous hot cocoa onto a beautiful stranger in the airport (who just so happens to be sitting next to him on the plane)

a/n: this one takes place during the holidays but its not all about xmas! also i tried to make this gender neutral and i think it is but if i missed something let me know

wc: 2.2k

warnings/includes: reader curses a lot & has flight anxiety, spencer is awkward and sweet

Spencer was rarely late- even when he had food poisoning from some bad chinese food, he made it into work with time to spare. Sure, he might have turned green at the sight of the evidence board, but he even made it to the trash can in time. His punctuality had come into question today, however, as he booked it to the boarding area. I shouldn’t have let Garcia distract me, he thought back to the holiday party at the office. Well, surprise party- they had all returned from a case sore and exhausted, but of course Penelope had baked an entire array of cookies and decorated the office to the brim. He stayed for one cup of hot cocoa, which turned into three, and before he knew it, his flight was an hour away. With his travel mug filled with cocoa in hand, he awkwardly ran through the airport to catch his flight home to Vegas.

Spencer never considered himself a coordinated person- sure, he had to have a certain level of finesse to be an FBI agent, but if he wasn’t a genius he never would have passed the physical. So when he found himself tripping over his own feet in the middle of an airport, he wasn’t as much surprised as he was perturbed. That annoyance soon shifted into pure embarrassment when he looked up to see you- the ethereal being he had just spilled Penelope’s famous hot cocoa onto. The beautiful person whose “I <3 DC” sweatshirt was now stained an unattractive shade of brown. His mind went completely blank in that moment, the apology he had wished to conjure up lying dead on his tongue. As he began to stammer in shock he stopped in his tracks- you were laughing. A noise Spencer swears could find world peace and end world hunger. A voice that finally encouraged Spencer to find his own.

“I am so sorry,” he apologized, hands frantically flying to his personal pack of tissues he kept in his bag. You continued to laugh, doubled over as you accepted the wad of tissues.

“Oh, it's okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “God, I definitely seem insane. Sorry, I’ve just been having one hell of a shitty day,” you began to explain, confusing Spencer even more. “So my boyfriend breaks up with me the morning of my flight across the country, which I’m running a bit late for,” you continued, glancing at your watch. “But I have to go home for the holidays of course so I pack my shit and head out anyway, but I forget a sweatshirt! I’m freezing cold so I buy this overpriced ugly thing,” you gestured to your now-stained sweatshirt. “Only for you to spill your…” you sniffed the mess, “hot cocoa?” you questioned, Spencer nodded frantically, “all over it. I guess that's one way of warming up,” you huffed.

“Wow, I- um, I don’t really know what to say. I’m really sorry about your day being bad. And for spilling my drink on you, of course, um,” he reached into his suitcase and pulled out his backup cardigan. “Here, take this,” he said, almost shoving the knitwear into your hands. “Please, it’s the least I can do,” he said, unintentionally flashing what Prentiss called his “puppy dog eyes.” He exhaled in relief as you grabbed the sweater from him, sliding off your stained hoodie and replacing it with his soft and coffee-scented cardigan.

“Thanks. And I’m sorry for dumping my days' trauma on you, but I really do have a flight to catch, so,” you gestured towards the boarding area (which just so happened to be his designated boarding area). You rushed off to board the plane after giving him a tight-lipped smile and a soft wave, leaving him in a dazed state. Breaking out of his trance, he grabbed his suitcase and continued his beeline towards the plane.

There was something about you that stuck with Spencer- although it may not have been your proudest moment, he was incredibly intrigued by you and the way you reacted to disaster. Spencer had seen his fair share of terrible coping mechanisms, but the way you laughed in the face of tragedy was something he admired- envied, almost. Envy wasn’t the right word for it, there were no negative connotations he associated with the way he felt about you. Perhaps it was too soon to tell.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped onto the plane, the anxiety of missing his flight finally lifted. Said anxiety was soon replaced by a new feeling that was ruled by a flutter in his chest, one that he had only experienced a few times in his life. This fluttery feeling was the result of seeing you planted in the seat directly next to the one written on his plane ticket. His breath caught in his throat as you looked up from the book in your hand, giving him a small wave. His eyes widened as he looked around, wondering if you were actually waving at him. You laughed and looked back down at your book, a soft smile rested on your lips. As Spencer got closer to his seat he could feel his heart rate picking up. You looked up from your book as he struggled slightly to lift his carryon into the overhead compartment. His cheeks heated up in embarrassment over the struggle, but he eventually managed to secure his carryon, taking a seat in 32 B.

“So we meet again,” you smiled at the disheveled man next to you.

“So we do,” Spencer smiled and grabbed his copy of Les Miserables from his backpack- he lost track of how many times he had read it, but it was an easy plane read for him.

“I’m Y/N, by the way. Sorry, I probably should’ve introduced myself earlier after telling you my life story. I just didn’t expect to be sitting next to you,” you said with amusement.

“I’m Spencer, and no problem. Hows, um, the sweater?” he asked, trying to continue the conversation. Normally he’d be a quarter through his book by now, but you were a rare something that was more interesting to him than Victor Hugo.

“It’s great! Cozier than my ‘I heart DC’ hoodie for sure,” you laughed and Spencer swore he heard angels singing.

“I’m glad, I felt really bad. Hot chocolate is actually a really difficult stain to remove because it has fat, sugar, tannins, and protein. It would take a lot of work to remove that stain, especially with the chocolate to milk ratio Penelope uses,” Spencer rambled, the embarrassment setting in the second he closed his mouth.

“Penelope?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, she's my coworker. She’s known for her hot chocolate and her cookies. Oh!” Spencer remembered the plastic bag of cookies Garcia had sent him home with. “Want one? They’re chocolate chip,” he said, grabbing the bag of cookies and holding it out to you.

“Sure,” you laughed, taking a bite of the surprisingly delicious cookie. “Oh. My. God. That is incredible! This Penelope person has a gift,” you laughed, finishing the cookie surprisingly fast.

“I’ll be sure to let her know,” Spencer smiled, taking a cookie for himself. A comfortable silence ensued as the two of you munched on your cookies, the plane almost done boarding.

“So, what brings you to Vegas?” you asked. Spencer was a little confused as to why you wanted to talk to him, but he decided not to question the anomaly.

“Oh, I’m visiting my mother for the holidays. I work at Quantico in Virginia so I don’t get to see her too often,” he shared, surprised at his willingness to be open.

“That’s nice! I’m kinda doing the same, except I am not returning to DC,” you sighed. Spencer felt his heart drop as he internally begged for you to elaborate, and as if reading his mind, you continued. “That boyfriend I mentioned earlier was kinda my only reason for moving here, and now that he's a cheating jackass- sorry, oversharing again, um, now that we broke up, I’ll probably just stay in Vegas,” you explained, opening the book in front of you and mindlessly flipping through the pages. He focused on the chipped nail polish painted on your bitten nails as you turned the pages, eyes moving to the title of the book.

“Le Petit Prince?” he asked, pointing at your book.

“Oh, yeah. I’m trying to teach myself some french so I’m reading this to get a little better,” you smiled before your eyes drifted down to the thick book in his lap. “You’re reading Les Mis?” you asked, slightly shocked at the french writing on the cover.

“Yeah, well it's my.... fourth, I think, time reading it. Well, in the original french,” he said, oblivious to his accidental brag.

“Damn, are you a genius or something?” you laughed, noticing the blank stare on Spencer’s face. “Wait. You are,” you pointed at him, your shock turning into joy.

“Well, technically, I am I guess,” he smiled awkwardly, trying not to flaunt his intelligence.

“That’s so cool! God, maybe if I was a genius I could get past the first chapter of this book,” you huffed, looking defeatedly at your book once again.

“May I ask, why are you learning French? It’s the fourth most important language behind Mandarin Chinese, Spanish and German. That’s just my opinion, of course,” he said, slightly flustered by the look on your face.

“Yeah, I guess it's not the most practical. But there's something so romantic about France, you know?” you asked and he nodded, blushing lightly. “I’ve always wanted to visit Paris, hell, maybe even live there. It’s stupid,” you laughed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“No, it’s not. It’s called the city of love for a reason,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. You were both silent for a moment before the flight attendants began their safety announcements and prepared for takeoff. Spencer noticed you stiffen as the engine started to rumble and the plane got faster. “Are you okay?” he asked as you shut your eyes tightly together.

“Yeah, yes, um. I just have really bad flight anxiety,” you confessed, eyes remaining closed. The plane lifted off the ground and you sucked in a deep breath, instinctively reaching over to grab Spencer's hand. All thoughts of germs and disease had completely left his mind at your touch- facts and logic meant nothing at this point if it meant you wouldn’t let go. “Could you just um, distract me?” you asked, peeking at him from the corner of your eye, hand still clutching his.

“Oh, yeah of course,” he said, thinking quickly for a distraction before grabbing the book from your lap and opening it to the first page. In perfect french, he began to read. “Lorsque j’avais six ans j’ai vu, une fois, une magnifique image…” he read for almost an hour before he felt your head relax on his shoulder, eyes closed. He continued to read for a bit longer before the lull of sleep pulled him under as well, your touch comforting him and providing safety.

Spencer woke a few hours later with a start to the seatbelt light beeping on. Gathering his bearings he looked to his left to see you already awake, looking at him with a smile.

“You’re cute when you sleep. Snore a bit, though,” you laughed and yawned, looking out the window. Spencer's heart rate picked up at your mussed hair and dazed expression. “Thank you for reading to me. I’m completely chill now,” you reassured him.

“Oh, no problem. Also, I’m not the only one who snores,” he quipped, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Hey, gimme a break! That was the most I’ve slept in days,” you defended.

“Believe it or not, me too,” Spencer realized, surprised that he slept more on an airplane than in his own bed. Maybe that difference was you.

“Looks like we’re almost landing,” you noticed, causing a pang in Spencer’s chest.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he acknowledged with a slight tone of disappointment.

“Hey. So this might sound crazy, but what if I gave you my number? And while you’re still in Vegas, maybe we can hang out? Sorry if this is too forward,” you cringed in embarrassment.

“No!” he started, eyes wide.

“Oh, okay. I shouldn’t have asked,” you immediately took back your statement.

“No! I mean, it's not too forward. I, uh would love to… hang out with you,” Spencer said, the words seeming unfamiliar on his tongue. The smile you gave him seemed to stop the earth for a few seconds (although Spencer knew this was scientifically impossible, something about you defied laws of science).

The plane soon landed and numbers were exchanged, and one unexpected (but lovely) goodbye hug was given, and Spencer was floating. He couldn’t wait to tell his mom.

shoot me an ask or message to be on my taglist! :)

taglist: @rigatonireid, @goldenxreid, @aworldoffandoms, @moonshinerbynight, @averyhotchner

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid/OC #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Reid

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pebblysand · 3 years

Text

[NOVEMBER '21] - THE LIFE/WRITING UPDATE NO ONE ASKED FOR (AND SOME QUICK LINKS)

oh lads. i don’t know about you but i have no idea where october went. i mean, i wrote every fucking day under the sun, then i went on holiday, then i edited 13,000 words in 27 hours almost straight, bar a 3 hour nap in between, then my mum came to stay with me, and now here we are, lol. plus the clocks have gone back gone forward i never know, and now it’s just dark, all the time, oh happy days. i think i said this in my old fic "children" once, but november is universally the shittiest month of the year, amiright?

Anyway, before diving into more life/writing updates, here are some quick links to different blog pages you might not see on mobile :

to read my fics

to read my original work

fic recs

to read my tumblr rants about stuff

[NOTE: i am currently not accepting prompts but maybe soon-ish?]

Castles (chap 10) ETA: december?

links extended a/n-s: chapter v ; chapter vi & vii ; chapter viii ; chapter ix

[more life/writing updates under the cut]

what i’m reading:

i went on holidays this month and so as planes have always been (and probably will always be the one place i read) we are back in business! i finished two books this month, and they were really good reads!

books:

i finished beautiful world, where are you? by sally rooney. as i’ve said before, i’ve been a sally rooney stan for a few years now, and i genuinely enjoyed this book, although it definitely was not my favourite. i think my issue with this book was two-fold: first, i didn’t love the letters exchanged between the two main protagonists - i felt they were a bit of a waste of space and did not really tell the reader anything new about the characters, if i’m honest and second, i felt a bit frustrated by the four-main-characters set-up, rather than two, like in normal people. i felt the same with conversations with friends so this is not news but i feel like if there’s one thing sally does, it’s character building, and i just wish she would focus on one or two people, rather than try and get confused with doing four. i also thought that strangely enough, she did a better job at having the boys be fascinating, well-rounded, flawed individuals, rather than the girls. both simon and felix felt like very interesting, complicated characters i really wanted to spend time with, and i desperately wanted this story told from their pov, rather than eileen and alice’s. i wonder if this is the only the effect of the restricted pov (obviously, the other characters whose heads you’re not in always feel more like a mystery) but i think it was something deeper than that. i felt that eileen was a bit too perfect for my taste and alice just felt like sally self-bashing. a lot of people have said that alice is a self-insert (insanely famous author of two books about “people,” known for the way she writes about sex… um, yeah, sure, why not?) but i would argue that it only is in the way that alice feels like rooney being like: here is everything i hate about myself in a single character who, by the way, has no redeeming qualities. i fucking hated alice, and i think you’re meant to hate her, and i was like, ‘honestly, sally, darling, no one is that bad.’ all of this being said, though, obviously, sally is a genius. her writing is stellar, her storytelling skills are insane and i will read her grocery list if she gives it to me. there’s that scene at the party with simon and eileen where she conveys all of the feelings in the world with almost no emotion whatsoever in text, that scene legit brought me to tears and i was like: okay, fair play, sure look, i’ll never write again, thanks very much. lastly, (and i’d be curious if this is a shared sentiment by non-irish people, @hiinnys, maybe, i’m curious what you thought) but i felt that this novel was a lot more “irish” than the previous ones. the omnipresence of the dublin rental crisis, the locations, i even noticed more irish phrases like the “do be” verb tense, which i don’t recall being used in her previous work. this might be in my head (or maybe i’m just noticing this now because i’ve been here longer) but this book really felt irish and homey to me. there was a very interesting article in gawker (ugh, i know) on this topic entitled “sally rooney is irish” and how she writes about ireland but without making it into this cliche-ed postcard set up we’re so used to. i thought it was super interesting and would highly recommend.

i also finished a book i’d downloaded on kindle ages ago but only got to now: watch her fall by erin kelly. sure look, ya girl loves a good thriller sometimes and erin kelly is such a master at telling a story from multiple povs… i’m honestly jealous. i really enjoyed this, the pacing and writing was great, and i loved the classical dancing setting. my only complaint is that the end twist, i felt, didn’t wrap around everything as well as it did in he said/she said, so i would definitely recommend reading that one first, because it’s really her masterpiece. this was definitely fab and entertaining. i was up trying to finish it until 2am the night i got back from romania, so this was 100% a banger.

fics:

i’m still reading: knowing where to look by ala_baguette and still loving it. haven’t read the latest chapter that came out last night yet, though, so please don’t spoil haha.

i’ve sort of low key been reading love in a time of a zombie apocalypse off a tiktok recommendation. i don’t know, sometimes i like to switch my brain off, okay? also, i’ve always sort of loved zombie/dystopian aus, they make me lol. it’s not the best fic i’ve ever read and i don’t know how i feel about dramione but sure look, it’s fine.

what i’m watching:

i haven’t finished downton abbey but i have gotten recently obsessed with two other shows lately. the first is maid. i’ve spoken about it on tumblr a bit but boy, if domestic violence and poverty are topics that you feel drawn to, do give it a watch. it’s beautiful, the acting is stellar, it does such as good job of showing the cycle of toxic relationships, the legal difficulties when, as she puts it “you don’t have bruises” and is so, so well written, i absolutely loved it. obviously, it is a tough watch, though.

i’ve also been watching a lot of goliath lately. i’m on season 3, which i feel is slightly weaker than the first two, but i’m honestly loving it so far. it’s got a lot of michael connolly vibes, i feel, especially in the way that it shows los angeles, and is actually very funny. the characters are great, the acting is absolutely stellar (that woman who plays the paralegal is chef’s kiss) and i’m definitely enjoying this. would highly recommend if you’re looking for a non-traditional legal show.

what i’m writing:

okay, this deserves capslocks. CASTLES IS OUT. I REPEAT. CASTLES IS OUT. thank the lord.

jokes aside, this took ages to get out, and i’m so, so glad it now is. i don’t know why but i was convinced this chapter was going to piss off a lot of people but actually, the response was overwhelmingly positive so thank you so much. i am so thankful and humbled by the fact that so many people are reading this story, it’s an actual dream and honestly, getting all your comments in throughout the last couple of days, it’s just been the absolute best feeling. i’ve tried to answer most of yous by now but i am running a bit of a backlog so please hand in there. but thank you, thank you, thank youuuu.

in terms of what happens next, i’ve said it on a couple of discords but i’m finally doing nanowrimo for the first time in my life (yaaaay!) it’s genuinely the first year, since finding out about the event some ten years ago, that i actually both have time and am in the “right” headspace to do this. so i’m trying it out by attempting to write the next 50,000 words of castles. i’m anticipating another 70k so it won’t be really “finishing” castles, but i’m hoping to make a pretty big dent in whatever’s left. this means that while i don’t think i’ll post an update before december, i’ll definitely be working. of course, if you want to send in asks or thoughts or do the word ask game again, anytime, be my guest. i’m actually sort of excited for this. i think it’s going to be tough, but loads of fun.

what i’m doing:

i went to romania and it was fucking awesome to finally go on a trip after eighteen months of pandemic shite. this being said, i am absolutely exhausted and cannot wait for a bit of dublin-based, quiet time by myself. i’m just gonna paint my nails tonight, order some indian food and then sleep lol. whatevs, i’ll start nano tomorrow.

lots of love,

pebblysand.

#november 2021 #life update

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Note

I've just finished reading your Christmas bat boys series and I love them all 🥺🥺! I don't want to be greedy but could you write morning/boxing day breakfast scene for the boys(TM)? I'd love that! If not then that's fine too. You've already provided us with quality content 👌

💕💕

So I’m from the US and we usually don’t celebrate Boxing Day. So I’ll probably do something wrong but that’s okay. That’s how Americans do holidays anyways. But I refuse to believe Alfred Pennyworth wouldn’t celebrate for one second. So I firmly believe this was the day that most of the kids and even Bruce would indulge Alfred and do what he wanted.

When they were kids it was enough to simply put the sweets down and take a proper post Christmas shower. Jason Todd had been incredibly excited to learn about Boxing Day because he thought it was a family fight day. Uh, yeah, good food and watching some boxing was nice too, he had guessed. Not a lot was certain, but sausage rolls and some kind of sports game on Boxing Day was one of them in the Wayne’s household.

Damian

You woke up to the familiar scent of Damian. But he wasn’t within arms reach. Where was he? How did you get up in his room anyways? You sat up to see him sleeping on the floor. Poor guy. It couldn’t be comfortable, could it? You tried to climb out of bed but the soft rustle of the sheets woke Damian. He sat up quickly only to relax.

“Morning,” you said.

“Good morning. How did you sleep last night?”

“Good. You didn’t have to sleep on the floor. That looks uncomfortable,” you said feeling guilty.

“It’s alright. I’ve slept in worse places,” Damian said and you were reminded of his child soldier past. You frowned. “It’s truly fine, beloved. Let’s get down to breakfast.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. You threw on one of his sweaters and went down. Alfred was in the kitchen this morning and had a platter piled high with some sort of pastry that he was bringing to the breakfast nook. You and Damian slid into the seats and you looked at the beautiful white grounds of Wayne Manor through the large viewing window.

��Would you like coffee, tea, juice, hot cocoa,” Alfred asked you both before bringing your drink. It was nice to be the first up. Alfred brought Damian curried tofu scramble and fried mushrooms and tomatoes. (You too if you are vegan/vegetarian).

Bruce came in the room and sat across from Damian. It was almost funny to see the billionaire in sleep pajamas. A large cup of coffee was placed before him and he had a steaming plate of everything Damian ate plus sausage rolls and a protein shake. It was quiet for a few minutes.

“You slept on the floor last night,” Bruce said quietly as he read the news on a tablet. He rolled his eyes at the article “Local Reporter Clark Kent gets Pictures of Superman in action.”

“Yes. All night, father. You knew that,” Damian said with a bored hint of annoyance as he ate.

“Good. If either of you needs to speak to an adult in the matter of love or relationships, I am well acquainted with several child psychologists as well as a number of medical doctors,” He said casually. You almost choked on your food before taking a large gulp of your drink.

“Father. Not at breakfast,” Damian chided. His ears had a soft redness and he pointedly looked out the window instead of at either you or Bruce. You stared at your plate.

“I think I hear Jason awake. I’d better catch him before he leaves. Excuse me,” Bruce said before leaving.

“Sorry. He’s.... awkward. He thinks he needs to teach us about sexual education. A little late,” Damian said with a laugh.

“A little late? Oh,” you said. Damian quickly looked at you.

“Not that way. We’ve just, we learned in school. Not that I’ve- I think someone’s coming in here,” Damian said grateful for the distraction.

Dick and his fiancé walked in. He had his hand around her waist and the pair seemed glued together. They sat down at the same time with a giggle. They probably hadn’t even noticed you both there.

“Are you done?” Damian asked and you nodded. You couldn’t handle watching them.

You both went upstairs to his room again. Damian awkwardly sat on the bed.

“You know,” you started. Your face felt flush. “If you did want to talk about it, I’d be here.”

“Oh. Do you mean,” he started to ask.

“Sex. Yeah. It’s fine if you don’t. Seriously. Just saying...” you trailed off. He looked at you intensely. When Damian Wayne was thinking hard on something, his face became completely imperceivable.

“Maybe. Soon?” He said hopefully. You nodded. “Wanna watch a movie? You’ve got to go home in a few hours.”

“Yeah sounds great.”

Dick

You woke up feeling like a puzzle piece. An arm was thrown across your back and legs wrapped in yours as you laid on Dick’s chest. His heartbeat was steady in your ears. You couldn’t get much closer to him if you tried. You moved to get up because the bathroom was calling your name.

“Baby,” he groaned and wrapped his other arm tightly around you. You tried to pull out while shushing him back to sleep. There was no way you could pry yourself from his grasp unless he wanted you to with his incredible grip strength. “Stay with me,” Dick begged. “Just a little more.”

“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” you protested and he finally let you go with a big pout.

When you came back, his rough fingers pulled you by your bare thighs back in bed. His dress shirt and panties weren’t exactly the warmest clothing. You landed on him with a giggle. Dick quickly wrapped you both back in the blanket.

“Good morning, fiancé,” he said softly. His fingers traced soft circles on your back.

“Fiancée,” you said back with a smile. Dick kiss you softly. Morning breath and all. He finally pulled away.

“It’s Boxing Day. Alfred’s sausage rolls. Are you hungry,” he said finally releasing you.

“Yeah. A little. Especially after last night,” you said getting up and finding some clothing.

“I know, right,” Dick said and his face was basically this emoji 😏. You rolled you eyes and slipped on his sweater and a pair of sweatpants.

Dick couldn’t keep his hands off of you. He held your hip while walking downstairs and laced his fingers in yours as you ate breakfast. His plate was piled high with the pastry and he drank a green protein shake with it. Was there anyone else in the room with you? Maybe? Who knows? Who cares?

After breakfast you both said goodbye to his family before leaving back to Bludhaven. You and Dick stayed in bed for a good portion of the afternoon and when he went on patrol, he looked at you wistfully before leaving.

Tim

Tim could sleep through a hurricane in a canoe. He missed a lot of sleep and when he finally laid on his pillows, lights out. He didn’t move. He didn’t snore. And God hisself couldn’t wake this man before at least 5 hours had passed.

And when he woke up on the day after Christmas, he was incredibly disoriented after getting 9 hours of sleep. He vaguely felt someone laying in his chest and he looked down. Oh yeah, you. He slept so hard, he forgot he had a girlfriend for 2 minutes. He would never tell you that.

“Sunshine,” he said running his fingers on your arm. “Wake up.”

You slowly stirred to look at him. You laughed instantly. His hair stuck up everywhere. Probably a side effect of having his face between your legs last night. He looked at you confused.

“You need a shower before you do anything, Timbo,” you said with a smile.

“Back at you. Wanna join me,” he asked with a eyebrow wag.

“I think I’ll pass with all your family awake. Last night was pushing it,” you said, giving him a kiss. He leaned towards your face to continue the kiss as you pulled back. His hands held your hips but released them easily when you pulled away. He had a pout on his lips but got up to shower anyways. You both got ready before going downstairs.

Alfred slid a cup of coffee in Tim’s hand before you even made it to the breakfast nook. You poured a large one for yourself after seeing the scene. Dick and his fiancé were half an inch from making out at the table. It was too early for this madness.

Tim gave you a knowing look. He certainly wasn’t the only one getting play in his childhood room last night. You rolled your eyes.

Tim grabbed a few pastries and a protein shake. It was funny the first time you learned he drank them religiously. He didn’t look the type. Dick on the other hand... But Tim was naturally thin and couldn’t hold weight on his body to save his life. A protein shake at every meal helped replace the calories he lost through work, lack of sleep, and his insanely fast metabolism.

Tim’s phone rang. No surprise there. You were honestly surprised that Tim’s phone hadn’t rung earlier or last night. He sighed and answered it. His breakfast was probably going to be interrupted. He talked for a few minutes before hanging up.

“Sunshine,” he started.

“You’re busy, Wayne Enterprise. Have to leave soon,” you guessed. He looked regretful.

“Yeah. I’ll make it up to you tonight. I’ll call you a car when you’re ready to leave. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Tim said. He quickly shoved food in his mouth and gulped down his coffee. “I’ve got to go.”

Jason

You woke up frozen. You were not under any blankets and tbh your tits were like icy. Your stomach was really warm tho. You looked down to see Jason’s head between your bare breasts and his body slotted between your legs. He clung on you like a monkey and gently snored. The blankets were on the floor. The activities of the night before had you flushing. Yeah that had been fun.

You ran your fingers through his hair to wake him gently. You didn’t want to jerk him awake but you were frozen. Jason slowly stirred and rubbed his face into your bare skin before groaning.

“Fuck it’s cold,” he grumbled, wrapping himself tighter around your body.

“Get up. I’m cold,” you said and he begrudgingly released you. He stood up and you realized that you both were completely naked. He grabbed some sweatpants and threw them on before throwing the blanket on you. You snuggled in the warm fabric. You were lulled back to sleep for a few more minutes.

You woke up alone. There was a note on the dresser.

Get dressed and come downstairs to the breakfast nook Princess- Jay

You grabbed one of his black sweaters and threw it on with your pants you wore the night before. You saw Bruce slide Jason the keys and he confirmed it with you afterwards. Your mind couldn’t process that.

Jason pulled you to the breakfast nook. Dick and his new fiancé were leaving and Tim was rushing out with business. His girlfriend left shortly after. Bruce, of course, had already started working on business or whatever mysterious stuff he always did.

Jason ate every single sausage roll and the rest of the vegetables that you didn’t eat. Alfred came and sat at the table with you both. Usually not what he would do but Jason always insisted. The older man nursed a cup of coffee and you all looked out the large viewing window. You couldn’t get over how huge the place was.

“Alfred, can you tell me stories about Jason when he was a kid?” You asked and Alfred smiled.

“I have many of Master Jason’s childhood. He was always a boisterous lad. Still is I suppose,” Alfred said taking a sip of his drink. Jason smiled. He had an arm thrown over your shoulder.

“When he was 14, Jason tried to climb the chandeliers in the front entry, as Master Richard had many times. Well, Jason was probably 20 lbs heavier than Richard even at that age. The chandelier came down with a resounding bang. Jason had broken a toe. This was the morning before a gala at the Manor. Master Bruce was far from pleased,” Alfred said. You laughed.

“The chandelier got reenforced and now Dick can swing on it to his heart content. I’ll leave the acrobats to him though,” Jason said with a laugh.

“I wish I could have seen it,” you laughed.

Alfred sat with you both for the better part of an hour, just telling funny stories about the boys and Bruce. Alfred stood up.

“I really do have work to do if I hope to catch the game this afternoon. I hope you both understand. But one last thing before you go, Master Jason. Bruce has been talking about leaving you the penthouse for years. He just needed a push to finally give it to you. I hope you both enjoy it,” Alfred said before leaving the room.

“Let’s, uh, let’s get going,” Jason said abruptly. He was feeling uncomfortable emotions. It wasn’t the first time and you indulged him without asking any questions before leaving.

Bruce

He had a pounding headache when he woke up. He was hung over. He had impeccable hearing and the noises from 3 of his 4 sons rooms (as Duke and Cass had patrolled after the party) had him finding a bottle of whiskey. Was Jason purposefully being loud? At least Damian’s room was quiet. Bruce couldn’t handle that. Of course that didn’t guarantee anything. But he was willing to put up with it so that his boys could be home. But yeah, sound proofing on their bedrooms was a priority. Jesus Jason, wtf?

Giving Jason the penthouse was not a plan. But Bruce was grateful because the Jason’s Christmas list had been “gun.”

Dick’s list was “a break.” Bruce got him a pair of jet skis. That would be a good distraction.

Tim had asked for “a day off.” Bruce gave him tickets for 2 to Hvar, Croatia in January for 2 full weeks in a snowy cabin.

Damian had asked for a certain set of Wakizashi swords. He got the swords.

Alfred asked for a pasta maker and Bruce bought him a ticket to Italy for a week to pick one up.

Also: 3 days after Christmas, Tim recieved a camouflage gun themed snack gift basket with the card reading “duck next time-Jay”

282 notes · View notes

iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Want nobody else

Request: Hi can I request a Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor reader where they’re dating in secret & Draco decided to spend the holiday at Hogwarts instead of going back to the manor because he wants to spend more time with the reader but surprise surprise Narcissa decided to drop in to his dorm just to find them cuddling in front of the fireplace or something. She’s scared of course but Narcissa turns out to be very kind & welcoming and the three of them spend the day together and even invited her to come to the Malfoy Manor anytime she’d like Thank you! - @queenofmankind

A/N: I loved this request bc I am a sucker for secret relationships, like that is my shit. I’ll not lie, these last couple of days I have been really doubting my writing ability, but nevertheless, I hope I have done your request justice. It’s really fluffy bc I love fluffy Draco so much omg. Enjoy! (Title is from Liam Payne - Midnight)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (Gryffindor)

Warnings: one swear word

Word count: 2.1k

Being pulled into a supply cupboard was not how you wanted to start your morning, but it happened, nonetheless.

You’re about to start shouting when a familiar voice whispers, “Lumos.”

The tip of his wand starts to glow with a pale light, and you’re greeted to the sight of your boyfriend smiling down at you.

“Draco! You can’t just go about pulling me into supply cupboards.”

“Why not?” He asks, crowding you against the wall. He’s so close to you that his breath fans over your face.

“What if we get caught? What if someone sees us?”

Draco shrugs, leaning in to kiss you but his lips land on your cheek when you move your head at the last minute.

“We both agreed we would keep this a secret. That means you can’t pull me into supply cupboards between classes.”

“I know, but would you believe me if I say I did it because I missed you?”

“I would, but only because I missed you too.” You reply, fisting a hand in the front of his robes to pull him in for a kiss.

He hums into the kiss, pressing you even further into the wall. Your arms wrap around his neck; one hand making its way into his hair, pulling lightly drawing a groan from his mouth. He responds by biting your bottom lip.

“The bell is going ring any minute.” You whisper against his lips.

Draco nods in acknowledgement but kisses you again and continues to do so until the aforementioned bell rings.

You pull away from him with a peck to his lips. You smooth down your robes and hair to make it look as if you haven’t been making out with the Slytherin Prince between classes.

His hand grabs yours as he tugs you in to kiss you again, “I’ve got to go,” You say, pecking his lips one more time, silently loving how he chases your lips for another, “I’ve got Divination and those stairs are killer. I’ll see you later?”

“Definitely. I’ll meet you in the astronomy tower after dinner.”

You blow him a kiss which he catches with a laugh before rushing to Divination. Professor Trelawney had a thing for making latecomers make the first prediction of the lesson.

-----

The closer it got to the holidays, the slower the school day became. In every lesson, you zoned out, finding it hard to keep your attention on the topic of the class. Instead, daydreaming of a certain blonde-haired Slytherin.

Being in a relationship with Draco was the last thing you expected to happen to you. A member of Gryffindor and raised a muggle, you didn’t think for one moment that Draco would look in your direction.

A friendship blossomed between the two of you after being assigned a paired essay in History of Magic on Gellert Grindelwald’s threat to the International Statute of Secrecy. Draco was apprehensive at first; his walls securely built around him. However, as time went on and progress on the essay was good, those walls steadily came down and he started to have feelings for you. He just didn’t know you felt the same way.

You couldn’t help but feel sad as you finished writing the final sentence of the essay. Your time with Draco was up and things were to return to how they were before.

He didn’t want that; you didn’t want that.

Whilst waiting for the ink to dry, Draco took it upon himself to confess that he didn’t want this to end. His happiest time of the week were the hours he spent with you, but he would understand if you didn’t feel the same way. Draco never got a chance to finish his sentence – you had pulled him in for a clumsy but sweet kiss. It was after you had pulled away that you both agreed to keep the relationship secret for fear of the reaction from his parents and your house.

A ball of paper hitting the back of your head breaks you from your reverie. Turning to see who threw it, you smile as you see Draco staring intensely at his textbook.

Unscrewing the wad of paper you read his recognisable scrawl: ‘What are you thinking about?’

You don’t take the time to think of a reply, simply writing: ‘You, like always.’ It’s worth it when you see the blush on his face as he reads your reply.

---------

The astronomy tower had always been a favourite of Draco’s. Somewhere he could come, think and not be disturbed. If you ever had trouble finding him through the school, your first port of call would always be the astronomy tower. In the early weeks of your relationship, it became your go-to meet up spot.

Climbing the stairs to the top of the tower was always worth it when you saw him waiting for you; the breath stolen from your lungs when his eyes landed upon you and he smiled.

Tonight was no different; the butterflies in your stomach had turned into a full-blow riot, but you knew they would settle the moment your eyes landed on Draco.

He’s already waiting; leaning against the railing, looking out across the view. The astronomy tower held the perfect vista of Black Lake and the Scottish Highlands behind it. You sometimes questioned how you went to school in such a wonderful place.

Draco turns at the sound of your footsteps, a smile already making its way across his face. He holds a hand out to you and you are quick to fold your hand into his, tangling your fingers together as you do so. He brings your joined hands up to his lips, dropping a small kiss to the back of your hand before letting them fall between the two of you.

“I liked your note, by the way.”

You laugh, “I could tell. That was some blush.”

He grins at you, savouring the sound of your laughter, “I like the fact that you always think of me.”

You hum, “I like it too, but I’m going to have to pay some attention to my work, I think it’s getting jealous.”

Draco pulls you into his side; his arm now wrapping around your shoulder. He presses not one, but two kisses into your hair before saying, “I’m staying at Hogwarts over the holidays.”

“You are?” You ask, your eyes wide, excitement starting to build.

He nods, confirming, “My parents want to go travelling for those two weeks, so I said I’d stay at Hogwarts instead.”

“They didn’t question it?”

“My mother wanted me to go with them, but my father wasn’t bothered. Besides, it means I get to stay here with you which is exactly why I told them no.”

Your body warms with those words, as if they take root in your heart.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“No!” You shout, wincing as you realise just how loud your voice is. Draco has a shit-eating grin across his face. “What I mean to say is, I don’t mind at all. I get to have you all to myself for two weeks.”

“Yes, you do.” Draco murmurs before pulling you in for a kiss; effectively ending all forms of conversation for now.

------

The first week of the holidays, it is decided quickly that you were to stay in Draco’s room since his dorm mates had all gone home for the holiday.

Waking up to Draco is a whole new experience, and you can’t help but love every minute of it. His blonde haired messed up, his voice gravelly with sleep. Your mind flashes to ten, fifteen years from now – hearing that voice whispering sweet nothings to you in the morning.

You shift in his bed, moving the covers from your body when Draco’s arm clamps itself around your waist, pinning you to the bed.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Oh?”

“Nope, you’re staying in bed with me all day.” He says, rolling on top of you, bracing himself with his elbows. He runs his nose along the expanse of your neck before placing light, butterfly kisses across your jaw – teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity.

Your legs wrap themselves around him, a hand tugging at his t-shirt as he finally presses his lips to yours.

You don’t leave the bed that day.

------

After that morning, Draco has a hard time keeping his hands off you. Pulling you into empty classrooms or rarely visited stacks in the library. You’ve had to apologise to Madame Pince more times that you’d like to admit – but seeing this side of Draco, unafraid of what people think of him, it’s addicting. You’ve cornered him in the Slytherin common room just as much.

-----

The second week of the holiday starts blissfully; you wake wrapped around Draco each morning and you can’t help but want this for the rest of your life. To be able to wake up to him for the rest of your life, you would count it as a life well lived.

Sitting on one of the many couches dotted about the Slytherin common room, you read a muggle book you brought from home. It tells the story of a huntress taken away by a faerie in payment for the death of the faerie’s sentries – the huntress soon starts to fall for her captor, and she promises to break the curse on his land. It keeps you enthralled as Draco reads the muggle classic Frankenstein after you introduced it to him some months ago.

The fire is roaring, Draco’s hand doodles aimless patterns on the top of your thigh from where your legs are thrown across his. You catch his hand every time it travels higher up your thigh; not missing the smirk on his face as you do so.

Neither of you think to look up from your respective books as the door to the common room opens. Neither of you think to look up until a delicate cough breaks your bubble.

“Mother,” Draco greets, standing up from the couch, pulling you up with him. His arm automatically going to your waist, as if it belonged there.

“Draco, who is this?” Narcissa asks, not taking her eyes off you.

Draco’s arm remains tight around your waist, “This is my girlfriend, (Y/N).”

Her next question is directed at you, “How long have you been seeing my son?”

“Almost six months now.” You answer, keeping your voice steady. This was not how you envisioned finally meeting his parents.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes, I think I do.” You answer honestly. Draco’s hand squeezing your waist tightly.

Narcissa smiles, her eyes now on Draco’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist. She smooths out an invisible crease in her dress before saying, “Then that’s all that matters.”

“You don’t care that I’m a Gryffindor?” You ask, the words flying out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I care if Draco is happy and by the looks of it, he is. Your house doesn’t matter to me. Now I came here to see my son, and I’ve met his girlfriend as well. I say we take a walk into Hogsmeade and get some lunch – how does that sound?”

“Of course, mother.” Draco states, “I’ll grab our coats.” He kisses your cheek before rushing to his dormitory.

-------

Lunch with Narcissa went brilliantly, if you could say so yourself. She declined Draco’s offer of walking back to Hogwarts with the two of you; deciding to apparate from Hogsmeade instead. She kissed your cheek before she left and extended an invitation to visit Malfoy Manor whenever you wanted – she wanted to get to know the girl who her son had fallen in love with.

Walking back to Hogwarts, yours and Draco’s hands swing between you. If this was bliss, you didn’t want to know anything else. If this was being in love, then you didn’t want to be proved wrong. All you wanted was the boy walking next to you – for the rest of your life, if possible.

“(Y/N)?” Draco asks, coming to a stop in the middle of the path.

You hum, “Yes, Draco?”

“What would you say to us going public? Not hiding anymore?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Draco speaks over you. “I’m tired of having to pretend that I don’t want you, that I don’t love you. Because I do, I love you, a lot. I don’t think we have anything to be afraid of now, my mother knows, and everything will be okay.” He wraps his arms around you, “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

You throw your arms around his neck, tugging him down for a long, unhurried kiss. His hands tighten on you whilst yours find purchase in his hair. It’s a long time before you pull away from the other; completely unaware of how many people have hurried past you.

Your hand strokes his cheek as you whisper, “I love you too. Let’s not hide anymore.”

****

Draco taglist: @cheapglitter

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy fluff #draco lucius malfoy #Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy fanfic #draco fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #the lightning era #fluff #cute #secret relationship #My writing

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

hc or ficlet of teddy proposing you amy again but this time jake decides enough is enough

(Read it on AO3)

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here.” Charles says in a deep, low voice.

“Are we not just having drinks?” Jake asks as he hands Rosa her beer and Charles his fruity rosé-tinted cocktail with a berry garnish.

“No! There are far more pressing matters at hand!”

Jake and Rosa clink their bottles together before the first sip, waiting for Charles to continue on his dramatic tangent, as he needs to do sometimes.

“Amy is going to a seminar in Staten Island next week.” He gives them both a deep stare.

“You might be surprised, bud, but I do know that.”

“Teddy is also going to that seminar.”

Jake stops mid-drink.

“I did not know that.”

“Neither does Amy.” Rosa cuts in. “Or she definitely woulda mentioned it.”

“He’s actually attended this seminar twice before, so I deduced that he’s not going for the learning material this time.” Charles leans back almost triumphantly.

“Yeah, it really doesn’t take a detective to figure that out.” Jake is trying to keep busy peeling the label off of his bottle, but Rosa can tell he’s clearly failing. There’s a furrow in his brow she’s rarely ever seen before.

“We have to stop him! He’s going to propose again, or do something romantic, or make a call-back to the seminar where they met, and Amy’s gonna get all confused-”

“My wife of four years and mother of my son is going to get confused by an unstable ex?” Jake’s voice is - bitter, Rosa thinks, is the best way to describe it, and she doesn’t think she’s ever heard that tone from him. Neither has Charles, it seems, because he backpedals immediately.

“Well, no, but- I mean- Amy is going to be upset- she’s been looking forward to that seminar and Teddy is going to ruin it!” He sputters, and Rosa can’t help but nod.

“And what do you suggest we do about that? We can’t keep Teddy from attending a work-thing, and I’m not going to stop Amy from going.”

“We can- we could kidnap Teddy just for the week, and then-”

“Kidnap a police officer.” Rosa interrupts again. “Because that’s gonna go over so well with the authorities.”

“Well then Jake can go to the seminar as well, and punch him out if he tries anything-”

“Yeah, because Holt’s totally not gonna be suspicious when Jake asks to go to a seminar that doesn’t involve some action training.” Rosa quips.

“I’m also not that big a fan of the idea of punching a man for, like, talking to my wife.” Jake grumbles, the label of his beer now completely gone, and only half-sounds convincing.

“It would be for love!” “It would be fucking creepy, is what it would be. Like I’m laying claim to some property or something in the most machismo-asshole way possible.”

“Yeah.” Rosa nods. “Amy’s a grown woman, she can tell him to fuck off herself, and she’s done it before. She doesn’t need us to bring chaos to her ‘fun’ little seminar.” She does sarcastic finger quotes around ‘fun’, but she also does know how much Amy is looking forward to this boring thing again - it’s her first time away from Mac on her own, and she’s planned her own trip just as meticulously as she’s planned for Jake’s stay with the kid, as if he has never taken care of his own child before, and kept her up to date on all of it in case she needs to jump in and help in any situation (which she won’t, but she might go over for a playdate anyway, just to see her godson).

Charles grumbles a bit more, something about ‘true love’ and ‘knights in shining armour’, but he drops the subject before their first round is finished and they can actually spend a nice evening together.

-*-

Rosa hands Jake a beer in return, once Charles has called it quits for the night because he has to go say goodnight to Nikolaj (Jake facetimed Amy and Mac instead and promised he’d be home soon, to which Amy rolled her eyes and said ‘Sure, babe. Tell Rosa to keep you out longer for some fun, please.’ the same way he had when Rosa had picked her up for a girls night two weeks ago).

“You okay?” She asks as she watches him peel the edge of the label almost immediately.

“Charles has really gotten into my head. I hate it when that happens.” He sighs as he lets go of the paper and drinks instead.

“Again: Amy’s a grown woman.”

“I know.” He’s fiddling with the label again after just one sip. “It’s just that all this Teddy-shit really does upset her. I mean, not in the ‘confused’ way like Charles said, which is bullshit.” The furrow is back for a second, Rosa notes. “But like… she just mulls it over in her head so much and it makes her feel like shit even if she won’t say it. I think the stunts he pulled at our wedding bothered her more than the whole thing actually being cancelled.”

Rosa nods as she takes her own first sip. She remembers Amy’s face when she realised Teddy was also at that stroller-contest thing she dragged her to. She remembers her face when they finally drove back to the precinct together too. She knows her friend, and if there’s anyone who knows her even better, it’s obviously Jake.

“So we gotta prevent that somehow.” She tries to continue the conversation without delving into Charles-level shenanigan-planning.

“”I just don’t want Amy’s first time off from Mac to suck because of some inconsiderate asshole. But I can’t exactly go along with her like Charles suggested, I have a kid to take care of, and also that idea is kinda insane.”

“Guess I gotta make sure it doesn’t suck, then.” Rosa finishes her beer and tries to ignore Jake’s gobsmacked stare at her. She doesn’t know when it happened, but at some point, apparently, she’s become willing to attend a boring seminar for Santiago.

-*-

Howzit goin

learn to write like an adult Peralta

also your wife will not stop talking about your kid

you love him

I do

but I don’t need updates on his bathing habits

no Teddy sightings yet but we’re also way too early because Amy. Keep you posted

Jake smiles at the text chain on his phone and makes a mental note to send her a picture of Mac in the tub later tonight, just to annoy her a bit more. Amy had handed the baby over to him at the precinct like she was going on a year-long world-cruise instead of just a five day overnight stay in another part of their own city, and Rosa had been standing behind her with her travel bag, rolling her eyes.

It had taken surprisingly little to convince both Amy and Holt that Rosa was actually interested enough in the seminar to join it at the last minute, and Amy had immediately included her in her itinerary, as well as offered to drive with her so she didn’t have to carry all her luggage on her motorcycle. Jake was going to owe her so, so many favours after all this.

The Mac-inna-tub picture only gets a grumbling emoji response, but she texts him again at around 9, when Mac is already fast asleep and he’s finally turned on Die Hard at the lowest possible volume to not wake him up again.

Teddy showed up

tried to say Hi (or worse) to Amy but I stared him away

going out for first day drinks with the group. I’ll keep him away. Maybe slip something into his drink.

why do I not question you having something to slip into drinks?

I can do more than just knives

don’t stay up all night watching all Die Hards. You gotta take Mac to daycare early tomorrow

Amy told me to tell you that

sure

and it’s only Die Hard 1 tonight

gonna spread them out over all the evenings

got one night left if you skip 4

The Holiday is on Netflix

you’re a good one Peralta

There’s no more updates until 11am the next morning, long after Mac has gone to daycare right on time, as he’s informed Amy via text to calm her down, and he was at the precinct only 15 minutes late this time.

Teddy pulled out the big guns

he had an actual ring this time. Looked expensive

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, and he wonders what he should answer before his phone pings again.

I broke the ring

and the box

also his hand (‘accident’ - have to say that for liability)

anyway he’s out of the seminar now I guess because he can’t write anymore

so no need to worry

Jake tries to suppress his grin by biting his lip as he texts her back, Charles already getting a bit suspicious over him smiling at his phone constantly two desks over. He can probably explain it away by claiming he’s been messaging Amy, instead.

You’re my goddamn queen, Diaz

Amy is

but I definitely own your ass now too since I have to spend 4 more days in this shit place for you

There’s very few updates the rest of the week (apart from several pics of Amy either working, drinking, or lying hungover in bed in their shared hotel room - Rosa has resolved to make the whole boring thing a whole lot less boring, it seems) even as he keeps texting both ladies with Mac-updates and Mac-pictures.

Amy is all smiles and definitely not upset when they get back to the precinct and he’s already there to pick her up and hand the baby to his excited mama, and even Rosa spares a smile for the two Peralta-boys after the week she’s had.

He sidles up to her as Amy coos over her little boy giving her a hug and hello kisses.

“I really do owe you one, Rosa. Thanks.” “Dude, you owe me several.” She growls. “At least I won’t have to do that ever again. I’d say Teddy’s out of the picture now.”

“Because of one broken hand?”

“Yeah, I visited him in the hospital when he was getting his cast on. To ‘apologise’ for the injury.” Rosa grins, and even her sarcastic finger quotes seem intimidating. “Not even he’s that stupid to try and come back.”

Jake raises his fist, and Rosa reluctantly bumps it before both turn their attention back to Amy, who’s already chatting about weekend plans and offering Rosa a ride home. She takes the offer, if only to play peek-a-bo with Mac in the backseat.

#b99 #brooklyn 99 #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #rosa diaz #ficlet #my writing #academy dholes

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worldtourrampage · 2 years

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⚠️ BEHIND THE MASK 🎭

This is a non-writing post. I may do these from time to time, but the bulk of my Tumblr content will be fanfiction. I've got some things on my chest I'd like to get off, and I think being open about my real self on Tumblr will help me feel even more comfortable posting things here. That's why I've decided to do a bit of an ice breaker by listing some facts about myself that make me who I am. More poetry is on the way next week, but for now, enjoy!

1) I'm a Scalie.

Being a Scalie is something I've been embarrassed about and borderline ashamed of for years, but I've recently started embracing it as a part of who I am. I don't have an original character, but my fursona (or scalesona? I dunno what term Scalies use for that to be honest) is Lizzie from Rampage. Obviously I didn't create her like most furries do with their fursonas, but I like roleplaying as her a lot. I feel that life is too short to be hard on yourself over things like being a part of the Furry/Scalie community. It feels really good to get this off my chest and be open about it for a change. If it bothers you, I sincerely apologize for making you uncomfortable. This is just something I've been working up the courage to be open about for many years, and I just wanted to make it known.

2) I'm relatively new to the Rampage franchise.

I've had a bit of experience over the years with Rampage, mainly through the Nintendo Entertainment System version of the game that I used to emulate through NEStopia as a kid. I never got around to playing the arcade version or other games in the series back then, but I’ve recently started playing Rampage World Tour on Nintendo 64 and I absolutely love it. I’m planning on playing World Tour’s sequels on Nintendo 64 and PlayStation 1 soon, as well as watching the 2018 live action Rampage movie. I’ll leave my thoughts on all those in future posts after I’ve spent a fair amount of time with them.

3) When not writing poetry, I play video games.

I play a handful of different games on my PlayStation 4. I'm hoping to upgrade to a PlayStation 5 later this year. I'm currently saving up the cash to buy one off of eBay. The whole stock and chip shortage debacle has been an absolute headache, and I was planning to upgrade sooner, but eBay scalper prices are insane, and their listings are the only reliable way to get one now. They have control over the entire PlayStation 5 market. Some games I play regularly on my PlayStation 4 include Metal Gear Solid V: The Definitive Experience, Call of Duty: Warzone, LittleBigPlanet 3, Saints Row IV: Re-Elected, Carmageddon: Max Damage, Twisted Metal: Black, and Among Us.

4) I'm 26 years old and I live in America.

My birthday is November 5th, 1995 and I’m an American. I have my birthday set to September 21, 2001 on most other platforms that have asked me for it because I prefer having my birthday be anonymous elsewhere. I feel comfortable being open about it here on Tumblr though. A fun fact about my birthday is that it was also the day the original Twisted Metal game came out for PlayStation 1, a game that would later make up most of my childhood gaming years. It also happens to be a British holiday known as Guy Fawkes' Day. It's sort of the British equivalent of the 4th of July here in America, and you might be familiar with his mask from hacker groups and movies like V for Vendetta.

5) I work a production job in a factory.

It might sound like a bad job to have, but truth be told it's not. The facility I work in is quite nice and values their employees a lot. Sometimes the production environment can be stressful with how much work needs done, and while the pressure to perform and meet quotas can be nerve-wracking, the thing that keeps me going is the peace of mind in knowing that what I'm doing allows me to be independent and to fuel my desire of being a female Godzilla in my spare time. We've all got things that motivate us to work hard, and for me getting to be a girly kaiju when I get home from work and to be able to pay for things like art commissions, Godzilla merch and video games to fuel my fantasy is what I get out of bed in the morning for.

6) I have a pet turtle.

I've always had a fascination with reptiles despite only getting deep into the Godzilla fandom recently. Dragons, dinosaurs, lizards, you name it, I love them. When I was younger, I thought a turtle would be an awesome pet to have, and my parents thought it would be a nice lesson in responsibility to take care of one, which is why they bought me one for my birthday. Her name is Pickles, and she's a Red-eared slider. I take very good care of her, and she's been with me for 14 years living a happy, healthy life. Turtles are known for living long lives, and that's exactly what I plan on giving Pickles. Hopefully she'll be with me for many years to come. Sylvester Stallone's turtles from the first Rocky movie are still alive if you can believe it, and with the proper care, turtles can be with you for most of your life!

Anyways, that's just a few things about yours truly in real life when I'm not playing pretend as a big girly lizard monster. It feels good to be a little more open about myself here and I think the comfortability I feel will bleed into my future posts and lead to stronger writing and better content. Stay tuned for more poems and posts! For now, I’ve got some cities to destroy...

~Lizzie

#lizzie #female #lizard #dinosaur #rampage #rampage world tour #scumlabs #midway #game refuge #warner bros #off my chest #personal

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missturtleduck · 3 years

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hi i saw ur requests were open and i would love if u could do a sokka x reader :) where reader is really shy and he likes to tease her and flirt with her to see her all flustered but she denies him actually liking her bc she thinks it’s just his personality to be funny like that. but then there’s the classic oh no there’s only one bed thing? thank you!

Ooooh I loved writing this! Tropes? Love them. Fluff? So fun, so sweet. I hope you enjoy, anon, and have a very happy holiday! <3

Teasing

Sokka x shy!Reader

It was a well-known fact that Sokka was a tease.

Now, he wasn’t a tease in the common sense, more that he took some joy in being a so-called comedian. Y/N seemed to be the person in their gang that got the brunt of his teasing. Every time he came up with some sarcastic quip, she would laugh along with everyone else – though most of the time she was the only one who found him funny – but then there were the other times.

She had been sparring with Zuko, who was surprisingly adept with swords for a bender, when Sokka had come by whistling with faux innocence. As he took a seat on the floor, his eyes were trained on the fight. Feeling his blue-eyed gaze boring into her, she felt her entire body flush. Steadying her breathing, Y/N pushed down the flustered flutter bats inhabiting her stomach. A frustrated cry escaped her lips as she pinned Zuko’s blades to the floor with her own.

“Sokka,” She breathed out, hating how hot she felt. “Sokka, w-what are you doing?”

He grinned. “Just enjoying the view. You know, I always thought red was Zuko’s colour, but you are boasting a lovely shade today.”

Absently, Y/N put a palm to her face, only becoming more flustered as she realised her skin had in fact became darker. As the blood rushed faster through her body, she looked desperately at Zuko for some reprieve.

“Sokka, are you here for any reason other than being a complete clown?” Zuko said, sighing in pure exasperation even as Y/N had him pinned.

The boy ignored him completely. “Has anyone ever told just how adorable you are? Because you really are.”

“Sokka,” Zuko said again, his voice less patient. “Go away before we make you.”

“Alright, alright,” He tutted, hands in the air as if in surrender. “I’ll leave you two to your dance lessons. Call me if you fall; I’ll come and catch you.”

Waiting for him to be out of earshot, Y/N groaned, dropping her sword and freeing Zuko. Her entire face was on fire. Sure, it was a metaphor, a hyperbolic one at that, but if Zuko decided to shove his ignited palm in her face, it would not manage to be as hot as she was feeling now. It might be slightly less sweaty. Ew.

Lowering herself to the ground, she sat, stretching out her aching limbs, pouring water over her roasting head. Y/N, needless to say, was mortified by Sokka’s teasing, but when was she not? She was somewhat shyer than her female friends; Katara had this maternal instinct about her that kicked into overdrive as soon as someone seemed needy. It was honestly scarier than the Avatar State. Toph was just... Toph. The girl was at least four years younger than Y/N and utterly terrifying, approaching people and situations with no fear. Then there was Suki. Suki had a knack of getting people to like her, being the loveable, charismatic leader, she was.

And that left Y/N.

Y/N struggled being heard in many a conversation. Ask her to take a compliment? No. No. Not happening. No thank you. Her shy demeanour was labelled cute by a few different people, though they all seemed to be joking – especially Sokka.

“Do you want me to sort him out for you?”

Y/N looked up, meeting Zuko’s very serious gaze for just a moment before staring at the ground. “No, it’s okay. He’s like that with everyone.”

“What?” Zuko frowned, slumping to the ground too. “What are you on about? He doesn’t flirt with everyone!”

“That wasn’t flirting!” She insisted, feeling that bashful flush creeping in again.

“He was just teasing, like he does with everyone!”

Zuko’s lips quirked. “He called you adorable.”

“Yesterday, he called Momo adorable.”

“He said you flushed was your colour.”

“And he said that red was yours, sunshine.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll catch you if you fall!”

Y/N stammered. “He could have been talking to either of us!”

There was some silence between them. Y/N didn’t usually mind sitting in silence with Zuko, who was just as awkward as her most of the time. However, the wide, toothy grin like a catgator’s was highly disconcerting.

“Zuko, I don’t know what you’re seeing, but he wasn’t flirting,” Y/N said finally, quietly commanding. “He’s just messing around like he usually does.”

The prince sighed, suppressing his mischievous grin. Raising his swords, the pair charged each other again.

✦

In the midst of a war, there wasn’t much space for fun. With the constant movement between the Western Air Temple and many significant locations to build their defences after the Day of Black Sun, Y/N found she hardly had time for anything other than training and strategizing. Sure, she may be considered meek when compared to her peers, but her mind was sharper than her blade.

After watching Aang master firebending, Sokka masterminding a prison break, and Katara nearly murdering a man – all with Zuko’s help – she had some whiplash. She might even say that she had been somewhat blindsided by them, but she didn’t particularly mind. It was when they moved onto Ember Island, however, that Y/N found there to be an issue. In all the excitement, or terror, of being separated from Haru and the others, and possibly murdering Sparky Sparky Boom Man, the gang ended up hiding out on Ember Island.

Spirits, did Y/N love the sunshine. The sand? Not so much, nor the swimsuits. Nevertheless, she much preferred it to Aang’s beloved ancestral temple.

“Okay,” Zuko said as they all collected together in the house, “So there’s a bit of an issue.”

“Fire Nation?” Katara asked, eyes narrowing.

“Worse,” Zuko said, voice grave. “There are seven of us, and only six beds.”

The teenagers all looked between each other with varying looks of embarrassment and disgust. It was Toph who spoke first.

“Well, I for one do not want to share a room,” She scoffed, stomping her foot – a reminder of her power. “I can already hear all of you when we sleep on the ground. I am not missing out on my chance for a quiet night of sleep.”

“That seems fair,” Zuko hummed as he pulled a hat off of a dresser. “Everyone else, unless they have some reason why not, will put their name in here.”

Sokka whined, pointing his finger at the heir of the Fire Nation. “Fine! But they should get the biggest bedroom.”

Y/N swore Zuko smirked. “Done.”

Sat on the floor watching him write names, the group waited anxiously to see who would be sharing a room at least for that night. Mixing up bits of paper, he seemed to be building up some bravado, akin to a showman about to pull a jackalope out of a hat.

“Sokka.”

The boy cursed under his breath as Zuko continued on with his little show, the piece of paper disintegrating as easily as a leaf floating in a breeze.

“And Y/N!”

She met Zuko’s eye, entire body hot, sending a psychic message along the lines of sprits, no, Zuko, no, please, Zuko, don’t do this.

Despite the fact that Y/N knew Sokka was only joking with his teasing, somewhere along the line she had ended up falling for it – for him. It was sudden and violent, the way a meteor crashed through the atmosphere, roaring, brilliant, and completely obliterating anything in its path. Currently, Y/N was that metaphorical meteorite, burning up and crashing into the earth.

Since Zuko apparently couldn’t read minds, she chanced a glance at Sokka. She expected some sort of joke, a quip, anything. Instead, he was deadly silent, stony in his face, staring too at Zuko. Was he blushing, or was she making it up in her head? This question soon slipped from her brain as she those baby blue eyes were staring straight at her.

Tui and La, Agni, spirits above; he hated her.

“Cool!” She said, though it came out more like a squeak. “I’ll see you tonight, I guess.”

“Y/N, we have the entire day before- “

She cut Suki off. “Yep, busy today! Busy, busy, busy. Plenty of strategic planning to do before the big day!”

And she was gone. Even Aang, renowned creator of the air scooter, had never seen a person move so fast, and Y/N wasn’t even a bender. In her haste, she didn’t catch the sly looks, nor the disapproving one courtesy of Katara. She definitely didn’t catch the shy grin on Sokka’s face, muddled with complete embarrassment. Getting as far away from the house as possible was her current goal, and she achieved it with insane speed – and longevity.

For an entire day, Y/N managed to see none of her friends, excluding Appa and Momo. Her animal friends seemed very concerned and very interested in her noughts and crosses diagrams in the black volcanic sand of Ember Island. It was only when Yue began to rise above the horizon that she thought it would be safe to come out. With what felt like a walk of shame, she trekked back to the beach house, a sleeping Momo cradled in her arms like a baby. Even Appa, who had been occupied with all sorts of made-up games throughout the day, was beginning to sway, eyes drooping, weighed down by sleep. Settling them down in the warm sand, Y/N climbed the wooden stairs.

Being quiet used to get her everywhere unseen; it didn’t work that night. Wordless, her friends’ good night wishes falling on deaf ears, she entered the biggest bedroom, alone. Falling face first onto the bed, she muffled a frustrated scream into one of the too many decadent pillows adorning it. Heaving herself onto her back, Y/N groaned dramatically with the effort it took. This bed was so soft. She tried to think of a more comfy, luxurious bed she had ever been on – and failed. The four-poster frame was casting odd shadows across the dark room. It felt especially lonely.

She felt especially lonely.

Sitting up, a low rumble filled the silence. Her stomach was apparently rather unhappy with the distinct lack of food during the day. Y/N had forgotten about that. She weighed up the options; go out and face embarrassment, or skip dinner for the first time in her life. Fortunately, she needn’t think long.

“So, everyone’s going to bed, and I remembered you hadn’t eaten.”

Sokka.

Of course.

“Oh,” Was all she could manage, mentally kicking herself for her utter lack of articulation. “Th-thanks, Sokka.”

Flicking on the light, the shadows no longer seemed odd, nor did the room feel lonely. There, in the doorway, stood Sokka. He was pretty – something that always took Y/N by surprise even though she saw him every day. Sure, he hadn’t grown into his gangly limbs yet, but he was getting there. His shoulders had gotten broader, his arms larger from training. She couldn’t help but imagine how comfy he’d be to lie against, how warm his hold would be.

“I brought snacks?”

Opening her mouth only to close it again, Y/N felt like a fish thrown mercilessly out of water. Instead, she managed a timid pat on the bed. He was slow to react, slower to move, and she only felt more inadequate. Whatever Zuko thought he saw at the temple was wrong.

“Wow, this bed is soft,” Sokka gasped, bouncing lightly on it like a small child. “It’s like sitting on a cloud!”

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that passed her lips as she took a slice of fruit from the platter he had brought in. For the briefest moment, infinitesimally small, Sokka ceased with his childish antics and just looked. Brightening, he seemed to thrive – delight – in her laughter, continuing to goof about with the numerous pillows and posh looking decor.

“Whoa.”

Y/N looked up at him from her laughing, stomach aching with joy. “What?”

“I didn’t know you could get prettier,” He said, brows furrowed, eyes sparkling.

She turned mute in an instant, feeling that all too familiar flush again, only this time it was close – more intense. Silent, she took another piece of fruit, eating it in moments, anything to give her time. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

He frowned. “What? No. I’m not- “

“It’s okay if you are!” Y/N insisted, her smile plastered on and her heart aching. “I know you joke about with us all, and it’s just how you are. It’s not a bad thing, and I know you’re just joking and- “

“Y/N,” Sokka said, almost incredulous. “I’m not joking. I have never joked about that kind of thing with you.”

She stopped dead. “What?”

It wasn’t a question – well, not to Sokka at least. That one word was her address to the universe. It was astonishment, frustration, incredulity, sheer joy, so many emotions all wrapped into one simple word. The moments that passed between that word and their locked gaze spoke a thousand more words, sang a hundred more emotions.

“You didn’t know?”

Her head was empty. “Prettier?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Sokka chuckled weakly, moving the platter to the side.

“Prettier,” Y/N repeated slowly, looking up at him, “As in I was already pretty?”

“Erm, yes?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Tui and La, yes.”

Oh.

“Okay,” She said, testing the waters, “And you like it when I blush?”

“Yeah, you look cute,” He admitted, sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Looking down, bashful, she recalled training with Zuko. “The word you used was adorable.”

No words came in response to that, only a gentle hand on her cheek. Guiding her face up, Sokka looked at her and saw her. Y/N could see him reaching for words that danced in his mind and away from his grasp, so many more pretty, teasing words he could say. But he wasn’t teasing, not really. He certainly wasn’t when he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and easy to melt into; she didn’t need to be shy, not with him.

They shared more sweet kisses, laughing under the moonlight in that fancy bed they got to share. Fruit, a bed, kisses; they shared them all, drifting into an easy sleep as the moon began to slip away into daylight. Basking in the prospect of a lazy morning, they made the most of it.

They weren’t even mad when they found out Zuko rigged the entire thing.

#atla #fic request #anon request #sokka x reader #sokka x shy!reader #the beach #sokka #platonic zuko x reader #fluff #aang #katara #toph #suki #oneshot #missturtleduck

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