#she was weak since she was admitted last week and usually just sleep but shes so nice every time we administered medication to her

[collecting--stardust]

Posted to female oncology ward for these two weeks and all I can say is cancer is cruel but amidst that pain and sorrow, you can really see true love in that ward

#saying this in light of one of my group's fav patient that passed away after my shift last morning #shes in her early 30s and was a teacher and was diagnosed with breast cancer that metastases to lung and cervical lymph nodes #she was weak since she was admitted last week and usually just sleep but shes so nice every time we administered medication to her #or even when we check her vital signs despite how tired she was #her husband is a teacher too and as of late hes there every day as her condition deteriorated #apparently she wanted to undergo chemotherapy but her first cycle led to some severe side effects so her doctor doesn't allowed it #when we read the case note before clocking out the shift yesterday theres a psychiatrist entry so yeah #her husband was just caressing her hands as she slept yesterday and he looks obviously pained when my friend asked what had she eaten #because we need to fill the intake output chart and yeah she was unable to eat much anyway #it was very sad to see her husband wiping his tears silently by her bedside #and then we came to the ward this morning to find out she had passed away and there was a discharge note on her case note #apparently she supposedly will be discharged today so that she will be able to go at home #turned out she left first.. #it rained the whole morning today and it kind of summarizes the mood of our group members this morning #it was sad obviously but when i think about it you can really see how much her husband really cared for her until the end #i hope he will be able to heal and that may her soul rest in peace #personal.txt

[inkandpen22]

An Electric Connection (1/?)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild language

Word Count: 2.5k

Part Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is the Queen of Hawkins High, but under her radiant smile she's crumbling. She's struggling to maintain her perfect image and everyone is blind to it except the one person who can look past the facade.

Masterlist

You ride in your boyfriend Chance's car on the way to school with your mind racing as fast as his driving. Flashes of light glimmer in various warm colors through your shut eyes. Your lack of sleep these last few weeks is catching up with you, but you don't have a second to show it. The hand full of minutes it takes to get to school is all you have to rest and you take it gladly. Once you enter Hawkins High, you must be on. You must be the Y/N Y/L/N they all expect. The head cheerleader, student council social chair, dance committee president, all of it.

"Hey?" Chance mutters as he places a hand on your hand.

You turn your head away from the window and flicker your eyes open to meet a quick glance of his eyes as he focuses on the road.

"You okay?"

You hum and offer him a weak nod. "Yeah," you yawn. "Just a bit tired."

"After the game, the boys were talking about having a little... get together," he chooses to describe it. "You wanna go?"

No, you wish to say, but you know it's not what he wants to hear. You hate to admit it, even to yourself, but you're a people pleaser. You rarely, if ever, say no.

"Um yeah, maybe," you answer vaguely.

Chance flashes you a grin as he pulls into the hectic parking lot. The muffled chatter and chaos of everyone shuffling into school both wake you up and triggers a subtle wave of anxiety.

You reach down at your feet for your purse and books when abruptly Chance hits the breaks. His arm flies across you before you fly forward and smack your head on the dash.

Chance lays his hand on the horn and yells out his window. "How about you watch where you're going, Freak?"

You glance ahead to see Eddie Munson and his brigade of minions gathered in front of the car on their way into the school.

Eddie snickers, pleased to get a rise out of Chance. "Maybe pay a little less attention to your girlfriend and actually learn how to drive." His eyes flicker to you with a smirk. "Apologizes, Disney Princess." He bows mockingly. He's been calling you that since Freshman year, ever since you made Homecoming court for the first time. "Love the hair today by the way," he comments with a wink.

You suddenly grow self-conscious about your hair. You usually have to wear it in a ponytail because of cheer but you curled it today, nothing crazy, just some waves you saw Brooke Shields do for a magazine.

"Hey!" Chance barks. "Don't talk to her."

"Oh right, forgot, I'm just a peasant amongst you high school royalty," Eddie remarks, pretending to grovel. He earns a series of laughs from his buddies. Before they all head off, Eddie flips off Chance as one last dig.

Chance rolls up his window and grumbles. "I hate that guy."

Meanwhile, Eddie continues inside with his Hellfire friends, his only friends. You don't notice, but as Chance waits for the road to clear of kids before continuing to find a spot, Eddie glances back at you. From the car window, he watches your eyes flicker about the parking lot with a blank expression. You bite down on your lower lip, a habit he's seen you do a million times in class. It's one of his favorite things, a part of your hair.

He wasn't being snarky before, though if you asked he'd deny it. He loves it on the rare occasion your wear your hair down. He could stare at it for hours, analyzing the various shades within it, and how it shimmers. In fact, he does stare at it from time to time in class or at lunch. Your hair, your doodling, the way you bite your lip when you're not paying attention, confused, or overwhelmed during a test. On any occasion he finds himself just looking at you throughout the school day, you never seem to notice, of course, You have too many friends to ever pay any attention to him. You're constantly surrounded by them. You're untouchable. All he can do is admire from afar.

__________________________

"But as long as you're into band or science..." Eddie yells over the chatter of the busy room from atop his table right as You and Chrissy enter the lunchroom arm-in-arm. "Or parties..." He whines in disgust.

"Loser!" One student hollers at him.

Eddie walks the platform like a catwalk, making you and Chrissy finally notice him. You both slow down, after realizing you have to pass him to get to your table.

"Oh Jesus," you scoff under your breath.

"He can't never act calm, can he?" Chrissy grumbles.

"Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!" Eddie shouts toward our friend's table.

Jason flies up from his chair all mighty. "You want something, freak?"

Eddie sticks his tongue out at Jason and brings his fingers up to his head like devil horns, just to piss him off.

Jason mumbles something under his breath and sits down, thankfully. There have been enough fights between the two our entire high school career to last us a lifetime.

"It's forced conforming!" Eddie continues to preach.

You guide Chrissy along, having had enough of his speech. You keep your eyes ahead and walk somewhat briskly through the cafeteria.

"That's what's killing the kids!" Eddie declares, hopping down from the table. He hadn't realized he would land right in front of you and Chrissy of all people, but he wasn't disappointed to say the least. A smirk forms on his lips as his dark eyes meet yours, causing his grand speech to come to an abrupt end.

“Excuse me, Princess.” He extends out his arm and bows to let you pass.

Chrissy moves to walk, but you remain stationary. Your eyes locked on Eddie's with a narrowed gaze.

"Come on, Y/N," she urges you along.

"I'll be there in a sec," you assure her, slipping your arm out from hers.

She glances between you two before relucantly leaving you behind to join your friends safely across the room.

Your eyes finally shift away from Eddie and toward the two freshmen sitting at the Hellfire table. “Still brainwashing children?” You tease.

“It’s my vocation to guide the youth away from your kind’s corrupt ways," he fires back without missing a beat.

You snicker. "Oh right, because maintaining a decent GPA while balancing extra-curriculars is soooo barbaric of me." You cross your arms over your chest and meet his gaze with a smirk. "I should take a page from your book. Sleep in class, get pushed back for two years, and spend all of my free time playing a board game," you list mockingly.

He chuckles and takes a step closer until he's towering over you. "At least I don't spend hours in front of a mirror slapping makeup on my face and shake my ass for everyone in town in the gym once a week."

Your satisfied smirk fades and turns into a spiteful frown. “Oh, bite me, Munson.” 

“Anytime, Cheer Queen," he offers before he glances over across the room toward your table with a wave of his hand. "But your little boyfriend might get jealous.” 

Your eyes follow his to see Chance standing in front of his seat and watching you two closely with a deadly glare. You roll your eyes and shove past Eddie, earning a snicker from him.

"You can shake your pom-poms for me in private whenever you're ready!" He teases loudly enough for your friends, especially Chance to hear.

__________________________

School days are feeling longer and longer with each passing week. Your eyes are becoming heavier earlier in the morning and by lunch, you feel as though you could collapse onto the tile floor. When your history teacher turned off the lights to show projections of American Revolution battle routes, you knew you were screwed. To your left, Chrissy is vigorously taking notes, always on her A-game. On your other side, Chance doodles various sports ball from footballs to a baseball bat. All you can focus on is trying not to fall asleep.

"And then the American forces moved north..." Your teacher chatters on.

You're not sure when it happened, but an innocent blink turned into a prolonged rest. Your mind wanders to your to-do list: finalize the decorations list for the winter dance coming up, come up with a cheer practice schedule for next semester, finish application essays to UPenn, Notre Dame, and... and...

"Y/N!" A voice shouts, causing you to jump and your eyes to fly open.

Your heart is pounding in your ears as your sight flickers rapidly about the classroom to find your teacher and everyone staring at you.

"Can you repeat what I just described?" Your teacher requests sternly.

"Oh, uh, you said..." You stammer, still in a daze from your unpredicted nap.

"Please pay attention," your teacher snaps before turning back to her projection. "So, as I was saying..."

You slouch down in your chair, utterly embarrassed. Chrissy offers you a comforting smile of encouragement which you return.

"You okay?" Chance whispers with furrowed brows.

You hum weakly as you wrap your arms around yourself in a hug. Your eyes wander about the room, then out the window. Finally, in your peripheral vision, you see someone looking at you, Eddie. Your eyes meet and for a moment, if you didn't know any better, you'd think you saw sympathy behind his gaze.

For the remainder of class there was only one thought that drowned out the rest, find a solution to your insomnia and find a way to cope with your constant anxiety. Your schedule doesn't allow space for anxiety. You need to be able to cope and be fully-functioning at all times. In order to do that, no anxiety and sleep are required.

The idea to seek Eddie's expertise didn't just appear during history. No, it's a well-known fact around school that he sells just about any drug seen on Miami Vice. You never actually acted on this idea before for a number of reasons. One is monthly drug tests by the athletic department. Two, you're afraid of how you'll react as you've never tried any sort of drug before, even weed. Three, Eddie scared you, not in a Michael Myers or Freddie Krueger-type way, but he was unpredictable and metal. Everything you or your friends are supposed to be.

After class, out of pure desperation, you decide to talk with Eddie. You'll do just about anything to make your schedule work and achieve your goals, partially because you rather die than let people see you fail.

Your final class of the day, English, you don't share with Chrissy or Chance. However, you do share it with Eddie. He never talks and sits in the back so it took you almost all semester to realize he was in all but one of your classes. The one class being yearbook, that doesn't really require an explanation.

Chance gives you a quick peck before you part ways. "See you after class."

You offer him a content yet minor smile. While Chance continues on to his next class, you linger by the classroom door, waiting for Eddie to step out. You try to act casual so know what suspects the reality of what you're doing. You can't exactly be seen willing waiting for Eddie Munson of all people. You may interact with him from time to time, but everyone can assume that it's not pleasurable or by your initiation.

Eddie emerges and doesn't notice you as his head hangs low with his fingers coming through his hair. You follow behind him like a spy on the prowl. Swiftly, you pick up your pace, weaving between people to keep up with him. You didn't exactly plan this through, so when you spot a dark empty classroom, you take your chances. You grab his forearm and pull him into the room, hopefully without anyone paying attention.

"Hey! Hey! What the fuck?" Eddie blurts out as he stumbles into the room.

You shut the door behind you, making sure through the tiny window that no one noticed.

Eddie straightens up and when his eyes land on you surprise is just one emotion he's feeling. When you lock the door and turn toward him, he chuckles nervously. "Okay, did I fall and hit my head or something because this is-"

"You sell right?" You cut to the chase.

He raises his brows and leans against a desk. "Pardon?"

"Weed, you sell?" You specify, growing more and more impatient.

"Depends..." He releases a breathless laugh and sets his books down behind him. "Are you in search of some or are you acting as an undercover cop for Principal Higgins?"

"It's not that..." Your eyes fall to the floor in shame and anxiety as you press your textbooks to your chest. "I...I need something," you admit timidly, though you're not exactly sure what you're asking for.

Eddie's brows furrow together as both confusion and curiosity overpower his initial surprise.

Nervously, you check over your shoulder at the door. If anyone saw you in here alone with him, teacher or student, who knows what they'd assume. "Look, we can't talk here. Is there somewhere we could meet up later?" You practically plead.

A crooked grin forms across his lips. "You're kidding right?"

You scoff. "Alright, sorry I asked." You start toward the door urgently. You could've predicted this would be a mistake.

"No, no, wait!" Eddie blurts out. He lunges forward and grabs your arm, stopping you.

You whip your head around and meet his gaze. In the dark, his eyes appear almost black. Granted, they were already pretty dark, to begin with, like two dots of ink on paper.

"I just wasn't expecting you of all people to want to buy," he reasons. His hand lingers around your arm with a gentle squeeze.

"I wouldn't be, trust me," you emphasize, much to his amusement. Then, you sigh and shift on your feet with a frown. "But I'm desperate."

He had never seen like this so... lost. Usually, you're smiling, laughing, walking around these halls like a damn ray of sunshine. You're practically the human embodiment of a Care Bear.

"The woods just beyond the practice fields," he states. "There's a picnic table a few yards in, can't miss it. Right after school, deal?" His hand slips from your arm and he holds it out between you two.

You hesitate for a second, peering down at his hand. Are you really willing to do this? Risk getting caught and perhaps losing everything you've ever worked for?

"It'll be our secret," he adds.

Your eyes meet his and he offers you a soft smile. You slip your hand into his and feel his many rings graze your skin. You note two things. One, this is the first time you've ever touched despite being near one another on numerous occasions. Two, his touch, despite the rings, is a lot softer than Chance's and you've held hands many times.

Your hands break apart right as the warning bell rings. Your focus travels back to school and your obligations. "I should-"

He nods and gestures toward the door. "No yeah, go ahead."

You hurry toward the door, already worrying about being late. Before you unlock it, you turn over your shoulder and offer the boy a smile. "Thanks, Eddie."

He releases a quiet chuckle and collects his books. "Anytime, Princess."

When you do finally leave the room, Eddie lingers behind for a minute. The cool and relaxed attitude he had around you slips away to reveal his mindblown state. He pushes off the desk and brings his hands to the side of his head. "Holy shit... holy shit... Holy shit!" He practically celebrates, doing a slight jump. "Okay, okay, okay," he tries to calm down. "Gotta be cool about this. Gotta cool... holy shit!"

_____________________

Masterlist

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #stranger things s4 #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson story #eddie munson series

[syntheticfoxfire]

Coming Home | Dana Scully | [A, F]

Summary: Scully knows that her work puts a serious strain on your relationship. So returning after she was nearly killed by a swarm of ancient green mites, she doesn’t expect you to be waiting for her. Word count: 1.7k

Walking towards her front door, Scully felt like a criminal expecting her sentence. Her legs felt shaky, her body still rather weak even afters weeks of treatment. Two or three more hours and she’d be dead. That was a lot to swallow. The feeling of her skin crawling with mites was still fresh in her memory and it made her feel uncomfortable in her own skin. Usually she’d prefer to be left alone after a case; to have some time to fully process everything that has happened on her own before someone else tries to dig into it with her. Today was an exception.

She knew how worried you got every time she was injured on duty. She knew very well how much it was breaking your heart to see her hurt. She knew that this was the thing that was most damaging to your relationship. She understood. If it was the other way around, she’d feel the same way.

The last few big cases were… bad. Almost getting torn apart by some strange beast, getting shot… It was all adding up and she knew you were on edge, that it was getting harder for you to keep it together, to cope. And so she also knew that this incident must have been the last straw.

They told her that they informed you about the severity of her state, of course not the exact reason, but you were informed about how serious the situation was. Which however lead to you only being informed about at-Death’s-door Scully being admitted to a medical facility to be treated and that she might not make it. And that you won’t be able to see her. No further information would be provided.

She couldn’t begin to imagine how scared you must have been. Weeks without any updates until she was well enough to be released. That call she had to make herself. She kept it short, simple. Telling you she was being released and when she’ll be coming home.

She would be furious had it been the other way around. And considering all the incidents before… She had a hard time imagining that anyone would be able to handle it. The constant fear, the lack of information and updates. Especially since it was hardly a rare occurrence.

So coming home this time, she wasn’t expecting a note.

She opened the door and stepped inside. Closing the door behind her, she lingered while locking it. But there was no use trying to avoid the inevitable. She already knew, hasn’t she? She noticed your coat and jackets were missing from the hanger in the hall. She could only imagine how the dresser in her bedroom would look like.

She barely managed to drag herself to the kitchen and get a glass of water. No note, as expected. She’d lie if she said it didn’t hurt. That none of it hurt. She was understanding though, she wasn’t mad or disappointed, sad even. She was just numb. And tired. First, she’d sleep and then… well, she probably should cry but right now it hurt too much to even do that.

She walked up the stairs, hesitating in front of her bedroom door. What would she do if her expectations were true? What if the room really was bare of all your possessions? Would she really fall asleep without your presence lingering in the room?

With bated breath, she pushed the door open gently.

She was expecting to see a lot of things and mentally prepared herself for all of them. But this she haven’t expected.

You were lying on her bed, cuddled under the covers with your face buried in her shirt which you clung to like a child would to their blanket.

There were few things that could take her breath away, other than Mulder’s theories, yet the sight in front of her most definitely counted among them.

In disbelief but with a quiet chuckle she carefully sat down next to you. She stroked your cheek gingerly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You hummed and turned slightly. One of yours eyes opened. You smiled, ashamed. You tried to hide the incriminating shirt but she stopped you by putting her hand over yours.

“Hey,” you greeted with hoarse, sleepy voice.

“Hey,” she smiled back, hardly holding back the adoration in her look.

“Sorry, I know you want to be alone, I just… I needed to see you. I missed you,” you said with casted down eyes.

She shook her head, her hand coming back up to keep caressing your cheek.

“No, I actually really wished you’d be here,” she confessed. You noticed how shaky her voice sounded.

Frowning, you sat up. “What’s wrong?” you asked. You shifted closer, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head with a weak laugh. “Well, I didn’t see your things in the hall and with everything that happened I assumed…” she didn’t need to continue for you to understand.

You bit your lip. This was a tricky territory. You were aware that this wouldn’t be the first of her relationships that would end because of her job. Still, unable to come up with a reassuring speech quick enough and absolutely not allowing for your silence to be misunderstood, you chose the first-things-first approach.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just spilled some coffee on my coat while I was out and decided to just wash all of them while at it. I must have slept through the washing cycle,” you explained. It earned you a fond smile.

“Besides,” you sighed, shifting close enough to embrace her, “We’re both adults. I wouldn’t just abandon you without even giving you a chance of closure. Should anything happen between us that would lead to a break up, I can at least promise you that we’ll talk about it and everything.”

She nodded, leaning into your arms until she was hugging you back, pulling you close. “Thank you,” she said. She allowed herself a moment of peace. Just a moment without the doubts proding in her brain. It was too short. “Then does it mean that,” she swallowed, “Well, that we’re still…?”

You pulled away. She let you without a protest. It felt miserable, to see her like this. Steeling herself against something that would not come. You cupped her cheek, stroking her skin with your thumb.

“Dana, I won’t leave you just because things are hard,” you sighed, “We’re still together, dating and very happy – that is if you want?” you smiled at her, leaning closer to hover your lips over hers. She closed the gap, finally smiling herself.

She didn’t let you pull away, instead she helped you into her lap. You obeyed, pleased, and put your hands around her neck. Her hands were on your waist, holding you steady and close as she kissed you breathless.

Her lips were soft and warm against yours. Careful at first, but her kisses soon grew deeper, more urgent. Fingers dug into your flesh. Her tongue slipped into your mouth and you let her dominate, explore, mark as hers. Only when you really needed to breathe did she let you escape her care, but still she kept you close. Foreheads touching and noses brushing together, you were both smiling.

“I love you,” you whispered breathlessly.

“I love you too. Just what I did to deserve you,” she wondered aloud, peppering light kisses along your jawline.

You hummed. “You’re very loving, absolutely adorable, very kind,” you counted, “and you also keep us safe from the little green men.”

She laughed against your skin exciting a swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

“That’s not really what I’m doing but thank you anyway,” she teased, “besides Mulder tells me they’re actually little gray men.”

“Well, tell him I said thanks for the info but he’s still getting his ass kicked for this one,” you mumbled. The displeasure was obvious in your voice.

“I’m sorry,” she said equally quietly. She buried her head into your shoulder.

You shook your head. You began brushing your fingers through her hair. Anything to distract yourself from the anxious thoughts running through your head. The scenarios and what-ifs that lingered there even though she was home, safe, alive in your arms. You let out a shaky breath. You kiss her forehead.

“I was just scared, that’s all. Well, terrified, restless… I didn’t know what I’d do if you…” you take a few seconds to compose yourself. You feel her tense under your hands. “But none of that is your fault, okay? No one could anticipate this. And I know you’ve done everything you could to stay as safe as you could,” you speak softly, reassuringly, all the while running your hands through her hair. She nods against your body but you feel her shaking. You hold her tighter and tighter still when you feel the wetness seeping through your shirt.

You let her cry, remind her that it’s okay. That she’s safe and loved, and that no one is upset with her. Your hands slide down to her waist when she straightens and leans against you, forehead touching. She needs you close as much as you need her. You talk like that about the whole ordeal. Well, she does. You just listen and provide reassurance and stupid jokes when needed.

You stay in the comfortable position even after all have been said. Touching, caressing. Until she yawns and you smile.

“Time to get you to bed,” you tease, pushing on her shoulders to make her fall backwards on the mess you made of covers. She laughs, pulling you down with her. She kisses you, softly.

“Will you stay with me?” she asks and it’s vulnerable and heart wrenching. You kiss her again with the same tenderness.

“Of course, just let me check the coat and jackets. I’ll be just a minute,” you promise and leave her in the bedroom to change as you put your things in the drier.

When you get back, she’s already in her pyjamas and waiting for you under the covers. You snuggle to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace. She hums in satisfaction and scoots closer until she’s pressed against you. You smile, kissing her forehead.

“Missed me, huh?” you purr and nuzzle her soft hair.

“I always miss you,” she says gently, honestly. And you know she does.

Slowly, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you drift off to sleep together.

#x-files #dana scully #scully x reader #angst #fluff #fanfic #oneshot

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Seventeen

I know it’s morning, because the incessant thumping bass music starts up in tandem with the bird song. I lie with my eyes closed stubbornly insisting on sleeping through the noise, but when Claire gives up, stretches and starts to crawl out of her sleeping bag, I know it’s time that I admit defeat. 

“Good morning.” She says to me as soon as I stir, she’s bright as a bell. 

“Morning,” I croak, rubbing my eyes. “and happy birthday to you!”

She makes an excited squealing sound. “Thank you! It’s so weird! I’m a legal adult now!”

“Do you feel different?”

“Yeah, maybe a bit. Usually when people ask me that I’m like ‘no’ but today… maybe I actually do. I feel mature.”

“You have the whole world in your hands now, you can do anything.”

She looks down at her palms as though they’re suddenly magical, and I laugh and reach for the bag of food in the corner of the tent, no thoughts in my head but the chocolate brioche we bought in Aldi. 

We lope outside and start eating it on the camping chairs, and we must be the first ones to wake up in the entire place, because the whole field is deserted. Last night it was buzzing with chatter and music, people everywhere dressed in colourful outfits, coming over to our little campsite and sharing a drink with us, people singing songs, letting off firecrackers somewhere, but today it’s a wasteland. A battlefield of cheap supermarket beer cans litter the dry, dusty soil and there are pieces of what is presumably someone’s feather boa strewn all over the place. It reminds me of the time that my cat mauled a bird to death in our garden. 

“Did you have fun yesterday?” Claire asks me with a mouthful of soft, chocolatey bread, and I nod. “Yeah it was fun. It hasn’t been what I expected but like, in a good way.”

“I know, it’s a little bit chaotic.”

“And the horror stories about the toilets are true.”

“Ugh, yeah. Don’t remind me. I’ve been holding in my pee for ages.”

I lower my voice a little and lean toward her. “And how is it with Shane?”

“Oh, fine.” Her cheeks turn pink. “It’s been good, he’s really nice. I think I like him a lot…” She trails off. “I hope it’s not weird for you.”

“Actually it isn’t.” I admit. “I’m happy for you.”

She sighs. “I hope everyone else will be too.”

“Everyone, meaning Kelly?”

She shrugs “Well she hates me anyway now so I suppose there’s literally nothing that could make it worse, I just can’t help but feel a bit bad.”

“She hates me too, I think.” I lament. “But I suppose we can’t make decisions based on her, otherwise we’d both be bored and miserable.”

“We’re way better off without her.” She decides.  “She’s always been a bitch, and we just ignored it because she wasn’t being a bitch directly to us until now.”

“She always was to me.” I admit. “Ever since I’ve known her she’s been a bit like…. Aggressive. I feel like it just got worse this summer.”

“Yeah I know, there was that thing she said about Liam and you at the barbeque, that never sat right with me.”

“She said a lot of mean stuff. I think she sort of meant well, but it doesn’t always come out of her mouth sounding that way.”

“She’s jealous and annoying, let’s not make it complicated.”

I hesitate for a few moments. “Do you remember what she said to me the morning that I broke up with Liam?”

“Hm? When was that?”

“A few weeks ago. You were both there, and she said that I should stick to boys like him, because… other kinds of boys would end up hurting me.”

“Actually, yeah. I remember.”

“Do you think she was right?”

She looks at me thoughtfully, blue eyes searching for something in my face, like weakness or naivety, maybe. “I don’t know…”

“But…” I prompt.

“But sometimes it’s good to know when something is going to be too much for you too quickly.”

“So you agree with her.”

“Maybe, Evie. Why? Do you still fancy him?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, do you think there’s a chance he’d feel the same?”

“I dunno that either.” I feel my face starting to get hot, and I’m agitated, too warm and too hungry. All of the things that seemed right last night seem a bit muddled this morning, and as I think of Jude, and the places where his hands were, his mouth doing those things to mine, it’s freaky to imagine that the person he was kissing into the wall was me. In the chalk white of this Saturday morning, I find it hard to rectify that. I’ve remembered who I really am now; a girl who never does things like that, she’d be way too shy to. 

The zip of our neighbouring tent flies open then, and Jude’s torso spills out onto the ground. He’s wearing an old t-shirt, stained slightly pink in the wash, and his hair is tousled. The abruptness of his exit makes my skeleton nearly eject itself from my skin. I sit pinned to the spot and pray that he didn’t hear any of our conversation.

He’s rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, and his voice is croaky. “What are you guys eating?”

“Brioche.” Claire tells him.

“Is there enough for me too?”

She tosses the packet to him, but she has a bad aim and it lands about two meters away. He has to get up and get it himself. He comes out of the tent with a pair of sports shorts on, and even though I’ve seen the expanse of his long tanned legs a dozen times before, I still feel shy and have to look at something else. 

“Such a good shout, brioche.” He says, tearing open the plastic wrapper and taking a bite out of one. 

“Are you forgetting something?” Claire says to him cheekily, and his head jerks up to meet my eyes for just a moment. He looks alarmed, but then relief comes over his face as he realises I’m not expecting him to do or say anything. 

“Oh, It’s your eighteenth!” He says to her “Happy birthday! Welcome to the club.”

“Thank you!”

He gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then instead of taking the seat next to me, he sits way down across the circle. I’m immediately acutely aware of him, and his demeanour is throwing me. He hasn’t said anything directly to me yet, nor is he really looking at me at all. He’s looking off somewhere distantly, just eating the bread with glassy eyes. A pit of uncertainty settles in my stomach and I start to feel slightly panicked. I don’t want to be around him anymore, it’s too stressful. I wish that I could make myself disappear. Eventually I make up an excuse about needing to get something in the tent, and I crawl in there and stay until everybody else wakes up. 

Shortly enough the campsite creeps to life. Bodies crawl out of tents and begin their trudge to the horrible toilets and down to the coffee stands, moving past our campsite with grey complexions, like a crowd of benevolent zombies. Jen and the others eventually come out too, and when I re-emerge from my cocoon we all sit around tucking into what little food Claire and I bought until it’s nearly gone. I don’t mention that we didn’t plan to feed everyone, and in fact the food we brought was supposed to last us for the whole weekend, because I think it might be uncool to say that. 

Shane fumbles in his pocket and produces a single birthday candle, which he sticks into the last piece of brioche indelicately, lights it and places it in Claire’s hands. “Happy birthday” he grins. “You can drink legally now.”

She laughs gleefully. “Yes, legally. And vote, more importantly, and get my licence.”

“You’re not going to learn to drive though, really, are you?”

“Why would I do that when I have you to taxi me around?” She blows out the candle and we all cheer for her. 

Then Shane turns to me, having to make a dig at me as usual. “Now Evie’s the only one who’s still a little child.”

“I’m not a child.” I grumble. “I’m eighteen in march.”

“Such a wee baby, sure march is seven months away.” 

“Yeah, ha ha. Shut up.”

I glance over at Jude and he just looks awkward. “What’s on the agenda today, Jenny?” He asks, swiftly ignoring us.

She takes out her trusty band schedule and starts listing off the names of who’s playing today. “That rave thing is on later on” She adds. “Starting at like midnight, so we can go to that if you’re all up for it.” We all agree that it would be fun, and if we’re not going to stay up all night and party on Claire’s birthday then when will we ever. 

Prev // Next

#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 1

[anime-kia]

Sleeping Beauty (Part 2)

Omg! Yes it is finally here! 2 years later I present to you, part 2 to Sleeping Beauty! I'm actually so excited for this, it took me so long, but I feel like I'm prepared to write it and keep the style that I started with. So enjoy!

Warnings: Violence, Smut

Relationship: Soulmates - King Erik x Reader

Weeks passed since Erik's last encounter with your dormant frame. He was tense, pacing around the throne room with heavy steps. The Dora, tribe leaders and servants watched him quietly as he dominated the room with his vexed aura.

It's not that he didn't succeed in his plan to embed spies in every nation and distribute vibranium across the globe. It was that pesky panther nagging at him in his dreams every single night.

She appeared to him in the ancestral plane, perched on a tree. Erik stood below, dressed in nothing, but his gold fanged necklace.

N'Jadaka, why are you so hesitant?

Fari was her name.

"What you talkin' about?" He regarded her with no respect, the irritation laced in his tone.

Have we not guided you enough?

We... The ancestors? Erik assumed.

"Guided me?"

You are intelligent, N'Jadaka. Whether you choose to use your cleverness or not, it is up to you. The she-panther leaped off of the tree and circled around the man.

He watched her with his eyes, never moving from his place in the tall grass.

Listen to your heart.

Erik's eyes narrowed at Fari.

Ever since coming to Wakanda, Erik felt as though everyone was treating him like he was a naive child. Constantly they would give him cliché advice or try to alter his well-thought out plans. Erik knew what he was doing, he didn't need anyones outside opinions.

Just mere hours ago, he had awoken from his slumber. Heavy eyes and a cloudy mind. Erik felt ill despite the heart-shaped herbs enhancing abilities, but a weak mind makes a weak man.

In his previous dream, Fari mentioned that he appeared smaller as if the large man had lost mass.

Though he didn't want to admit it, his clothing fitting him loosely was more than enough proof. Even his weight lifting seemed more rigid than normal.

This ailment only began to occur since he stopped visiting you.

Erik decided to visit the king's personal doctor.

"My king, this is not much of a physical problem." She explained, shifting a braid behind her small ear. "Nor is it something I can fix."

His dark eyes narrowed at her, as he did to the she-panther.

"Ain't that your job?" Erik gibed at the doe-eyed doctor.

Ignoring him, she proceeds, "Have you been to the ancestral plane lately?" He only nods hesitantly. "Then that means you are near your soulmate and you must find her quickly."

"Or?"

"Or you both will perish." She explained in a soft tone, avoiding his eyes.

He couldn't believe his ears. The king wanted to think she was fooling him, as was the servant girl, Anathi. But as he could feel himself grow more weak, choices were limited in believing what was true or false.

"Who am I?" Erik asked the members of the room. His pacing stopped, back facing them.

The princess was not there to list every one of his titles as she did on their first encounter.

"Hm?" He turned around, arms crossed over his scarred chest.

Everyone was afraid to speak up, expecting him to lash out as he'd usually do.

"You are the king." W'Kabi spoke up proudly, his wife eyeing him callously.

He chuckled, "Then why do I feel like y'all still not getting it? I ask questions and I get bullshit responses."

"My king, we are being very honest with you." Anathi had voiced.

"Lying would be pointless and would not benefit anyone." An elder added.

"Y'all keep giving me the runaround. I ask about that girl, and you're telling me shit about a fairy tail?" The volume of his voice grew.

Some of the members had rolled their eyes in secrecy.

It always came down to the sleeping girl. Maybe it was time they encouraged him to see if he was the real connection.

"Would you like to try and awaken her, King N'Jadaka?" One of the elders suggested.

Okoye almost stepped out of line to dismiss the proposal, silencing herself as she realized that sacrificing her position in protecting Wakanda would've been a grave mistake.

She had made a promise to T'Challa prior to his battle, that no matter what, he could entrust her to protect you regardless of his outcome. But what could she really do now?

Besides, a man like him could never be the one for you.

Why are you still hesitating, N'Jadaka? Fari had questioned him again in his slumber. What is it that is holding you back?

"If I knew I would tell you." He frowned at her.

You have always been a man of action.

"You don't know nothing about me."

I know a lot more than you think, Young Prince.

"I'm not a prince, I'm a king."

Oh?

The panther appeared much taller than him, as did the tall grass. Her golden eyes shined brightly, rivalling the moon.

Erik looked onto himself, a much smaller frame appearing before his very eyes.

"What did you-" He held his neck, shocked at the pre-pubescent voice that came from his throat.

It is not what I did, N'Jadaka. She leaped back into the tree, resting her head onto her paws. Time is ticking, Young Prince.

Erik rose out of his sleep in a cold sweat, glancing into the mirror to check that he wasn't the eight-year old boy from Oakland, but the man who he grew to be.

The bathroom tile was cold underneath his bare feet, but the hot water soothed his tense muscles. Fari's words ran through his mind as the water cascaded down his large frame.

He shook his head and chucked, intentionally she had called him a child without words.

Sneaky panther...

"I ain't a fuckin' kid no more." Erik silently spoke to himself.

Erik waltzed into the garden where the heart-shaped herb once grew, now replaced with other greens and flowers. Anathi was tending to a patch of peace lilies along side her grandmother.

"Yo." He called out, their attention turning onto him.

Anathi raised from her dirtied knees, dusting them off. "My King?"

"Follow me." Erik commanded, turning on heel his immediately. I hope you're watching me now, Fari.

The young girl's feet shuffled quickly towards the king, not wanting to anger him as he'd been so tense lately.

The walk was silent, she carefully watched Erik in case he were to try anything. Their strolls usually consisted of him nagging her, but this time he remained silent, dark eyes focused on the corridor ahead of him.

She couldn't be at ease because it felt as though he was still on guard, but he hadn't even glanced at the girl since leaving the garden.

Anathi had recognized the path he'd taken, one that lead to the room located underneath the sunroof.

His hands rested on the handles, pausing before looking over his shoulder. "You said a kiss should work, right?"

"Y-yes, your highness." She nodded, hands clasped together.

"You do realize what'll happen if it fails." He threatened with a low voice, almost a snarl.

Anathi bit her lower lip before nodding once again, "Y-yes."

An amused sound silently came from his throat before pulling on the golden handles. It was always like a fresh of breath air once the doors opened. The air was so pure, feeling like a hug to his nostrils when he inhaled.

As Erik approached, his eyes fell onto your frame, too appearing smaller and slightly frail. This time, the palace servants had your curls styled into flat twists, pinned up into a bun. One of their daughters had crafted a flower crown and laid it around your head.

Anathi had remained outside, planning on her escape. This could be her chance to have a possible head start in case all failed.

Erik gently ran the back of his hand down your face, the beating in his heart increased, and that nagging feeling that he would compare to a raging sea became calm.

This would finally be the moment of truth...

His deft fingers lifted your chin, bringing your lips closer to his until they had finally touched together.

It felt... like... nothing?

Not exactly sure why, but Erik had expected a feeling of electricity to shoot through his body. He had expected his soulmate to spring awake, deepening the kiss to solidify the truth. But this was real life, not a damn fairy tail.

It wasn't magical nor did it feel like anything truly happened. Your body still felt lifeless, but the beating of your heart indicated otherwise. Not even a little sound indicating that you were soon going to awaken was given to him.

What Erik wanted, Erik never got.

That made the man very angry. He slowly released and departed from you, fiery eyes looking onto Anathi whose knees were visibly shaking.

It didn't work...

The only three words replaying through his head as he aggressively approached the servant girl, fingers digging into her shoulder. She silently winced, wishing that she had ran as she had planned earlier.

They must take me for a joke.

He summoned another meeting calling everyone in.

You want something to laugh at, oh imma fuckin' give it to y'all.

By time they had arrived to the throne room, all members were there, silently watching as he dragged the girl and tossed her to the centre of the floor.

Her grandmother helplessly watched, fearing for her grandchild's life.

"Y'all like to tell lies, huh? That apart of Wakandan culture?" He accused, arms folded over his chest. "Hm? You like to make niggas look like idiots?"

The members were quiet, uncertain of what had happened.

"She still asleep!" Erik shouted loudly, some of the members had jolted.

"M-my king, we did not say that you were the chosen one." A woman from the river tribe reasoned. "Only the one who is the chosen shall know."

Erik's eyes cut sharply onto the woman, "What?" He seethed.

Her hands squeezed onto the man beside her, as the look in his eyes were terrifying.

This pent up rage was both confusing and extremely concerning to everyone. This woman he had never met before had driven his emotions through the roof, even more so than T'Challa had done.

Calm down, N'Jadaka. Fari counselled in his mind.

The king was terribly angry. I'll show you calm.

"I think we need some new rules." He declared, nodding. "A lie for a life? I think that's fair."

Still silent, the members had looks of disapproval. Not that Erik was looking for an outside opinion, he was sick of being lied to and played around with. Maybe they could try that with T'Challa, but whatever he decided, it was finite.

Erik approached Anathi, lifting her from the cold ground in one hand. Her breathing was constricted as his grasp around her neck was tight.

Smaller hands beat on his with no avail, her consciousness slowly slipping further and further away.

"This is what y'all want?! Huh?!" Erik taunted the horrified and helpless members.

Would you really kill a child, Young Prince?

Shut the fuck up! He wanted to scream at Fari.

No longer was he going to allow her to treat him like a child.

Tears streamed down Anathi's puffy cheeks, rolling onto his hand and between each finger. Quiet cries came from her grandmother who was being consoled by those around her.

Erik callously watched the life force being drained from the girl.

"Stop!" A new voice had emerged into the air.

Audible gasps flooded the room, Erik too was caught off guard, releasing Anathi to fall onto the ground.

He turned around, knees almost buckling at the sight in front of him.

"She lives." Okoye rejoiced with a rare smile on her face.

You stood there, staring at the new man you had never seen before, but oddly enough it felt as if you had known him for a much longer time than reality said.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, standing tall and strong. Though he had one of your best friends in a vice grip, it was almost impossible to be truly angry at him.

The astounded look in his eyes captivated you, drawing you closer and closer.

Only mere moments ago were his eyes filled with wrath, something that you would never see.

Who is he?

Erik had stared you down, feeling frozen in time as you drew closer to not him, but the girl on the ground.

"Anathi, ingaba ulungile (are you alright)?" Your hands gently touched the young girl, disturbed by the bruise forming around her neck.

"Uvukile (you are awake)." She hoarsely voiced in amazement.

It hadn't felt that long for you personally, but it certainly was for those who were still staring at you in complete shock.

You stood up to get a better look at the stranger who had almost taken the poor girl's life, and for what?

"Ungubani (who are you)?" You sternly inquired, poking at his chest sharply.

A spark had zapped you, both of you recoiling.

Erik had received that fairy tail shock he was initially expecting, but what no one else expected was the smile that grew on his face for the first time ever, a genuine one. 

"So you are my soulmate?"

"And you are mine." Erik said.

It took a lot of time for him to explain his initial reason for coming to Wakanda, and how he had not expected to find his soulmate locked away and trapped under a spell.

"If you are king, then that must mean-"

Erik nodded.

This would be the hard part to explain, but whatever happens, soulmate bonds were strong and could never be broken.

Processing your emotions over T'Challa's death was both confusing and hard. You wanted to be upset, you wanted to cry, you wanted to be mad, but none of the emotions came to pass. 

Sure it had been a long time since you fell under the spell, but you certainly did not expect your Prince Charming to also be the new ruler and murderer of King T'Challa.

Weeks passed and Erik had spent his time courting and getting to know you. It was all incredibly flattering, but alas, T'Challa still ran through your mind.

He was suppose to marry you, and you would give him an heir.

But all was changed once this American man had stepped his foot onto the Wakanda soil.

Erik slept soundly in the large canopy bed, his large arms wrapped behind his head. You remained awake, thinking about the previous king, the princess and the queen.

Vengeance.

You pondered, soulmate bonds cannot be permanent. If I sever his ties to the earth, I can be set free.

A knife laid tucked underneath the bed.

It was now or never.

Without leaving the bed, your hand slid against the marble floor, feeling for the weapon. The sharp edge pricked your index finger slightly indicating its location, so you raise it from the floor cautiously.

The man remained fast asleep, as peaceful as ever.

Your legs went on either side of Erik, careful not to sit down on him, the knife was pointed straight to his heart. Tiny droplets of blood dripped from your finger and onto his chest.

If I really love T'Challa I will do this for him. 

One breath in and the knife went down swiftly, eyes closed.

The problem was, there was no separation of tissue, no splatter of blood, no pained groaned.

Your eyes had opened, staring into the ones that captivated you earlier. They were void of anger or fear, but rather filled with bewilderment.

His much stronger hands squeezed arounds yours softly, holding the knife mere millimetres from penetrating his chest.

His hips bucked, flipping you over, knocking the knife away. The positions had switched as he was now on top, trapping your hands above your head.

"Y-you killed him!" The outburst had come from you, breaking the silence.

Immediately knowing who this was about, Erik explained. "It was ritual combat, he agreed to the conditions."

There was no resentment in his tone, it was so delicate and caring.

"I loved him."

"Yes, you loved him. But honestly tell me now, do you still love him?"

"I do." A fast response, with no chance to think. It was a lie.

"Then why do you lie in this bed with me?" He questioned, eyes peering deep into yours. "Why does my heart beat so calmly when you're around?"

"That is only you." You argued.

"Every time I touch you, I feel something." He placed his hand just above your bosom. "I know you feel it too."

You did, just then too. The way he was looking at you only made you want him even more.

But T'Challa...

An unresolved battle persisted in your mind.

"You're the reason I can't show you all I can give. You still holding onto the nigga who couldn't even wake you up, baby."

Bottom lip pulled between teeth, you tried to look away, but could not.

"Do you love him?"

As much as you wanted to scream yes, it wouldn't happen. It was a lie.

Was it fear? Uncertainty?

"Why you so hesitant, (y/n)?" Erik was surprised to find himself asking you the same question Fari had asked him all that time ago.

Your eyes had looked away, confronting the situation felt like betrayal to T'Challa.

"If you don't want me, tell me to leave."

You could not.

You wanted him, needed him to be here with you.

"I ain't believe it at first, but this soulmate shit is real..."

"But T'Challa-"

"Did nothing..."

You stared at the king silently, resisting him would be next to impossible. The glow of the moon enhancing his features beautifully.

"Ask me to leave." He demanded once again.

"I-I can't... I need you."

Three words Erik was delighted to hear.

Your head lifted to capture his lips between yours. Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. Erik spread your hands apart, wrapping his fingers between yours to deepen the kiss. Your head rested back against the plush comforter, tingles coursing through each body. He detached for air, giving you the chance as well before claiming your soft lips again. He came in hungrier, more passionate than the first time, unclasping his fingers from your left hand and raising your neck.

His thick lips latched onto your neck, sucking against the skin. The warm scent of vanilla filled his nose pleasantly, the taste sweet against his tongue.

Moans escaped your mouth as he precisely worked his lips around your frame. Now resting above your breasts, Erik gazes into your eyes for approval, in which you granted him.

The long silk garment was removed from your body, revealing a pair breast and erect nipples waiting to be licked. His large hand grasps the right as his head moves to the left, latching onto it hungrily.

Your fingers run over his head, holding them as he skillfully attended to your breasts. Soft moans filled his ears, encouraging him to continue.

He detached, sliding down even further where a wet patch had exposed you.

A smirk graced his lips as he pealed the blue panties away from your body.

Erik positioned himself between your thighs, bending your legs up and over to allow him better access to your dripping core.

He trailed kisses on each thigh before placing one onto your centre. A shiver coursed through your body as he increased the intensity with his tongue.

Experience wouldn't even be the best word to describe his precision.

The moans that were leaving your body were no longer quiet and sultry, rather loud and desperate. Your fingers grabbed his dreads as his tongue continued its assault onto your clit. The further Erik pushed his tongue in, the louder your volume grew.

Pressure continuously built up inside of your core, and shortly after, you had released onto him. There was a lot, nothing that you were expecting.

"Damn, baby." He marvelled with a wet jaw. Erik stood up to remove his bottoms.

The monster growing in his pants sprung free, bobbing slightly and menacingly at you.

But suddenly you had realized something.

I'm a virgin...

Erik noticed the change in your eyes, it appeared more like fear than anything. And not the 'there's no way it's gonna fit' fear.

"What's wrong?"

"I... I've never done this before."

He chuckled, grateful that he would be your first. "That ain't no problem. I got you, baby."

Shyly nodding, you lie back down with a shaky breath. His hands hook underneath your knees, bending them towards your chest. He lubricates his member against your folds before coating it with a hand.

He watched you, watching him. "Don't tense up on me."

You nod again, watching him move closer until it poked at your entrance. A sharp exhale left your mouth as he pushed in slightly.

"Just breathe, you good." Erik coaxes you. Your hands find the bedsheets, nails digging firmly into them.

His member breached even deeper, causing a pained sound to leave your lips. He slows down, giving you time to adjust.

"O-okay, go." You stuttered, allowing him to fit the rest in.

He pressed down slowly but firmly, letting out a moan of his own.

"This shit so tight." He groaned in pleasure, bitting his lower lip.

Ocne he had bottomed, a spark coursed through both his and your veins. It felt as though an even deeper connection had been made, solidifying the meaning of soulmate bonds.

Erik's hips moved backward, removing some of the pressure off of your cervix, but it came back as soon as he moved again.

"Ungh- shit." You winced, trying to manage the strokes.

He continued a slow pace, just for you to adjust. It wasn't going to be a purely pleasurable experience, especially not for the first time, but it wasn't all painful either.

When you finally relaxed his pace increased, thrusts moving more efficiently in and out of you.

"N'Jadaka, ohhh!" You whimpered, eyes shut, body bouncing underneath him.

He admired you underneath the moonlight. Eyes closed, eyebrows narrowed, mouth ajar. The moans, your voice, all so pleasing to him.

She is beautiful.

His lips moved back onto your neck as he forced his hips against yours. Juices mixing with each other, adding to the sounds of heavy breathing and moaning.

Erik had you in multiple positions, each one causing a different sensation. He had you flat on your stomach, his feet planted on the ground, Erik had sloppily thrusted into you until the both of your climaxes were achieved.

Tears rested on your cheek, air flowed in and out heavily as your tried to catch your breath. Sore, but very satisfied.

He pulled you against his body. Sweat moistened your skins, and despite your fatigue, Erik looked ready for another round.

Had to be the effects of the heart-shaped herb.

The intense feeling in each body had finally settled steadily, a deeper connection had been formed and you both knew for certain that soulmate bonds were real. A man who came and caused an uproar brought both dark and light onto the Wakandan nation.

He brought your knuckles against his lips. "My queen, I am yours and you are mine."

"My king, and my soulmate." You contently responded, awaiting all that was to come in the near future.

I am so happy I finally finished part 2 (the final part) to Sleeping Beauty. It's literally been 2 years LOL!

I hope you enjoyed, especially for those who requested!

(Start/Finish: March 31 - April 1, 2020)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

[softsnzstuff]

Doctors Make the Worst Patients

No one asked for this but enjoy 1.6k of sick Doctor!Eddie and caring Nurse!Steve.

Summary: Eddie isn’t feeling too hot but refuses to admit that doctors can get sick too. Enter caring!steve stage left when he catches Eddie trying to strep test himself in the staff bathroom.

CW: mentions of nausea/gagging - No actual throwing up

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

“Hey are you okay?”

Eddie pushed the rotini around the plate with his fork.

“Earth to Eddie…”

“Hmm? Oh sorry.” He looked up when he realized Steve was talking to him. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you’re okay. You seem off. I thought chicken parm was your favorite.” Steve nodded at the plate.

“It is. And it’s great! I’m just not very hungry tonight.”

Steve let the silence marinate for a minute until Eddie elaborated, “I’m pretty tired I guess.”

“I’m sorry. We could call it a night early. Let you sleep a little more.” Steve offered.

“That sounds nice.” Eddie murmured. He looked up at Steve, “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

The two had begun hanging out outside of work recently, usually dinner and a movie or tv show on certain days. Eddie felt bad ending this one early. He was looking forward to this all week.

As Steve cleared the plates, Eddie pulled on his jacket and slipped on his shoes. “Sorry again. Next week at mine?”

“You got it, doc.” Steve smiled, letting his counterpart out of his apartment. He was a little disappointed that the evening didn’t go exactly to plan but he really just hoped Eddie was back to himself soon.

What Eddie didn’t tell Steve is that he wasn’t just tired. He was exhausted. He’d felt off all day but now he just felt bad. His whole body ached down to his bones, limbs felt heavy, and within the last hour or so he’d developed chills.

When he got back to his place, he all but collapsed into bed after changing clothes. He pulled the blankets right around himself trying to get warm, eventually falling into a restless sleep.

---

When his alarm went off at 5:30am, Eddie tried to groan, immediately regretting the decision. He winced in pain and grabbed at his throat. It felt like he’d swallowed hot knives. Grimacing, he got up and headed to the bathroom.

He pulled his thermometer out of his medicine cabinet and popped it in his mouth while he took in his reflection in the mirror - pale, flushed, pained. After a minute or so, he huffed a sigh at the thermometer reading and turned on his shower, colder than normal to try and bring his temp down a bit.

When he got out, he gripped the edges of the sink and hovered for a moment, hit by a sudden wave of nausea. He swallowed, but even that hurt. Instead of his usual jeans and button up, he opted for comfy green scrubs today. At least he could be somewhat comfortable.

A quick glance at his phone told him he was running behind schedule - he’d have to forgo his morning coffee - a decision he was okay with since he couldn’t swallow anyways.

A fifteen minute drive later, he was pulling up to the clinic, up and running already courtesy of Robin. The bell chimed above his head as he walked in and made his way to his office. He sat at his desk and powered on his computer, taking a brief moment to rest his head on the table.

“Hey doc, drug rep is wondering if you could sign this really fast-” Robin walked through the open door holding an iPad.

Eddie looked up from his folded arms. “Are you…okay?” She asked, approaching him cautiously. “I can uh…I’ll just ask Nancy, it’s fine.”

“No no,” he winced, “I’ll sign it, give it here.”

Eddie held his hand out and Robin hesitantly handed him the iPad explaining which drug he was signing for.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem look really pale.” She reached out a hand to his forehead, but he brushed it away quickly.

“Don’t worry about me, birdie. Doctors don’t get sick remember?” He offered a weak excuse of a smile to reassure her.

“Whatever you say.” She shrugged and headed back to her desk, Eddie dropping the ‘I’m Fine’ gimmick immediately.

It was only a few minutes later that Steve was telling him the first patient was ready for him. He squeezed his eyes shut as he stood and composed himself before entering the exam room.

---

The hours moved like molasses. He’d seen five patients already, but they all seemed like a blur. His throat was killing him. The pain was almost blinding. He could feel that his tonsils were swollen, and was surprised no one had really commented on it except Nancy, who had questioned why he was talking so quietly.

Finally it was noon, Nancy always took lunch in her car, and Robin and Steve had just left the building to pick up sandwiches, asking if Eddie wanted anything. He had said no, just to get them out for a while.

Once he was sure they’d left the building he went into exam room 3 and pulled out a rapid strep test, taking it into the staff bathroom. He set the testing cassette and dropper on the counter before peeling open the swab.

Looking closely in the mirror, he stuck his tongue out and opened his mouth, hesitating. Even as a child he hated these stupid tests. He moved the swab closer to the back of his throat and gagged, coughing.

The coughing tore at his throat and he grimaced as he went to try again. He resumed his position in front of the mirror trying again, faster this time, but gagged still, pulling the swab out without getting a good sample.

A knock on the door startled him, “Fuck!”

“Eddie? Are you throwing up??” It was Steve.

“No I’m-” he gagged again.

“I’m coming in okay.” The door handle twisted and Steve stepped inside, “Forgot my wallet and then I heard you.”

Steve took in the sight in front of him, Eddie holding the swab in one hand, wrist in front of his mouth with the other. His gaze shifted to the counter where he saw the rapid strep test.

“I knew you seemed off last night! You think you have strep?”

“Pretty sure but have to do the test.” He whispered.

Steve pouted his lips and smiled, “Here, let me help you, dummy.”

Steve took a step forward, carefully taking the swab from Eddie, only touching the stick end of it. He pulled out his phones flashlight and turned it on with his other hand.

“Back up against the wall, I don’t want you to pull away.” Steve hummed.

“Pinning me against the staff bathroom wall? Kinky even for you Steve.”

Steve blushed intensely, “Open wide and say ahhh, Munson.”

Eddie did as told and Steve shined the flashlight in Eddie’s throat as he quickly and methodically swabbed both of Eddie’s tonsils, pulling the swab out quickly as the older man gagged again.

Steve unscrewed the vial of liquid with one hand, clearly having done this before. He squeezed three drops into the cassette and then placed the cotton end of the swab into the hole of the cassette as well.

“Gonna take about ten minutes, but I’m pretty sure it’s gonna come back positive.” Steve said, washing his hands, “I should take your temperature too, you probably have a fever.”

“Was a little over 101 this morning.” He rubbed at his throat.

“Eddie…”

“I know, I know.”

“Go lay down in the sicky sick room, you’re probably contagious anyways. I’ll wait for your test results and tell Robin to get sandwiches without me.”

“M’kay.” Eddie was a lot of things but Steve had never seen him look so defeated as he trudged off to their quarantine room.

Steve ran out the back door up to Robin’s car. She rolled down the window. “How long does it take one Dingus to find his wallet?” She asked, pointing at her watch.

“Sorry Robin, pretty sure Eddie’s got strep. You can grab lunch without me, I’m waiting for his rapid test.”

“I knew he was sick! Medical shows have taught me well.” She exclaimed. “I’ll bring you back your usual. Take good care of your boy!”

“He’s not my- whatever.”

Robin reversed as Steve headed back inside looking at his watch. It was just about time. As expected, the cassette revealed two lines, control and test, meaning Eddie was in fact positive for strep. Steve sighed and disposed of the test in their bio waste bin, washing his hands again.

When he poked his head into the quarantine exam room, Eddie was laying on the exam table, one arm draped over his eyes. “Bad news Eds…”

“It’s positive?” Came a mumbled response.

“It is. I’ll have Nance send you some penicillin and I’ll tell Robin to reschedule your patients for tomorrow and the rest of today.”

“That’s so much work for her!” Eddie protested. He sat up and buried his face in his hands.

“It’s okay, they’ll understand! Doctors may not get sick but rockstars do. If it were Billy’s patients on the other hand….” He teased, nudging Eddie’s shoulder.

That got a small smile out of the older of the two. Steve helped him off the table and walked with him towards the back door. “Get some rest today. Take your pills. I’ll swing by tomorrow with some special tea for you, hmm?”

Eddie nodded, “Okay. Thanks Steve.”

Before he could stop himself, Eddie was leaning in for a hug, forgetting he was still contagious. For a moment, Steve hugged him back, not caring at all.

#doctors office au #doctor!eddie #pa!nancy #receptionist!robin #nurse!steve #s/tranger t/hings #e/ddie m/unson #s/teve h/arrington #kb writes #kb au’s #fruity 4 #just for fun

[electricbluebutterflies]

Jess/Leto + “i don’t know what you want from me.”

How these babes became my primary comfort / fluff ship, I have no idea. PG-ish and early-era. Usual queued-crosspost fun / also on ao3

He knows what will happen years before it does.

Knew from the moment he saw her, really, though he’ll never admit that to anyone. There was just something about her, beautiful and powerful and tragic as all of her order are but… something about her, something he couldn’t pin at the time, was different. Defiant in her eye contact, in her body that has been chosen to make him weak in ways that she herself could never be. At the time he wouldn’t have described himself as a romantic, but…

A few years have passed, and she remains cold and serpentine, and every day the affection deepens.

He knows the legends and rumors about what she is – respected but not trusted, extent of powers unknown to any man, to be given one of them is a mixed blessing and every day since what had amounted to a warning he has been cautious. No way to prevent what could be done, but he tries, he finds peace in consistency and…

A few years in, he is starting to suspect that she’s holding back around him.

It would be tempting to assume something is wrong with her, defective or less powerful than most of her kind, pawned off on him as a distraction for him and punishment for her. The punishment part is probably more accurate than anyone will ever admit, but… differently, not because there is anything wrong with that woman but because she is everything that could be feared given her past, because she is-

She has… done things, these past years. That is all he will ever want to know. He has chosen to trust her, to not know where she wanders in the middle of the night, to not ask when things happen that line up with her more likely skills. And this is real, he is sure of it, this boundary that will make them strong. Never discussed, never-

He trusts her, and that is not a bad starting point for everything else. For getting used to the sight of her first thing in the morning, how she keeps her body perfectly still if she wakes up first, the fearlessness of her as she learns to allow familiarity, as she-

There is time for this, for playing with her hair like she only tolerates when she’s not fully awake, for enjoying in the most innocent ways. For wondering if, perhaps, there is a way to go forward and not lose her.

It would be easier this way. He’s known for months – on some level since a week since she came here, in the deepest part of his heart since the first moment he put his hands on her, but the volume has gotten louder recently. Easier to try to have a life with her, with this woman he is trying to know and who sees right through him, than to tolerate some…

Status means one cannot marry for love. He leads a planet; the best he has ever hoped for is to be able to avoid the issue entirely, to wait out storms and find every reason not to make such an alliance, to be polite but distant when that luck runs out. So far so good. But what if…

Anything that could be done would have to be slow, careful, and not legally binding levels of formality. But it is not impossible. A perfect idea in early-morning light, nothing to rush into – nothing he could rush into – but at least worth discussing, at least-

“You’re too in your head,” his partner says, face still buried in a pillow and clearly no desire to move. “I can feel it. Something’s wrong.”

He loves how direct she is when something’s on her mind, proof enough that he has made her feel safe. Fearless and comfortable and a little impulsive, he’s not so sure about that last bit just yet but she could be, she could-

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says just a little too quickly.

She turns her head just in time for him to see her roll her eyes – she is not a morning person, he is well aware, and she was out doing something last night and he suspects she barely sleeps even when she’s not occupied by shadow work, but even allowing for those factors she looks distinctly unimpressed right now. Her default mood, he thinks sometimes, but there’s something that might almost be affection in it and-

“Let me help, then. Whatever weight you carry…”

Not weight but the absence of it, he wants to say, this beautiful realization that there may be solutions to all of their problems, a way to keep her close if…

“Are you happy here?” With me, he wants to say but won’t, won’t add any pressure to what is already a tightrope, won’t-

“It doesn’t matter how I feel.” So much conviction in her voice – she has bloomed, but not enough, not enough to erase a past he could never untangle, not-

“It does to me.”

She is quiet for a few moments, quiet as she changes her position and takes his hands under the blankets. This is progress, at least; there have been times she didn’t initiate touch for weeks but melted whenever he reached out, and he knows he will never understand her and never stop wanting to, and-

“I am,” she says, voice too soft but at least she’s looking at him. “I just… I don’t know what you want from me sometimes.”

Everything, he’d say if he were a braver man, if he were half the person the outside world thinks he is. Everything she is would be enough. Every night of their lives with bodies tangled up, every formal occasion made easier with her there in finery to fixate on and anchor to, every one of her abilities and talents used in their favor, a deep appreciation for how she speaks damage control like one of her many dialects, the perfect faith he has that he is enough for her desires, a child that would add her stubbornness to the family traits…

It is this last thought that clarifies solutions, conscious for the first time. If she were the mother of his heir, and he at least has power enough to choose that regardless of what else he is forced to do politically, that would be a tethering that would be challenging to undo. Excuse enough to keep her close and treat her well, even if everything were to go sideways and she were not the only woman in his spaces, even if…

“Life,” he murmurs, because there are no other words. “Something to live for.”

She replies with a blank look, like this was not at all what she expected, tragic woman who has been assigned roles by everyone who’s ever known her and how many of those have ever fit right and how many have been like those horrific black dresses she insisted on wearing for all but the most formal occasions for the entire first year she was here, how many-

“And how would I do that?” she asks after a few heartbeats, and there is something almost like fear in her voice, something he never wants to hear again, confused and-

“Tether yourself,” he says, and he knows so little of what she is but the total control she has over her body has been proven enough in what time they have had. “No one could ignore you if I-“

“We wouldn’t survive the scandal.”

“We’ve survived everything else. A child wouldn’t-“

“You would take that risk? You would ruin yourself so easily?”

“Not ruination,” he murmurs, slipping a hand free to push her hair out of her face. “I want… I am allowed that choice and I want you. I want your strength and intelligence and-”

“You could do better.”

“It’s an idea. Just… think about it, alright?”

They have lingered enough; there is a day to take on, schedules that can still be maintained but not if he gets any more distracted. Enough to lean in for a heartbeat kiss before morning routines, an echo of hidden softness, and… now that the words have been said, now that the idea is in the air, he has never been more sure of anything. A solution to several problems, and damned near perfect, and-

“I think I understand you and then you go and suggest something like that,” she says, back turned to him as she slips a day dress over her head and oh it is not wrong to look and be reminded of her beauty.

“Isn’t that why I have you in the first place?”

“I’ll let you know if I ever figure that out,” and it’s almost a laugh, and this is how life begins, to be so delighted by each other, to be-

“You were saying you needed a project…”

“Letting me actually supervise those renovations would get me in less trouble.”

“Or you could multitask.”

“Or I could do that.”

#ebf writes fic #leto x jessica #queue

[wondernimbus]

two sworn enemies — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: there is only one thing worse than being hated by draco malfoy; it’s being fancied by him.

requests are closed for now! please refrain from plagiarizing my work.

After being on the receiving end of Malfoy's torment for four whole years at Hogwarts—a place where she's supposed to be making friends and learning and making the most out of all her youthful years—[Y/N] is beginning to grow tired.

The last thing she’s supposed to be worrying about is a snarky Slytherin boy who always has some sort of rude remark resting on his lips every time he comes across her in the corridors. Or anywhere, for that matter—Draco Malfoy's incessant jest seems to stay within no boundaries.

Eleven-year-old [Y/N] used to be fazed by it; she used to cry herself to sleep every time the platinum blond would push past her in the hallway, yelling out something offensive on his way, usually to do with her friendship with blood-traitors and the "big-headed" Harry Potter (or so Malfoy referred to him). She used to feel angry—angry enough to want to whip her wand out at him and hex him into oblivion every time he'd even as much as lay eyes on her. But the more Malfoy tried to bother her, the more it didn't anymore.

Fourth year wasn't so bad. Malfoy had already called her about a hundred nasty names at that point and was running out of them—his creativity was dwindling and [Y/N]'s concern along with it. She'd even laughed at him, one time during Transfiguration class—genuinely laughed, not out of frustration or anger but because she found something that he said to her funny.

"How does it feel being surrounded by blood-traitors and Mudbloods, [Y/L/N]? Pity you chose the wrong crowd to hang around."

"How did it feel to get punched by a girl, Malfoy? I hear Hermione packs quite a punch."

Malfoy’s nose had wrinkled into his signature sneer before he scoffed. "Tell Granger she can improve her right hook." At which point [Y/N] had snorted out a laugh—and yes, it wasn't a full-blown burst of chortles, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

Fifth year rolls around and Draco Malfoy is the least of [Y/N]'s worries. She's gotten over his nagging at this point; all his jabs have lost a bit, if not all of their luster.

But then a week after classes have started, Malfoy starts acting—weird. Very weird. [Y/N] has no idea what's gotten into him, but Draco's cruel insults seem to have veered off course and taken a very dramatic turn. He still yells at her in the hallways, but not to make some harmful jibe [Y/N] has heard thousands of times before. Instead Draco—yes, Draco Malfoy, the same boy who has never once failed to torment her in the past years they've known each other—has now made it a habit to yell pick-up lines. At her. At [Y/N]. At the same girl he's been bad-mouthing for the past four years.

The first time it happens, [Y/N] can't believe her ears. She thinks he's yelling at someone else other than her, because there is no way bloody Draco Malfoy is shouting "DO YOU PLAY QUIDDITCH? BECAUSE YOU SEEM LIKE A KEEPER" at her from halfway across the Great Hall.

But he's definitely staring at her, grinning widely in that conceited sort of way that [Y/N] has always despised.

"Is he talking to me?" [Y/N] asks Hermione, bewildered.

"Looks like it." Hermione looks just as surprised as her. "Knowing Malfoy, he's not up to anything good. Ignore him, [Y/N]."

But ignoring Draco Malfoy is not something [Y/N] is capable of; the feistiness in her makes sure of that. So instead of moving on and turning a blind eye, she cups her hands over her mouth and yells, just as loud, "ARE YOU A BLUDGER? BECAUSE I'D LOVE TO BASH A BEATER'S BAT INTO YOUR—"

Whatever Malfoy is up to, [Y/N] isn't entirely sure she's enjoying it. The next afternoon—also in the Great Hall, while [Y/N] is doing her homework instead of eating lunch (because Snape apparently thinks it's a good idea to ask for a four-page essay when the school year has barely even started), there's a thump and [Y/N] looks up to see that there's a little red envelope sitting on her empty plate. Looking even further up, she sees an owl flying away from the table and out of the roof of the Great Hall, where the owls always come from to deliver letters—although that only happens at breakfast. Which means this is from someone else, likely another student.

[Y/N] stares.

"It's a Howler," Harry says from next to her, like she doesn't already know.

"I'm aware," she mutters, narrowing her eyes at it before she sets down her quill to grab it.

"Who would send you a Howler?" Ron has looked up from where he'd been shoveling beans into his plate. He crowds into her space, peering at the envelope she now holds in her hands; and she can't really answer him, because only her name is scribbled across the front in handwriting she doesn't recognize. Whoever sent it to her didn't bother with writing their own name.

She hesitates, brows furrowed as she, too, wonders where it's from. Her parents don't have a reason to send her a Howler—unless she's done something wrong that she isn't aware of. But it's only been a week since school has started and as far as she can tell, she hasn't done anything worthy of being sent a Howler. Or at least not yet.

"Might as well," she sighs—it's going to deliver its message one way or the other, anyway, and [Y/N] prefers to open it herself than have it burst into flames, rain ashes down upon her homework, and then start talking—so she opens the envelope.

The Howler jumps to life in front of her, hovering in front of her face, and [Y/N] has never seen a piece of stationery look so angry before. A forked tongue slips out of the envelope—[Y/N] braces herself for the worst, despite not knowing who on earth might have sent it—until a familiar voice booms around the Great Hall.

"ARE YOU A BASILISK? BECAUSE WHEN I SAW YOU, I FROZE."

Ron's shoulders automatically start shaking with laughter. Most of the Great Hall—or at least the ones close enough to hear the Howler—have turned around to watch the spectacle unfold, giggling behind their palms and pointing at [Y/N] like she can't see them. [Y/N], in the meantime, stares, completely dead to the world and everything else around her, because she knows that voice.

But then the Howler keeps talking. "IF YOU LET ME TAKE YOU ON A DATE, I CAN PROMISE YOU THINGS THOSE FILTHY PEASANTS CAN NEVER GIVE YOU."

The entire hall has fallen completely silent. [Y/N] feels her face burning up, but not with embarrassment—[Y/N] is angry. She feels it thrumming in her veins, curling around her lungs, clouding all of her senses.

With a single flick of [Y/N]'s wand, the Howler bursts into flames with a final feeble wheeze of I'm also a fairly good snogger. Ron is roaring with laughter and Harry has also joined in. Two-faced gits.

[Y/N] slams her palms down on the table and vaguely even registers the pain this gives her as she steps out from behind the bench and turns around to face the Slytherin table because of course she knows who sent the Howler. Of course she knows who would go out of his way to humiliate her in front of the entirety of Hogwarts, because that extremely irritating, maddeningly haughty voice can only belong to one person—and sure enough, the idiot in question is standing there on top of the benches, arms outstretched towards her and that proud, snooty look on his face like he expects her to actually be impressed.

Over Ron and Harry's laughter, [Y/N] shouts angrily, "Malfoy!"

Malfoy drops his arms to his sides, hops off the bench, and swaggers towards her. She meets him halfway—and when she does, she doesn't hesitate to shove him angrily by the shoulders. He stumbles back a little, but he's still grinning annoyingly wide. "Have you come to me bearing an answer?" he says, his tone mocking, and [Y/N] just barely suppresses herself from whipping out her wand and jabbing it somewhere she wouldn't want a wand anywhere near. They are still surrounded by teachers. "I imagine it's a yes—who would turn me down, after all—"

"Drop the fucking act," she hisses; all eyes are on them, because Hogwarts never passes up a chance for gossip, and this might be the most exciting one yet. Draco Malfoy publicly asking out the girl everyone knows he's hated, and has hated him, for a long time—what a spectacle. But [Y/N] knows that his intentions are far from genuine; this is just another way to humiliate her and get on her nerves. And as much as she hates to admit it, it's a pretty good fucking move, because she hasn't been this annoyed by him in a long time.

Her teeth are gritted together so hard her words barely come out coherent. "I don't know what you're playing at," she practically growls, taking a step closer to get in his face, "But I encourage you to get yourself together."

But Malfoy seems unaffected. "Pity you didn't let the Howler finish," he drawls, still with that same smirk on his lips as he wriggles his brows suggestively. "I could've told you more about my superior snogging skills."

"Which is exactly why I didn't," she fumes. "We're in the middle of lunch—any more of you talking about your 'superior snogging skills' and the entirety of this hall would've thrown up on themselves. I know I would've."

At this, the smile on Malfoy's face droops a little, a ghost of his familiar sneer seeping in. [Y/N] takes a step back away from him, because she can't stand being more than a few feet near the prat. "You've got a lot of nerve, pulling this," she scoffs. "Try it again and you'll regret it. Now excuse me while I go do my bloody homework."

And then she turns around, goes back to the Gryffindor table, and does her bloody homework.

—

But Malfoy, as it turns out, isn't as weak-willed as he lets on. She's started receiving Howlers every morning at breakfast, all of which burst into flames every time to rain ashes upon her innocent plate of eggs and toast, but only after loudly blurting out some ridiculously bad pick-up line. It's been four days since the first Howler and they've only gotten progressively worse ever since—"you must be a Boggart because I'm terrified of pretty women"—and [Y/N] is beginning to grow so very tired.

Today, she hexes him in the middle of the hallway just as he's coming out of Potions class. She had warned him, all those days ago, that he'd regret it if he didn't let up. So [Y/N] watches, terribly amused as Draco starts wailing in the corridor, his hands splayed over his face in a measly attempt to cover the sardines falling out of his nostrils. It's an irreversible hex—or at least for eight hours—but until then, Draco will have to deal with the tiny fishes that shoot out of his nose at random intervals. [Y/N] can't bring herself to feel bad, not when he's humiliated her time and time again in front of so many people.

No Howlers arrive the morning after. There's a sense of what feels like disappointment coming off of the Great Hall; some people have actually turned around in their seats to watch her in anticipation for an owl to come swooping down upon her bearing a red envelope. Unfortunately for them, it doesn't happen. [Y/N], meanwhile, is finally at peace.

Or at least until Ron jabs her in the side and goes, "So are you?" he's grinning. "A Boggart, I mean."

It's a reference to the Howler she received yesterday. Her movements are dangerously swift; immediately she smacks the back of his head, sending him into a complaining frenzy. She rolls her eyes. "Stupid Malfoy."

"As much as I hate to say this," Harry begins, "I kind of wish you hadn't hexed him into stopping. His pick-up lines were pretty funny."

"Ha!" [Y/N] points a finger at Harry and nods approvingly, laughing a little. "That's a good one, Harry."

Harry stares at her dead in the eye. "Oh, I wasn't joking."

Her face falls.

"I suppose being on the receiving end of Malfoy's affection isn't any better than being hated by him," says Hermione, offering [Y/N] a sympathetic smile. "It's a good thing you showed him not to mess with you any further, [Y/N]."

[Y/N] tries for a smile of her own, but it comes out all stiff and crooked. "I feel like the past few days have been a fever dream," she says, shuddering. "This new form of—bullying, I don't know—has just been so weird. The bad names I've gotten used to, but—the compliments? The pick-up lines?"

"D'you think he's gone off his rocker?" Ron suggests.

"Maybe he fancies you," says Hermione off-handedly.

The effect this has on the three is instantaneous; Ron, Harry, and [Y/N] simultaneously blanch as though they've all swallowed something sour at the same time. Ron is choking on a piece of toast and Harry has spit water everywhere.

"Absolutely not," [Y/N] is shaking her head, nose wrinkled in distaste. "He can't possibly—that's ridiculous. We've hated each other for years."

"Feelings do change," Hermione shrugs, rolling her eyes at Ron and Harry, who have yet to recover from their initial shock. "And besides, it was just a suggestion. Although I don't see why he'd go out of his way to send you Howlers repeatedly asking you out if he doesn't fancy you."

"Because he wants to humiliate me in front of everyone!"

"Oh, alright, alright," Hermione sighs, sensing her defeat. "But you never know."

Ron has gathered his bearings once more. He turns to Hermione, genuine concern flooding his features, and blubbers, "Did I hear you right? Malfoy—fancying [Y/N]?"

"Yes, Ronald." Another eye-roll. "It's not that outlandish. Boys are boys—even Malfoy."

"Merlin's beard," he slumps down in his seat, shaking his head. "I don't think I've ever been this surprised. Not since I heard that Percy managed to score himself a girlfriend, and that was three years ago."

A few days pass, and while no more Howlers arrive, Malfoy is still as insistent as ever in his attempts to "woo" her—or, well, whatever it is he's trying to do. [Y/N] doesn’t quite know what to call it anymore; for some reason, it no longer feels like an attempt to bully or humiliate her. It's not as though he's insulting her, and it's not like her reputation is in any way being lessened. In fact, most of Hogwarts, it seems, enjoys the so-called "love-hate relationship" they've got going on, and expects them to get together sometime in the near future.

[Y/N] learns all of this from Fred and George, who are always a good source of gossip.

"What better love story than two sworn enemies falling in love?" George gushes, clasping his hands together.

"So romantic," Fred sings, closing his eyes and swaying his hips as though listening to a sultry tune only he can hear. “Setting aside their differences to answer the call of their hearts."

"Oh, Malfoy's still an arse, of course."

"But it's still romantic."

Part of [Y/N] wishes that the twins hadn’t told her that, because it makes it all the more confusing on her part. If, by some miracle, Malfoy does fancy her—what is she supposed to do? Ride off with him into the sunset? They are enemies—they have been for four, supposedly five years now, except this year Malfoy is being an insufferable twat who won't stop yelling pick-up lines at her in the hallways.

[Y/N] decides to turn a blind eye on him. If she ignores him for long enough, he's bound to stop.

Right?

—

Despite being a close friend to the famous Harry Potter, [Y/N] can say she’s made a name for herself at school that stretches far beyond just that girl who hangs out with the Chosen One. She’s been playing for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for two years and has contributed to some of the house’s most fantastic wins as a Chaser, and she’s also a fairly good student. She may have a penchant for trouble-making, but she knows how to limit herself. She prides herself for her work ethic and thus her grades are above average—enough for her to earn the favor of most of her teachers and for eager first-years to sometimes come up to her asking for help doing homework.

But enough for those very same first-years to come up to her in the hallway ready to do all of her biddings for the day, practically demanding her to hand over her books so that they can carry them for her? No. Certainly not. [Y/N] may have made a name for herself, but definitely not one renowned enough to earn the eleven-year-olds now crowded around her moments after she steps out of potions class, telling her that, “We’re here at your disposal! If you need us to do anything, just say the word!”

[Y/N] stares at the three children clustered around her, all wide-eyed and for some reason incredibly eager for her to start bossing them around.

Taken aback, she ushers them into a corner; the hallway is busy and people will keep bumping into them if they stay in the middle of the hallway like that.

Once away from the bustling main corridor, she bends down a little so that she’s at eye-level with all of them. “At my disposal?” she repeats, eyes narrowing playfully. “What do you mean?”

“We’re here to carry your books for you or grab you snacks from the kitchens or tie your shoelaces if you need us to!” one of them exclaims, bouncing on his toes.

Alright—this is getting ridiculous. [Y/N] pauses, lips pressed together into a thin line as she stares at each one of the first-years in turn; all three of them are staring at her as though waiting for her to start asking them to do push-ups.

She inhales. Someone must have put them up to this, because there is no way these children woke up this morning and simultaneously decided to become her servants for the day.

“Well,” she begins, smiling at them—and good grief, did she really look that young when she was eleven? “Thank you for offering to help me. I appreciate it, really—but lucky for me I’ve got some very capable arms and I think I can handle tying my shoelaces and carrying my books around and whatnot. But again—thank you. You’re all very nice.”

She pauses to look at their reactions; the smiles on their faces have drooped a little as they turn to one another, seemingly at a loss for words. “But,” the one girl says, frowning, “We’re supposed to help you.”

[Y/N] raises her eyebrows. “Supposed to?”

Someone definitely put them up to this—[Y/N] is certain of it now. And she has a good guess as to who.

She starts by saying, tone gentle, “Did someone tell you to do this? Because that’s really kind, and I’d love to thank them.”

The girl bunches up her lips in thought, shuffling her feet against the ground. “We’re not supposed to say,” she mutters, glancing at the two boys next to her nervously.

[Y/N] inhales. She needs confirmation, so she crouches down so that she’s the same height as them, and offers them all the friendliest, most trustworthy smile she can muster. The kind that wins over eleven-year-olds. “You won’t get in trouble if you tell me,” she tells them gently, and waits for them to nod in understanding before she goes, “Was it Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?”

They don’t have to respond—the looks on their faces are enough confirmation. [Y/N] suppresses the urge to roll her eyes, because of course Malfoy is the kind of person to somehow get first-years to do something like this. And she’s pretty sure it has something to do with bribery.

“Did he promise to give you anything, maybe?” [Y/N] presses on patiently.

The girl leans in and cups her hand over her mouth to whisper excitedly, “Chocolate frogs. Five for each of us.”

Ah. Of course. [Y/N] sighs inwardly and nods, standing up properly to once more tower over the tiny first-years. As much as she would love to have her own personal butlers, there is absolutely no way she is agreeing to take any part in exploiting these young kids. So she ruffles all of their hair in turn and promises to give them much, much more chocolate frogs than Malfoy will ever be able to offer if they swear to ignore him for the rest of their lives.

So she stands there in the hallway, a minute late for Transfiguration, watching the three first-years skip down the hallway, grinning excitedly to themselves—no doubt because they’ve just been promised what could be an infinite supply of chocolate frogs.

Which [Y/N] will now have to spend a lump of her summer savings on. Great. Bloody fantastic.

She didn’t think she could hate Draco Malfoy even more than she already did, but now, with the burden of buying chocolate frogs resting on her shoulders, she realizes that anything is possible.

[Y/N] finds Draco later on in the day when she’s heading to the Great Hall for dinner; as she’s passing by a window that coincidentally overlooks the Quidditch pitch, she sees him zooming around the stadium by himself, no doubt practicing to better his (in [Y/N]’s opinion) ghastly Seeker skills.

So she trudges off to the pitch, arms folded over her chest as she yells, “Malfoy!”

He notices, stops in mid-air, and immediately flies down to land in front of her, one hand on his hip and the other resting on top of his broom. That signature smirk is already on his face, mirrored by [Y/N]'s angry scowl. “Here to take me up on my offer for a date?” he grins, shaking his (sweaty, wet) hair out of his eyes. [Y/N] watches the movement, unimpressed. “Or were you just planning to watch me practice?”

She scoffs, tearing her eyes away from the way he’s running a hand through his blond hair. “Neither. I thought you were bad enough, Malfoy, but bribing first-years into doing my bidding for me? In exchange for bloody chocolate frogs?”

Malfoy’s hand pauses in carding through his hair. He drops it back to his side. “So you figured it out.”

”Why else would first-years be so eager for me to boss them around?”

”Maybe because they find you just as beautiful as I do?” he suggests, eyes glinting, the smile on his face growing even wider. [Y/N] lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter, because is he really still keeping this act up when no one is around to see? Is he that desperate to get on her nerves?

“Just stop it, Malfoy,” she says through gritted teeth, taking a step closer to him. At this, he whistles a little, eyebrows rising, and for some reason [Y/N] tries very, very hard not to look at the sweat trickling down his forehead, the pale pink hue of his cheeks from the strain of practicing—“Please for the love of Merlin can you just drop the whole I’m-in-love-with-you act? You got what you wanted. You’ve annoyed me enough.”

Draco's nose wrinkles. “Oh, but that’s not what I wanted,” the smile on his face falters a little. ”Did you really think I did all of this just to annoy you?”

[Y/N]’s eyebrows furrow—and is that her heart skipping a beat? No. No, definitely not. Falling quiet for a few moments, she finally sniffs and says, “Why else would you go out of your way to act absolutely smitten by me?”

An echo of Hermione's voice from several days ago reverberates through her head. Maybe he fancies you.

Malfoy shrugs, his smirk falling just the tiniest bit to be replaced by a semblance of sincerity. But that can’t be. And then he says, “Maybe I fancy you,” and [Y/N]’s eyes widen.

That can’t be right. Flabbergasted, she blinks, taking a step back. This has to be some sort of joke—no, yes, that’s exactly what this is: another way to crawl under her skin and annoy the daylights out of her. She has to applaud him for his creativity.

Pinching the space between her eyes in irritation, she looks up at Malfoy, inhales, and says, deadpan, “I’m being serious.”

“I am too,” Malfoy counters, eyebrows raised innocently, and [Y/N] has never wanted to smack him more than she does now.

She lets out another incredulous laugh, because this entire situation is just so bloody ridiculous that she can’t quite wrap her head around it. Throwing her hands up in the air in frustration, she turns to him and says, “Alright—okay. Let’s say you do fancy me. I’m going to pretend for a few seconds that you do—okay?”

Draco watches her, evidently amused judging by his grin, shrugs, and nods.

“Okay,” she huffs. “If you do fancy me—why on earth would you?”

Draco opens his mouth, but she cuts him off: “We hate each other, Malfoy. We’ve hated each other since the moment you laid eyes on me and I laid eyes on you. What could have possibly changed your rotten mind?”

He rolls his eyes at this, shifting a little on where he stands. “For starters,” he begins, like he’s talking to a five-year-old, “I didn’t hate you. I disliked the fact that you hung out with the wrong sort of people.”

”The wrong sort of people,” she repeats, deadpan.

“The Weasleys. Blood traitors. Mudbloods.”

She scowls at him, brain struggling to fathom what the bloody hell he’s trying to tell her. Managing to once more plow through her confusion, she says, “Your point is?”

“I’d have asked you out long ago if only you were smarter with who you chose to befriend,” and there it is—that familiar, distasteful sneer [Y/N] hasn’t seen in a long time. “Your family’s one of the oldest wizarding families around. It’s a shame.”

She lets out another scoff of disbelief, but the first few of Draco's words have something inside of her stirring. She refuses to address it and instead says, “So—and again, I’m pretending—you fancy me because of my family?”

He lets out a little sniff. “Not what I said.”

”What is it you’re trying to say, then?”

“Blimey, how long is it going to take you to realize that I actually bloody fancy you?”

Draco has dropped all pretense of nonchalant arrogance; he’s staring at her, obviously frustrated and a little annoyed. He stops leaning on his broom and lets it drop to the ground in favor of advancing towards her until he’s mere inches away from her face.

”I fancy you,” he repeats, and it’s funny, how he says it, because declarations of love are supposed to be sweet and gentle—not scathing and angry. He’s scowling down at her, lip curling, brows drawn in together in the middle in a tight frown. “I’ve decided that I don’t care who you hang around anymore because I fancy you. Do you get it now?”

[Y/N] swallows, staring at him, momentarily frozen. Malfoy doesn’t seem as though he’s joking—and now she doesn’t know what to say. She’s never been this close to him before—close enough to see herself in the reflection of his eyes, which are a striking grey and remind her of thunderstorms brewing behind dark clouds—

She takes in a deep breath and swivels around, turning away from him. “Stop sending children to be my servants,” she says, and starts to walk away—until Malfoy grabs her wrist and forces her to look at him again.

For a moment the look in his eyes convinces [Y/N] that he’s about to apologize, but then his lips are splitting into a wide grin again and he says, “What if I bribe a seventh year into doing your homework for you?”

Another scoff. She tears her wrist away from his grip and stalks off, in complete and utter disbelief.

”Or a house-elf to bring you food?” he calls after her. “Someone to do your hair for you in the morning? Or someone to yell at me for you?”

She halts at the last one, and for some odd, unknown reason, she feels like smiling. But she doesn’t, because that will open a door into something she isn’t sure she wants to explore. So she turns around, suppressing that mysterious little smile, already twenty feet away from Malfoy as she says, loudly, “I like doing that last one myself, thanks.”

From this distance, she thinks Malfoy might be smiling. But she doesn’t stay long enough to find out.

click here to read pt. 2!

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #harry potter fanfic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic

[ereawrites]

Hush

reiner braun x reader

warnings: smut

wc: 8.4k

summary: reiner comes home, even if part of him doesn’t. who can blame you for wanting to offer him some comfort against all the fucked-up things he’s been through?

Late summers in Marley come with a dry, constant heat, the kind that lasts well into the night. After so many months of sun warming your room, even the stone walls can't keep it cool - you've never been good at sleeping in a hot room, and that's the excuse you use to forgive sneaking away to Reiner again. It's selfish. You're distracting him from the war, you worry, for the sake of a little comfort for him and a little peace for yourself. You shouldn't do it, but you do.

"You can't tell the others that I'm doing this.", he whispers against your bare collarbone, exposed by your own shaking fingers that have undone the first three buttons of your uniform. You try to guide his face back up to yours with a hand cupping his jaw. Reiner leans into your touch, but he doesn't move, instead pressing his forehead against the curve of your shoulder. A shaky breath tickles your skin, and it tells you everything you need to know.

When he first came home, no one saw him for weeks, not even the servants who took meals to his room - you caught them in the corridors, of course you did, if only to ask after the wellbeing of a comrade. Pieck eventually pulled you aside and told you, with pity shining in dull eyes, that they were putting him through tests. Psychological evaluations. From what she had left unsaid, you supposed that they were testing his loyalty more than his wellbeing. They decided that he was their most loyal warrior, and they rewarded him with more battles to fight.

Now, trembling beneath you, in a chair hastily shoved back from the desk in his room, you can see for yourself that Reiner is fractured. He's strong - so strong, not broken, not yet - but he is struggling and he is alone, even months later. You smooth your palms over the taut muscle of his shoulders. "I won't, I swear - no one even knows I'm here.". You've been sneaking to his quarters for months; only to speak, at first, to let him know that he doesn't have to bear the burden of Paradis quite so alone.

Although, to be fair, you've never went so far as to straddle him in a chair. You don't know how it happened, really. You had started off perched on the edge of his desk, and one second you were reaching out to cup his cheek -already too far, presuming too much and breaking too many rules in the name of comfort - and the next thing you knew, you were on top of him.

His voice is so small. "They can't know. They already think I'm weak, I- I am, I am weak, you can't-"

This time, you tilt his face up with insistent fingers under his chin. Even after everything, his brown eyes are still the same: sadder, maybe, and crinkled at the corners with a frown, but filled with the very same gentleness he's always regarded you with. "You're not weak, Reiner. You've been through so much, and you're still here, and you've been so brave. It's okay to let yourself feel things - right here, right now, okay? That doesn't make you weak, or selfish."

Reiner closes his eyes as if he's in pain. "...I'm selfish for doing this - being here. I should be out there in the field instead of letting my heart distract me again."

Again, he says, and it sends a jolt through your gut. They never let you find out what happened on the island - Reiner isn't ready to tell you, and you don't know he ever will be - but you're beginning to realise that the man beneath you is being torn apart by the things that happened to him, and the things he did, and the things he's doing now.

"Rei,", you say gently, tracing your thumb over his lips as you lean your forehead against his. "If you don't want me here, I'll go back to my room, and we don't have to speak about it again... Just say the word."

He sighs. For a moment, you think he's going to ask you to leave. As much as you want to believe that you're only here for him, only here to support him and do what he needs, you'd be lying to yourself. Your heart sinks. He picks it back up again with his hands coming to rest on the curve of your waist. "I do want you."

And you're going to tell him that you want him too, but all of a sudden he's kissing you.

Your body reacts before your mind can even catch up: you thread your hands into hair that's more grown out than he usually keeps it, all the way down to his nape, half pulling him closer and half pressing yourself further into him. Reiner lets out another small sigh, deep in his throat. The sound makes your knees go weak - god, you like him so much, too much, perhaps he's not the only one being selfish here - and your legs sink down until your weight is resting solely on his thighs. His hands instantly fly to splay over your back, one between your shoulders and the other just above your ass, and his palms are so big that he's anchoring you against him without even trying.

"I want you,", he repeats between kisses, "So much. For so long."

Something possesses you to slip your tongue into his mouth. You shouldn't do it - you should let him set the pace because this is about him, and - who are you really kidding? He holds you as if he's scared you'll leave, and you kiss him harder. For a few moments, you don't think about anything other than how good his mouth feels on yours, nothing at all. Every time you run your hands over his shoulders, he shudders as if you've sent an electric shock through him.

Reiner breaks away for air and you nearly whine - so embarrassing, but you realise you don't actually give a fuck. There's something in his eyes that seems scared. Scared you'll leave, or scared you don't want him. You're about to kiss him again before you register the faint taste of whiskey on your tongue. "You've been drinking?"

"A few hours ago. I thought you weren't going to come tonight. Helps me stop thinking about you so much.", he admits with a low voice. The expression on his face is almost nervous, as if he's worried you're going to be angry with him about it, but the confession has your heart racing faster than it has any right to. This is about him, you remind yourself; you're glad that his hair is longer now, because you can tug gently on it, making him tilt his head back and expose the column of his throat. It bobs with a thick swallow when you press the first soft kiss to the hollow beneath his Adam's apple. You don't reply to his words. You honestly don't think you can without crying.

There's no need to rush this. Your body screams for you to, but you've been harbouring these impossible feelings for the man underneath you for months - since before he left Marley, if you're to be truly honest - and you need to savour this and he needs gentleness. Slow, chaste kisses peppered across his neck, his jaw, even his shoulders through the material of his shirt. You ghost your nails down his nape and revel in the way his breath hitches slightly. Somewhere along the way, you realise just how closely you're pressed up to him: your chest is pushed hard against his, hips almost flush, and he's still holding you close. There's a tenderness in the embrace that makes your heart hurt all over again.

"Is this okay?', you ask - Reiner's breaths are coming slow and deep, and you can't get rid of the nagging concern that this might quickly become overwhelming for him. "Are you okay?"

He tips his head back down to level his gaze with yours, and the warm brown of his irises has all but melted away into the black of his pupils. "I want to... touch you."

"You can do anything you want to me, Rei.", your mouth says of its own accord, and you still really don't give a fuck about how shameful your lack of control is, because his grip tightens, and he makes a face like you've stabbed him. You're compelled to wipe the expression away with a quick, hot kiss, just barely dipping your tongue into his mouth before pulling away again. "Anything to make you feel good again."

It's a struggle to wrap your fingers around his thick wrist, but you just about manage it, and guide his hand up to the next button of your shirt. It isn't trembling so much now. The slightest tremor, still, but you half-suspect that's due to the careful, gentle awe that you see glinting in his eyes. Reiner mumbles your name as he starts to fumble with the button. "I don't think I'll be able to stop myself after this."

"I don't want you to.", you reply quietly. Quickly, you come the realisation that Reiner's struggle with the button must have been feigned for your comfort, because he has it - and the next one - popped open before you can even gasp in a quick breath. His lips chase his fingers, so, so soft, trailing down each new piece of skin he exposes (when did you start burning up?) and you find that you push back up on your knees instinctively; high enough for his mouth to be able to reach the space between your breasts and, god, it sends fireworks shooting up your spine.

You hardly pay attention to the last few buttons of your shirt being undone - Reiner's lips on your chest see to that, kissing slowly, almost reverently, around the curve of your chest, just underneath each breast and then back up to your collarbones. It's only now that you recall your decision not to wear a bra. It was already late when you left your room, past midnight, and you couldn't afford to be seen sneaking around looking as though you were dressed to actually go somewhere. 

Besides, Reiner has never been disrespectful to you in any way, never leered at you like some of the other men in the compound. A simple cotton button-up and slacks had seemed the obvious choice. A bolt of worry flashes to the forefront of your mind: what if he thinks you only came here for sex? He means so much more to you than that, you don't want him to think-

His hands ground you. One has slipped beneath the material to rest on your bare waist. He's just brushing the skin, and he's staring at your lips, and he looks as if he's terrified and in awe and maybe something else, all at once. The fingers of his right hand play with the edge of your shirt. He has callouses on the pads of his fingers - a lifetime of too much work and not enough gentleness. This is about him, you remind yourself. You nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then another, and he starts to slip the shirt away from your body.

Reiner whispers, "You're beautiful." against your neck before he's even looked at you. "So beautiful. Sometimes I think you're an angel." An already weak protest dies in your throat when he dips his head to start kissing your neck - real kisses this time, warmer and faster and with a hint of tongue, and although it pains you so much to release your grip on his hair, you do it so that your shirt can fall forgotten to the floor. "Too good for someone like me."

Hushing him comes easily, even if hearing his words is hard - you've spent months trying to soothe him and help him with words, so maybe now is the time to show him with actions instead. Reiner is the one who's too good for you, too good for this world in fact, a world that has done nothing but abuse him. You have to stop thinking and start feeling, both of you. He actually makes a tiny grunt of protest when you push his face away from your neck in order to peel his shirt away. It's selfish, you know, to run your palms up his abs and chest when you do it, just as it's selfish to stare shamelessly at his arms when he raises them to tug the shirt over his head, but Reiner catches you doing it and, for the first time in weeks, he smiles.

"You're beautiful too, Rei. I've thought so for a long time.", you say into a kiss that's already started. His hands are at your hips and your arms are wrapped around his neck, you're so close to him it hurts, so close you feel every last bit of self-control slipping away; he pulls you closer, kisses you harder, lets your tits press up against his bare chest. You kiss him until your lips are swollen and you're panting for air. No one's ever made you feel like this: so safe and whole and damn hot with just a little kissing.

Then, you adjust yourself in his lap, and you feel that he's half-hard in his pants. Honestly, you doubt your own underwear is in a much better state. Still, you can't help the way your breath hitches: Reiner's jaw tightens, probably because of the inadvertent friction, but you feel the heat spreading over your cheeks. You both want this, of course you do, but it's still shocking to feel the evidence of his arousal. And that's without even thinking about how big the bulge felt in that one little instant.

Reiner tugs you backwards by the hips and you're scared that he's become overwhelmed. He steadies you as soon as your ass is resting further down on his thighs, though - the loss of skin-to-skin contact draws a small whine from you - and starts kissing down your neck again, leads your hands to support yourself on his shoulders, and now his hands are on your tits. It starts off fairly slow. Not quite as gentle as before but the reverence is still evident. An angel, he said, and he touches you like you are one. He claims to be a monster but he treats you so well:  licking at your collarbones and kissing your neck, swiping those calloused thumbs over your nipples until they harden, pinching so gently and just right, making the breath shoot out of you in a shuddering moan. The scolding he gives you sounds entirely absent. "Got to stay quiet, sweetheart. No one can know you're here."

"I-", forced to bite your lip when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, "Sorry. I know. Just - feels good."

"It's what you deserve."

God, Reiner makes you totally weak and he doesn't even seem to know it. His voice is quiet as ever. You always have to speak lowly when you're here, in case someone hears and they keep you from seeing him again - but it's dropped so low, and it's got just the littlest bit of rasp to it. He sounds desperate. You're pretty sure you can actually feel the dampness in your underwear now. Torn between sitting there and letting him play with your nipples for hours, and just unbuckling his belt right now and riding him in his desk chair, you're so close to becoming overstimulated and simply melting into his arms, but he makes the decision for you.

The way he leans even further down to wrap his lips around one nipple must be uncomfortable for him, he's so tall, taller than you even when you're sat on top of his thighs like this - he must enjoy it, though, because he groans lowly as his tongue swirls around it. You nearly have to clap your hand over your mouth to stifle a moan, and he clearly knows you're going to need extra support staying up, because his now free hand slides around to hold the base of your bare back. "Oh my God-", you hiss. You're almost certain you feel him smile again.

"Rei. Is it okay if I...", you manage to pant out, gesturing to the zipper of your slacks, after a few more minutes of indulgence - after seemingly being satisfied with the attention he gave one breast, he had switched to the other, making practically inaudible noises each time your hips canted against his broad thighs. One day, if he lets you do this again, maybe you'll ask him to let you get off on the hard muscle of his quads. You'd like to feel his arms around you as you fall apart.

His fingers slip just below your waistband. They're so, so close to where you need him, and your body is so hot, and Reiner's must be too because his pecs are starting to glisten with sweat. "Please.", as if he's on the verge of breaking with how much he wants you - it would sound conceited to believe, but you see the way he's looking at you, you feel the way he's touching you. It wouldn't be fair to deny him of the only emotion he's allowed himself in a long time.

Of course, he waits for you to nod your consent. Those warm, fractured, black-brown eyes swallow you up so much that your whole body is set ablaze as he slowly undoes the button of your trousers. You at least had the good sense to wear acceptable underwear, although you suspect Reiner will want that gone, too. He's seeming to grow harder with every bit of bare skin he manages to touch. As he drags the zipper down at a pace much too slow for your liking, he murmurs, stand up for me, sweetheart.

You do, in the space he makes for you between spread thighs, and the thought of being away from him right now is so unbearable, that you press your knees up against the chair to keep the closeness. Reiner looks up at you for a moment, cheeks a little red and lips a little swollen, before his eyes are on your body and your trousers are being tugged gently over the curve of your ass. The heat in your stomach grows even more intense when you literally see his mouth drop open at the sight of your underwear, and he blushes harder when your thighs are exposed; you're tensing them together to relieve some of the pressure, you realise, but Reiner's easily strong enough to get past that. He even leans down to caress your calves as he pushes the slacks the rest of the way off.

"I would have dressed up for you a little more, if I had known this was going to happen.", you half-giggle. It's been a long time since anyone has seen you like this. You're not exactly ashamed of the fact that there's most definitely a damp spot on your underwear - one that Reiner hasn't noticed, too preoccupied with kissing your lower stomach and squeezing your thighs - but it's an intense feeling, finally being in a moment that you've tried so hard to stop imagining. Reiner huffs a small laugh in return against your abdomen.

"You're stunning. In anything.", he says, just before he lays a kiss to your pussy through the material of your underwear. He must feel the wetness because he groans, too loud, and then he licks. You gasp. Even that small action feels so much better than your own fingers ever have. Visions fill your head: sitting on the edge of his desk, watching him eat you out, those huge hands holding your hips in place until the skin bruises, those beautiful eyes staring up from between your legs - he twines his fingers into yours, and brings them to the waistband of your underwear. You catch the hint right as he leans back into the chair again.

Stripping in front of him puts a lump in your throat. Rei is kind but he's huge, especially when he's spread out in his chair like that, with a sweat-slicked broad chest and thick thighs and a bulge that you worry might actually tear through his trousers, and you feel so vulnerable to do this just in front of him, where he can reach out and swallow you up at any moment. It's so incredibly hot. There's no need to put on a show. He watches you as though you're the most beautiful thing in the world anyway. You do it for him regardless, though, as well as you can. You take it slow, being sure to drag your hands over your thighs in a way that feels silly and sensual all at once. When the lace reaches your knees, his hand is there next to yours, and you take it for balance as you step out of your underwear completely.

"Fuck...", he remarks under his breath. His thumb traces absent circles over the back of your hand while he drinks in the sight of you. Perhaps it's because of the dim lighting, the room lit only by a few candles and a lamp in the corner, but you feel like he looks at you too hard, for too long, for someone who isn't supposed to care about you. Your stomach lurches and you feel your inner thighs begin to become wet. You won't take this from him, or yourself, not when the dark look in his eyes is making your pussy clench like this. He holds your hand the entire time he looks at you. "So pretty. C'mere."

Instantly, you're settling back on top of him. The fog in your mind means you don't even question how compliantly you react to his baritone. His left hand snakes around your back again to hold you steady, and you're not quite sure if your hand guides the other to your inner thighs, or if he does it of his own accord. Either way, he's ghosting calloused fingertips over the damp skin there as soon as you make yourself comfortable. "Ah- please.", you whimper.

Reiner probably doesn't mean to tease you, but you need him, you need something to touch you before you go insane. You plead with him again, saying his name this time, and he swallows thickly. The sound that leaves your mouth when he runs a finger up your slit is pitiful. He responds so well, though, repeating the action a few more times before he pulls his hand away. "You're so wet, god."

His voice is rougher than you could ever have imagined. Another clench of your pussy, and you see his eyes widen at the strings of wetness connecting his thick fingers. Your own tone comes out far too high and shaky. "You just - I can't help it, you make me feel... something, I don't know, I-", and it tapers off into a senseless whine when his fingers start to trace lines over your pussy again.

"Relax, angel. Gonna make you feel good like you deserve, I promise.". The reassurance is murmured between your breasts, where he's licking away the salty dampness rapidly collecting there - Reiner clearly wants all of you, every part of you, just as much as you want him. He keeps up the motion for a little longer, spreading your wetness around, until your clit swells up so much that it catches on his finger every time he passes over it. Each gentle bump drags another stifled gasp out of you. No one can know you're here, no one can know that Reiner's grabbing the flesh of your ass and rubbing your pussy, but he sure as hell doesn't make it easy for you.

This time, he doesn't run his finger straight over your clit. He stops moving as soon as your body reacts to the touch - he's right on the most sensitive part of you, and he presses with the smallest bit of pressure, just enough to have you grasping wildly at his shoulders for something to ground yourself on. You're so worked up that it feels more incredible than you would ever have imagined. He's so perfect and good to you, and he doesn't stop there: he begins to trace slow, steady circles directly onto your clit - your body jerks of its own accord, but his forearm around your waist is big and strong enough to pin your hips in place against his hand.

"Oh- Rei-", you moan. You definitely see his cock twitch. Maybe it's a trick of the light, but you're pretty sure you can see a considerable damp spot forming on his trousers, too.

"God. I always knew you'd sound pretty."

The rasped confession has your hips trying to buck again. Reiner's finger starts to move a little faster. The increased pleasure means you're faced with moaning too loud and getting caught, or finding some other way to occupy your mouth. You're panting when you ask, "You've... thought about doing this?"

"Yeah. Too much. I- I'm sorry-", Reiner admits as he mouths your nipples, sounding hardly sorry at all. You envision him fisting his cock to the thought of you right as his middle finger leaves your clit and pushes inside you to the first knuckle,"-I couldn't help myself, I never can around you."

"Shi- I think about you too.". Mewling, your upper body collapses so it's leaning against Reiner's strong torso, your lips against his temple, his head buried in your neck, his arm keeping you steady as he works his finger into you. Senseless blabbering is all you can manage, spilling your filthy secrets into his ear without an ounce of shame. "When I touch myself. I - oh-", turning your face into his hair when his finger catches on that sweet spot inside you, "- I think about you, I always imagine it's you, your fingers, your cock-"

His finger finally, finally is fully inside you, although Reiner is already eagerly pushing another into you; this one makes you feel the stretch, hot and full in a way that even three of your own fingers can never achieve. Shuddering, another moan of his name, clawing at his shoulders - your body welcomes him even if it's a difficulty, gushing more wetness onto his palm until he starts to scissor his large fingers inside of you, stretching you out until tears are pricking your eyes in protest of how good it feels.

"Wish we could do this where no one else could hear."-and so do you, you want Reiner to know just how good he's making you feel- "You sound so pretty. Do you... think you can take it..?", he mumbles, and you know he's talking about his cock, inside you - two of his fingers have you writhing, so the thought of his cock has your eyes rolling back in your head. He crooks his fingers onto your sweet spot right as you open your mouth, almost like he wants the risk of you being too loud and getting caught.

"Please, Reiner, I want to!", you respond a breathy whine, all of it rushing out of you at once before he can catch your g-spot again. You start to snake a hand into the cramped, hot space between your torsos. All you can think of is how good he'll feel when he's inside you. "Let me-"

"Not yet.", he groans, curling his fingers again, and again, not stopping, and he sounds genuinely authoritative for the first time. Your body goes weak, but you'd stop moving for him anyway. "Come on my fingers first. Wanna get you nice and wet before you take me, okay?"

"Fuck-", you cry. The motion on your most sensitive spot just isn't stopping, he's found where he wants to be - the callouses on his fingers are making the friction even more perfect, especially when he brings his thumb to retrace those slow circles on your clit. He keeps it steady for a few minutes - could be hours, or seconds, all you know is that it feels too good to care - and the pressure inside you is becoming something else. Reiner is taking his time with every motion, but that's exactly what's bringing you to the edge so fast. His fingers are so thick and the pressure on your clit is so good, that's it, you're starting to shake in the kind of way that leads up to an orgasm that makes you go blank in the head. You fold into the way he holds you and you let go.

Rei lets a strained grunt out. "That's it, come on, you're taking it so well. You're dripping onto my leg, that's exactly what I want, my angel.". So wet that he can feel it through his trousers, it's so humiliating and Reiner obviously loves it so much because he groans again when you start to clench on his fingers, picking up the pace of his movements and you can hear how wet you are and it must be all over his bare forearm-

"I'm gonna-", you try to warn him: he coaxes you into it, come on, please and you cum hard.

The behinds of your eyelids go white, or black, you have no way to tell. Your entire body feels weightless, grounded only by his arm around you, and his fingers must keep curling inside of you because the waves of pleasure don't stop, they just keep coming, hitting you until every part of your body is alight and molten for him, and you're very vaguely aware of your own hand covering your mouth. It takes longer to come down from it than it's ever taken you.

Then again, no one has ever ripped an orgasm that strong out of you.

"Are you okay?", Reiner asks. His fingers are no longer inside. He's rubbing soothing patterns into your inner thighs, and either your thighs are soaked or his hand is; your muscles feel like jelly, but you just about manage to support your own weight again, leaning back so you can look him in the eyes. There's wetness on your cheeks, maybe tears, and Reiner looks at you with clear concern through blown pupils. It's so endearing and sexy that you have to smile. It must relax him, given how he returns it with a soft one of his own - you notice marks on his lower lip, like he bit it to hold back a sound, perhaps.

You kiss him softly to soothe the pain, whispering into his mouth, "Can I have you inside, now, Rei?". His hands come to grip your waist hard. You know how you must sound to him: fucked out after his fingers alone, speech slurred and pitchy from the aftershocks of your orgasm, asking for his cock. And yet, he still waits for you.

"...Are you sure you want me?". You nod in response. He picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, not even letting out a breath of exertion, and your shaky legs wrap instinctively around him as he stands from the chair. For a moment, Rei just holds you there, kissing you with an indescribable, soft kind of intensity, letting you run your hands over the biceps and triceps that aren't even straining with the effort of holding you. His bed is close, but obviously too far away for him, so he places you down onto the edge of his desk. You separate from the kiss, only meaning to glance down to adjust yourself - falling off the desk would be a great way to kill the mood - when you see it.

"Oh - oh my god, the window is open..!"

It makes sense; he knows you don't like a hot room, he's kept his window open in the evenings ever since you told him that weeks ago. Why didn't you check? Everyone else should be asleep by now, but... Porco's room is so close to Reiner's, and if he's somehow awake with his own window open - you move to hop off the desk. Reiner cups your cheek in his hand, drawing your gaze back to him, and suddenly all thoughts about the stupid window disappear.

"It's okay.", he promises. "They won't hear if we're careful. I'm going to be so careful and slow with you, I swear."

God. You look down and you're reminded of exactly why you're so worked up - there is definitely a wet spot on his trousers, he must be leaking for you, and the thought of that cock slowly working you open drives you to start fumbling with his zipper. This is the first time your hands have been near that bulge and they look positively tiny in comparison. You worry if he's going to fit, briefly, but Reiner promised to be careful and you're more than ready for him. Without even bothering to fully remove his slacks and underwear - you just tug them down to his upper thighs - you're met with the full sight of him.

It's so much bigger than you would have thought, even generously, fuck; you're pretty sure your jaw actually drops when it springs free from his underwear, slapping against his taut abdomen. It's long, enough to make your mouth water, with a nice, prominent vein on the underside, but the most impressive part of him is the thickness. Even the head is fat, curved upwards somewhat, and he's leaking so much that a bead of precum rolls down his cock within seconds. You rip your eyes away to look up at him and, somehow, he looks embarrassed. You can't stand to see him like that, not when every part of him is so perfect and handsome, so you wrap your hand around his cock and begin to stroke gently.

Your fingers just barely touch around his girth. His precum slicks your palm, though, making it easy enough to set a nice, slow pace of pumping him, watching how his brow instantly furrows. "Holy shit - ah, use both hands, sweetheart, please -". Reiner doesn't need to ask twice: you spit into your other palm to offer him even more slick, then bring it to join the other, relishing in the choked gasp he makes. Even stroking him with two hands, there's so much of him you can't hold at once.

He's beautiful, you think, with gritted teeth and head thrown back. Right now, you could happily stroke him for as long as he wants, as long as he needs to spill himself all over your hands, but he only grants you a few short moments and a low hiss before he's carefully pulling your hands away.

After a kiss to the knuckles of each hand, he cups the back of your head and leans over you, bringing your back flat against the desk. "Lie back, just like that.", and your legs wrap around his waist without having to be told. There's the briefest flash in his eyes, a feral glint when you tug him closer using your thighs, but then it's gone, and he's tenderly holding your head so it doesn't rest directly on the hard wood of the desk. "Want you to look at me when I'm filling you up, okay? So I know you're okay. Can you do that for me?"

Reiner is going to fuck you, you realise. He really is going to be inside you. This isn't a dream, not the fantasy you have when you're touching yourself after returning to your own room. Reiner is above you, pumping his cock in his fist, staring at your aching cunt as he does it.

"Anything.", you whisper. He dips his head to kiss you once more, then props himself up on his elbow so he can watch your face. The first brush of his cock against your core has your hips bucking, rolling, rubbing yourself up and down his length like a bitch in heat, and he lets you do it, looking into your eyes and smiling when his cock head catches on your hole. Your ankles lace behind his back to pull him down onto you, just as his hips make the first small thrust, and suddenly he's inside you.

It can only be the first inch or so, maybe not even all of the head, but it hurts and you have to bite down on a cry of his name. It hurts and it feels amazing. Nothing has ever stretched you out so much, and you can feel yourself dripping, trying so hard to accommodate him, because your body needs him just as much as you want him; Reiner groans at the first spasm of your walls, much louder than he should be with an open window, but who gives a fuck if Porco hears - it hurts but you nod for him to keep pushing, go deeper, stretch you out around all of his cock.

Reiner begins to pant once he gets the second inch in, going slow for both of your sakes, sweat beading at his temples. "God, you're so - tight-", as he stuffs more into you, watching you whimper and watching your eyes roll into your skull, "-like you're..made for my cock, huh, fuck-"

His voice dissolves into a growl by the end. You roll your hips, all the way up off the desk, and the movement has even more of him inside you. "Oh." You moan, and you think you're tearing up again. Reiner kisses at the edge of your eyes. The sensation is so perfectly overwhelming, the slow drag of his cock as it threatens to split you open, and coupled with the sounds he's making on top of you you're in total bliss.

Both of you go on like that for a while, slowly rolling your hips against each other and stifling noises as well as you can. Marks left on his back by your nails can be hidden, and the red-hot kisses he peppers over your tear-streaked face will fade away. By the time the tight fight has stopped hurting - still intense, maybe too much, but only good - his hips are flush with yours, and he's completely still. His free hand yet again keeps your hips from bucking. You've done it, you realise. You've taken all of his cock and it feels incredible. But he won't move.

Reiner barely starts to speak before you're begging. "Does it feel good-"

"So good, Rei, so fucking good - you can start moving, please."

He doesn't need any further encouragement; the first thrust is shallow, slow, only pulling out a few inches before working his way back into you. Still, when his hips bump against yours again, there's a sharp flash inside of you and he's actually hitting your cervix, fuck, you gasp so loud that he has to muffle it with his tongue in your open mouth. He holds it there for a few seconds before repeating the motion, letting himself fall into a rhythm as you pant and sob into his mouth with each thrust, clutching desperately at his back while every thrust gets deeper. Within a few minutes, he's pulling out almost to the tip each time - only the thick head left to fill you - before slowly, slowly pushing back in.

"You're taking me so well, my angel.", Reiner praises through a ragged breath. Even fucking you slow, he's struggling to contain himself. "You feel so good around me."

"Then, go fa-faster, Reiner, please - I can take it, I promise, just-!"

His hips snap against yours like a gunshot and you're completely filled again in a heartbeat. Your cunt clenches around him as you moan, throwing your head back, and Reiner collapses onto you. His body covers you completely even as he keeps the weight off by leaning on his forearm, letting you feel the drag of your nipples against his skin when he stuffs you with his cock so quick again, he's kissing your jaw and now you have nothing to silence your cries with other than your own hand, heaving for breath through your fingers as he starts to rut into you. The fingers on your hip pull you against him every time he bottoms out, pushing his cock even deeper, and you think you feel him smile against your neck when you gasp, "God, you're so deep."

The faster, frantic pace means that the room is filled with the sound of his skin slapping against yours, especially when you ask him to go harder and stop holding back, Rei, because you can take everything he has to give you. That perfect curve near the head of his length keeps catching on your g-spot - Reiner knows how to find it, he's hitting it too often for it to be an accident, angling his hips just so and matching each of your moans with one of his own. He must get off on watching you come undone underneath him, falling apart on his cock, you think, because you feel him pulse inside you every time you brokenly sob his name.

"This what you need? Am I giving you what you want, huh, sweetheart?", he rasps and it's not demeaning or teasing, he means it, he really means it- "Am I making you feel as good as you deserve?"

A particularly deep thrust has your toes curling at his back. "'S so good, yeah, feels so good, wanted you for so long-"

Your speech is slurring from the shocks of pleasure he's sending through you. Between the jolts to your cervix, the constant pressure on your g-spot, the way his body is rubbing against your clit with each rapid thrust of his hips - his lips on your neck and his grunts in your ear - you're going to cum again, you tell him, and he shoves himself up off the desk to stand upright. The change in position has your legs falling away from his back, and you scramble pathetically to adjust your hips so his cock will be deeper again, but his hands catch your thighs and easily overpower you. Both forearms slip underneath your knees, so your legs are hanging over his arms, and his hands grab either side of your hips to slam you back onto his cock.

"Holy shit- you feel even tighter like this, does that feel good? C'mon, answer me, tell me it feels good, please-"

"Yes!", you sob, and you can't give him any more than that because having your legs raised means he's right on your g-spot: all you can do is stare up at him through bleary eyes and admire how good he looks. His abs clench with every thrust, and his arms look so big holding your legs up like that. God, you're so close, just a little more - you reach down to play with your clit but Reiner pushes your hand away and pleads, "No-" and one of his hands slips around your leg to find it himself. Of course he finds it, you're so swollen for him, and he's rolling it between two fingers before you can clap your palm back over your mouth. You all but squeal his name.

"That's it, sweetheart, that - that's it, fuck, clench around me, please, want you to cum again, wanna feel you cum on my cock-", he says. You just barely hear him through the pounding in your head and the sound of your own desperate panting, and god you want to please him, you'd do anything for him, this is all for him, remember, so even though you don't know if your body can handle it, you nod. You shove your own fingers into your mouth to keep yourself quiet, the ones that he was dripping precum over when you stroked his cock, and you let Reiner slam into your g-spot and rub and pinch your clit until you're coming again.

Reiner doesn't slow down, he doesn't stop toying with your clit, he keeps telling you how perfect you feel when you squeeze him like that - you somehow feel and hear it all even though you can't understand anything other than the fire spreading through your nerves and into your limbs, consuming every part of you as he keeps fucking you - it's so intense that it doesn't last more than a few seconds, it can't, it's too much, you're starting to drool around your fingers when you come down - and then he tells you he's close in the loudest moan you've heard yet, and you're coming again-

You come back to your senses trembling, boneless and crying with pleasure. "Gonna cum for you.", he says, pressing down on where his cock bulges through your stomach. "You did so well for me.", and it takes everything you have to reach out for him. Reiner pushes your legs down to your chest so he can interlace his fingers with yours: you're almost sure you're still coming because your body spasms under him, your throat constricting in a soundless cry, but you don't take your eyes off him. He keeps you safe in his gaze for the final few thrusts, and then he takes your hand down with his as he pulls out, and together you stroke his cock so he can spill himself all over your stomach.

There's so much, you dully register. You don't watch because you're too caught up in his face, how his brow finally relaxes and his lips part so nicely, how he looks so at peace and so happy. You don't watch but you definitely feel his cum on your body. It's all over your stomach and chest by the time he finally stops stroking, finally opens his eyes again. It's strange: he must have fucked you so silly that you think he's looking at you like man in love.

A man in love, and covered in sweat, and exhausted. You smile despite yourself. "'S heavy. Get off."

Reiner lays a kiss to your forehead before doing as you say, leaving you to close your eyes and recover on the desk. He has a washbasin in the corner, you recall, when you hear the noise of water: he must be cleaning himself off. Then, the sound of footsteps, coming back towards you. He sounds tired and hesitant when he says, "...Do you want me to clean you...?"

For some reason, you blush. You've just had sex with Reiner - for his sake, you remind yourself, to let him know that it's okay to feel things again - and yet you're embarrassed over that simple offer. Then again, you only came here tonight to talk, to offer him some comfort on a day that you suspected had been a bad one. Sex is one thing: against the rules, but forgivable, a way for him to get rid of some of his frustrations and get his mind back on the mission. That's what you'll tell them, if they ever come asking. The intimacy of cleaning each other is a different matter entirely.

But no one ever has to know. Neither of you will ever tell the others that you're doing this, right? "Please.", you whisper, and you keep your eyes closed as if it makes it okay. Your brain is still heavy and fogged, but you don't miss how carefully and tenderly he touches you as he wipes you down - such a big man, being so gentle with you even now. You wouldn't blame him for asking you to leave now. In all good sense, this was a mistake, one that neither of you should speak of again, and it's in both of your best interests to move on as fast as possible. He won't have to know when you remember this night when you-

Reiner calls your name, and you reluctantly open your eyes. It's selfish, but you don't want this to end. He must have finished cleaning you and discarded of the washcloth, because he's already changed into a fresh pair of sleep pants, and he's holding up a shirt to you. You take it with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Reiner. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have come onto you. I've put you in a bad position and I really am sorry. I won't tell anyone that this happened.". The words pain you to say, but you know that you should apologise, and you give him a sad smile as you pull the shirt over your head. It's only when you catch the scent that you realise that this isn't your shirt - it's his. The questioning look you shoot him when your head pops out is met with a hand offered to you.

"I... meant what I said about wanting you. Not just for sex.", he says, although he looks scared to say it. "You mean more to me than that, you know. You make me feel like I'm more than what I've done. I know it's wrong, but-"

"-it's not wrong!", you blurt, and Reiner's eyes widen like he was expecting you to agree with him. "You are more than what you had to do, okay? I promise. To me, none of that matters, because I know you're a good person at heart. All of us know it."

That little interjection is exactly what you've been telling him for months. This might be the first time he looks as though he's beginning to believe it. You take his hand, smiling as much as you can even though you're still fighting the shame of what you just did, and Reiner says, "Stay here for a few hours - please. You'll sleep better, my room isn't as warm. Go back to your room before wakeup call. No one has to know.". He leads you to the bed and he lets you hold him, and you pretend that you don't hear him crying when he thinks you're asleep, or how he whispers that he thinks he might be in love.

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun smut #reiner smut #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #shingeki no kyoujin #snk #snk x reader #snk x you #snk smut #reiner x reader

[make-me-imagine]

Late Night Admissions

Prompts: 'As you begin to fall asleep, you feel a gentle kiss pressed to your temple and a blanket draped over you' + 'Fingertips brushing hair from your face' and 'Body warmth as someone holds you against them' Requested by: @twisted-monster

Pairing: Loki x Gen!Neutral Reader

Triggers: None

Words: I wanted to make this longer, but I was only able to get it to 1.9k

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000 Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovyfluxie, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy

*An alternate timeline in which Loki survived Thanos and ended up helping the Avengers defeat him, because why not.

**Little angst, mostly fluff

Part of you hated how your entire being reacted when you so much as heard his name. Heart beat increased to an annoying rate, your hands get sweaty, and you feel a jolt of excitement rocket through your body as butterflies rampage in your stomach.

The other part of you was glad for it. Because it proved to you that the way you felt about him, that the way he made you feel, was real. Whether it was for him or not, still haunted your thoughts.

You wiped your sweaty hands on your pants as you looked around the room, hoping that no one noticed your sudden change in demeanor at the mention of the mischievous God. He and Thor were coming for a visit. It had been just over two weeks since you last saw Loki. His last visit was only known to you, and only for you.

Ever since Loki had helped to fight Thanos with the rest of you, he was now welcome on Earth. Many of the Avengers were cautious around him, just in case he resorted back to wanting to take over Earth. You had been cautious at first as well. But at some point, you and Loki had developed a friendship, which then developed into more. And for the last couple of months, you secretly had been "together". You tried not to think of it as a relationship, because sometimes you doubted how he really felt about you.

Loki was the one who acted secretive around you, as though he wanted no one to know you had something between you. At first you had been unsure of whether you wanted the others to know, but the longer you were with him, you no longer cared how they would react. But still, Loki refused. You often wondered if he was dissatisfied with being with someone from Midgard, maybe he was ashamed of the thought.

At times he would be gentle and kind, funny and generous. And sometimes he would be distant, as though you were only acquaintances, or less. The last time he had been here, he came in secret, and you spent the whole night watching the night sky and talking, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he told you stories of Asgard. And in the moment you felt like he might really care deeply about you, just as deeply as you felt for him. You fell asleep in his arms, and when you woke up, he was gone.

"Tony! Pepper!" Thor bellowed as he entered, greeting the two as they walked towards him. You jumped slightly as you were shaken from your thoughts at his boisterous entry.

"Thor, back so soon?" Tony asked as Pepper nudged his shoulder and smiled at Thor.

"Hello Thor, It's good to see you too, where's Loki?" She asked as she peaked behind Thor.

As she asked this, part of you was afraid he had decided not to come at all. But just as you began to feel disappointed Loki entered the room. His eyes scanned the room, over the others and on to you, where his eyes barely held for a second. Your small faltered before it even graced your face. He at least usually nods his head in acknowledgement to you, or even says your name in greeting with a polite smile, but that was barely more than nothing. You shouldn't have been hurt by that, but you were.

Pushing the thought down, you walked across the room and towards the brothers. Thor grinned at you "Hello Y/n."

"Hi Thor, Loki." You smiled as you greeted them.

When Loki did nothing but hold your gaze casually, you looked back to Thor "Your message never said why you were coming back, nothing's wrong I hope."

"No, no. Well...I'm not quite sure. We are here to speak to Strange. Apparently he has something he wants to discuss with us, a possible Asgardian causing trouble I think."

"And he needs you to deal with it?" You asked curiously.

"We'll see I suppose." He said casually with a slight grudge "We're going there now, but I wanted to say hello. We will return later." He said his voice now merry again, turning he began to leave, Loki followed with no word and barely a look at you, sending a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Feeling Pepper staring at you, you looked at her "What?" You asked cautiously, gaining Tony's attention.

"Was it just me or was Loki acting odd?" She asked.

"Now that you mention it-" Tony broke in "He was much more silent than he normally is, though that's not saying much." He said before turning and walking away.

You met Peppers eyes again and shrugged and she eyed you almost suspiciously before turning "Okay." She said unconvinced "I'll talk to you later then."

"Bye" You said as she began to follow Tony. Looking back at where Loki had been standing you felt a uneasy feeling flowing through your entire being.

- - - - -

After Thor and Loki's departure, you couldn't help but worry something had happened since the last time you and Loki were together. Had he gotten tired of you? Of pretending that he felt anything for you? Was it all just a game?

Countless thoughts troubled your mind, and only a few of them were defending his actions. Defending his disregard of you.

"Y/n." A gentle voice greeted from close behind you making you spin around in alarm at the sudden intrusion of your thoughts.

Seeing Loki standing there, a faint smile on his face, your usual butterflies were replaced with an anxious tightening of your stomach "Loki." You greeted simply.

Walking up to you, he stopped only a few inches away. Reaching down he took your hands gently in his own before bringing them up and pressing a kiss to the back of each of them.

You frowned in confusion at his sudden change, and as he looked at you he saw it clearly "What's wrong?" He asked.

Scoffing lightly you pulled your hands away from him, and you saw a small reaction on his face that seemed to be hurt. But pushing past it you tried to speak boldly "What do you mean? Isn't it obvious? I don't understand how you can move so smoothly from total disregard to- to...this?" You motioned your hands at him. "You acted as though you didn't even care I was in the room earlier, did you seriously think that I wouldn't notice? Or care?"

Loki stared at you with his mouth ajar "I- didn't think about it. I just assumed that you knew I would act...casual around you, as to not show our connection. If they knew." He chuckled lightly under his breath "They would think me....weaker, I think."

You scoffed again and Loki rose his brow at you "Love is not a weakness Loki." You said with obvious hurt in your voice. But as the words left your mouth, and you saw Loki's face change to surprise, you realized what you had said, what you had unintentionally admitted to him, and yourself in part. Quickly you stepped back from him and felt yourself become awkward "I need to go." You said as you quickly walked past him and left the room, leaving behind a somewhat astounded God behind you.

- - - - -

You stared at your curtain covered window, the white lacy fabric allowing you to see the silhouettes and faded lights of the city outside your window. Your last interaction with Loki replaced in your head on a loop. 'I really said "Love" didn't I?' You thought to yourself. You had been afraid to admit it to yourself, that you had fallen in love with him. But it came out so naturally, you must have meant it. You did mean it. You loved him. And that's why his casual disregard of your feelings hurt you so much. Surely he would not feel the same for you.

The more you thought about it, the more you felt yourself finally begin drifting to sleep. You didn't hear your door open and close, but you were aware of the footsteps coming towards your bed. Purposefully soft as they approached. If you were not in such a safe place, you'd be on guard. But even in you tired minded state, you knew who it was.

Instead of waking yourself up to deal with what might come with his presence, you continued to let yourself be taken by your sleepiness. But as you did, you felt a kiss pressed to your temple, and you blanket brought up and draped over you. The soft action caused your heart to beat rapidly, and the sleep you were fighting to take was fading away as his presence became too overpowering.

Finally, you let out a small breath and turned your head a bit further into your pillow, causing a bit of your hair to fall across your face. Speaking quietly out into the darkness of your room "What are you doing here?"

He remained silent for a moment as he reached over, and gently brushed the stray hands of hair from your face and back behind your ears. "You were right-" he began "love is not a weakness." Your heart began to beat heavier in your chest as he spoke gently from behind you, his hand rested gentle on your side. "But I became scared, of...your mortality. Of loving someone I can lose so easily and in what feels like, such a short amount of time. And that scared me more than I wish to think about." So I pushed it away a bit, never letting the others see it. Hoping that I..could stop it, I could take it back. But those were lies I told myself. I don't really want to stop it. I want to cherish it.So I have decided, it is much better to be with you while I can, rather than run from it and not have you at all. So I promise I will no longer run from it, or from you. I will make it my strength. My love. For you."

You never realized they built up, but a tear streamed from your cheek as he spoke. Remaining still you let the fabric of your pillow soak it up. "I was afraid you didn't feel anything for me." You admitted, ad you felt his hand grip your side a bit "I've thought about it too you know. You being immortal, and me not. But I more thought it was because I was human that you did not want me."

Loki brought his face beside yours "No. I want you. And...your humanity is what makes me love you more. You are so kind, and loving and strong, and so...human. I couldn't help but fall for you."

You smiled at this, and Loki pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you could feel the smile he had as well. Leaning back, he adjusted himself so that he was holding you now, his arms wrapped around you and his head resting just above yours. His body heat made you sink into the comfort of your bed easier, and you felt yourself drifting away again.

A sudden thought popped back into your mind just as you were losing yourself to sleep. You mumbled out quietly to him "Will you be gone when I wake up?"

Loki smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the back of your head he then rested it on the pillow "Not this time."

No, not this time. He would no longer flee. He would no longer run from him desire to be with you. From this point on, he would cherish every moment. He would love you as you deserved.

xx End xx

Hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please consider reblogging! :)

If you want to be added to my Loki or Avengers/Marvel taglist let me know! (I also have taglists available for any other character and fandom)

#loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki x y/n #marvel #avengers #oneshot #one shot #marvel reader insert #loki x reader oneshot #loki odinson/reader #loki/reader #loki laufeyson/reader #loki fluff #loki x gender neutral reader #avengers reader insert

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 2.

Part 1- Here

Next- Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate

Where we left off-

You twisted the hem of your shirt, silence growing as you thought. Your mother wasn’t saying anything new. On your lonelier days, like today, the words sounded eerily similar to your own thoughts. If this conversation had happened on any other day, you knew how forceful your ‘No!’ would be. But today was today.

“Okay.” Your whisper seemed more like a shout into the quiet. “I’ll do it. I’ll go.”

“You will? Oh Y/N! How wonderful! Since I already said yes, of course. You’ll need to come home right away, the omiai is the day after tomorrow, and we need to get you a proper outfit!”

“So soon?” Your mind raced. Bakugou was still in heat. What would you do? There was no way… Your thoughts slowed. But there was a way. Plenty of ways. Katsuki had many friends that could look after him. Friends he was actually comfortable letting into his apartment. You knew he’d let Kirishima take care of him. Mina absolutely could convince him to eat and drink, no matter how grumpy he was. There was a pain in your chest as a familiar thought wound through your brain. Katsuki didn’t need you. He never had. As if in a fog, you heard yourself saying, “I’ll need a little bit to take care of some things here; but I can be home tonight. See you soon.” You heard your mother happily continue rambling even as you hung up. You stared at the wall for a few minutes, unseeing. You were really doing this, huh? Pushing yourself up, you rummaged around your kitchen; finding bags and filling them with snacks and drinks. Before you could think better of it, you dialed Kirishima. He answered on the fourth ring. “Hey dude! What’s up?” “Kiri, I need your help. Can you come over now? I’ll explain when you get here.” “Yeah man, I’ll be right over. Hang tight.” A few short minutes later, there was a knock on your door. You opened it to see a tall, concerned looking redhead. You ushered him inside as you went back to the kitchen, continuing to make up care packs. “Hey, now what is it, Y/n? It sounded serious.” “It is and it isn’t,” you say; looking over at him as you shove gatorade into bags. “There’s a… family emergency. I need to go home right away for a few days.” “Ouch, that’s rough man! It’s Bakubro having his heat right now?” “Exactly. That’s why I need your help. Can you bring one of these bags to him each day? Make sure he eats and drinks at least? I know he trusts you.”

Kirishima nodded enthusiastically. “Of course man! Anything to help!” He looked over the supplies, inconspicuously checking what you’d already packed. “You want to scent some stuff for him before you go too?” You shook your head, forcing yourself not to wince as you lied to your friend yet again. “I’d better not. I don’t want to give him a bag of stuff soaked in distressed alpha scent. Besides, I scented some stuff for him this morning; that should be enough.”

Kirishima frowned but nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Have you told him yet?”

You shake your head. “No. No reason to stress him out until I know for sure what I’m dealing with, and call when I have a better idea. Might not even take a full day if I’m lucky.” “Yeah, hopefully. It’s really shit timing, isn’t it.” You nod as you place the last of the bags on the counter, satisfied with your work. “It is. But I trust you to take care of him. You’re a great alpha like that.” Kirishima chuckled and preened at the praise. “I am great, aren’t I? I’ll do my best, but I’m no match for you.” You give a small, tight smile as you walk to your junk drawer, rummaging until you find one of your spare keys. You chuck it at your friend, who catches it easily. “Here. This way you can let yourself in and just grab a bag each day.”

“Can do, Dudette! Anything else?”

You considered as you retrieved a duffle bag, making a mental list of what you’d need to pack. “Not really? I haven’t told anybody else that I’m going yet. Wasn’t sure if I should ask Mina or some of the others to check in too. You know how Bakugou can be with his heats, and I want to make sure he’s comfortable.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense. I’ll probably wait til tomorrow and see what he wants to do.” Kiri watched you as you paced around. “Need any help packing?”

You nodded with half a smile. “Yeah. Thanks, Kiri.”

In a few short hours you were packed with enough supplies for a few days, and on a train headed home. Your mother had agreed to meet you at the station. The scenery rushed by a window in a blur. Your eyes were unfocused as you watched the view whip by. You were really doing this. For the first time in years, you were leaving your omega… No. You were leaving Katsuki alone for his heat. You were leaving him alone so you could go to a marriage date. To meet an omega theoretically with the intention of bonding. Guilt weighed heavily on you as you exited the train hours later. You saw your mother waving to you from across the station. This was it. No turning back now.

~~~

Bakugou growled as the morning light streamed in his window, smacking him across the eyes. He wished he could just sleep until the whole fucking heat was over. He hated everything about it. He hated the itching of his skin, the hazy fog affecting his brain, the slimy slick that oozed out of him steadily. He hated the burning need to fuck and breed and to have his alpha close. Bakugou snarled to himself. He refused to be a slave to his weak ass biology. He wasn’t some weak, pitiful, flower. He was a top ten hero! He was going to be number one! And the next bastard who told him he should be home tending to his pups and letting an alpha take care of him was going to get an explosion up the ass. As if he needed some knotted headed alpha. Bakugou glanced at his clock, frowning when he saw the time. Usually his alpha would be here by now to drop off his care bag. He scratched at the swollen, irritated scent glands on his neck. It’s not like he fucking cared if Y/N was late. Just, he couldn’t remember the last time she had been. And maybe he was getting antsy because the strength of his heat scent was already starting to overpower the scented blanket he had woven into his nest, close to his pillows.

A knock sounded from the door, and with a relieved huff Bakugou rushed to answer it. He took a deep breath in to calm himself, before flinging the door open.

“About fucking time you showed up, shitty…” He trailed off as his brain registered the tall, red-headed man standing in front of him was very much not his alpha. “What the fuck are you doing here, shitty hair?”

Kirishima rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. “Hey man, sorry not to call beforehand, but I told Y/N I wouldn’t.” Confused, Bakugou looks Kirishima up and down again, this time spotting the familiar bag the redhead was holding. “What the fuck are you doing with my stuff? Where’s my shitty alpha?” Kiri frowned and held up the bag. “Don’t call Y/N shitty. She asked me to bring this over. Look, man, can I just come in and explain what’s going on?”

Reluctantly, Bakugou stood aside holding the door open as his friend came in. The blond stuck his head into the hallway, half looking for his alpha. His inner omega growing restless when there was no sign of you. With a grumble, he slammed the door, turning to where his friend had thrown himself onto the sofa. “So what the fuck, Kirishima? Where’s Y/N? Why didn’t she come here herself?”

Kiri tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling. “She had some sort of family emergency and had to go home for a bit. She didn’t want to worry you because she didn’t know how serious it was or how long it would take. She said she’d call and update us when she’s able to.”

Bakugou’s omega whimpered in his chest. His alpha was gone? His alpha had left him alone when he couldn’t follow to make sure they were alright? He knew how much your family stressed you out normally, let alone in an emergency. A traitorous part of his brain whispered to him, asking if this wasn’t exactly what he had wanted? Hadn’t he growled at his mate, wanting to be left alone? Bakugou hadn’t realized there was a plaintive whine escaping his throat until Kirishima wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, bro, it’s okay. I know it’s rough, but I’m here. And I can call Mina and Sero if you want company. Been a while since we’ve had a pack get together. Y/N might not be here right now, but she wanted to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.”

Bakugou nodded stiffly as he went to go paw through the bag Kirishima had brought.

Jerky, drinks, chocolate- Bakugou frowned. “Was this the only bag?”

“I mean, there’s a bag for each day for about a week’s worth; so I just grabbed one. Why man, something missing? Need me to go get you something?”

Katsuki shook his head. He wasn’t going to ask Kirishima of all people where his usual bag of scented items was. If Y/N was in a rush, that would explain it. Bakugou hoped that was the case, and he wouldn’t have to actually ask you to scent things for him again. He’d rather be kidnapped by villains again than admit to how much your rich chocolate scent soothed him and helped him sleep peacefully. There was no way the items you had left yesterday would last him through the rest of his heat.

“Actually, shitty hair, could you go get me some Yakult? Been craving it this heat.” Kiri jumped up with a grin. “Sure, bro! No problem! Be right back!” The omega gave a lazy wave as Kiri jogged out the door. As soon as the door shut, he bolted to the bathroom and applied as much scent blocker as he could stand. It wouldn’t hold up long against his heat pheromones, but should work for what he intended to do. Bakugou grabbed his keyring from the hook by the door, rushed down the hallway to the stairway, and started climbing upward; taking the stairs three at a time. In less than a minute, he was standing outside the door to your apartment.

It felt strange, Katsuki thought as he flipped through his keys until he found yours. It was strange that in all your years of dating he had only been inside your apartment a handful of times. He unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. As the wall of scent that was uniquely you smacked him in the face, he felt the tension in his shoulders ease. Maybe the strangest thing was that you lived three floors apart instead of sharing a space together. Because then he wouldn’t be here, doing this; he thought as he made a beeline to your bedroom. He knew exactly what he was after. Recently scented items lost their smell fairly quickly. But something you used daily, with your scent glands brushing against it every time? That would last him a month, if not longer. Besides. You were his alpha. He wouldn’t have to come in and steal your pillow if you had just scented more stuff for him in the first place. He buried his face in your pillow and inhaled deeply. He whimpered as your rich scent filled his nose, causing his slick to increase. Reluctantly he made his way to the door with his prize, even as every instinct told him to build a nest on the soft bed and wait for his mate to come home to him.

~~~~~

You sighed, adjusting the cuffs of the outfit your mother had picked and shoved you into. Today was the day. The day you met your perspective “bride.” You snorted at the old fashioned ideology. At times like these you felt like you understood Bakugou better. Omegas deserved to be treated as more than just their dynamic. Luckily, most of society agreed nowadays; with omegas able to hold any job and no one being forced to marry. Unluckily, the omiai remained one of the last extremely traditional accepted ceremonies. Your parents were in another room, exchanging your scented handkerchief with one from whoever the poor omega was. According to tradition, if you both went into heat and rut upon scenting each other; you would both be married and mated that same day. What happened more often, you thought cynically, is as long as you didn’t gag at each other’s scent, you’d meet in person to see if you found each other compatible.

You were broken out of your ruminations by the sound of a door opening. Your mother practically skipped toward you, holding out the paper wrapped package with the hanky inside. You tuned out her nattering about how good this match could be as you unwrapped the paper and brought the cloth to your nose. Your brow furrowed. You inhaled deeply, just to make sure. The sharp tang of citrus hit your nose. You knew this scent from somewhere. “Hey mom,” you spoke softly. “I think I’d like to see them now.”

“Oh!” Your mother blinked in surprise. “Of course, of course! This way!”

Your mother led you into an elegant private room. You settled onto a cushion as your parents went to see if the omega had agreed to meet. Glancing about the room, you wondered exactly how many times you’d see the inside of this teahouse if you kept agreeing to these meetings. It didn’t feel right, you thought with a frown. But if you gave up on Bakugou, this was your destiny. Awkward meeting after awkward meeting until you clicked enough with someone to risk settling down.

You glanced up at the sound of the door. In came your parents, then the Yokomadas. You did a double take as the final person, the omega you were here to meet, entered the room. They looked equally as startled as your eyes locked.

“Y/N?”

“Denki?!”

That's it for part 2! Thank you for reading, and stay tuned for part 3! If anyone has any questions regarding the fic or how this particular omegaverse operates, please feel free to shoot me an ask.

Taglist- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04 Also, please note that @snuggleyourredpandas is my main account, so it you see a message reply from them, that's me!

#reader insert #bnha reader insert #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #reader insert angst #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #omegaverse #omega bakugou #alpha reader #multi part fic

[archived-kin]

caught in a twin courtship

note from kin: i’m going to be honest i only really wrote this because the title is fun to say, so it isn’t as cohesive as i normally would have wanted to make it

(this is an au where the twins aren’t separated by the unknown god! instead, just their world-hopping powers were stolen, and that’s why they’re journeying to find said god - to get their powers back so that they can go home. i’ve also excluded paimon since i kind of forgot about her while writing this haha)

(this doesn’t follow canon at all since reader and the twins just kind of start wandering about after the dvalin incident rather than heading straight for liyue oops)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lumine, aether, diluc, venti, jean

pairing(s): aether/reader/lumine

warning(s): i don’t think so??

genre: fluff with a little bit sprinkling of angst

you first meet the twins in the aftermath of the stormterror battle. it isn’t a glamorous introduction by any means - it’s pretty unflattering, actually - but it definitely makes a powerful first impression.

the group - aether, lumine, venti, diluc, and jean - are on their way back to mondstadt city, making small talk here and there, but mostly just walking in silence.

then they hear a yell in the distance.

jean and lumine both drop into a battle stances, venti leaps to hide behind aether with a very unmanly squeak of fear… but diluc, who arguably should have been the most alerted by this occurrence, just gives a resigned sigh and pauses.

a split second later, a figure comes speeding up to the group. you barrel up to diluc and immediately punch him square in the stomach, yelling “why didn’t you tell me you were going after stormterror?!”

aether and venti both give matching gasps of horror at the blatant disrespect, but diluc only shakes his head and catches your fist as it goes for another blow, this one aimed at his chest, and chastises, “calm down, i left a note.”

“i left a note,” you mimic, an absolutely awful impression that has you sounding more like a mosquito than the darknight hero, “fat lot of use that is when you aren’t even telling me where you’re going!”

diluc evades another jab at his arm and firmly sets his hands on both your shoulders, effectively anchoring you to the ground. you contemplate swinging your feet at his knees and knocking him over, or maybe shocking him with your electro vision, but ultimately decide that you might as well try to preserve what little dignity you have left in front of those three people you’ve never met before

so you stop with a defeated sigh and turn to face said three people to introduce yourself

it turns out that you’re diluc’s cousin and he’s been having to baby-sit you for the last few years after your own parents left on a ‘business trip’ to snezhnaya that they’re still not back from

you’re pretty sure they’re dead, killed by the fatui, and you say as much during your introduction without even the slightest sign of distress, which is a little unsettling

lumine’s first thought is that you’re quite the interesting character, what with the casual way you treat diluc, and how you don’t seem to question whatever situation lead you to meet in the first place

aether’s first thought is holy shit, they’re cute

one twin greets you in return with a lot more enthusiasm than the other, and venti the bard wastes no time in asking whether you have access to good master diluc’s wine storage

(you’d be shocked by the audacity if you weren’t just as bad as him when it came to shamelessness)

strangely enough, the fact that aether likes you so much actually makes lumine more wary of you than she was initially

aether trusts too easily, and from experience, that usually leads to disaster - and your flippancy regarding your parents’ apparent probable deaths rather inclines her to think that you might be a very dangerous person indeed

the three of you don’t see each other for a couple of days after that - you and diluc leave for dawn winery together, while the twins depart with venti to wrap their whole situation up, and jean returns to her duties in mondstadt city

all this time, apparently unbeknownst to even himself, aether keeps finding ways to bring you up in the middle of conversation

you’d only spoken to him for a few minutes and somehow that as enough to get him absolutely fascinated

lumine would be lying if she said she wasn’t still curious about you as well, but it gets annoying after aether somehow manages to mention how ‘mysterious’ your black cloak is in the middle of a conversation about why mitachurls are able to randomly set their axes on fire

luckily for these two, they happen to run into you the very next day!

you’re in the middle of taking out a ruin guard stomping around the thousand winds temple -  a ruin guard that the twins had been meaning to take down themselves, which is why they’re here in the first place

at first they move to help you, only to stop short and watch in awe as you plunge down at the ruin guard from atop one of the enormous pillars, your polearm held steady in your grasp as your entire body seems to spark and glow with a deep purple electro energy

the sharp blade of your polearm goes clean through the top of the ruin guard’s head and shatters its core, and it sinks to the ground with a massive thud that echoes around the temple ruins, massive wooden limbs twitching and jerking as the last of your vision’s energy disperses from it

aether and lumine are basically star-struck

from there you spot them and call them over for a conversation, show them how to take apart a ruin guard’s circuits to get at the good parts, and somehow end up agreeing to journey with them across teyvat in their search for an unknown god who stole their abilities to hop from world to world as well as their apparent true power that allows them to wield all seven elements at once

the details are a little lost on you, but what you’re hearing is that you get to go on a cool adventure with a cool gal and a cool lad, so you’re pretty much all for it

diluc isn’t too happy about you up and leaving without so much as two week’s notice (partially because he has literally no friends apart from you and he’d get lonely without his little cousin bothering him all the time) but you simply tell him to deal with it and go anyway

(you do give him a big hug and promise to visit, you’re not heartless)

from then on you, aether and lumine become a dynamic trio like no other

it’s actually pretty damn spooky how well the three of you end of working together

aether and lumine had long since formed a style of fighting that meant they made up for each other’s weak spots and could attack in perfect sync, but then you come along and somehow manage to make their already pretty flawless formation even better

is it witchcraft? they honestly don’t know

considering you fit so well into their battle strategies, it follows that you’d also slot perfectly into their every day life

lumine is cautious at first, wondering if your presence would disrupt her and her brother’s long since pre-established routines, but you fit in so naturally that it’s as if you were there all long

maybe it it’s this that makes both twins slowly start falling for you - the comfort of being beside you and the familiarity that you bring are things that they struggled to find, being trapped in a world far from their own with no way to get out, and they unknowingly latch onto you like drowning men clutching lifebuoys

aether is the most obvious about his feelings - he starts waking up earlier just because he knows you do, sitting beside you as you stoke a campfire and keep watch for any approaching monsters, making quiet conversation as lumine continues sleeping. he tells you stories about his adventures in other worlds, including an encounter with a rather bigoted individual who is the reason that he keeps his hair so long while lumine’s has been cut short

he even starts taking his hair out of its braid before he goes to sleep so that he can ask you to braid it for him when he wakes up

lumine is a lot more subtle

she finds excuses to stand closer to you when, deliberately brushing her fingers against yours when handing you something. she listens far more attentively to you when you speak than anyone else, and she smiles far more in your presence, hanging onto your every word and gazing at you so intensely that it’s almost unsettling

of course, the twins notice each other’s feelings pretty easily

at first neither acknowledges it - it’d be far too messy for both to accept that they’d both fallen in love with the same person, let alone actually admit this to each other

but it gets to the point where it just isn’t ignorable anymore, and finally the twins decide to talk

it’s about as civil and sensible as they could hope for with the subject at hand, and they eventually decide to talk to you about it

and so, we come to an ultimatum. what will your choice be?

if you reject both, it’ll be hard to continue adventuring with twins who can’t look in your direction. neither resent you, of course, but the atmosphere has become so stifling that they can’t even make eye contact

it’s as if an enormous gap has opened up between the three of you. the twins are avoiding each other as well, unsure of how to handle the fact that they’re both in love with the same person and have now both been rejected by that same person. if anything, they should be becoming closer out of solidarity, but it seems that they can’t stand to be in each other’s presence as much as they can’t stand to be in yours.

the three of you still work together as seamlessly in battle as you did before, but once the final monster has been cut down and your weapons are sheathed, that connection seems to disappear again.

it’s aether who finally breaks the stalemate. he starts trying to start conversations as the three of you sit awkwardly apart from each other around a fire, and while the first few attempts end in stony silence and an awkward cough on his part, eventually you begin replying with some semblance of the humour you used to

from there things only improve - the three of you come to a silent mutual agreement to leave this behind you, and soon you’re all laughing and joking as you used to

lumine and aether both know that they cannot force you to love either of them, and they respect your choice. if anything, they’re the ones in the wrong for springing something like this on you so suddenly, and they start to feel a little guilty that they were essentially pressuring you into making a choice that you were never obligated to make

so they return to treating you as a dear friend, just as before. things are different now, of course, but they can only be grateful that you continue to travel with them and stay by their side; this situation doesn’t make them love you any less, even if you don’t love them in the same way.

if you choose lumine, aether will be understanding. the twins have been each other’s only support for longer than they can remember, and as the older brother, he’s well used to giving things up for his sister.

he’ll still be friendly and amicable, but he won’t seek you out as much as he did before. he starts braiding his hair by himself again, and stays in bed as late as he can every morning so that he doesn’t have to be face to face with you. just because he’s accepted this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

sometimes, when the sky grows dark and you and lumine have long since fallen asleep beside each other, he wonders to himself - why is it that he has to give everything to his sister? he’s given away so much, so why couldn’t the universe let him have this one thing?

but he knows, deep down, that this is nothing to do with the universe - you simply fell in love with someone that wasn’t him, his sister at that, and he’s struggling to come to terms with it.

he wants to hate you, hate lumine, hate the relationship that the two of you have formed, but he just can’t. he loves the both of you in different ways that are just as important as each other, and he can’t stand to lose either of you. he’d rather throw himself off of starsnatch cliff.

so he’ll smile and bear it, even if it’s a battle to keep himself from breaking down every time he sees the two of you lace your hands together, off in your own little word, so near and yet so far from him.

if you choose aether, lumine will become cold. at first, that is. she’s never been as empathetic as her brother, always holding grudges and developing dislike much more easily. it had taken a lot for her to open up to you in the first place, and now that you’ve rejected her, it’s going to take a while for her to return to the same camaderie with you that she had before.

lumine does not begrudge aether for being the one you chose. if anything, she’s glad - aether is always putting her first and himself second, and she’s happy that he has someone like you, who lights his eyes up in a way that she’s never seen before.

but our hearts often betray our mind, after all, and lumine can’t help but scowl and turn away every time she sees her brother wrap his arms around your waist or press a kiss to your cheek. despite her best efforts, all she can think is why? why did you have to choose him?

she can’t bring herself to hate you, though. as much as it feels like her heart is threatening to split down the middle when she sees you smile and is reminded of something that she cannot have, there is an equal joy in the fact that her brother can be with the person that he loves so dearly. if anything, the two of you deserve to be happy together.

lumine would never do anything that could take that away, and so she forces herself to accept it. it takes several days of tentative conversation and barely held back tears, but eventually the two of you seem to return to the way you were before - all friendly jabs and light-hearted banter and little jokes exchanged over crossed blades.

but lumine knows that your friendship can never be quite the same as it was before. she’ll forever be holding you at arm’s length, terrified to let you get too close lest you see how much your presence affects her. she can’t let you know how much she loves you because she will never be the one who links hands with you as you walk down a long, winding path, or the one who holds you close under a darkening sky filled with stars - because that person is aether, and she would sooner die before she takes her brother’s happiness away.

if you refuse to choose, the twins will be at a loss at what to do. they hadn’t considered this scenario - that you had somehow come to love both of them.

the confusion becomes joy soon enough, though. they realise what this means - they both love you, and you love both of them! isn’t this perfect?

neither are particularly thrilled at the concept of ‘sharing’ you with the other, so to speak, but in the end they both equally want each other to be happy as they want you to be, so the logical conclusion is that they both become your partners.

they’re not too sure how this should work, nor what sort of label to put on it, but they come to you tentatively with the idea anyway

to their joyous surprise, you agree!

and from then marks the point of no return…

aether is definitely the clingier of the two. once he realises that he’s allowed to show affection and be close to you for no particular reason, he won’t stop - it’s as if he absolutely has to be holding your hand or be standing or sitting  as close to you as physically possible. he’s always buying you souvenirs at every place you stop by, scaling trees to pick apples for you when you mention a craving for fruit, presenting you little treasures that he’s found with all the pride of a golden retriever.

lumine is a more subdued kind of partner, preferring to demonstrate her feelings with little things like making your favourite food for dinner or bringing you sprigs of flowers that she’s secretly been collecting in order to present you with them. of course, that doesn’t mean she isn’t physically affectionate at all - she presses perhaps even closer to you than aether when you sleep beside her, and somehow her hand finds yours at every opportunity she has.

the twins clash every now and then, as siblings often do, except that you’re usually caught in the middle. their arguments are little more than playful squabbles, though - things like play-fighting over who gets to hug you first after a well-fought battle, or who gets to hold your hand on the way to the next village (you have to step in and remind them that you do, in fact, have two hands)

in conclusion: why choose one when you can have both and prevent the unchosen from having endless amounts of angst?

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin aether #genshin lumine #genshin traveller #aether x reader #lumine x reader #traveller x reader #fluff #love triangle #kinda?? #just a little angst #as a treat #genshin diluc #genshin venti #unedited

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Ch. 10)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: the angst continues, but this time there are glimmers of progress

Word Count: 7,221

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

For the first time all year, Jimin didn’t show up at class the next day.

You’d been dreading seeing him, unable to sleep all night as the kiss replayed itself in your mind. You’d told Jimin you needed to think and now, one day later, you still had no idea what to say.

You’d fucked up – big time.

Cheater had never been a label you would’ve applied to yourself; but here you were, scarlet letter on your chest. Yesterday seemed fuzzy whenever you remembered it, as though it had happened to you, as opposed to being something you’d done. Each time you recalled the moment, the kiss, your heart threatened to burst in your chest. You weren’t sure if this was because of Jimin or Finn.

Finn still hadn’t texted or called you since the fight. Maybe fight wasn’t the right word to describe the knock-down, blowout match you’d had in the library. You and Finn had never fought like that before. You’d had disagreements of course but had always managed to work things out. This was the first time you’d left an argument and found yourself at a loss.

Finn wanted a more available girlfriend and you wanted to dance.

Deep down, you knew this was an unsolvable problem, but the idea just seemed so unfathomable. The idea that this would be the thing to break you up. It hadn’t been a problem back in high school. Maybe Finn hadn’t always come to your dance competitions, but he’d attended recitals and brought you flowers at nearby performances. He’d always seemed to enjoy your dancing, even if he hadn’t fully understood it.

It made your heart ache to imagine that deep down, Finn thought your decisions were foolish. When you awoke Thursday morning, you saw Finn hadn’t called and nearly dialed his number, but then you looked at the clock and swore. Ballet began in an hour.

This conversation wasn’t one to do over the phone. Talking to Finn would have to wait, so you scrambled out of bed and threw on your clothes. Noelle had comforted you the best she could the night prior, but she still didn’t know the extent of what’d happened. All you’d said was you had a fight with Finn.

Saying it out loud felt like admitting defeat. Admitting what you’d done meant you’d have to see Noelle’s expression when you explained – when you told her you’d kissed Jimin while still dating Finn. You didn’t want to see her face when she learned the truth; you were having enough difficulty confronting it yourself.

Pushing this from mind, you focused on today as you entered the classroom. You would be forced to see Jimin this morning. You’d been so worried about talking to Finn, you’d nearly forgotten about the other piece of the equation.

You had kissed Jimin, and then you’d run away.

As you entered, you scanned the room and frowned when you didn’t immediately see him. Jimin usually arrived before you and Noelle. Setting your bag down, you began to warm up and continued to glance at the clock. At one minute until the hour, you began to grow nervous. If Jimin didn’t arrive in the next thirty seconds, the door to the room would shut and that would be that.

Watching the second hand tick, your stomach twisted as the unthinkable happened. Jimin didn’t show up. Ballet on Thursdays was taught by Mr. Vlad, who was notoriously punctual and at exactly 9:00 AM, he shut the door.

You had the sudden urge to check your phone for missed texts, but there was no time. Instead, you were forced to stand at the barre as you began pliés. You knew the second you started today would be a lost cause but could do nothing about it. Your relationship with Finn was in shambles, Jimin was clearly avoiding you but still, you needed to dance.

After class, you called Finn and went again to voicemail. Standing alone in your dorm room, you swallowed and tossed your phone on the bed. Fine – if he wouldn’t answer, you’d go and see him.

Stripping out of your leotard, you tossed this in the laundry to pull on new clothes. Jeans, sweater, coat – slamming a hat on your head, you shoved both hands in mittens and threw your bag over your shoulder. You were halfway out the door when you came to a stop.

You had no idea what to say to Finn.

Shutting your eyes, you slowly exhaled. You were angry, that much was true. Furious, even – his words had been biting, you were still hurting but you also still loved him, as insane as that sounded. Opening your eyes, you glanced at your trembling hands.

You hated feeling this way – weak, irrational. You hated wanting Finn, loving him and being so hurt all at the same time. Worse still, you hated the guilt clouding your judgement and lessening some of your anger. Finn had been wrong to say what he’d said, but you’d also been wrong to kiss Jimin.

For weeks now, you’d felt something for Jimin. Maybe months if you were being totally honest with yourself. Jimin had always consumed a larger amount of your waking hours than could be considered entirely normal for a supposed enemy.

Slowly, you turned and set down your keys. Removing your hat from your head, you stared at the door. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you sat at your desk and dialed Finn’s number.

It rang several times and then went to voicemail. This time, you didn’t hang up.

“Hey. It’s me.” You paused. “Finn, listen, I… we need to talk. Things have gotten so messed up lately. So… fucked up, right? I’m pissed, Finn. I’m really mad at you, but that’s not the only reason we need to talk. I – just call me back. Okay?”

You hesitated, wanting to tell him I love you, but forced yourself to hang up instead. Lowering your phone to your lap, you released a sigh. You supposed for all your avoidance of Finn, you deserved to give him a little more time to think.

Even though sitting here not doing anything was killing you.

As stupid as it sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to break up over the phone. That would be considered the lowest of low. If you even wanted to break up, that is. It had been less than a week since you’d first had the thought in the cab – maybe you and Finn didn’t belong together. It seemed like a foreign concept still, as nonsense to you as chopping off your own hand.

But you couldn’t ignore things any longer. Something was obviously wrong between you. You needed to talk, you needed to lay all cards on the table and decide where you’d go next.

Closing your eyes, you leaned back in the chair. Without quite meaning to, your thoughts wandered to Jimin.

This seemed to happen more and more lately. You weren’t sure when he started vying for Finn’s place in your mind. The shift had been subtle, a change you’d barely noticed at first. But no – that wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t as though Jimin had taken Finn’s place, but rather forged an entirely new one.

What you felt for Jimin was different from how you felt for Finn. With Finn, things between you were comfortable, things – had – felt supportive and strong. Now, Finn was none of those things to you, but he still didn’t compare to how you felt for Jimin.

Jimin was like a breath of fresh air after being inside for too long. He was something you hadn’t even realized you missed until you went out. You wouldn’t feel like this for Jimin unless something were wrong with the room you were currently in.

Suddenly, you felt very tired.

You’d always prided yourself on your ability to persevere, on your talent for overcoming by simply pushing on. This though wasn’t something you could solve through sheer force of will. The mess you’d created was only made worse by your infernal stubbornness.

Opening your phone, you flipped to the thread between you and Jimin. The last text he’d sent you had been a TikTok before the night of the kiss. True to his word, Jimin had pretended to forget all about the club and instead, simply returned to being your friend. Rereading your texts, you felt your chest tighten.

It wasn’t as though Jimin had been entirely innocent.

He’d known you had a boyfriend, but you’d never done anything to push him away. You’d been the one to move closer in the club. You had been the one to kiss him first. Jimin didn’t deserve to be treated this way and slowly, you lowered your head to your hands.

It was too much. By all rights, several people should hate you right now and you had no idea how to fix any of it.

Looking up, you set your jaw and sent Jimin a text.

Y/N: you weren’t in ballet class today. Is everything okay? [3:14 PM]

It took Jimin a while to respond. While you waited, you stared at the ceiling, then the floor until you saw ellipses typing. Jimin paused, then stopped and started again. After several long minutes, you got a new text.

Jimin: was sick, sorry [3:22 PM]

Y/N: that sucks :/ [3:22 PM]

Jimin: Y/N. What do you want? [3:23 PM]

Swallowing hard, you sat back. You had no idea what you wanted, and therein lay the problem. Belatedly, you realized you couldn’t have this conversation before you talked to Finn. You couldn’t know what you were apologizing for until you knew where you stood with your current relationship.

You needed more time, which was what you had told Jimin yesterday – and then proceeded to ignore, texting him now.

Y/N: nothing. I’m sorry. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay [3:25 PM]

He started typing again, then stopped. This happened a few more times and you imagined Jimin rewriting whatever it was he wanted to tell you. Finally, he sent his text and you felt your heart sink.

Jimin: yeah. I’m fine. [3:27 PM]

Y/N: okay [3:28 PM]

Placing your phone to the side, you fought back the tears which now threatened to fall.

You’d never imagined yourself an emotional person, so you couldn’t imagine where all this was coming from. Some long-lost, pent-up part of yourself which throbbed and whispered how stupid you were. Stupid to have fought with Finn, stupid to have pushed Jimin away, stupid to have kissed him and hurt everyone in the process.

Climbing into your bed, you curled into a ball and let the tears fall until you had nothing left.

The next morning, you walked into ballet class with red-rimmed eyes. Noelle had returned yesterday afternoon, taken one look at your face and transitioned to mom mode. She thought your breakdown was all about Finn and you hadn’t bothered to correct her. In a way, it all was.

He still hadn’t called. When you woke, you battled again whether to go to Redfield and confront him in person. That hadn’t worked out so well the last time, but it was driving you crazy to exist in this state of not knowing.

When you entered class Friday morning, you saw an unfamiliar woman at the front and felt your heart sink. In the chaos of this past week, you’d nearly forgotten about today’s master class.

Maisie Vern was a renowned choreographer of classical ballet. She’d choreographed for some of the most well-known ballets all over the world, with her pas de deux choreography receiving comparisons to Balanchine originals.

You’d completely forgotten she was teaching today. Starting to panic, you forced yourself to stay calm. Just because your private life was falling to pieces didn’t mean this needed to manifest in your dancing. You could do this.

And then Jimin walked into the room and you realized you couldn’t.

He looked as tired as you felt, dark circles shadowed beneath his eyes. He hardly glanced your way as he entered, crossing to the other side to set down his things. Following him with your gaze, you watched Jimin begin to stretch at the barre. Dark hair fell over his forehead, hiding his face from view.

Forcing yourself not to look, you noticed Seokjin standing at the front. Seeing him beside Miss Vern made your stomach sink. Seokjin was in high demand as a teacher’s assistant; the only reason he’d be here was if he were assisting Miss Vern. And if he were assisting Miss Vern, this meant today’s combination must be a pas de deux.

Confirming your growing dread, Miss Vern clapped both her hands. She was dressed in a slouchy sweater, wispy bun and flat canvas ballet shoes. Effortlessly standing in first position, she glanced around the room.

“Hello,” she said. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Maisie Vern. We have a long class today, so make sure your water bottles are full. For the first hour we’ll warm up at the barre, then we’ll move to center and learn some choreography. I will warn you,” she said, raising her brow. “This pas de deux is from a ballet I’m choreographing for the San Francisco ballet, so it has never been performed live before. Therefore! A certain amount of professionalism and confidentiality is expected.”

Whispers swept the room, everyone eager for the opportunity to prove their worth. Even you found yourself awed by the moment – it was a privilege to dance in the same room as Maisie Vern, let alone learn choreography she’d yet to reveal to the public.

“Now.” Miss Vern gestured to Seokjin. “Some of you might know Kim Seokjin, my assistant for the day. He comes to me highly recommended and will help demonstrate some of the more complicated lifts. Today’s pas de deux is less about the choreography though, and more about the emotion.”

Hearing this, you froze at the barre.

“The ballet is a modern-day retelling of the Odyssey epic. Our hero, Odysseus, has just returned home and is reunited with his love, Penelope. He suspects her of cheating in his absence, so he disguises himself as someone else to test her. Penelope realizes who he is and is furious at her husband for his lack of faith.”

Your gaze darted to Jimin. He stared ahead at Miss Vern, but you could see his jaw tense from all the way across the room.

“This pas de deux is all about tension! Two people in love but pushed beyond their limits. Time and distrust have come between them. This,” Miss Vern announced, “will be the goal of you ballerinas and danseurs to convey.”

All around, a few people nodded, but most of the class seemed unnerved by the prospect. Thus far, your classes at Russet had mainly focused on technique. Even in weekly variations class, the emphasis had been on learning the choreography, rather than on how to tell a story.

This was the hallmark of a great dancer, though. Being able to act as you moved, telling a story which the audience could understand.

“It will be a challenge,” Miss Vern said. “However, I think you will find it to be enjoyable. With that said, let’s start at the barre. Pliés!”

Everyone scrambled to stand, including you and Noelle. Pressing play on the music, Miss Vern demonstrated the combination before you began. Barre passed quickly, possibly because you were dreading center so much. All too soon, the hour was up, and Miss Vern instructed the class to find their partners.

Warily, you crossed the room and came to a stop beside Jimin. He looked up as you approached but kept his face carefully neutral. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking and for a moment, felt a glimmer of resentment.

It had taken two people to kiss in that practice room.

Jimin had known you were taken, just as much as you’d known you were dating Finn. Even if you’d started the kiss, Jimin hadn’t stopped it – if anything, he’d kissed you back.

The moment you thought this, some of your anger drained away. Jimin had wanted to talk, but you hadn’t let him. Maybe you’d realized you felt something for him since then, but Jimin had never said anything similar to you.

For all you knew, he’d simply been caught in the moment. It wasn’t as though Jimin had ever said anything about wanting to be more than friends.

“Alright!” Miss Vern clapped her hands. “Ballerinas, you’ll start offstage. We begin at the end of the male solo. By this point in the choreography, Penelope and Odysseus have reunited. In her solo, we realize she knows who he is. In his solo, he’s angry to hear she’s entertained other suitors. They reunite for the coda!”

Glancing again at Jimin, he immediately looked down. The kernel of anger returned and this time, it grew larger. Although yes, you’d initially run away, you had at least tried to reach out to him yesterday. Jimin had been the one to skip class and shut you down.

It wasn’t fair for him to expect you to have all the answers. You had a boyfriend and you’d kissed. Clearly, you had a few things to work through.

Jaw tense, you separated from Jimin and went to stand on the sidelines. Miss Vern began teaching the danseurs the end of their solo, instructing the men to spread out on the floor. Unscrewing the cap of your water bottle, you took a large, angry sip.

As the music began, the male dancers followed suit while you watched from the side.

“Y/N?”

Turning your head, you found Sabrina before you.

She was dressed in her usual ballet clothes, but there was something about her which seemed different today. Maybe it was the hesitancy in her expression.

Looking at her in surprise, you wondered what she had to say. The fight you’d had on Halloween night seemed so far away but had barely been a week ago.

“Yeah?” you said as you set down your water.

Sabrina hesitated, seeming at war with herself. “Hey. So, I was wondering…”

Miss Vern yelled a correction at the group. Gaze darting sideways, you attempted to see who it had been directed to. After a moment, you returned to Sabrina.

“Wondering what?” you said, arching a brow.

“I was just… wondering if we could talk,” Sabrina finished lamely.

You blinked and stared at her in surprise. Out of everything, this was quite possibly the last thing you’d suspected would happen today. Before you could respond though, Miss Vern called for ballerinas to enter.

“Ballerinas!” She motioned you forward. “Your entrance will come from the top right wing. Run through the center and find your partner.”

“I – okay,” you said, realizing Sabrina waited for an answer. “Later.”

Sabrina frowned, about to respond but Miss Vern clapped her hands again, forcing you to move. Hurrying past, you hastily positioned yourself in the back of the room. With everything else that was happening, you didn’t really have time to worry about another enemy.

Speaking of whom – Jimin’s gaze hardened when you approached and in response to this, anger flared in your belly.

You’d asked him to give you time and he had agreed. It seemed this was no longer the case.

Woodenly, Jimin held out his hand. Staying carefully neutral, you took this as Miss Vern began to teach you the steps. She hadn’t been lying when she’d called the pas de deux difficult. By necessity, some of your anger disappeared as you focused on learning.

Jimin seemed equally concentrated, barely looking your way while he practiced. It took nearly forty-five minutes to learn the entire coda, with Miss Vern stopping partway for a water break. By the time you knew the choreography, both of you were sweating.

Miss Vern had also been right to call the pas de deux one about tension. At the start, Jimin’s character was testing Penelope. This involved him pulling you towards him, turning you and making you chase him – until halfway through the coda, when Penelope snapped. Choreography shifting, you began to chase him, revealing you knew who he was.

The choreography was intricate, necessitating trust between partners. Despite everything, you were relieved to find this still existed between you. When you jumped, you knew Jimin would catch you. When you fell, you knew his hands would find your waist.

Still, this didn’t mean things had returned normal. As you practiced a fouetté, turning quickly to face him, Jimin gripped your wrist harder than usual. Wincing, you pushed on towards the next jump.

The combination involved several lifts, one of which was the most psychologically taxing. It involved Jimin lifting you overhead with your front leg extended, holding only your waist. While not the most difficult move technically, it required a certain fortitude of mind to dangle, upside-down from his arms.

This certainly wasn’t helped by the fact that Jimin kept grunting.

“Will you stop doing that?” you hissed as he set you back down.

A muscle in Jimin’s jaw ticked.

“Stop doing what?”

“Grunting. I keep thinking you’re about to drop me.”

Jimin gave you a look, chest heaving for breath. “Well, it’s hard.”

“Our job is to make it look easy.”

“Yeah, look easy,” he argued. “That doesn’t mean it actually is.”

“Well –”

“Let’s just try it again,” Jimin said, cutting you off.

After a moment, you nodded and returned to your position. As you began to practice with music, you felt a familiar sinking feeling in your stomach. It seemed you’d taken several steps backwards since the start of the year. Instead of continuing to grow as partners, you and Jimin had returned to the start.

As you repeated the steps, you felt his grip on you tighten, but Jimin lifted you overhead with nary a grunt. He set you back down, your leg extended in arabesque.

“Good!” said Miss Vern as she walked past. “Try to support her lower back more, though, Jimin. She shouldn’t be falling that far behind.”

As she walked away, Jimin nodded and exhaled a breath. Once she was gone, he turned sideways to face you. Again, his gaze was unfamiliar and cold.

“Alright,” Jimin said. “Again?”

“From where?”

“Middle of the partner section?”

You nodded, taking a step backwards to catch your breath. The break in the partner section began with you running towards him, Jimin catching you around the waist to sweep you into a fish lift.

As you ran through the steps, you tried to concentrate on the choreography. Not on your partner, nor on the uncertainties which roared through your mind. Jimin certainly didn’t seem to have the same qualms you did. By all accounts, Jimin was a sharp, perfunctory, and timely dance partner.

You found this to be maddening.

Just when you’d forgotten how strained things had become, he’d grip your hand a little too tightly, or turn you a little too sharply and your eyes would narrow. After another ten minutes of practice, Miss Vern called your attention by the stereo.

“Let’s try it full out,” she suggested. “I won’t hold the first time against you, but please do your best to execute every lift.”

The class grunted in agreement; wiping sweat from their brows, they retreated to their starting positions.

Glancing at Jimin, you said, “Full out?”

He nodded. “If you want.”

Turning on his heel, he walked across the room. You watched him go, your blood beginning to reach a boiling point. Jimin was acting like a petulant child. This was how he used to be in high school, back when he was your enemy and everything had been simpler, but you didn’t want that anymore.

Now that you knew who Jimin was, you couldn’t possibly go back to hating him. The very idea made your heart hurt.

Possibly you were being unfair, or naïve. Clearly, you’d hurt Jimin, but there wasn’t time to fix things between you before the end of class. You needed to be professional, you needed to pull your shit together and you needed Jimin to do the same. Turning around, you crossed the room and reached your starting spot.

Taking a deep breath, you waited for your cue.

When Miss Vern signaled the ballerinas to enter, you ran – and felt Jimin catch you by the wrist. He wasn’t gentle, pivoting you to a penché and waiting for you to rise. When you did, he crushed you to his chest and caught your knee in posse.

Teeth gritted, you kept your gaze on him while extending á la second. Hand finding your calf, Jimin raised your leg higher. His grip was rougher than usual, making you shiver as his hand slid to your ankle.

Gaze lidded, Jimin bent you in cambré. When he pulled you upwards to face him, your noses practically touched. Your frustration, previously under control, began to unwind.

“Why weren’t you in class yesterday?” you whispered.

Jimin’s eyes flashed, as though in warning. When you turned around, he caught you deftly around the waist. Pulling you to him, Jimin’s breath ghosted your neck.

“I told you,” he murmured. “I was sick.”

“Bullshit,” you said, breaking free of his hold.

Jimin followed close behind, his feet skimming the floor. As you piqued to arabesque, he caught up and pulled you against him.

“You’re avoiding me,” you accused.

“I’m not. And it’s not bullshit,” he added. Turning you around, Jimin dipped you, only to catch you before you hit the floor. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

The next part required more footwork, both of you circling the other. Your breathing was heavier the next time you were close enough to speak.

“You’ve barely spoken to me today,” you hissed.

A mirthless laugh left his lips. Spinning you sideways, Jimin caught you against his chest, your bodies pressed together in heated silence.

“I thought you told me not to say anything?” he said sweetly.

The next move tore you apart, your feet skimming the floor before Jimin caught up and lifted you high overhead. You saw the ground for a moment, heartbeat hammering your ribs before he set you back down. Chasséing forward, you battemented and were again caught by Jimin at the ankle.

Dragging you closer, his hand found your waist.

Stubbornly, you met his gaze. “I needed time to think.”

“Oh, did you?”

Releasing your leg, he lowered you to a penché. As you rose, you managed to say, “I did. And now, I think we should talk.”

Jimin snorted. “What’s there to talk about?”

Your next battement nearly hit him in the head. Jimin’s eyes widened, but it was all part of the choreography. Timed to a change in tempo, the choreography shifted to you as the pursuer.

On pointe, you ran forward, leaping into his arms at the last second. Fish dives were difficult, since they required complete trust of your partner, but Jimin caught you easily, cradling you close to his chest. 

Lips brushing your ear, he set you back down. “Are you still with him?” he asked, chest heaving behind you. “Your boyfriend?”

Meeting his gaze in the mirror, you hesitated. “Yes.”

His gaze hardened. “Then, there’s nothing to talk about.”

There was no time to respond since the next sequence involved Jimin chasséing away into a tour jeté. You followed with chainés, head whipping around to spot him every time. As soon as you were within speaking distance, you caught him by the arm again.

“I say there is,” you insisted. “Why are you making this so difficult?”

“Me?” Jimin barked a laugh as he turned. “You’re the one driving me crazy. Like you always do.”

“What the hell does that mean?” you said to him, baffled.

Jimin’s gaze cut to yours.

For the briefest of moments, you saw his façade break. All of his pain, all of his hurt and frustration shone through and you felt yourself falter. Staring at him, you couldn’t form a response.

Not that there was time. The dance hadn’t ended and class hadn’t stopped. Taking a slow step towards you, Jimin tenderly caught your attitude effacé and extended your leg. Dragging you forward, he pulled you across the floor.

As he came to a stop, Jimin swept your body to his as your fingers curled in his hair. In the choreography, the moment was one of near reconciliation between Penelope and Odysseus, a breather before their intense ending sequence. Jimin’s chest was concave with your breath, his gaze dark and lidded when he pulled back to see you.

You swallowed, disentangling yourself as you bourreéd away.

Heart pounding, you skimmed the floor with glissades, crossing the room with Jimin close behind. The final sequence was the grand reveal, with Penelope exposing Odysseus for who he is and forgiving his mistrust.

You could relate to the sequence.

Not all of it – had you been Penelope, you might have cheated while Odysseus had been away. You might have fallen for someone else; one of the suitors, perhaps. When you looked at Jimin now, you saw that clearly. There were feelings here which extended beyond a normal crush.

Still, you could relate to the dance. You could relate to Penelope’s frustration at Odysseus for being gone for so long. For leaving in the first place, for forcing her to withstand all her burdens alone. She’d been faithful to him and all he’d done was accuse her of cheating. You remembered Finn’s words to you in the library and felt your heart sink, since you’d ended up proving him right after all.

You’d also hurt Jimin though, which you hadn’t intended. Of course, he was angry – you’d repeatedly led him on, not pushing him away when you should have. And when things between you had finally snapped, you hadn’t let him speak. You’d run away.

Executing a double pirouette, you extended in attitude for a quick promenade. Shutting down your mind, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the music. Swept away by the characters, the dance and its emotions. The choreography became less important as the story came alive. Jimin’s hands were as familiar to you as your own, lifting you easily and setting you back on the ground.

Your heart ached with each step, wanting to be closer, wanting to be nearer to him than you were. As the steps slowed, you found yourself softening. Jimin’s hand slid to your thigh, settling you against his chest in a move reminiscent of the first time you’d felt a spark. Locking gazes with him, you inhaled and lifted your hand to rest on his cheek.

Time seemed to slow; you both felt and saw a muscle tick in his jaw. Jimin roughly exhaled, his chest pressed to yours as his gaze dropped to your lips.

“Bravo! Brava!”

Startled, both of you looked up.

Dazedly, you remembered you weren’t alone. You were in Miss Vern’s ballet class, most of whom had stopped dancing midway to watch. Placing you down on the ground, Jimin took a step backwards. Lacing both hands before him, he refused to meet your gaze, choosing instead to focus on Miss Vern.

“Beautifully done!” Crossing the floor, Miss Vern stopped before you. “The passion you showed! Such emotion, such artistry. My own principals couldn’t have done any better.”

Eyes widening, your lips parted. A flutter of incredulity went through you. It was unthinkable to receive such a high compliment from a teacher at Russet, let alone a choreographer as famed as Maisie Vern.

If you’d been looking for a sign to continue, this had to be it. One of the top choreographers in the world, commending your talent and somehow, her words didn’t feel nearly as good as when Jimin had said them.

Glancing at him, you found Jimin looking as stunned as you felt. The ache within you sharpened to a point, realizing how much he meant to you. How much you wanted his success, regardless of your own.

In that moment, you knew it had never been about anyone else’s perception of you as a dancer.

You knew you could do this. You knew you could make it at Russet, could make it as a dancer. Deep down, you’d always known this, despite your moments of doubt. Jimin had been right. You wanted to dance, you loved to dance and you would continue down this path regardless of what anyone else said.

That hadn’t been what crushed you about Finn’s words.

It had crushed you that after all this time, he still didn’t seem to know who you were. The fact that he could throw out those words so casually, as though you might simply stop dancing meant he didn’t see you. He might as well have asked you to stop breathing.

Jimin, though – Jimin understood. Jimin knew who you were. He’d been a part of your life for so long, he got what made you tick. He’d seen you at your worst, as your most bitter enemy and then again, as your most trusted partner.

It was part of why he meant so much to you.

You understood all this in the blink of an eye, then realized you hadn’t responded to Miss Vern’s praise.

“Oh,” you said, fighting to catch your breath. “I – thank you so much, Miss Vern. I honestly don’t know what to say.”

Miss Vern nodded, as though she were used to such a response. Beside you, Jimin was still breathing hard, but he nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

She nodded, not choosing to linger as she faced the room. “Use them as an example!” she said, striding towards the stereo. “Seokjin and I will demonstrate, but that is the level of performance you should aim for. Again!”

The rest of the class passed in a blur, some of the fight dissipated between you and Jimin. He was still quiet, but you didn’t push him again to speak. You’d done enough for now.

As the class came to an end, Miss Vern gathered you round to give a short speech. She thanked everyone for the pleasure of teaching and, once you were dismissed, turned towards the barre.

Jimin left before you could, throwing his things in his bag as he rushed from the room. You followed him with your eyes, knowing he was avoiding you, but not blaming him in the slightest.

Sabrina wasn’t far behind and your gaze lingered on her, remembering the attempted conversation during class. You still had no idea what she’d wanted to say but honestly, Sabrina was the least of your problems right now.

Exhaling, you stood from the ground and checked your phone. Still no word from Finn.

You were trying desperately to understand, trying to give him time to think, but after your fight on Wednesday, you honestly weren’t sure if you still had a boyfriend. Finn’s radio silence didn’t seem to indicate anything positive, but you refused to let this be the way things ended between you. He owed you that much, at least.

Returning to your dorm, the knot tightened further as you imagined what he might say. Both of you had said hurtful things and now, you needed to tell him something which would change your relationship forever.

You needed advice. You needed to talk to Fin. You needed to apologize, you needed–

Plopping down on your bed, you dialed the only number you could think of to call. Noelle had graciously left to stay at Irene’s, giving you the room to yourself.

Your mom answered on the first ring.

“Y/N? Hello?”

“Mom?” you said, your voice suddenly tight.

“Oh, honey” she said, hearing your shift. You heard a soft click, as though she’d entered the next room. “What’s going on?”

“I – nothing.”

Closing your eyes, you fought to control your breathing.

“Nothing, hm?” Your mom made a gentle noise. “You’re still coming home for the holidays, aren’t you? That’s not what this is about? Your dad won’t stop talking about plans for when you get here. He just goes on and on! You’d think he didn’t have a wife.”

“No, no,” you said, opening your eyes. “I just… missed you. That’s all.”

“Well, then call more!”

When you tried to laugh, the sound came out weaker than usual.

Your mom fell quiet for a moment. “That’s not all, is it?”

“… No.”

“Tell me,” she prodded.

So, you did.

Once you started talking, you found you couldn’t stop. Everything came pouring out. The difficulties you’d had at Russet, the need for private lessons, the injury to your ankle and everything going on with Finn. The time he missed brunch, the gradual growing apart, the night he left you at the club – your mom had some choice words at this point – and your growing feelings for Jimin.

Everything had changed when you’d gone to Russet, and you’d always assumed Finn would stay the same but now, even he was crumbling into pieces.

When you were done, your mom was silent a moment, then sighed. You could picture her so clearly in your mind’s eye, seated in your dad’s office chair. This was likely where she’d gone when you heard the door click. The image made you so homesick, it physically pained you.

“Life isn’t ever as neat as we wish it would be,” your mom said at last. “People make mistakes, Y/N. People change. Sometimes the things we thought were permanent turn out not to be.”

“I know. And I know Finn and I are young, but –”

“It’s not that,” your mom said, cutting you off. “Some people meet the person they want to be with early on. That happens. Some people know who they are from the minute they’re born, but other people change and want different things.”

“I – I know. Objectively, I know but… it’s so hard to do something I don’t want to do. And I… I don’t want to break up with Finn.”

“Why not?” your mom said gently.

Biting down on your lower lip, you felt tears fill your eyes. Your answer was stupid – you knew it was. Partly, this was why you kept running away. You knew the answer wasn’t enough, which was why you didn’t want to say it.

“We’ve just been together so long,” you said, closing your eyes. “We’ve gone through rough patches before. Why is now any different?”

“I don’t know. Why is it?”

Swallowing hard, you whispered, “Because this time, I have no idea how to fix things. I think we’ve hurt each other too much, mom. I don’t know… I don’t see a way back to how we were.”

Hearing the words said out loud, you opened your eyes.

There it was. The thing you’d known for weeks but had been unwilling to say. So long as you kept it bottled in, pushed down, you didn’t have to acknowledge its presence or pain.

In truth, your fights with Finn had become so commonplace, you could no longer point to ‘the big one.’ The fight about spending time together had mutated, becoming a multi-headed dragon of differing life goals, de-prioritization and feelings for others.

Whenever you and Finn were happy these days, you found yourself holding your breath. You were waiting for said happiness to dissolve into pain. You had no clue when a relationship was supposed to end but had to imagine this wasn’t a good sign.

“I don’t think there are any easy answers, Y/N,” said your mom. “This is something you need to decide for yourself.”

“Shouldn’t it be easy, though?” you demanded, grip tightening on your phone. “When I list out everything that’s happened, I know things are bad. I haven’t been telling you things because deep down, I don’t want you saying what I already know.”

“Which is?”

“We… that we should break up.”

Your mom was quiet a moment. “It’s never easy to give up something you love.”

You wanted to respond but found you couldn’t, simply nodding even though she couldn’t see. On some level, she was your mom and she understood.

“What about the other boy you mentioned?” she said, sounding curious. “The one you’re having feelings for. Is this the same Jimin as high school?”

“Yes,” you whispered, the white-hot shame of your kiss burning you from the inside.

That was something you couldn’t tell your mom. Not now, at least. Maybe sometime in the future but for now, you couldn’t bear the shame of admitting what you’d done. You never should have let things get to this point.

“Hm.” She made a thoughtful sound. “You know, I’m not surprised to hear you’re getting along. He always seemed like a nice boy, despite how you treated him.”

“Mom!” you blurted. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am, honey.”

“Jimin used to bet I’d lose against him in competitions.”

“Mhm. And who started those bets?”

Although you huffed, you didn’t respond because your mom was right. Your bet senior year had been Jimin’s idea, but you’d been the one to start them before.

“It’s not even about Jimin,” you said, quieting somewhat. “It’s more… nothing in my life is solid anymore. I had a plan, mom. I knew exactly what I wanted and now that I’m here, nothing’s how I imagined.”

Softly, your mom chuckled. “Welcome to your twenties.”

“Mom!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Welcome to adulthood.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Her voice grew softer. “I wish I was there, so I could give you a hug. You’ve always been the type of person who needed a plan. But there’s more than one way to be happy, Y/N. What is it you really want?”

Her words were so reminiscent of Jimin that for a moment, you could only pause. What you wanted was dance, but you knew acknowledging this meant giving up Finn.

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

“Well, then. That’s probably the first thing you should figure out.”

Closing your eyes, you nodded. You stayed on the phone with her a while longer, talking about nothing and slowly calming down. When you finally hung up, you promised to call more and confirmed your plans to come home for the holidays.

Lowering your phone to the bed, heavy realization settled over you. You’d reached your lowest moment. If you sunk any further, there’d be no salvaging anything.

What else could happen? You barely had a relationship with Finn to speak of, had hurt Jimin’s friendship in the process and were so distracted, so tired, you were in danger of jeopardizing your future at Russet.

Somewhere along the line, everything had become twisted. You had too many problems to ignore any longer. Sitting up straighter in bed, you wiped tears away with your palm. All you could do was move forward – starting with Finn.

Satisfied by this, you rolled over in bed and closed your eyes. It had been a long time since you’d slept; you figured you could try and nap before you called. Finn wouldn’t be out of his classes for a few hours yet.

For the first time in a week, you managed to fall asleep before your mind could talk yourself out of rest.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading 😊 ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT! (and then the epilogue, but you know) New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin writing #jimin au #jimin dance au #jimin series #bts writing #bts au #bts dance au #bts series

[drcalmreid]

pretend - s.r.

pairing: spencer x female!reader

summary: angst/fluff - you and spencer are forced to go undercover together as a couple...weeks after you broke up

content warning: female unsub with female and male victims (tw: female unsub, female and male victims, drugging, murder, relationship issues/breakup, arguing) please feel free to let me know if I missed any others :)

word count: 2.7k

authors notes: “—” indicates a flashback; also this is my entry for @railmereid​’s 2.0k writing challenge! (congrats!!) I hope you all like it and good luck to anyone else who enters! xx

gif credit: @prettyboyspence​

YOUR POV

“You guys sure you’re okay with this?” Preteniss asks, while securing my microphone wire. I nod hesitantly, and give her a weak smile. She glances up at Reid who stands to my right, Rossi attaching his wire to his undershirt. Spencer smiles his classic tight-lipped grin and nods too. Four female victims have been found near Washington D.C., three of them being in relationships with wealthy men. All of the women’s boyfriends are also missing and have not been heard from since the women disappeared weeks before. All four of the victims were last seen at a local restaurant with their partners in the days prior. Rossi suggested Reid and I go undercover to see if we could find any new leads or even catch the unsub in the act. As partners, we have gone undercover a handful of times. As boyfriend-girlfriend, we were practically forced to go for any case that required it (Prentiss insisted it was only because we were the most natural ones to play a couple...but, I don’t buy it, I think the team liked the idea of forcing Reid out of his comfort zone). As exes, this would be a first…

“Alright,” Rossi pats Reid’s chest. “You guys look good, now let’s go get this son of a bitch”.

—

“Spencer, you’re being ridiculous.” I say dropping my go-bag on his leather couch. I turn on my heels and watch Spencer close his apartment door behind him.

“I’m ridiculous? y/n, you could have been shot!” Spencer says, grabbing his face.

“Yeah, Spencer. That's our job. You can’t expect me to not do my job because it makes you uncomfortable.”

Spencer laughs ironically and leaves his satchel on his desk, knocking over a stack of books in the process. He says nothing and disappears into his bedroom. “Spencer, c’mon,” I say following him towards the bedroom and he shuts the door before I even get there. “Spencer!” I yell, pounding my fist on the wooden door, but there’s no answer.

—

Spencer and I step out of the SUV into the cold Virginia night and instinctively I loop my arm with his. Spencer stiffens under my touch and I glance up at him through my lashes. He nods gently and I rest my head on his shoulder...just to sell it, even though I truly just missed his warmth. The cold wind bites at my legs exposed under my dress, I shudder against the cold and Spencer readjusts his arm and wraps my shoulders in his embrace. I blush and my heart begins to race. Our steps continue down the sidewalk, towards the restaurant in question.

Spencer places his free hand over my torso and muffles my wire, I glance up at him raising an eyebrow. “Do you think they know?” He whispers.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” I mumble back. “You didn’t want to, remember?”

Spencer coughs slightly and releases his grip on my microphone.

“Nice one Reid, next time you want to flirt with your girlfriend you don’t have to mute yourselves,” Prentiss chirps in our earpieces.

“Right, sorry,” Reid says, flustered.

“Baby, where are we going?” I ask and Spencer smiles. He used to love when I used this pet name for him, but now it hurts me too much to even think about.

“It’s a surprise.”

—

I wake up to the smell of fresh coffee and my back is pressed up against the wall. I had fallen asleep propped up against the wall next to the bedroom door, hoping Spencer would open it. Typically one of us ends up sleeping in the living room before giving in and crawling into bed with the other. Apologizes are mumbled between us and we fall asleep to the sound of each other's heartbeats. Usually when we argue it’s like a tornado: fast, centered around one thing, and usually caused by one of us spinning out of control….but this fight, I could sense it would be more like an Earthquake: seemingly from nowhere, groundbreaking, and dividing the land that was once so stable.

“You’re up,” Spencer says standing in the entryway of the kitchen.

“Yeah,” I say while standing from the floor, cracking all my joints in the process.

“I made coffee.” Spencer says as if it is more of a comment than an offer.

“I smelt.”

“So we’re really gonna do this?” Spencer asks, even though we both know it’s not a question. He sits down at the kitchen table and rests his mug down. I follow him inside the small kitchen nook and lean against the counter.

“Looks like it.”

—

Spencer and I sit down across from one another at a circular table with a booth curving around one side. The restaurant is dimly lit, candles flickering on the tables, red silk table cloths covering the tables, and well-dressed waiters and waitresses attend to each of the guests. It reminds me of the restaurant that we went to for our first anniversary, and I know it reminds Spencer too. He keeps his eyes down, glued to the table and barely looks up at me as I try to make conversation.

“This restaurant is beautiful,” I say, flashing my best smile. “I’m glad I dressed up. You remember this dress? I haven’t worn it in forever.”

Spencer clears his throat and finally looks up, “of course I do, baby.” My heart practically jumps to my throat. “You wore it on our first date.”

“Yeah, I did” I look down at the simple, black lace dress I have on and play with the seam. Our waitress approaches the table just as Spencer is about to speak up again.

“Good evening, I’m Lydia and I will be your waitress tonight, can I get you started with our wine-”

“No,” Spencer cuts off the waitress in the middle of her rehearsed speech.

“Spence,” I shoot him a look across the table. I smile at the waitress, “We’ll both just have water, thank you.”

“Okay,” Prentiss speaks to both of us through our earpieces. “If we are right, the unsub should approach your table and try to initiate a fight between the two of you. Think you can manage that?”

“Oh, we can manage.” I say glancing up at Spencer, who’s already staring at me from the other end of the dining table.

—

“No, y/n you don’t get it, do you? God, you’re so stubborn. I can’t watch you get hurt! It will kill me, don’t you understand that?” Spencer yells, pacing around the small kitchen.

“Spencer,” I reach out for him, but he brushes past me. “Of course I get it…but it’s my job. I don’t know what you want me to do. You, of all people, know what this job requires. I can’t just not go on missions because my boyfriend doesn’t want me hurt. How do you think I feel when you go on cases without me?”

“That’s not the point,” Spencer yells, running his hands through his hair. “You went into the unsub’s house, alone-”

“You were there,” I suggest, leaning towards him.

“Outside y/n,” Spencer spits, his word laced with venom. “You were unharmed, unprotected, and out of reach! What if something happened?”

“Well,” I say rubbing the sides of my arms. “Nothing did.”

“I can’t keep doing this,” Spencer says sitting down again at the kitchen table. “I can’t, y/n.”

“What- what are you saying?”

“We can’t be together if all we do is worry about each other,” Spencer looks up from his empty mug to meet my eyeline. “It isn’t healthy.”

“So, you’re breaking up with me? This is really happening?” I ask, tears welling in my eyes.

“This isn’t healthy anymore, and you know it just as much as I do.” Spencer says, pain stinging more and more with each word.

I scoff at his words and actually feel myself begin to laugh at the obscurity of the situation. Dr. Spencer Reid, the only who willingly gives himself up to unsubs countless times, can’t handle it when his girlfriend does it once. A chuckle escapes me and I swing my hand across my mouth trying to muffle the sound. “Are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” I say as the laughter intensifies. “But this is fucking ridiclous. I always thought if we ever broke up it’d be because one of us got murdered, not because we arrested one.”

—

“Excuse me,” a blonde woman interrupts, standing near our table. “Sorry to interrupt, I just love your tie. It really brings out your eyes.”

“Thank you,” Spencer smirks and glances at me. “She hates it, always thinks it makes me look like a stock broker.”

“Accountant,” I correct, taking a sip of my water.

“Sorry, an accountant,” Spencer says and smiles at the blonde.

“Seems like I brought up a sore subject, sorry- uh, have a nice night.”

“Morgan,” Prentiss whispers through our headsets. “Keep eyes on her.” Morgan and Tara sit just across the restaurant at the bar, with eyes on the entrance and exit points.

“She's sitting back down at the bar, I’ve got her.”

“We’re going to need more guys, we gotta get her moving,” Prentiss orders and I nod while setting my glass down.

“You know,” I say leaning forward, chest pressing to the table. “You only ever take me out when there’s something you need to talk to me about...so talk.”

“I- I just,” Spencer mumbles. “I know we haven’t talked much since,” he looks up at me and lets out a big sigh.

“What? Since you belittled me? Made me feel like I couldn’t do my job? Then?” I ask, running my fingers across the table, letting them rest just a few centimeters from his.

“y/n,” Spencer says, dragging out my name. He sits back in the booth and presses his back to the leather seat. “I never belittled you.”

“Sure felt like it,” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“You are so stubborn, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” I roll my eyes at him. My mind starts to wander back to the night that sunk our ship. The same points being repeated over and over, neither one of us backing down or admitting fault.

“I just wanted to protect you, I can’t see you get hurt.” Spencer says, his eyes glossed over and lip quivering.

“When you said you couldn’t do this anymore, was that to protect me, or you? Because based on what we’re doing tonight...seems like it didn’t work out for either of us.” I say standing up from the table.

“y/n-” Spencer starts.

“She’s on the move,” Morgan cuts into our earpieces.

“This was never about me was it? It was all just to protect you, and I fucking believed it.” I say, as the realization hits me. Tears sting my eyes and I choke the words out, “You never cared about losing me, all you cared about was how you would feel if you lost me.”

“y/n, please.” Spencer stands from the table and reaches for me. I shake my head at him and step back.

“Don’t touch me,” I say backing away from his touch, even though I want nothing more than to fall into it. I turn quickly and walk right into the blonde again. “Excuse me.”

The next moments run through my mind like a blur.

The blonde sat down with Spencer, ever so elegantly slipping a pill into his drink before Morgan and Tara were onto her, cuffs snuggly placed around her wrists. She didn’t resist, didn’t ask for a lawyer, she just smiled and asked if her ex-boyfriend would know she was arrested. Even though I tried my best to stop crying, my tears kept streaming down my face and neck. I gave up on wiping my cheeks, just letting the mascara stain my skin. The car ride with Reid, Morgan, Lewis, and myself is eerily quiet, no one wanting to say the first word… or address the sobbing undercover agent in the passenger seat.

“Good job you two, if you keep bringing in unsubs like this, we’re going to have to put you in the field more often. And that fight? Felt like you two we’re really in it,” Emily says and I flash her a quick smile. Spencer and I are at our respective desks, shoving case files into our suitcases in silence. We haven’t spoken since the restaurant and honestly I don’t know if I’m even ready to yet. “Anyway, have a nice night.” She smiles back at us while passing through the bullpen before heading out the doors.

“Thanks, Em. Goodnight,” I smile again as she exits, leaving just Spencer and I in the empty BAU office. I quietly grab my things and walk around my desk, heels in my hand, focused on the door.

“Y/n,” Spencer calls after me, just as I pass his desk, “please, wait.” I stop in my tracks, just a few feet away from his desk. I turn to face him and shrug my shoulders, indicating for him to keep talking. “I missed you.”

“Spencer,” I huff and set my bag and shoes down on JJ’s empty desk. “We’re always together. How could you miss me?”

“I meant, I missed us. Going out to dinner, laughing, just being us.” Spencer says, scratching the back of his neck. My lips curve into a weak smile and I nod. “Do you think we could pretend?” He weakly asks.

“Spence,” I half-heartedly laugh. “We just had a whole night of pretend…apparently an Oscar’s worthy night of pretend.”

“No no, I mean...do you think we could pretend that you don’t hate me?” He asks and his eyes are glazed over again. He blinks quickly to clear away his tears, but one escapes before he can hide it. “I never wanted things to end, I just- I was scared. I can’t lose you…” He says and I stand there silently, contemplating his words. “...and maybe that’s selfish...and I know that now, but I want to talk about this.”

I tug my lip between my teeth and take a deep breath. Silence settles between us for a few minutes as I keep my eyes to the ground, too nervous to look at Spencer.

“I could never hate you,” I finally say, stepping towards him. “Even if I forced all my attention to it and focused on everything that went wrong. I could never find it in myself to hate you.”

“You don’t hate me? You don’t hate me,” Spencer repeats almost like he’s solidifying it in his mind. He looks up at me through his curls as he sits down on the edge of his desk and collapses his head into his hands. I step even closer to him and place myself between his knees.

“Spencer, look at me.” I say and he blinks rapidly before glancing up to meet my eyeline. “I don’t hate you, the only thing I hate is how much I love you.” Spencer laughs lightly and a smile creeps across his face. “And for the record, I missed you too.”

Before I can say anything else, Spencer reaches forward and pulls me into his arms. His arms wrap around me tightly and hook together at my back. The shock wears off and I lower my hands to his head, pressing him to me. Luckily, he still sits on the edge of his desk, with me between his knees, otherwise I think we both would have collapsed into a puddle on the floor. I run my hands through his curls and I feel Spencer’s tears wet my dress. His grip only gets tighter and when I go to step back from him he mumbles a quick, “please”.

“Spence,” I whisper down at him. My fingers twisting in his chestnut curls, “we can’t stay here all night...we gotta go home.”

“I don't want to go home without you, I can’t- I-” He rambles, pulling away from my chest.

“So, don’t. Let’s go home.” I say and he smiles weakly up at me, I run my hand down from his hair and cup his cheeks. “You ready?”

He nods weakly and gives me a full-Spencer-smile, “let’s go home.”

—

OK YAY! I hope you guys liked this and it wasnt too confusing flashing back and forth, again congrats to @railmereid​ on 2.0k! :) xx

leave requests here! // masterlist

stay safe and wear a mask! -m

#renswritingchallenge #tw: female victims #tw: male victims #tw: argument #tw: murder #tw: relationship struggles #tw: breakup #tw: arguing #Spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid writing #dr spencer reid #dr reid #spence reid #criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x female!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb #tw: drugging

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

Asks: How about some Wrecker Fluff?

Y/N is on her period. She tries to hide the fact from the boys but Hunter can smell it and Tech knows because of his useless facts. Clones probably aren't taught much about the female anatomy as it's not "important" for a Soldier. Wrecker knows something's wrong and after Y/N explains the issue, he ends up bringing her stuff like chocolate and cuddling to make her feel better. Bonus points if she ends up losing her crap on a whole bunch of baddies. Whether it's Droids, bounty hunter, or something else.

I think this is cute- so Ima do it

Strong Muscles Stronger Gut| Wrecker

"Are you. Um..." Hunter spoke.

The two stood in the hanger, both alone.

"What?" Y/n asked.

"You uh...smell...stronger"

"I what!?"

"I mean! Well! You smell...diffrent." Hunter tried to explain, "You do atleast once a month for a week. Are you okay?"

Y/n rubbed her temples- oh so she had to have this talk.

"Yes. Im fine." Y/n spoke, "its a girl thing."

"A. Girl thing?"

"Yeah." Y/n spoke, "Every girl gets- well most, usually around pre teens."

"Its important then?" Hunter asked, "I uh. Know she won't want to go to me about it. She might. I- I don't know-"

Hunter started to ramble, mixing up his words with uhs and ums. He was talking about Omega.

"Can. Uh. You explain it to me? I know it affects you. I just...wanna be there for her you know?"

Y/n nodded, she had explained periods before to boys- men- young girls that were sobbing in the bathroom confused.

Y/n explained what was happening to her body, and what essentially Omega would go through. She told him- everything- spilled all the beans. Y/n had offered to show how much periods really hurt and he agreed saying "its only fair so I understand"

Y/n held his shoulder, he growing increasingly worried.

"What are they doing?" Wrecker asked as he watched them from a far.

Tech looked up from his work, Y/n holding and apologetic face as she then proceeded to slander his guts, kneeing his stomach as hard as possible.

Hunter doubled over letting out a spew of Mando as he went down.

"Yeah thats about a quarter of the pain. But it depends on each girl." Y/n told him, as he was slolwy getting up.

"Remind me never to call you weak even if we are just messing around." Hunter spoke Y/n holding his shoulder.

"Sorry about that..."

"Oh." Tech spoke understanding what was happening, "Y/n must be busy this week then."

"Busy?" Wrecker asked looking at the two, Y/n now in pain as she held Hunter's shoulder leaning over holding her stomach.

"Right now?! You didnt even do anything?!" Hunter complained.

"E-excatly- fuck! Fuck fuck! Ow..."

"Is she okay?" Wrecker asked Tech.

"It will go away- soon- unless. How many days has it been since mid week?"

"Uh..." Wrecker spoke, "three?"

"Makes sense." Tech spoke, "she has most of her pains three days in."

"Three days in of what?" Wrecker spoke.

"Menstruation." Tech spoke, "hand me the-"

Wrecker handed him a tool, "no not- oh yes this one thank you."

"What's Menstruation?" Wrecker asked.

"When a women, in this case, our lovely brutally honest Medic, Y/n." Tech infromed, "is going through a cycle once of month..."

Tech contuined to ramble- Wrecker. Well Wrecker didnt process one piece of information Tech was saying.

"What?" Wrecker asked.

Tech sighed looking back at Wrecker, "she bleeds and has cramps."

"Why is she bleeding? Did she get hurt?"

"Wrecker-"

"Is she okay-"

"Yes-"

"Then why is she-"

"Wrecker!" Tech stopped him, "her monthly bleeding means she's healthy, shes fine. Sure she is emmense discomfort and I certainly hate to see our sister like such, but thats what makes her strong- well also the fact that she can- at any momment be with child, carry the damn thing for almost a year give birth and take a squadron of droids down with just one blaster."

Tech looked back at Wrecker who still looked confused out his mind as Tech sighed, "You know somethings wrong?"

"Yeah." Wrecker answered.

"Go ask her."

"Good idea!"

Wrecker made his way over to Y/n and Hunter the pain Y/n was mild now, she could deal with it.

"Wrecker." They both greeted.

"H-hi."

Y/n looked at him worriedly, "something on your mind?"

"Can. I talk to you?" Wrecker asked, "alone?"

Y/n looked at Hunter, "I'll leave you to it." Hunter responded and left.

Y/n looked up at Wrecker worried, "Wrecker? Hun? What's wrong you look worried?"

"Tech says you're bleeding." Wrecker tried to explain.

"I'm bleeding?" Y/n asked- oh- oh here we go again.

"Y-yeah.." Wrecker spoke rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "and I. Don't really ever understand what comes out of Tech's mouth....unfortunately...and I saw you in pain for the last three days. I just- are you okay?"

Y/n smiled at Wrecker, "Im fine."

"Oh. Oh good." He spoke, not seeming fully satisfied with what she had said, "but uh. Why are you bleeding? Can I stop- We stop you from bleeding?"

"Please I wish you could." Y/n spoke with a light chuckle, "No Wrecker, see women once a month go through a cycle, it unfortunately makes you bleed like you're birthing hell out of your guts but is one of the ways we stay healthy."

"Oh." Wrecker spoke, "so. You bleed to stay healthy? When I bleed Tech's always poking me with needles."

"Well... yes and no. The cycle once a month helps get rid of an egg- well its called an egg, but Im not a chicken alright?" Y/n explained.

Wrecker sat and listened intently to her, something that wasn't really common when learning about what would be considered a random thing to him.

Y/n was pretty impressed by him to say the least. She had never seen him so focused, and it was honestly kind of cute.

"But boys or men don't have it." Y/n told him.

"That doesnt seem fair! Why do you have to suffer?" Wrecker argued as Y/n shrugged with a laugh.

"You tell me." She smiled.

It went silent as he thought intently, "well nothing can make you feel better? While your on your period?"

"Well because of War I've been so busy with fighting That I've only used heat packs and compresses. Usually I just have to fight through it." Y/n spoke, "but I've heard of alot of women saying like affection makes them feel better."

Wrecker hummed in thought, "Hey! Wrecker! Y/n!" Omega called.

The two turning there heads seeing the girl across the hanger with the others.

"We're going to a Cantina for dinner! Come on!"

"Come on Wrecker." Y/n spoke.

They met up with the rest of the group, walking to the Cantina with as usual happy Omega. They sat down for dinner as usual. Talking back and forth with smiles. Wrecker would frown though everytime Y/n winced, closing her eyes taking deep breaths. She was obviously in pain.

"Can I leave earlier?" Wrecker asked.

"Uh, sure?" Hunter asked as Wrecker got up.

"Can I come?!" Omega asked.

"Oh. Uh..." Wrecker spoke, "not this time...sorry Omega."

"Oh." Omega frowned, "Okay then! I'll see you later!"

Wrecker left the group who was relaxing.

"Odd." Tech spoke, "Wrecker always likes to take Omega."

"Maybe he's found a girl." Y/n recommend leaning back and drinking her water.

"I doubt that." Echo spoke, "thats not him"

"Maybe he just wants to go back and sleep?"

"Now that sounds like Wrecker." Hunter admitted.

Y/n shrugged, the group talking casually. Until some bounty hunters came up to them.

"Well hello Doll."

Y/n only contained her arguement about physics with tech.

"Whats a princess like you doing hanging around a few clones?" The man spoke with a purr.

"Call me princess again and you'll have no cock."

The men laughed as the batchers kept quiet, it was bad to mess with her in one of her moods.

"Oh come on Princess. Whats a small fry like you gonna do?"

Y/n quickly grabbed her pistol from her tigh, aiming it at the guys head.

"I warned you didn't I?"

"W-woah now put the-"

She aimed the gun down shooting the man right in the Kenobis.

"FUCK! SHE SHOT ME IN THE DICK!"

"I fucking warned you!" Y/n argued.

"What the hell!" His friends shouted.

Y/n lifted the gun up, "It may just be on electric shock but I will turn it to live ammo!"

"You bitch!"

Y/n growled as they came at her, Y/n grabbing a bottle on the table smashing it against of there heads as they fell to the floor. The third ramming Y/n into the table as he pulled out a knife, Y/n reaching back grabbing a fork and stabbing the man in the shoulder.

He cried out in pain as he fell to the floor.

The group left the cantina after paying, no bystander daring to make a comment. The group returning to the Havoc Maurder.

"Wrecker! Wrecker! You should of been there!" Omega cheered rushing inside to find the large batcher.

Y/n rubbed her stomach in pain, "still bad?' Echo asked.

"Just a bit yeah..." she groaned.

"I can see if we have any heat patches" Echo spoke as Y/n nodded in thanks, the group walking in.

Omega came back out, "Y/n Wrecker wants you in the bunks."

Y/n nodded, Echo handing her a heat patch.

"Thanks."

Opening it with her teeth she walked towards Wrecker and her's shared bunk.

"Yeah Wrecker? Omega said-" She stood seeing Lula on her bed and a large paper bag.

"Hey!" He cheered holding lots of blankets in his hands and in his blacks.

"Hi." She spoke, "whats up?"

"Oh well I heard about the fight." Wrecker spoke, "and uh. I know you've been in pain for a few days so this is to make you feel better!"

Y/n cocked an eyebrow up still confused, Wrecker wrapping her in one of the blankets as she held it so it stayed in place.

"What in the bag?"

"Well me and Omega always go get sweets and it makes us feel good so..."

Y/n walked over seeing the mass amount of choclate bars,

"I bought a few." Wrecker spoke.

A few? More like a whole isle.

"And thought made you'd want a hug." Wrecker recommend, climbing into the bottom bunk, it was often they shared a bunk.

"Oh." Y/n spoke, "uh. Are you sure? I don't wanna...you know bleed on you by accident."

"You've bleed on me on the battle feild how is this any different?" Wrecker spoke with a smile.

Y/n chuckled, only Wrecker.

Wrecker had wrapped a blanket around him waiting with open arms to Y/n. Y/n smiled making her way into his arms, her blanket wrapped around her and his, Wrecker pulling another blanket over them. She smiled head in Wrecker's chest. He rubbed the middle of her back as she hummed in pleasure, her head barried into his warmth.

"Your like a heater..." she spoke muffled as he chuckled, rubbing up and down her spine.

"Do I ever tell you how much I love you?" Y/n purred, "especially your back rubs..."

He kissed her head as she smiled.

"Thank you Wrecker." Y/n told him.

"Anything for you, after all. Your always making sure we're all okay."

#submission #star wars wrecker #tbb wrecker #the bad batch wrecker #tcw wrecker #wrecker x reader #fluff #star wars: the bad batch

[andvys]

Longing (part 17)

Warnings: angst, self destructive behavior, kinda self harm, kinda dark!reader

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Author’s note: this took me way too long and it’s kinda rushed and not the best one I've written but I promise the next one will be better.

Opening your eyes slowly, you patted the spot next to you to find it empty, Ellie must've gotten up already. You noticed how tired and exhausted you were despite hours of sleeping. These past few weeks have really taken a toll on you and your health. Your body was full of scars and bruises and not just physically. Pain shot through your shoulder when you tried to get up, groaning you clutched your shoulder and fell back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling your thoughts drifted off to last night.

This has by far been the worst day since Joel’s death and you didn't even know what the worst part about it was. Torturing and killing Nora or fighting Abby and getting your ass kicked by her. You planned on killing her and yet you failed.

You were angry at yourself, you almost died yesterday and not just once and you only survived because of that boy. He prevented you from getting killed on the streets and he prevented you from getting killed by Abby, twice. You were getting weak and that was the last thing you needed right now, you had to stay strong in order to kill Abby, otherwise it wouldn't be her getting killed but you or even worse Ellie and Jesse and you would never let that happen.

Getting up, you ignored the pain in your shoulder and started to put on the clothes that Ellie laid out for you, you didn't even know where she got them from but you were thankful for not having to wear your bloody and dirty clothes again. Tying the laces on your boots you got up to find your reflection staring back at you through the large mirror.

Walking closer you almost gasped at the sight of yourself. Abby has done a good job on you, you were covered in bruises and new cuts that would surely leave scars. Your lip was busted and your throat was covered in dark purple and blue bruises. As if the big guy hadn't done enough, Abby had to leave marks of her own around your throat. You were surprised that you could still talk.

How could you let it get this far? No one has ever managed to cover you in so many bruises and you fought people twice Abby’s size before. You didn't even know who you were more angry at, Abby or yourself?

She was the one who put you in this state but you were the one that you let her. You let her beat you, you let her be stronger than you. You were so blinded by anger and rage that you didn't turn your logic on when you were fighting her, you just attacked her without thinking first. 

You were so incredibly angry at yourself. Your father would've laughed at you. 

‘how are you gonna survive in this world when you can't even defend yourself?’

Shaking your head you tried to get his voice out of your head but it kept repeating itself. You felt tears well up in your eyes, your breathing got heavier by the second and you couldn't stand looking at yourself anymore.

Balling your hand up into a fist, you punched into the mirror, breaking it, you sliced your skin open in the process but you didn't even feel it, you were consumed by anger. You just kept punching it until your hand was covered in blood.

Ellie was sitting in one of the seats, playing guitar when she heard the sound of glass shattering coming from the room you were in. Immediately she put the guitar down and rushed over to you, right when she was about to open the door, it was already pulled open by you. 

Startled at the sight of her standing there you jumped back slightly, blinking a couple of times, you went to move past her but she didn't let you. She looked at you in shock, her eyes drifted down to your bloody hand. She didn't know what to say, she could tell this wasn't an accident by the way you avoided looking into her eyes. 

“(Y/n)..” she whispered, with a shocked expression on her face.

“I’m fine, Ellie.” you mumbled, looking down.

“No you're not, give me your hand.” she said, grabbing your hand to examine the cuts. You didn't want her to see you like this but you knew there was no way that she would just let you walk away like this and you couldn't resist her puppy eyes anyways. “Alright, luckily there is no glass stuck in your skin.”

Pushing you back into the room she told you to sit on the bed while she went to grab some supplies.

“Okay, found some stuff..” she said, walking back into the room, glancing at the broken mirror briefly before she sat down next to you. Grabbing your hand gently, she started cleaning the blood off your hand.

You didn't even wince when she started disinfecting the wound with alcohol, too deep in thought to feel the pain. Ellie noticed that and eyed you worriedly. 

“Alright all done.” she said, grabbing your hand so you wouldn't try to leave again “babe?” 

Looking down, you didn't want her to look at your face, you looked broken and you knew it, you were supposed to look strong and not like some weak kid. 

“Babe look at me, please.” she pleaded, squeezing your hand. 

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at her, noticing the sad and worried look she had on her face. “I’m here, you can talk to me you know that right?” 

“I know.” you whispered. 

“I don't want to lose you (y/n).” she said, moving closer to you, she brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, looking at you with sad eyes.

Feeling your heart squeeze in your chest at her words you pulled her into a hug. “You won't lose me Ellie. I promise.” you said, holding her tightly.

She held onto you tightly, not wanting to let you go. She was so worried when you were out there all alone. She hated to think about you being in danger and she hated it even more that you were hurt and almost killed out there. She wanted to tell you to just stay here while she finished it but she knew there was no stopping you from going after Abby and you would never sit back while Ellie was out there on her own.

Pulling away you noticed the worried look in your lovers eyes, your gaze immediately softened “Ellie, I promise you that you won't lose me, I’ll be with for as long as I’m alive.” you said, pecking her lips softly. “We lost too much time with each other already don't you think?” you asked her.

She nodded her head, a sad smile tugging on her lips.

“Well it was kinda my fault..” you admitted ‘as always’ you thought to yourself.

“Hey we’re together now, that's all that matters.” Ellie said, bringing your hand up to her lips, kissing it softly. 

Your heart jumped at her saying you were together. 

“Together..” you trailed off “does that mean I can call you my girlfriend now?” you asked shyly 

Ellie’s eyes widened at your question, her heartbeat got increasingly faster. Never in a million years would she have though that you'd be the one asking her to be your girlfriend. She always guessed that she would be the one asking you that question. 

“I- of course, fuck.. of you can call me your girlfriend.. I mean I- always wanted to call you my girlfriend but- alright I will stop rambling now..” Ellie mumbled the last part. 

Smiling slightly at her, you leaned and kissed her lips softly, she grabbed your face and pulled you closer, kissing you back.

You probably didn't deserve her but you couldn't resister her, she made you feel alive, she made you feel safe and at home. Her touch was able to make you forget every worry that you had, she was able to calm you down even in times like this, she was like an anchor for you. 

Pulling away from the kiss, you looked into her eyes and all you could find there was love and adoration for you. 

“Come on, we have to discuss a few things.” you said, getting up, you grabbed your backpack and your swords. 

“Yeah hold on.” she said, grabbing your hand she turned you around and pulled you in again, kissing you one more time before you both had to go out there again.

Grabbing her waist, you pulled her closer, kissing her back.

“Hey sleepyheads I- oh my god... not again!” Jesse came bursting into the room and immediately left and closed the door again. 

Pulling away from her you furrowed your brows “what a dumbass” you said shaking your head. Ellie chuckled at you “He’ll never learn how to knock.” Ellie mumbled. 

“Yeah.. alright let’s go.” 

After you explained everything Nora told you about why they were after Joel you discussed the route to the Aquarium and were finally on the way there. It was raining and you could her the faint rumbling of thunder from afar. Ellie and Jesse were behind you, talking about Dina and the baby. You weren't in the mood to talk so you just walked ahead of them, keeping an eye out for infected or worse, people. 

You came to the conclusion that people were worse than infected. At least they couldn't help attacking you, it was their nature but people, they have the choice and yet they still do horrible things. Not that you were any different but at least you weren't enjoying this.

Perking up at the sound of voices coming from somewhere up ahead, you looked back at Ellie and Jesse motioning for them to hide. You ran behind a car, next to Ellie, pulling out your gun, you didn't even hesitate when you started shooting at them, the second you saw them. Ellie looked at you in surprise, this wasn't like you, you usually counted the enemies before jumping straight in to the line of fire.

She jumped up and started shooting at them too, killing one of them just in time before he went to pull the trigger of the gun that was pointed at your head. Jesse was shooting at them from the side.

They were quickly dealt with, you went to one of the soldiers and grabbed his rifle and his handgun.

Ellie and Jesse glanced at each other in worry.

“What the hell was that (y/n)?” Ellie asked with an accusing tone.

Turning around to look at her, you notice both Ellie and Jesse staring at you.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking back in forth between them.

“That!” Ellie exclaimed, pointing to the dead soldiers. “That was dumb.”

Rolling your eyes at her, you turned around and went to walk away only to have Ellie pulling you back by grabbing your shoulder, you almost winced at the pain, she must've forgotten your injury.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me (y/n).” She demanded, looking at you with an angry expression. “This guy almost shot you.”

“So? He didn't, thanks to you.” You stated and turned around again, not wanting to keep talking about this.

You had to admit, what you did was stupid but you just wanted to get this over with as quickly as you could.

Ellie looked back to Jesse, not knowing what to do. He just shrugged and followed you.

After you encountered more WLF’s, you and Ellie parted ways with Jesse after overhearing a conversation about a sniper. You all assumed it must've been Tommy so Jesse went after him while you and Ellie kept moving towards the aquarium. Everything was going great until you saw more WLF’s fighting with another group, you wanted to get past them but they've seen your boat already and started shooting at you from afar. 

“Fuck this is the group I told you about.” you grumbled, you knew it was them by the way they were dressed. They all had long coats on when you saw them yesterday and these guys were dressed the same, so it was clearly them. 

“Let’s fuck em up then.” Ellie said, moving the boat near the house so you could go inside. 

Grabbing your your rifle out of your backpack you moved closer to them, they haven't seen you walk into the building yet, one of them was standing by the broken window looking for you and Ellie.

Aiming your rifle at her head, you pulled the trigger, her body fell to the ground. You heard more running down the stairs, aiming your gun at them you quickly shot them as well. This was easy. Too easy.

“(y/n)! watch out!” Ellie yelled

You turned around quickly, just in time to move out of the way when a man swung his hatchet at you. He grunted when he missed you, Ellie started shooting at him but missed when she was attacked by another guy, “Ellie!” you yelled out, you wanted to help her but you had to get past this guy first. 

You ran back, keeping distance between you and the guy in front of you, aiming your rifle at him, you pulled the trigger but it clicked empty. “Fuck.” you grumbled when the guy started walking towards you. You threw your rifle at him, hitting him in his face, you almost wanted to laugh at his expression. 

You grabbed both your swords out and waited for him to attack. He came towards you with a scowl on his face, swinging his hatchet at your head, you dodged it and swung your sword at his arm, cutting him deep with your blade. He cried out in pain but that seemed to piss him off even more, he lunged at you without swinging his hatchet this time but you already knew you won the fight when you saw his angry expression. Anger makes you stronger but it also made you dumber. He almost reminded you of yourself yesterday.

You ducked down and moved behind him, giving him no time to react you stabbed your sword through his back, the blade moved through his chest, he gasped and fell to the floor when you pulled your sword out. 

Turning around, you ran towards Ellie, just when you were about to help her she already stabbed the guy in the neck, making him grunt in pain. She pulled her knife out, blood splattered across her face making her cringe in disgust. 

“Fuck.. I hate these assholes.” she grumbled, wiping the blood away. 

“Me too.” you said, moving towards her you grabbed her face, noticing that she a cut on her cheek. 

She noticed the worried look on your face, grabbing your hand that was resting on her cheek she assured you that she was fine. 

“At least it’s not deep, it won't leave a scar on your pretty face.” you said, making her blush. “Even if it did, you'd still be the most beautiful girl.” you said, winking at her before you went back to the boat, leaving her standing there blushing.

She blinked a few times before snapping out of her thoughts, you always decided to tease her at the worst moments. Shaking her head, she followed you out.

You found an old arcade and were now looking for a way out of there. Happy about getting away from the storm for a second, your clothes were sticking to your skin, uncomfortably.

You were looking for supplies when you heard a load crash and Ellie’s scream. You pulled your sword out thinking she ran into infected or something you ran out of the room to find a large hole in the floor that hasn't been there before. “Ellie!” you ran towards the hole, looking down you found her laying there, grunting in pain “I’m fi- oh fuck!” she got up quickly “fucking bloater!” she cursed before running away. You saw the bloater go after her, groaning.

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure it would jump out. Putting your sword back, you prepared a molotov and lit up the rag before jumping down, grunting when pain shot through your ankle. 

Ignoring it, you ran towards the bloater and threw the molotov at him, lighting him up. His attention immediately turned to you instead of Ellie. He started walking towards you but Ellie grabbed her shotgun and shot him a couple of times, killing him. 

Looking at Ellie you were just about to ask her if she was alright when you saw two infected jump down from the second floor, rolling your eyes you grabbed your swords out “they are mine.” you said, Ellie moved out of the way watching you, one infected ran towards you while the other one still struggled to get up. You stabbed it through it’s chest, his movement stilled and you pulled your sword out, splattering blood on your clothes in the process, moving towards the other infected, just when he was about to get up, you swung your sword at it’s head, the blade cut clean through his neck. 

Shaking the blood off your swords you put them back. Turning around to look at Ellie, you noticed her staring at you “that was..kinda hot.” she said, scratching the back of her neck. 

Snorting at her “you think me being all wet and covered in blood is hot?” you asked, not realizing the way it sounded until you saw her smirk at you. 

Shaking your head, you turned around to move upstairs and search for a way out. 

“You gotta admit, that did sound kind of wrong..” you heard Ellie say from behind you. 

“Whatever..”

After some struggles with the boat and a tidal wave almost drowning you and Ellie you managed to find your way to the aquarium. 

“You okay with facing her again?” you asked Ellie, eyeing her in worry. 

“I should be the one asking you this but yeah I just wanna finish it.” she said, looking through the broken window before jumping inside.

You followed her inside, looking at her, you noticed she was staring back at you, silently asking you if you were okay with seeing her again. 

“I’m gonna be fine Ellie.” You assured her, squeezing her hand before moving further inside.

“hey, we can go crawl through here.” you pointed to the vents. 

“yeah that could work.” Ellie said, moving towards it, she crawled inside. 

Following her inside, you started crawling.

Suddenly you heard a weird noise and Ellie stopped crawling “oh.. no.” she grunted before the vent broke and she went falling down. 

“Fuck Ellie!” you called out, crawling faster towards the hole when you suddenly heard barking. Jumping down, you saw the dog on top of Ellie barking and trying to bite her, you quickly grabbed your knife out of your belt and stabbed the dog, throwing it off her. “Are you okay?” you asked, helping her up. 

“yeah, stupid dog.” she grumbled. 

You looked down at the dog sadly, you used to love dogs. 

“alright come on.” you said. 

You walked through an empty room, checking it out before moving into the next one. You found a bag laying on the floor, moving towards it, you crouched down and looked inside, finding a familiar necklace, it had a firefly on it and the name Owen Moore.

Your father used to have one of those too, he always had it with him, even after they kicked him out. He died with that stupid necklace around his neck. 

“hey what you got there?” Ellie asked, snapping you out of your thoughts, she came up from behind you.

“uh firefly necklace, belongs to that Owen guy.” you said, giving it to her. 

She examined it before throwing it back into the bag. 

“Let’s keep moving” she said, before leaving the room. 

You went after her, stopping in front of a door. You heard muffled voices coming from behind that door. Glancing at Ellie you nodded your head, telling her to go in. 

She opened the door quietly and walked inside with you behind her, you saw two people fighting they were talking about Abby. You definitely recognized them both from that day. 

Just when the women was about to leave she spotted you and Ellie, gasping, she backed away, alerting Owen who looked surprised at you two standing there. “Hands up!” Ellie ordered, aiming her gun at them. They did what she told, putting their hands up.

Pulling your sword out, in case any of them tried anything, you stood next to Ellie. 

“Where’s Abby?” Ellie asked, pointing her gun at the women.

You glanced at Owen who seemed to study your and Ellie’s faces. Realization struck his face “you two are from Jackson.” 

“Tell me where she went!” 

“How do we know you won't kill us?” the women asked, with a shaky voice.

“You give her what they want’s and we’re both dead.” Owen said.

“You guys can survive this, we just want her.” you said, hoping they would just tell you where she was, you were tired of killing people. 

“Bullshit.” 

Ellie pulled her map out, looking at the women “you. come here.” she said calmly.

“Fucking get over here!” Ellie said with an angry voice. 

The women went over to her, with a scared look on her face. 

“point to where she is on the map.” she said “and then you.” she pointed her gun at Owen “and it better fucking match up.” she said, aggressively.

“Okay..” the women said, looking at the map “what are you doing?” Owen asked angrily.

“She's probably dead anyway!” she exclaimed 

“It’s not worth it.” he said, moving closer to her “back off buddy.” you said, pointing your blade towards his neck, he immediately stepped back.

“point to where she is.” Ellie ordered, her voice was heavy, rage and anger filled her. You felt it radiating off her, you don't think that you have ever seen her this way.

“fucking point!” she yelled at the women, pointing her gun at her, Owen tried to move past your swords and grab Ellie’s gun but you were faster than him, you kicked him in his stomach making him gasp, he clutched his stomach, stepping back.

You heard the women yelp at the sight of you attacking Owen.

He straightened up and tried to punch you but you dodged his fist and threw a punch at his face, deciding to get this over with as quick as possible you stabbed your sword through his chest. He gasped out in pain, looking into your eyes in horror, you couldn't help but stare back into his eyes, you realized how terrified he looked. A shiver ran down your spine at the way he was looking at you. He started falling down to his knees, the weight pulling you down with him when he fell. Pulling your sword out you let him fall back. Looking down at him in shock you looked down at his dead body, his eyes still open. 

“oh no.. no...no..!” you heard Ellie mumble from behind you “oh fuck..” 

Turning around slowly you looked up at Ellie who was clutching her stomach while walking backwards, she looked like she was about to have a panic attack.

Looking down on the floor where the women was laying dead on the floor, you noticed her stomach. She was pregnant. Your eyes widened and then looked at Ellie who fell down on her knees. 

“Fuck...” you sighed, getting up you ran towards Ellie, dropping down on the floor in front of her, you grabbed her face in your hands “Ellie...”

She was sobbing, trying to catch her breath. “fuck Ellie.. breathe with me” you said, grabbing her face with one hand you made her look at you and put her hand on your chest “breathe with me Ellie.” you said, she nodded her head, feeling your heartbeat and your chest move under her hand. She tried to take deep breaths, your touch and your voice immediately managed to calm her down.

“You're doing great baby.” you whispered, pulling her closer when her breathing got slower.

You were so distracted with calming her down that you didn't hear the door open or the footsteps coming your way until you heard your name being called. Looking up you found Tommy and Jesse standing there, looking around you.

Jesse looked at the pregnant woman in shook, while Tommy made sure that Ellie was alright. He helped you get her up “come on, let’s get out of here.” he said. 

You grabbed Ellie’s hand and started to pull her out of the room. She turned to look back “come on, don't look Ellie.” you said, grabbing her waist you guided her out, glancing at Owen’s dead body one last time.

You weren't sure if you would recover from this. If Ellie would recover from this.

You have killed before but never like this. You would never forget the way he looked at you when you stabbed your sword through his chest. 

You always told yourself that you only kill when it’s absolutely necessary but was it necessary this time? You could've just knocked him out but you didn't. 

You were done with this, you didn't want to do this anymore. 

You just had to kill one more person. Just one person and then this all would be over.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams #tlou ellie #tlou imagines