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twinklelilstarkey · 1 year

Text

Tutor: Aiden

Words: 5.1k+ Type: Smut (brief) & Angst Summary: When going to a party, you get to see someone you haven't seen in a while. Warnings: Fem!Reader. SMUT {very quick and brief; both of them are intoxicated; piv (no protection)} VIOLENCE (yes, the gif is a hint), MENTIONS OF BLOOD, DESCRIPTION OF FIGHTING, mentions of alcohol, mentions of exes and not-so-nice name-calling.

Tutor Masterlist (for context, you should REALLY read chapter "Sunbathing" <3)

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

And thank you so much for the 6.6k+ followers!!!

Saying that you needed to come to this party is both a shock to your past self and the truest sentence you’ve ever said. Not that you’ve come to enjoy parties, far from it, but you do need to be in a place where everything is loud and chaotic enough to completely muffle your mind. You need noise and maybe a little alcohol.

You’ve been dealing with a ridiculous amount of work from school, Wheezie is beginning to fall back in her studies, and, the worst of all, the girls.

Whatever happened with them on Monday carried on for the whole rest of the week. The lack of conversation towards you whenever they’re all together and the looks you’ve noticed them give you while they talk between themselves during class. You have no idea what could be going on, and it is only leading you to overthink.

You’ve been thinking on a daily basis of the possibility of the girls knowing about Rafe, but, each time, your thoughts were calmed down with Kristy herself. She has been the one that talked the most with you these days, even though it’s a lot less than she used to. And she acts natural. As if nothing ever annoyed the girls or hurt them to the point of… doing this. Therefore, it only leaves you to think that you might have done something before Monday.

Was it because of Alex? Maybe they liked him a bit too much, and Kristy is the only one that accepts that you don’t think you could be anything with him. Maybe you said something bad? But when? You didn’t spend any more time with them which could’ve led to an argument. If anything, they were happier prior to the date because you were going on the damned date.

Thinking it could be you and Rafe is something that goes through your mind at the worst times, even when you’re with him. You’ve talked to him about it, but Rafe can’t help but feel a little helpless in all of this. He has never met your friends. All he knows about them is what you’ve told him, and that is nowhere near enough to make conclusions, only assumptions.

There was something he said that eased your mind, “Isn’t Kristy who dislikes me the most? Then wouldn’t she be the one acting like a bitch?” And it makes sense, even when you felt like the insult was unnecessary. If it had been about you two, Kristy would’ve probably never looked you in the eyes. Let alone still talked, smiled, or hugged you like before.

And the cure for all your stress, said Rafe, is partying and alcohol. There was a time this week when all your worries regarding the number of people at the party completely evaporated, and all you wanted was to hang out with more people and forget all about these girls. Even when it still hurt. So, you decided to go by his advice.

Once you stepped inside the warm house where the party is taking place, you were pulled into a hug by Patty right as your foot touched the hardwood flooring. You laughed with her as she squeezed you into her arms, while, at the same time, making sure to curse Rafe out for never taking you to more parties so that the two of you could hang out.

And, whether you like it or not, Patty did separate you from Rafe almost instantly. She wanted to get you a drink. So, as soon as your bodies were disconnected from the hug, her hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you into the direction of the sea of people who seemed to not have the courage to jump into the pool just yet.

It’s been maybe an hour since you got to this party, and you haven’t seen Rafe since you came in. It stays like that for, possibly, an hour, but, at some point, Patty decides to walk elsewhere which only leads you to go find Rafe.

When you find him, he’s by the sliding doors that lead to the outside, amongst other guys from his usual group, and when you stand near him, it only takes a slight look down at you for Rafe to welcome you by his side.

To no one’s surprise, the conversation you get to listen to is very much boring, so the music outside and watching the people jumping into the pool is much better for entertainment. People are more than drunk already, and they’re jumping from all sorts of places into the pool. Other people just dance by it, and others sit at the chairs, deep in conversation.

The breeze that hits you from the open door you’re looking out of is just chlorine and some miss of alcohol, not exactly the best of smells.

By the time you and Rafe are left alone and happen to have a conversation on the most random of topics, your eyes are going from his face to the outside, finding people extremely interesting. His friends have begun to go outside as well.

Your hands are resting on his torso. Whereas for his, they go from holding your waist, so that you can stand still and close to him, to sometimes squeezing it to get your attention.

“No, that is dumb.” You tell him with a big smile on your face when you see him smile just as much. “How do they get home if he does that?”

“Soaking wet, probably.” He tells you, “It happens more times than you think.”

“But why? Where’s the fun in pushing people in the pool?” You continue to discuss Topper’s favorite activity whenever he’s very drunk at a pool party.

“Want to find out?”

Rafe is already pulling you off of him so that you can start making your way outside, but he can’t even hold back his smile when your eyes widen at his statement and even more at his actions.

There is absolutely no way that he’s offering to bring you into the fun of coming up behind a random person and just pushing them into the pool. In drunk-Topper’s philosophy, why would anyone come to this party and not expect to go in the pool? But, thankfully, you do not share the same philosophy.

You pull at Rafe’s wrist to hold him back from continuing to tease you about the whole thing, and he does. But, now that you two stand outside, you can tell his next step from a mile away. It's all from the way Rafe's smile changes from a playful one to a malicious one.

It’s by record time that you let go of his wrist and take a step back to escape him. Your heart has begun to beat faster as you look at your boyfriend, the same one that just stands handsomely in front of you as if he isn’t threatening to get you soaked to the bone in cold water.

“No.” You say to him as a warning, and he takes a step closer to you.

You dumbly hold out your hand as if that can ever stop him from getting to you, and every time he takes a step closer to you, you take one back. You, thankfully, notice that you’re getting backed up into a corner before you don’t have enough space to escape.

Once escaping from being backed up into the sliding door, you look around for some sort of backup. Specifically, one shaped like Patricia herself, even if that means sacrificing her. She is nowhere to be seen.

That slight distraction makes Rafe get closer to you, and you let out a sound that resembles a giggle and a scream, but not quite when you feel his hand just graze you. The two of you laugh together as you take another step back and find the sound that came out of you extremely interesting.

“Don’t, please.” You try to plead your way out of this, but Rafe only seems more entertained once you do it.

“I’m not trying to do anything, you’re just running away for no reason.” Rafe tries to tell you as his smile continues to stretch and tries to grab you yet again.

“Rafe,” You start, but you are very much interrupted when he gets yet too close again.

Over the sound of your voice, not too far from you, comes a cheer of someone’s name. A name that is familiar to you. As you look up to see for a few seconds, you are solely focused on him. He’s wearing normal clothes, ones typical for a warmer night. His hair could be a little longer, but he looks the same since the last time you’ve seen him. Aiden looks the same since the night you broke up with him.

Before you know it, your back hits the side railing of the porch, and your attention is brought back to Rafe, who happily gets a hold of you, having no idea who stands behind him. Rafe’s hands hold you and pick you up, and the sudden panic of being thrown into the pool comes back.

You try to get away from him by moving around and pushing him away from you, but as you now try the technique of holding him closer so that he can’t throw you anywhere, you notice how much he’s smiling at all of this. The bastard.

“Please, don’t do it.” You say to him.

Rafe’s response is to turn around to go in the direction of the pool, and you swear that you had no control of your body when you let out a certain shriek of panic.

“What do I get in return?”

“A non-wet girlfriend.” You tell him, making him laugh in your face. “That’s not enough?”

His silence is enough of an answer.

You fake a shocked expression and a clear look of disbelief, and Rafe just takes a step closer to the crowd.

“I will pull you in with me.”

“I have your phone in my pocket.” He reminds you

“I don’t care.” You say seriously, but with a chuckle following your words right away, breaking your character.

As Rafe continues to walk towards the pool, you simply hold him tighter, and you’re not sure how many times you tell him ‘please’ and ‘don’t’ as he makes his way to it. You make purely fake promises of how you will do anything he wants if he just doesn’t do this, or how you will buy him whatever he needs, but those promises fall on deaf ears.

“I will hate you forever.” You try your last resource.

He doesn’t even flinch at the words. You have no idea how distant from the pool you are at this point, but you only hold onto him tighter. If he really wants to throw you in, he’ll have to jump in himself, you are not about to surrender.

Knowing exactly how you have no idea of your surroundings, Rafe simply pauses and pretends to let you fall. And that is probably the funniest thing he could’ve ever done, because you let out one of those screams again and, when noticing that you’re still in his arms, you begin to repeat your previous promises while kissing his cheek.

Rafe only lets this torture last for a few more seconds before he actually lets go, which only leads you to believe that you’re being dropped into the pool again. You granted him a great smack in the arm right as your feet touched perfectly solid ground.

As you scowled at him, obviously mad at what he did to you just now, Rafe only smiles, holding your face as you do a frown that he can’t take seriously ever. He kisses you a few times, and that is what makes Aiden stand up straighter.

Aiden hasn’t seen you in a while, nor did he wish to. The heartache you gave him had been enough for him to want to stay away from you for the rest of eternity. All the missed calls or ignored texts after you two had broken up. It all hurts like the ache of a scar formed from a deep wound. A pain that never leaves, it just changes.

It has been more than a year, and he hasn’t seen you. You’re still absolutely beautiful, and you haven’t changed much, except for the fact that you have started dating again, by the looks of it.

Aiden has tried to pull his eyes away from you more than once, but his curiosity happens to be his worst enemy. He wants to keep looking. He wants to see if you’ve changed in the slightest bit, and he might even want to see the face of the person you’ve begun dating. He has looked away everytime the guy turned around and showed his face. Aiden only wanted to see you.

“Who are you looking at?” His friend asks, noticing how he has spaced out for a minute or two.

Aiden watches as you pull away from the kiss and how the frown is gone from your face. Your eyes are glued to the guy you kissed. His hand is on your face, holding it in place, thumb on one cheek as the other fingers hold the other. Your boyfriend kisses your pouty lips before saying something, Aiden assumes, teasingly, which leads to you smacking his arm and making the guy laugh.

He can read your lips when you pull away from his hold on your face and say “I will throw you in” with a serious expression on your face. The guy says something, and Aiden watches while you pursue your lips and look away to not laugh.

When the guy turns around this time, Aiden doesn’t look away. Someone must have called your boyfriend to get his attention away from you because he had moved so quickly. But Aiden wasn’t exactly expecting to see Rafe. Nothing would've prepared Aiden to see him.

Rafe brings his attention back to you when answering whatever someone had just asked him, and you had just started taking steps away. You tell him something that Aiden doesn’t understand, and Rafe reacts instantly to your words. He moves over to you and throws you over his shoulder, making you almost squeal your words while laughing at the same time.

“Aiden!” Aiden’s other friend calls out, “Come get drinks with us.”

Didn’t even need to tell him twice.

(...)

You’ve had a lot more to drink than you first planned to. You haven’t become completely out of control, but you are very much tipsy. You will trip if you walk by yourself for too long, and you will laugh at everything someone will tell you. With that, Rafe decided not too long ago that it was a better idea to have you seated somewhere and not having you walk around a pool.

As the night grew colder, everyone began to slowly go into the house and continue to party inside as well. Rafe has been sitting next to you on the couch ever since then, in a conversation with his friends.

Your legs are over his lap, and his hand has been smoothing over your skin and playing with the ends of your dress. And because of that, his attention is faulty. He is nowhere near sober either. Whenever your friends got distracted, the two of you shared kisses, and that led to a lot more. Which doesn’t surprise you.

You don’t blame yourself for what happened. Rafe had been laying distracting kisses over your shoulder and neck, and they were always so soft and slow. It got your attention. And it only took one more of your kisses for Rafe to pull himself up from the couch and take you with him.

You giggled your way through the empty hallways while the music continued to bounce off the walls. You found it funny to jump around, but also to have Rafe practically dragging you through the house, all while you can just hug his neck and rest your face on his chest.

One thing led to another, and you were in a bathroom on the other side of the house. The music was distant, but you could still feel its vibration on the door behind you. Your lips haven’t exactly disconnected from Rafe’s since you came in, and due to the presence of the music, your drunk mind found it more than okay for you to relax and not be as silent as always. Rafe was more than okay with that decision throughout the whole thing.

Rafe picked you up and trapped you between the door and him with your legs by his hips. His hands were lost underneath your dress, while yours eventually began to pull his shirt upwards so he could take it off. Once it hits the ground, the two of you were back to kissing like nothing had ever separated you.

You lose track of what Rafe does with all the stimulation of his hands on you and your foggy mind, and he holds you tighter to him when you moan against his lips, and he lets out a grunt against yours. You separate from the kiss as, for you, the pleasure has magically begun to burn at the bottom of your stomach.

Rafe watches you lean your head on the door as try to adjust to the position and to him, who has just slid inside you. And in seconds you were back to it. Rafe chuckles when you kiss him and lays his hand on the cold wood beside you. His other hand grips your thigh, holding you in place, and your hand grips his forearm.

Your moans start with his movements, feeling more sensitive than ever before, and that only seems to motivate Rafe. He separates his lips from yours and begins a trail of kisses down your neck. You hold onto his shoulders tightly and seem to lose complete control of what you say or do. One of your hands holds onto the back of his head, pulling at the strands of his hair.

The sudden pull makes Rafe’s hand drag soundly through the door to detach you from the door and hold you in his arms. Your eyes are closed when he moves, and you hiss at the cold of the counter. The discomfort only lasts seconds since pleasure completely substitutes it.

As Rafe thrust into you, some of the things that were once neatly on top of the counter fall on themselves or onto the ground. You leaned back on the stone counter, finding the cold on your burning skin awfully satisfying. Rafe’s eyes left your face, eyeing down at the two of you, where you connect, letting the fact of what the two of you are doing at a party rest on his mind. Your underwear had been pushed to the side, and he hadn’t even pulled his shorts completely down. Your dress was simply held up by your waist, and your skin has begun to glisten as he keeps on going. Sliding his cock in and out of you as you moan at every movement.

Your sounds aren’t too loud, but Rafe knows that people could hear it if they ever walked close enough to the door. He isn’t even sure if he locked it when he came in with you. Your eyes stay on him half closed as you bite in your lips to be quieter, and Rafe brings his hand down to your clit, leaving you in a complete puddle, and lose all control of the noise you make.

Rafe knows he says things to you throughout the whole thing, but he isn’t sure what exactly. And the same goes for you. Whatever it was, both of you responded to it, to each other. Even when you aren’t quite sure how because you cannot even bring yourself to think.

When it ends, Rafe does pull you closer and puts his hand over your mouth, muffling your moans. And as you two are left with ringing ears, heavy breathing, and with eyes half-closed, you can only kiss again and again. Completely drunk out of each other.

Your hands are lost in the strands of his hair, and Rafe’s holding you closer and closer to him. It takes you a good few minutes to walk out of the bathroom like nothing had happened, and, once you do it, you notice how no one noticed you were even gone.

(...)

Time went by and the alcohol eventually deemed its effects on you, which could only mean that it was time to go home. You weren’t alone on this. Patricia had very much fallen asleep on the couch in an awkward position, and you knew that taking her home would be better. Yet, for the minutes that you watched her asleep, you silently wished that were you.

It took you yawning mid-sentence in a conversation with Rafe about 5 times before he decided that the two of you were done for the night. Topper did the waking up of Patricia and helped her with grabbing her things while some of the guys helped with other things.

You leaned on Rafe as if he was a wall as they did it. Patricia, half-asleep and drunk, eventually got to you and began to tell you with slurred words how tired she felt, which made you agree with her with a nod.

“Are- are you going home?” Patricia asks you before hiccuping, “Like, really home? Or Rafe’s?”

Before you can answer, she continues with a gasp. “You could spend the night in mine.”

“I’m going home.” You tell her, blinking slowly.

She sassily side glances at you and then at Rafe as well, who isn’t even paying attention to her, but to Topper, who is drunkenly looking for one of his friend’s shoes under the couch.

Patricia, forgetting her hate towards you, grabs your hands and holds them as she swings your arms to the beat of the loud music. You smile at her and swing them with hers. Patty dances a little, as many moves as her tired and drunk body could pull off.

The two of you giggle after a few of her dance moves, and then you stop abruptly. A girl has just collided her shoulder with yours, hard, and it catches you off guard more than anything.

Due to that, Patricia loses her smile and faces the person right away. As you go to look at them and say the usual ‘it’s okay’, you see a girl. But a girl you’re sure you know from somewhere, which only makes you pause and reflect on who it could be.

“I’m sorry.” She tells you with a big drunken smile.

“You better be,” Patricia says before you can say anything back. You send her a glare as a warning.

“It’s okay.” You tell the girl, looking away to look at Patty again.

The girl doesn’t seem to walk away right away, and you feel Rafe lay his hand on your, still a little sore, shoulder. He smooths the skin, and right when you go to hold Patricia’s hand again, Rafe’s chest vibrates as he speaks.

“Got a problem?”

You eye him confused, but he isn’t talking to you. You look in the opposite direction, and your hands stop playing with Patricia’s, much to her confusion. Aiden stands beside you, eyeing you both, and then Rafe. And it suddenly clicks, that same girl had been Aiden’s friend when the two of you dated, and seemingly still is.

He eyes Rafe weirdly and then looks back at you.

“No problem, bro. Just wanted to say hi to an old friend,” He says while looking you in the eyes. “Hope you still remember me.”

You open your mouth to answer, but it is not needed. Aiden stretches his hand toward Rafe to introduce himself, “I’m Aiden.”

It doesn’t take long for Rafe to remember the day you said that same name, and because of it, Aiden’s hand stays untouched. Rafe continues to look down at him and bites his own tongue.

Aiden lets his hand awkwardly fall and offers Rafe a fake grin, which only grants him one back.

“Doesn’t look like she remembers you.” Rafe says, reinforcing his fake grin, “Keep it moving.”

“Oh, come on.” Aiden looks back at you. “You remember me, right, Y/N?”

Patricia lets go of your hands and holds your wrist instead. You don’t really understand her actions, and continue to only stare at Aiden in shock. You have absolutely no words to say to him.

“No?” Aiden asks you while spontaneously leaning closer to you so you could hear him better over the music, which only made you take that space back by leaning closer to Rafe.

Aiden looks at the two of you and doesn’t appear to get the hint.

“Are you two dating?” He asks, a smile appearing on his face as if he found his own words humorous.

“Yes.” You break your silence.

“That is so interesting.” He says to you, “I would never see someone like you with someone like him…” His eyes lift to Rafe, “No offense to you, bro. You just, you know, are very different from her type.”

His eyes do not leave you after he says that. His words make the air thicker. He fortifies the idea that he knows you and that he has known you for a while. He has a past with you.

“You must remember me. We used to have so much fun together.” You shake your head right away.

“Just leave, Aiden.” You tell him, growing tired of his pushing.

“Why?” He chuckles, “Because your big boyfriend is going to hit me?”

That confuses you and only leads you to notice how Rafe has, indeed, gone silent and instantly tense. You don’t look at Rafe to not give Aiden any satisfaction, and simply repeat your words.

“I’m serious.” You tell him. “Leave.”

He stays quiet and then takes a step back. Your lungs fill with air as a sign of relief, even when you know it won’t last for too long. Aiden stands before you still, and his eyes move all over your face, examining you. And then his eyes go down, down and down, and suddenly up. Disgust is the first thing that hits you, but you don’t let it show.

“Hopefully she won’t get as tired of you as she got of me,” He looks at Rafe. “You know how they are. Girls like her…” And then back at you. “Always looking for other guys to satisfy them, no matter who they hurt in the process. When the reality is that they will never be satisfied... Not whores like her.”

As he says it, Patricia moves quicker than you. She pulls at your wrist and away from Rafe, who simply moves forward, grabs Aiden, and slams his fist onto his face.

The music around you muffles, and everything slows down. Aiden loses balance after the impact and struggles to strike Rafe back. Some people get out of their way, and both of them move farther for you and Patricia, but continue to be entirely visible to your widened and panicked eyes.

It seems as quick as a blink when Aiden hits the ground with an awfully loud thud. From the distance, you can tell he already has a bloodied nose, twisted in an off-angle, as well as reddened teeth and knuckles. Making it awfully obvious that he has already hit Rafe too. Patricia pulls at your arm, making you look at her for a second, but even her eyes are glued to the fight.

More seconds go by, and people are stupidly starting to circle the men. Whenever you’re able to get another glance between everyone, the damage is worse.

Aiden's face twisted in pain, blood dripping off his mouth, punch after punch as he continues to struggle on the floor. Blow after blow, he slowly weakens. It is gruesome, to say the very least, and not something you're used to ever see.

With your feet still glued as ice to the ground and with your body stuck on the spot, you watch as Aiden does try to open his mouth to say something, and his hand lifts to stop Rafe with a plea. His hand doesn't ever lift to hit, just to hold him back. The same exact gesture you had done when playing around with your boyfriend merely hours ago.

Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight, as his pleas go unanswered. Rafe's fist collides with Aiden's face yet again and Aiden's pleas falter.

Patricia forces herself and you to move out of the house, and you cannot hear anything but your quickening heart. Your vision is faulty, making you feel as if you were blinking and holding your eyes closed for more than time then opened.

You look behind your shoulder before taking the last step down the porch only to see Aiden spread out on the floor, unmoving as Rafe begins to stand before him and letting out a breath, with his back towards you.

“Get in the car.” Patricia practically screams at you, snapping you back to reality and making you face the front.

You get in, and she closes the car door. At the lack of sound, the gruesome images suddenly consume your mind, inducing nausea and more of your shaking and uneven breaths. You cover your face with your hands as Patricia climbs into her seat beside yours and does not mutter a word.

Aiden's face, cut and broken. His silent screams inaudible over the music, and his pleas being cut short for another and another hit.

You knew it wasn’t a lie, that Rafe fought all the time. You had seen him just before a fight. But tonight had made it real. Too real. He fights until the other person can no longer handle it, until the other person cannot say any words that could make him stop. He doesn't stop until he sees enough blood to satisfy him. He doesn't stop until the person goes unresponsive.

No one had dared to push Rafe off of Aiden, not one of his friends. Even when Patty seemed moved, she didn't look at anything like it had been news to her. Rafe always does this. You know he does.

More than a month ago, you had cleaned his hands. Those that dripped with blood, and he hadn't wanted you to see them. You had giggled, found it arousing even. Such a filthy thing it had seemed. Never had it crossed your mind how real it all was. How he hurts someone so badly simply because they dare to cross him. He didn't hold back. He doesn't hold back.

You had never seen him like this, nor do you ever wish to again.

When your hearing clears slightly, you open your eyes and pull your hands away from your face. As you stare at them in the silent and dark car, you watch as they shake violently and listen to your heart not being able to slow down. You do not dare to look up, afraid of who you might see coming out of the house.

As you let out a shaky breath, you feel only one thing ripping through you. Fear.

Didn't I say shit would hit the fan? I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER. I know this isn't my best work, but I tried my best. Love y'all <3

562 notes · View notes

stuckysbike · 1 year

Text

Mine

I wrote this whilst drunk. Im still drunk so there’ll probably be mistakes and there all mine.

Notes: fluff, angst, possessive Bucky? happy ending.

Bucky/Reader various.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you scowled narrowing your eyes dramatically as you drew your straw between your lips. The sweet honey whiskey and soda flowed gently over your tongue.

Beside you Peter Parker giggled.

You ignored him. “I fucking hate that bitch.”

“Now now,” Peter Quill, the barman, chastised. You gave him the finger.

“Bugger off Quill,” he returned the sentiment as he walked away, clearing your view.

You sighed in irritation. “What were you wanting to happen?” Wanda asked softly.

“A sinkhole, big enough for her, to swallow her,” you muttered darkly.

“Are there sinkholes in New York?” Pietro asked.

“There are sinkholes wherever the fuck I want sinkholes to be,” you muttered darkly. You took another sip of your drink and waved at Quill for a refill.

There was another loud laugh and her hand brushed down Bucky’s chest.

“I also am suspicious of her,” Zemo leaned close. You elbowed him in the gut and he drew back with an oaf.

“Oh for fuck sake here comes fanboy number three,” you glowered as Sam walked through the door followed by Joaquin. Jay had the decency to roll his eyes and head towards you leaving Sam with Steve and Bucky to fawn over Sharon.

“She’s overrated,” Jay said taking the seat next to you.

“Thank you!” You cried.

“At least you have more friends than her,” Pietro said.

“I am honoured to be part of this friend grou-“

“NO!” You, Peter, Wanda, Pietro and Jay called.

Zemo pouted and you drew your attention away. In another life he’d be cute but he was, well he was Zemo.

Sharon had slid her arm around Bucky’s waist and his arm was on her shoulders when you looked back. Sharon was cooing at how cute Steve and Sam were as a couple. You imagined crushing her windpipe, but you were no special agent. You were just a normal girl with a normal life who happened to fall in love with your fuck buddy neighbour who was none other than Bucky Barnes.

“I could take her out,” Pietro said. “It would be so fast no one would know.”

You considered this but dismissed it. Instead you ordered another drink. And that’s how you found yourself dancing with none other than…Zemo.

God you hated his pretty smug face. “God I hate your pretty smug face.” You said.

Zemo didn’t care, just wiggled his hips. Behind him Sharon was dancing with Sam but she kept glancing back at Bucky.

This morning you woke in his arms, his lips dancing across your shoulders but now you hated him. Your chest hurt and you wanted to sit in a corner and scream like a petulant child. Instead you returned to your seat as the song ended.

Bucky moved over beside you and you studied his profile out of the corner of your eye.

“What?” You asked.

“What are you doing?” He nodded towards Zemo.

You followed his gaze. “He’s…cute.”

Bucky snorted and you turned to look at him. “You could do better.”

“You and Sharon looked cosy earlier,” you said.

“Yeah she’s a good girl,” Bucky murmured looking her way.

You made a face and took a drink. Bucky was looking at you again. “Meh, she’s not all that.”

“You don’t like her?” Bucky asked.

You shrugged a shoulder. “I hate her,” you admitted.

“Why?” Bucky sounded genuinely confused.

She’s got you, say it say she’s got you.

Instead you shrugged. “It’s a vibe I get,” you muttered. “She seems like your type, pretty, fit, skilled. You should date her.”

“She asked me out earlier,” Bucky admitted.

You nodded in understanding. This morning was the last time you would be with him. He’d move on and so would his friends and eventually you’d be a memory.

“Where are you going?” You asked. Your body ached, your heart most of all. You weren’t pretty it sexy enough for him. Bucky wanted a girl like her. You could already imagine them together.

“Said no,” Bucky told you. You turned to look at him. “I didn’t like it when Pietro hugged you earlier. Or when Zemo danced with you.”

“Why not?” You breathed.

Bucky leaned close until you could see the blue of his eyes. “I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” You cocked your head. He smiled again.

“Jealous. I wanted to cut their hands off for daring to touch you,” he growled as he leaned closer. You couldn’t resist resting your hand on his chest. His dog tags were nestled beneath his shirt.

“Touch me?” You repeated.

Bucky’s smirk was wide. “You’re my girl, and I’m about sick of other people not knowing that,” he said.

You made a fist, catching the tags under his black tee and pulling him closer. He tasted of whiskey and musk and Bucky and you sighed into his body. His kiss was hot and his stubble rasped against you but you didn’t care.

Cheers erupted around you and there were a few catcalls.

“About time,” Quill muttered darkly.

“Bucky. I’m drunk. I want to go home and have lazy sloppy sex.” You said kissing his cheek wetly.

“Yeah?” He asked as he looked at you. You nodded, and together you walked out of the bar. Before you left you caught sight of Sharon glowering your way. Bucky’s arm was on your shoulders and you snuggled closer to his body blowing her a kiss as you passed by. You didn’t see her response but you guessed what exactly it was.

Smiling, you leaned into your boyfriend as you walked home.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

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lostmyremembrall · 11 months

Note

Prompt three please! 📖

📖𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝑨 𝑯𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕

Will you keep it safe for him?

𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐽𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 1𝐾 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡! Now closed

“Imagine that, you can do anything you want now!” Canopus Lestrange smirked and fell back to the couch, spilling the contents of his drink onto the shabby old seating, along with, unfortunately, Abraxas Malfoy’s lap that happened to be in its way.

The room was full of the loud chatter of your friends, some even from other houses. It was one, massive and successful party as they engaged in idle chitchat, laughter erupting from around the room as butterbeer continued to flow.

Abraxas furrowed in visible displeasure at his trousers. “Just because they’re now 16, doesn’t mean they should be following in your footsteps, Canopus,” he gave a cool side glance to his friend as he dabbed away at his trousers with a napkin.

“Lord knows how difficult my life has become just to keep an eye on you,” Abraxas sighed exasperatedly, turning his pleading eyes up to you. “I beg of you, I’m so tired.”

You grinned into your glass of butterbeer, Abraxas mirroring the gesture as an amusing shimmer returned to his eyes. “No promises, I’m afraid,” you chuckled. “You’re going to get us out of trouble in the end, anyway.”

“The Headmaster and the Ministry are already tired of hearing your names,” Abraxas chuckled warily, recollecting the number of times he had to write letters, using his connections and the famous last name. “I’m tired of your names.”

You tossed your head back in laughter before beaming at your drunk friends. It has been a wonderful birthday party orchestrated by Abraxas, though Canopus and Alphard Avery would argue that they helped by bringing the fun.

Your still-laughing eyes wandered across the room, settling on the certain, mysterious, tall, and handsome man in the corner. He was leaning against the wall in the quieter area, his Michelangelo hand holding the rim of the glass against his lips as his curious eyes studied you. His left forearm crossed in front of him, supporting the weight of his right arm as well as the glass of whiskey that he opted for. Noticing your gaze, his left brow rose in an inquisitive suggestion.

“Oh, come on, Abraxas, you love us,” you teased the blond, never taking your eyes off of Tom, to which Abraxas responded with a wave of his hand.

“I’ll need a few more drinks to admit something like that.”

“Well then, you better be more drunk by the time I come back,” you finished your glass with a swing, settling on the table beside the couch. “It is my birthday after all.”

You winked at the blond, ignoring the exaggerated roll of his eyes before manoeuvring your way around the room to your boyfriend.

“Finally,” was Tom’s first word upon reaching him. “I was wondering when I’ll get you to myself,” he smirked.

“What can I say,” your eyes shimmered in amusement. “It’s hard being this popular.”

Tom rolled his eyes, but did not care to correct your statement.

“Come on,” he kicked himself off of the wall. “Let’s get out of here.”

You felt the distinct flutter of your heart when you were with Tom. You smiled eagerly and followed him out of the double doors.

The silence that greeted you was near deafening when you two left the Room of Requirement. Tom let out a long sigh, as if a heavy weight has been lifted off of his chest. Your eyes caught sight of his gait that immediately relaxed upon leaving the room, being reminded that parties were not his scene. It showed: the mask he shed when he was just with you.

You noticed halfway through that Tom was leading you towards the Transfiguration courtyard. At the sky that opened up, he took in a deep breath of fresh air. His head dropped back as his lips softened into a smile, gazing up at the starry night.

“Do you remember?” he breathed out. “The night we met looked something like this.”

You followed his gaze; the translucent fabric of the deep nightshade blue blanketed the lines of the castle, illuminated from underneath by the orange torch flames that flickered here and there. It was an unusually cool night despite the nearing graduation; the air was crisp and chilly, aiding in cooling down the heat that rose to your cheeks from the rounds of butterbeer.

“How could I?” you murmured, relishing in the sweet memory of the night you first met the then-prefect during his nightly patrol. He was comically stoic, only responding in short hums and nods. He’s come a long way, you admitted, from exchanges of sarcastic comments to opening up about his dark deeds and his visions for the wizarding society. In the few years that he’s known you, he’s grown attached to you – protective, even.

You thoughts were interrupted when you felt the back of his hand brush against yours. It was surprising, how timid he still was in these advances. With a quick glance, you studied his features, trying to decipher his intentions in the shadows that cast over his stark features. His eyes wavered back and forth before him at the grass of the courtyard, biting his lips. He seemed to be building himself up to something.

Tentatively, he took your hand in his. It was very gentle, contrary to his usual abrupt movements. In the mere seconds, you felt the warmth of his hand spread to you. As if his circulation made its way around your body, warming you through your core, reaching your cheeks, until it was returned right at him through their hands. His palm was rough and coarse in the places that he held his quill.

You smiled against the wind, trying to conceal your blush. It was then, that a cool, sharp object pressed into your palm. Your brows knitted at the unforeseen sting, and looked down to his hand that held yours.

“What is this?”

You turned your palm, Tom’s hand slipping out of yours in the process. In the orange light of the torch, you found a ring: an octahedral black stone set into a golden band, embellished with elegant etchings.

Tom turned to you to study your expressions carefully, intent on detecting any sign of disappointment. “... your gift,” he quietly said in the end.

You blinked rapidly at the small object in your hand that still exuded grandiosity. “Tom… it’s beautiful,” you managed to whisper.

Your words seemed to encourage the Head Boy, whose eyes now held a certain glimmer of excitement. “It’s an heirloom, actually,” he continued, a hint of pride concealed in the inflexion of his voice, “about 700 years antique.”

You gasped, the ring suddenly seeming too heavy for your hand. “I–, I can’t accept this, Tom–”

“You must,” Tom’s urgent tone took you off guard, effectively silencing you. You peered into his eyes, his lips pursed and his hands nervously gripping at each other at his waist.

He almost seemed – despserate for you to keep it.

Coming to his senses, Tom tore his eyes away from you with a blink. “I–,” he searched for words. “You’re the only one I would trust it with.”

He reached for the ring that still lay flat on your palm. “I’ve cast a very powerful spell on it,” he continued in a low voice, evading your eyes. “A part of my soul – a part of me is encapsulated in it.”

Staring into his abyssal irises, you intuited a very arduous and torturous process that went into creating this gift. Tom took another step towards you, his towering figure shielding you from the wind and engulfing you with his warmth. His fingertips held your hand in the air, sliding the ring onto your middle finger. The obsidian echoing the two black lakes of Tom’s eyes. You thought the ring felt warm – whether it was the trick of your mind or the effects of the spell – the warmth of Tom’s presence contained within the ring –, you weren’t sure.

“This way, I’ll be close to you wherever I go,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Tom’s eyes softened, his eyes saccading across your features as they took you in. The corners of his lips rose in utter bliss and serenity that your presence brought him. His fingers rose to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers tracing down your skin and lingering on your cheeks before he finally relinquished your touch.

But, your mind was too distracted by his wording to pay heed to the tender moment. Your eyes flickered between his, confusion clouding your eyes as you murmured, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Uh,” Tom bit his lips, his eyes sharpening in a slight alarm at having spoken too much. “A small graduation trip,” he hastily added.

A cold breeze suddenly seemed to infiltrate the space they held between, dampening any remnants of excitement and cheer from the birthday party. A small trip, was all he said. Not even a destination. There was a slight pang in your heart at the revelation that, for whatever reason, you weren’t allowed to accompany him, and Tom was unwilling to disclose anything more.

Tom had clearly sensed the gloom that had overtaken your features. “It’s dangerous,” Tom explained. “Very dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous,” you responded, somewhat curtly. Your gaze fell on the ring, realising with bitterness that this ring will be the only reminder that you’ll have of Tom until his return.

“Yes, I’m well aware,” Tom nodded. “Which is why I am leaving this with you,” he sighed, his eyes turning downcast as he took your now ringed finger to observe it under the warm lumination. The stone gave an enigmatic glint in the light.

“This took the destruction of two men’s souls to create,” Tom breathed out, his narrowed eyes piercing at the ring in a mixture of veneration and haunting wonder. The wince of his brows interrupted the observation for a brief moment, however, at the reminder of the heavy price he had to pay.

He slowly bent forward, bringing his lips close to your fingers. You watched in silence, frozen on the spot, as he pressed his lips against your ringed finger. It was subdued, yet somehow passionate, revealing the devotion he felt for you – and perhaps tried to hide. However brief, it left an unforgettable scorching heat on your fingers that you would come to associate with the ring.

By the time his resolute eyes rose to you once more, any hint of regret was gone. “My soul now belongs to you, (y/n),” he whispered.

His eyes softened in reverence at the sight of you haloed by the torch light. His lips pursing to contain his quivering sigh. His brows quirked nervously as he entrusted his whole life to you.

“Will you keep it safe?”

A/N: I missed writing for Tom. A bit rusty, maybe. But I love that with Tom, you can't tell whether he's just being deceptively sweet and manipulative or genuinely in love. I am sorry it took so long to get to your request. Thank you for joining in on the celebration!

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 3 months

Text

Best and Worst of Both worlds (part 15)

Tw: just yandere but nothing much in this chapter, mentions of hospitalization

Vote for the chapter beloww im gonna start making the next part when it reaches 20 votes i do not give a shet beyond the first 20 ppl 💯 cause i wanna churn it out as fast as possible

part 16

He knows you're going to say no. That is why, Yves hasn't asked you to move in with him yet. Even if you did say yes, he knows deep down you would do it out of pressure and worse yet, resent him for flaunting his wealth. Yves has to be patient and make you think the relationship is going at your pace.

Your housemates had a field day with your landlord, ordering him around and whining about the condition of the house. He would begrudgingly agree to fix and pay for it, and if he showed the slightest bit of protest, they would yell out of Yves.

He doesn't even need to look in his general direction for your landlord to fold.

You still have no idea what the relationship is between him and Yves. If he was a coworker to him, why would your landlord be so afraid of someone on the same level?

Every time you ask Yves about him and the landlord, he would somehow manage to make you talk about yourself. When you caught your slip up, you would try again, he would smile sweetly and repeat the cycle.

At least you managed to find out that he worked as an attorney at some point in his life. That is most likely how he met your landlord, becoming his public defender or prosecutor when Yves was in his youth... even that wasn't made clear.

In the end, you decided to ask him one straight forward question:

'What are you doing at the University?'

That should be simple enough. You really hope he doesn't bring you on another trip of embarrassing yourself. Yves has that extraordinary talent of doing that.

He propped his head up on his elbow, he chuckled and shifted in his seat.

"Well, what do you think I'm doing at the University?"

You said you don't know. A studying? He's a student there?

"Then, that is what I am."

Is he?

"Perhaps." He crooned.

You pulled on your hair in exasperation. You asked why he won't give you straight answers.

"Can you look at me with a straight face?" Yves leaned forward, letting his luscious locks brush your arm.

You don't want to try, you know you can't. He's just too attractive and eerie at the same time. He laughed, his voice sounding like the loveliest melody to your ears.

"Oh, (name). You're so fun to tease." You whined when he tickled you under your chin.

You pulled away and pretend to drink from your mug to try and hide your embarrassment.

"Your cup has been empty for the last three minutes. What is there to drink, dear?" He stood up, smiling from your poor attempt to conceal your face as he picked up the kettle. "There is no need to hide your adorable face, no matter how flushed." He continued as he refilled his own mug.

You let out a loud 'damn' before pleading him to give you a break from his relentless ribbing. You knew he had a shit-eating grin even though his back is facing towards you.

He turned around, placed his filled cup on the table and took your empty one to refill it. Your teabag bounced around the water, releasing dark pigments and flavours to it.

Well, you know he likes tea. Jasmine and black tea are so far what you thought were his favorites.

When you stretched your arm to grab it, you noticed Yves staring at Montgomery's faded inked phone number with an empty expression. Which was jarring, because it was from a happy one.

You began stuttering and panicking. Yves merely stared you right in the eyes. Eventually, his gaze made you lock up. You don't know where to start. You don't know if you even want to tell Yves what happened at this point. It was a long story and an extremely stressful experience.

"You don't have to tell me what happened." He whispered, placing a hand on the top of your thigh and applying gentle pressure on it. "What can I do for you?"

You thought about it for a while. Then you eventually asked if he could dispose of your old medication for you. Yves looked at you expectedly, waiting for an explanation.

So you provided him with one; you had an allergic reaction that sent you to the hospital.

You began unravelling the details one by one. Being unable to sleep, trying to get some free drinks and snacks at the University, mistakenly bringing his powerbank instead, being kidnapped by Montgomery but he saved your life and paid for your bills, so you didn't rat him out. The 4 sandwiches and 2 hash browns you devoured, the $40 and the bus. And also how Montgomery wrote on your arm.

Yves watched you vent about the events that happened yesterday. He sipped on his tea as he listened, he didn't have to say another word for you to keep going endlessly.

He loves the sound of your voice, and to encourage you to keep going, he would provide subtle cues. Such as leaning towards you, nodding at the right time, maintaining eye contact and blinking appropriately.

With that, you're unstoppable. You kept talking and Yves kept listening. Yapping until the sun goes down and the sky goes dark.

Even by then, your landlord is still here fixing all the broken items he was supposed to take care of earlier.

Yves spared a glance at your landlord trudging up the stairs again after one of your housemates mentioned the flickering lights. A small smirk made its way to his lips, they're having their own fun, giving him and you some privacy in the kitchen.

You concluded your long-winded story and immediately after regained sentience. You looked around your surroundings and it's completely different. You're in your room, your lock is fixed, you're already fed and you're now on Yves's lap.

He's sitting crosslegged on the floor and you're sitting on the gap like a chair, his arms are cradling you close to him.

That was... easier than you expected. You got everything out in 5 hours. It's now 9pm.

"Thank you for telling me." Yves mumbled in your hair. You close your eyes and rest the side of your head against his chest. Neither of you had anything else to say, nor did you want Yves to comment on the events that happened.

You don't even know what you want him to do. That's why you're grateful he didn't ask you that question again. You didn't necessarily want Montgomery to face any criminal charges because you would feel guilty if he did.

However, you do wonder what Yves thinks of all of these.

"It was kind of that man to care for you in my absence. I appreciate that of him." As if he were reading your mind, he spoke once more. You nodded in agreement. "However, he is still delusional and demented. I do not know the full extent of his insanity." Yves knows.

"Regardless, I do appreciate the intent we share to ensure your safety and comfort. Even if he does it in an entirely different way than I would have approached it." He went on, holding you a smidge tighter to his body.

"What do you think about him?" He asked, twirling your hair around his fingers. You looked up at his face to see a soft gaze, you knew he wouldn't pass too much judgement on your opinion.

So you thought about your answer. Yves patiently waits for you and added to your growing collection of lipstick prints on your face.

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puhpandas · 6 months

Text

Decennial

(2,396 words)

Evan and Gregory, now age twenty-two, celebrate the tenth anniversary of their meeting in the comfort of their shared apartment.

Its already the afternoon when Evan meets Gregory at the couch in their shared apartment, smartphone in hand. Gregory glances up from whatever he was watching on TV, quickly grabbing the remote to pause the channel.

He doesn't even have a chance to greet him before he notices Evan's face. Worry quickly creases his brows, and he moves to get off of the couch. "Evan? Hey, what's wron--"

Evan tries to convey that everything's fine with no words. Because it's true. He just can't muster any up right now. When Gregory seems to understand enough, that's when Evan thrusts his phone into Gregory's line of sight.

Gregory shifts on the couch, taking the phone and studying the screen to no avail. Hes pulled up the calendar on his phone, the date reading March 4th, 2045. Gregorys brows furrow, then, "Uh. I dont understand."

Evan would have rolled his eyes if he weren't so emotional right now. He scoffs, tapping the screen and mumbling "The date. Look at the date."

It only takes another moment for Gregory to understand. Evan can almost see the gears turning in his friends head in the moments before he gasps sharply. "Oh!"

Gregory doesn't look away immediately, just taking it in as if it surpises him. "Its ten years since we met today."

Evan nods at that. A small smile stretching on his face when Gregory finally turns to look at him.

But he should know by now -really, it's been ten years after all- that Gregory knows him. Probably better than Evan himself.

"What's with that look?" Gregory questions, seemingly noticing how Evans smile doesnt quite reach his eyes. "You look sad."

Evan shakes his head immediately. "No-- that's not it." He replies, feeling a bit more fit to speak. "Its just..."

"Ten years?" Gregory prompts, and Evan nods. Gregory seems to get it. He sighs a bit, and Evan can tell hes not alone in reminiscing. "Jeez. Thats..."

"...A long time ago." "A big number." They say at the same time.

Evan joins Gregory on the couch, taking his phone back. Ten years. Ten years since he met Gregory. Ten years since Evan had been that little ball of anxiety. Ten years since the best thing that ever happened to him.

Nine years since their first holidays together. Eight years since they started high school. Four since they graduated. Three since they started college.

One year since they got their first apartment together.

Evan chuckles all of the sudden, loud as a jet engine in the seemingly silent room. "Do you remember what we always wanted to do as kids?"

Gregory only has to think for a moment. "You mean what we made a reality?"

"Yeah." Evan replies. "We got that apartment. Not exactly the college dorm we imagined, though."

"Psh. Are you kidding? Our apartment is way better than any dorm we could have gotten." Gregory scoffs. "We would have like. One room to our name, and we would have to share."

Its Evan's turn to scoff, this time. He smiles, the memories coming back easily. "You're acting like we didnt basically share your room when we were thirteen."

"You were always there." Gregory agrees, but Evan knows by now that Gregory doesn't mean it in a bad way. Never. That's one of the things that have changed since they met. Evan doesnt assume the worst first, and ask questions later anymore. "You got that right."

"Thank god we had Vanessa to tell us what to do." Evan says. "We would be lost without her."

Gregory snorts, shuffling on the couch. Evan glances over, and strangely, being here, in this moment, even though its nothing differnet from what he and Gregory do every day, reminds him so much of when he and Gregory would just hang out together on his bed. Drawing, watching videos, talking and laughing... all of it.

"Its a good thing she told us to get an apartment while we still could." Gregory says. "We would have burned down the entire dorm."

Evan giggles at the thought. It wouldn't be the first time he and Gregory would make a mess in the kitchen. He still remembers how scared he was as a fourteen year old, when he had burned some of the food meant for Vanessa's 'Welcome Home' dinner Gregory insisted they make. The Fazbears house had stunk of char and smoke for days afterwards.

He was terrified at the time. If he had ever done anything like that at his old house...

He shakes that thought away. He does that often. Thinking back to his time alone with his father and brother. His biological ones. It's been a challenge, shutting down his brain when it tries to recall the memories.

Its another thing that's changed. As a kid, he knew nothing about helping himself and his anxiety. He didnt want to. He never saw himself as worthy of deserving relief, and it was so subconscious, little Evan never even realized it.

Now, it couldn't be more different. Hes never been healthier.

Who knew all it took was a best friend for life?

He looks over at Gregory. Who's still recounting some of their old childhood memories. Evan doesnt talk to Michael anymore. The damage he caused is too much to ignore. Evan... Evan doesnt want to see him anymore. Despite Michaels wake up call, it had been all too late. The damage had been done.

Michael missed his chance. Evan had decided that a long time ago. Maybe he should have had his change if heart earlier if he didnt want Evan to find the brother he always wanted in someone else.

Because that's what Gregory is. Its nothing new, they were having these revelations when they were only teenagers. Probably even earlier for Evan. But Evan never stops thinking about how much Gregory truly is his family.

That suprise and shock of the kindness hed received from Gregory from little Evan ten years ago is hard to shake when all hed been taught his whole life is how to hate himself. How he deserved to be treated badly, because if he hadn't been the way he was, he could have made himself worthy. A respectable man. Tough. An immovable rock. Real men dont show their emotions, or even experience them. Real men can defend themselves. Real men start to toughen up at the ripe age of twelve.

Evan is twenty two, now. So is Gregory. This life they'd built for themselves, with such a bright future... little Evan never would have even dreamed of. Little Evan had thought there was nothing there for him. Little Evan had thought there was no light at the end of the tunnel. That he had been doomed from the start. That his nature nipped his figure at the bud before it could begin.

This life theyve built for themselves. When Evan had ran to the Fazbears as soon as he'd turned eighteen with only a bag of clothes, a binder full of drawings, and yellow bear to his name. When he'd shared the room that felt like his own as well growing up with Gregory. When they'd spent those few months together until getting into the same college and choosing an apartment.

This life theyve built for themselves. That Evan would have only seen as a fantasy when he was eleven.

Theyve changed so much. It always shocks Evan every time he sees an old photo, or really remembers what it had been like pre-Gregory. Evan is growing out his hair, now. Before, all hed ever had was a months overgrown generic slickback. But he gets to choose now. Like how he paints his nails. Gregory has never really cared about his appearance, but he saw a photo of his Dad as a college student and immediately went to go replicate the blue streaks in his hair when it was time for himself to go off to college.

Evan almost laughs sometimes when he thinks about how much Gregory really is just an older version of who he was when he was twelve. He's different, like Evan is, but he's the same as well. A constant.

He knows hes the same, as well. Just with longer hair, bolder clothes, and the power of experimentation. Gregory has never been one to care much about his clothes, but to Evan, its everything. To be able to wear what he always wanted as a kid. To not be confined to whatever annual clothes his Father would buy him from the back to school section. Its freeing.

It's in that moment that he thinks back, really thinks back to his life pre-Gregory, and the contrast of the before and after.

It's all too much, in that moment. The memories and the sentiments and the nostalgia. In true Evan fashion, he cries about it.

Gregory has long since learned how to differentiate Evan's tears between his emotionality and a genuine issue. So when Evan begins wiping silent tears away, he just smiles one of those smiles he does, and pats him on the shoulder, pulling him in for a side hug.

Its digging a hole in Evan's chest, this feeling. It's not bad. But it's not exactly good either. It's some kind of a loss, but a hope as well. Remembering how much he loved back then. As much as he loves right now.

"I--" Evan stutters, sniffling. Gregory hands him one of the many boxes of tissues they always have on hand in their apartment. "It... It feels like we need to celebrate, somehow. I mean... ten years is big."

Evans mind floats to a cake. Or a two person party. Or a collaborated drawing. Evan's mind floats to many things. Many options. Ten years is big, right? Something that big needs a big party. Something big to commemorate it.

But Gregory just hums, and lays eyes on the thick shelf of DVDs they have tucked by the wall right by their TV. "How about a movie night?"

Evan's about to interrupt, say something about the milestone, but Gregory continues. "Do you remember all our favorites as a kid?"

Evan stops himself short, almost scoffing, because of couse he does. How could he not, when he and Gregory had stayed up so many times to watch them together, alongside stifled giggles and ice cream straight out of the carton? "Of course I do."

Gregory gets off the couch, crouching by the bookshelf and picking out a select few movies. Evan catches the titles on the packaging from all the way were hes sitting. Every single one of them is special to him.

Gregory deposits the movies on their coffee table, three DVDs spilling out onto the glass surface. "Then I can't think of a better way to spend the night."

Despite Evan's attempts, he cant either. Despite watching these movies almost regularly with Gregory even now, opening the casing feels different in this moment. It feels special. Evan feels like hes thirteen again.

Before starting their marathon, they make a huge bowl of popcorn, pouring caramel on it just how they liked it as kids. As they continue to now. Evan gets the carton of ice cream out of the fridge, handing Gregory his spoon and taking his own.

All they need is a throw blanket and they're ready. It's the exact setup they've done for years. Starting ten years ago today. This tradition has lasted this long, and it will outlive the milestone.

It feels so familiar, Evan cant stop thinking. His emotions are dialed up to eleven tonight. It only increases when the sky darkens outside their windows. He remembers coming home from school with Gregory and just. Immediately piling onto his bed with snacks and pillows and turning the lights off before they'd dive into another movie. Only going to bed when Freddy forced them to.

Because that's what it was. Thats what it still is. Home. All Evan feels right now is home.

They laugh at all the same parts. They cry as well. They cheer. They point out the same things. Nothing has changed.

Sure, ten years is big. But Evan can't think of a better way of spending the anniversary than continuing to do what hes loved to do with Gregory throughout the years. This doesnt mark the end of an era, or a big change. It marks how long hes had the gift of his brother. His family. His real family. The fifteenth mark will, as well. So will the twentieth.

All the tenth mark says is hes had ten years worth of joy and growth. and He'll continue to do just that.

After the third movie, Evan takes a quick look at his phone. The numbers 12:03 look back at him from his lockscreen, a picture of him and Gregory. The date has switched to the 5th.

"You're my brother." Evan says suddenly to Gregory at the beginning of the fourth movie. Gregory pauses in stuffing his face with popcorn to look over at Evan's earnest face. "You know that?"

Gregory chuckles wetly. It seems Evan isn't alone in the sentimentality tonight. "Only since we were preteens."

Gregory pulls him into that same side hug he always does. "You're my family." Gregory tells him sincerely. "You always will be, too. Hell would freeze over before our family would ever say you aren't one of theirs."

Evan chuckles, eyes misty, because he knows its true. He can imagine his family's reactions so vividly. "I know."

They only sink further into the hug after that, the movie continuing on. Theyve long since stopped with the thank yous. Not since they got it through Evan's thick skull that they arent doing him a favor. They just love him.

It's in that moment that Evan realizes that tomorrow is another day. And there are more after that and after that. Theres more milestones to reach, more years to spend with his brother and their family, and he cant wait to experience them.

But right now, he's content continuing a ten year long tradition as a mundane celebration for a non-mundane achievement.

It's not mundane to him at all, anyway. It means the world to him.

Besides, he can't imagine a world where his family doesn't throw a suprise party for him when he and Gregory visit them tomorrow.

ao3 link

#after writing so much about how gregory affects evan in the present i wanted to do something different.#especially since this is the 10th work in the series!#so this fic takes place in the future. in my little universe gregory and evan continue to live together for a very very long time.#i imagine after so long of in their heads adopting evan #and also gregory and evans mutual feelings of being family and eachothers siblings they would just.#not beat around the bush any longer. i think everyone knew in their minds #but when evan hightailed it to the fazbears when he turned 18 they all actually sat down and were like #okay so we agree that evan is ours now.#anyway their lives continue to be good and they have eachother and experience life with one another.#they feel emotional in this fic over it being a decade since they met but there are no hard feelings over their current life.#just reminiscing over their childhoods :) especially since its so special to evan specifically as a turning point in his life #he feels more intensely over it #i wanted to write somethinf different with them and here we are #i make myself emotional over my own incredibly specific au #pandas writes #flashlight duo #flashlight duo modern au #flashlight duo oneshots #gregory and evan #this is classified as the future with them being kids as the present in the universe btw #oneshot #nostalgia #the fazbears #fnaf gregory #evan afton #au

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peepism · 6 months

Text

Number | Levi Ackerman

modern AU! Levi sees you standing in line with your friends waiting to order some food, he strikes up a conversation in hopes to getting your number. Some swearing, obviously. (Levi is also around the same age, not much of an age gap)

wc: 1,369

The streets of Maria were full of loud bustling this particular evening, with children screaming in joy while continuously going up and down play structures at the local park, people selling their products at the market, and various activities being held.

Everyone was outside, including the college students whom usually would've stayed in their dorms studying for their year end exams.

"I SAY WE GO GET SOME ICE CREAM!" Sasha randomly chimed in, bringing your focus to your large group of friends, that was one way to break your train of thought.

"I agree, the sun is out and everyone is enjoying their time. Surely it won't hurt to get some sweets in our stomachs." Historia- better known as Krista added, her sweet smile making anyone want to agree.

You trailed behind them, keeping your mouth shut just out of habit, occasionally pulling out your phone to check if you had gotten any messages from anyone. It wasn't that you weren't interested in being out spending time with them, not at all, it was just your anxiety from being out in the open and also thinking about how much studying you'll need to cram. Especially your psychology, that class had no breaks what so ever and the content was heavy. "Y/n, you alright?" A small voice beside your whispered, causing a small jump from you. "I'm fine Mikasa."

"Y/n/n.. be honest. Usually you're being loud and obnoxious right now with everyone else. What's going on?" She pestered more, her grey eyes practically piercing into your soul.

– I suppose I'm just a bit stressed, is all.

– About what? You know you can talk to me, it's not like I'll tell the others.

– It's just the studying I need to do, sure, I shouldn't be thinking about it and should be out here enjoying my time with everyone but I just can't. You all know how much I've been struggling lately in Psychology.

– I know, but hey... will those hot guys take your mind off it for even a little while?

Your e/c looked to where she had nudged, a small mischievous smile trying it's best to not appear on your lips, knowing full well she would have proved her point if you allowed her to see it. This caused stifled laughter from the both of you, making everyone else turn around in curiosity, demanding and begging for you both to reveal the secret but to no avail.

"Seriously, what is it Mikasa?" An angry Eren continued, bugging the poor girl. It was incredibly obvious they both fancied one another. You just couldn't stand the bickering, which lead you to pushing past them up to the front so you could order your ice cream.

Unbeknownst to you, Levi Ackerman had walked up having spotted his sister and Eren. Questioning them on what they were up to and vice versa, until his eyes had landed on you.

His slender fingers grabbed Mikasa's arm, wanting her to pay close attention to what he had to say. It was a weird habit of his he had, he also wasn't the most gentle with his grip either. "Who's that?" His eyes squinted, his head giving a curt nod in your direction.

– That's Y/n L/n. A friend of mine, clearly.

– No shit, fuckface. Clearly she's a friend of yours. Is she single?

– Why do you want to know? She's too young for you, besides. Why would I want you dating a good friend of mine. It's weird.

– "I'm not even that fucking old?" Levi scowled, his forehead creasing at the small digs his younger sibling kept giving him.

"Whatever Levi, do what you want. However it doesn't mean I'll be happy with you." She finally warned, giving the short man a little shove towards you who had begun ordering their ice cream.

Now that his mood had been ruined, he grumpily made his way towards, brushing himself off from every inch.

As you began to laugh from something Connie had said, his heart began to skip. Cheezie of him to think, but your laugh truly was the most adorable thing he had ever heard in his life. It up lifted his mood faster than light.

With one last final mental pep talk, he excused himself from cutting in front of the large friend group, making quick conversation with a few and butting into yours in particular.

"I'm so glad most guys don't ask for numbers. I don't think I'd know how to react. It's a bit awkward now a days to ask for a number. The sucky part about it is, if he doesn't ask for your number then you automatically know he doesn't want anything serious, and I'm just not that type of person. Ya know?" You had been talking, answering a silly question that Ymir had asked once she saw the amount of guys that had been taking quick glances at you.

When Ymir noticed Levi standing behind you, a shit eating smirk adorned her face, arms folding over her chest and her finger giving a quick point.

"What?" Your face furrowed in confusion, whipping around to come face to face with the attractive man. The blood that rushed to your face out of embarrassment was unmatched. "Oh fuck, hello!"

– "Hello." He chuckled quickly adding on to have a conversation with you. "I'm Levi, Mikasa's brother. I figured I'd do my rounds introducing myself to everyone. Not that I planned on it. I just saw her with you guys and thought I'd come say hello. Everyone was around when I spoke to her except you two. Didn't want to leave you guys out."

– "Mhm. Is that so?"

An amused look shone in your eyes, a small giggle wanting to force its way out of your throat. He was a bit awkward with it, yet it was cute in it's on way.

– Indeed. Might I catch your name?

– Y/n L/n. Everyone calls me Y/n/n though.

– Noted. So tell me about yourself?

– Well, I'm a (Your major) student. I plan on becoming a (profession).

– Interesting, I'm studying to become a lawyer. So far I have two years of studying left. I wish you luck in yours.

– Must be hard, but yes, you as well! It was nice meeting you!

– It was nice meeting you as well Y/n.

You were practically melting inside, your attention completely on him as he had slowly began to walk away. Yumir was the one who pointed out your ice cream had been dripping down your hand to your arm from not having eaten any yet from being in la la land with Levi.

This caused you to frantically grab napkins and clean yourself up, your friends giggling at you. When you were suddenly being helped by another pair of hands, a pair you recognized but didn't at the same time until your gaze shifted up. Nose inches away from Levi's.

"By the way. I forgot to ask. Can I get your number?" His steel eyes glimmered, knowing full well you weren't going to say no.

"Depends. How old are you?" You shot back now being all cleaned up with his help, heart absolutely feeling as though it was going to jump out of your chest.

"I'm twenty-three. You?"

"Nineteen. Too young?"

"Pushing it."

A row of giggles spewed out, not being able to be held down any longer. You had to admit, he was pretty smooth with it, it probably ran in the Ackerman genes. Gingerly you passed him your phone and he added his number in your contacts, fingers brushing up against yours as he handed it back. "Your ice cream, it's melting again.." He droned out, shaking his head to grab some more napkins and help you out. Not leaving until he tucked a strand of h/c behind your ear.

– We thought you said you were glad guys don't ask for numbers, Y/n/n. Everyone in unison laughed

– Oh shut the fuck up, this is an exception.

– An exception who just so happens to be my older brother. Mikasa finally teased.

It was a nice day. Amazing even. A day you'd never regret skipping studying for.

#levi aot #levi ackerman #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #mikasa ackerman #eren yeager

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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year

Note

Gavi in love with an author or astrophysicist?

A/N: Welcome back to another installment of boot on the bus!! Because of the F1 kick I’ve been on, it took everything in me not to change this to an engineer :,) so we went with author

“Thank you so much for joining us! We at Blaugrana Publishing are delighted to welcome y/n, author of the NYT best-selling series “Instinctual”, to unveil her newest work.”

A loud, thunderous applause filled the hall, as 200 people cheered while you waved back, placing your hands on your chest to express the immense gratitude you felt for everyone that had supported your book.

You had started your debut novel “Instinctual” when you were in college, eager to turn all of your experiences into inspiration for a doomed love between a headstrong physics girl and and an idiotic business boy, who didn’t realize what he had until she had slipped between his fingers. Your publisher has taken a huge risk on you, but had backed you regardless to support ‘budding local talent’. The booktokers instantly fell in love with toxic, spicy romance that you weaved in your pages, which gave the publishers enough confidence for you to continue writing your series.

You had decided that your protagonists next love interest was going to be a footballer, prompting you to start researching footballers, watching interviews, and just learning their general mannerisms. Your publishing group had gotten you a media pass to La Masía, allowing your to interview players and watch games to get a full character study. You had every intention of making this footballer an ass - someone who would use your protagonist when convenient and abandon her for the “love of the game” when the time came.

Sitting in the stands of a La Masía match against the Sevilla football academy, you were hurriedly scribbling notes into the pages of your journal, taking in the sights, sounds, and interview responses from the players to get a full picture. You registered when someone had sat down next to you, but made no motion to look up or acknowledge their presence. About 15 minutes into the game, the person beside you tapped your shoulder. Looking up at him, your eyes met his honey ones, bright in the afternoon sun. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before.

“Sorry, if you’re going to spend the game doing homework, do you mind switching with my friend sitting behind you? We want to watch the match.”

The question had thrown you off guard. You looked the teenage boy up and down, unimpressed by his laid back demeanor. He and his friend beside him had spent the entire game muttering in hushed, angry tones. You didn’t see why they needed to add a third commentator.

“Sorry, but I’m taking notes of the game for my book. If your friend wanted my seat, he should have bought this ticket.”

“We never buy tickets for La Masía games.” He responded, sounding genuinely surprised by your suggestion. His friend beside him nodded.

“Then how did you three get in? Did you hop the fence?”

“No, we used to train here.And even if we didn’t- they always let the first team players in for free. ” The boy responded, eyes flicking between you and the game on the field.

Your eyes widened - you had struck gold. Actual first team, professional footballers to help you with your book. The excitement flooded your brain, and you spoke faster than you could think.

“Could I get your number?”

The three boys all turned to you, the one beside you confused, the other two holding back giggles.

“Usually don’t give my number to fans. Sorry.”

“I literally have no idea who you are.”

This statement made the two observers burst out laughing, unable to contain their mirth at what had just transpired between you two. The boys introduced themselves as Gavi, Ansu, and Alenjandro. Gavi begrudgingly accepted handing over his number, taunts from his friends heard for the remainder of the match about how was “still unknown” and living in someone named Pedri’s shadow.

Over the next several weeks, you messaged Gavi almost daily while writing, asking him about football, his personal life, the team dynamics - everything.

“Do fans give you their numbers often?” You asked, phone held up to your ear with your shoulder as you typed vigorously.

“Yeah, more often than not. Sometimes they’ll throw it into Pedri’s car as we drive home. Actually, there was this one time I was doing a signing at the team store and this girl slipped me her number. I didn’t want to embarrass her so I just took it and held onto it. There’s a video everywhere of it happening. Apparently I have amazing rizz?”

You laughed into the phone, taking a break from typing just to imagine Gavi, awkwardly accepting a paper slip, being turned into the master of getting girls. It had become a routine for you to call Gavi in the evenings, usually to ask about the character. But at some point it just morphed into calls about your days, your lives, your frustrations. It went on like this for two months. One evening, as you sat jotting down title ideas, you asked Gavi:

“Can I ask you something kinda personal?”

A pause.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Where would you take a girl out on a date?”

There was silence on the other side of the line for so long you had to make sure the call didn’t drop. After this long pause, he cleared his throat and said, “Well, how much do I like her?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well like if it’s a girl I found on instagram and I just think she’s pretty, then she’s meeting me at whatever club I’m going to with the boys. But if I’ve known her for a while and I like her, then it’s different. There’s this one kind of whole in the wall place near the stadium, it’s just- actually wait. What are you doing tonight?”

“Huh?”

“What’re you doing tonight? If you’re free, I can just show you rather than try and describe.”

You froze momentarily. You had noticed the dynamic shifting between you and Gavi, but that was just phone banter- nothing serious, nothing real. What he was proposing (a date) would shift the paradigm of the two of you more than you were ready for. But still, something within you was intrigued. Gavi was handsome - no questioning that - and there was something about him that drew you in, like a warm fire on a cold day.

“I’m… not doing anything. I’d love to go see it.”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the address and we can meet there at 8?”

Yes you had initially wanted to make your footballer dark and sinister like all the men you’ve known in your life. But sitting across that table, looking at Gavi, listening to him speak about his love, his passion, the future he wanted - you couldn’t do it. This man was softened butter on the inside, shy and courteous, like the boys in 50s movies. He walked you back to your place like a true gentleman, holding your hand at your door, and professing, confidently with some slight stuttering, that he thought you were beautiful, and wanted to be more than just your friend.

That was the night that changed your writing (and life) forever, for the better. Your second book, “Enticement”, was even better than the first, this time awarding you critical acclaim for your ability to “provide humanity to a callous character, creating compelling and layered people”. Your final book in the trilogy, “Enraptured”, won you a YA book of the year award, as it told a compelling love story where two young lovers could break down each others walls and love them at their cores. Your protagonist and her footballer lover were praised for how “real, honest, raw, and romantic” their relationship was. That was all thanks to Gavi. He taught you so many new forms of love and ways to express it - like someone seeing color for the first time. He showed you how to weather storms together, build each other up, and ground one another when everything seemed to crumble.

“Before we get onto talking about your upcoming work, we have a few questions from the audience.”

You answered questions about your thought process and your world building, encouraging all the young writers in the room to give it their best shot. The last question arrived, and a young girl in round glasses approached the microphone.

“Hi I’m Valeria. First of all I really love your book. I just wanted to ask about the final couple, Maria and Xavier. A lot of your book seems so realistic, except for the way Xavier acts. He’s almost too perfect, like he’s not like any man I’ve ever seen in real life before. So I just wanted to ask: do you know any men in real life that are like Xavier?”

The crowd erupted in cheers at the question, and you laughed to yourself. You looked off to the side of the stage, where Gavi stood leaning against the wall. He smiled widely, winking at you.

“You know, I used to think men like that didn’t exist either. But then I found him, doing something I’ve never done in my life - watching a football game. So don’t lose hope that your Xavier is out there. He might be climbing a mountain or buried under booms in a library or by the side of the road with a busted car. You might find him in the oddest of places, but he’s out there. And when you find him, he’s going to turn your world upside down, and bring you joy you didn’t know was possible. Because mine has.”

~~~

I always wanna say more but that’s the end of the bus ride and the end of the Drabble. Almost iftar time!!

#gavisuntiedboot #gavisuntiedbootasks #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x reader #gavi #gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x you #fc barca #gavi imagine #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi fanfiction #pablo gavi one shot #gavi one shot

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whiskey-bumblebee · 5 months

Text

I'm On Fire (Chapter 8)

Pairing: DBF!Aaron Hotchner/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: the final chapter! finally! thank you everybody for encouraging me to lead the story to an ending I'm more satisfied with.

Warnings: Age gap relationship (older Hotch, younger reader), arguments, deaths of Haley and Jack, breaking and entering

Taglist: @littlepeanut03 @rosaline-black @moonmark98 @yuly @jazzymariexoxoc @frogoko @morgthemagpie @laisy @whoreforhondo @ssamorganhotchner @lex13cm @mrs-ssa-hotch @violetlilites @fairy-alix @mercurysrhapsody @art-and-thoughts @rousethemouse

Five years later

You trace your fingers over the spines of the books.

340.2, 340.54, 340.57... There it is. 340.570942 D07. You slot 340.570942 S04 into the gap to the right of D07. Considering you were surrounded by millions of words, it was incredible how much time you spent counting.

One of your colleagues knocks on the shelf to attract your attention, and offers you a smile.

"You're finished for the day. Have a good weekend."

You sigh with relief. "The weekend... What a wonderful word."

"Do you have any plans?"

You shake your head. "Do you?"

"I'm working," She replies. "Someone has to help the grad students find their books on the history of the cultivation of garlic."

"Really?" You laugh, careful to keep your voice low. Although the library isn't crowded, there are always at least a few students studying down in the stacks.

"Yeah. History of the cultivation of garlic. We did have something on it, but damn, I don't know how you can write a thesis on growing garlic."

You smile and shake your head. "I was seeing someone for a while, a PhD candidate from NYU. His research focus was feminist machinima and the phenomenology of the cyborg body. He was just stringing words together, and I think he didn't like that I could see that."

"God. It sounds like you dodged a bullet."

The word bullet takes you out of it for a second. You stare into space, trying to consider the word from each of its angles. Dodged a bullet. Your father hadn't. Had you?

"You okay?"

You nod. "Yeah. Just thinking about him." You're careful not to specify exactly which him you're talking about.

"Forget about him. Go home. Have fun."

"Okay," You breathe, running your hands over your jeans. "I'll see you Monday."

She nods, patting your shoulder.

After a quick stint on the M and the L, you're home. Your keys clink as you drop them into the bowl by the door, and the smooth wooden floor is cool under your socks.

There's soup on the stove, and to your delight, it's still hot.

____________________________________

Aaron is fucking horrified. He doesn't know what he's doing. He can hardly breathe, but then again, that's becoming normal for him. For the first time since the trial, he feels like a criminal. He feels like the kind of person he's usually trying to catch.

"What the fuck," He breathes, and his words leave a fog that hangs in the air for a second, as if reprimanding his language.

He presses the buzzer before he can change his mind. Number five. How long should he hold the button? He releases it quickly, not wanting to generate a buzz any longer than necessary. He notices that there's no camera in the buzzer.

"Hello?"

It's a man's voice, and Aaron thinks he must have the wrong apartment.

"Hello, sorry, is this number five-" He rattles off the address, pressing his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat.

"Yeah, that's us."

Us?

Aaron says your name into the buzzer, and tries to ignore that it's the first time he's ever said the whole thing out loud. "I'm trying to find her?"

There's some rustling, and an exchange Aaron can't quite make out.

"Who are you?" The man on the other end of the line says.

_____________________________________

You've moved to stand next to the phone so you can hear. Andrew holds the phone tenderly between your two heads.

"My name is Aaron Hotchner-"

You shake your head quickly. No. No, no, no. You've just started your new life. You're happy. You're stable. You have a therapist who's walked you through this possibility, although she told you it was incredibly unlikely.

You walk backwards until your back hits a wall, and you slide to the floor.

"No," You whisper.

"Sorry, man. She's not at this address."

__________________________________________

Aaron knows that's not true. Penelope had found water bills paid in your name for this apartment, just three weeks ago. There was no record of you moving.

"Look, I really need to get ahold of her, if there's any chance- Could I just, could you let me talk to her?"

He's pleading now, and it leaves a pit in his stomach. He's no better than a stalker.

"Aaron," You breathe.

All of the tension drops from his shoulders at that. He says your name back to you.

"Please leave. I don't know how you got this address, but-"

"Please, I need to tell you something. Haley's dead, and-"

"I'm sorry, Aaron, but that has nothing to do with me."

Your reply comes without hesitation.

No, Aaron thinks. He didn't take the time off work, fly all the way to New York in a snowstorm, just to get blown off at your doorway.

Aaron is so caught up in staring at the buzzer, this tiny box containing you, that his heart leaps when he hears the door click open, and he turns quickly on his heel, ready to pour his heart out. The words dry up on his tongue when he sees it's not you, but a man. Long-haired, shorter than Aaron. He looks like someone Sean would be friends with. Aaron thinks he probably shouldn't ask about that.

"Hey, man. Get outta here. She doesn't wanna see you."

"Who are you?"

The words pass Aaron's lips before he can catch them.

"I'm Andrew. Now fuck off before I call the cops."

"I need to see her."

"She's currently sitting on the floor crying just from hearing your name. If you'd seen her reaction, you wouldn't let yourself up there either."

Aaron notices that Andrew has left the front door open, just a crack. If he makes a break for it, he might make it through the door, up the stairs, before Andrew can catch him.

"Alright," Aaron sighs, letting his body slump. "I tried."

Andrew softens slightly. "Alright, man. Get-"

Before Hotch hears the end of Andrew's sentence, he slams the man up against the wall and pushes the main door open. He doesn't immediately see an elevator, so he sprints up the stairs, two at a time.

He yells your name when he sees the number five, and pounds his fists on the door. If he had to break all of the bones in his hands in order to get to you, he'd do it. He can hear Andrew coming up behind him, slow, disoriented.

There's no reply. An elderly woman steps out of number six and frowns at Aaron disapprovingly, then sees Andrew coming up behind him.

"Sorry, Elena," Andrew says.

"Andrew," Elena scolds, walking over to him in her slippers. "What's this?" She tilts her head to the side as she looks at his split eyebrow.

Andrew sighs as the older woman gently runs her hands over his face.

"Hotchner, get the fuck out of here," He breathes. "Elena, I'm fine. But if this guy lays his hands on me again, I want you to call the cops."

Elena's eyes widen. "Okay."

Hotch kicks the door down.

You jump at the sudden intrusion, and Andrew was telling the truth, you are sitting on the floor, your eyes glistening.

"Elena, call the police," Andrew hisses, before grabbing Aaron by the collar. "What the fuck are you doing, man? Have you lost your mind?"

Aaron easily brushes him off and squats down beside you.

"Aaron, please go. It's over. You can't just barge back into my life like this."

"Please, let's just talk. If I ever meant anything to you, please just hear me out."

You look over at Andrew. Elena has gone back into her apartment, but you can hear her on the phone.

"Fine," You breathe. "Just for a minute, and then I never want to see you again."

Andrew starts to argue, but you shake your head and get to your feet. You know that once Aaron makes his mind up about something, there's no swaying him. Your stomach twists, thinking about yourself as a mission objective.

You take a seat on the couch, and Aaron stands. It's a small apartment, and he doesn't think sitting next to you would be the right move: too intimate, too familiar. Andrew takes the spot beside you while Aaron's still thinking about it.

You pick up a paper towel from the small coffee table, and dab at Andrew's eyebrow. It doesn't look that bad. You remember one of the anatomy manuals that you'd read while the library wasn't busy, how it said that facial wounds bleed a lot because the skin is thin.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, quietly.

Andrew nods. Aaron rolls his eyes.

"Say your piece," You say, still focused on Andrew. You tip his chin from side to side, checking for any other injuries. His eyes are sharp, focused. Good.

Now that he's here, Aaron doesn't know what to say. He can't even imagine where to start.

"Haley..."

"How did she die?"

"There was an unsub, he broke into my house, he killed them."

Them? Your heart drops.

"Jack?"

Aaron nods.

Your frown deepens.

"Who's Jack?" Andrew asks.

"Long story," You sigh. "I'll tell you later."

"I'm sorry, Hotch, but what does this have to do with me?"

"She was the reason... She was the reason we couldn't stay together. I was scared, fucking terrified, that she had some evidence, something that would get me locked in prison forever-"

Andrew gently tucks your hands back at your sides so he can look at Aaron.

"I think that we have more than enough to get you locked in prison, pal. Assault, breaking and entering?"

You nod, agreeing. "I don't know what you're trying to do here, Aaron. I've moved on. I've spent years trying to forget you."

Andrew looks at you, clearly needing more information than what you've provided. Aaron's curious what you'll say first. This is my ex-lover? I defended him in court and saved him from a lifetime in prison? This is the love of my life? This is the guy I told you about?

"He killed my father."

That's not what Aaron was expecting.

"What the fuck," Andrew breathes. "Dude, you've gotta get out of here, seriously-"

You shake your head. "He was acquitted."

Andrew looks at you, confused.

Aaron is so quick to jump to your defence that he doesn't take a second to think of the implications.

"I did it," He says quickly. "She's right."

Andrew stands up and takes a deep breath, preparing to tear into Aaron. He's puffing up his chest like some kind of exotic bird, and you know that if it came down to it, he couldn't take Aaron in a fight. You're not sure how exactly Andrew came to be injured, but you don't doubt that Aaron had a hand in it.

"Andrew," You say quietly. "Calm down."

He looks at you with sympathy, but there's an uneasiness in his eyes like that of an unbroken horse.

"Respectfully, you just told me that the man who just broke into our apartment murdered your father. This is all the calm I can give you."

"Valid," You reply. "Okay, so, Aaron? What are you doing here?"

Aaron realizes his grand plan is starting to come apart at the seams. He had a speech, he had a plan, he has a second flight back to D.C. booked and ready, but he hadn't anticipated Andrew. How had Penelope missed that detail?

"NYPD, open-"

A police officer raises his hand to knock, and seeing there's no door, steps into your apartment, careful not to trip over the doorknob.

"What's going on here? We had a call from a concerned neighbor."

You look at Aaron, and then at Andrew, and then at the police officer.

"We had a break in-"

"Everything's fine-"

"I'm an FBI agent-"

The officer holds up a hand. "One at a time. Let's start with, why is your door on the ground?"

Andrew shoots a look at Aaron. The officer notices, and when Andrew turns back to the police officer, he takes in the cut on Andrew's face for the first time.

"Did someone hit you?"

"He did." Andrew points at Hotch.

"And who kicked the door in?"

"He did," Andrew repeats, repeating his gesture for good measure.

"So what's the problem?"

Andrew looks at you, encouraging you to tell the story of the last ten minutes.

"Um," You say, looking around.

"Look, if everything's fine here, there are more important things I could be doing."

You nod and apologize quickly, then see the officer out. Elena comes out of her apartment and pokes her head through your doorway.

"Everything fine, Andrew?"

"Fine, Elena, thank you."

She doesn't look convinced, but she leaves anyway.

"Will one of you please tell me what the hell is going on here?" Andrew sighs, running a hand through his long hair.

"Aaron and I used to..." You trail off, unsure how to categorize it. The case is still recent enough that Andrew could easily find news coverage online, and if you say something that contradicts your sworn statements, you don't doubt that Andrew would do anything to get Aaron in trouble.

"Date," Aaron finishes.

You shake your head, offended by his choice of words. "Not 'date'. We never went out anywhere."

"We went out for coffee-" Aaron argues.

"A fast food drive through doesn't count," You rebut.

"You wore a wedding ring for me."

"It was the ring from your marriage to your wife."

"Ex-wife," Aaron hisses.

"Widow."

Aaron looks taken aback at that. A piece of information you'd only learned a few minutes ago, and already you'd hafted it into a weapon.

Andrew holds up a hand and looks at Hotch.

"Wait, you were married?"

You nod. "Haley was his wife." You turn to Aaron. "I'm sorry. She was a lovely person."

"She wasn't," Aaron says quickly.

"Your wife died, so you came to New York to take back your old mistress?"

"She wasn't-" Aaron starts, but he's quickly interrupted.

"Mistress!" You say, louder than you meant to, astounded at his choice of words.

Andrew shakes his head, then stands up. He walks over to the spot where you keep your house keys and plucks them out of the bowl.

"I'm going for a walk. You guys, talk."

You're a moment too slow in covering your mouth and Andrew hears you laugh.

"What?"

You gesture at the keys, then at the broken-down door.

"You don't need the keys."

Andrew puts the keys back down and walks out, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry. I'll pay for the door," Aaron says.

You rest your head in your hands, and like your shadow, Aaron follows your movement. He's beside you instantly, a large hand smoothing over your back.

"You know how fucked up it is that I don't even know how to explain you to Andrew?"

"How about you explain Andrew to me?"

That makes you slip Aaron's hand off your back and look at him, confounded.

"What makes you think you have the right to come literally barging back into my life, and then question me about why there's a man in it?"

"You're right, I'm sorry," Aaron breathes, leaning back.

You take a deep breath, fighting all of your instincts not to confess to Aaron that Andrew was great, but he wasn't Aaron, that nobody could ever be him.

"So why did you come here?"

"I thought maybe you'd be waiting for me."

"There's no way we could have worked out. You work with the FBI, for god's sake, you think none of your agents would figure out that you are actually dating the person that you testified under oath, that you had never really met?"

"I don't know. I wasn't thinking. The whole time that we were together, we were always thinking, planning, strategizing. For once, I just wanted to do something without having to have a battle plan behind it."

"I'm happy here," You say, quietly. "I have a stable job, and I like my coworkers, and we have a great apartment in a great location. I'm starting to make friends. I have a partner who loves me and treats me like an equal, not like..."

"A mistress."

You bite your lip. Aaron looks at you.

"What happened?"

"There was an unsub who was stalking me. He killed Haley and Jack while I was away working on a different case. It was about a year ago."

A deep frown pulls at your mouth.

"Jack was only..."

"He was about to turn four."

"Oh my god," You breathe. "Aaron, I'm so sorry."

Aaron shakes his head. "It was terrible, and I miss him so much. But while I was doing everything, going to grief counselling, planning the funerals... I just kept thinking maybe this was meant to be our second chance."

"You got a second chance. That doesn't mean I have to be a part of it."

"There's nobody else who I'd want to be a part of it."

You turn to face Aaron and take his face in your hand. He turns his face in towards your palm, closing his eyes. His eyelashes are as long and dark as ever, even now that his temples are beginning to grey.

"We could move to Rehoboth Beach. Just you and me. I could work as a lawyer, and you could..."

You shake your head. "You don't even know me. You don't know what I do for work. You don't know what I want."

"That's not fair," Aaron says, his voice taking on a darker tone. "We both know what you want."

You look into his eyes for a long moment.

"So you're trying to tell me that you chose wrong? After I gave you every opportunity to leave her?"

Aaron takes your hand from his face and places it gently back in your lap.

"If you tell me that you don't want me, I'll go. I'll go back to Washington and I'll never contact you again. I'll ask that you do the same. But if there's any part of you that wants me, that's thinking about it... Leave him. He deserves better than being your second choice for the rest of his life."

You glance at the clock on the microwave. Andrew's only been gone for five minutes, and Aaron's been back in your life for less than an hour. You shouldn't be thinking about this. You definitely shouldn't be thinking about the fact that when Andrew goes out for walks, he usually walks past Tompkins Square Park, down to the East River, and it takes him at least twenty-five minutes, which means that if you wanted to, hypothetically, you'd have enough time to-

You kiss Aaron.

He's surprised, but he wraps an arm around you, slowly, like he's not sure if he has the right to.

You press your tongue into his mouth first, flicking the tip of it over his tongue, inviting him to do the same. He takes a deep breath through his nose and pulls you closer. You fall into his lap easily, and his hand slips under your the back of your shirt.

He pulls back slightly and breathes heavily. You do too, but you don't let him stop kissing you. His lips move against yours, and then he bites your lower lip. He still knows you like it. You press down against him.

Aaron breaks the kiss first, and looks around for the door to your bedroom. You can see the moment he realizes that he's in another man's apartment. If he were to take you to the bedroom, he'd be laying you down in another man's bed.

He withdraws completely, pulling his hands from your skin carefully, like he's testing if he'll stick to you.

You look over at the front door, and see Andrew standing there. He only went as far as Tompkins.

Aaron doesn't realize that you're staring at something, someone, that you're frozen in place. He kisses your neck. You don't try to stop him, realizing that Andrew has seen more than enough already. You can't lie your way out of this one.

"Wow. Okay."

Aaron's head whips to the left so quickly that you're worried for his neck. He looks at you, lost for words.

You were going to use the kiss to make up your mind, but now that you're looking at Andrew, the soft press of Aaron's lips seems completely irrelevant. You can't do this to him. You like Andrew. He's nice. You have a good thing with him.

It's with a sudden dread that you realize, now that Andrew's seen you, he has a decision to make too, one that will make your choice for you. Just like that, you've lost all of your agency because of Aaron. Again.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Andrew..."

He shakes his head. "I'm not going to compete. If you want me, want me. I'm just saying it's got to count for something that you were alone with him for a second and-" He gestures to you and Aaron.

Aaron bristles at that, and sensing something like a competition, Andrew holds up his hands. "That's it, then."

You frown at Aaron. This is not how you anticipated tonight going.

"Aaron, get out."

Aaron looks shocked, but when you move from his lap, he stands up and walks out without arguing.

"Andrew," You sigh.

He wraps his arms around you.

"Sucks about our door, huh?"

You huff a laugh. "He'll pay for it."

_______________________________

I love you, and I'll always love the memories we have together, but it just wouldn't have worked out. Thank you for understanding. Please give me privacy and let me move on with my life.

You hesitate, and hesitate, and hesitate, then finally press send and relax into the shoulder of the man beside you. His scent is warm and familiar. He wraps an arm around you casually. When you look up into his eyes, you know that you couldn't have made any other choice. This is Aaron. Your Aaron. He smiles.

THE END

#i'm on fire #my writing #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch/reader #criminal minds #hotch #fanfic #fanfiction

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zombiedumbie · 9 months

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00. TIME MOVES SLOW WHEN YOU'RE ALL ALONE, AND TIMES MOVES SLOW;

I've been thinking about writing a fanfic after reading this one (btw this is a recommendation). it would be basically the opposite: I have a headcannon that Law would be considerably rich due to his family of doctors. So, the person who would live in all the luxury would be our dear aspiring doctor. Added a touch of drama 'cause I love a little pain.

This is just one chapter because I wanted to know if you guys like the idea, so if you'd like me to continue, please let me know.

2302 words.

modern au, she/her reader, use of "y/n", angst (?), law is 22, grief, implicit and explicit drug use, swearing, post-traumatic stress. mdni!

Grief is a complex set of emotions that humans deal with after the loss of something fundamentally important to them. Grief isn't always triggered solely by death, but also, as mentioned earlier, by the painful farewell to something significant. Today, it is understood that grief has 7 stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance; not necessarily faced in that order.

However, when grief stops being a loss and turns into a disease, it's called pathological grief.

In this way, Trafalgar D. Water Law has lived the last 12 years of his life.

Law was sprawled on the bed of god-knows-who, with his shirt unbuttoned and his head spinning. The noise he could hear was his heavy breathing, as if his ears were inside his dry throat, while his eyes moved agonizingly slowly around the unfamiliar room.

The memories of how he got there or what was happening had long escaped his mind, but he was certain of one thing: He needed water, and perhaps a shower. Maybe he should call Rosinante, despite promising him that he wouldn't do it again.

Determined to reach the kitchen, Law dragged himself out of bed, his feet hitting the floor as steadily as he could manage — which wasn't much. He was almost halfway there when he stumbled over a blazer and fell to the ground like a bag of bones, shaking the room.

He began to mutter, wondering who would leave a blazer in the middle of the room like that. The blazer was his. The door creaked open with a muffled sound due to the music, and Law felt someone touch his back.

"Damn, I thought someone was having a pretty hardcore fuck here", the voice was familiar, Law looked up to see who it was. "I was going to ask to join, but it was just you", Sabo smiled, looking at Law with that same psychopathic smile as usual.

Sabo was one of those boys whose parents always warned to stay away from, as he could become a criminal or an addict in the future. However, as he grew up, Sabo silenced everyone when he was accepted into one of the best universities in the country, becoming one of the smartest people anyone had ever seen around him; even though he often seemed to hate it all. In the end, he settled for studying International Relations at the state's best college, against everyone's wishes and only following his own reasoning.

However, he still acted like a crazy fuck. And that's why he understood the whole situation when he saw Law's red eyes. "Damn, that was strong, huh?", he helped Law to his feet.

"F-Fuck off", Law groaned as he stood up, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment from his deplorable situation. "I-I want water", the words came out unconsciously, as if his body was speaking for him.

Sabo laughed, helping him walk out of the room. "Come with me, I'll help you", the blonde shouted over the music. They practically stumbled down the stairs to the ground floor.

The silver decorations and the low light of the place, combined with the loud music and the large number of people there, made Law even dizzier. The only thing he could look at to help his mental confusion was the huge glass window that overlooked a large and well-maintained garden, which, unfortunately, was filled with people here and there.

Sabo guided them to a corridor beside the stairs. The corridor seemed to stretch and then shrink several times as they walked to the door at the end, which Sabo pushed slowly before entering with Law.

It was the kitchen that Law had longed to reach in the last 3 minutes. The light was bright compared to the rest of the party; there were some waiters hired for the night, along with some people Law had seen around.

The kitchen was filled with the most expensive appliances. The stove had so many burners it looked ridiculous, the refrigerator seemed as wide and tall as a cabinet, and all the utensils were neatly arranged, highly polished and gleaming. Not to mention the extensive marble countertops and the golden details in the corners of each piece of furniture; there was also a long glass wall that displayed the image of the distant nighttime city, as bright as day due to its ever-lit lights, divided by the scenery of a quiet beach.

Given the attention to detail in this kitchen, it was possible that whoever the owner of this house was, they never had to set foot in this kitchen.

"Oi, Sabo", Kid spoke. Kid was a red-haired guy with painted nails and lipstick on his lips, holding a blunt between his fingers and blowing smoke through his teeth. He was dressed in the rest of his waiter outfit, his apron now tucked into the back pocket of his pants and his black dress shirt open.

"Who's this guy?", Kid, another one of the waiters, asked, watching Sabo lean Law against the wall next to the door. "Damn, he's messed up, huh?", he said as he saw the man bow his head.

Law was pitifully leaning against the wall, slightly leaning forward, head down, and too weak to move his hanging arms. His vision was a blur of his tattooed arms covered with a lazily rolled-up white dress shirt on his elbows and his shoes now dirty from who-knows-what.

Sabo laughed. "Go easy on him, he's new to this stuff", Law wanted to protest, but his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. Sabo left his blazer on the counter and opened the refrigerator for water.

Maybe he was too high, but he still felt a gaze burning his skin. He slowly turned his head to look at a girl sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, wearing a waiter outfit similar to the others', now looser; and it was her who now held Kid's blunt.

The girl looked him up and down as she brought the cigarette between her index and thumb to her lips, there was a certain pity in her eyes, but Law chose to ignore it, no matter how irresistible her figure might be.

"His name is Law", Sabo added, handing him a glass of water.

"No way!", Kid said, laughing. "The Trafalgar Law? Man, you're like Batman!", Law grunted.

"Shut up, Kid. Are you eating shit or what?", the girl on the floor said, scolding Kid.

"No parents and being taken care of by a guardian? Sounds like Batman indeed", Law mumbled with difficulty, receiving the glass of water from Sabo.

The atmosphere in the kitchen grew heavy. Everyone remembered the Trafalgar accident; it was news for a few days, and the only survivor was the eldest son, Trafalgar Law. Post-traumatic stress kept him at home for a few years, where he dedicated himself to studying to continue his parents' legacy. But here he was, incredibly high for the first time.

It had been a series of unfortunate events that led him to that party that day.

But, in short, he wanted to experience a little of what he had missed due to his years at home.

Law banged the glass on the counter in front of him; he felt like he should say some things to this Kid guy, but his head was so confused that he felt, for a moment, like he was somewhere else. "Go... fuck yourself...!", Kid seemed to turn as red as his hair, but Sabo immediately cut both of them off with a laugh.

"You're even funnier like this, Torao!", a voice came from the other side of the kitchen along with a laugh. It was Luffy, one of Law's "friends," a title he didn't really want to call him. "You should get high more often", Luffy tapped his back a few times.

Trafalgar, already annoyed at being so high and also by Kid's well-thought-out comment, seemed to get more irritated by Luffy's presence, who was laughing too loudly for his taste. He pushed himself off the counter and walked awkwardly to the kitchen door, struggling a bit to open it due to its weight, and then staggered down the corridor.

The man staggered, getting lost in the huge house, with no idea what he was doing. The suffocating feeling of not being in control made him want to cry; he felt like he was sleeping, in a senseless, noisy dream. It was too hot, too stuffy, too noisy, too crowded. Moments passed like blurred flashes, too confusing to decipher; until he seemed to "wake up" from his dream.

Law was lying on something soft. He felt a cold breeze hit his body like an uncomfortable embrace. When he finally opened his eyes, the night sky was painted before him, he could hear the sound of the music more clearly now, though a bit more distant compared to the waves of the beach, and amidst the electronic rhythm and the crashing waves, a voice seemed to speak to him.

"I hate working for these spoiled brats, they all think I'm their damn housekeeper and should do whatever they tell me", Law turned his head to see who was talking, finding the same girl from the kitchen, sitting cross-legged with her back to him in the sand, smoking a cigarette angrily. "Damn, I'm here just to serve drinks, not to make the porridge that your housekeeper makes every night before bed!", Law ran his fingers through the sand, feeling the fine grains caress his palm. He heard her venting, but he didn't understand a single word.

She turned around and looked him deep in the eyes before speaking: "You woke up, finally. How do you feel?", she smiled.

"Like I've been run over", he was honest. He still felt out of it, but conscious enough to know what he was doing.

"Huh, wait until tomorrow", she said as Law sat up. He now noticed that she was wearing his coat. "You asked me to call someone named Cora-san, but I couldn't find his contact on your phone", she reached out, handing the device to Law. "Sorry about that."

Law rubbed his eyes, confused. "What... What happened? Where's Sabo?"

"You don't remember, do you?", she smiled, and Law, fearing what he might have done during this blackout, blushed violently. "Don't worry", she laughed. "Sabo carried you to the kitchen to get some water, but then Kid started talking crap and Luffy started annoying you until you left the kitchen. Sabo was going after you, but... I think her name was Koala, she stopped him and started arguing with him. I found you sitting on a couch next to the bathroom...", she stopped, pondering whether she should continue.

Law raised an eyebrow.

"You... were crying. Like, a lot. I brought you some water, but you said you didn't want to drink anymore, and then you started talking...", she sighed. "Anyway, you asked me to call this Cora-san and gave me your phone, and then you said you wanted some fresh air. I brought you here, and you ended up dozing off in the sand".

Law widened his eyes and cringed at the thought of what he might have told her. He didn't remember any of this, which made him want to disbelieve what he might have done, but since there was no other version of this gap in his mind, he just abstained.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone anything", she said when she saw his worried face.

"... Thank you", he said, grabbing his phone to check the time; it was almost dawn. He swallowed hard before unlocking the device.

He heard her chuckle softly and looked at the city on the horizon, finishing her cigarette. "Of course".

For some reason, his heart squeezed in his chest. That girl he didn't even know the name of had just helped him in a terrible moment of drunkenness for no reason, and as much as he could easily doubt her word, he trusted that she wouldn't tell anyone about his outburst.

His golden eyes fell on her again, watching her hair being carried by the cold morning breeze. The ever-present melancholy lingered in his mind as he dialed Rosinante's number on his phone; his finger hovered over the call button. "What's your name?".

She paused to think for a moment before answering. "Y/N", she turned her face towards him. The sun had just started to rise, and the sky was a bit brighter now.

He wanted to thank her for helping him, for being so kind to someone she barely knew, for caring enough to stay with him until he woke up; to say that he appreciated what she had done and apologize for causing trouble. But all that came out of his lips was: "Why did you help me?".

And all she replied was: "Because I wanted to."

He mentally slapped himself for sounding so ungrateful, he tried again to thank her, apologize, but she kept talking. "People don't always have a reason for doing what they do..." she seemed to notice the confusion in his eyes. "You were in a vulnerable moment, I couldn't leave you like that", and she gave one of the gentlest smiles Law had ever seen.

He swallowed hard as he remembered Rosinate.

"OOOOIIII, Y/N!", someone shouted in the background, she turned her head to see Kid calling her. "WE'RE LEAVING!!", she got up and brushed the sand off her clothes.

"COMING, JUST A MINUTE!!", she shouted back. "My ride's leaving. Nice to meet you, Law. Don't forget to call Cora-san", she took off the blazer to return it. "Call me if you need anything", then she turned and started running back towards the house, shoes in hand.

"Goodbye...", he said, but then he realized something. "I DON'T HAVE YOUR NUMBER!", he shouted, his eyes filled with the image of the girl now running away.

"YOU THINK!".

Law wanted to shout back, but something clicked in his mind. His fingers touched the screen of his phone to open the "Contacts" app, sliding his finger to find a new contact saved as "Y/N :p".

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #law one piece #one piece fanfic #law fanfic #one piece x you #law x reader #law x you #one piece angst #zombiedumbie writing

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dominimoonbeam · 6 months

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Totally Normal Meet Cute Script - Part 3

The final part to this absolutely normal meet cute story!

warning: it's not a normal meet cute... it's a slasher. you're in a slasher. good luck!

Performed by Jouska over on his youtube and his patreon!

Part 3 - It Always Ends at a Party

I absolutely agree, a house party is a bad idea.

But if we were going to go, we should go together, right? Safety in numbers.

Really, what would be safer, glasses, being the only two people staying home or being in a frat house packed to the rafters with other people?

[laughs] Okay, safe from a serial killer, obviously. Not safe from…everything else that can go wrong.

It’s not a fire hazard. It’s just a party!

I’m not saying that we should definitely go, I’m just saying that maybe we should think about going. It would be fun, and the last couple months have been… intense.

It’s not until next week anyway. You can think about it. Here, I’ll tack the flyer up on your corkboard right between this incredibly detailed list of goals for the year and… Is this an expired coupon for soft serve? Why do you still have this?

[laughs] You’re lactose intolerant!

I’m tossing the coupon.

What else do you have up here… I’m seeing a lot of sticky note reminders and take out menus…

I still have a half hour before my class starts. That’s plenty of time to get across campus.

It is for me… You should really reconsider coming out running with me in the morning. We can do a light jog! We’ll take it at your pace, just around the campus and back. You’ll love it, glasses. Okay, that’s a lie, you’re going to hate it, but I will let you complain the whole way and after we get back, you’re going to realize how much more awake you feel. It’ll change your whole day!

Really? [surprised] You’ll really give it a try?

Wait, are you agreeing to go running so you can turn down the party?

[laughs] I would take that deal, yeah… I’d much rather have you to myself in the morning than share you with a bunch of people at a loud party.

I’m not trying to charm you into anything!

That’s just flirting, glasses. I’m flirting with you.

[pause]

Wait… Did you not realize I’ve been flirting with you? Oh, glasses… Come on!

No, this isn’t a joke!

I’ve been sleeping in your bed for the last four nights!

[laughs] Extenuating circumstances?

Uh-huh… and what about when our study session turned into a make out session yesterday?

Are you blushing? Now? You weren’t blushing when you kissed me!

If we’re not dating, then we’re at least more than friends.

No? So, this is how all your friendships look?

I don’t know why you’re cramming all your books into that bag like you’re about to leave. This is your room and you just got back. I know your schedule, glasses. You have no more classes today. You even changed into your comfy clothes. Which you did right here in the room with me, by the way. I saw everything.

[laughs] Oh god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this red before…

So, you can kiss me, and sit in my lap, and snuggle up against me at night, so long as we never talk about it? Is that what’s going on here?

[closer, smiling] Am I like… your secret boyfriend? You know, I’d make great arm candy if you want to parade me around some. Like to, say, a party full of our peers?

[laughs] Okay! I’ll drop it for now. You can think about it. [kiss] I’m going to class. I’ll pick up dinner on my way back and then we can talk some more about how we’re definitely not a couple…

Glasses, why is my stuff in the hall? Are you throwing me out? I can’t tell because you folded everything so neatly…

Oh shit, you’re actually angry. Why?

Which dead girl?

What are you—

Oh.

Yeah… I mean, I met Casey a few times, but I didn’t know her.

What? Who have you been talking to?

I’m not lying to you! I… I slept with her a couple times freshman year. We were at some of the same parties and had some friends in common.

No, she was just using me to try to make one of my friends jealous. And that was fine because it’s not like I was hurt. We barely knew each other.

Why does it matter what friend?

[laughs unhappily] You don’t think I have friends?

Come on, glasses…

No, I stopped hanging out with them.

[raises voice] Because they were assholes! Because they made me feel like an asshole!

[pause]

[sighs] I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to yell.

Nothing happened. I just… I didn’t like myself or my life, and realizing that was rough. I bailed on everything I could. On clubs and on friends. I just, bailed, and no one fucking noticed.

[to himself] No one noticed. That’s the kind of friends I had.

Are…Are you seriously asking me that? I’m not using you. I was trying to get my life the way I wanted it and I just…I always had a crush on you and I decided to get to know you better.

Bullshit? Are you kidding? I’m telling you—

Just because you can’t see how amazing you are, doesn’t mean that I don’t! You care a lot about everything you do and everyone in your life.

No! I’m not trying to get you to fall for me just to make myself feel better. I can’t believe you’re—

[pause]

[confused] The guy from my building?

Okay, yeah, I did say I didn’t know him… I didn’t want to talk about it! So what if I did? I told you, I hadn’t talked to any of my old friends more than a few words for the last year. I never really knew them—

I didn’t know the couple! What the fuck are you even driving at?

You… [realization] Glasses, do you think I’m the killer?

Logical? No, it’s not! I was with you when we found those bodies! Do you think I’m some sort of deranged mastermind? You think I set it up like that? Why? To scare you into my arms? Oh my god, of course! And then I killed the guy in my building, somehow knowing that my dorm would be closed and I’d get to come knock on your door? If I’m this fucking brilliant, then why would I need you to be my partner for the final? Clearly, I’m a genius.

What?

[quieter] You don’t really think that. You’re upset about Casey and scared about the murders so you’re spinning out. No. No, if you thought I was planning to murder you, you wouldn’t fucking dump my shit outside and wait for me to come back to argue with you about it. You would have called the cops. Did you call the cops, glasses? No. Because you know I wouldn’t hurt you, or anyone else.

So what if I knew them? You probably would have too if you went to a party or joined a club, or just fucking looked up from your books!

No, of course I didn’t just make friends with you for the final project. You… You looked lonely. You looked lonely the way I felt lonely. And the more we talked, the more I liked you. That’s all. There’s nothing shady or murderous about it.

[pause]

[sad/tired sigh, annoyed] My building is open again, so I’ll move my stuff back to my room.

Fine, glasses. Have it your way. I’ll see you around.

[house party sounds, muffled music and background voices]

[surprised] Glasses? What are you doing here?

My roommate told you— You mean, you came to see me?

It’s been a few days… I didn’t think you wanted to talk.

[sighs] No, I’m sorry. I should have told you the whole truth, but I didn’t have anything to do with it. I barely knew them.

Glasses… Look at me. [softer] Look at me.

You know me. I would never hurt you. You know that, right?

You… [smiles] Yeah, I’d love to be your partner for the final.

Wait, did you come by yourself?

You shouldn’t have done that. The campus has a whole buddy system rule in place. [mock gasp] I can’t believe you broke a rule!

[smiling] So, you were counting on someone walking you home? I can definitely do that. You want a drink while we’re here?

Yeah, take mine. I’ll grab another. Do you want to meet some people? Or do you want to go hide in a corner and make out?

Yes, that’s exactly what happens at a party, glasses. Later we summon a demon with a Ouija board, but first we’re going to play spin the bottle and kiss some strangers… [laughs] I’m joking! About the Ouija board and the bottle. We’re still kissing strangers.

Ow! No hitting, we just made up!

Okay, stay put, I’ll be right back.

[party sounds]

[other voice, muffle from distance] What the hell is that?

[power going off, music cutting off, other voices rising in panic] Who did that? Turn the lights back on! It’s not funny! Someone—

[a scream, foot falls as everyone starts running]

Glasses!

Is that you? Oh, thank god. No, no, I don’t think that’s a prank…

[another muffled scream]

Come on!

Don’t let go of my hand. I think there was a closet over here…

[horror sounds (I’m so sorry audio creator)]

[opening the closet door and then closing it, muffling the sounds even more]

Shhh… It’s okay.

[breathing, sharp inhale]

[heavy footsteps walking slowly by outside, floorboards creaking, standing there, killer breathing hard in his mask, dramatic pause, walking away]

[exhale, still whispering] I think he left. It’s okay. We’re okay. We’ll just wait here until the police show up.

[nervous whisper laugh] I guess I did manage to get you in a closet even without spinning the bottle…

Did you see him through the crack in the door? Yeah. Yeah, he was huge. And that mask? What the fuck was that about? Did you recognize him?

I don’t know, glasses. I feel like if we knew a guy that size, we could recognize his build even with the mask on. There can’t be that many of them lumbering around campus…

What? No, I don’t smell anything… Oh shit.

Yeah, that’s smoke…

[muffled fire sounds]

[coughing] I don’t know. He could have started it, or it could just be a candle that got knocked over… Either way we need to get out of here.

We can’t just sit here and burn. Even if he’s waiting, we have to make a run for it.

Here. [keys jangling] Hang onto these. We’re going to bolt for my car. I parked along the woods, near the footpath.

You’re holding the keys in case… In case you get there first, glasses. Unlock the car, get in, lock it, and drive.

[laughed a little] I know you don’t have your license, but I know you can do it.

If a cop materializes just to arrest you, then at least you’ll be safe, right?

Right.

[coughing, fire crackling] No, if you get to the car first, don’t wait for me. I’m faster than you. If I’m not with you… Just don’t wait for me, okay? I’ll be there or I’ll find another way. He’s probably moved on by now anyway.

You can do this. You are the smartest, strongest person that I know. Just run and don’t look back.

Okay…

Three.

Two.

One.

[throwing open the door and running, fire sounds, footfalls, another door, muffled fire and the sound of the night] Go. Gogogo!

Keep going! I’m right behind you!

[running, gravel]

You see the car?

Yeah, just—

[reaching the car, fumbling the keys and opening the door]

[stops, silence]

[night sounds, muffled fire sounds, far away sirens, his pained groan somewhere close by]

[popping the trunk, gravel steps, pulling something metal from the trunk]

[speaker panting, fighting with the slasher]

[injured, surprised] Glasses? What are you—

No! Don’t come back. Just run!

[thwap as glasses hits the slasher]

Oh shit. Hell yes, hit him again!

[another thwap and someone thudding down]

[speaker panting, struggling to his feet, sirens getting closer]

You came back for me…

[coughing laugh] I think this is a little above and beyond for study buddies, glasses.

I got stabbed in the side trying to save you and you came back and fought a serial killer with my baseball bat, I think you can admit we’re more than just partners for the final.

[fire sounds. sirens]

Does this mean I get to move back into your dorm room?

[smiling] Yes, you can keep the bat.

[pained laughs] And you were right about the party being a bad idea… and a fire hazard.

[fire crackling, house falling apart sounds, cop cars skidding to a stop on the gravel]

Oh shit… Glasses… Where did he go?

He was right there. I didn’t even hear him get up.

Yeah, let’s get out of here. I think I might need that ambulance.

[think Halloween theme song fade out]

- Authors Note: I imagined this story as a meet cute going on in the background of a college campus slasher flick. In my head, the killer is primarily terrorizing someone else on campus and if it were a movie, Glasses and Dash would be background characters. When the killer vanishes at the end, he's probably loping off through the woods after his final girl to have that last battle before the credits roll.

And do I feel like an asshole for leaving instructions like "horror sounds" and "think Halloween theme song fade out"? Yes. I do.

Does Jouska somehow make that magic happen anyway? Yes, he does!

Will I learn to stop doing it? ...No.

#audio script #jouska #dominimoonbeam #slasher 101 #clover down #halloween #<3

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charlewiss · 2 years

Text

coffee shop / charles leclerc

I pictured this charles while writing it he seems so soft :(

masterlist

characters: barista! charles x student! reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: badly written lmao english is not my first language. also probably crappy ending?? idk hope you like it anyways (?? leave a comment!

summary: in which charles worked at his family's coffee shop and met a cute girl.

it was exam season, so it wasn't unusual to see the coffee shop where charles worked completely packed. the little place was strategically located next to the library, making it the perfect place for students who needed to study for their midterms. to him, it seemed like the entire campus was seated in the tables. trying to avoid feeling overwhelmed, he asked his brother arthur -who was a freshman- for help. he had finished his exams just in time to help charles with the family business.

unfortunately for you, the exam season had just started and it was almost impossible to concentrate in your bedroom due to your roommate being the most loud person on planet earth. thankfully, you had heard from a few classmates about this little coffee shop where, according to their words, the vibes were just great.

so you made your way to the small business that, just from the outside, seemed to be completely full. thankfully, a little table next to the window had just freed, and you made your way over there. dropping carefully your backpack full of heavy books and placing your laptop on the table, you approached the counter to make your order.

'arthur! I didn't know you worked here' you said happily. you had met the boy in a class you two shared last semester, and even though you rarely talked, every time you run into him you said hi to eachother.

'hey, y/n! how are you? long time no see' he said, with the leclerc's classic smile on his face. after a few minutes catching up, you ordered your drink and made your way to the table you had already set up, unaware of the eyes that followed you since the start of you interaction with the monegasque.

'who was that?' said charles to his brother in a whisper next to his ear, careful that no one that shouldn't listen hears, while finishing another order and delivering it with a smile. 'we used to go to the same class last semester. why?' the little leclerc was now confused. seeing his brother shy was a rare occurrence, but the motive being a girl was even more weird. so the next question almost made arthur faint with laughter. 'do you like her?'

after a minute of nonstop laughter that made charles go as red as a ferrari, his brother finally answered. 'no, I don't like her. though you seem a little too curious, maybe you like her?' and without saying a single word, charles left him hanging to continue attending the few clients that came in -and avoid answering the question-. arthur just continued to laugh, but now, with his suspicion confirmed.

you were the last to leave the little coffee shop, getting carried away with the work you had to do: finish two essays and study for a midterm. charles had almost gotten the courage to go and talk to you, with the excuse of telling you about the closing of the shop. but you managed to beat him to it, grabbing your things, throwing them carelessly inside your backpack and rushing on your way out. the monegasque dropped his head in his hands and whispered to himself 'i'm so stupid'

'yeah, you are, brother' said smugly his younger brother. 'you know, maybe I can give you her number. i must have it saved in my phone' arthur said, while jokingly elbowing his older brother. 'no, that would be too creepy. and what should I say if i sent her a message out of nowhere?' charles replied, now looking frustrated at the boy that was too busy searching for your contact on his phone. 'hey, how are you? you don't know me but I served you coffee today and I thought you were cute, so I asked my brother for your number' he said, while raising his tone a bit to imitate how the fake scenario would work out. 'really smart of you arthur. not weird at all' he breathed out and left the counter, searching for his things in the back of the family shop to go home. 'so you do like her!' the little leclerc shouted jokingly, and charles answered instantly 'you'll have to walk back home'.

the next day, you were one of the first to arrive at the little coffee shop. you were motivated to work there, not only because the vibe had helped you get more done that you could have achieved in your too-distracting room, but because of the cute barista that you saw working with your friend yesterday. you had hoped that maybe you could talk to him today, but he was nowhere to be seen. so, you arrived at the counter, and while arthur took you order, you tried to ask about who this mystery man was.

'arthur, who was the boy that was here with you yesterday?' you tried sounding casual, but seeing his wide grin made you realize that your intentions were too obvious. 'he's my older brother. he's in class now, but maybe you can catch him if you come at noon' he tried to wink horribly while giving you your order. you laughed, and thanked him for your drink. once you had returned to your table and wasn't looking at the monegasque, he took his phone out to send a message to his brother.

arthur said: guess who came back

arthur said: guess who asked for you

and charles replied almost instantly.

charles said: fuck off

charles said: i know you're lying

charles said: I guess you'll walk home again

arthur said: I'm not lying

and, without knowing how else to prove his innocence, he proceeded to take a discreet picture of you.

charles said: wtf dude that's so creepy

arthur said: maybe if you had believed me like any normal brother would do

charles said: shut up i'm in class.

and with that, the bickering stopped until, a few hours later, charles entered the building after finishing with his class. he left his things at the back, like he always did, and put on the uniform he had to have on while working. arthur soon came and greeted him with a side hug, while whispering 'so, what's your plan?'

'plan for what?' his older brother replied, confused. 'to get her number, asshole, since u don't want my help' the younger one said, with an accusatory look on his face. 'it's not that I don't want it, I don't need it. I can take care of my love life alone, arthur, thank you' charles said, already starting to get pissed off. 'whatever lets you sleep at night' the little monegasque said and rubbed away, before his brother could punch him.

but at the fourth day of seeing you at the shop charles began to doubt. what if he couldn't get your number? he had been too shy to even spare you a look a second longer than needed. and you, having finished your two essays and taking your midterm the next day, were running out of reasons to visit the coffee shop.

you figured you would talk to him the next morning, when you came to take your coffee in your way to class. after all, you would be already nervous because of your exam, so you couldn't get any more nervous than that, right?

'sorry, I need something more' you came back, still with your coffee in hand and the backpack hanging from your shoulder. 'whatever you need' charles answered fast. maybe too fast, he thought. would you think he was too desperate? he started to worry, and his cheeks started to redden in consequence. reading the tag that was attached to his uniform, you asked him: 'would you give me your number, charles?'

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 blurb #charles leclerc blurb

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justsomerandomfanfic · 2 years

Text

My Number One Hero - Katsuki Bakugo X Female Reader

Title: My Number One Hero

Katsuki Bakugo X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Tsuyu, Ochako, Momo, Mina (Mentioned), Kirishima (Mentioned), Denki (Mentioned), Sero (Mentioned), and Izuku (Mentioned), and Osake (OC) (Mentioned)

WC: 2,372

Warnings: Slight suggestiveness, Osake doesn't keep his hands to himself, threats, fighting, punching, slight angst, mentions of death (but no one dies), and Bakugo saves the day

Rolling your eyes, you rested your hand on your cheek. Over at another table, some guy you only knew by 'Osake,' was staring at you. Like he usually did. It... Unnerved you. He had asked you out many times before, but your answer was always the same. No.

He was somewhat cute; however, his personality left much to be desired. But that was beside the point. It didn't matter anyway, you were only interested in one person. Katsuki Bakugo. Bakugo was loud and rude, but he was fiercely competitive. It was one of the things you liked most about him. His determination. His want and need to become... Well, in his words, the best and number one hero.

Katsuki Bakugo hated you. That was why you had no choice but to keep it a secret. Well, you thought he hated you. He hated everyone. But, he wasn't as mean to you as he was to the others. Maybe because he liked you? No, that couldn't have been true.

You shook your head clear of those thoughts and pushed them away. There would be time for all that later. You went back to trying to eat your food, but Tsu nudged you gently in the side, grabbing your attention.

"He's been staring at you all lunch, Y/N." She observed and you nodded, sighing again.

"I know."

Ochako giggled, nodding, "He seems to really like you... Isn't he in the General Education class?" She asked and you nodded, not even sparing the guy a glance.

"Yeah."

She smirked knowingly, looking over your shoulder, "Well then, go say hi!"

"Why?" You asked, looking back at her, eyebrows furrowed.

"Because you should have fun... Not being cooped up in your room studying or whatever." Momo spoke, pointing a chopstick at you.

You shook your head, "Not my type."

Momo rolled her eyes, shaking her head, "It seems that no one here is your type..." She muttered, but you ignored her.

You sighed, looking at Bakugo, he was eating with Denki, Mina, Sero, and Kirishima. The four were talking and laughing while Bakugo just ate his food, a frown on his face, and eyes narrowed.

Glancing down at your own bowl, you frowned, "I'll see you guys later." You murmured, pushing your tray aside, leaving your unfinished meal behind. Standing, you grabbed your bag and left the cafeteria without any fanfare.

~~~

Bakugo watched, confused and concerned as you left the cafeteria. You looked sad, maybe even annoyed. Bakugo bit his lip, not taking his eyes off you until you were fully out of sight. He had known you for a long time. You lived in the same neighborhood that he and Deku lived in. He talked to you only a few times until school started. After that, Bakugo paid more attention to becoming the number one hero. But, that didn't stop him from having a crush on you.

Bakugo thought you were amazingly strong. Your quirk was incredible, to say the least. Not only were you a great and talented fighter, but you were also beautiful, perfect in Bakugo's eyes. You were kind, sweet, and very dedicated to your studies. At first, he ignored his feelings for you, thinking that they would slow him down, but only recently had he realized that they only made him stronger.

Bakugo turned his eyes back to the rest of his group. They were busy talking about some video game or whatever, he didn't really care. He was going to get back to his lunch, but he paused when that Osake kid got up from his seat, a smirk on his face. His friends from his table cheered and clapped his on the back, before he left towards where you had gone. Glaring at the back of the guy's back, Bakugo got up suddenly, ignoring his friend's worried questions and confused glances.

~~~

You headed towards your dorm for the day, glad that you didn't really need to go to the rest of your classes. You fumbled with your uniform with your fingers, feeling a bit anxious. You let out a deep breath, only feeling a smidge better. Once you were almost to the exit, a voice called from behind you.

"Hey! Y/N! Wait up!"

You sighed, hearing Osake's voice.

You tried to walk faster, but you decided to stop. Better to get it over with than to run away. If he tried anything, you'd beat him up. You didn't care if you got detention or something. You weren't going to put up with Osake any longer. Turning around, you crossed your arms.

"What do you want?" You asked, already annoyed.

"I just wanted to talk to you, angel." He spoke with a smirk, stepping closer to you.

Cringing, you glared at him, "Don't call me that."

He laughed, "Oh come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be nice!"

You rolled your eyes, "What do you want, Hensho?" You asked, and his eyes widened a bit before he went back to his normally cocky self.

"I wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out sometime?" He asked and you immedently shook your head.

"No. That's not happening." You said, but Osake scoffed..

"Come on, it's just one date." He tried again, getting slightly annoyed, but his hid it with his cunning smirk.

He slowly stepped forward, making you step back, your back hitting the wall. Your eyes widened a little, realizing that you were trapped, and it didn't seem like there was anybody around to help you.

You felt a hand on your arm and looked up at Osake, "Just say yes, come on... It'll be fun."

You looked away, hating the way he said the last sentence. The way it dragged along his tongue, like there was a hidden meaning behind it. And, you were sure there was one. Looking back up, glaring fiercely at the boy before you, you spoke.

"No."

Osake's half-lidded eyes narrowed, before he grabbed onto your arm again, and leaned down slightly towards you.

"Come on, it's just one date."

You were about to reply when you heard stomping. Looking over, you watched as if it was all in slow motion, as Bakugo came charging over, punching Osake straight in the face. Osake stumbled backwards, as Bakugo's fast make impact with his face, slamming him down into the ground with a loud thud. You watched in awe and shock as Bakugo stood up, breathing heavily with anger. Osake was unconscious on the ground, his nose bleeding. Yep, it was definitely broken.

Huffing, Bakugo finally spoke, "She said no." Talking down to Osake's unconscious body on the floor.

Bakugo turned to you, giving you a once over, "Are you okay?" He asked and you nodded, mouth still agape.

"You saved me..." You mumbled, still in complete awe.

Blushing, Bakugo nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, "Yeah... So? No thank you?" He tried being tough, but you didn't seem to notice.

"Thank you, Bakugo." You spoke before looking down at Osake on the floor. "I think you killed him." You joked, looking back at him and he chuckled.

"Yeah, whatever. Hopefully, that taught the creep a lesson." He spoke and you basically melted.

"I know one thing for sure..." You began softly, and Bakugo turned to you, noticing your smile.

"What's that?" He asked, and you just smiled up at him.

"You're definitely going to be the number one hero." You spoke, and Bakugo's eyes went wide, his blush darkening.

Oh, he was in love.

"Really?" He asked, softly from shock and you nodded.

"Yeah, absolutely, you're like the best fighter I've ever seen, you're smart and determined. You have the means and ability to do what it takes to achieve your goals. It's really admirable really." You spoke, looking up at him as he stared down at you.

Bakugo felt something warm spread through his chest and butterflies to erupt in his stomach. Hearing you compliment him made him unbelievably happy. It was crazy what you did to him. His heart was beating so fast and the palms of his hands felt sweaty. More sweaty than usual.

"Are you serious?" He asked and you stuttered out a laugh.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You asked as if he had asked a silly question, and he had.

Bakugo bit his lip, his red eyes staring into yours. You looked up at him, smiling widely and Bakugo could feel his heart begin to race. It was growing harder to breathe, his mind seemed hazy. It was awkwardly silent for a while, before Bakugo spoke, clearing his throat.

"Um... While I'm here... I wanted to know if..." He trailed off, looking away, his face red, but you pushed off of the wall, stepping closer to him.

"Yes..?" You asked, wanting to know what he wanted to say, but you had a feeling that you already knew.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed, "Well... Do you want to go out sometime?" He asked, and you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

Or seeing for that matter! Bakugo looked shy, awkward, and honestly... Adorable.

"A date with you?" You asked with a small smirk, noticing his cheeks flush more as you grew closer to him.

"Yeah... With me." He replied, and you nodded, your smile never faltering.

"I thought you'd never ask." You giggled and Bakugo let out a breath, a small smile on his face.

But as soon as the smile arrived, it quickly was replaced by his usual smirk.

"Cool, I'll text you." He spoke and you nodded, feeling very giddy as Bakugou slowly backed away, almost stumbling over the still unconscious Osake as he stepped back.

You watched him leave, feeling a sense of joy, happiness, and excitement. You felt like you could do anything. You were invincible.

~~~

It was almost seven and you and Bakugo were walking hand in hand back to the dorms. You two had spent the night eating at a nearby diner before walking through a park, talking and enjoying each other's company. At the end of your night, the both of you sat on a park bench, looking up at the stars above. Which, was where you also shared your first kiss.

It was amazing.

You had been nervous at first, but after you kissed him, it felt like everything was right. Bakugo's lips were soft against yours and you instantly forgot about your nerves. You raked your hands through his surprisingly soft hair, pulling him closer to you.

"I've wanted to do that since we met." You confessed, moving your hands down to his shirt, gripping onto the fabric tightly.

"Me too." He spoke softly, his breath tickling your face gently.

Bakugo's lips brushed against yours again, and this time it was you who pulled him closer. You moved your hands down to his waist, feeling his body heat. Bakugo brought his hands from your waist up you hold both of your cheeks, caressing your smooth skin underneath his fingertips. You moaned softly, feeling your heartbeat quicken.

Smiling, you felt as if you were on cloud nine, looking up at Bakugo as you two walked down the halls. He noticed your stare and smirked, tilting his head down to place a quick kiss on your head. Giggling, you pulled him closer to you by his arm, leaning your head on his shoulder. But, sadly, the moment had to end.

"Really, you're going out with that jerk?"

Looking to the side, in an adjoining room to the hallway, were Osake and his friends. Osake stood up and walked over, glaring at Bakugo, who just glared right back.

"I thought I knocked some sense into you." Bakugo spoke, voice deep.

Osake scoffed, ignoring his comment, "You're dating her now?" Osake spat, his voice full of hate.

"I am." Bakugo spoke, trying to calm down, but it was hard.

He really wanted to punch Osake's face in again.

You could feel Bakugo's hand start to warm up, not too hot, but you looked up to Bakugo, slightly worried. You didn't want a fight to break out.

"She belongs to me." Osake spoke, and Bakugo's eyes widened, he grabbed your hand firmly, "She belongs to no one."

Your heart raced at Bakugo's words.

"Really? Okay, let's take this outside. I can beat you. There's no doubt that I can." Osake taunted, looking down at Bakugo.

"Let's do it then." Bakugo replied, and you looked to him, shaking your head.

"He's not worth it, Katsuki. He'd lose anyway. Just a waste of stamina." You spoke and Bakugo hummed with a quirk of his lip.

"Fine." He replied, turning away from the boy and continuing your walk back to the dorms.

Osake scoffed, "That's it? You're just going to back down?"

"Yeah." As if it were obvious.

Osake laughed, "Are you kidding me?! You should have just fought me!" He shouted, but Bakugo didn't answer.

You and Bakugo kept walking, ignoring Osake and finally making it back to the dorms. You bit your lip as you finally made it to your dorm room. Stopping at the door, you turned to look up at Bakugo, worrying your bottom lip.

"Do you... Want to stay the night?" You asked, and Bakugo smirked.

"Hmm maybe, what do you have to offer?" He asked and you, took both his hands into yours, looking up at him through your lashes.

"I have Super Smash Bros on the Nintendo..."

Bakugo immediately perked up, "You have a Nintendo?"

"I do! It's on my desk." You spoke and Bakugou pretended to think for a moment.

"Hmm, alright. I'll stay." He spoke, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into your room.

You laughed and followed him inside. He shut the door behind him, locking it and turning to you, kissing you once more. He pulled back with a smirk on his face as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes.

"I'm gonna beat you."

You scoffed, jaw dropped, "Oh, I doubt it." You spoke with a laugh.

Bakugou just sighed, looking down at you with complete admiration in his eyes. He was really good at the game, but he was going to let you win... At least once.

#bakugou x fem!reader #fluff #cute #slight angst #bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #bakugou fluff #bakugou fanfiction #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x y/n #bnha bakugo katsuki #x reader #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki #katsuki bakugo #female reader

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up-to-some-good · 9 months

Text

Fifteen

Some pre-relationship baby Jily for this Era. Written for @cruelsummer-ficfest era 4.

Ship: Jily

Song: Fifteen (Taylor's Version)

'Cause when you're fifteen,

Somebody tells you they love you

You're gonna believe them

And when you're fifteen...

Lily huffed a laugh as she wiped her nose with her sleeve. It was the third time this week that she'd had to disappear into the Prefect's bathroom to cry. It was getting a bit ridiculous, but the term had been nightmarish and didn't seem to be getting better.

First, she had made a fool of herself at the Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, proudly painting her cheeks with Hufflepuff colours after her date with their captain, Graham Porter, the previous weekend. She'd told all her fellow fifth years about their date, and how excited she was for the next one, only to watch him fly off the pitch after their win, and pull Gemma Warwick into a kiss.

After that fiasco, she had struggled to study and had gone into her Divination OWL completely unprepared. She didn't particularly want to take the subject further, but she didn't need a bad grade on her record, especially with the rising anti-muggleborn ideation.

Then there was Severus, who had spat a slur in her face and destroyed 8 years of friendship. She had really believed him when he'd told her he cared about her and didn't care about blood status, and now she was left feeling like a fool after her revealed his true colours. It didn't help that James Potter had been there to egg him on, nor that the rest of Gryffindor tower had heard their argument when Severus came begging for her forgiveness. She was constantly reminded by whispers and gossips that she'd lost her best and only friend.

A loud knock stirred her from her thoughts before the door opened and James Potter walked in.

"Occupied, Potter. And you shouldn't be in here, anyway. Prefects only."

He smiled sheepishly.

"Remus told me the password," he said as he moved to sit next to her on the floor. "And I know I shouldn't be in here, but I needed to catch you alone."

She sighed and leaned her head back against the wall.

"Out with it, then," she responded. "What do you need to talk to me about so urgently?"

"I wanted to apologise," he said simply.

Her head snapped over to look at him, eyes wide and surprised.

"I'm sorry, Evans," he continued. "I've been an asshole to you and to Snape, and you didn't deserve it. I'm also sorry for asking you out the other day, even as a joke. It was unkind and inappropriate. I've tried to apologise to Snape too for the incident by the lake, but he won't let me get a word in. Which is fair, I guess. It's not like I've ever had something kind to say to him before. But I'm babbling, and you don't need to hear all that, so I'm gonna shut up now. I'm sorry, is the point."

There was a long pause as she thought over his words. James shifted uncomfortably, twisting his hands together while she kept staring at him.

"Why now?" she asked eventually. "Why apologise now, after five years of knowing us?"

He scratched the back of his neck and ran a hand through his hair before answering.

"It's a number of things, really. First is that both McGonagall and Remus gave me an earful last week, which made me sit and think about my actions properly. I know I should think before acting, but at least I'm getting closer. Second is that I realised I'm turning into the kind of person I claim to hate, and I don't want to be that. I know we're only 15 and we have time to grow, but I don't want to start in the wrong place. I want to be better than this. And..."

He drifted off at the last point and looked away from her.

"And?" she prompted gently.

"And I really do like you, and I've noticed you sitting alone at mealtimes, and only sitting with Abigail from Hufflepuff in class, and I don't think it's fair that you don't have anyone else. I know you're probably avoiding sitting with me, but that means you don't get to sit with Marlene or Dorcas or Mary or even Remus and Sirius, who I know you're friends with. I don't want to be the reason you don't have friends. I'd much rather be one of them. I care about you."

"Oh."

He got even more twitchy, if it was possible, and began to stand up to leave before she caught his arm.

"Thank you," she said. "For the apology and for caring about me. I appreciate it."

"Any time, Evans."

He started crying walking towards the door, hands stuffed in his pockets and head down.

"I'll see you at lunch?" she called out to him.

He paused for a moment and turned back, half smiling at her.

"Yeah, Evans," he responded quietly. "See you at lunch."

He turned away again, reaching for the door handle before she stopped him again.

"And, James?"

He paused, but didn't respond, looking at her with his head tilted slightly.

"Call me Lily."

He smiled properly then, a grin lighting up his whole face.

"You got it."

#jily #james potter #lily evans #cruel summer fic fest 2023 #cruel summer fic fest: the eras tour #era number 4 #fifteen #hurt/comfort #I think #fluff

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its-tortle · 1 year

Note

Hello dear ♥️

For the drabble ask I would love Stucky and Number 39 ♥️

Thank you ♥️

hi andrea!! this song is actually my shrunkyclunks anthem, so it's so wonderful that you requested this one. i think it's a bit tough to capture in a ficlet and i'm not quite happy with this one, but i hope you enjoy it nonethless! <3

Thought I wanted to forget my past

Tried to leave the pieces of a broken man

What it cost I ain't ever getting back

So I'm breaking the lines 'cause I wanna remember

Man I was feeling like I never was young

Followed a dream and a strange desire

You picked me up in the dead of the night

And gave me a chance to move on inside of your mystery

The 21st century is a lot.

It feels bright and loud, and full of images and references and products Steve doesn’t quite understand. Even if he gets the hang of how things work rather quickly -- he does actually know how to send a text, thank you Tony -- it all still feels so alien that Steve can’t quite get comfortable with it. It feels like everything in this century moves so fast -- the cars, the billboards, the technology, the people wearing headphones that zip past Steve on the sidewalk because everyone always seems to have a place to be.

Steve doesn’t, not really. Between SHIELD briefs and studying bursts to try and catch up on the history of the last 70 years, Steve has time.

He takes a lot of long walks. His feet take him up and down Manhattan and then over the bridge through the Brooklyn streets, searching for anything familiar. He doesn’t find much beyond the odd building or rare establishment. Even what’s still there feels different.

He recalls what the Red Skull had said to him, on that last fight on the airplane. ‘A man out of time’ he had called Steve, and the strange villain-speech nickname sticks to Steve now like some middle school bully taped it to his back.

Steve feels like an alien, overwhelmed with the world and overwhelmed mostly, he thinks, with loneliness.

He thinks he wants to just forget his past, as much as he can, leave the pieces of a broken man behind and start anew in the 21st century. Sure, he’s Captain America -- a science experiment gone right, an iconic war hero who saved New York not once but twice now -- but the cost of that is something he’s never getting back. Maybe he should try just being Steve

It’s all playing on Steve’s mind again as he walks through the streets now, observing that ‘the city that never sleeps’ has reigned true in this century, too. It’s just after 3 AM, and Steve is only out because he couldn’t sleep, but he finds company in the giggly girls in sparkly dresses that emerge from nightclubs and the deli employees sharing jokes over a cigarette at the street corner. Taxis are still honking at each other, and Manhattan is still alive with colorful lights and loud voices and the mingling smells of exhaust fumes and 24/7 Kebap stands.

As he approaches Grand Street, Steve looks up to watch two figures chase each other around the steps of the subway station, laughing and shouting in a language Steve can’t understand. One of them leaps down the stairs and the other follows until they’re no longer visible and their voices dissipate in an echo underground. They looked like students, Steve thinks mildly, like they were barely twenty, and Steve doesn't think he’s ever felt that young in his life.

He certainly doesn’t now.

The street before him is emptier than it was an hour ago, and Steve thinks he should probably head back to his apartment to at least try and get some rest. The sidewalk before him is vacant when he makes a left turn, and he watches the remnants of the evening rain glisten on the pavement.

Then, out of nowhere, he bumps heavily into another person.

Immediately, he starts to apologize, holding his arms out to steady the stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” he tells the discernable waves of dark brown hair. “Are you okay?”

When the stranger looks up, the hair falls aside to reveal steel blue eyes and the prettiest face Steve thinks he has ever seen in his entire life. He has sharp, rosy cheekbones and a wide jaw that’s half hidden by the bright red scarf he’s wearing. The color makes his lips look all the pinker, like strawberry stains on linen. The man before him looks like a dream.

Where did he come from?

“I am now,” the stranger says with a little quirk of his strawberry lips.

Steve huffs a surprised little laugh at the line and wishes to God he was anything other than a blubbering idiot around attractive people. “Good. I mean, I- I’m glad.”

The stranger seems to find Steve’s flusteredness amusing. He regards Steve with a little smile, and something about the look in his eyes that Steve is unable to look away. Or maybe, Steve thinks, it’s the eyes themselves that are so captivating, but something about the man before him robs Steve of any rational sense of explanation.

He’s a complete and utter mystery, and Steve wants to uncover it.

“Can I walk you home?” he hears himself ask before he was even aware he opened his mouth.

The stranger’s smile widens, and his eyes crinkle at the corners in a way that Steve wants to trace with his fingertips. “I don’t even know your name,” he remarks. “How do I know you’re not a serial killer?”

“That is a very valid point.”

Feeling incredibly dorky as he does it, Steve holds out his hand. “I’m Steve. Rogers. And I’m not a serial killer.”

The man acknowledges Steve’s name with a subtle widening of his eyes, and his eyebrows quirk for a moment, but his reaction is minimal. Steve is so grateful he kind of wants to kiss him -- although maybe he also wants to do that for other reasons.

“Well, then,” the stranger says, holding out his arm, “my name is Bucky Barnes, and we are going on a little walk to Williamsburg.”

Steve takes his arm and can’t help the grin he feels on his face. Bucky, he thinks. He wants to write the name up on his wall.

“Why Bucky?” he asks as they begin to make their way down the street.

Bucky smiles conspiratorially. “That, Steve Rogers, is a story you have to earn.”

Steve laughs, and the thought crosses his mind that he would work years to win it. Maybe, he can find a way to move on inside of the mystery that is Bucky Barnes.

#ehhh #i don't wike it #and oh my god i have to get up in less than 8hours fuck #i just really wanted to write today and then i had to work on uni til after 9 and then this took forever fuckk #anyway #i hope it was worth it even a little bit!#and i hope you like it <3 #stucky #stucky ficlet #tortle writes #shrunkyclunks

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