#when we were talking last night I acknowledged that her always bringing me snacks is a way she likes to express her love

[pastelwitchling]

My heart is pounding at the thought of last night’s episode. For certain people and scenes at least. I’ve given up hope that these posts will be short, so if you want to read my thoughts on 4x02, grab some tea and maybe a snack, because I have quiet a few opinions.

First thing’s first. I’m just going to say what we’re all thinking; Walt and Arturo are wonderful. Arturo’s whole, “Looks delicious, you’re hired” had me giggling for the first time since Alex’s, “And I’m eating Wheaties” last season. And Walt. Listen. Alex has been called many things throughout the show, but Walt calling him “pretty-lookin’ fella” is my absolute favorite. Anyone who acknowledges Alex’s good looks and beautiful heart is a freaking genius in my book. I’ve been calling Alex “pretty” in my fics since the dawn of time, and I can’t even begin to describe how satisfying it was to have Walt, of all people, be the one to bring it to life with such a casual tone, like of course he’s pretty, what’re you kidding me? This must be how authors feel when their books are adapted onto the big screen.

Anyway. That’s really where the laughs end for me. I’m probably going to get a lot of crap for this, but Anatsa’s so annoying. Okay, hear me out. On the one hand, I get that she’s a reporter and this is her job, the main character in my original novel The Wolf King is a journalist who wants the truth, so I get it. I really don’t dislike her at all, in fact if she was starring in her own show or something, I think she’d be a really fun and cool character. On the other, she’s an outsider to our little group, and she’s putting people I already know and love in difficult positions. I don’t want her to stay with Isobel, so I don’t want her to know the truth. I’m just waiting for this tedious, awkward relationship to end already.

I love that Isobel wanted to see Kyle and was crestfallen when she’d seen him on a date with someone else. I love kybel so I really can’t wait till we get to those two together. Kyle is awesome as always. I have to mention that.

Listen. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with the guest stars, I’m sure they’re all very nice people and great actors, it’s just that there are always so damn many of them, and I am sick to death of the excess subplots. I really, really, really, really, really don’t care about Liz’s students. The one guest star who I legitimately am upset did not show up in season 2 (you know, when we were supposed to find out about the Awakening) was that doctor lady. I feel bad for having forgotten her name considering she’s the only one whose character is really unique and cool. I’m just so done with everyone else though. Respectfully.

Before I get to the Alex stuff that I always save till the end because I want to go off on a good note, I want to talk for just a second about that scene between Michael and Alex in front of the console. Admittedly, it really bugged me for a lot of the episode that Michael seemed willing to let Alex be away from home for a longer time so that he didn’t have to give up a piece of glass. I know the glass is important to him, but I wished he cared more about Alex leaving. Luckily though, they do address that at the end of the episode, and acknowledge it, and Michael makes up for it, which I was really grateful for.

There is a moment in the promo, however, for next week’s episode in which Michael basically implies that these aliens might not be the enemy, and I’m really, really hoping that that scene happens before he realizes that they took Alex. Because if these people kidnapped Alex, and Michael still considers that they might be good guys -- even if they didn’t know about the kidnapping and they are good guys -- but if Michael wonders, then I will be so, painfully disappointed. They took his Alex. They are the enemy in that instance, they can’t be anything else, not to him. So I hope for the best.

Now for everything to do with Alex. I love the opening scene, the way Michael and Alex are together as Alex talks to Deep Sky, I love love love the fact that Alex and Max and Dallas had sat down together to discuss plans -- I’ve been waiting for something like this since season 1 -- and I absolutely love the amount of time we got Alex on screen. As always, I wish we had him for the entire episode, but I’m really glad I didn’t have to wait long to see him.

Now. About him leaving, I love the way they did it, it was such a relief, and here’s why. We knew Alex was going to be off-screen for a bit because Tyler was having back problems at the time of filming and ultimately needed back surgery, so we knew Alex was going to leave for a time. I only pleaded that it wouldn’t be because he and Michael had broken up for whatever reason. They might still do that, I’m praying they don’t, but I said I would be fine if they faced whatever came as a couple, and that seems to be the direction the writers are going in, so thank the gods.

It gets better though, because even as Alex drove out of Roswell, I was brokenhearted, but the way they did it, with him being taken in the end, keeps him involved in the story in a much bigger way.

So it’s not like, Oh Alex just texted, he said he found some interesting readings blah blah blah. Alex being taken could be, what I’m desperately hoping for, the reason that Michael goes undercover in the first place. What I’m hoping happens is that the group talks like we saw them do in the promo for next week’s episode, Michael gets word that Alex’s car was left behind, that he’d vanished, and that they found traces of alien so the aliens took him, and that prompts Michael to go undercover in order to find Alex.

I’m hoping for the whole season 2 thing done right this time. I want the entire group to worry about him the way they freaking obsessed over Maria, I want everyone to actually care about what happens to him, I want Michael to go ballistic and never leave his side again.

I want this season to be the writers’ attempt to right the wrongs of season 2, do it better. And without a certain showrunner around, I have hope that they just might.

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #rnm thoughts #rnm 4x02 #rnm spoilers #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #anti isobel x anatsa #? I guess

[cesium-sheep]

she came home early from work and still made time on her way home to go to h mart and pick out some cake for me.

#when we were talking last night I acknowledged that her always bringing me snacks is a way she likes to express her love #even though it also doesn't always get through that way because the same thing that made food so important made gifts feel pretty token #but like. sometimes it does work! sometimes I feel loved because my wife brought me a yummy treat. #but sometimes it's just there. #even though she does it cuz she loves me.

[poppy-metal]

so uh,,,,this ended up being alot softer then i was expecting LMAO.

Bully!eren x reader

Cw: not alot, some smut at the end. Tame for me but i was in my FEELINGS okay.

Word count: 2.3k

The familiar sleek black of erens benz pulls up to the side of your house as you walk home from a late night trip to the grocery store, pints of ben & jerrys ice cream in the bags, as well as several other snack items one might munch on to cram for an exam, which is what you planned on doing. 

You side step more onto the sidewalk when he pulls up beside you, still driving just slow enough to match your pace. He rolls down the window, jerking his head, “Just the girl i wanted to see,” he drawls hooking his arm out his window to lean out a little, he grins, “its fate” 

You scrunch your nose up and scoff “Stalking is another word for it, jaeger”. You look him over suspiciously, “you wanted to see me?” 

He rolls his eyes. He’s wearing aviator sunglasses, pushed up his forehead. Loitering in front of your house like this, you’re aware of how different the worlds you live in are. Everything about eren is expensive, from his car to his sunglasses to his clothes, even the way he smells, the cologne he wears, all tells how important he is. Meanwhile here you are in your oversized hoodie and leggings, hands full of stuff you’d bought from the convenience store, prepared to spend your night busting your ass to even stay in the college you had to claw your way to get into, wherein he had gotten in without even trying. You’re not self conscious, at least not usually. You’d never yearned to be apart of erens world too terribly, and it was eren who always sought you out, not the other way around, when there was plenty of rich girls right up his alley and status that would be glad to be with him and yet here he was at 11pm at night. You try to push down the way your heart flutters at that fact.

“Uh huh. Get in the car, bambi, m’taking you somewhere” his teeth are a flash of white against the night, promising trouble, as always. Your grip on your bags tightens, as does your heart in your chest. You glance away, “i have to study” 

“Study?”

Your brows pinch together and you hold up your bags “Not that you’d care, jaeger, but some of us have to actually study to achieve our goals. I can't entertain you tonight, im busy” 

Eren doesn’t look put out in the slightest, glancing down at your bags with casual disinterest“You dont need to study”. And then he looks up at you and meets your eyes, your breath catching, they look closer to the shade of seaglass today. “You’re smarter than anyone i know, ___, and i know alot of people. Whatever you want to pass? You’re already there. Just come with me, please”  

Your eyes widen and your heart spasms in your chest, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice. He has moments like this, where he usually teases you and gets under your skin but sometimes he says something that makes everything in you jolt. Its not fair. Its confusing and it messes with your head, makes it fuzzy, weakens you and makes you do things you’d never do with a clear mind.  

You wish you could fight it, wish you could roll your eyes and tell him no and do what you need to do. But you don’t. Huffing you say, “Ugh, fine. Just let me put this stuff up, my ice creams probably already a puddle by now” you turn and rush up to your house, ears burning when you hear him call out, “Thatta girl!” 

You try not to put everything away to hastily, thinking he ought to squirm just a little, but even you can’t deny the eager buzzing under your skin. When you clamber into the passenger seat of his car eren turns to grin at you as he flicks his sunglasses back over his eyes. “Knew you’d see reason, bambi”. You roll your eyes at the nickname, crossing your arms over your chest as you side eye him warily, “where are you taking me jaeger, is this a kidnapping?” 

“Not a kidnapping when you want it, sweetheart”, eren says, putting his arm around the back of your seat as he backs up his car to make a uturn. You dont know if the flustered leap in your chest is from the petname or the way his forearm looks flexing, the cords in his neck prominent as he looks behind him for any oncoming cars. “Just trust me, yeah? You’ll like it” 

You sink in the seat, trying to get away from the warm heat of his arm so close to you, but hes taking it away soon enough, only to draw your attention again to the way his hands look steering the wheel. His hands….You turn to look out the window, opting for silence, because you feel like you’re about to lose your mind. This car is just so..him and its overwhelming your senses. It smells good, it smells like him, his cologne wafting all around you. The sleek interior of his car is crisp, clean, sharp, and just so richboy it feels surreal. You haven’t been in his car before. 

Eren seems okay with the silence though, tapping his finger idly against the wheel as soft music plays from the radio. Its strangely peaceful, actually. Before you know it, the whirring of houses and neighborhoods and highway turns into palm trees and sand. You sit up straighter, coming out of your daze when you realize eren is pulling his car into the sandy bank by a large body of water. The beach. You haven’t had a chance to go here. 

The water looks like black at this time of night, there are no waves, just sparkling dark abyss that stretches out for ages and ages, glittering under the moonlight. There are no other cars parked close to you so its just you, eren, and the sea. 

You spend quite awhile gawking at the ocean before you come to your senses and turn to face eren. He has his elbow propped on the wheel, chewing idly on his thumb as he peers at you from over his sunglasses. A small smile is playing at his lips as he watches you. 

You gape, “What…” 

“You’re cute when you’re excited, you know” his voice is low, dropped in that way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You ignore the way your heart skips at his words, probing him, “Why did you bring me here, ren?” 

He turns to face forward, flipping the radio off so theres no background noise between the two of you. Taking his sunglasses off the folds them and puts them on the dash, sighing as he watches the ocean from out the windshield, gnawing on his lips. Tap, tap, tap, his fingers on the wheel go as you wait for him to speak. “Last week,” he starts, glancing at you, “When we had to do those presentations in class about places we feel at home..you talked about the library” 

He laughs under his breath like its some kind of endearing joke, shaking his head a little. You dont speak. “The library is where i first saw you, you know? I mean, before all this, before i..talked to you, i noticed you before you ever noticed me.” A small secret smile plays on his lips, “You were reading ‘percy jackson and the lightning thief’, and you haid your hair in pigtails. Your glasses were way to big your face. My first thought was ‘wow she looks like an owl’, but then i saw you laugh at something on the page and my second thought was ‘i want to know her’. We were in middle school.” 

Green eyes connect with yours, “You still go there, i know. But anyway..this is. My place, i guess”. He purses his lips “i figure since i'm always intruding on your little sanctuary , i’d let you see mine” 

You take everything he just said in. He’d known about you, noticed you, since middle school? You hadn’t acknowledged him until sophomore year of highschool, hadn’t spoken to him since senior year, when this tug and pull had first begun between you two. You remembered that day, your mother wouldn't buy you the series so you’d relied on constantly re-reading the books at the library. It was around that time you began to see that place as something special, too. Tucked away from the world, you could lose yourself in another's story. It was like magic. And to realize eren had been there the whole time, had glimpsed that, realized that the library was your special place, that he’d even payed attention to your presentation in class at all in the first place...that he was here, showing you something of himself in return, even though you’d never asked. You’d wondered of course. 

Eren was an enigma, he was on most days, the bane of your existence. He had made your life a living hell on many occasions, but with that, he also made you feel more alive than ever before. He’d dragged you out of your bubble and challenged you to see the world beyond school and books and fiction, he raised your emotions and forced you to experience everything head on. Anger, confusion, happiness, anxiety, thrill, lust and…

You look at him. The way the moonlight curls into the car like a kind of mist, making his eyes look absolutely beautiful. The soft wave to his brown hair, his eyelashes, everything about him made you ache with desire. All the time, even when you swore you hated him, you wanted him. 

“Kiss me”. Its whispered out so low, for a moment you worry he might not hear it. Its the first time you’ve asked for him, reached for him first without his taunting to guide a confession from you. With this request, filling the air between you, you’re making it known that you want him, want this. It doesn’t change anything and yet it somehow changes everything. You can’t look in the mirror and tell yourself he doesn’t occupy your mind and your heart anymore. Not after this. 

Eren seems to realize this too, his intake of breath letting you know he heard you loud and clear. “__..” he says, inching closer. His eyes, dark now, are so very hungry as he closes in. In a moment his lips, soft, so soft, are on yours. You sigh into his kiss, opening for him easily when his tongue glides into your mouth. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, tenderly, thumb stroking it. God, you want to eat him, you want him to eat you. The wet smack of your lips fills the car as you hungrily nip, and suck, and kiss at each others lips. 

When eren pulls back, he’s panting, hair disheveled. You don’t remember when your hands first sunk into his hair, but they must have, messed up as it is now. He looks at you like he wants to devour you, he licks his lips. “I’m gonna put your seat back,” he tells you slowly, each word dripping with finality, “im going to kiss every inch of your body and then you’re opening those legs for me and letting me inside, baby” 

You don’t have it in you to act scandalised, you know what you want. You’d basically asked for it. You just nod, never taking your eyes off his face when he reaches down and pulls the lever. And then you feel yourself being tilted backwards as the seat goes back, laying you flat. Your chest heaves with barely contained need as eren then settles above you, every clothed inch of him hovering just barely above you. 

Holding your eyes, eren lowers himself. You spread your legs easily to accommodate him, gasping when you feel his clothed cock settle right against your clit through your leggings. He rocks once, gently, against you, his hair hanging over his forehead as he looks down at you with utter want in his eyes, “Want you to feel me”, he murmurs, and rocks again, “Wanna fill you up so good, you can’t ever pretend that im not apart of you. Because, this, baby?” Another rock, a shuddered moan leaving your lips, “This is it. No ones gonna fuck you like i do, no ones gonna get inside that little head and play the games we play so well together.” 

One of his hands trails up your thigh, dipping his hand under the fabric of your leggings and pulling them slightly down, he pecks your lips, once, twice, three times. “Tell me”, he groans into your mouth, peeling your clothes off you slowly, “Tell me you understand, Tell me this is everything” 

And you tell him. Tell him through your whimpers when he parts the folds of your slick cunt with his fingers buried inside you. Tell him through your moans into his mouth when he shoves his jeans down and splits you open on his cock. Tell him through sighs of his name, when he rocks into you, licking into your mouth as he spears you open. Tell him through the way you claw your fingers down his back when starts to fuck you hard, rocking the car with the force of his thrusts. Tell him through the way you spread your legs, even wider, toes curling as he wrings orgasm after orgasm out of your tight little pussy milking him. 

“Its everything, you’re everything…” You cry out again and again, clutching onto him as he pumps you full of his cum, groaning brokenly into your neck. 

“Fuck”. He pulls back to look down at you, brushing your damp hair back from your face, still inside you. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you little nerd” 

#eren jaeger imagine #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #bully!eren #aot smut

[eremiie]

blame it on the whiskey;

❥ 12k words | nsfw | eren x reader

❥ you and your closest friends get together for a sleepover, but there’s one issue— eren jaeger is there, but you have to stick it through for the rest of your friends.

❥ content: alcohol use, overstimulation, choking, slapping, biting, scratching, dirty talk, degradation, teasing, orgasm denial, barebacking, cum play (?), spitting

"i literally just don't understand why he's here." your complaining was filling the small kitchen, you body propped up on the island seated in the middle of the room. "i mean he's just so annoying.. i don't understand you guys, y'all-"

"listen, ___, babe, you just need to relax." hitch cut you off, strutting into the kitchen then placing her arms at your bare shoulders, fixing the straps on your tank top as she spoke. "eren is not even that bad, and he's cute! we're gonna get you drunk tonight so you don't even have to think twice about him." she runs her hand down your waist and fixed the hem of your shirt before walking towards jean, reaching around him for a bottle of whiskey, pouring herself a shot with her glass before waving her way out of the kitchen, back towards the living room.

"i don't even know why you let him bother you that much, ____." jean huffs, pouring the rest of the chips into the bowl, connie pulling sasha away before she could try to grab it. "wait until i bring it to the living room, sasha!" he hisses, passing the bowl to you to hold.

"i don't! he argues with me over everything. it's so annoying. i swear i mind my business, and then he just butts in with his smart ass mouth. connie's usually there, right connie?" connie turns towards you with a confused expression on his face, stopping his slight wrestle with sasha, irritation spread across her face at the way he was restricting her from eating the snacks for the sleepover.

it was your last year of high school before you were going off to college alongside your friends, well your friend group. you all planned to get together in celebration, hosting a sleepover party, choosing jean's house as the destination while his parents were away. you had no problem with this; however you had a problem with eren jaeger.

during your first couple years the two of you got along quite well. having been so close with connie, sasha and jean you were kind of forced to hang out with eren, mikasa and armin since eren and jean were close as well. the two friend groups along with a couple others spent time well together, all of you constantly hanging out and having fun. both you and eren's personality were too much, you were both temperate and were easy to irritate. your arguments, no matter how small also turned into something big (you always won them though). your mouth was too quick and witty for eren while his was too harsh and rough for you. after a while the arguing turned into shade and pettiness and the two of you let your pride get the best of you, refusing to turn a shoulder towards the other, a newfound "hate" forming between the two of you.

but even after all of this not one person in your friend group could deny the sexual tension between the two of you, prevalent even from the beginning.

it was funny, when you and eren's friendship first blossomed the two of you had the slightest crush on each other. although, neither of you denied it and would never act upon it. the closer you got the more handsy you got, the more flirty you became until you chose to act repulsed upon one another's mere presence in a room after realization hit, which carried on even until now.

"i mean, i don't know, i don't pay attention. everything you guys argue about is stupid anyways." connie's hand was slapped away by sasha and she jumped off the counter.

"jean, please i'll bring it over there, just let me have a couple of pieces." sasha pointed to the small bowl of sour candy, putting on her best puppy dog eyes. jean rolled his eyes and shoved the bowl in her direction. you had to admit, she looked adorable in her onesie. she was matching with connie as well. they both thought it'd be comedic to buy onesies when all of you went to the store for snacks earlier. you took in jean's appearance as well, noticing he was still in his jeans and a t-shirt, how atypical of him.

"connie carry the drinks, and ____,"

you narrowed your eyes at jean with a pout at his lack of understanding upon your situation as he came over with his arms crossed over his chest. "it's only one night, and y'all will be gone tomorrow. don't be stupid, we're all friends here so just stay out of each other's way."

"jean,"

"please? i want this night to go as planned, and perfect."

"what's your idea of perfect? getting to suck on mika-"

jean's hand clamped over your mouth anger spanning over his face, his body tilting over to the left to see if anyone was listening from the hallway. "shut the fuck up! no, i want this to be fun for all of us dumbass. if you and jaeger boy are gonna go back and forth like that it'll ruin it for all of us."

"guys hurry up, we're playing never have i ever shot edition!" hitch yelled from the living room.

you licked jean's hand and he quickly pulled it away, grimacing in disgust before wiping your saliva on your bare leg. "yeah, whatever."

you hopped off the counter, adjusting your top for the umpteenth time and pulling down your shorts, walking out the kitchen with jean to set down the bowl of chips on the coffee table in the living room. you scanned the room; on one couch lied historia, connie and sasha with jean beginning to walk over to that corner, to sit on the floor beside the couch, and on the couch parallel lied armin, mikasa and eren who was just now sitting back down, sprawling himself across her lap, taking up almost the full length of the couch causing you to sigh in irritation at the simple action. reiner sat on the floor near historia, and hitch sat on the floor with the bottle of jack daniels seated in front of her, refilling a shot glass and patting the seat next to her for you to sit.

"here, take this shot." she pushed it to your lips once you were seated beside her and you reluctantly downed it, a burn singing your throat.

"hitch, relax, i'm gonna take some shots during the game."

"it's a starting shot, girl." hitch's filled her own glass and took another shot before placing the bottle back down and smiling. "okay so is everyone playing?"

everyone nodded their head with a hesitant nod from armin.

"jaeger sit up, i need a clear view of who's going after who, and with your lazy ass sitting like that i can't tell." hitch snapped her fingers at eren from her spot below him, hitting his leg until he groaned and sat up, scooting backwards until he was upright. he ran a hand through his hair to try and tame the loose hairs in the front of his head but it was no use.

"so we all take turns asking questions, if you can't think of one then we'll just skip you. every single time you have done something you take half a shot." hitch leaned into your ear to speak specifically to you, "cause if it was a whole shot i'm blacking out by the end of this night." she burst out into laughter, jean rolling his eyes at her. "i'm going first!"

"hitch what haven't you done?" connie smirks, crossing his arm. "don't you have to mention something you haven't done?"

hitch waved connie off with a glare. "never have i ever cheated, connie." she emphasized connie's name, her comment mostly directed to him and he returned with a confused look, before he realized she was asking in regards to the game.

no ones fingers went down, hitch letting out a giggle. "so no one takes a half a shot, huh? ______ your turn."

you thought for a second about something you haven't done, before opening your mouth. "never have i ever had a threesome." no fingers went down.

"wow, not even your finger went down hitch." eren's voice spoke, a smirk danced across his face that you wanted to smack off just because. seriously you couldn't put your finger on it, it was something about him that just irritated you so much, and you couldn't pinpoint it either. you'd keep composure for tonight though, for jean.

"shut up eren. jean boy! it's you turn."

"never have i ever kissed a stranger." jean huffed at the pet name given by hitch.

hitch and eren's finger went down and they exchanged glances before starting to laugh. "eren! are you talking about that random girl at that party we went to a couple months ago?" hitch spoke through her laughter when eren nodded his head.

both you and mikasa rolled your eyes and you let out a huff of annoyance, for no particular reason. hitch pour and passed eren half a shot, both of them downing the liquid at the same time before shaking their heads.

"my turn!" connie exclaimed. "never have i ever kissed someone that's the same gender."

"connie you definitely have." eren laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"why would i say it if i have? i haven't, you probably did! put your finger down!" the boys didn't even acknowledge historia and hitch's fingers going down until reiner spoke.

"it was definitely ymir." he chuckled to historia who put her hand over her face.

"stop!" she squealed out of embarrassment. before taking the shot hitch handed to her.

"my turn!" sasha repeated connie's words, stuffing a couple pieces of candy into her mouth before speaking again, "never have i ever had a one night stand."

a plethora of fingers went down, this included you, jean, eren, hitch, reiner, and historia. "shots, shots, shots, shots!" hitch chanted laughing before filling everyone's cup with half of a shot, sitting back down. "historia, i didn't know you had it in you, and you either _____." she smiled poking your sides causing you to squirm away. "anyways your go, historia."

"okay, um.... never have i ever... sent nudes?" her statement came out more like a question. your finger went down along with jean's, eren's, reiner's and hitch's, who proceeded to fill cups again.

"historia i'm surprised you haven't." hitch filled historia's cup wiggling her eyebrows at her. "i bet yours would be so bomb too, like your so cute and small and your boobs are like perfect-"

"hitch!" historia's hand slapped over her mouth in further embarrassment as she cut hitch off before she could go on any longer.

"reiner, your go."

"never have i ever... dated someone just to make someone else jealous."

jean, hitch, mikasa and eren's finger went down. eren seemingly uncomfortable. "wait, okay let's talk about this one—" hitch spoke. "jean who did you date and who were you trying to make jealous?"

jean let out a puff of slight annoyance. "you don't know her and i'm not saying who i was trying to make jealous."

"why? cause they're in this room?" hitch raised her eyebrow earning a hard glare from jean who didn't deny it, only flipping her off and muttering a "shut up".

"eren how about you?" eren stretched his arms out, the hem of his white shirt rising up to reveal a little bit of his stomach, before he let his hands back down. "uh, it was mina carolina, from school, but i'm not saying who i was trying to make jealous."

"you guys are some pussies," hitch drunk her half shot. "mikasa? im surprised."

"i'm not telling." mikasa simply stated.

"well then what about you, hitch?" you asked.

"two things, none of you guys know who the person i dated was, and anyways he was a bitch, second, i was trying to make marlo jealous, but he didn't fall for it, his sweet ass." she sighed. "i need another shot after that one." you grabbed the bottle before hitch could take another shot, clicking your tongue with a shake of your head.

"marlo? the one that sasha punched that one time we had a party at school last year?" armin asked with a small laugh, remembering the event.

"yup, that marlo. you guys were talking about what i haven't done, what about eren? what hasn't he done?" hitch mumbled.

"i'm sure eren isn't as bad as you, hitch." mikasa spoke in a monotone voice.

"maybe because he doesn't tell you half of the things that he does."

before mikasa could respond back to hitch's snarky comment, eren cut in, "well for starters, never have i ever slept with someone i wasn't attracted to."

"that barely counts, you're attracted to everyone, jaeger." jean said, putting his finger down.

"shut it, horse face."

"seriously? i thought you were gonna say something way more interesting than that." hitch face palmed, putting a finger down then grabbing jean's shot glass to pour him some.

"like you said, there's not much i haven't done." eren smirked looking at his four fingers down before putting up one and flipping hitch off who reciprocated, sticking her tongue out at eren as well.

"don't get cocky, honey. mikasa your turn."

mikasa sat in silence for a moment, thinking about what she could say although she didn't have to think much, she was basically a blushing virgin, her still having all ten fingers up but one. "never have i ever been rejected."

everyone's fingers went down but hitch, historia, armin, sasha, and of course mikasa's. "i'm too hot for that shit," hitch exclaimed before you shoved her finger down.

"stop lying, let's not talk about the countless times you've cried to me over men." you smirked, hitch pushing you away in a jokingly manner, she downed her shot and poured you one as well.

"armin, your turn baby."

"well," armin fiddled with his fingers deep in thought. "um... i've never you know..."

"had sex before?" eren butt in, putting his finger down immediately. armin nodded his head and everyone's fingers went down but armin and mikasa.

the rest of the game went well, jokes thrown around, more lewd questions being asked, and by the end of it eren, jean and hitch had all their fingers down, essentially losing the game. hitch was the first one out though, clearly drunk by her demeanor.

you got up to use the restroom unannounced, the alcohol filling your bladder, but no one seemed to notice you get up and leave, everyone talking about the game that was just played. you didn't feel particularly drunk, just a little lightheaded when you stood up. you used the bathroom, and began to wash your hands until the door opened outright scaring you, a small shriek coming from your throat until you realized it was eren.

that's when you got upset.

"maybe try knocking on the door first?!" you exclaimed, putting your damp hands on your waist. "what the hell, is wrong with you?"

eren rolled his eyes and looked you up and down. "my bad. you're done though, so excuse me."

you scoffed and crossed your arms in disbelief. "how are you gonna tell me if i'm done or not, i'm in the bathroom. stand out there and wait. you're so rude." you went to the towel rack to dry off your hands then turning around to see eren still standing there. "hello? did you hear me."

eren's eyes came back up to your face and he narrowed his eyes at you. "i'm rude? how? all because i accidentally walked into the bathroom when you were in here?" he raised an eyebrow at you, and you came over to stand in front of him. you didn't miss the way his eyes flickered up and down as he watched you tell him off.

"that's not what i said, i just asked you stand out in the hallway and you literally didn't leave. can i have my privacy? what the fuck?"

"you're literally just washing your hands, stop making it a big deal."

"a big deal? im sorry that i want to use the bathroom in peace. fuck off, eren. you're so annoying."

"how am i annoying? you get mad over the stupidest things.. you're overreacting." eren stepped forward, more into the bathroom.

"guys and girls, can you both shut the fuck up?" hitch stumbled towards the bathroom door, stepping in between you and eren. "both of you are being crybabies. all of us can you hear you guys from the fucking living room."

you rested your weight on your left leg, glaring at eren who just bore his eyes into yours. you noticed he was taking the situation lighter than you, not as mad as he usually gets when the two of you argue. maybe he was drunk? you let your eyes trail over his attire, simple sweatpants and a plain shirt of his, with his chain hanging out, resting on his chest. you averted your eyes and turned towards hitch.

"he apologized ____, and eren, knock next time, hun." hitch grabs both you and eren's arms. "let's all just be civil and friendly here, and... let's play body shots!" hitch slurred with a smile.

"i still have to use the bathroom." eren said. he placed his hand at your waist and moved you backwards towards the door until your feet were behind the line that separated the hardwood from the tile. "excuse me," eren said letting go. you wanted to pull away and tell him to get off of you but you were a tad bit embarrassed at the way you overreacted, not to mention you liked the feeling of his warm hands on your cold skin. "i'll come play in a second." he shut the door.

eren tended to himself, using the bathroom as well and then washing his hands, staring at himself in the mirror for a couple minutes. he retied his loosening ponytail, the same couple strands sticking out in the front and then adjusted his shirt and necklace. he shook his head, alcohol buzzing through his veins luckily he wasn't too drunk yet, and was still pretty stable but he knew hitch wouldn't die down on the alcohol, so he was bound to be fairly drunk by the end of the night, despite being a heavyweight. his hands still buzzed from the way they felt on your skin, but he quickly shook the thought away. clearly, it was just the alcohol talking for itself.

right?

you were leaning against jean on the kitchen counter as hitch explained the rules of the next game you guys would play for your entertainment. you were sure it was mostly for hitch's and to keep herself under the influence.  you could only imagine the impounding headache she was going to have, and you could envision yours too. after all you did have a good amount of shots at this point.

hitch sliced the lime into four pieces. "since mikasa and armin aren't playing, we only have to use one lime." she held up the sliced lime. "so remember, salt, shot, and then lime. you have to put the lime in your mouth and hold it there for the other person, okay? so don't pussy out."

you were skeptical about the game. it was just a sexual way to take a shot; you pour salt on a body part, lick it off, take a shot and then suck on the lime. you guessed you were in it for the thrill. "you don't have to play if you don't want to." jean looked down at you from your spot next to him and rubbed your shoulder, watching your demeanor.

"don't encourage her not to play!" hitch shook her head at jean. "we need as many people as possible so we have more players, plus we're all only going once so it doesn't matter." she used the wheel app on her phone to pick a person at random, and pick a body part at random as well.

"it's fine jean, i'm good, i'll play, just a little drunk." you murmured with a small smile, standing up straight.

"historia and," hitch spun the wheel again, seeing what boy it would land on. "and jean! ooooh," she giggled. "let's see what body part." another spin of the wheel and it landed on shoulder.

historia began to tie her hair back and said a small "i'm scared," before giggling as well and propping herself up on the kitchen counter. hitch began to pour the salt on the crevice between her neck and shoulder, historia leaning back in the slightest so the salt wouldn't roll down.

"don't put too much." jean spoke, stepping forward to stand in-front of historia.

jean simply licked up the salt slowly and impassively, holding underneath her shoulders to keep her upright. historia's eyes widened in the slightest and hitch cheered her on until jean let up and grabbed the shot of whiskey next to him downing it in one go. he blinked a couple times letting the alcohol settle before connecting his lips to the lime sat in historia's mouth and sucking on it before making a sour face and pulling away, taking the lime with him before spitting it in the trash. a mantra of claps arose from hitch, sasha, connie and you, everyone chuckling at his last reaction.

"what did it feel like?" hitch asked but didn't let historia answer before going, "i can't wait until my turn, can i just go next?" she spun the wheel from the app and it landed on reiner, her proceeding with her turn, the same thing repeating with her chest, except reiner placing the glass between her breasts, tilting the cup up to drink it when it was time to take the shot. hitch spoke aimlessly, cheering reiner on and adjusting her top afterwards with a giggle. "i'm literally gonna be so drunk!" she exclaimed, although she had to have been the drunkest one in the room already.

"okay, next," with another spin of the wheel hitch's eyes widened as she stared down at her phone before bursting out into laughter and tugging connie by his onesie. "connie look at this shit!" connie glanced over her shoulder before a surprised look danced across his face. you tried watching to see who he would look at to give you a hint of who were the next contenders but he avoided all gazes and held in his laughter, unlike hitch.

"who is it?" you asked out of pure curiosity and slight annoyance, causing hitch's laughter to roar louder. you stood on your tippy toes from your position beside jean to see if you could catch a glimpse of her phone but it was not visible causing you to step down, rolling your eyes.

"____," hitch tried to subside her giggles but they kept up, her clamping her hand over eren's shoulder for support who looked down at her a just as confused expression as you. her phone was faced down to the ground so he couldn't see who's name it landed on either, although his curiosity got the best of him and he grabbed her wrist to see the phone for himself. hitch pulled away hastily but it wasn't fast enough. "chill!" she spoke through her fit.

"and me?" eren questioned. you raised your eyebrow and eyes began to land on you in question of your reaction to the pairing. you weren't sure how to feel. of course eren and you were two ends of a stick and bickered accordingly but you couldn't help but find him attractive. you knew your stubbornness probably wouldn't let him even touch you in the slightest, let alone take a shot off your body, especially with a public audience. you didn't want them to think twice about your dislike for eren.

"i'm not doing it." you huffed, crossing your arms and almost sneering at eren.

"i mean you guys don't have to do it if you don't want to." jean repeated himself like earlier, placing a hand on your shoulder in a brotherly manner. he was still watching for a reaction from you, the only thing giving him a hint was the way your eyebrow twitched, and the questioning glance you were giving eren. hitch rolled her eyes before she grabbed her phone back from him.

"they literally hate each other of course they're not going to do it." connie chimed in.

"yeah, eren you don't have to do this." mikasa added as well quite sternly, hinting to eren that it was best for him not to either way.

eren gave her a side glance before looking at you for any sign. "i mean i'm down. it's just a stupid shot." he avoided eye contact with anybody in the room, his eyes darting around instead while playing with the loose strands of hair in the front of his head. "i couldn't give a fuck." he added, then crossing his arms as well.

"jaeger boy getting bold, huh?" reiner laughed from his position leaning against the cabinets to the side of the kitchen. eren rolled his eyes in response.

"_____ please just do it! it's just a game and it's only one time— you're literally so boring." hitch's words came out muffled, her hand covering her mouth as she spoke. "remember what i told you earlier, you just need to let go tonight. okay, eren is hot too— so just,"

"okay, hitch." you cut her off abruptly not wanting to hear more of her mouth until you realized what you just agreed to. you watched erens eyes widen in the slightest and his upper lip upturn slightly. you hoped you didn't boost his ego, you still hated his guts, you just wanted hitch to stop her rambling.

"what? seriously? get on the island then!" hitch grabbed your hand and you pulled away so you could climb on top of the island counter yourself with a small pout while hitch spun the wheel on her phone until it landed on 'stomach'. she turned the phone towards you then turned it towards eren. "stomach." she said with a smile.

"you guys don't even like each other, how is this happening?" jean mutters, but hitch caught his words and gave him her own roll of her eyes.

"just let it happen, jean, they're both drunk, they'll probably forget about this tomorrow." she whispers back quite loud. you look at her before laying down on your back with a glare, you didn't think you were really that drunk.

eren climbed off of the counter he was sitting on and made his way over to the island. "hopefully you still hate me after this." he snickers before grabbing the hem of your tank top and sliding it up your stomach until it was bundled right under your breasts. you hated the way his touch sent sparks on your skin.

"shut the fuck up and get it over with." you hiss back as he pours the salt over your lower abdomen, using his free hand to pull your shorts down in the slightest so they wouldn't get in the way.

"open up." eren's hand lingered in front of your face with a quarter of a lime for you to hold in your mouth. you glared at him for the umpteenth time and grabbed it with your hand, placing the sour fruit in your mouth to hold with the rest of it jutting out. eren poured himself some of the brown liquid into his shot glass from earlier, setting it down beside him. he didn't even warn you before he dove down right above your pelvic area, his warm tongue singeing your stomach, and you couldn't help but let out the slightest gasp, looking down at eren. one of his hands was pressed against the table the other one placed on your upper stomach, a hold on your shirt to keep it up, but respectfully (or unconsciously) he avoided your boob, his eyes trained on the substance on your stomach. another lick, and another, and another, and you didn't even realize you were biting your lip to keep from embarrassing yourself in front of your comrades. eren let the salt dissolve on his tongue and once no more resided on your stomach he pulled back with a smack of his lips, an unreadable expression on his face before grabbing the shot and downing it in one go quickly, shaking his head back and forth so it could go down smoother. his hands moved down to either side of you before he bent over you and avoided your eyes again, not to mention you did too, while sucking on the lime that was still being held by your lips. your eyes fluttered and you looked at him for a second until he disconnected. the last thing you felt was his upper lip brush against yours, sending a tingly feeling up your spine.

you sat up abruptly, bumping eren's head in the process causing him to grimace at you and stand up straight. you hopped off the table and pulled your shirt down, hitch grabbing your arm and pulling you into her grip. "you did so good, o-m-g. yay for alcohol, it's bringing my friends together!" she laughed as you pulled away from her and rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and crossing the kitchen to grab a paper towel, wiping at your stomach.

"yay for alcohol!" sasha repeats with a giggle clapping her hands causing connie, hitch and the rest besides mikasa and jean to join along.

"i didn't think she'd actually do it." historia murmured with raised eyebrows at what just took place.

"me neither.." armin responded, his hand covering his mouth with large eyes as well while clapping his hands softly from his spot seated on the counter.

"eren, you didn't have to do it you know, it's just a game." eren turned to mikasa at the sound of her voice and narrowed his eyes slightly, before shrugging it off and murmuring an "i'm drunk." causing mikasa to scoff.

jean watched you cross back over to him with a cautious face. now you could feel the alcohol buzzing. "you okay?" he murmured, a wary look on his face. was it really that shocking to everyone that you could have some fun? or was it the fact that it was with eren jaeger?

you gave him a questioning glance and then look at jean, shuffling your feet. "i'm fine, stop making it a big deal." jean narrowed his eyes as the remaining two carried on with the game, sasha and connie going by default and having planned to do it together anyways. after connie wiped his stomach, as he had sasha do what eren did to you. afterwards everyone decided to pile back into the living room wanting to end the night off with a movie. hitch, of course insisted on bringing the leftover alcohol in its bottle even though armin didn't think it was a good idea, let alone anybody thinking it was a good idea.

"pour me a little more hitch." eren said, seated behind you on the couch while hitch sat in front of you on the floor, bottle of alcohol between the two of you while connie laid against the back of the couch beside him. everyone's seating seemed to change, the group collapsing wherever they deemed fit, but you of course stuck with hitch. jean minded his own trying to select a scary movie for the group, eyes trained on the tv in front of him.

"so you want to get drunk drunk?" hitch slurred using her hand to try and uncap the bottle of liquor. you mentally shook your head and fiddled with hitch's glass that was sitting beside the liquor bottle so she wouldn't fill her own glass again. you were drunk, but not drunk enough to not take care of your friends. plus you wouldn't want hitch passing out either way.

"mikasa, help me pick out a movie?" jean said, eyes looking to the side at the ebony haired girl who stared blankly at the screen, eyes flickering between the people in front of her and the blue light emitting from the tv. she wasn't oblivious to the reason jean was asking, her demeanor made her just choose to ignore it.

"i don't have any suggestions. try searching up some recommended movies or something." jean shrugged his shoulders then whipped out his phone to oblige, meanwhile, eren reached over your shoulder, hand around his glass he carried around all night for hitch to fill. her hands were shaky and she tried her best to concentrate while slowly filling up the cup until eren pulled the glass away, a couple drops of alcohol pouring onto the floor before you tilted the bottle back upright for her.

"hitch, you're making a mess." you grumbled, then taking the bottle and closing it for her before she did anything further.

"eren you should stop drinking so much, or like get some food in your system." sasha suggested eyeing the drink in his hand. he narrowed his eyes at her then roller his eyes sipping on some of the new drink unwary.

"i'm good, i'll eat later."

"no seriously jaeger; you and hitch are the main ones who finished that bottle," connie pulled out a chip as well eyeing it then shoving it in his mouth then leaning forward to nudge eren, gesturing to the bowl for him to eat too.

"connie, stop." eren's lips twitched as he tried not to smile drunkly, swatting connie away and pushing him slightly, connie getting shoved back a little by his small push and him retorting as well. "you haven't ate anything either."

connie laughed and shoved him back, raising a fist jokingly to make eren flinch who instinctively caught connie's wrist with his hand, connie fighting back with a laugh. connie gave eren a hard shove and you flinched when you felt the liquid of eren's drink splash onto your shoulder and shirt.

"eren— what the fuck!" you exclaimed, eyes turning towards you as you stared down at your shirt, hands open at your side, the feeling of the sweet liquid dripping down your back and down the cleavage of your breasts, the feeling steadily uncomfortable. the way the liquid seeped into your clothing wasted no time bubbling up your immediate anger. "dude," you were heated, standing up slowly. "y'all play too much!"

"eren look what you did!" hitch's eyes widened, her trying to refrain from laughing in the midst of her drunken state while eren and connie just stared at your rising figure in shock.

"yeah eren, look what you did." connie mocked earning a hard glare from eren who flipped him off.

"guys it's not funny." historia gave both of them a disapproving look before watching you walk off to the kitchen, an evident attitude in your step until you disappeared around the corner.

"and you wonder why she fucking hates you." jean scoffed with an agreeing nod from reiner, while jean finally clicked a random horror film that looked scary enough since his phone didn't give him good results, his irritation at the night going downhill not failing to grow.

"shut it kirchstein, that was connie's fault not mine."

"what? you're the one who had your drink above her like that. i was just playing with you, right sasha?" sasha shrugged her shoulders at connie until he pouted and she snorted, nodding her head. "see!" he exclaimed. "that wasn't my fault."

"it doesn't matter who's fault it is." historia let her hands out of armin's hair, crossing them. "she's clearly upset, and it doesn't help that eren has been messing with her all night."

"dude, what?" eren was baffled by historia's response.

"eren didn't do anything?" mikasa's voice came out in a more questioning manner, of course quick to defend eren in her monotone voice.

historia narrowed her eyes, not seeing how eren or mikasa couldn't see the fault in his actions. "me and hitch heard them arguing in the bathroom. i'm the one who told hitch to go get them to stop because jean was getting irritated."

"why was horseface getting mad?" eren rolled his eyes.

"because you guys are always arguing! that shit is annoying, she clearly doesn't like you eren so just stay out of her way." jean exasperated, resting his chin on his palm.

"do you have a crush on her or something, huh? we were just cool like last year, it's normal for us to argue at this point." eren's feeble attempt to defend himself clearly failed, both eren, jean and even armin looking upset with him.

"that doesn't mean anything, and no i don't. that's my best friend... so shut the fuck up." jean flipped eren off as well, trying his best to focus on the movie he aimlessly picked out.

"well she did the body shots with me? she was just fine seconds ago." and eren didn't mention how you didn't slap him silly for pushing you aside the door earlier, or how he delved in that memory a bit as well.

"because i told her to have fun and put up with your ass for the day. not everyone thinks you're the shit eren, and she definitely doesn't."

eren's irritation was rising, jean's likewise, and he huffed, laying back into the couch, putting as much space between him and connie as possible in clear anger that he was struggling to control, especially with being drunk. he became more reckless and obnoxious, and everyone knew so. yet he knew somewhere in the back of his head was that he was in somewhat of the wrong.

armin patted his head to flatten down any flyaways before speaking, "historia is right, eren. she's upset so go apologize— or at least help her out." sasha and connie nodded their heads in agreement.

another puff of breath from eren before he reluctantly got up, everyone's eyes on him making him uncomfortable. he rather be a around someone he didn't like (yet found attractive in the least) then be in an environment that wasn't fond of him at the moment.

eren rounded the corner until his eyes landed on your frame, sat on the edge of the counter desperately wiping at your top with vigor in efforts to dry it. you had at least got the sticky substance off your skin while your were working at it. you didn't even notice eren standing there, simply staring, not even knowing what to do now that his friends coerced him into the kitchen. he maneuvered over to the sink and that's when you noticed his tall figure, your face immediately twisting into an angered expression.

"what do you want now?"

eren turned around with a wet napkin and began coming over to you gingerly. he stumbled over, arm stretched out to begin patting at your top awkwardly with a grumble. "they told me to come and help you."

"eren get the hell off of me." you recoiled in panic and vexation, your hand flying up to shoo eren away.

"i'm trying to help you." he spit out, his breath beginning to get heavy, and you could smell the alcohol on it your nose twitching at the scent, but then again the smell of alcohol was still present on your shirt as well.

"i don't need your help." you rolled your eyes as he continued to try and wipe at your shirt stains. the gesture was... unlikely for him, maybe he was feeling guilt curdle inside him? although at the moment you didn't care, continuing to try to get him out of your vicinity and tend to the accident on you as well.

"can you just-" but you didn't give him a chance to finish, your frustration getting the best of you and your hand flying across his face. you didn't even register that you hit him until you saw the way his head flew to the side, tufts of his brown hair flying the opposite direction, the sound of the impact going in one ear and coming out the other just as fast.

he stood still for just a moment trying to process the stinging pain on his left cheek, his thoughts jumbled as the alcohol swam through his system. immediate regret began to dance its way up you as you watched the way anger twinkled in his eyes before he let out a small incredulous laugh. "oh... i'm sorry—" you gasped, and then flinched when eren's hand flew up to pin the hand that slapped him up against the cabinet door above the counter you were still perched on. "eren, what the fuck? let go of me," you struggled to get him to let his grip go, his eyes flickering from your face to the water like stains littered on your tank top, then to your legs; spread on either side of him as he stood in between them, his grip unconsciously tightening on your wrist. he went back up to be met with your timid expression that you tried to mask with the furrow of your brows although your lip still quivered, especially when met with the darkened look of eren's eyes.

"thought that shit was funny, yeah?" he mumbled lowly, shifting a little bit to get somewhat closer to your body as you watched him from above with bird eyes that darted from side to side to watch him cautiously.

you couldn't lie— you were a little scared, which frightened you that you were scared. you, the only one in your close circle that constantly picked at eren, constantly got into petty arguments with him, and weren't afraid to constantly call him out on the ridiculous things he would say... you were all of a sudden scared? maybe it was his demeanor, you thought to yourself, the way he didn't rise his voice up at you after you slapped him, much like earlier when you were yelling at him in the bathroom, the way he didn't shy away from a intimate game with you, the way he was looking you up and down like you were prey— it was all unusual, all frightening to you to see him move like that, not to mention the vice like grip he had on your poor wrists at the moment.

"eren," you whimpered, moving your hips in an effort to push him away, but your movements only amped him up. he moved your other wrist so that both of yours were gathered in his large hand, then placed his now free hand on the counter beside you. he didn't even realize the way he was leaning in closer and closer to your neck, until you cringed when you could feel his breath right on your shoulder, panic ensuing once more, especially regarding the fact that your shirt indeed had see through splotches on it, blame the liquid.

"you've been trying me all day..." he started, voice low and as if he was talking to your neck, not even looking up at you, his eyes trained to that same spot. "first you were running your mouth about me in the kitchen,"

he heard that?

"then you were getting all up in my face in that bathroom, and all those noises you were making when we were playing body shots..."

"eren, just let—"

"and then you've been walking around in those little ass shorts, and this top all night.."

you didn't think he was just talking about you upsetting him anymore.

eren's hand slid behind your body until his hand found your lower back, scooting you closer to his while maintaining his grip on your wrist, but pulling your hands away from the cabinets. he let his hips circle against yours so you could feel him. "you feel that?" he asked you, his lips now ghosting over the space between your shoulder and neck. "you did that."

what you can only describe as being some kind of shudder that made your body twitch had ran through you at the feeling of his lips connecting with your skin, the icky feeling of your shirt was barely prevalent with the emotions running through you, more specifically down to your core. his hips stopped meeting yours but his kisses continued upwards until he pressed one to your jaw, nibbling at the skin. "_____," he breathed out, his eyes still holding that dark haze when they met with yours as you looked down at him.

"let me fuck you good."

you were giving in.

you were giving in to the boy you supposedly hated, (in your head) you were giving in to all the arguments you ever had with him, you were giving in to the betrayal that your friends might feel when they find out about your endeavors but, god— if eren's dick straining his sweats didn't feel so good against you, or if his lips kissing up your neck and staying idle beside your lips didn't make you just want to turn your head and smash yours against his...

yup, you were giving in.

you turnt your head slightly so that eren's lips could collide with yours and he reciprocated immediately, finally letting go of your wrists and letting his other hand fall behind you to your ass so he could pull you flush against him, despite the still slight wetness of your shirt rubbing on his. your mouths tasted like all the alcohol from the night but it wasn't a big deal in your semi-drunken state.

eren tapped your ass to signal for you to wrap your arms around his neck and so you did, him sliding your body off of the counter and then all but throwing you over a little more so that your upper half was looking down at the floor behind while he held onto your legs, carrying you over his shoulder. "eren, put me down if you're gonna carry me like this i can walk normally!" you hissed loudly slapping his back making him chuckle.

"wouldn't you be embarrassed if everyone heard you about right now?" eren stopped in his tracks to give you a chance to quiet down before he left the kitchen, and you took that opportunity, mentally shrinking down in his grip out of somewhat chagrin.

eren's plan was to slip past the living room and go straight towards the stairs, as they were to the left of the living room, and unless the ones occupying it turned around they wouldn't be able to see the two of you, besides whoever was sat on the couch to the right. eren began walking out of the kitchen, and you prayed nobody was looking, your vision limited to only the floor below you.

you sighed when you felt your body rise a bit, meaning eren made it to the stairs, until you jolted at the sound of mikasa voice from her position on the couch, "eren—" but he cut her off quickly with a mere,

"we'll be back in a minute."

the trek up the stairs somewhat felt like forever to you, your stomach beginning to flip at the thought of being fucked silly by someone you deemed you hated, the mere idea was pretty outlandish to you, but you knew it was quite real when eren opened the door to a particularly blank room.

of course sat the bed and a nightstand on either side, but the room was lackluster, except for a few generic paintings in a couple corners of the room and a rug detailing the carpet. eren must've knew where to go since he was generally close to jean, having been even closer to him and his family during his middle school years.

eren wasted no time throwing you on the bed, your body hitting the surprisingly soft bedspread, and you almost felt bad for the wash it would have to go through when eren was done with you; because you knew he wasn't gonna be gentle.

he also didn't waste anytime stripping away at his clothes his shirt already strewn onto the floor and his pants halfway down his legs already, while you on the other hand were already hesitant to take off the messed up garment you were still wearing, and of course eren had to comment on this; "come on, you still wanna sit there smelling like whiskey? take off your shirt." you rolled your eyes at him and you swore you saw a smirk over his face when you began to pull your tank top over your head, now only sitting there in your undergarments and shorts, criss cross on the bed.

eren strode over and grabbed your jaw harshly, pulling you in for another drunken kiss, his other hand coming up to palm at your breasts while you measly reciprocated his kiss, it being more clashing teeth and tongue then anything. once his lips were removed from yours he let the thumb on your jaw swipe over your bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal your teeth before leaning back in and letting his own teeth nibble the skin beside your ear. "i want you to suck my dick." he said blatantly, looking at you once he pulled away. you would have never thought; as many times as the two of you would banter back and forth telling each other to 'suck my dick', never did you think there would ever be a day where he said it literally. "on the floor." his voice came out more like a command making you side eye him, and cross your arms.

"why should—"

"on the floor." he repeated, making himself comfortable on the bed he was sat on while you reluctantly slid off the bed to the floor in front of him, your hands on your knees while he pulled down his boxers, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen, sitting pretty. your eyes widened, you weren't sure what you were expecting; of course eren like many others bragged about his size in a joking manner but you never took him seriously, nevertheless did you take any of your guy friends seriously. he let out a small laugh at your expression before you realized you were staring for a little longer than you should have been. luckily, he didn't make another snarky remark, instead tapping your cheek with fingers that weren't wrapped around him, signaling for you to open your mouth. "open up." he repeated for the second time that night.

"that's your favorite line, huh?" you huffed, taking him into your hands. he ignored your comment and instead placed his now free hand onto the back of your head ushering you down his length with no caution, causing you to choke slightly, your hand flying up to his knees to steady yourself and push off in the slightest. you made sure your nails were digging into his skin in response, but you weren't sure if the feeling was even pervasive, as the only sound he let out was a groan when he felt his cock be engulfed by the heat of your mouth. the hand holding your head began gripping your hair and you winced at the newfound pressure although it was soon forgotten when eren began bobbing your head up and down, the feeling of your throat being used running through your whole body.

"yeah," he moaned out as you began finding your own pace, now taking one of your hands and wrapping them around what you couldn't reach; mainly so he wouldn't try to push your limits. "you're surprisingly good at this," he choked out, and he looked down at you to catch you glaring right back up at him, a clear grimace on your face.

you pulled away from his dick with a pop and began using your fist to pump him lazily, staring up at him with a bored expression. "you should really watch your mouth when i'm sucking you off." you retorted making him let out another one of his small chuckles and letting go of his grip on your hair for a second to run his fingers across your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your swollen lips once again.

"you wouldn't try nothing."

"don't count on it."

and once again his hand returned to your hair ushering you to take him back in your mouth and you did, but this time he was in more control, bucking his hips up into your mouth ardently and throwing his head back as you treated him and pushed him towards his high.

you couldn't help yourself, the feeling of eren using your throat so carelessly sent a plethora of emotions right to your core, and you let one of your hands drift past your shorts, rubbing yourself through your underwear and feeling how aroused you were, making you let out a small whimper around eren. he looked down at the sound and noticed you touching yourself, biting his lip and slowing his assault on your throat. "you're enjoying this aren't you?" he lifted your head up and a line of saliva was connected from his member to your bottom lip, making him smirk. "you dirty slut..."

you were in no position to deny it when you had your hands halfway down your pants, so you just rolled your eyes and connected your mouth back to his tip, giving a particularly hard  suck that made him hiss and his hips stutter. "you're lucky i'm even letting you touch yourself right now..." he groaned out. "now, make me cum."

and you followed through for the most part, going back down on him, letting your tongue work him up and through, while his head held you right where he wanted to until you felt his seed shoot into the back of your throat making you cough and pull away, swallowing it anyways.

eren panted out and let go of your hair, balancing himself on the bed while using his other hand to rub himself through his orgasm while you climbed onto the bed behind him, beginning to strip your shorts, eren's eyes following along to watch you pull the fabric over your legs and onto the floor and unclasp your bra, throwing it alongside your shorts. his gaze went down to the wet spot on your underwear and you didn't miss the way his tongue slipped overtop of his lips. "so you like it when i talk to you like that, hm?" he hummed, pulling up his boxers and shimmying his sweats the rest of the way off his own legs.

eren crawled between your legs, grabbing onto your ankles and pulling your forth so that your head hit the pillow and you were now under him, his hands making their way to your thighs, grabbing and palming at them harshly before making his way to the wet patch on your panties."i bet you can't wait until i fuck this little cunt of yours." he murmurs pressing his fingers against your clit making your legs squeeze around his sides, a small gasp eliciting from you.

you moved your hand down to try and help your relieve some of the ache inside of you but eren was quicker; grabbing your wrist once more and slamming into the bed, shaking his head at you while you lolled your head back and let your hips rise up in anticipation. "look how greedy..." he taunted.

"jesus, eren, do something if you're not gonna let me," you whined, jutting your hips into the air causing eren to snicker but begin to pull down your underwear anyways. you let out a breath of relief at the feeling of the cool air hitting your wet pussy, and that breath was brought right back, getting caught in your throat when you felt eren's fingers slide against your folds.

"you're so wet... if i knew i could get you like this i would've fucked you a long time ago." he finally slid a finger into you and you sighed deeply, but that one finger wasn't enough and eren's pace was tortuously slow.

"eren, please,"

"you're begging already?" he smirked down at you and continued to pump his one stupid finger in and out of you slowly and you whined, your hips moving up in down trying to make yourself feel more full. "beg me some more then, ask for another finger, and be nice."

you put an arm over your forehead and furrowed your eyebrows, looking angrily at eren. you knew you couldn't find for dominance with eren, especially with the way he was acting with you at the moment, but you didn't want to beg either; yet how else would you get your pleasure? you had to put your pride aside for a minute and beg. "eren, please."

eren scoffed and raised an eyebrow at you. "that's all? i could stop right—"

"fuck, eren, please add another finger, please?" you huffed, and eren rolled his eyes at you but added another finger making you groan and clench around the digits. "yes, yes..."

eren made himself comfortable, leaning down on the bed and positioning himself somewhat beside you, his palm supporting his head and your leg trapped underneath his armpit now, while he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you until he curled them and made you buck your hips into the air. "uh huh, right there!" you yelled out when he hit your sweet spot.

eren moved his fingers away from the spot and continued his normal pace causing your hand to fly down grab his wrist. "eren, go back!" you cried out and he ignored your pleads.

"you can do better begging."

my god, what did he want from you?

"eren, oh my god, please just do that again."

"not good enough."

"eren—"

"you don't sound like you really want it."

this boy was gonna be the death of you.

"i want your fingers... please, hit that spot again," you twisted his wrist so his fingers would point upwards inside of you again. "right there, eren... please, for me?" you begged him, letting your hips grind down into his fingers and you almost choked out when you felt them hit that same spot. you were so close, you could feel that bubbly feeling in your stomach and your jaw dropped open, you were so close, you were so close you were—

he stopped.

he fucking stopped.

"eren!" you screamed your claws once again digging into his wrist with a sob. "why, why, i was almost there!"

"i know." he said blatantly, watching you squirm from beside him that same bored expression you had earlier detailing his face tauntingly.

"then go!" you sobbed and slapped at his upper arm repeatedly until you felt his hand back in your hair tugging harshly, your head jerking back and him now closer to your face. "please..." you felt like you were saying for the umpteenth time that night.

he leaned towards your ear, letting his hand loosen from your head. "talk to me nicely before i leave you here to get yourself off." he mumbled before letting his fingers continue to drive inside of you while your hips pushed down to meet them to build up that same feeling from earlier, this time eren not stopping until you let out a scream of his name, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and you creaming on his fingers, your juices coating them, causing a lewd sound to elicit as he pulled them out.

your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath, but you were quickly forced to breath through your nose when eren's wet fingers entered your mouth making you taste your own release. "suck," he told you, and you were too tired to try to do anything slick back, letting your tongue swirl around them and pulling off giving him the opportunity to come down and kiss you, slipping in his tongue quickly so he could taste you as well. "good job." he watched as your body still convulsed slightly from your orgasm but that didn't stop him from pulling you by your waist and flipping your body over effortlessly.

"'m gonna fuck you so stupid."

eren wastes no time pulling down his boxers for the second time and kicking them away while you raised your hips just wanting him buried inside of you as soon as possible. he came up behind you,  using his palm to push down your back some more until it was arched completely, running his hand back up your spine and giving your ass a good slap. he rubs his dick against your folds teasingly, waiting until you let out a whimper to push his head in slowly, both of you groaning simultaneously. "fuck," eren sighs, continuing to push himself in until he bottomed out. "so tight,"

eren begins to pull in and out of you slowly, getting used to the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, his face scrunched up in pleasure much likes yours, your hands gripping the sheets so tightly and you couldn't help but moan out eren's name. he snaked his hand up to your neck, leaning forward so he was pressed against your back until he pulled you up so you were flush against him. he began to pound into you more fervently, your ass clapping against his lower abdomen, the two of you moaning out together.

"shit," eren kissed your shoulder and bit down slightly harder making you wince against him and his hands tighten around your neck tantalizingly. "you like when i fuck you like this? when i use you like this?" his lips returned to the spot he bit, sucking a hard mark and then coming back up, pulling you against him harder while he fucked into you harder. you tried to suck in a breath but his grip around your throat was strong, so your jaw hung open no air coming in until you tapped eren's thigh causing him to release his grip so you could suck in a breath. he resorted to give you a break, his hand going up until they had you opening your mouth up so he could place his fingers in your mouth, holding it open and spitting into it making you whimper and clench around him. he pulled the digits out and let his hand trail back up your hair for the umpteenth time and pulling your head to the side so your neck was bare to him, letting him suck dark marks into your soft skin while he drilled you.

"cause you're a whore for shit like this, right? letting me spit in your mouth like that..."and the words coming out of his mouth made his hips stutter and groan, him finally letting your body fall back into an arch while he moved his hands to your hips and pulled you back on him while he fucked into you more, nails digging into your skin, and you could already see the bruises you would have the day after. the pleasure quickly was becoming too much, the feeling of eren's saliva sitting on your tongue, the way each one of his strokes his so deep inside of you, the way he treated you so roughly all had tears collecting in the corners until you were screaming for the second time that night, your hand gripping impossibly tight at the sheets and one flying backwards trying to find eren's thigh to grab at as well while your orgasm crashed over you again abruptly.

"eren!" you sobbed out letting eren pull the hand that was searching for his leg back so your head was slightly lifted off the bed, your breasts bouncing with each of his thrusts.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum.." eren panted, feeling your walls pulse around him as you came, soaking him even further. his forehead was sweaty and causing the flyaways in the front of his bun to stick to his forehead as well as his abs to glisten in the slightest from behind you.

"cum inside me..." you blabbered out, jaw still strung open from the pleasure flooding your body.

eren hissed as he felt himself climax as well, cumming inside you and filling you up, his movements stopping and his chest resting against your back, one hand on the bed to hold him up over you. once he was a little calmed he slid out of you and spread one of your cheeks to watch his cum attempt to drip out of you, but he stopped it, using his fingers to push it back inside of you, his mouth in an 'o' shape as he watched it, feeling himself already feeling hard again, and he still wasn't satisfied yet. "'m not done yet," he heaved out and watched as your hips fell to the bed. "one more round."

"am i that good?" you said with your finger pulling down your bottom lip as he dragged your hips down to the edge of the bed and turned your body over harshly. seeing your fucked out face in front of him was such a turn on, tear streaks down the side of your face, your lips swollen and a crease between your brows from eren's constant onslaught.

"shut the fuck up." eren slipped right back into you, feeling his own cum around him that he forgot about for a brief moment. he thrusts into you harder, making your body jolt repeatedly, your tits bouncing and him grabbing onto one, twirling his fingers around your nipple before grabbing at you breast hard making you hiss and grab his upper arm, dragging your nails down it.

"make me." you snapped back with your nail still embedded in his skin.

eren gave you a surprised look at your retaliation and snaked his hand around your throat once more. "you got some nerve talking to me like that when i just fucked your lights out."

you twisted your face and took it upon yourself to spit at him, your saliva landing on his cheek and he gave you a look of shock making you smirk at him until his eyes glowered over, his hand around your throat coming up to slap your face like you did to him earlier, and in the same manner your head flew to the side. luckily, he didn't slap you too hard but you could still feel the stinging sensation filling up the side of your face. "fuck is wrong with you?"

"fuck you!" you retorted as he wiped your spit on your sternum and slapped away the hand that was clawing at his upper arm.

"aren't you already doing that dumbass?" and he gave you a brief reminder, his hips bucking up into you harshly making you let out a gasp. "i guess you forgot."

you let your hand fly over your mouth when eren's cock brushed over that same spot from earlier as he lifted your hips slightly to try to get a deeper position in efforts to cum, but you were steps ahead of him; your stomach turning as his dick hit your g-spot again and again, your vision hazing over as you climaxed for the third time, no noise even coming from your throat, eren only knowing from the way your body began twitching and the way you clamped around him.

although, that didn't stop his pace, him essentially overstimulating you.

he rode you through your high and beyond, the feeling of your wetness around him mixed with his own cum edging him forward trying to reach his own high. the feeling of his pelvis rubbing against your clit once he lowered his hips had you trying to crawl away from the overstimulation as he leaned over you feeling how close he was. "_____..." eren puffed, leaning into your neck as he continued to drill into you. "god, 'm gonna cum again..."

you couldn't even respond, trying to keep in your own cries as tears streamed down your face again while eren groaned against your neck, the vibrations being felt through your chest. his hips stuttered once more but this time he pulled out, rubbing himself a few times until his cum sputtered onto your chest and stomach, another moan being let out from him followed by another large huff of breath before he collapsed onto the bed beside you. "god... _____." you couldn't even respond, your body still shaking slightly and your eyes closed while you continued to let out small snivels and whines. his eyes trailed over to you, looking at the dried tear stains on your face, the hickeys splattered across your neck, his cum painting your chest and stomach, the bruises on your hips, your swollen clit and puffy pussy, and his cum slicked near your entrance. "i fucked you up."

eren got up and in record time came back with a wet rag that you could care less about where he got it from. he wiped you up, the feeling of the warm water comforting you, your body finally calmed down. you sat up once he left the room once more and looked around, quickly realizing you couldn't put back on your dirtied shirt. you sighed and realized you would have to go back downstairs to grab one where your bag filled with your belongings was. eren came back in the room and grabbed your underwear and shorts for you, handing you the ladder and stuffing your panties into his pocket.

"what are you doing?" you asked looking at the undergarment hanging out of his sweats that he had put on earlier before leaving the room.

"keeping these." he smirked at you while you sat there with a pout.

"eren, i need those, i can't go down there... my bra and shirt are dirty and i need to grab clo--,"

"i'll go grab all your stuff for you."

"i still need my underwear." eren ignored you, shuffling out the room and heading back downstairs. once again, pretty fast, he came back in the room handing you your bag. "i'm gonna take a quick shower..." you looked up at eren who was still eyeing you, his eyes flickering to various parts of your still bare body. "are they awake?"

"everyone's knocked but armin, mikasa and surprisingly hitch, i thought she would've passed out by now. i'm pretty sure they heard us judging by the way they looked at me."

"oh..." you looked down at your bag and felt a little better about the confrontation you would have to face tomorrow. "...can you wait for me?" you asked hesitantly, eren's eyes gleaming at your question.

"yeah, i'll wait."

                                                          ❀ ❀ ❀

you were now changed out, eren having thrown the sheets and your clothes into jean's wash, which now gave you a good idea of how close he actually was to your friend, despite how much they argued much like you and eren. "you good?" eren asked, laying on the bed with a new pair of bedding on top, him laying on the duvet.

"yeah..."

"you sure? you're walking funny." you flipped him off and sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. "you ready to go back downstairs and pretend this never happened?" he asked you a slight edge to his voice even though you knew he meant it in a joking manner.

"wait, can we talk about all this first?" you turned your body to eren. "so are we still gonna pretend we hate each other or whatever? or are we cool now?"

eren pondered on your question for a minute. "depends, do you still want everyone to think we hate each other, or do you genuinely want to be cool? i mean i just fucked the sh--"

"eren, shut up." you cut him off quickly with a raise of your hand. "we can talk to the ones who are up right now because they're obviously gonna ask questions, especially hitch..."

"so what? everyone else is just gonna see us become buddy buddy?"

"we're obviously still gonna argue, eren, that isn't gonna change because of your ass... i just won't pretend i hate you so much."

"so you were pretending to hate me?"

"you're the one who wanted to fuck me."

"and you went along with it."

"this is why i hate you."

"i thought you were pretending?"

"i wasn't."

an awkward silence loomed over the two of you before you both burst out into laughter that died down quickly. "you're so stupid." you said before standing up. "c'mon, let's go."

as the two of you headed downstairs you first headed for the kitchen to drink some water before you were gonna knock out on the couch, hitch already in there bent over the sink.

"you okay?" you asked her as you headed for the fridge.

"no, my head hurts like crazy... i took a little nap and when i woke up my head was pounding."

"it was all that alcohol." you chuckled, plucking a cold water bottle from the fridge.

"yeah? and was it all that alcohol that made you go fuck jaeger? i mean i know i said he was cute... i think, but--"

"you heard that?" your eyes widened as you turned around towards her, a smile tugging at her lips.

"honey, i think we all did, half of us just tried to block it out with the movie."

you slapped your hand against your forehead, your initial plan to fall asleep on the couch then pretend nothing happened wasn't even available anymore.

"jean's gonna kill me." you muttered before opening your water bottle and taking a swig of the liquid that cooled your sore throat.

"yup, jean's gonna kill you." and you could only glare at hitch because, well... she was right.

"i'm blaming it on that stupid whiskey if he asks." you said before walking out the kitchen.

"you can't blame all your problems on alcohol!" hitch replied before you turned the corner with a shake of your head.

#eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren aot #attack on titan

[kingpreciouswrld]

Hi luv, can you do a angst to fluff Miranda Priestly imagine where Andrea comes back to Runway to confess her feelings for Miranda, but Miranda is in a relationship w/ the reader and has to choose between them. At the end Miranda chooses the reader!

Wants and Needs

Title from Drake's song -"Wants and Needs"

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Reader

Genre: Angst -> Fluff

Word count: 2k

A/N: God you know I'm a sucker for angsty Miranda 😫 I hope you like it! All mistakes are mine ;-;

__________

The phone landed on the sofa with a soft bounce as you sat back into your own chair with a sigh.

You just got a call from Nigel. He called you right when he got back from leaving Miranda’s office and told you that he saw her walking into the office.

Her being the infamous Andrea Sachs.

The young journalist was known as the one who walked away alive. And thanks to Nigel, you also knew Andrea as the girl who was in love with her ex-boss and your girlfriend, Miranda Priestly.

It wasn’t new information to those who knew the young journalist. Nigel had told you that the girl developed feelings for the editor during her tenure at Runway. So far, the girl never showed any interest in Miranda after she walked away in Paris, and you hoped it stayed that way.

Your relationship with Miranda wasn’t public and you liked it that way. Miranda wanted to keep things underwraps until the both of you were ready to face the numerous paparazzi, critics, and the unavoidable page six, but keeping things underwraps meant that no one knew the editor was taken.

There was no reason for the girl to be at Runway unless...no, no, you needed to use a wise mind. But the journalist wrote small columns in a mediocre newspaper, so why would she be in Runway’s offices?

You tried your best to not jump to conclusions but if anything, you had faith in Miranda. She didn’t like to be bothered during Runway hours unless it was a family matter so you knew she would ignore the girl.

You hoped she would.

You didn’t know much about how Miranda felt about Andrea, she never talked about it.

Either way, there was nothing you could do with the information you were given, you weren’t going to call Miranda at work,

So you just waited.

~~~~~~~

The shutting of the front door followed by heels clacking on tiled floors told you that Miranda was home.

You didn't need to check the time for it to tell you that Miranda was late, more late than usual.

You followed her movements with your hearing, never breaking your staring contest with the painting in front of you.

She was getting closer.

You didn’t have to tell her where you were, you didn't have the energy to anyway but she always came to the study to work on the book.

“Darling there you are.” Miranda bent down and pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

You responded with a hum and watched as your lover made herself comfortable on the sofa across from you.

“How was your day? Did you manage to turn in your project on time?” she asked as she put on her reading glasses before turning to the book.

You were too out of it to answer her questions. Your day was...fine, it was tolerable, but your mind was running at a thousand miles per second and it made you despondent.

Not getting a reply from you, Miranda looked up from the book, “Darling?” she asked softly, "is everything alright?"

"Hm?" Your eyes found icey blue ones that were filled with concern. "Oh, yeah–yes, everything's fine."

Satisfied with your response, Miranda sent you a soft smile before she returned her focus to the fashion pages in her lap.

The silence that followed swallowed you whole, only broken with the few scratches of Miranda's red pen and the flipping of pages.

"Why was Andrea at Runway today?"

At least you held off for longer than you thought you would.

Miranda's focus didn't falter, the only telltale sign that she heard you was the sharp inhale through her nose.

"What are you talking about darling?"

"Andrea Sachs. Why was she there?"

Miranda made no move to stop her work and you sighed,

"It's just a question Miranda."

Knowing that she couldn't get any work done until you were addressed, Miranda finally looked up at you, taking her glasses off in the process,

"If you must know, she was just there to talk."

"Okay," you nodded slowly, "talk about what?"

The white-haired editor fluffed her hair before she waved you off, "It's nothing, really."

"Miranda you never just 'talk' to someone during work let alone an ex-assistant who walked out on you. She worked for you Miranda, I thought you wouldn't be caught dead with someone like–"

"Do NOT talk about Andréa like that," Miranda snapped.

Miranda had never raised her voice at you and it made you physically flinch. She was defending Andrea.

For the first time since the relationship started, you were shaken. You couldn't read Miranda at all and it scared you.

Without warning, your mask slipped in place and you became eerily calm,

"What happened," you said quietly.

Miranda had gone back to the book albeit working slower than usual,

"The girl merely wanted to have dinner."

The puzzle pieces were settling into place. You could feel your stomach clench. Your heart sped up, and you felt your nerves set off as the waves of anxiety spread from your chest throughout your whole body,

"That's why you were late wasn't it…"

Miranda simply continued with her work as she pushed some of her bangs out of her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous Y/N, it was just about friends catching up."

"You never talked about her, you refused to talk about her, she isn't just a 'friend' Miranda."

There was a silent pause as you observed your lover. Her own mask was in place and she was blatantly ignoring the situation. She wouldn't even look you in the eye.

"She asked you out again, didn't she."

A whispered 'yes' cut through the silence.

You took a deep, steadying breath,

"What did you say."

Silence. Miranda returned to the book, turning the pages and making notes here and there. She never once acknowledged you, it was as if the editor shut you out completely.

It broke your heart.

"I hope having your fun is worth it."

You quietly approached the editor, making sure you didn't jostle the book in her lap, before you bent down and placed your own kiss on her forehead.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything else. The answer of silence was an answer in itself.

Quietly leaving the study, you made your way up to your– to Miranda's bedroom and gathered your clothes into a duffle bag. You didn't want to stay here, you couldn't. You didn't know what all of this meant, it was too much for you to process, but you knew you had to leave.

~~~~~~~

A year of being together and a journalist is what comes between the two of you. A year. A fucking year.

And now, here you were, sitting alone in a hotel room for the 8th day in a row.

How easy it was for Miranda to look at another.

Throughout the week you did your best to not doubt yourself. You knew Miranda's curiosity had nothing to do with how you were as a person or a lover, but you couldn't help that little voice in the back of your head that questioned why you weren't enough to satisfy Miranda.

After the second day of being away from the editor, she started to blow up your phone. Calls on top of calls came through, even during Runway hours and Miranda never called you during Runway hours, maybe texted, but never called.

The night you left the townhouse was the last time you talked to Miranda. Even though she's made many, many attempts to reach you, you weren't ready. Those self-doubts made you hesitant to pick up any of the calls that came to your phone.

On the third day she started to get Nigel and Emily to contact you. You told Nigel what happened and he wasn't happy with what Miranda had done. Emily heard what happened the first time she had contacted you and the redhead wasn't thrilled either. Although Emily was hard to deal with at times, you knew she wanted the best for you and right now she didn't think Miranda was what's best for you. Either way, both of them knew the situation and both of them promised to keep your location underwraps.

That, in turn, caused Miranda to double her attempts (as if they weren't enough already).

She started to send gifts, flowers, anything the editor thought you might like.

When you would arrive at work, there would be a bouquet of flowers on your desk, then throughout the day more bouquets would follow. Hell the woman would send you chocolates, not the cheap ones either, the best chocolates money could buy in New York City. You started to find Roy waiting for you after work and despite your attempts of refusal, you caved in after he personally wanted to see you make it back to wherever you were staying, safely.

Every mutual friend you had with Miranda knew where you were and what had happened between you two, and each of them promised to keep quiet on the matter.

You knew you couldn't hide forever, you just didn't know when she'd finally find you.

A knock on your hotel door snapped you out of your thoughts.

Your breath hitched. It couldn't be Miranda right? You've managed to slip away for 8 days, surely you had more time.

Looking through the little peep hole, you felt your body relax before confusion passed over your features. You never ordered room service. Unless you did and just forgot about it.

You shrugged, 'Free food is free food.' You opened the door and followed the bellhop as he pushed the cart in. Taking a closer look, you found that the cart held a tray of your favorite foods with a basket of your favorite snacks.

"Um, excuse me, where did you get all of this?"

"You only deserve the best."

You whipped around and found Miranda standing in the doorway.

She looked as if she came from work. Her famously white hair had fallen out of it's usual coif and there were a few wrinkles on her blouse.

What surprised you was the fact that the usual poised editor was fidgeting with her fingers. You could practically feel the anxiety rolling off of her body in waves. It was only then that you noticed that the two of you were now alone in your hotel room.

Miranda didn't know where to start, "Y/N, I…" she took a deep breath, "I love you and I-I'm sorry for my lapse in judgement about the whole..Andréa spiel."

You watched as Miranda took tentative steps forward, gaining more confidence when she didn't get any refusal from you.

She took hold of your hands and pressed kisses to them both, "Darling, it's you. I love you and only you. There has never been a moment since you left that I haven't thought of you."

"Miranda…" you whispered softly.

She shook her head and squeezed your hands, "I need you. I should have never entertained the thought of life without you by my side. I choose you Y/N, I love you."

You bit your lip before you sent a small smile towards the editor and Miranda's eyes brightened. She pulled you into a crushing hug and she clung to you like a koala as she kissed any part of your body that was in reach: your shoulder, your neck, your hair. All the while, she whispered 'I love you's' and 'I'm sorry's' and 'Y/N' as if chanting these things would keep you two in the moment. You indulged in the love that was showered on you and you hugged Miranda back just as tightly.

Miranda finally settled to hide her face in the crook of your neck,

"How did you find me?"

Her response was muffled by your neck but you heard it all the same,

"I may have threatened Emily with the banning of cheese in the offices."

You snorted a laugh.

'Ratted out for cheese cubes..are cheese gift baskets a thing?’

__________

Devil Wears Prada tags: @007giu

#miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #meryl streep #meryl streep movies

[jaeminlore]

Landslide | Mark Lee

summary: time makes you bolder. even children get older, and i’m getting older too.

words: 7.1k+

category: teacher!mark, single parent!reader, fem!presenting!reader, graham is the sweetest kid, mark is that teacher that lets kids pick earthworms during recess, friends to lovers, mark’s apartment is flooded so now he has to live in domestic bliss with his secret crush oh nooooo

warnings: talk of absent fathers

author note: it’s my birthday tomorrow so i wanted to give u all a present for supporting me for so long!! here’s to you <3 (cross-posted on /honklore)

Mark helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Mark advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Mark grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Mark.

Mark ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Lee forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Mark giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Mark to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Mark actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Mark did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Mark puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Mark checks his text messages.

There’s one from Taeyong: “I’ve already got Haechan on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Mark forgot that Haechan lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Mark’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Mark didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Mark has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Mark right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Mark doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Mark gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Mark is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Mark’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Mark gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Mark pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Mark! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Mark is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Lee! It’s rude to call him Mark!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Mark reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Mark.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Mark and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Mark studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Mark acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Mark clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll text you.”

Mark spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

-

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Mark is his teacher.

Mark’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Mark is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Mark glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Mark.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Mark to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Lee?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Mark gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Mark.

“How have you been?”

Mark sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Mark pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Mark. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Mark bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

-

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Lee is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Lee? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Mark decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Lee’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are heard before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, and you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Mark’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Mark is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Mark’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Mark teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Mark mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Mark gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Mark himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Mark has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Lee cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Mark around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Mark giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Mark blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Mark knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

-

Mark thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Mark gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Mark quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Mark tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Lee! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Mark’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Mark gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Mark feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be. Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Mark reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Mark has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Lee?”

Mark grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Mark feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Mark grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Mark, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Mark leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Mark thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Mark takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Mark watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Mark, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Mark reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Mark wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

-

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Lee let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Mark trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Mark scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Mark places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Mark’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Mark says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Mark Lee would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Mark grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

-

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Mark up by jumping on his chest.

Mark sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Mark, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Mark rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Mark and Graham enter.

Mark likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Mark, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Mark rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Mark insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

-

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Mark giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Mark reminds you.

“But Mikey is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Mark’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Mark scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Mark is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Mark blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Mark is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Mark,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Mark opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

-

Haechan comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Mark, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still high despite its blunt sarcasm. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Haechan, Mark’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Lee’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Haechan looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Haechan to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Taeyong’s, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Mikey, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re rambling and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Johnny about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Mark tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Mark didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Haechan scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Mark’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Haechan grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Mark, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Haechan in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Haechan’s voice cracks

You shoot Haechan a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Johnny’s.” Mark says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Haechan says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Mark laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Mark is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in the shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

-

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Mark is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Haechan’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Mark didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Mark was alone in a dorm with Taeyong, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Mark even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Lee?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Mark jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Mark realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Mark holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Mark says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Mark’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

-

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Mark and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Mark’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Mark scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. ��You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Mark smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, copper brown under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Mark’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

-

“Mark Lee!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Mark has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Mark’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Mark.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Mark.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Haechan told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Mark pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Mark stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

-

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Mark. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Mark again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Mark in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say.

Mark confesses, “I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Mark is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Mark bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Mark’s voice is a low rumble. Copper eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Mark.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in onyx black disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#Nct fluff #nct fanfiction #Nct angst #Nct scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark lee fanfic #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #destwrites

[honklore]

landslide | karl jacobs

(kindergarten teacher!karl, single mom!reader, oh no karl’s apartment gets flooded so he has to stay at his best friend from high school’s house who also happens to be the mother of his favorite student, karl just being soft and sweet and a great friend, um talk about the baby daddy being a loser essentially, the beast team is there playing the role of karl’s friends from school, graham is the sweetest child, slight angst, fluff, friends to lovers, SOFT KARL, warmth, comfort, romance coded but very light)

listen to: landslide by fleetwood mac, never grow up by taylor swift, growing up by river run north, rainbow by kacey musgraves

Karl helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Karl advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Karl grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Karl.

Karl ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Jacobs forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Karl giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Karl to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Karl actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Karl did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Karl puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Karl checks his text messages.

There’s one from Chris: “I’ve already got Chandler on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Karl forgot that Chandler lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Karl’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Karl didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Karl has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Karl right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Karl doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Karl gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Karl is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Karl’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Karl gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Karl pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Karl! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Karl is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Jacobs! It’s rude to call him Karl!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Karl reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Karl.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Karl and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Karl studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Karl acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Karl clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Karl. I’ll text you.”

Karl spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Karl is his teacher.

Karl’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Karl is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Karl glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Karl.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Karl to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Jacobs?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Karl gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Karl.

“How have you been?”

Karl sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Karl pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Karl. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Karl bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Jacobs is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Jacobs? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Karl decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Jacobs’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are head before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, but just you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Karl’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Karl is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Karl’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Karl teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Karl mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Karl gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Karl himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Karl has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Jacobs cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Karl around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Karl giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Karl blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Karl knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Karl thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Karl gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Karl quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Karl tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Jacobs! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Karl’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Karl gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Karl feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be.

Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Karl reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Karl has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Jacobs?”

Karl grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Karl’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Karl feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Karl grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Karl, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Karl leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Karl thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Karl takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Karl asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Karl watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Karl, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Karl reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Karl wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Jacobs let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Karl trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Karl scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Karl places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Karl’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Karl says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Karl Jacobs would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Karl grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Karl up by jumping on his chest.

Karl sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Karl, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Karl rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Karl and Graham enter.

Karl likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of seeing you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Karl, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Karl rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Karl insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Karl giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Karl reminds you.

“But Tucker is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Karl’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Karl scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Karl is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Karl laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Karl blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Karl is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Karl,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Karl opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Chandler comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Karl, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still monotonous despite its humor. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Chandler, Karl’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Jacob’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Chandler looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Chandler to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Chris’, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Tucker, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re ranting and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Jimmy about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Karl tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Karl didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Chandler scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Karl’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Chandler grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Karl, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Chandler in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Chandler’s voice cracks

You shoot Chandler a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Jimmy’s.” Karl says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Chandler says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Karl laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Karl is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in a shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Karl is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Chandler’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Karl didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Karl was alone in a dorm with Chris, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Karl even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Jacobs?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Karl jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Karl realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Karl holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Karl says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Karl’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Karl and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Karl’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Karl scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Karl smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, stormy green under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Karl’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

“Karl Jacobs!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Karl has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Karl’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Karl laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Karl.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Karl.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Chandler told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Karl pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Karl stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Karl. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Karl again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Karl in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say, just as Karl confesses,

“I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Karl is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Karl bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Karl’s voice is a low rumble. Green grass eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Karl.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in emerald green disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#karl jacobs fluff #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fluff #pixiecap//

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

More Than A Friend

Summary: A weekend trip with Carol leads you to realize you might like her a little more than you'd thought.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 6,194

You crept into the bar. It was a rowdy place, even this early in the evening. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking in all the different people that were scattered throughout the room. The football game was playing on the TV, but unfortunately, it wasn't really your sport. Finally, your eyes landed on a blonde sitting at the bar. You moved toward her, a smirk on your face. You didn't even bother to slide into the seat next to her.

Your hand touched her hip and your lips were right next to her ear when you spoke. "What's a beautiful thing like you doing all alone here?"

She startled a little, whipping to face you. When she saw you, though, she smacked you away, an unamused expression taking over the surprised look she'd had a minute ago. You slid onto the stool next to her, eyes watching as the bartender held up a single finger to indicate he'd be over to you in a moment. You only nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to the girl beside you, the smirk still on your lips.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" She rolled her eyes.

"Come off it, Care-bear, you love me."

"Christ, I hate when you call me that."

"I apologize, oh Captain, my captain."

The bartender arrived and prevented her from retaliating. You didn't even bother looking back at her as you ordered your drink of choice, glancing up at the football game that you didn't care about in order to not look at Carol. She finally snorted and bumped her shoulder against yours. It made you look back at her, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face when she gave you a hearty wink. She laughed.

"How was work?"

You shrugged. "People are idiots."

When you were sixteen, you'd worked a retail job where you'd learned just how stupid people really were. You'd learned that fully-grown adults had nothing better in their lives to do than yell at teenaged, minimum wage workers during their spare time for nothing more than a minor inconvenience. When you'd become an Avenger, you thought that would stop. You were incorrect. You might not have been a teenaged retail worker anymore, but people found a reason to lose their temper anyway- even right after you'd saved their life.

"That good, huh?" She chuckled.

"Are people nicer on other planets, Care-bear? Take me with you?"

"They're not, no," Carol huffed, sipping from her glass. "And the drinks don't taste as good."

You wondered what she was drinking that she seemed to be enjoying so much. It was colourful, and had, at this point, piqued your interest. You reached out and snatched from where it sat in front of her on the bar. You sniffed it first. It was something fruity, that was all you could figure. Finally, you dared raise the glass to your lips. The second the liquid touched your tongue you felt like you might overdose on sugar and sweetness.

"Oh, my God, Carol!" You exclaimed, setting the drink back down on the bar top and sliding it to her. "What the hell is that?"

"She got it extra sweet," the bartender said as he walked by. "Your friend's got a sugar addiction."

It didn't seem to bother her at all. While you felt you could puke from the sugar content alone, she was sipping it happily. You rolled your eyes at her, reaching for your own drink, much preferring the taste of it. Carol turned to you suddenly, the straw still between her lips. You watched as she lowered it back down, using the same straw to stir the drink around, the ice clinking off the side of the glass as she did. She sipped it again.

"What's our weekend plans, then?" Carol asked finally.

"Who says I have plans with you?"

"Oh, please. You practically begged me to come stay on Earth for a weekend."

"I did absolutely no such thing."

You absolutely did do that. Carol was away from Earth more often than not and you missed her. It wasn't like it was a crime to. So, you'd phoned her up and asked her over and over to come spend just one weekend on Earth with you. She'd finally agreed on the eighth ask, and now here you sat; on the right of the girl you'd missed so dearly, teasing her relentlessly about whatever that abomination was swirling around in her glass.

"We're taking my new car on a little road trip," you finally gave, sipping your drink. "Music, fast-food, and deep talks on the interstate."

"Snacks?"

"Snacks too," you promised with a chuckle. "And we can get a nice motel room or pitch a tent at night. Whichever you please."

You had to laugh at the smile that had crept over her face. The way she giggled in excitement, you had to wonder if it'd just been too long since her last day off or if the alcohol had gotten to her already. She waved the bartender lever as she finished hers. He placed a new one in front of her, and she thanked him quickly, bringing it close and immediately bringing the straw between her lips. You wondered whether the sugar or alcohol content would hospitalize her quicker.

"So, when do we leave?" She chirped.

"In the morning. Don't drink too much. You'll get hungover and I want to actually have fun."

She stuck her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes in response, finishing your own drink and then declining another. You didn't want to be hungover when you were the one driving the two of you around. The bartender brought you a pop instead. You sipped on it, watching a bar-goer stumbled over with a drunk grin on his face and tapped Carol on the shoulder. He said something you didn't quite hear, but you saw Carol nod. He took her hands and dragged her onto the dance floor. You brought her drink toward you.

Carol was a flirt. She always had been. She was a flirt with you, your teammates, and strangers. She was also gay. This dance with this guy didn't mean much to her. You weren't sure if it even meant much to him. You couldn't be sure that he'd even remember this dance. He was absolutely wasted, and it wasn't even midnight. Regardless, he seemed to be enjoying it. His eyes travelled up and down Carol's body and you squeezed the glass in your hand a little tighter. You were protective of her, despite knowing she could absolutely hold her own.

When the song finished, she winked at him, retreating back to your spot at the bar. She finished up her drink and then insisted the two of you head back to your place and that you were right: she didn't want to be nursing a hangover while you were supposed to be having a good time. You paid the bartender and then linked your arm with hers, leading her out the door and onto the streets. She glanced up at the tall buildings around her. A smile had formed on her face.

"You don't appreciate how beautiful this place is."

You glanced up at the glowing buildings that towered above you and marvelled, for a moment, at the soft light that radiated off them. Your gaze was tugged downward, though, at a rustling noise. You were snapped back into the reality of your city as you watched a rat scurry along the curb of the sidewalk in the direction opposite you. You chuckled at that, motioning to it as you looked up to catch Carol's bright gaze.

"Surely some of those planets are far more beautiful than this."

She shrugged. "Some, maybe. Some are worse. Some are kind of alike to this. This has always been my favourite, though."

You might have understood that if Carol had taken the time to visit the actual beautiful parts of the Earth. But she was always in the city. She'd never gone to stare in amazement at a waterfall or glance at towering mountains. She had never seen the true beauties of this Earth, and you promised in that moment to change that fact. If she thought New York City was beautiful, she would be blown off her feet by the things you showed her.

"One day, Carol, I'll show you the actual beautiful things on this Earth."

"You're pretty beautiful yourself."

You smacked her. That was her flirty side coming out once again. It didn't mean anything. It never had. So, you wondered what that strange flutter in your chest was when she said the words. You ignored it, passing it off as a longing for a meaningful relationship. You hadn't had one of those in a while now. You probably just wanted someone to say those words to you and mean it. You made a mental note to sign up for an online dating site after the weekend had passed. It was too hard to meet people in your line of work without them.

"Yeah, I know," was all you gave in response.

When you glanced over at her, she had a grin on her face.

It wasn't long until you'd reached your apartment building. You smiled at the front desk as you entered the lobby and immediately made for the elevator. You pressed the button to the seventh floor and waited patiently for the doors. You knew Carol was suppressing a squeal of glee when they arrived. She usually just flew everywhere. Using simple inventions like this one had always gotten her more excited than the average person. To anyone else, an elevator was just a boring elevator.

"Can I do it?" She asked as you pulled out your key.

Carol really was just like a child, in a sense. Everything was so advanced out in space that these were the things she enjoyed doing. You pointed out the bronze key and watched her run ahead. She practically skipped the distance to your apartment door. She pushed the key into the lock and turned it, glancing back at you and smiling widely when the door pushed open. You smiled affectionately as you took the key back from her.

She may not have visited Earth overly often, but every time she did, she visited your apartment. Resultantly, she knew her way around. She knew, as well, that you didn't mind in the slightest if she made herself at home. She slid her shoes off and jumped onto the couch, pulling the blanket down over top of her and snuggling into it. You actually took a photo of the sight before you moved into the room behind her, lifting her legs, sitting on the couch, and then dropping them back over your lap.

"Can we watch a movie?" Carol asked, pleading gaze turning to you.

You showed her the remote you'd been reaching for. "Already on it, Captain Danvers."

"I take it back," she giggled, tossing her head back so that it hit the armrest. "That's worse. You can call me-"

"Aw, my Care-Bear!" You laughed, shifting your position so you could throw your arms around her shoulders.

Carol grunted at the impact against her torso. Once you settled, though, she breathed a little easier. You were both squished against one side of the couch, now, but the closeness was nothing new to you. You still had the remote in hand, and aimed it at the TV, managing to get it to Netflix. You flicked on a random horror movie, setting the remote back down on the coffee table in front of you. You nestled back into the cushions.

It had always amused you how jumpy Carol got when she watched horror movies. She was a literal superhero that fought literal aliens all the night and day and yet a ghost jumping out of a darkened corridor had her cringing away from the TV screen and pulling the blanket further up her body as if in an attempt to protect her. She would always adamantly deny it if you ever brought it up later. You would never show her the picture you had of her, fuzzy blue blanket pulled all the way up to her nose, eyes wide, as she watched The Conjuring. She would delete it off your phone as you slept.

Today, though, her nerves seemed to be calmed somewhat by the cup of tea she had clasped between her hands. She looked entirely content, sitting cross-legged on the couch with that same fuzzy blanket draped over her lap and a grey, ceramic mug warming her palms. The alcohol had clearly gotten to her a little, you realized, as you watched her eyelids droop every once in a while. The corner of your mouth tilted upward ever so slightly. She was wide awake a moment later.

It was a sudden jump scare. Even being half asleep, Carol was still paying attention. So, when the TV boomed and there was a flash and a scream, she jumped. The tea that she'd been holding in her lap sloshed over the edges, a large amount of liquid soaking into the couch cushions. You were out of your seat in an instant, reaching for the remote to pause. Carol was apologizing profusely, jumping to her feet and following you to the kitchen.

"It's okay, Carol. It's fine," you chuckled, wetting a dish towel and grabbing some paper towels. "Hey, it's fine. Really. Chill out."

Carol seemed hesitant to do that. When you lightheartedly flicked the wet towel at her, though, she finally smiled taking the paper towel out of your hand and heading back to the living room, pressing the paper towel into the couch and absorbing as much of the liquid as she could. When she'd finished, you used the wet rag to clean the beverage out. As you tossed the paper towel away and threw the dishrag into the kitchen sink, you stood back and took a look at the large wet spot on the couch.

"Guess we're moving to my room, then. Let's go, Care-Bear."

Carol nodded. She trod behind you into the bedroom, where you flopped onto the bed. She was lagging behind and you waved her onward to hurry her up. She finally jumped onto the bed and sat next to you, sliding her legs underneath the covers. You turned on the small TV in your room and resumed the movie you'd been watching. In the soft comfort of the bed, though, it seemed the tug for sleep was greater. Carol's eyes finally fluttered shut and she lay down against the pillows. You chuckled, turning off the movie.

You, unlike your friend, hadn't fallen asleep involuntary. You were able to head to the bathroom and brush your teeth before yawning tiredly and deciding to join. You padded back into the room, climbed under the covers, shut off the lights, and lay your head onto your own pillow. You smiled once at Carol's sleeping figure before you shut your eyes, letting sleep take you.

*

As hard as you tried to convince her, you weren't able to get Carol to stick her head back inside the sunroof. You weren't sure how to breeze was so exhilarating to her. The superhuman could fly faster than your car was going right now. The wind in her hair had to be a familiar feeling at this point. Plus, there were no laws against flying above the interstate to feel the wind in your hair. There were, however, laws about standing with your entire torso stuck out the roof of the car.

You'd given up a while ago. If she fell out, she'd be just fine. If she got you a ticket? Oh, there would be serious hell to pay. She'd agreed to that already. You'd honestly be surprised, though, if she did get ticketed. It'd be quite a sight to see: a measly police officer ticketing the Human-Kree Hybrid superhero. That sight alone might actually be worth the fine you would have to pay. By the time she'd pulled her head back in, though, blonde hair windblown and a smile plastered to her face, you'd yet to see a single cop.

"Have fun?" You asked, doing up the sunroof.

"Absolutely. You should try."

"Do you know how to drive?" You scoffed.

"I can fly a ship."

"Yeah, I'm sure UFO controls are much different than cars so I'm gonna have to politely ask you to stay the hell away from my car."

Carol only stuck her tongue out at you. She still didn't do her seatbelt up yet. She twisted her body so that she could reach into the back seat. You turned back to the road, but when you shot a second glance at her a few seconds later, she was popping open a can of Pringles with a large grin on her face. She bit down onto a chip with a giggle before turning the can to you. You reached into it with one hand and took a small handful of them, setting them down on the centre console for easier access.

"Where are we staying tonight?" Carol asked through a mouthful of chips.

"A campground up in a small town in Ontario," you hummed. "It's still a good few hours away. I'd ask if you wanted to stop for food, but I'd guess you've filled up on snacks."

She dug through her backpack. "Do I need this?"

She held up the passport you'd made her get last time the two of you had headed up to Toronto. Despite the fact that she really wasn't a citizen of the United States... or even of Earth, you'd managed to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to make you an exception for Carol. It was the perks of being an Avenger, and a close friend of Nick Fury, you supposed. To answer her question, you simply nodded your head as you reached for the Gatorade in your cup holder. She stuck the papers back into her bag.

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

The question almost made you spit the red beverage onto the steering wheel. It wasn't that you and Carol had never talked about it. She was one of your closest friends, after all. She was the first one you'd called when you'd realized your feelings for your last girlfriend, and she was the first one you'd called when you'd broken up. Carol wasn't someone you didn't talk about your love life with. It was just that it was completely and entirely out of the blue. It didn't help that the answer was still no, even after the long period of time since she'd last asked it.

You'd tried to assure yourself that you were just busy with work. It wasn't a lie. You'd been busy as hell ever since Loki's sceptre had inexplicably gone missing after the Battle in New York. But it wasn't just that, you knew full well. Something seemed to be wrong with your brain, or maybe your heart. Maybe it was just that your standards were practically in the clouds, but no one seemed attractive to you anymore. Not even the girl Natasha had tried to set you up with (and you were well convinced that Natasha only knew attractive people).

"Not at the moment, no," you finally admitted. "You?"

"On-and-off," she shrugged. "Just a girl from a planet called Xandar."

A pang of jealousy struck your chest. You were carving something- anything. You would've given anything even for something on-and-off just about now. Had it really been that long? You could hardly believe you were jealous of her. It wasn't like you to be jealous of something someone else had. You were supposed to be happy for her, not sulking over your own lack of a love life... or sex life. You forced a smile at her, wishing it could be real.

"Oh, yeah? Tell me about her."

"Not too much to tell," Carol said, biting down on a potato chip. "She's cute, funny, sweet. A little younger than me, but most people are," she chuckled as she glanced over at you. You plastered a phone smile back onto your lips and forced a laugh from your chest. "Her name's Alya."

You almost grumbled, but managed to bite your tongue on time. You resorted to ripping open a packet of gummy bears in order to keep your mouth full and therefore unable to make any snarky comments. Carol didn't seem to notice that, only reaching over and grabbing a green bear out of the bag. Though you might have been a little frustrated, you let her. It wasn't her fault that you were touch-starved and desperate.

"You know, we could spend this trip trying to find you a girlfriend," Carol grinned, tossing a candy into the air and catching it in her mouth.

"No," you denied immediately. You didn't need for her to see how weird your head was being right now. You were certain there was no one she could find that would be able to snap you out of this strange state of no one being attractive to you, yet craving someone. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend in Ontario."

"What's wrong with girls from Ontario?" Carol teased.

She'd been to Ontario once before. She'd pointed out that, though they may have dressed a little different and talked a little different, the girls from Ontario were just as attractive as the girls from New York. You'd had to point out that, at the time, she'd had a girlfriend. With Carol's ogling at girls on Earth, clearly, she and the girlfriend hadn't been working out well. They'd broken up two weeks later, leaving them both a little hurt, but not beyond repair. Even still, they saw each other for lunch or for a drink, but just as friends. It was admirable; the respect they had retained for one another.

"Nothing is wrong with girls from Ontario," you huffed. "I'm just not in the mood. This is supposed to be our weekend."

"What if I want to spend our weekend finding you a girl?"

"I don't. Drop it," you finally snapped.

Immediately guilt rushed to settle in the pit of your stomach. You readjusted your grip on the steering wheel as your gaze refused to leave the road in front of you. You didn't want to glance over at the frown that had surely taken the place of that infectious smile you loved so dearly. You definitely didn't want to look at it knowing that you were the cause of it. Carol was so incredibly joyful all the time and that was one of the things you loved about her. To be the one who had taken that joy from her, even momentarily, broke your heart.

"I'm sorry," you muttered.

She didn't answer that.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat as you tried to focus on driving instead of picturing the frown that was probably tugging at each of Carol's features. You wished you could actually physically kick yourself for what you'd done. She didn't deserve you snapping at her like that. She hadn't done anything wrong. You were just being pissy for reasons you weren't sure even you quite understood. You finally turned to her, but she was looking out the window.

"Look, Carol-"

"Hey, don't worry. Sorry I pushed."

You didn't deserve Carol Susan Jane Danvers one single bit. She deserved more than the world and you swore right then you'd work every moment to give that to her. Despite how you'd treated her for reasons she couldn't possibly have understood, when she turned to you, she was still smiling. As always, her smile put a smile on your face too. You turned away from those soft brown eyes to glance back at the road in front of you.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I snapped. I just... it's a long story, Care-Bear."

"We've got a long ride ahead of us," she tried.

"I don't know that I'm feeling like talking about it right this second," you admitted.

She seemed to accept that. You felt her touch your arm with her hand. Warmth seemed to rush from her touch, up your arms, and into your chest. How one person could instill such comfort into you amazed you. She said a few soft words to you that you didn't quite hear, but you felt you might not need to. You knew they were words of comfort. Just that knowledge was enough to put a smile onto your face. Your eyes flickered from her to the road.

"No problem," Carol chimed. Then, without missing a single beat, she changed the subject. "Hey, which bag did you put the Fuzzy Peaches in?"

"The green backpack."

Just like that, it was easy again. Carol didn't let you linger on just how upset you were for more than a second. She practically dived into the back seat for the backpack, reappearing with the orange package in her hand. She plopped back down into her seat, still refused to put her seatbelt on, and ripped the package open. She reached out and turned up the music when one of your favourite songs came on. You wondered if she knew that.

*

"No! That piece goes over here!" You insisted.

Carol frowned and handed you the long pole.

Pitching a tent with an alien who hadn't even known was a tent was, up until five minutes ago, was not easy. She'd practically rolled herself up like a burrito in the rain fly right after nearly putting the stakes directly through the floor to pin the tent down. You'd been guiding her, preventing any damage from coming to it. She was listening intently, making sure she did everything exactly how you said. She stuck the peg through the guy line and looked at you.

"Like that?"

"Yeah. Perfect. I think we're just about done, Care-Bear."

At that, she unzipped the door, diving through it into the empty tent. You reached into the trunk of your car, throwing the many pillows, blankets, and sleeping bags through behind her, not caring much where they landed. When you finally shut the door and ducked into the tent, Carol was beneath the large pile, peering out from where only the top half of her face was visible. You had to chuckle, grabbing one of the blankets and pulling it over her face.

Carol insisted she set up. She had you sit aside by the door, munching happily on a small bowl of popcorn as you watched. She carefully unzipped the sleeping bags and lay them down on the floor, putting the pillows atop them, and then the two comforters stacked on top of each other on top of that. When she finally finished, she gestured proudly to her completed setup. You raised an eyebrow.

"We both sleeping there?"

She nodded. "It's cold."

You had to give her that. You were practically shivering just from waiting for her to finish. The sun had dipped beyond the horizon at this point, the darkness of night did nothing to heat up the air around you. You clambered under the blankets, careful not to drop any of the popcorn you still held. You placed it next to you, letting Carol reach over and grab some as she, too, climbed into the makeshift bed. She popped a piece into her mouth.

"Up to talking about it yet?"

It was a genuine question. Carol wasn't pushy. That was something you could tell by her tone. She had waited patiently and was continuing to wait for you to be ready to talk about what you needed to talk about. She didn't want you bottling it up, but she didn't want to pressure you. She was able to do that. You glanced down at the red blanket that covered your legs, pondering her question for a moment. Then you nodded your head yes.

"I just haven't felt myself recently," you shrugged. "I would like to get out there and find someone, no doubt. Recently, though, it's like my standards are unmeetable. No one seems even remotely appealing to me."

"No one at all?"

"Nat tried to set me up with her Russian model friend," you said, turning to Carol with a grin finally on your lips.

"Nothing?" Carol said, an exaggerated amount of shock on her face. "You must be broken."

You shoved her. She chuckled; the offensive action having done nothing. She was inhumanly strong. If you'd decided to punch her, you likely would've broken your hand against her. She shoved you back, only lightly, so you moved a few inches away from her. She stuck her hand back into the popcorn bowl as you shuffled back into your place beside her. She was chewing thoughtfully, and you didn't dare interrupt her with the very focused expression on her face.

"Do you already like someone? That usually takes away the appeal of anyone else."

You stopped to think about that. You knew that could be the case. In eleventh grade when you'd had a crush on Adelaide Artenbaker, you'd suddenly failed to find anyone else attractive at all. Of course, Adelaide had eventually rejected you on account that she was straight as an arrow. It wasn't malicious. She'd actually given you a kiss on the cheek and assured you that, if she discovered wasn't, she'd let you know. It had made you laugh.

Now, you had to wonder if there was anyone that was making your stomach flip and making you dismiss anyone else. It wasn't the Avengers. You'd been in the changing room with Natasha, the Black fucking Widow, two days ago, and she'd strutted up to you in nothing but her bra and underwear. You hadn't even bat an eyelash as she'd asked you if you wanted to get some Chinese food after the mission (but you had said yes, of course).

"Yeah. Maybe."

Her words had knocked some serious sense into you. You definitely had a crush on someone, and it had definitely been impairing your ability to get out on a date. That someone was around so little, though, that you hadn't realized right away just how you felt for them. Maybe if she visited Earth a little more often, you'd have realized why you blushed so deeply when she'd crawled into bed with you last night or right now.

"Who is it, then?"

Carol had a girlfriend. It may have been on-again-off-again, but she had a girlfriend. You were not now, nor ever, someone who would come between that. You were going to let her be happy with someone who was making her happy and you were going to be happy for her. You plastered a smile onto your face and reached into the bowl of popcorn that sat on your lap, letting the snack cloud the feelings of jealousy that you knew now weren't jealousy of a relationship, but if Carol.

"Nat."

Carol didn't miss a single beat. "Liar."

You glared at her. "The fuck do you mean? Telling me who I do and do not like?"

"I know who has your heart right now. It isn't Nat."

This time when she reached for the popcorn, she leaned over. To support her weight, her hand came to rest on your upper thigh. You had to refrain from reacting. You sucked the inside of your cheek between your teeth, biting hard on it to suppress any sort of reaction that Carol would have noticed. It seemed to have worked. She grabbed a small handful and then backed away, the pressure of her hand disappearing from your limb.

"Yeah? Who is it, then?"

"Someone that likes you back."

"And who says Nat doesn't?"

You might have actually been offended if it weren't Carol you were talking to. You were good enough for Natasha, right? She was practically a goddess in respect to her looks, but you were something, too. Not that you liked Natasha in that way. She was a friend. Carol was the one that you cared about. Something about that sweet smile and that confidence mixed with an innocence she had after being away from Earth for so long warmed your heart every time.

"Fair," Carol admitted. "But you know, you're pretty oblivious. With all the hints I've been dropping, you'd think you'd have realized your feelings are reciprocated."

"What?"

"I like you, dumbass. More than a friend likes a friend."

Your jaw might have dropped. You coughed, choking on the popcorn that you'd been eating as you whirled to face the blonde. She had a twinkle in her eyes, and a giggle escaped her lips when she saw the expression on your face. She tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it in her mouth. She chewed on it as she waited, arms crossed, for you to collect yourself. Finally, after a long drink of water, you calmed.

"Pardon?"

"You're an idiot," she mumbled.

Then she grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you closer. You didn't fail to notice, as your lips moved against hers, that she moved the popcorn bowl so that it wouldn't spill. It seemed completely unimportant, though. You felt everything starting to melt away into Carol Danvers. Her lips were talented and kissing her felt like an intricate sport and suddenly you needed to breathe. When you pushed away, you realized what you'd done wrong.

Her feelings to you didn't matter. She had a girlfriend. Unless that fact changed, she and you didn't get to be more than your friend. You pushed her even further away. You knew she had the ability to, but she didn't resist. You backed off a little further so that your bodies were completely separated. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but she didn't push. She even waited for you to speak first. Your eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"You have a girlfriend."

"I just said that to make you jealous," she scoffed.

You immediately got defensive. "I was not jealous."

"You were so!"

"Shut up."

She did. You suspected the only reason she had shut up was because she was kissing you again. It didn't matter. You were on cloud nine. You felt right again. You felt more right now than you ever had. Carol was exactly what you had needed for longer than you could figure out right then. She was clouding your thoughts and, honestly, you couldn't have cared less. You didn't want to think about anything besides how good her lips felt on yours right then.

You couldn't even find it in yourself to be mad at her for the little stunt she had pulled. You could only be glad that this so-called girlfriend wasn't actually real, and was just a part of her stupid plan. Without the girlfriend, you were free to kiss her as much as she would let you. Judging by how she was kissing you now, she wasn't going to stop you anytime soon. Her teeth grazed your bottom lip as she pulled away, not moving more than an inch from your lips, though.

The hand that clasped your shirt uncurled. She pressed her hand flat against the centre of your chest, pushing you onto your back. You had to chuckle as her knees pressed into the ground on either side of your waist. She kissed your nose once, scowling at the laughs that were beginning to bubble from your chest. You leaned up and kissed her lips for a brief moment, before using a hand to caress her cheek and tuck her hair behind her ear.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing. You were right," you stated. "I'm kinda glad you were right."

"You're kind of glad? Can you imagine how stupid I'd have looked if I were wrong?" Carol laughed.

"Quite," you agreed with a nod.

You pulled her down next to you, wrapping your arms around her and feeling hers do the same to you. You pressed your forehead against hers, taking the time to admire her smiling face. She giggled a little, pecking your lips quickly. She didn't linger, though, having been preoccupied in reaching over your shoulder into the bowl of popcorn once more. She shoved a few pieces into her mouth and chewed happily.

"Care-Bear, what's more important: me or snacks?"

"You are a snack."

You gaped. "How the hell did you learn that term?"

She shrugged. "I hear things."

You rolled your eyes, pushing her away from you. She let you, reaching for her water bottle to wash down some of the salty flavour that had come off the popcorn. She offered you some water, which you accepted. When you finished and handed the bottle back to her, she pulled you close to her. Your body moved until it was flush against hers. Her torso was so warm you could've fallen asleep right then and there.

"You're more important."

Being more important than snacks, in the opinion of Carol Danvers, was just about the highest compliment you could have received.

#carol danvers #captain marvel #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers x reader #mcu #marvel #wlw #lesbian

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - III

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,500+

Previously on…

Bruce was having yet another night without sleep. It happened often. And similar to the rest of the family, he just learned to function on very few hours of sleep.

So, he decided to make his way down to the kitchen.

But as he walked down the long hallway of bedrooms, he noticed that Y/N’s door was open. He glanced inside to see that it was empty and her bed was still neatly made from this morning. 

He looked down at this watch to see that it was almost 5AM.

A part of Bruce expected to find Y/N snacking or drinking coffee. But she wasn’t in the kitchen either.

Bruce sighed, realizing where she’d be and made his way down to the cave.

He expected to find Y/N with her eyes bloodshot and shoulders hunched over at the computers.

What he didn’t expect was to find Y/N passed out, slouched in the chair, knees in her chest and head balanced on the palm of her hand. How her elbow stayed propped up on the arm of the chair was beyond Bruce.

He smirked at the sight.

Perhaps she’d been spending too much time around the Wayne family. She was starting to adopt their bad habit of exhausting themselves.

Bruce knew she would be irritated if he moved her. But, honestly, he didn’t really care.

Carefully, Bruce slipped his arms behind her back – separating her from the chair – and then behind her knees, slowly lifting her into his arms.

Even though the movement was extremely smooth, Y/N still stirred.

“I was just taking a cat nap,” Y/N mumbled, but couldn’t even open her eyes to make the argument compelling. “I’m still working.”

“No, you’re not. Time to get some sleep.”

“Mmmm. Fine,” she slurred and tucked her head into his neck.

Bruce wasn’t sure if her mind even put together that it was him carrying her.

But he savored the closeness as he carried her out of the cave and up the stairs to the second floor of the manor.

When they got to her bedroom, Bruce put her down on the bed so softly, that she didn’t even feel it. Then he bent down to take off her shoes and unfolded the covers to tuck her in.

Just as Bruce reached the door.

Y/N woke up slightly and muttered, “Night, Bruce.”

His hand froze on the doorknob. It was so quiet that he wasn’t even sure if he had imagined it. But he couldn’t find the courage to turn and face her.

So he shut the door and let her sleep.

————

“Where’s Y/L/N?” Damian asked the table.

She usually ate breakfast with them.

“Still sleeping,” Bruce answered without looking up from the newspaper. “No one bother her today. She needs to rest,” that made him look up and give a warning look to Tim, Damian, and Dick.

Then Jason came stomping into the kitchen.

He grabbed a pastry and ate it standing up, getting crumbs all over the floor.

“Where’s ladylove?” He asked with his mouth so full that he looked like a chipmunk.

Bruce ignored him and looked back down at the paper.

But Dick frowned at him. “Don’t call her that.”

“What do you care?” Jason laughed.

Dick didn’t dignify the question with an answer. He just thrust his chair back and shoved Jason’s shoulder as he stormed past him.

“What’s his fucking deal?” Jason asked once he was out of ear shot.

“Watch your language,” Bruce warned with a glare from behind his paper.

Jason exhaled a laugh. “I’m not a kid. I also don’t live under your roof anymore.”

“And I consider that a gift,” Damian muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jason smacked the back of his head.

Damian flew out of his seat and lunged for him. “I will end you, Todd!”

“Maybe when you hit puberty, demon spawn.”

“Damian!” Bruce shouted to get his son’s attention. His son snapped to attention. But then Bruce’s tone was eerily calm when he continued with, “Control your anger.”

It was something they’d been working on since Damian arrived at the manor. Bruce guessed that Damian would always have a temper. But he needed to learn how to control it. Through time and practice, he got better.

Damian took in a deep breath, but still looked like he wanted to murder Jason.

“I will be training,” Damian announced through an irritated sigh before leaving.

Bruce glared at Jason. “Don’t push him.”

“He started it.”

“You claim you’re not a kid, so don’t act like one.”

“Speaking of kids…” Jason started with a smile.

Bruce swiftly stood up. “Don’t even try.”

Then he was gone as well, leaving just Jason and Tim.

“Well, it appears everyone is in a rather bad mood this morning,” Jason joked.

But there was no response from Tim.

“Are you sleeping with your eyes open?!?” Jason yelled.

That woke up Tim and he jumped. “Huh? What?”  

————

Y/N would’ve slept the whole day if she hadn’t smelled the coffee and breakfast.

She winced as she woke up to see if her mind was playing tricks on her.

But on top of her nightstand sat a beautiful, antique tray with a full American breakfast on it, a cup of water, a giant mug of coffee, and a little vase with a tiny flower in it – a single, pink peonie.

Y/N rubbed her eyes awake with a shy smile.

Alfred was way sneakier than she realized if he could bring in a full tray like this and not even wake her up. She must be far more exhausted than she originally thought.

But then a piece of paper caught her eye. A note.

Y/N reached for it.

In the neatest handwriting Y/N had ever seen, she read:

“Perhaps you should take the day to relax. I apologize for my behavior last night.”

Y/N snorted at the word ‘behavior.’ Everything he had done last night was passive. It was more of an energy and tension than actual behavior. But Y/N had to give him credit for being aware of it. He had annoyed her last night, especially when Dick somehow took the fall for her own actions regarding her own life.

She ate the food at a disturbingly fast rate, not realizing how starved she’d felt until taking the first bite.

She would definitely miss Alfred’s cooking when she finally left Wayne Manor… whenever the hell that would be.

Y/N hoped it was sooner rather than later.

‘No, you don’t. Liar.’ A voice said inside her head.

Once Y/N had finished eating at light speed, she threw on a pair of baggy jeans and a cropped sweatshirt. She grabbed her coffee and carried it through the hallway.

She heard typing coming from Bruce’s office. He hadn’t used the room since she starting stay at the manor. So, her curiosity got the best of her and she leaned into the doorframe.

Bruce was wearing a navy polo that fit tight on his toned body. He was behind the desk, typing on the computer with his brow folded in concentration.  

He immediately noticed her presence and looked up from his work.

“Hi,” she said shyly before she leaned her back into the doorframe and took a sip of coffee.

“Hi,” he smiled back.

“Thank you for the breakfast.”

Bruce leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “I can’t take credit for the actual cooking,” he admitted with a smirk.

“Oh, I know.” Then she looked around the study. “I was on my way to the cave when I heard you in here.”

Bruce frowned at that. “I thought you were going to take the day off.”

“I think you thought I was taking the day off.” Then she raised an eyebrow and glanced at all the work spread out on his desk. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“This is Wayne Enterprises, not my…nighttime…activities.”

Y/N shrugged and sipped more coffee. “Still work.”

Bruce rubbed his face. “Guess so.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Y/N walked into the room and didn’t break eye contact. “If you take the day off, so will I.”

She expected Bruce to immediately shoot down her offer.

But he was smirking as he considered her proposition.

“Deal,” he told her before standing up and walking out from behind the desk.

He got unnecessarily close, invading her space.

Bruce held out his hand.

Y/N grinned at the formal gesture, but shook his hand.

But when their hands gripped together, the gesture no longer felt formal. It felt intimate. Y/N’s grin fell when she acknowledged it.

“What did you have in mind?” Bruce asked. He put his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

If he felt the same intimacy as she had, he didn’t show it.

Y/N cleared her throat. “How about something simple? Maybe a walk?”

Bruce nodded slowly. “A walk sounds good.”  

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Y/N sassed.

He shook his head and almost rolled his eyes before gesturing to the door, silently telling her to go first.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was getting an informal tour of the grounds at Wayne Manor from the owner himself.

Y/N listened closely, genuinely finding all the history interesting. Bruce was surprisingly a good storyteller – even if he was more informative than colorful.

“I know you had a hard childhood. But it still must’ve been nice growing up in a place like this,” Y/N tried to tell him.

“I suppose so.”

He glanced at Y/N and found her giving him an encouraging look, as if she was silently begging him to say more, to share more.

But he left it at that.

“Damian is rather fond of animals. That’s why we updated the old outbuilding. He keeps his horses there…amongst other things.”

Y/N chuckled and nodded, “He was telling me about Batcow the other day.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate me telling you this, but I think Damian has enjoyed having you around – all the boys have.”

Y/N hummed and turned to fully face Bruce. “And what about you? Have you enjoyed having me around?”

“Wayne Manor is the safest place for you right now.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bruce.”

But he already knew that.

Y/N waited. Because she wasn’t going to let him ignore her question.

“Dick has taken quite a liking to you,” Bruce said quietly.

“Don’t change the subject,” Y/N snapped.

He opened his mouth to continue, but she cut him off.

“We’re not talking about me and Dick. We’re talking about me and you.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Y/n took a step closer to him. “Why did you kiss me the other night?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Did you not want me to?”

“What does it matter?” Y/N sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I want to know what you’re thinking. I thought I put up walls. But you give me nothing, Bruce. Absolutely nothing. One second I think you see me as a nuisance, then the next you’re fucking kissing me.”

“You’re not a nuisance.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Y/N threw up her arms.  

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” He asked evenly.

Always calm and collected. Overly polite. Controlled. Closed off.

“Forget it,” Y/N breathed and started walking back to the manor.

But after she was a few yards away, she realized she wanted to say one last thing and turned back around.

“Not that it matters. But I did. I did want you to kiss me.”

“Then why did you run away?” Bruce asked.

“Because I knew you would do it eventually. And I was trying to protect myself.”

-

So much for a “day off.” When Y/N was upset, she turned to her work to take her mind off of things. Was it denial? Was it displacement? She didn’t like to dwell on it. And most of the time, there was no one in her life to call her out for it.

Y/N thought she was emotionally distant, but Bruce won that race by a landslide. And she found it infuriating.

It was interactions like the one she just had that made Y/N think everything Dick tried to tell her about how Bruce saw her was utter bullshit.

Y/N arrived to the cave with an energy she was definitely not expecting.

Damian and Dick were training on the lower level while Tim and Jason observed from the sides.

Y/N had seen footage of each of them fighting before. It was one of the research pieces she’d watched while investigating them before figuring out their identities. But seeing it in person was a completely different experience.

Dick was using his escrima sticks,  while Damian had his katana.

Jason noticed her arrival and made his way over with a smirk.

“Was wondering when you’d wake up,” he greeted.

“Please tell me that’s a sword for training and not an actual blade,” Y/N asked nervously while her eyes followed the two dancing around each other. She could even hear the blade slicing through the air.

“Don’t worry. They won’t seriously hurt each other.” He had a little side smirk. “Especially since Dick is Damian’s favorite.”

Y/N looked at Jason. “I always assumed Bruce was his favorite.”

He shrugged. “Dick’s been a father to Damian far more than Bruce ever has.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. It caught her by surprise a bit.

“Can you fight?” Jason asked her.

Her eyes widened. “No. I don’t know how to do…anything. I did one of those boxing workout classes. I hated it. All the instructors are male models, and that’s their side hustle.”

“I can assure you that was not boxing,” Jason laughed. “Why haven’t asked one of us?”  

Y/N shrugged. “Seems like a waste of your time.”

“No, it sounds like a fun time,” Jason corrected.

She laughed at that.

They both watched the two again.

A few moments went by before Y/N quietly added, “I have a gun. I don’t really know how to use it. But I thought it was necessary with my…line of work.”

Jason nodded slowly. “These pansies have a certain aversion to guns.” He looked down at her. “If you need me to show you a few basics, let me know.”

Y/N quickly looked at him. “T-Thank you.”

He laughed. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Jason Todd may have been labeled an anti-hero or even a criminal at one point. But deep down, he was still a Wayne. And even though he had the reputation of the bad boy, they all knew he was a sweetheart deep down. However, Y/N was now just seeing it.

Y/N jumped when Damian was slammed to the ground.

“Jesus,” she hissed.

“He’s fine,” Jason insisted.

But then he leaned closer and started pointing out certain moves to her. 

“With Dick’s gymnastics background, he incorporates a lot more acrobatics and moves that require more flexibility. He’s good at improvisation. He also leans more toward taekwondo. But with his escrima sticks, he also uses arnis.”

He looked down to make sure he wasn’t boring Y/N before he continued.

“He almost moves like a dancer,” she thought aloud, proving she was interested and engaged.

“Exactly,” he nodded. “Whereas Damian is still a kid. It’s less about power and more about agility. Before he got here, he was trained to kill. He’s mastered the sword better than any of us – but don’t tell him I said that. Damian’s had to adjust his technique and turn it non-lethal.” He smirked, “Just think devil ninja and that pretty much sums it up.”

Y/N laughed.

“And Tim?” She asked.

“Tim leans towards Kobudo, which is an ancient style developed by the Japanese. He prefers to use a battle staff. He’s smaller, so his technique is very calculated and controlled. Every move he makes counts for something. He’s extremely observant and can read his opponents like a book. Dick tries to create his openings, while Tim waits for the exact right moment.”

“Smart,” Y/N commented.

Jason nodded in agreement.

She turned back to him. “And you? What’s your style?”

“Brutal,” a voice said behind them.

Y/N whipped around to see Bruce standing behind them with his arms crossed. He’d changed, and was now wearing a tank top and sweatpants. Clearly he came down with the intention to train as well.

Jason didn’t seem surprised nor did he acknowledge him, meaning he probably knew the moment Bruce had arrived. He just didn’t care to notice him outwardly.

“Wing chun. Heavy-weight boxing. Krav Maga,” Bruce continued as if he was just listing of stats. “Angry…” he shrugged, “sometimes reckless.”

Jason scoffed at that.

“And he can’t seem to get over his complex for guns,” Bruce finished.

Jason turned to him. He was just an inch or so taller than Bruce. But he looked like he was twice the width and his muscles were somehow even bigger.

“Should we give her a show, B?” Jason offered with amusement.

“We’re not a spectacle, Jason.”

Jason looked down to Y/N. “Such a party pooper this one.”

She smirked at his sass. Bruce was not in her good graces right now, so she would support any and all mocking of him.

Y/N hadn’t even looked at Bruce since he arrived. And now she was choosing it as a perfect time to finally make her way to her computers and away from him.

Jason didn’t miss the cold shoulder. “What did you do to piss off yet another woman?”

Bruce glared at him, and walked down to the training area with the boys.

Jason followed after him. 

He looked back and forth between Bruce and up at Y/N, a plan developing in his head.

“$100 bucks Bruce can lay out Dick in two minutes,” Jason said loud enough that Y/N could hear him.

Tim and Damian shared a smirk.

Bruce and Dick glared at him.

“I’m not betting against that,” Damian announced.

Tim smiled. “But I will.”

Dick shook his head in submission, “Fine.”

Bruce needed the practice, even though he was aware Jason had ulterior motives with his request. So he just gave Dick a look of consent.

Y/N tried to ignore what was happening, even though Jason made it very clear for her. She heard the sound of fists and feet hitting skin. He heard their grunts of pain and exertion.

It wasn’t until she heard Dick torment Bruce with, “Come on, old man,” that Y/N couldn’t help but turn to watch them below the platform she worked on.

Dick’s teasing worked, but not in his favor.

Bruce no longer took it easy on him. Maybe that’s what Dick wanted, but he was now on the defense.

They were fighting hand to hand. No escrima sticks or gadgets. Just hand-to-hand combat.

Y/N could tell the that Dick was starting to get frustrated. 

Bruce, however, seemed completely calm. He knew all of the boys’ fighting styles and taught them the majority of what they knew. There was a part of Bruce in all of them. It almost made for an unfair fight. 

Their movements got faster and faster. Y/N was struggling to figure out what was even happening anymore.

But just when she was about to give up her observing and get back to work, Bruce managed to get a proper grip on Dick and flipped him over his shoulder.

Dick landed on his back hard. So hard, that Y/N heard the smack and the sound alone made her feel sick.

Y/N gasped, and put a hand in her mouth when the sound came out louder than she expected.

Jason, Tim, Damian, and even Dick glanced up at her.

But Bruce was staring down at his opponent.

“Your weight placement was off and you know how to get out of that hold,” Bruce lectured. “You know better.”

Dick glared up at him.

Bruce offered him a hand up, but Dick ignored it.

“I know,” Dick growled as he got to his feet.

“You’re letting yourself get frustrated. It’s causing your mistakes.”

“I said I know,” Dick snapped louder this time.

Before an argument could really start, Alfred made his presence known by clearing his throat.

All the boys looked up at him, as well. 

“What is it?” Bruce asked.

“I was rather certain you’d forgotten. Seems I was right.” Alfred cleared his throat. “I came to remind you all that the annual gala for the Martha Foundation is tomorrow night at the manor.”

“Can’t we reschedule it,” Damian whined.

Bruce shook his head. “The Court of Owls is made of Gotham’s elite – many of who are invited. If we cancel, it will cause suspicion.”

“You can’t honestly think we should risk that with Y/N being here,” Dick called out, gesturing up towards Y/N.

Bruce and Dick had a silent conversation.

Y/N knew it was about her, so she did not appreciate being excluded.

“Oh, wow. Looks like one of my safe houses is finally more secure than this place,” Y/N spoke up melodramatically.

But she should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy to escape.

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

Next chapter is gonna be fun, guys. 😈 But let me know what you thought of this one. 

#all men have limits #all men have limits part 3 #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #nightwing #nightwing x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne reader insert #batman #batman x reader #batfam #batboys #dick grayson x reader x bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader x dick grayson

[yourmcu]

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

#tony stark #tony stark imagines #tony stark x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x stark!reader #iron man #iron man imagines #tony stark fluff #iron man fluff #marvel #marvel imagines #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #fluff #marvel cinematic universe #mcu imagines #mcu #natasha romanoff #peter parker #rhodey #james rhodes #bucky barnes #steve rogers #clint barton #vision #thor #thor odinson #bruce banner #sam wilson

[vannybarber]

Make Up Your Mind

Summary: You're ready, but Chris is making it seem like he isn't.

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, SMUT, swearing, implied smut, insults.

Your body finally acknowledged the soreness between your legs when you get up to move to Chris' bathroom. You reach for a wash cloth on the rack and clean yourself up. Chris follows behind you with a shit eating grin on his face, clearly reminiscing the previous events.

Chris and you have been friends for about 2 years after working with him in Knives Out. You guys' childish personalities clicked right away and were literally each other's best friends. Only about 7 months back, you boldly told him that you wanted to fuck him. He was nothing less than down and you guys have been friends with benefits ever since.

Well up until recently. You both started acting like real couple. Going out to nice restaurants, touching in public, spending nights at each other houses and visiting each other's families. You both were enjoying the feeling of being together all the time, even without an official label.

Being around him so much grew out even more feelings. Not friendly feelings. But more intimate and longing feelings. To be with him. As his girl. More than just a friend to talk to. More than a nice body to play with.

There had been too many internet speculations asking why you guys don't just date already. Hell, you were asking the same damn question. But unfortunately, you know why. And you hate it.

"That little freaky number you did in there was something else, Y/N. 'Thou art truest freak' in the words of Shakespeare." He laughs, watching for your reaction. You just look at him smiling and shaking your head. The things that come out this man's mouth. You know damn well Shakespeare never said that shit.

"I told you from the start, boo. I know how to put it down." He eagerly agrees, hanging his wash cloth up and checking his fingers.

You observe him through the mirror. His bushy auburn eyebrows furrowed together while he picks at his nails. His sharp narrow nose that you feel against your right cheek everytime you guys make out. His beautiful red lips you've felt in many places on your body, preferably in places your eyes can't see. And his eyes. The ones that hold so much purity and happiness. Those perfect eyes.

This man is everything you want, but he just wasn't ready. That's the catch. That's the thing you absolutely hated. He had major commitment issues and people around you had more of a chance in anything than him ever settling down. It literally caused you physical pain. Because you couldn't change his feelings, no matter how many conversations you guys had or how good you fucked him.

Walking back into the room, you grab your bodycon dress you came over in and put it back on your body. You gather all your other articles of clothes throwing them into your handbag and take it out into his living room. He follows behind you in his grey sweatpants and dark green t-shirt. He always looks so perfect.

You flop on the couch and turn on the T.V.

"You wanna watch The Little Mermaid again, boo?" You turn around looking at him, seeing him raid the cabinets for snacks.

"Do you even have to ask me that?" He yells back when he finds his chips. You chuckle and start the movie.

"NO DON'T START IT YET I'M NOT READYYYY!"

"THEN GET YOUR SLOW ASS OVER HERE!" you yell back at him. His level of immaturity isn't even visible because of how high it is. It's unmatched.

After a few moments, he finds his way on the couch next to you with your double stuffed Oreos and apple juice, passing it to you. He had his veggie sticks cause he's so damn picky.

You both get comfortable and turn your attention to the movie.

After some time, it's the scene were Sebastian is encouraging Eric to kiss Ariel. You wish the real Sebastian would come over and convince Chris to be with you. Maybe he'd listen. Just the thought irritates you.

You huff lowly in annoyance. Chris notices but doesn't say anything. You always got frustrated at this part cause he took FOREVER to finally kiss her. So he brushes it off. Nothing he hadn't seen before.

While the movie was playing, you were getting even more frustrated in that moment. Chris had his arm behind your back and hand resting on your hip, laughing at Flounder. It was like he was playing a game with you that he didn't know he was even apart of. You shifted away from him a little. You hated feeling this way.

Little to your knowledge, Chris was watching you in the corner of his eye. He watched you as your mind raced and move constantly. Your eyes move around a lot when you think hard. He knew something was up.

"Jellybean, what's up?" You turn and look at him, pushing away the feeling the nickname presented you inside. He gave it to you after you bought him a Starburst jellybean gift basket to celebrate the end of you guys' filming.

"What do you mean? I'm fine" you lie right in his face. Like a complete idiot because he can see right through you. You turn back to watch the movie, but he grabs the remote and pauses it.

You roll your eyes, knowing very well he isn't letting this go. Why do you find yourself in these situations? You always end up fishing for trouble and you're not even using bait. It just comes to you. You scratch your head trying to come up with a way to dissolve the situation.

"When are you going to stop trying to lie to me, princess?" Another name he gave you. You prefer it over 'jellybean'. It made your body flutter even more. But at this point, you were tired of faking. Tired of covering up your feelings. Tired of being less than what you wanted to be to him.

Wasting no time, you take a deep breathe and spill.

"You know what Chris? I like you. There. I said it." You slap your hands down on your lap as you spoke.

"And I don't mean as a friend or as a fuck buddy. I've felt this way for a very long time. Even before we started having sex. I thought us doing this would make us closer, possibly forming a relationship."

You glance at him and continue when he doesn't say anything. He just looks at you.

"But it hasn't gone anywhere. I'm tired of faking my feelings towards you. I'm tired of coming over here acting like I just want sex when I want more. Way more."

By the time you finish, your head is down and your fingers are playing with the end of your dress. You cannot bring yourself to look up at him. You couldn't bear the rejection. All you hear are his quiet breaths. You fucked up.

Chris is a real talker. He could talk his ass off for hours into the next day. The fact that he isn't saying anything right now has you absolutely terrified, but ultimately embarrassed. You did this all for nothing.

"Y/N, I- I don't...uh" he stumbles over his words. That's all you needed to hear. You didn't need to bathe in it any longer.

You jump up off the couch, not forgetting to grab the cookies and juice, stick them in your bag and head over to your shoes. Chris is right on your tail calling you, trying to get you to stop.

"Hey princess wait" he calls behind you.

"Chris it's fine. I'm just gonna head home. I'm a little tired." Your soreness was the last of your worries, barely even feeling it anymore. You made an absolute fool of yourself and now you couldn't go back. It was a done deal.

"Come on, baby. I didn't mean to-"

"Chris!" You raise your voice at him. He shuts his mouth right away. Your shoes are on and keys in hand. "Its okay. I just don't feel good. I'll call you later. Tomorrow maybe."

You block out anything else he was saying and step out the door heading to your car. He didn't even try to stop you. He fucked up and it didn't need to get messier than it already was. He watched in guilt as you pull out his driveway and down the street.

You drive in complete silence. Normally, you'd be blasting Partition on the way after getting dicked down, but that was not the case. And it wouldn't be for a while.

Part 2 coming really soon 🤩!

#cevans #andy barber smut #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #steve rogers smut #avengers #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #captain america

[thesoftdumbass]

somethin' to think about

Frankie Morales x reader (feminine pronouns)

word count: 3,800

warnings: caffeine dependency, cheesy movies, the beginning of one curse word but no more. platonic Santiago x reader and Benny x reader. very fluffy and kind of silly but that's how I like it.

summary: Frankie and his daughter have found a home in Stars Hollow, and the single father/diner owner has to admit that he's found a soft spot in his heart his favorite customer.

> my masterlist

Francisco Morales, a newly single father, wanted to settle down and start a new life for himself and his daughter. After stumbling onto Stars Hollow, a quaint and quiet, friendly little town just a little ways away from his hometown, he decided that it would be the perfect place to begin again. The old hardware store that closed down years earlier was priced well and had an apartment above the shop, so with some hard work, Frankie turned it into a diner to sell the food he grew up learning to make from his mother, as well as the stereotypical diner food that he and his brothers in arms missed while they were serving overseas. Life was good in Stars Hollow, Frankie and his daughter being accepted by the welcoming if not nosy townspeople, and now he and the diner had become a staple in the quiet hamlet.

The bell above the door chimes with the entry of another customer and Frankie looks up from writing in his order book to see you heading his way, already grabbing an overly large mug that he keeps on hand just for you.

“Coffee coffee coffee,” you demand lightly and Frankie huffs.

“You sound like you’ve had plenty today already,” he says, filling the mug anyways and sitting it in front of you at your usual seat along the counter.

“Oh nonsense, there’s no such thing,” your tone and face both hold a smile and Frankie can’t help the way his heartbeat jumps in his chest at this.

“One of these days I’m going to start slipping you decaf.”

A gasp leaves you, faux offended at the threat. “You wouldn’t dare!” Frankie’s affirming hum distracts you for just a moment before you start mixing your coffee just the way you like it. “You would lose a very loyal customer, Morales. I’d have to start getting my coffee at Weston’s.”

Frankie’s scoff brings the smile back to your face, as it’s obvious that neither of you will live up to your threats. “Besides, you know I can’t survive a day without the elixir of life, and yours is the best in town.”

“Of course it’s the best, I’m just saying that your heart may soon explode from caffeine intake.”

“And what a sweet, sweet death that will be, my friend. Keep’em coming.”

Frankie has to bite his lip to hide a smile, distracting himself by adjusting the cap on his head so it sits backward. The former pilot may maintain a grumpy exterior at times, but you’ve become a bright spot in his day and your bickering never holds any heat. Another customer needs a refill so he leaves you to your ‘elixir of life’ and heads over, making rounds about the diner to make sure everybody’s happy. When he comes back to the front of the counter, there’s a mop of curly brown hair sticking up behind the thing, a rustling noise being heard from beneath.

“Evie?” At her father’s questioning tone, there’s a bump against the underside of the counter, a muffled “ouch” making its way to his ears. A sigh leaves his lips as his daughter stands from her crouched position, brown eyes locking with his. “You alright, mija?” A quiet “yes” is his answer, so he has to ask the question on his mind. “And why were you crawling around on the floor of the diner?”

A quiet chuckle leaves your lips as the young girl looks shyly at her father, then at you, before answering. “I was looking for my book. I can’t find it, and I thought I might’ve left it back here.”

Evie has so many books that Frankie can’t keep up sometimes, but before he can ask which one she’s looking for in particular, you pipe up beside him. “I think I saw The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy in the library at the inn. Is that the one you’re looking for?”

“Yes!” She brightens, eyes wide. “I must have left it when I was doing homework there the other day.”

“If you want you can come to the inn and grab your book after school, and I can make some homemade hot chocolate just for you. If your dad is okay with it, of course.”

Two sets of eyes turn to Frankie questioningly, and he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. “Of course you can go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, daddy!” She leans across the counter and kisses him on the cheek. “Thank you Y/N.”

“Anytime, sweetie,” you giggle, her cheery attitude infectious.

Frankie looks at the clock on the wall above the counter before addressing his daughter. “Why don’t you go grab your backpack and I’ll walk you to school?”

Evie hums in affirmation and makes her way into the apartment that she and Frankie live in above the diner to continue getting ready for the day. Frankie watches her go before turning to you, only to notice you down the rest of your coffee.

“Do you want one to go?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Your teasing smirk turns into a grateful smile as Frankie steps back behind the counter and pulls out a styrofoam cup with a lid, filling it with the caffeine that you crave. “You’re too kind to me, Francisco.”

“It’s not on the house if that’s what you’re gunning for,” he teases and you fake a pout.

“It never hurts to try, does it?” You stand from your stool, pulling your coat tight around you and reaching for the full cup in front of you. “I’ll settle my tab later. Do you want me to walk Evie back here, or do you wanna pick her up tonight?”

“You’re gonna be here for dinner anyways, I know you’re too tired to cook for yourself after the Friday brunch special. You can just bring her with you if it’s not too much trouble.”

"Your daughter? Trouble? Please,” you laugh it off. Evie was really a perfect child, you and her have gotten along famously since the beginning. Frankie chuckles, nodding along because of course you’re right. “I’ve gotta head to work. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, have a good day,” he waves you away with a small smile, picking up a cloth to wipe down the counter as he waits for Evie to return downstairs.

A long sigh escapes you as you sink into your seat in the diner, your back relieved to sit after running around the kitchen most of the day. Evie settles into the chair across from yours, copying your sigh and both of you make eye contact before bursting into giggles, smiles on both of your faces. Frankie finds you like that, and he can’t help the way his lips twitch up at the sight.

He makes a show of pulling out his order pad and pencil, rolling up his sleeves in the process. “Ah, my two best customers. What can I get for you?”

You hum thoughtfully, opening the menu and observing it as if you haven’t eaten here multiple times a week for years now. “I’m not sure, what would the chef recommend?”

“Well, the daily special is-”

Frankie is cut off as you snap the menu shut, placing it on the table before folding your hands overtop of it decisively. “On second thought, I’ll have the lobster. What say you, madam?” You look toward Evie still across from you, an eyebrow raised and she plays along.

“I believe that the filet mignon and foie gras will do for tonight. And we shan’t forget a chocolate souffle for the table.” The eleven-year-old provides an astounding performance, a posh accent accompanying her words.

The two of you make eye contact for a split second, and your pretenses drop as you once again dissolve into laughter. Frankie only rolls his eyes, accustomed to your antics, though he doesn’t bother to hide the chuckles you elicit. “You two are ridiculous. Burgers and fries it is, then?”

“Why of course, my good sir. And a diet coke for me, please.” He nods and walks away, putting your order in the window and checking on his other guests.

When he comes back to the dining room after speaking with the line cook about another order, there’s someone occupying one of the seats at your table. Your laugh rings out through the diner as Benny, one of Frankie’s old friends, occupies your attention, and Frankie overhears the story being told as he approaches.

“-and suddenly we have to book it out of the river and leave our clothes on the bank. We end up stranded in the jungle, every one of us buck a-”

“Not in front of the kid, Miller,” Frankie chastises as he claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder in greeting.

Benny just laughs as you lean in and murmur conspiratorially, “but you’ll fill me in on the rest later, right?”

“You know it,” and he sends a wink your way as you lean back in your seat, a satisfied smile on your face.

Frankie hears a call go out from the kitchen window that order’s up, and after returning to your table with two plates of food, he takes the last empty chair. You and Evie dig into your food as he talks with his old friend for a few minutes. “When is Will coming in?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. I tried to get him to drive in with me tonight but he decided not to leave his new fiancee until he has to,” Benny rolls his eyes at his brother’s sappy attitude but you and Frankie can tell that he’s happy for him.

The pilot nods, “Pope texted me a little while ago, he’s on his way now.” With a thought coming to him, Frankie grabs your attention with an utterance of your name. “Are you still good with girl’s night?”

With an eager nod, you take a sip of your drink before answering. “Absolutely. I’m already set up for snacks and drinks, and I’ll be scouring my movie collection tonight to find something for us to watch.”

The boys hum in acknowledgment but Evie just laughs softly. “You know we’ll just watch the same thing as always.”

It’s sort of a tradition. Frankie’s best friends from the service don’t live that far away from each other, so every few months they meet up in one of their towns. While they catch a fight or simply hang out and get drinks, you offer to watch Evie, and your weekends together have evolved into binge-a-thons of junk food snacks and cheesy old horror movies.

“And what about it? You know we both have a soft spot for the classics.”

You finish your dinner, fully entertained by the lively conversation, which is only heightened when Santiago arrives at the diner. He and Benny end up eating as well and keeping Frankie on his toes between tables with stories. You might have heard them a half-dozen times before over the years, but you still enjoy the hell out of them, the reminiscences getting even spicier after Evie goes to bed for the night.

Your long workday gets to you eventually and by the time you���re stifling your fourth yawn in five minutes, your company starts to notice.

“You look like you’re ready for bed,” Frankie points out softly.

You hum in acknowledgment, shrugging your shoulders. “I could just drink a cup of-”

“You are not getting any more coffee today, and that’s final.”

“Fine, fine,” you assent to his good-natured firmness.

“C’mon hermosa, I’ll drive you home on my way to the inn. You reserved a room for me, right?” At Pope’s question, you nod.

“‘Course I did, Santi. Can’t have you sleeping on the streets, now can I?”

Santi snorts and stands from his chair, grabbing his jacket off the back of it and tugging it on. “I think if it came down to it, I’d rather bunk with you for the night.” His comment is paired with a cheeky wink and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“As if you would be invited to bunk with me, sweetheart.”

Santi clutches his chest with mock hurt. “You wound me!”

You smile before bringing a hand up to hide another yawn, and Santiago nods his head to the door. “Alright drama queen, let’s go before I fall asleep on my feet.” You turn to address the rest of your small group, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow! Benny, you didn’t forget your room key again did you?”

A momentary look of panic crosses the man’s face as he pats his pockets before finding the object. “Ah! Got it,” he says proudly, showing it to you.

You shake your head with a laugh at Benny and his forgetfulness. “Alright, goodnight everybody.”

Frankie makes sure the kitchen is clean and everything put away before sending the staff home for the night, the last remaining customer his sometimes-pain-in-the-ass friend. He’s just finished wiping down the other tables and grabbed the salt and pepper shakers to refill, taking a seat across from Benny when the other man looks up from his phone.

“So when are you finally gonna boss up and ask Y/N on a date?”

Frankie’s head bobs like a toy as he looks up at the unexpected words, his brow furrowing a second later. “Pardon?”

Benny stretches his legs out, leaning back in his chair in a relaxing stance. “You heard me. You two would be perfect together, and it’s not hard to see that you’ve got it bad for her.”

Frankie just stares at Benny, unamused eyes fixed on his face for a moment before he sighs, taking the cap off his head and rubbing a hand down his forehead tiredly. “I don’t have time to kill you right now Benny, come back later.”

“She’s got it bad for you, too.” Frankie’s head whips up at this, a hopeful gleam in his eyes, and Benny continues talking. “Look, you both have feelings for each other, you see each other every day, and her and your kid get along famously. And everybody knows you’re going to end up together. Last time I was here I even heard her neighbor and that Kirk guy making a bet on which one of you would make the first move.”

Frankie mutters something about “town gossips” under his breath.

“I want you to be happy, man,” Benny says genuinely, the mood shifting.

“I am happy,” Frankie defends gently.

“But not as happy as you could be. I just think you should go for it, tell Y/N how you feel.” Benny stands from the table, clapping Frankie on the back and pulling his friend into a hug when he does the same. “Somethin’ to think about. I’ll see you tomorrow, man.”

Frankie locks the door to the diner behind Benny as he leaves, flipping the old-fashion open sign to closed. Turning around to lean his back against the door, he closes his eyes, considering the possible outcomes for doing exactly what his friend said. It could end awkwardly with neither of you knowing how to act around each other and you avoiding his diner like the plague. Or, the more attractive prospect, it could lead to something he had only imagined, a life with you by his side.

“Somethin’ to think about,” he repeats to himself, making his way to the apartment upstairs to get ready for bed.

“Everett Amaya Morales, I cannot believe you just said that!” When she only shrugs at you, a brow raised with as much sass as an eleven-year-old can muster, you scoff and cross your arms over your chest in slight indignation. “So you would rather wax Bigfoot’s legs than give Frankenstein’s Monster a makeover?”

She looks at you as if it’s an obvious answer, but to you, it’s anything but. “Yeah! Aren’t you curious how much there is?”

“Oh, there’s twelve pounds of leg hair at least, but I would be afraid for my own safety! One bad rip and Squatch could rip my arm off. Frankenstein’s Monster, on the other hand, has daddy issues and no friends, and I for one think that doing his makeup would be a very good bonding experience. Besides, how do you know that Bigfoot wants their legs waxed?”

“How do you know they don’t,” is her rebuttal.

You sigh theatrically, shoulders deflating in defeat. “Ah, yes, the Sasquatch don’t live by societal gender roles.”

When Evie simply laughs at your reply, you stick your tongue out at her and she returns the gesture before collapsing back against the arm of the couch.

“How could I eat so much takeout and still want ice cream?”

“Well you’re in luck, my friend. I went by the ice cream section when I was at the market earlier, and since I know it’s your favorite, I happened to grab a tub of cookies and cream.”

She looks up at the mention of her favorite flavor. “Extra chunky oreo?”

“Only the best for you, dear,” you respond and laugh as she only throws her arms over her face dramatically.

“But I’m still so full!”

“Eh, the ice cream melts in your stomach and fills in the cracks between all the other food. You’ll be fine.”

Poking her head up from the couch, she looks at you disbelievingly. Or like you’re crazy. Or both. “Yeah...I don’t think the digestive system works like that.”

“Oh it definitely doesn’t, that’s just something my great uncle used to say so we wouldn’t judge him for eating ice cream after a big dinner. That side of the family is obsessed with frozen treats. I, unfortunately, inherited that gene.”

“So…..ice cream?”

“Ice cream,” you concur, getting up to grab some bowls of the sweet stuff for the two of you to eat on the couch as you resume the movie that was interrupted by your earlier disagreement.

You must nod off because you wake to your phone alerting you to a new text. It’s Frankie, telling you that he’s on his way to your place to pick Evie up. Door’s unlocked, you reply as an invitation to come inside when he gets here.

You’re only half paying attention to the television when Frankie lets himself in, shutting the door quietly behind himself so as to not disturb movie night. You meet his eyes and nod your head toward Evie, who fell asleep in a pile of blankets on the floor a little while ago, and in the dim light from the tv, you see his eyes soften with a smile.

“She’s out cold,” you murmur when he gets closer to you. You pat the couch next to you, noticing the way he seems a little tired after his night out. “Boys night end early?”

Frankie looks at his watch, squinting to read the time in the low light. “It’s two am.”

“Ah,” you yawn. “That must be why I’m so sleepy.”

Frankie chuckles quietly, accepting the silent invitation to sit down with you. When you scoot closer to him on the couch bringing your fuzzy blanket with you, he can’t help but breathe you in, enjoying this moment, Frankie reaches for your hand that’s now wrapped comfortably around his arm, rubbing circles across the back of it with his thumb.

You watch the movie in comfortable silence for a little while, only half paying attention, before you break it. “D’you have fun tonight?”

Frankie hums an affirmative, leaning his head over on yours against his shoulder as he does so. “Did my two favorite girls have a good time watching terrible movies?” Your comment about bad movies being the backbone for modern cinema dies in your throat when Frankie’s words sink in. His two favorite girls? Plural?

You look up at him, eyes soft, and you know that if he looked down at you right now he would be able to see the adoration on your face, so you press your head further into his shoulder. “The two of us always have a good time.”

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie is watching you with the same adoration on his face, as he can’t help but thank whatever higher powers that he and Evie found you in this little town. As he feels his chest swell with warm feelings, he thinks once again of what Benny said. If Frankie confesses his feelings for you and you don’t reciprocate, things may get awkward, but if you feel the same and he never finds out, he could hardly live with it. Besides, as he spends time with you, Frankie has a suspicion that your feelings may be on the same plane as his.

Frankie’s hand that’s been moving circles across yours stops, and instead, he grips your hand in his, surrounding it with warmth. You turn your face back to Frankie’s and meet his eyes, and the breath hitches in your chest at how close the two of you are. “I think you and I would have a good time too.”

His deep voice in your ear sends a shiver down your spine and your lips turn upward in a gentle smile. “Yeah?” Your voice sounds breathy to you, but you can’t find it in you to care when he’s looking at you like that.

“Yeah,” when Frankie’s nose brushes against yours, you can’t hold in the sigh that leaves your lips, your eyes closing in contentment. When he speaks again, Frankie’s breath ghosts over your lips, and warmth fills you.

“The guys were asking about spending the day with Evie tomorrow, they wanna have some time with their niece before they leave.” You hum softly, prompting him to keep talking. “I was thinking that while they do...it would be nice for the two of us to do something together.”

“Like a date,” you ask, your eyes opening once again. You’d hate to bring that up and be wrong, but your need for confirmation outweighs the risk of possible embarrassment.

When he nods, your fears dissipate and a smile lights up his face in the dark. “Definitely like a date.”

You bite your lip, looking down as your face warms, but Frankie reaches a hand to cup your chin, a silent encouragement to meet his eyes. The heat you find in them permeates you, and you find yourself nodding shallowly. “I’d love to go on a date with you, Francisco.”

“Yeah?” Frankie finds himself asking this time, his heart picking up speed at your affirmative repetition.

With a kiss placed oh so delicately to your forehead as if he’s reassuring himself that you feel the same way, Frankie turns back to the awful movie currently flashing across the tv screen. You follow suit, content to discuss the details of your date with Frankie later, a smile spreading across your cheeks even as you try to suppress it. With Frankie’s hand now back to holding yours and your head on his shoulder, you doze off, the presence of your two favorite people a comfort. And even in your dreams, you can’t wait to go on a date with your grumpy diner owner.

Me, writing another single father AU with one of my favorite characters even though I don't want kids? It's more likely than you think! This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while (a la Luke and Lorelai except a little different) and I'm glad I finally let it out for y'all. If you enjoyed it, please let me know! And I'd love your recommendations for which Pedro or Oscar character I should write for next. Thank you lovelies for reading!

If you’d like to be notified when I post something new, message me or send an ask and I’ll add you to any one of my tag lists 💜 (I'll be reforming my tag list, so I'm not tagging anybody this time!)

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #catfish x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #if the title sucks that's because it is the literal last thing i did other than these tags #i'm still watching gilmore girls and i'm finally almost done with it #but a few seasons ago i had to stop myself from searching luke danes fics #so this is what i did instead #you're welcome i guess lol #and the story about the ice cream is true. that's my uncle danny's logic behind eating dessert right after dinner #my family famously loves ice cream haha #triple frontier au #gilmore girls au #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia #benny miller

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter eight: "There is no I in Team"

Word count: 8,4K

Summary: It's Spencer's birthday, and the team meets Mikey, Lu, and Frank. Reader is no longer in denial, but she has no idea what she is doing. Also, Rossi is here.

Warnings: Cursing, frustration, please don't hate me.

A/N: Hi! I hope you enjoy this fluffy chapter 'cos... well... things are a few chapters away from getting a little messed up. Thank you for all the support! your likes and comments keep me writing! Love you all!

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

Suddenly, working at the BAU wasn't just catching serial killers. After almost two years at the FBI, I was dealing with some serious issues that were starting to get in the middle of me and work: Spencer Walter Reid.

I didn't want to face it, and I knew I was trying to deny it as much as I could, but even when I kept telling everybody no, deep down, I knew the answer was yes.

I was falling for my best friend.

But I refused to deal with my feelings. There were more important things to do, like catching killers and celebrating Spencer's 26 birthday. So yes, I was screwed.

Penelope organized a breakfast celebration at the BAU with the whole team on his birthday, and I was in charge of the cake. I baked it myself the day before, and Lu decided to help me. And by "help me," apparently, she actually meant "drive me crazy."

- "So, when is Spencer's birthday?"- she sat and sipped her tea at the kitchen island as I continued mixing ingredients.

- "Sunday, October 28th, why?"

- "Just asking. And what's the plan?"

- "Tomorrow Friday, we'll throw an early birthday breakfast at the BAU. Then, I was planning to have a huge surprise party for Spencer here Saturday night. If we are called on a case, then we are doomed. But if we are home, we should definitely celebrate Batsy's day."

- "Aha"- I cut her a questioning gaze, and she just smiled- "I was just trying to make conversation."

- "Ok..."

- "And waiting patiently for you to face the fact you are in love with Spencer."

I nearly dropped the mixer bowl as soon as I heard those words.

- "Lu, what the fuck?!"- I knew I was all kinds of shades of pink, but I did my best to keep my cool and pretend to be stony.

- "I'm just saying it's about time you drop the act and deal with your feelings."

I hated the fact she was right. I was in love with Reid. But I didn't want to talk about it. Honestly, I wasn't ready to acknowledge those feelings out loud 'cause it would make them real. And all I wanted at that minute was to pretend those feelings didn't exist.

- "The only feeling I am dealing with right now is with how pissed I am with your innuendo."

I turned my back at Lu and started looking for the right pan for the batter. I had bought three sizes just to make sure I'd get it right. I also made a mental note not to tell her that.

- "There's no innuendo. I'm telling you upfront. I know you are in love with Spencer."

- "What?!"- Lu laughed and walked to the kettle to pour herself another cup of tea.

- "You do remember I've known you since we were six years old, right?"

- "Yes, I remember that. But that doesn't mean you know how I feel about Spencer."

- "No, of course not. It means you can stop acting. I see through you! you are baking the man a cake."

- "So?"- I looked at her and raised an eyebrow, trying my best to look serious and not busted at all.

- "So you've never baked a cake for me, or Mikey, or Frank!"

- "Well, if you are all jealous, I'll bake one for your birthday then!"

- "(Y/N), please. The cake is just an example. You and I both know you are in love with him."

- "I am not"- I sighed and turned off the mixer, 'cos the batter was ready.

- "(Y/N)"- my friend whispered a few seconds later in a softer voice.

- "Lu?"

- "You are in love with Spencer Reid."

I took a deep breath and crossed my arms on my chest as I looked at her. She was smiling, pleased. It made me think of Frank's request a few months earlier when he asked me he and the guys wanted me to date Reid. I thought it had been cute. Now I was wondering if they all suspected I had feelings for my best friend.

- "Lucy, why are you so obsessed with this?"

- "'Cause he is in love with you too, and I want you to be happy"- and her answer kind of broke my heart.

- "Reid is not in love with me,"- I whispered and returned to the cake to pour the batter into the pans.

- "Why are you so sure?"

- "'Cos I know him! And I know he is in love with someone else"- Lu frowned and shook her head, in disagreement with my words. Like she knew him better.

- "Spencer Reid is in love with you, (Y/N). I've known it since the day I met him."

- "Spencer Reid is in love with JJ. I've known it since the day I met him 'cos he actually asked her out."

- "Oh, come on! You told me that story! Nothing happened!"

- "'Cos she doesn't like him, but you should see him when he is around her! and now that she is dating, it's so obviously killing him!"

I let my arms fall at my sides, defeated, and Lu tapped on the seat next to her. So I sat by her side and held the cup of tea I had left forgotten earlier when I had started baking.

- "So, tell me why you think Reid likes JJ"- Lu demanded, and I somehow managed to tell her what I felt without looking desperate. Or that's what I thought.

- "He worships the floor she walks upon. And I get it, she is cute, she is fun, blond, and friendly. I bet every guy she meets loves her. And it's awful 'cos I love her too, she is my friend. She's the sweetest."

- "But?"

- "But what?"

- "Sounded like you were going to tell me something like "But I hate her 'cos I am in love with Reid."

- "I don't hate JJ! I'm happy she has Will, though she hasn't told us about it. And I love working with her! she is sweet and amazing!"

- "But you are sure Reid loves her"- I just nodded- "Well, you are wrong."

- "Trust me, I'm not."

- "Well, then I'll have to meet that JJ girl and see if Reid looks in love with her."

- "How are you planning to do that?"

- "I don't know"- Lu simply shrugged and smiled- "Something will come up."

And something did come up. Spencer's birthday party. October 28th, 2007.

We threw him a surprise party at my apartment, and everybody came. Derek, Garcia, Prentiss, JJ, Hotch, Lu, Mikey, and Frank. It wasn't just Spencer's 26th birthday party. It was me not hiding anymore. I couldn't hide myself from the team if everybody were invited to my house and about to meet my friends. But I didn't care. I didn't actually think about it much at the moment, 'cos all I cared about was giving Spencer the best surprise birthday party on earth.

And I think I nailed it, 'cos he had no idea what was going on when he knocked on my door at eight. He was innocently holding a bag with some snacks I had asked him to bring for the movie marathon I told him we would have. And he believed me. He was adorable.

As soon as I opened the door and saw him there, my heart skipped a beat. Maybe that's why I didn't say much; I just smiled and invited him in.

- "Is your electricity out? Why are all your lights off, (Y/N)?"- he innocently asked, right before turning on the light and hearing everybody yelling "Surprise!!"

- "What the..."- Reid looked around in shock, not getting what was going on. Frank jumped over and nearly tackled him with a hug, making me laugh. Garcia turned to me in shock, but I just shook my head. That's Frank.

- "Happy barf day, doc!"

- "Thank you so much! Hey!"- Spencer looked around and looked at me. I smiled and watched how everybody got closer to him and hugged him. I don't know if he was ok with it, but he didn't seem to complain. The birthday boy hugged everybody that night.

Spencer's point of view

I don't think anyone had ever thrown me a surprise party before. I never suspected it. Not even a little. I was so glad they had done it, though. I was so happy to have friends and family to share that day with.

It was my fourth birthday at the BAU, the second (Y/N) had organized, and somehow I didn't feel alone anymore. People weren't friendly to me for being condescending. They actually liked me.

- "Doc! You are gonna love these!"- Frank nearly tackled me with his present- "It's from Mikey and me. We thought you might appreciate some new addition to your collection."

I chuckled and held the vinyl records he had given me: Elton John, The Clash, and Arctic Monkeys.

- "Collection?"- Morgan asked and looked at me, surprised- "You collect vinyl records, Reid?"

- "Yeah, I do actually,"- I smiled and kept my eyes on the records- "I think it's a unique classic format. It sounds better than digital, and it includes warmth, richness, and depth to the music you don't find in a cd or mp3."

- "And not just classical music?"- Derek was somehow surprised- "You actually listen to any other musical genre?"

- "What are you talking about?"- I argued, almost insulted- "Just because you think I'm a nerd doesn't mean I only listen to classical music. Last year I got a Johnny Cash record. You were there!"

Morgan raised his hands and smiled, defeated. I chuckled and looked at Frank and Mikey.

- "Thank you, guys."

- "Don't worry about it, come here"- Mikey opened his arms and pulled me into a hug. I tapped on his back and smiled.

I noticed JJ's look at Penelope and wondered if she was surprised I had friends out of the BAU. (Y/N) and I were always together, and we usually talked about what we do with her friends during the weekend. Our friends. They were our friends.

- "We already gave him his presents this morning,"- Garcia explained to Frank. I don't know why maybe she thought it was necessary to make sure he understood and let them know they weren't the only ones who had given me presents.

- "Ok, kids, we've got pizza, beer, and a Halloween cupcake for the birthday boy"- (Y/N) walked over and put on a party hat on my head. I smiled and also received the bottle of beer she handed me.

- "Thank you, chipmunk"- I whispered and felt her arm around my waistline, wrapping me sweetly as she rested her body against my side.

- "You are welcome, honey. Happy birthday."

The way she looked at me made me feel I was the most important person in the world for her for a solid minute. And I wondered how I could make her feel the same.

- "So, doc. How was the cake?"- Lu stood by my side and smiled at JJ, who was just talking to me about nothing important.

- "Good! It was delicious! Did you help (Y/N) bake it?"

- "No!"- she shook her head and chuckled- "I just came for moral support yesterday."

- "It was good! Real good! you can't go wrong with chocolate and raspberries."

- "I'm glad"- she smiled and looked at JJ. I shook my head, embarrassed, and made the proper introductions, though (Y/N) had already done it.

- "You have been (Y/N)'s friend since you were kids, right?"- JJ asked, and Lu smiled again, nodding.

- "We were all neighbors growing up. And... you and doc, how long have you been working together?"

- "For the last... three years, I'm the communication liaison of the team"- Lu nodded and sipped her cup of tea.

- "He has been an incredible addition to the Three Stooges' lives"- Lucy joked and turned to me for a moment. Then, she scanned my face carefully, keeping a big, warm smile on her face.

- "Mikey and Frank were so excited to hang out with you. They keep hoping to find Lila Archer each time they go to your house."

I heard JJ laughing and looking at me, surprised. Lu just kept her eyes on her tea for a moment and then stuck out her tongue to me playfully.

- "Lila Archer?"- JJ asked, shocked- "Are you two still talking? Is there something I don't know about?"

- "No! no!"- I quickly tried to explain- "The guys are obsessed with her. Frank, mostly, and they love to bug me with her."

I turned and looked at them. Frank was hugging (Y/N), and Mikey kept trying to steal her beer from her hands as she just chuckled. I stared at them for a second, and I know I smiled. Somehow I felt slightly jealous of Frank and Mikey for always being so physical with her, not overthinking everything they did around her. I always wished I could be like that. But then again, they weren't in love with her.

- "So you and (Y/N)'s friends get along pretty well"- JJ's voice was curious. I kept thinking she was shocked I had other friends.

- "Actually, we consider Spencer our friend,"- Lu answered and chuckled- "Please, don't tell them I told you this, but they always get excited to see you."

- "Me?"- I was shocked- "Why me?"

- "'Cos they admire you a lot. Frank keeps saying you are the coolest guy he has ever known."

I didn't know what to answer. I had never been one of the popular guys, so having Lu telling me those guys thought I was cool was pretty shocking and heartwarming.

- "Hey, doc! I heard you met Mrs. (Y/L/N),"- Frank said from the other side of the room, causing everybody to look at me. I nodded awkwardly and took a sip of my beer- "She's hot, isn't she?"

- "Frank!!"- (Y/N) yelled and hit his arm- "You are talking about my mom!!"

- "I am not ashamed, Nugget! You know what I think about her!"

- "Wait, princess!"- Morgan was still laughing when he started talking- "Your mom is Mrs. Robinson?"

- "I don't know! Frank is just a perv!"- my best friend argued, looking disgusted.

- "Your mom is a hottie. Deal with it!! Mikey thinks so too!!"- Frank threw his friend under the bus trying to save his own ass. Everybody kept laughing as (Y/N) gasped and turned to see him.

- "You are a sick bastard too!!"

- "I haven't said anything!!"- Mikey tried to explain, but it was useless. Everybody kept chuckling.

- "You are thinking about my mom!!"

- "Well, I'm pretty sure Reid thought about her too!"

- "What?! Why me?!"- I shrieked, and I know I blushed.

- "You saw Mrs. (Y/L/N)! Didn't you think she was hot?"- Mikey looked at me and snickered.

- "She was very welcoming and cordial with me"- I tried to say the most neutral things possible.

- "Dude! come on! she is hot!"- Frank argued and looked at me in shock

- "She is my friend's mother!"

- "Yes! please stop talking about my mother!!"- (Y/N) kind of shouted but chuckled a little at the end.- "Instead, can we talk about how hot Morgan looks tonight?"

- "What?"- Derek raised an eyebrow- "Where is that coming from, princess?"

- "Pure honestly"- (Y/N) replied with a warm smile- "Doesn't he, Garcia?"

- "My chocolate thunder is always the center of my attention,"- Penelope answered and winked at Morgan- "And it's not just tonight. He is always delicious."

I shook my head and took a look around. All my friends were together in the same room. For the first time ever. Only Ethan was missing.

- "(Y/N), where do you have more dishes?"- Prentiss asked her as (Y/N) walked back from the kitchen, carrying a tray with drinks.

- "I'll help you"- I quickly ran to the kitchen and grabbed a few more dishes, plus napkins and a few coasters.

- "Thank you, honey bunny"- (Y/N) whispered and smiled at me when I walked back with everything.

- "You surely know your way around this house."- JJ pointed out, with a somehow suspicious tone of voice.

- "We hang out here a lot."- I explained and looked around, trying to find my beer.

- "Here you have, doc"- Mikey handed me a cold one, and I nodded- "The band has a gig Halloween night. If you are in town, you have to go."

- "Sure! I'd love to!"

- "You have a band?"- Garcia asked awed, and Mikey nodded- "You two? together?"

- "Yeah"- Mikey confirmed and looked at Frank, who talked with Morgan and (Y/N)- "Nugget and the doc are our biggest fans. They never miss a show when they are in town."

- "You go to rock shows?!"- Garcia was now in shock and hit my arm- "Does he go to the shows wearing band's t-shirts and jeans?! or in his usual wardrobe??"

Mikey chuckled and looked at me with a confused stare.

- "They don't hang out with you outside work a lot, do they?"

- "Yes! We do!"- and Penelope nearly jumped, insulted by those words- "We are just surprised 'cos there's a whole lot of our resident genius we haven't seen yet! like... going to rock shows!"

- "So you haven't seen him drunk? 'cos drunk doc is a beast!"

- "I am not a beast!"

- "I haven't seen him drunk! Boy wonder!! Why are you wilder with (Y/N)'s friends and not with us?"

- "We are his friends too,"- Mikey corrected her and smiled- "And we might push doc a little further, like the day we bet we couldn't drink a box of milk in 30 seconds."

I laughed, thinking about that moment, embarrassed and amused at the same time. It was true; the guys and I had a completely different dynamic than the one I had with my work team. Probably because from day one, neither Lu, Mikey, nor Frank labeled me as a dork. Well, sure, I was one, but so were them. They made me part of the group instead of being the "weird one" of the group. Somehow with Mikey, Lu, and Frank, I could be just plain Spencer and not Doctor Reid and allow myself to do silly, weird, dorky things, not afraid to be judged.

- "When did that happen?!"- JJ was in shock, overhearing that conversation and walking over with Lu.

- "A few weeks ago,"- Mikey answered and chuckled. I wasn't drunk that night; we just had a few beers. And it had been Frank who was incredibly persuasive about trying the milk challenge.

- "I made an equation, and we tried to beat it,"- I explained JJ, and Mikey laughed right away- "According to it, a regular human being might drink a whole box of milk in 33,3 seconds, and Frank argue he could do it in 30."

- "Spoiler, he couldn't"- Mikey added- "But he gave it a good fight, nearly died, choking."

- "Technically, he would have drowned"- I corrected- "It's called "dry drowning." It happens when water is in the mouth or nose and the vocal cords spasm, trapping the water, causing the person to asphyxiated."

- "That's a real thing?"- Garcia questioned in shock.

- "Yes, you drown, but you don't get any water in your lungs. Instead, it goes through your nose and your mouth, and the muscles close off and spasm."

- "Wow"- Mikey tapped on my back a few times and smiled- "I love that you know so much weird shit, doc. Happy birthday!"

- "Thank you..."

My birthday celebration was a blast. Mikey, Lu, and Frank were the hit of the party, and the BAU loved them. Penelope had a rocky start with Mikey, I think 'cos she was a little jealous I had done more weird things with them than with her, but everything was smooth after they shared their third beer.

I laughed so much my face hurt. Morgan and Frank told the weirdest and most incredible stories. Prentiss came up with a few fun games to play, and everybody was on board with them. Even Hotch. Lu and JJ talked a lot, and the two of them seemed to get along just fine.

(Y/N) was incredible. She made sure everything was perfect. The fact my birthday party had Halloween decorations melted my heart. She had all my favorite snacks, pizza toppings, and drinks. Even a Halloween cupcake. What else could I ask for in life? I had everything I always dreamt of: a family. And a best friend who loved me. Not in the same way I did love her, but you can't always have everything in life, right?

- "Thank you for everything, Munchkin!!"- one drunk Garcia hugged (Y/N) for the hundredth time, standing by the door. At two in the morning, she was the only one left, along with Morgan, who was her drive back home.

- "See you Monday at work, batgirl"- (Y/N) hugged her and giggled as Garcia nearly choked her with her tight embrace.

- "And you come here!!"- Penelope hugged me too and kissed my cheek- "I love you so much, boy wonder!! I'm so happy you are happy, 'cos you deserve to be the happiest you can be!"

- "Thank you, Garcia,"- I giggled and looked at Morgan- "Are you going to be ok?"

- "Hey!"- Penelope hit my arm (for the hundredth time that night) and frowned- "What do you mean if he is going to be ok? I can behave!"

- "I know you can! I'm sure you can! I'm asking Morgan 'cos it's late and he has to drive!"

- "I'm gonna be ok, kid."- Derek answered and smiled at me- "Do you need a ride?"- I shook my head and heard the words I was secretly waiting to listen to all night long.

- "You can crush the couch if you want to,"- (Y/N) suggested and turned to me, shrugging.

- "I can help you clean,"- I added right away, and she smiled. Morgan stayed still, staring at me, and I swear he was trying to read every single facial movement I could do. So I just looked at him and smiled.

- "Ok then, we'll leave you two alone. See you Monday at work"- Derek tapped on my back and gave (Y/N) a small hug. Garcia winked and walked out.

Just like that, it was finally just the two of us.

- "Did you have fun?"- (Y/N) whispered after she closed the door and rested her back against the wood. I nodded and smiled, staring at her eyes shine.

- "Very much. This was actually my first surprise party."

- "Ever?"- (Y/N) questioned and frowned- "Really? then I am glad I didn't know that before, 'cos I don't think I could have managed the pressure of having to make you the best surprise party on earth."

- "You raised to the occasion"- she smiled and walked to the kitchen. And I followed her.

- "Are you hungry?"- I heard her asking as she opened the fridge. I grabbed a bunch of dishes and glasses on my way to the kitchen and piled them on the sink.

- "Not really. I think it was really too much pizza."

- "Spencer Walter Reid, there is never enough pizza,"- she argued, trying to stay serious.

- "My stomach is telling me otherwise."

- "So there's no room left for a slice of chocolate raspberry cake?"- I turned around and found her smiling from the fridge. She held a cake and giggled playfully.

- "You baked another?"

- "I had some free time this morning, and I had the feeling this is how the evening was going to end."

I don't think there are enough words in the vocabulary to express how those words made me feel. And most of all, I don't think my brain functioned correctly each time (Y/N) looked at me how she was going that moment.

- "So honey. You, me, your new blu ray of the 7th season of Doctor Who."

- "Which blu ray?"

- "The one I just got you, dork."

When I thought I couldn't love her more. There it was. My doom.

- "You are just making this incredibly impossible for your birthday,"- I joked, and she burst out laughing.

- "You can see through me, doctor. I hate it."

- "I'm the best profiler in the BAU, (Y/N)."

- "Really? then why didn't you discover I was planning this party?"- I made a pause and bit my inner cheek. (Y/N) turned to me again and crossed her arms on her chest, waiting for an answer.

- "I'm guessing 'cos you are the best liar in the BAU."

- "You are god damn right."

We cleaned the living room, left most of the dirty dishes piled on the sink to take care of them in the morning. Then we cuddled on the couch with a cup of tea and some cake each.

- "Are you comfortable?"- I asked her wrapping my arm around her neck as she rested her head on my shoulder.

- "Perfect, you?"

- "Me too"

- "Hit it, then. It's time travel time, doc."

(Y/N)'s point of view

I woke up in Spencer's arms. He was taking me bridal style to my room. My face was pressed against his chest, and I swear I felt butterflies in my stomach just feeling his smell.

- "What is going on?"- I mumbled and saw him smiling at me.

- "You were snoring on the couch, so I'm taking you to bed."- he whispered, placing me carefully on my bed. Then, he took out my shoes and covered me with the blanket.

- "Stay,"- I pleaded and held his hand- "Don't sleep on the couch tonight. Stay with me."

I kept my eyes closed, 'cos it was embarrassing to see him as I asked him to sleep with me on the same bed.

- "Are you sure?"

- "It's your birthday. You can't sleep on a couch. And it's not like it hadn't happened before."

I knew I was right. We had slept together in the same room many times while we were out of town during cases. We had also slept together in the same bed before when Reid was detoxing in my house; though we never actually talked about it, it just happened. Those times we literally just passed out due to exhaustion. But this time was different. That was me asking him to stay with me. And he didn't refuse.

I heard him take off his shoes and then walked around the room until he reached the other side of the bed and got under the covers with me.

- "Good night, batsy,"- I whispered and snuggled closer to him. He didn't even hesitate and hugged me tight, leaving a sweet kiss on the top of my head.

- "Good night, chipmunk"- his voice was soft and careful, just as his hands were caressing my back. I sighed and snuggled even closer, craving more of his touch.

- "Happy birthday, honey bunny."

- "Thank you, ma chère"- those words gave me shivers, and the way he murmured them made me feel things I shouldn't have felt for him, especially if he was in that bed with me.

I didn't want to be in love with Spencer. But I couldn't stop those feelings. I had to remind myself he didn't see me the same way. It was hard to deal with those feelings when I was cuddled with him in my bed. And I knew I had gotten under that situation willingly. But I just couldn't help myself. For once, I wanted to know what it felt like to sleep in Spencer's arms. I could pretend to be cool the following day, but right there under those blankets, all I wanted was to pretend he loved me the way I loved him.

Is that too sad? Maybe pathetic? Holding your best friend close in the middle of the night, pretending he is your boyfriend. Feeling how you fall deeper and deeper in love with him, knowing you will never actually kiss him or even romantically hold his hand. But it doesn't matter, 'cos what he gives you every day is way more important than that.

I snuggled closer to Spencer, feeling how he locked his arms around me. I inhaled deeply, trying to burn in my memory how everything felt like. I looked at him for a second and decided to force myself to sleep. I knew it would be hard, 'cos though I was weary, I wanted to enjoy that moment for as long as possible.

There I was, The Ice Princess like Paul had called me once, melted in Spencer's arms, wishing there was a way to stay there forever.

- "Are you ok?"- I heard Reid whisper suddenly, slightly moving to put an eye on me.

- "Yeah, why?"

- "Because you can't sleep."

- "Am I keeping you up?"

- "No... I was worried you weren't comfortable."

- "I am"- I murmured and sighed- "I was just going over the day again. But I'll fall asleep in a minute."

- "Ok..."

- "Are you comfortable?"- he hummed in response and caressed my back sweetly until I started zoning out slowly.

I didn't want to fall asleep, 'cos being awake for once was better than dreaming.

Yes. As cheesy as that.

I woke up to the smell of coffee the next morning. Spencer had made breakfast, and he had also done pretty much all the dishes. As a result, my house was cleaner than it was before the party.

- "You didn't have to clean the whole place on your own,"- I argued as I sat at the kitchen island and sipped my cup of coffee.

- "I know, but I wanted to thank you for throwing an amazing party- Spencer smiled and held his cup of coffee with both hands for a moment- I wanted to make you breakfast, but all I managed to do was the Spencer Reid Special

- "You know I love it!"- I chuckled and watched him turn around to get me a bowl of cereal and milk.

- "Breakfast of champs!"- I teased and grabbed my spoon- "Did you sleep well?"

- "Yes, very much. You?"

- "I don't think I sleep. I fell unconscious. I didn't even hear you get out of bed. I was too tired. It's been a long couple of weeks."- I chewed my cereal as Spencer sat across from me.

- "Yes. But we've managed well without Gideon"- Spencer brought him up, and that surprised me. He hadn't talked about him or even said Gideon's name for the last few weeks.

- "Yeah, we did a fantastic job"- I reassured his words, and he nodded in silence- "Are you excited to meet David Rossi?"

- "Yeah! I mean, that man is a legend. I can't believe he wants to leave retirement and join the BAU again after all these years."

- "I heard he is freaking loaded"- I finished my cereal and sipped my coffee- "Garcia told me that he shouldn't even work anymore with all the money he has made from his book."

- "Why do you think he wants to come back to the BAU?"- Spencer asked and looked into my eyes with a childish expression.

- "I have no idea. Maybe being a millionaire is not as exciting as catching serial killers."

I stood up as I spoke and opened the fridge. There was still some cake left, and I knew Spencer would love to have his sugary coffee with even more sugar.

- "Or perhaps he has unfinished business,"- he said and smiled as soon as he saw the pastry.

- "I just hope he is nice. I don't want to deal with an asshole with a gigantic ego who can't handle working as a team."

- "I heard Hotch saying he is very nice."

- "Assholes are usually nice with Hotch."

- "Are you implying Hotch is an asshole?"- I set to dishes and frowned at Reid as I cut a slice of cake.

- "No! I am saying assholes respect him. And they are colleagues. I don't know if Rossi will work well with younger people, though."

- "We'll have to see tomorrow."

Reid was right. And I didn't want to create a false idea of David Rossi in my head before I met him. I had already read all of his books, and when Hotch told us he might join the team, I hyperventilated for a bit of bit. I mean it when I say David Rossi is a legend. Working along with him would be the most incredible experience ever. But only if he was nice.

I had worked hard for almost two years to get where I was in the BAU. And I didn't want to go through the whole process again, proving to Rossi I deserved to be where I was.

- "So, do you have any plans for today?"- Spencer asked me suddenly, and I just shook my head- "Mikey said they had a show on October 31st."

- "Yes! And that happens to be also Frank's birthday! So be prepared, 'cos if we are in town, we are gonna party hard that night!!"- Spencer smiled and nodded.

- "Then maybe we could go get him a present later,"- he suggested.

- "Deal. And perhaps some new Halloween decorations."

Oh! His excited face was priceless. That boy loves Halloween as much as I do, and each year we got all the best decor to keep our houses festive all year long. 'Cos we are Halloween dorks.

- "You know, Garcia and JJ were pretty shocked last night when they found out I go out and party with you and the guys."

- "Why?"- I cut him a second slice of cake and put it on his dish. He shrugged and sipped his coffee.

- "I guess they didn't know I am human."

- "Don't say that, honey."

- "It was a little upsetting too."

- "Why?"

- "'Cos they kept calling them "your friends," referring to you, and they kept telling them they are my friends too. What? So now I can't party or have friends?"

Spencer was honestly upset with those facts, and I could totally understand why. Everybody treated him like a kid and a nerd. They now knew he did things that weren't expected from someone like him, like going to rock shows and partying. So, of course, they were going to be shocked.

- "Have I ever told you meeting you is the best thing that the BAU has given me?"- I answered, in a rush of honesty that came out of nowhere.

- "No"- he mumbled and pouted like a kid- "Why are you telling me this?"

- "'Cos I wanted you to know."- I smiled and stared at him for a second- "Never let anyone make you feel you are less than awesome, Spencer Walter Reid. 'Cause you are the most amazing person I've ever met."

The way he looked at me, in a weird mix between shock and gratitude, melted me. After that, he didn't say anything; he just blushed. And I guess I was too scared to continue talking, 'cause all I managed to do next was excuse myself and lock in the bathroom to shower.

Spencer's point of view

I walked into the bullpen the following Monday, ready to spread my Halloween love. After spending Sunday with (Y/N), I was in a fully Halloween mood. We had gotten Frank a birthday present, also did some Halloween shopping, and even got pumpkins to carve that day after work. October is my favorite month, and Halloween is hands down my favorite season.

- "I'm going to eat you!!"- I groaned on Morgan's neck and made him jump in frighten as Prentiss laughed, staring at the scene. I was wearing a Frankenstein mask, carrying bags of candies and a bunch of decorations for my desk and the office.

- "Reid!"- Derek complained, but I just smiled and took off my mask.

- "Happy all hallows eve, folk!!"- I waved and walked to my desk- "To paraphrase from Celtic mythology, tomorrow night, all order is suspended, and the barriers between the natural and the supernatural are temporarily removed!!"- I joked and threw Emily a plastic vudú head. But Morgan wasn't in the mood, I guess.

- "See, that right there is why Halloween creeps me out."

- "You are scared of Halloween??"- I narrowed my eyes and looked at him, not getting what he was talking about.

- "I didn't say I was scared. I said I was creeped out. There's a difference there, youngster. You should look it out."

- "What creeps you out about it?"- Emily asked what I was about to.

- "I don't know, people wearing masks"- he pointed at me and added- "I don't like folks in disguises."

- "That's the best thing about Halloween. You can be anyone you want to be"- I argued and threw some candies to him to cheer up his morning.

- "Nah, I'm pretty good just being me."

- "Yeah, why is it that neither of those points of view surprises me?"

Emily joked and shook her head. I was about to discuss Morgan's point when I saw (Y/N) walk into the bullpen. She was carrying a gigantic plastic Jacko lantern while wearing a zombie mask we had just gotten together the day before.

- "I want brain!!"- she moaned, and Emily laughed as soon as she saw her.

- "Not you too, princess!!"- Morgan whined as soon as he saw her- "We were just talking about this."

- "What? You are not a Halloween fan?"

- "Not as much as you two nerds"- he answered and shook his head- "You know what, though? On the flip side, it does provide a pretty good reason to cozy up with a scary flick and a little Halloween honey."

And as soon as Derek said those words, (Y/N) and Emily frowned, disgusted.

- "Halloween honey, now I am creeped out,"- Emily argued, and (Y/N) shook her head, leaving the Jacko lantern on her desk carefully.

- "Guys, he's here,"- I warned them, trying to be as discreet as possible, but I don't think it worked. David Rossi walked over, along with section chief Erin Strauss. (Y/N) made a gesture and reminded me to take off my mask, as I quickly did my best to look presentable. Rossi just smiled at us and walked straight to Hotch's office.

- "So, do you guys think he is going to stay here for good?"- (Y/N) asked, standing by my side. She reached out and handed me a bag filled with my favorite candies for no reason and just smiled.

- "I don't know. Maybe they asked him to fill in while they find a replacement for Gideon,"- Emily said, her eyes glued at Hotch's office, though none of us could see a thing of what was going on in there. We just saw Strauss walking out and JJ walking over, most likely to announce Hotch we had a case.

- "So, what did you guys do Saturday after we left?"- Morgan asked (Y/N) and me and smiled pleased, probably ready to tease us over anything we might tell him.

- "Nothing really, we got naked and did the dirty on every spot you sat on in my apartment."

(Y/N) answered as casually as possible, not even paying attention to his face. Emily burst out laughing, and I know I blushed, looking down at the files on my desk.

- "There's no need to get all defensive, princess,"- Morgan answered and shook his head, smiling at her.

- "Well, it's not the first time you ask about what we've done with that teasing tone of voice, so excuse me for giving you the answer you wanted to hear."

- "Guys,"- I whispered and looked over. Emily and Derek stood up as soon as they noticed Hotch and Rossi were walking towards us.

- "SSA David Rossi, this is SSA Emily Prentiss"

- "Sir!"- she smiled and shook his hand as he nodded.

- "SSA Derek Morgan,"- Hotch announced, and my friend shook Rossi's hand.

- "It's an honor, agent Rossi."

- "Please, just Dave."

- "SSA (Y/L/N)"- he said, and (Y/N) shook his hand too.

- "Nice to meet you, sir."

- "And Doctor Spencer Reid"

- "Sir, if I could talk to you later about your work with the Scarsdale skinner. Psycho-linguistics is an incredibly dynamic field, and the fact that your profile for his reading habit ultimately led to his capture is something I find so incredibly intriguing."

- "Reid"- I know I was carried away when Hotch interrupted me- "Reid, slow down. He'll be here for a while. You can catch up with him later."

Rossi was a little overwhelmed. I'm guessing it was because he was meeting many new people, which can be pretty intimidating at any age. So I smiled and nodded.

- "Sorry,"- I whispered and looked at Hotch to see if he was mad at me, but no. If anything, he was amused.

- "No problem, doctor,"- Rossi added and smiled.

- "Maybe you guys can talk on the jet,"- Hotch suggested, surprising Rossi.

- "The jet?"

- "We've got a jet now"- and Hotch even smiled at Rossi, who was honestly shocked.

- "Are you serious?"

- "Yeah, it comes pretty handily. Come on, JJ is waiting."

Hotch and Rossi walked away to the conference room. Emily followed them, along with Morgan, who also teased me and smiled. I stood still and waited for (Y/N) for a second and felt her hand on mine as we walked to catch with the team. She just smiled, and I did the same. Moments like those were the ones that made me keep going, kept me sane, and made me feel honestly happy. I didn't want it to end.

But it did. Eventually.

The case took us to Carrollton, Texas. It was the first one we had with David Rossi as a part of the team, and it was weird. Rossi didn't really know how to work as a team, and if there was something the BAU had in its DNA was working together, no matter what.

The first time on the field with him, he barely talked to (Y/N) or me. As a matter of fact, she then pointed out she felt we were on his way. In fact, he collected his thoughts and wrote everything he might come up with but never spoke it out loud. So we had to take the words from him.

- "The man is a legend, (Y/N)"- I sipped his coffee and looked at how my best friend shook her head. We were sitting at the Carrollton police office, waiting for Hotch to finish talking with the police chief so we could deliver the profile to all the officials.

- "So? The fact he is a famous profiler means he can't fucking talk to us? give me a break! he is acting like a diva!"

- "He and Gideon created the BAU"- I tried to make a point, but I knew I didn't have any good point to save Rossi from my best friend's.

- "We are ready to deliver the profile,"- JJ announced, and the two of us stood up quickly- "Hey, I'm sorry you missed your concert,"- she whispered as we walked to meet the rest of the team.

- "Yeah, I was looking forward to seeing Frank and Mikey's band live,"- I said and smiled at her, surprised she remembered it.

- "Were your friends too upset?"

- "No, they are already used to it, which is actually pretty upsetting too. That means we've lost a lot of shows. But they know it's because we are working, and not because we don't want to go"- JJ smiled at me and chuckled slightly.

- "What? You still can't believe I go to rock shows?"- I asked her and raised an eyebrow, trying to understand her reaction.

- "No, it's just that you keep saying "we," and it makes you sound like you are an old married couple who does everything together,"- she answered and shook her head as she pointed at (Y/N) and me. I didn't know what to say at that, and I don't think (Y/N) heard her, or she would have said something (anything) to JJ. I just stared at her confused, and she cut me one more smile before we heard Emily speak.

- "There's a sophistication and patience in what this unsub does that suggests a level of maturity. We believe this puts his age in the mid-30s to 40s range."- Prentiss started describing the serial killer we were hunting. I turned to her and nodded, ready to continue giving the profile.

- "Michelle Colucci was taken from the primary crime scene and disposed of at the tertiary crime scene four days later. That means she was held somewhere for at least three days. You can't really just hold a victim anywhere for days on end, so he most likely has access to a house of some kind."

- "And he's also fairly tech-savvy"- Morgan continued- "The fliers were made on a computer, and it's probable that he used a device to intercept the last victim's phone call."

- "Witnesses in the victim's neighborhood say they might have seen a white man putting up fliers, but none of them could describe him. Even with all the media this case has received"- Hotch added. One of the detectives sighed, annoyed we couldn't give him anything better.

- "Great"

- "Actually, what that tells us is that there is absolutely nothing remarkable about this man,"- (Y/N) said and looked straight into the detective's eyes- "He is exceedingly average. Average height, average build."

- "It extends to his professional life as well,"- I added and nodded at her- "He most likely works in a field where he doesn't stand out. Doesn't really make a mark."

- "His lack of distinction is part of his psychopathy,"- (Y/N) said and took a look around the room- "We have hundreds of interactions with people every day. Most of those involve someone overlooking someone else. Most of us don't pay attention to being ignored, but to this kind of unsub, each oversight is intentional, especially when it comes from this object of sexual desire. He begins to obsess over her until she is all he can think about, and the rage builds until he has to attack that person."

- "So he is pissed off that nobody noticed him?"- the sheriff asked and narrowed his eyes. Most people get upset when they find out serial killers do what they do for such pointless reasons.

Hotch was starting to explain his plan to the sheriff and how we would make him contact the police when his attention focused on the tv. The news showed the exact same mask the killer was using on his victims, something we had explicitly asked everybody not to share with the press.

- "JJ, how'd they get that?"- Hotchner's voice was shocked and upset. JJ looked at him, confused, shaking her head.

- "Not from me! Hotch, I called the local police departments, and I stressed withholding the mask!"

- "I called them"- Rossi pointed to the tv as soon as he walked into the room and didn't give it much thought to what was going on. We all looked at each other, confused, and waited for Aaron's reaction.

- "What?"

- "I said the FBI think the mask means he's impotent,"- Rossi explained, and none of us moved or even said a word. All we could notice was how Hotch's face was trying to hide his anger.

- "Can I speak to you for a second?"- he asked David, and the two of them walked away.

- "So, assholes were usually nice with Hotch, right?"- I whispered into (Y/N)'s ear and heard her chuckle. Morgan looked at us and frowned. I guess it wasn't the time for humor after all.

- "So the legend likes to fly solo,"- Prentis whispered as she stood by our side.

- "Are you surprised?"- (Y/N) crossed her arms on her chest and sighed. All of us kept an eye on the door that separated us from Hotch and Rossi.

- "I don't know. I wasn't expecting this today, but I can't say I'm shocked either"- Emily murmured and shook her head- "I just thought maybe he'd know how to work with a team."

- "Now I'm scared,"- (Y/N) said and looked around- "Do you think he knows how to work with females on the team? Or will he keep asking us to bring him coffee?"- Prentiss chuckled at (Y/N)'s words, and Morgan placed a hand on her shoulder.

- "Come on, princess, he is old but not that old."

- "I already went through a lot to validate myself in front of Aaron and Gideon the last two years"- (Y/N) confessed- "I am not planning to do the same with him. He has to know, everybody in this team is here for a reason."

- "We are not letting him do that,"- Derek assured her and cut him a warm smile- "Personally, I won't let him do that."

We caught the killer later that very same day. Well, Rossi killed him, to be completely honest. The team reached his house and saved the last victim. She was hurt, but she was going to be ok soon. The neighborhood was filled with kids trick or treating, and the fact the area was surrounded by police cars and ambulances alerted everybody.

- "Honey..."- (Y/N) whispered and held my hand as she walked me down the street- "Those kids are watching the police procedure, and I don't wanna ruin their Halloween."- she said and pouted.

- "Do you wanna give them some candies?"- I asked her and opened my satchel- "I still got some of the ones you gave me."

- "I love you so much"- she kissed my cheek and grabbed some of the candies. I stayed still for a second and just stared at her walking to the kids and how their faces lit up when they saw the candies. I guessed that's how I looked whenever she walked to me.

–

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Next update: June 2nd, 2021

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Matthew Gray Gubler #criminal minds #Criminal Minds fanfiction #Criminal minds season 3 #Criminal minds reader #Spencer Reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #fluff #series #diwk #babymetaldoll writes

[candescentclitoria]

What About You? What About Me?

Pairing: Zelda Spellman x Reader, Other Character x Reader.

Warnings: Does unrequited love count? Cause that shit hurts.

Co-Writer/Editor: @empatheticroses​

A/N: This took a long while mainly because my friend and I had classes up our asses.

You had been pining after her for years. Two, to be exact, but it felt like an eternity with how your attempts to let her know had been disregarded. Specifically, when you would do little things to help her work as the Unholy Choir’s director—bringing her cups of crisp cold water, sometimes cups of hot tea when she had a sore throat. When you would visit the Spellman residence, just to see more of her and to say ‘hi’ to the family, you would help her tidy up, make her drinks, tiny snacks; even helping to clean up after dinner. Your help didn’t go unnoticed by the other residence members, who thanked you with either a hug, specifically a Hilda hug, those were the best or a kind tone of voice. 

Whenever Zelda did notice, she would nod and gently pat you on the head. Saying a quiet ‘thank you.’ Perhaps you were petty for wanting more gratitude from the redhead.

Months go by, Zelda was with Marie now, and for a while, you thought you could handle it; and you did for the most part. You were holding it well, all the way up till Hilda and Cee’s wedding reception. After Sabrina had saved the coven from “The Uninvited,” the evening’s festivities continued. Sipping on wine, you innocently looked over, you saw Zelda and Marie kiss, after that, it was over, you had to leave. Tears in your eyes and walking, you accidentally bumped into Hilda. “Darling, what’s wrong?” The blonde asked, her hand gently grasping your forearm. You shook your head, “No, I am fine; I don’t want to ruin your night. I just have to go.” You said, not without looking away at Zelda one last time. Hilda looked at you after you turned your head to her; an understanding look from the blonde was all you needed from her before you left.

Everyone had noticed how you craved the attention and acceptance from the redhead, even her sister. When it came to it, Hilda was your shoulder to lean on when Zelda was seemingly prospering, and you were shriveling, dejection, and hurt filling your soul. When Zelda had married Faustus, you tried your best to support her. Being her friend, you felt you needed it; however, Hilda told you that feeling the way you were, betrayed and hurt, was perfectly fine. 

When Zelda had come back from her Honeymoon under the effects of the Caligari Spell, you tried your best to reach her, yet she pushed you away, saying she had always been that way. When she had the spell broken, you were right by her side, placing a hot cup of tea in front of her. You had pushed yourself to dig your happiness’ grave just to please her, your mental and emotional health pushed to the side to prioritize her’s. To say that you were breaking was an understatement. You were already far gone, broken,  yet you chose to stay, pampering Zelda as she walked off with another. Hilda held you as you sobbed that night, wailing at the heartbreak that consumed you once more. 

Your legs push you to the main foyer of Dorian’s, a quiet ‘lanuae magicae’ leaving your lips as you walk. Your surroundings turn from those of the nightclub to your bedroom; quickly, you move to gather your things, using your magic to finish quicker. Your suitcase, full of your clothes, was ready to be put in your car. Any type of electronic you own is packed separately and carefully. Your bed is stripped of its dark grey sheets and comforter, packed in another suitcase. You were doing it. You were leaving. Finally, after years of pining after Zelda, pampering her every need and want, and your suffering, you were putting yourself first. You decided then and there; you would never let yourself get hurt just to please someone ever again, mainly when they chose not to acknowledge you and your attempts to please them.

Changing your clothes, you place your dress in the suitcase with your clothes, zipping it up and teleporting it to the trunk of your car, your other bags following as well. By now, your trunk and backseat were bound to be full, perhaps even your passenger seat. Walking downstairs, you grab your spare money jar. It was meant for paying bills, but you wouldn’t need to pay them for a while, not until you settled down somewhere else. 

Ten thousand dollars in cash, you had ten thousand dollars. That itself was more than enough combined with your current amount in the bank.

With a small sigh, you turn off all the lights with a wave of your hand, and staring back into the darkness of your living room, you shut the door and leave. Your first stop was the Spellman residence. No one would be home, so it was perfect for you to get in, get out, and leave a note for Hilda. An apology. You apologized for so many things in the letter you had no clue what it was about anymore, just an apology, you supposed.

 Admitting it hadn’t been hard, but you would miss your chaotic adoptive niece, always causing something to happen in Greendale. Ambrose, still having to help her fix the mistakes. Your little, yet highly elder, nephew. His small spouts of wisdom from all his years of living.  Hilda and her kind heart, her ability to calm you down just by existing. And Zelda,  there was so much to miss about her, the snooty remarks, the ways she’d reel you in hook, line, and sinker. She was leaving you deft and dim, leaving you to crack and pour. 

The letter was addressed to Hilda, and you had hoped that she wouldn’t tell Zelda with the begging inside the note. You hoped she would tell Ambrose and Sabrina and tell them not to let Zelda know. You were moving on. That was that. 

What you hadn’t expected when you left and arrived in Scarsdale, a small quaint town outside of Greendale, was to meet a woman. A beautiful, kind, and acknowledging woman. When you had bumped into each other, her coffee spilling all over her, you repeatedly apologized, saying you’d buy her another coffee and pay for her dirty clothes to be cleaned. She nodded and let you guide her to the coffee shop, buying her a replacement drink and a pastry. And then, she asked you on a date. Her name was Edalyn, Eda for short. She was in her thirties, much younger than Zelda, and very foxy. She had bright ginger hair, wild like a lion's mane, yet well kept. Her eyes were very light brown, and in the sun, they were golden. 

Eventually, one date turned into two and two into three. Soon enough, five months of seeing each other passed, and you decide to move in together. Eda herself turned out to be a witch. 

Yes, it did remind you of Zelda, but you had Eda now. You didn’t need Zelda, and you didn’t crave her affections anymore. You desired Eda’s, and she gave it freely. Whenever you would bring her little snacks or drinks, she would kiss your cheek, take your hand and say ‘Thank you.’

When you would bring her lunch for work- dinner if she stayed later than usual- she would pull you into her lap and nuzzle into your neck, mumbling tiny ‘Thank you’s. Fixing her a bath before bed rewarded you with kisses all over your face, tiny ‘I love you’s leaving her throat. Even if you didn’t do anything for her, she would kiss you, whether it was on your cheek, neck, lips.

 This is the affection you always deserved. You reminded yourself.

 Eda fixed you, and she said that you set her as well. 

This is the affection you deserve.

 At night you would cuddle into her arms and fall asleep to the sound of her heartbeat, her chin resting on the top of your head. 

You deserve to heal.

Some days, Hilda would apparate to you, checking in on you. She would kiss your cheek and hug you, telling you that when she finished apparating, she would teleport a basket of pastries to you. She would ask you how you were doing if you had met anyone. You told her you had. You told her how happy Eda made you, how well she treated you. Hilda would smile and place her hands on top of yours, “You deserve every bit of affection she gives to you! So long as you return it!” And you did, you told her. Every time Eda would be affectionate, you would be affectionate back. A smile would cross her face, and she would tear up, “May I say something?” You’d nod. “Zelda is… she’s going nuts dear. She hasn’t heard from you, and she thinks you're just ignoring her. Just be careful alright? You know Zelda, she always does something bizarre when she needs an answer.” You had nodded and Hilda frowned slightly, “I have to go now. Sabrina and Ambrose miss you dearly; we all do. And don’t worry, we haven’t told Zelda what happened.” A small ‘thank you’ left your lips, and you smiled at Hilda. “Bring Sabrina next time, okay? Maybe Ambrose if possible.” She would nod, and then, she would be gone.

The next time she visited you, Sabrina was with her, and Eda was home. Hilda approved of Eda quickly and telling you she, as Sabrina would be right back, they disappeared and reappeared, this time there. Hilda’s warm arms welcomed you, and you teared up as you laid your head against her shoulder. Sabrina moved to wrap her arms around you, and she nuzzled into your shoulder. 

Tears freely flowed down her face, her brown eyes almost shining. “I missed you, Auntie (Y/N).” A shaky, “I missed you too, kid,” escaped your lips, and you kissed her forehead. You turned your head to look at Eda. “Eda, this is Sabrina and Hilda, Hilda, Sabrina, meet Eda.” Hilda had moved to hug her immediately, thanking her for taking care of you. Sabrina shook her head gently, little chuckles escaping her mouth.  After Hilda had finished her ‘thank you’s, she had set out to your kitchen, with yours and Eda’s permission, to cook some dinner.

Sabrina gently put her hand out, “It’s nice to meet you. Auntie (Y/N) talks about you to Aunt Hilda all the time!” Eda chuckled, moving her hand to grips Sabrina’s, “And have I made a good impression?” 

“The best.” Sabrina glanced at you. Your hands were busy making the broth for the soup. “Anyone who makes my Aunts happy has my full approval.” A smile graced Eda’s face, and she looked at you. “I make her that happy?” Sabrina Nodded. “Yeah, My other Aunt, Zelda- the one (Y/N) is in hiding from- held (Y/N)’s affection for a long time. One day she had enough and left, finally choosing her happiness and mental health over someone’s Auntie’s. My Aunt Zelda was foolish not to realize what was in front of her all this time, but it’s too late. (Y/N)’s moved on, she’s happy now, and I can’t thank you enough for helping her fix herself, Ms. Eda.” 

“Thanks, Sabrina; I’m glad I make her that happy.” Sabrina nodded and walked off to the kitchen, leaving Eda to her thoughts. She never knew how happy she made you and the fact that she knew now? She wanted to give you the best life possible, so she promised herself she would.

Eda’s eyes glanced to look at you as you worked beside Hilda. A smile was plastered on your face, and Eda couldn’t help but smile as well. She walked over behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your cheek. She was whipped for you, no doubt. 

Another thing you hadn’t expected, after being told that Zelda had no clue you had indeed left, was for her to turn up on your doorstep. She looked paler than usual, her hair was the slightest bit frazzled, and her makeup was much more minimal than usual.

“Thank Hecate. I’ve finally found you.” Blinking rapidly, you open your mouth to speak, “How the hell? How did you find me? Who told you where I was?” Shaking her head, she steps past you into the living room. “No one, but that fact that others knew and I didn’t hurt. Let me guess, and you told Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose to hide it from me that you left? Am I right?” A small nod is all you can muster up, eyes glancing up into hers. “Well then, it’s time for you to come home. I’ve realized I made many mistakes when it came to you. You’ve been by my side through everything, and I want you as mine.” 

You raise your brows in shock. Is she serious?

 “You’re- You’re joking, right?” You say quietly, fists clenched at your side. “No, I’m not. I realized that I’ve been horrible to you. I didn’t even consider your feelings or your mental health; I’m sorry (Y/N).”

A raspy voice calls out to you, “(Y/N), what’s going on, babe?” 

Eda!

She rounds the corner and moves to you but stops as she lands her eyes on the redhead. “Who is this?” Closing your eyes tightly, you gently take Eda’s hand. “This is Zelda, Eda. Zelda, this is Eda, my girlfriend.” Zelda’s eyes widen, her hands raise slightly, but she puts them back at her sides. “So you’ve… you’ve taken a lover.” You nod, hand tightening on Eda’s. “Yes, I have.” 

A growl escapes Eda’s lips, and she glares at Zelda, “What the hell are you doing here? After everything you’ve done to her, you have some nerve.” Zelda throws her hands up, stepping back slightly, “Trust me, I have no harmful intentions; I just wish to talk to (Y/N).” You place your hand on Eda's shoulder, shaking your head when she looks at you. Now wasn’t the time for Eda to lash out. Truthfully, Eda always had a temper, letting her anger sometimes get the best of her. She was never abusive in any way, instead she tended just to cry or punch a pillow. Her rage was never brought out on you. 

“What do you want, Zelda? Why’d you come looking for me?” Zelda gently grabs your hand and moves with you to sit down on the couch. “As I said earlier, I’ve realized how I’ve made you feel. Forgotten, unloved, disregarded: like you don’t matter, but you do, I promise. It took me a while to realize that I’m sorry (Y/N). Please, come back with me, give me another chance, and I promise I will make it up to you. I miss you, darling” A scoff leaves your throat, anger slowly taking over your calm mood.

“You’re joking, right? You’ve got to be. Zelda, why do you think I left? I left because you pushed me to the side and treated me like I didn’t matter. You don’t get to make me feel like shit; you don’t get to parade around my house and throw a pity party for yourself. You had every chance to miss me before, miss me when I was at the wedding, miss me when I left early, but you chose to miss me when I moved to Scarsdale and finally found someone that cherished me! Someone that showed me the love and affection I deserved when you wouldn’t do any of that! You have no right to claim that you’re upset when you didn’t notice how much I craved your attention; how much I cried over you! When you married Faustus, when you fell in love with Marie, Hilda held me while I cried because I felt like you didn’t love me. Hilda held me every time I was hurting because of you- and I chose to stay because even though I was in so much emotional pain, I cared about you more than I cared about myself!” Tears come to Zelda’s eyes; her hands clench against her chest. 

“So if anything, fuck you, Zelda Spellman, fuck you for thinking you get to march into my life and confess your love. Go back to Marie; maybe she’ll kiss your ass and make love to you.”

Small sobs fall from Zelda’s lips, her form starts to shake, and she wraps her arms around herself. Your eyes widen, and you glance at Eda. “Marie is gone (Y/N).” You look at the broken ginger before you, sighing, “I’m sorry, but this allows you to grow yourself.” You say, looking at her with compassion despite the storm of anger raging inside you. Zelda looks at you and nods timidly, “I...I will let myself out. I hope you have a good life here, thrive the way you deserve, darling.” Zelda says before walking towards the door, and then she leaves. Eda’s hands gently land on your shoulder and you move your hand on top of hers, “It’s over (Y/N), you don’t have to worry about her hurting you like that anymore.” A nod is all you can muster and you turn around, placing your head against Eda’s chest. Small sobs leave your throat, hands gently holding Eda close by her waist.  That was it; you had finally put your foot down, finalizing the burned bridges between you and Zelda- and as much as it hurt, you felt better than before.

#zelda spellman x reader #zelda spellman #zelda x reader #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #CAOS #zelda spellman x mambo marie #hilda spellman #ambrose spellman #sabrina spellman #mambo marie

[thedistantdusk]

Arcadia, Chapter 4

Well! What could happen next to our star-crossed investigative pair? Yeah idk, man... somehow, this fic got a lot darker than I intended. Anyway! Thanks again to the same folks, without whom this story wouldn’t be possible. None of this story is safe for work, and this chapter is no exception ;) 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

D A Y + F O U R

She’s not sure when she wakes up. Her eyes blink open in the bleary morning… that foggy gap between night and day. Blue-green light streams through the windows, coloring the bedroom like it’s underwater.

He’s the first thing she notices, all warm and curled beside her. Harry… her Harry. A sad smile graces her lips as it all comes flooding back. Mike. The tulpa. The shower. Harry…

But together, all of those things are uncomfortable. Bits of it were nice, but the whole thing makes her stomach churn. It’s much easier to—

She presses her bum against him, hoping that wakes him up. Hoping he takes the hint. Harry heaves a deep breath, but doesn’t acknowledge her. Ginny bites her lip and wiggles back. Again.

Finally, he responds. But not how she’d hoped.

“Let’s… not jump to starting that up again,” Harry murmurs into her ear, his voice graveled with sleep. “Ok?”

She whips around, brow furrowed. “So you’ve suddenly become unattracted to—?”

He barks out a humorless laugh and reaches for his glasses. “We both know that’ll never happen.” He takes her in, reclining on the tufted headboard; she can’t help but feel flattered by the red patches that bloom on his cheeks. “Erm…” He clears his throat. “Could you get a dressing gown, actually? I really want to have a serious conversation and…”

He’s never been able to concentrate while she’s naked, has he?

“Sure.” For some reason, her skin prickles as she rises to her feet to pad across the carpet. Exposed. She feels exposed, even though Harry’s probably seen her naked more times than she has. Because this time, it’s not so much that he’s seeing her body naked— it’s that he’s about to discuss things she’s tried very, very hard to deny.

Ginny emerges from the closet in a white dressing gown and gives Harry a little twirl. “Happy?”

His lips curl in a tired smile. “Not… exactly. But I’m hoping to change that.”

“Oh?” Ginny settles in the desk chair. She’s not keen on this conversation, but some part of her recognizes it’s long overdue.

Harry begins by clearing his throat again. “So. Erm.” He places his fingers in a steeple and studies them. “As I… admitted last night, I’ve never stopped loving you. It’s been an awful, awful five years, but frankly it would’ve been worse if we’d stayed together, under those circumstances.”

She opens her mouth to object, but he raises a hand to forestall an interruption.

“Let… let me finish. Because after Percy died...” He shoots her a significant look. “You changed. Ok?”

“That’s not exactly fair,” she snaps, peering at her painted toenails. “Of fucking course I changed. If I didn’t change, I’d be a bloody sociopath. Is that who you wanted to shag?”

Harry heaves a deep sigh. “No. And I’m not going to let you get away with twisting things… again. Ok? Please, just let me finish.”

She presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth. For fuck’s sake, why does she already want to cry?

“You changed,” Harry continues, “and I really don’t blame you for it, but you refused to talk about Percy, or that night, or- or honestly, even anything remotely sad! Ever!” He pauses to collect his thoughts; guilt stabs at Ginny’s stomach. She wasn’t aware this frustrated him quite so much…

��You threw yourself into schoolwork,” he adds, blinking at the far wall. “You lost interest in things you loved. We still had sex, but it was…” He winces. “Unattached. It was… it was like it didn’t even need to be me there, in particular.” His eyes flit back to hers. “I tried to talk to you about it loads of times, but then when you joined the Unspeakables, you just used that as an excuse.”

Traitorous tears drip down her cheeks. She brushes them away to defend herself. “I was already interested in joining up before that,” Ginny insists, her voice warbling. “You weren’t there that year, Harry. You didn’t see what it was like at Hogwarts. The Unspeakables were putting out all this… this rubbish misinformation about you and about muggleborns, and—”

“—All of that is well and good,” Harry interrupts, “but the fact is that you became a different person after Percy died, and after nearly a year of living with that, I’d had enough.” He shrugs. “And even five years later, you’ve never sought help, as far as I know. Professional help, from someone who knows what they’re talking about. Not the type of help you find at the bottom of a pint.”

He’s right, of course. It’s like a stinging slap in the face, but he’s bloody right.

“So!” Harry clears his throat again. “As much as I… enjoyed last night, that can’t happen again if we don’t fix what split us up before. You’re still convinced you killed Percy. Until you’re not? This”— he gestures between them— “can’t work. Full stop.”

Ginny swallows and stares into her lap. “I’m not responsible for my brother’s death,” she whispers, emotionless. It’s a mantra, an oath, one she’s so accustomed to repeating that it’s turned foreign and unfamiliar on her tongue.

“Oh, I’m aware,” Harry says, spreading his palms. “The whole bloody world is aware, Jenny.” He sucks his teeth. “But you aren’t.”

There’s a pause. Ginny bites her lip, tempted to launch the spring-loaded denial she’s learned through years of counseling. But this time, it doesn’t come.

Because Harry knows better.

Shit.

That fact settles in the pit of her stomach; what are the chances, really, that she found herself trapped and playing house with the only person on earth who knows better.

“I was the last to see him,” she mutters, eyes downcast. “I told him he’d never replace Fred. I was drunk. Stupid. Stupidly drunk.” She grips her head in her hands, but the words don’t stop. They’re shooting from her, spurred by years of grief and regret and bursting forth like a steam engine.

“My stupid fucking temper,” she continues, every syllable dripping with self-loathing. “Ruining everything. And then he goes and—” She makes a flailing gesture. “Offs himself. Right on my mother’s fucking birthday! The day before your parents—”

“I know,” Harry whispers, his voice pleading. “Ginny, I know. But please, love, it’s not your fault. It’s never been your fault.”

She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe. It’s too much to say it aloud, to admit it, to let the waves of regret wash over her. There’s a scuttling of movement as she blinks ahead, gaping like a fish out of water. She’s not even surprised to feel Harry wrapping his arms around her and bringing her back to the bed. To feel his lips pressing to her temple as her body wracks with sobs. And she can’t do anything but lean into him. She can’t do anything but surrender, completely. To indulge in feeling raw and vulnerable and alive.

She doesn’t know how long it takes to come to. It’s not until she’s clinging to his chest that she draws a deep breath.

“You never told me any of this,” Harry says softly, mournfully, his hand playing with her hair. He loves her hair. He’s always loved her hair. With a final sob, she admits— if only to herself— that she misses letting him love it. She misses how he’d bury his face in the crook of her neck. How he’d inhale deeply, right at the crown of her head, and blink down at her with a dreamy smile.

She misses him.

Fuck. She misses him. And not just shagging him… but the whole bit. The late-night snacks and discussions on quidditch plays and heated debates about the best brand of toilet roll.

“What… what if I agree to work on it?” she finally whispers, eyelashes thick with half-dried tears.

Harry sighs; his hands still haven’t left her hair. “If we both agree to work on it… because trust me, I’m not doing fantastic either.” He lets out a chuckle. “Do you know how weird that was, being the stable one for once? Anyway.” He waves this off and continues. “If we both work on it, with proper mind-healers…” He swallows. “I don’t see why we couldn't be physical. Eventually.”

She pulls back to give him a watery grin. “I love you,” she murmurs. For the first time in years, her chest feels full. Her heart warm. Like there’s a chance at something in the future that doesn’t involve work and sadness and takeaways.

But speaking of work.

“I’d erm. Like to keep things with us private,” she says, playing with a piece of lint on the duvet. “Especially from work. And my family. Because…”

The thought of Attica’s face, pinched in disappointment, is nearly enough to replace the progress they’ve made over the past day.

“No,” Harry agrees quickly. “That’s. Yeah. Especially from Ron.” He shudders. “Can you imagine how well that would go over?”

“Huh! That’s ridiculous, Harry.” She bats her eyes at him, her expression the picture of innocence. “You mean you don’t want my brother to know that you went down on me and promptly spunked your—”

He cuts her off with a laugh, tossing a pillow on her face. She pulls it off with a giggle before settling beside him.

“Didn’t think you noticed that,” he admits, trailing a finger down the side of her face. “I really hoped you were asleep.”

She stifles a yawn. “Mmm. Don’t have to be Hermione to put that one together. Clue one: you were down there, which you’ve always… enjoyed.” She sleepily raises her eyebrows. “Clue two, I’ve seen you do that before — more than once— and you always have this weird… sort of duck-walk to take your trousers off.”

Harry groans, his entire face the color of her hair. “Please, please, don’t stop on account of me.” He somehow manages a sarcastic drawl as he removes his glasses and places them on the bedside table. “Let’s continue to detail all the times I’ve finished too quickly.”

“Not just too quickly,” she corrects, kissing him on the nose. “I’m only talking about coming in your trousers, which you’ve also managed to do several ti—”

Harry snorts. “And how many times have you done it, then?” His green eyes dance with mischief. “Also more than once. As memory serves, our time at Hogwarts got a lot more interesting once you discovered the combination of my thigh and snogging. You just don’t have the equipment to make things particularly messy when—”

“Clue three!” she loudly calls over him. He has the grace to laugh as she turns so they're spooning, her bum pressed against his crotch.

“I… said I loved you,” she finishes, interlacing their fingers. “And that’s always… you know.”

Harry shudders; there’s a sudden rise of fabric against her bum. “Ok, speaking of embarrassing,” he admits, adjusting himself. “You’re actually going to have to erm. Stop saying that? For now? Because…”

“Trust me, Auror Potter,” she murmurs, dropping her voice to her best impression of Kingsley. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Unfair,” he complains, toying with a piece of her hair. “As you can see, I’m a bit of a mess. It still turns me on when you say you love me.”

“Yeah, well, it still turns me on when you breathe,” she mutters, her eyes growing heavy. “Reckon we can just be messes together.”

Harry chuckles before burying his face into her hair. “I’ll always be your mess. Jenny.”

#harry x ginny #harry and ginny #harry potter fanfic #au fanfiction #arcadia chapter 4

[d0llpie]

Hi love✨ Can I request #16 from your prompt list with Atsumu? I’d like angst with a bittersweet ending, like they started dating because they were very different and found that interesting but as the time passed and the lockdown started, they realized that the differences were a lot and became tired of the constant arguments and not been able to see each other so they broke up but still in love:(

sorry if it’s very long and specific🥺 last week I broke up with my s/o and it was like this, our compatibility isn’t good and even if we love each other, we are not meant to be

Atsumu x reader, angst

A/N: Hi lovely, i’m sorry you’re going through this right now, i hope this is okay <3

Prompt: “i know i’m not what you signed up for”

wc: 1.4k

“Y/N, it’s one game pleasee, you never come, you’ve already met Suna and Osamu you don’t even have to talk to the team afterwards.” Your best friend, who also happened to be Suna’s girlfriend pleaded at you. You playfully shoved her back “Fine, but if you’re ditching me for Suna after the game you have to buy my drinks,”  “Ugh, yes! Rin she’ll come!” Suna came out from behind the gym where you both were talking “Oh, hey Suna” he nodded at you, draping his arm over your best friend’s shoulders “Tsumu saw you guys talking, he thinks you’re cute” you rolled your eyes at that. You knew of Atsumu and his reputation thanks to his fangirls, who usually end up in tears after encounters with him on bad days. “Well that’s nice.” You said sarcastically, “Oh, just remember not to cheer while he serves tomorrow night okay?” “Bsf/n, why would i cheer for him?” she scoffed “To show support? Anyway Rin and I will pick you up tomorrow, we’re going to go eat now mkay?” You nodded “See ya later” you waved and Suna nodded in acknowledgment. 

~

“Wow are the games usually this packed?” you squeezed past a group of girls in the aisles, settling into a seat next to bsf/n. “Kinda? It’s extra packed with both Atsumu and Oikawa’s fangirls, just ignore them- Oh there’s Suna!” You watched her wave excitedly at her boyfriend as he emerged with his team, the twins on either side of him. “Did he just wink at you?” bsf/n gestured over to Atsumu “Don’t know, he’s jumping up and down now at Osamu, geez he’s loud, Osamu is hotter anyway..” “They’re identical twins y/n, you can find him attractive.” She teased and you focused on the whistle blowing to ignore her. 

After the match ended, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed, Tsumu was a tad erratic but he was talented nonetheless, his setter rivalry against Oikawa was definitely entertaining. “Hey, um, Atsumu? You were really great out there! You too Suna, all of you guys.” the team thanked you while Atsumu smirked at you, seeming amused. “Didn’t hear ya cheering out there for me doll” you scoffed at his cocky behaviour but felt your cheeks heating up at his casual pet name. “So, can i get yer number” you don’t know what about Atsumu was so magnetic but you felt yourself taking your phone from your pocket before you even responded. “Mhm, here” you smiled up at him and his cocky demeanour softened for a moment before he poked your forehead to distract you. “Wow real mature Tsumu” “Hmm already onto nicknames now y/n” he cocked a brow “Says you, doll~” he laughed at you, oblivious to the knowing stare of his twin.

~

After that night you started attending all the games, even attending practice some days just to talk to Atsumu about a new show or school work, him not having much to add too on the latter topic. A few weeks passed and you both started dating, most of your dates consisting of playful bickering in his house over what snacks to eat, what movie to watch and ended with Osamu yelling at you both to shut up. Atsumu brought out the fun side of you and you were able to ground him when he was out of hand.

“Tsums?” you looked up at him from his chest, tracing small patterns on his stomach. He hummed, looking down at you and pausing the movie when he saw your serious expression “what’s up doll?” you sighed, you felt stupid for being insecure but you couldn’t help it. You knew you weren’t his usual type, hell you guys rarely agreed on anything, but you knew he loved you, you both could agree on that much. Still, you couldn’t help but wander, where you really what he wanted? “I was just thinking, what do you like about me?” his fingers that were running through your hair stopped “get out of that pretty little head of yours, i don’t want anybody else, i don’t care about what anybody else is like you’re what i want and who i love okay?” “okay” you smiled against his chest as he pecked ur head “why? you haven’t found someone prettier than me have you?” “mm just Samu” he feigned a hurt expression, pouting like a child.

~~

Since then your relationship had changed over the years, the love you both shared was still just as strong and snarky as when you first met however snarky quickly turned to subtle digs, unsaid questions led to petty arguments where you both exploded. It was hard but he was always there afterwards, arms open to tell you how much he loved you and you the same.

Once quarantine started you weren’t worried, atsumu had less practice and there was more time for you both to talk on the phone. Conversations seemed forced, trying to find topics for both of you to talk about that extended beyond small talk. Communicating these problems was even harder, you didn’t know what to say or where to start. You only found the separation harder as time went on. You valued communication but even you found it hard to bring up issues when you were with Atsumu. You always had to anyway since Tsumu had a habit of bottling it up until you brought something up, leading to a fight. 

You’d both been arguing for so long your throat felt raw, you don’t even remember what started it this time but things piled on and you just kept arguing. “Well fuck sake y/n! At least take some fucking responsibility, not everything is my fucking fault and i’m sick of taking the blame so you can keep your pride!” you scoffed “MY pride? pull your head out of your ass Tsumu, maybe you take the blame a lot because, i don’t know, you’re at fault? I’m the one who tried to talk about this instead of just yelling about the past !” you continued arguing until you felt tired. You couldn’t be bothered anymore, you knew deep down you couldn’t be bothered with the constant fights, disagreements that led to personal digs, you stared at him through the screen, wondering how it ended up like this. “Tsumu i’m tired.” your change in tone had him pausing mid sentence, he took notice of your exhausted expression and assumed the worst. “y/n...you know i don’t mean what i say, you aren’t tired of me right?” it was strange hearing how vulnerable he sounded, you wanted nothing more to hold him but you couldn’t continue on like this and you both knew that. “Tsums, i think we-” “Y/n i love you. I know i’m not what you signed up for, i know we aren’t perfect but i love you.” tears were rolling down your cheeks, you didn’t want to do this, but you both needed this “Tsums i love you. I love you too, so so much, you’re my person but this isn’t good for us, maybe its the separation but we need some time apart, to figure out ourselves alone before we can be together. I know deep down you feel the same.” You continued to cry while Atsumu watched, heartbroken at how broken you looked. “Y/N, I’m sorry for all the fights, I never meant to escalate things, I was just more agitated, i couldn’t take it out in practice and i am not using that as an excuse i swear. I-I knew i was getting carried away in the heat of the moment but i love you okay? You know that.” you sniffled, wiping underneath your eyes “I love you too, and i’m sorry too okay? I’m not innocent here either.” you chuckled lightly, “take care of yourself Atsumu.” you offered him a teary smile, hearing a small “Goodbye y/n..” before you closed the lid to your computer, breathing in shakily. 

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu angst #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #anon requests #atsumu comfort