#whoever says cats don’t love is a liar
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DAY NINE: Hate Sex w/ Ex!Fratboy!Bucky Barnes (ft. sorority sister!reader
a/n: I cannot begin to tell yoy how fucking aware I am that this is late and I'm almost falling behind but ohmygoodness I've been literally exhausted for the past two days. I'm lowkey pissed about it because I was super excited to write for this day and actually writing for it felt like I was dragging my feet behind me.
masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3
TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @zippertwat @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl
Fuck James Buchanan Barnes.
He’s a piece of shit, an asshole, a womanizer, a player, a liar and a dirty fucking cheat, but goddamn it, why do you always find yourself here?
You hated him – no – you do hate him!
Even people that hate their exes like the fact that they catch their eye, that they can’t find it within themselves to look away from them, that in some way, some capacity, they will always want them, that they will always be theirs regardless of whoever they get with in the future.
Bucky knew you’d come to the party at his frat, and you knew that you would go with every intention of fucking with him. To everyone else, you were just bitter exes - that needed to fuck out whatever was going on between the two of you - so when you showed up in a dress that fell just below your ass, your friends figured you were just trying to get laid; but no one knew that this was his favorite color on you, let alone his favorite dress.
You just so happened to pick it out, that’s all! Couldn’t a girl want to pamper herself nowadays?
You fake laughed at whatever the dude that had fallen right into your trap said, a manicured hand lifting up to slap him on his arm gently, making extra sure to graze the naked skin of his arm that was exposed by his muscle tee with your acrylics. You fluttered your eyelashes at him innocently, a faux sweet smile on your face.
Subconsciously, you knew that you wanted Bucky to take you home, or to his room, or to wherever the fuck he wanted too – but you’d never admit that to yourself. You couldn’t. He couldn’t win this game of cat and mouse, not without a fight, and you just so happened to love playing dirty.
You could feel Bucky’s stare burning into your back. Your bodycon dress was completely strapless, leaving little to nothing to the imagination as your breasts threatened to spill out over the top. You weren’t a sorority slut by any means, one of your sister’s had that covered, but still, you were going to go home with somebody tonight.
Even if he was an idiot.
“That’s so funny, Aaron.” Aaron laughed nervously, cheeks blooming a deep red as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s uh- actually Eric.” Right. “Sorry.” You giggled, raising the neck of your beer as if it was some sort of explanation for the fact that you don’t really give a shit about what his name is and more about what’s in his pants.
Before you could speak, your eyes raised up to meet Bucky’s, who was standing across the pull, two ladies vying for his attention as he puffed on what looked like a blunt. It looked like he was in the same boat that you were; that he didn’t care about what they were saying, only you.
Biting your lip, you turned your gaze back to Aaron – Eric.
You knew you’d have to up the ante in order to get him to move, because right now you know he thinks that you’re all bark no bite. You’ll show him.
“You know…” You made a finger walking motion up his arm, the tips of your nails now slightly digging into his skin. “How about we get out of here?” You fluttered your eyelashes up at him. “It’s too crowded… and loud.” Your hand finally rested on his upper bicep, giving it a soft squeeze. The poor man’s jaw was slightly dropped, as if he was a fish out of water.
“Yeah, yeah, I-” He attempted to say, but when you raised your gaze again, Bucky was gone, and you had forced yourself to bite back a wolfish smile because you knew he was on the move somewhere.
“What’s goin’ on over here?” Bucky’s voice sounded as he approached the both of you from behind. Eric looked as if he had seen a ghost, but the poor boy had no idea that he was just a pawn in your game.
“Oh- uh- nothin’ man, just talking.” You raised a brow at Eric’s shaky excuse. Internally, you rolled your eyes. What a pussy.
“Really?” Bucky asked in amusement, not even bothering to hide the face splitting smirk that contorted his face. “Yep.” You responded, popping the ‘p’ as you took the blunt from him. You wrapped your mouth around it, your gaze almost challenging him as you sucked, pulling the smoke into your lungs. It burned but it was worth it to see the tick in his jaw and the slight twitch in his eye at the sight of your pursed lips.
“I think that I um- I’m just gonna go.” Eric squeaked awkwardly. All lustful intention slipped away from him as he grasped his hand and shook it. From the poor man’s wince you can tell that Bucky put a little bit too much force in his shake.
When the random guy slipped away you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Real smooth.” You commented. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“I’m talking about you trying to act like you weren’t trying to fuck me right in front of him.” The way you said it was as if it was the most casual thing on earth. “I almost forgot how possessive you get when you know someone else wants me.” You tilted your chin up to finally face him, and you caught yourself from almost stumbling over your words at the primal look on his face.
You did it. You won this game fair - enough - and square.
“Too bad my pussy doesn’t belong to you anymore, isn’t it, James?”
“Shut the fuck up.” He growled, taking an intimidating step towards you. But you weren’t scared, if anything you were turned on.
“Don’t get mad at me because I’m right, even though anger does look good on you.”
You went to step away, but he was quick to snatch your wrist, “Were not done talkin’.” You made a noncommittal attempt to tug yourself free. “I am.”
The tension between the two of you sizzled like oil on a pan, beckoning, calling for someone to do something, anything, to appease the burning desire that was coiling in Bucky and yours’ guts.
“If you’re not done then I guess we should find somewhere quiet to talk then.”
He didn’t give you the chance to offer a rebuttal because he was already dragging you away from the prying eyes of party goers, his frat brothers and your sorority sisters. You already had an idea of where he was taking you, pushing the both of you through the sea of people that flooded the house, most of them drunk or high or a hammered off of a little bit of everything that was rotating throughout the home.
When he’d found his room, he was grateful that no one had decided to fuck in it, because that was what he was supposed to be doing.
He let your body be the thing that slammed the door shut with a loud bang!
He kissed you harshly, his left hand grasped your chin while the other hiked a full leg over his hip, grinding his erection onto your needy core.
“Fuck!” You gasped, your back arching off the wood as you broke the kiss. The friction of his jeans against your pulsing clit sent you staggering for balance, your inhibitions clouding your mind when you allowed your self-control to completely flee from within you.
“Bucky baby.” You whined. The man practically preened at the sound of his old nickname, his humping turning harder and calculated. He clearly had an end goal in mind.
“What were you sayin’ about this pussy not bein’ mine no more?” He quipped. “I still mean it.” You gasped. He growled, but nonetheless, that didn’t deter him from shoving his face in the corner of your neck and biting down on the skin. Hard.
You yelped at the pain, but it shot down straight to your stimulated core. The bite only drew you closer to your embarrassingly fast approaching orgasm. It had been so long since you’d been touched by him, and God, you missed his hands, his voice, his touch, his smell, his cock.
“‘M close, Buck, ‘m so close.” You murmured, waving your fingers through his brunette hair and tugging on the strands. You felt a burning bitterness well-up in your gut when the tips of your fingers brushed against the hard plastic of the silver crown on top of his head. You sneakily took it off before throwing it somewhere in his room.
“No need to be jealous, honey.” He teased with a smirk on his face. “Shut— shut up!” Your rebuttal only came out as a whine. You could feel the cloth of your laced thong stick to your wet labia with every grind on his jeans – which also now sported a dark spot on his pants.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You swore as you came. “There you go. That’s it, good girl.” Small whimpers slipped out of you as he worked you into overstimulation.
“God,” He groaned. “I’ve gotta fuck you.”
Guiding his face up to yours, you brushed your lips together, holding your intense eye contact with one another. “Then fuck me, Buck. I think you have a point to prove.” He leaned forward just a bit to nip at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth.
“Fuckin’ naughty.” Bucky grunted, forcing your leg down from his hip for a moment to snatch your panties down your legs. Your hands shot out to his belt buckle, slipping the leather out of it and unbuttoning his jeans. It was your turn to shove his pants down and grab his hard on, his hot cock pulsing in your hand.
The air in the back of his throat caught at the feeling of your stroking, “God– turn around.” You did as he said and felt his large, calloused hands pushing up your dress.
“Gonna make sure everyone at this fuckin’ party knows you’re mine.” He says lowly, pulling down his underwear to his mid-thigh and prodding his tip at your entrance. “Even if you fuckin’ hate me.” With that, he entered you, splitting you in half on his cock.
You cried out at the feeling, false nails scratching at the surface of his door in an attempt to keep yourself steady. “Feels so good, Buck. So, so, good.” You mewled, your hips pushing out on their own accord to try and take your own pleasure. “Always so fuckin’ greedy.” He chided. His hands grabbed at the fat of your ass, pulling out of you only to slam back in, sending you up the wall.
Your bodies moved in a familiar symphony that had been sung numerous times before, as they hadn’t forgotten one another, they were just simply waiting for the both of you to press play.
His dick repeatedly prodded at your g-spot, the friction sending you into overdrive as you moaned, and cried and begged. “God, I think ‘m gonna cum, Buck!” You exclaimed, walls repeatedly clenching down on him. “That’s right, doll. ‘Fuckin squeeze me.” He bellowed, his own thrusts growing sloppy as he neared his end.
Your noises raised in pitch before your arms gave out and you collapsed forward, instead opting to cross your arms and rest your head on your forearms.
“Gonna cum in this sweet pussy, sweetheart.” He said through gritted teeth, his thrusting growing sloppy and uncoordinated.
“Do it, fuck, I-” Your words died out, your body wracking with shivers as your second orgasm of the night overtook you.
It wasn’t long before you felt his seed warm your insides, painting your womb white as your eyesight went white, and your pussy sucked him up for all he’s worth.
Your chests heaved.
“I still hate you.” You huffed.
“I wouldn’t have expected anything less.” He said through a smile.
#♡ ― nsfmeau !#kinktober#kinktober 2023#kinktober day nine#plus size reader#x plus size reader#plus size!reader#signed meau#x chubby reader#chubby reader#bucky fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes kinktober#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x plus size reader#bucky barnes smut#fanfiction#smut
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true love you will find in the end
physical
-short brown hair
-hazel eyes
-160 cm - 5’3
-i have anxiety, i overthink a lot at times, i have depression
-i am shy but once i get more comfortable with someone i open up more but still am shy a bit
things i enjoy, hobbies and personality
-i love drawing
-i can play acoustic guitar, i’m learning how to play electric guitar, i can play piano and flute
-i love crystals
-i love to read
-i love the stars
-my love language is physical touch and words of affirmation
-i love fluffy blankets and really anything soft
-i love lighting candles
-i love wearing comfy clothes and sweatshirts/jumpers
-i like to paint
-i love crime documentaries
-i love to do poetry, write songs, sing, writing in general etc.
- loves 50s-90s music
-whenever i’m in public and i don’t want to talk/am too anxious to talk i do little signals to whoever i’m with so they know what i want to do or so they know i don’t want to talk
-also times where i’m just silent because i don’t feel like talking but not for any specific reason
If it’s okay can you do marauders era, golden trio era, and marvel?? if it’s too much you can do marauders and golden trio era :)))-🐇
1st of May
True love will find you in the end
Tell me anything about yourself and I will write you who I ship you with.
I ship you with James Potter!
Bubbly beefy bf with little anxious gf.
It just makes sense.
James tucking you in under the heavy blanket and putting on one of those videos.
Hugs over your shoulders as he places a kiss onto your hair.
“Oi, don’t get shy on me, shortcake.” he says and cups your cheeks as you try to shy away.
Drawing together on a first day. Swiping it every 5 minutes. Yk, the tiktok trend. And he loves every part of it and how creative you are.
You taught him how to play guitars because he wants to play songs for you. But you don’t need to know about it, yet.
Buying magic shiny rocks for you. Lets you do his skincare and put magic shiny rock onto his hair. It’s like a therapy for his ADHD brain. He might fall asleep and snore a bit, but only because he feels really safe.
He hates to admit it but he feels easier when you do this ‘ritual’ to him. After a few hard days and your ‘ritual’ always heal him.
“You like that, don’t you?” || “Me? Never! I just know you enjoy it so I let you do that.” he’s a bad liar.
James has had lots of fluffy socks. We all know what happened to them.
James hiding his face into your tummy, chest or neck when true crimes gets too scary. He’s a babygirl.
James reading your favourite book so he could talk to you more. (and I know you bought The love hypothesis and I know that James would brag about how Adam is kind dickhead but overall the sweetest person ever)
James always hiding you behind his back, still holding your hand as he talks for you.
Your cat pawing at him.
Hermione Granger
She’s very smart and understands your anxiety. And if there’s something she doesn’t know, she will learn it.
Words of affirmation from her side.
Buys you painting things from muggle world.
Cuddles you a lot. Little kisses all over your face.
Her and your cat getting well together and always cuddling with you both.
Wrapping you in fluffy blankets as she lights up candles for you.
Braiding and playing with your hair as you just sit in silence. It’s comfy and welcoming.
Definitely listing to jazz.
Both little bookworms <3
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liveblog: miraculous ladybug s101-110
ep101
the theme song is catchy but why are they pronouncing "miraculous" so weird? they changed the "a" sound and i have no idea why when the original pronunciation would fit just fine
marionette is so cute!
adults are annoying (speaking as one myself) but damn do they keep shit running
i like that we're just thrown into this setting
that yes paris has two superheroes and everyone knows them
i think this is a good first episode! the character introductions were well done and we got the premise of the show and a couple subplots as well - honestly well done!
ep102
does marionette go to a fashion (high) school?
"what would paris be without pigeons?" honestly a valid question
"you'll need to get off the bus now" wow how considerate is that bus driver
god the last time i saw that one dance move from psy was when that song was popular
i don't find camembert that stinky? maybe i'm not getting "unpasteurized camembert aged for two years" but the stuff i buy at the supermarket really isn't bad
i love marionette blushing - she's so cute!!
haha this ending cap is funny
ep103
"aurore boreal" wow we did not try for that name at all
i honestly could not babysit
"what's the big deal? you only lost by half a million votes"
so how exactly oes hawkmoth know when someone has dark feelings - that can turn them into a bad guy?
marionette is hysterical
"give me the smile when mama brings in the spaghetti"
why would you say, in front of the child, that you can't resist their doll eyes
marionette's best friend is the MVP
i love adrien's little cat ears when he transforms >.<
"i'm fe-line more generous than usual today..."
whoever came up with that deserves an award
"but i look so good in a swimsuit" "the catsuit will do" -winks-
ep104
marionette's parents have very different designs and i like it!
"two ladybugs?! i'm in heaven!"
ep105
"the only way you can have a normal conversation with him is if you're blindfolded"
okay marionette has a fucking chart of ADRIAN'S schedule byeee
um that's actually a nice statue though
chat noir being jealous is actually cute
i actually completely disagree with marionette going to adrien's fencing practice to mess with his phone - talk about a hug invasion of privacy
"sorry, but liars are losers"
ep106
oh shit ancient egypt love it
"pharaons" now i know how the french say "pharaohs"
"there's nothing wrong with living out a fantasy - especially when i can make it a reality"
ladybug existed in ancient egypt??
ep108
marinette’s paired with chloe and marinette for a group project haha
in reality, ladybug being on that blow dryer would not work out because that would be hot as shit
okay i know that nathan is “evil” but i’m sorry he’s a cutie
it’s actually really sad that the only way sabrina knows how to “make friends” is to do their homework
ohmgod i would fall for chat noir’s charms in a heartbeat haha
wow marinette being cmopared to chloe. it’s funny how people perceive things
my kitty kat was next to me and then she left :(
so how does hawkmoth see through his butterflies?
i am LIVING for the intractions between ladybug|marinette and chat noir|adrien
ep109
what’s funny is that you know that getting fired over dumb shit is something that happens all the time
“justice doesn’t need an invitation”
the most shocking thing so far is seeing the mayor drive his own car
this flying car sequence is actually fun
“fabulous... so wretchedly fabulous!”
ep110
alya is the MVP
adrien’s in love with ladybug <3
kim’s an anti-cupid! i like this idea!
it’s funny seeing chat noir run from ladybug kissing him when that’s what he actually wants
w were so close to a spiderman kiss
they kissed!!!!! >.<
adrien got marinette’s card and thinks it’s from ladybug!
this is cute haha
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Hey love,
Can you do something with roommate! Bucky surprising you on your birthday and making it special? 🥺💞
hi sky!! this is SO PRECIOUS!! 🥺 I combined this lovely idea with the request for @mostly-marvel-musings for a birthday with bucky so here it is! (also I couldn't wait for headcanon wednesday; I got too excited!) 💖
𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬
you weren’t expecting much for your birthday this year. all of your family is too far away and none of your friends were available to hang out. at this rate, you were planning on just cuddling up on the couch with a pizza and your favorite bottle of wine.
however, your roommate bucky believed you deserved all of the hype, so he got to work on planning a special celebration for the two of you.
you groggily shuffle to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face.
you open the bedroom door, surprised by the smells wafting your way. bucky's making breakfast?
you reach the kitchen and finally remember what today is: your birthday.
party decorations are haphazardly set up; he tried his best, but he does not have an eye for interior design
the banner is lopsided, the streamers look a little silly, the balloons are chaotically placed around
the table is set neatly with a matching set of plates, cups, napkins, and cutlery that match your apartment’s aesthetic
his lack of taste is why your shared apartment is covered with succulents, cacti, and your paintings.
it seems that bucky had a secret plan in the works. you wonder how he hid all of this from you; this boy tells you everything.
he tried his best and it warms your heart. this definitely isn’t helping with your secret feelings you’ve been harboring for him since you met.
you turn to the kitchen table to see a wonderful spread of breakfast potatoes, scrambled eggs, delicately placed slices of honeydew and cantaloupe, and pancakes with blueberry smiley faces baked in the middle.
bucky is frantically working in the kitchen wearing only boxers and an apron that says “kiss da cook”
it looks like he’s trying to bake you a cake and is failing miserably; he’s made a mess of his face, his apron, and the kitchen
dishes lay everywhere and somehow flour is on the cabinets? you don’t know how he managed that. bucky’s cat, alpine, is enjoying watching bucky’s crazed state from the top of the refrigerator
“whatcha doin’ there, buckaroo?” you ask as you approach him.
“good mornin’ dove! i’m sorry about the mess, I thought i’d be done before you woke up and clearly I was wrong. whoever said that baking isn’t rocket science is a fucking liar because how the hell did I mess up such a simple recipe?! it has like eight steps—”
“i’m sure it’s going to be wonderful, bucky. I can’t believe you did all of this for me?”
“of course I did, my best girl deserves the world,” he answers sheepishly, running his hand through his messy hair.
his pet names make you fall harder each time he says one. being in love with your handsome roommate is getting exhausting.
“come and eat! I can finish this cake after we eat,” he insists as he pulls a chair out for you. he serves you a plate of food and pours you a cup of coffee before you can insist otherwise.
your coffee is made just the way you like it. your heart flutters—you’ve never told him how you take it, so he must’ve paid attention when you made it in front of him
you take a bite of the pancakes and stifle a moan, “holy shit bucky, this is so good.”
after you eat three plates of food (you couldn’t resist his smile when he offered you more), he runs to grab your present
the wrapping is a bit chaotic, but it gets the job done
he made a handcrafted card out of your craft supplies you leave all around the compartment
he knows how much you love succulents and cacti so he tried to paint them in watercolor
they look more like green blobs but its still the prettiest artwork you’ve ever seen because it’s from the boy you love with all your heart
the message inside makes your heart race
my dove, happy birthday! I hope this is the best one yet. I know you wanted to do more this year, but when we’re done with today, you won’t be missing anyone. I’m so glad that we met and I love living with you. you’re my best friend and I couldn’t imagine my life without you. you’re the best! -your buckaroo
a tear trickles down your cheek as you thank him
he looks at you with eager eyes as you unwrap his gift
it’s a scrapbook filled to the brim with pictures of the two of you, ticket stubs, and mementos from your adventures together
“I knew that these would be important to hold onto,” he murmurs, running a nervous hand behind his head and through his hair.
“bucky, this is so wonderful and special. thank you,” you whisper.
“I wanted it to be special because you’re special,” he says. he takes a deep breath before continuing, “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you, dove. you mean the world to me, as you know from what I just gave you, and I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t tell you how I feel. I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment we met and it gets harder to hide it everyday.”
you just stare at him silently, completely shocked.
after an agonizing minute passes, you finally mutter, “you’ve liked me this whole time?”
“uh, yeah, I have.”
you scoff. he looks hurt.
“no, wait! i’m not laughing at you. bucky, i’ve felt the same way this whole time.”
“you have?!”
“yes!!”
“we’re idiots.”
“yeah we are, but you’re my idiot, buckaroo.”
he finally kisses you, so sweetly and passionately. it’s everything you ever dreamed of and the best gift you could’ve asked for.
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes headcanon#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#thefanbasewhore#mostly-marvel-musings#mickey henry's headcanons
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A Shakespearean Soliloquy in Two Parts
Relationship: Asexua!Spemcer Reid x Asexual!Male!Reader
Summary: “Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” William Shakespeare, Julius Ceaser
Warnings: Scool shooting, asexual Spencer Reid and reader, implied autism.
Word Count: 7520 words
A/N: To be frank, I meant to post this at like, three pm. Also Asexual Spencer Reid owns my ass and I will only write him as such. Please enjoy. Edited by the outstanding, amazing, show stopping @mystic-writes . I love you please forgive me for forgetting.
"Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream" –A Midsummer Night's Dream
"Hey, Shelly," you say with a smile at the small book store you are currently checking out in. "Good to see you again."
"You as well! Only one book this week?" Shelly asks and you nod.
"Yeah. I have too much work to do, so I can't focus on more than one book," you say.
She scans your book and you pay quickly. She hands you the book back and says with a smile, "Enjoy your book!"
You nod and turn around quickly, taking a step, before colliding with someone. The books in their hands go crashing to the floor, and you do as well, crying out as you land suddenly on your tailbone, and stars flash before your eyes.
"I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have been that close and I wasn't paying attention, and I should have been looking where I was going and-" you hold up a hand to silence the man who was speaking a mile a minute in front of you.
"Really, it's okay. It was my fault," you say, wincing as you try and get up.
The man holds out a hand out and you take it. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
He takes his hand back almost immediately once you're standing and you smile. "No, not really. Just bruised my tailbone," you say and the man sighs.
You lean down and pick up a couple of the books he was carrying, and when you go to the last book, his fingers brush yours. You look up and see your faces are inches from one another, and you feel your face heating up. You see him blush as well and you both pull your hands away. You stand up so he can grab the last book and you shove the books you're holding into his arms.
"Sorry again!" you say, not looking at him, and you leave because you can’t embarrass yourself any more.
It isn't until you're in your car that you realize you gave him your book as well.
"Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love." –Hamlet
You walk into the Alley Cat Café, a new café that just opened a block from your flat that also offered an area where you could hang out with adoptable cats. You never went in there because you would just adopt all of them and you didn't have the time for that right now.
You walk into the café and the little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival. You walk up to the counter and order your regular, the Calico Chai, and pay before finding a seat near the back close to the window where you could watch the cats. Your order is called, and as you get up, you look over to a table, and see a very familiar man reading a book at a remarkable speed.
You distractedly grab your tea and go back to your table, gathering up your things before plopping yourself next to the man.
"Hello again!" you exclaim and he jumps, looking up from his reading to glare at whoever interrupted him.
When he locks eyes with you, however, his eyes widen. "Oh! Hello!" he exclaims and a small smile forms on his lips.
"I think I may have given you my book on Tuesday," you say sheepishly, and his eyes widen even more and his mouth drops open adorably.
He turns and fishes around in his bag, before turning back to you and holding out a book in both hands. "I've been carrying it around with me hoping to give it back to you," he says, blushing, and you grin, taking the book from his hands, your fingers brushing his.
"Well, thank you," you say, grabbing the large book.
"So, the complete works of Shakespeare, huh?" the man asks and you nod.
"Yeah. I've never actually owned a copy before," you say. "I've only taken it out from the library or borrowed it from friends. I actually wanted to major in Shakespearean studies in college before ultimately deciding to go another way." The man nods, and silence falls over you for a moment before you say, "You know, I never got your name."
"Oh! Doctor Spencer Reid," he says with a wave.
You wave back and say, "Doctor [Y/N] [L/N]."
"What's your doctorate in?" he asks, excited.
You reply, "Biological Anthropology. I teach it at Georgetown."
"That's where I got my PHD in Chemistry," Spencer says and you grin.
"Really? When was that?" you ask.
"Thirteen years, two months, six days, and seventeen hours ago," he says and you blink owlishly.
You think for a moment before saying, "You must have been really young when you got that."
He nods. "I was seventeen. It was my second PHD. I have three. One in mathematics, one in chemistry, and one in engineering. I also have five BAs."
You stare at him for a moment, not saying anything, before you whisper, "That's really impressive." You feel your cheeks heat up. "I didn't get my PHD until I was nearly 25."
"I have an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words a minute," he says and you smile.
"You're one of a kind, Spencer Reid," you say, holding your book to your chest. "That must have been a very lonely childhood though," you remark, and he looks away from you. He nods but doesn't say anything. "What do you do now?"
"I'm a profiler with the FBI in their behavioral analysis unit," he explains and you smile.
"Maybe I'll have you come in and lecture to one of my classes some time," you say and he smiles. "Though Biological Anthropology isn't very exciting to anyone but me…" you look away and scratch the back of your neck, but Spencer assuages your fears.
"Actually, I find it quite interesting. I read an article the other day about how work stress is actually de-evolving humans, causing their bones to actually lose density, causing them more physical pain and inability to do physical tasks, as well as loss of sleep, appetite, and more," he says, and you grin.
"But, the study was only on French individuals, and it could have different results based on where the study is done. Like, in Japan for example, there may be the same amount of stress but they handle it better because in their culture, work is just a part of life and you have to deal with stress. Or in America, where we have different ways of dealing with stress that may cloud the findings," you add, and he nods.
"That is true, though you'd have to factor that into the initial hypothesis and-"
Spencer is cut off by his phone ringing. He picks it up and the phone call ends quickly.
"I'm so sorry to have to do this, but I have to go to work. We have a case," he says and you nod in understanding.
"Of course. It was nice talking to you Spencer. I hope we can talk again some time!" you exclaim.
A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I do too, [Y/N]."
You stare at each other for a couple moments before he turns around and leaves the café. You sip your now cold tea and realize you didn't get Spencer's number.
“Our doubts are traitors,
and make us lose the good we oft might win,
by fearing to attempt." –Measure for Measure
You sit at the bar and nurse your glass of water as the music and lights cause a headache to split at your temples. You groan and massage your head, but it doesn't do anything to relieve the pain. You take another sip of your water, and look up to see a familiar face looking down at you.
"Co-workers bring you here too?" Spencer asks and you smile and nod.
"Yeah. It's Fiona's birthday today and she wanted to go to a club," you say, and Spencer sits down next to you. "I got dragged along. And apparently I got a splitting headache too."
"Do you want any help with that?" Spencer asks and you look at him, questioningly. "Turn around."
You do as he asks, slowly, and you feel his fingers lightly resting on your neck. You wince as he presses into your spine right where your head and neck meet, but after thirty seconds he releases, and your headache dissipates. You grin and turn around.
"How did you know to do that?" you ask.
He shrugs. "I had chronic migraines when I was younger, and I read a book on pressure points once," he explains and you nod in understanding.
"Right. You're a genius," you say with a forced smile and he frowns. You sigh. "You just…" you put a hand on his cheek, and he stiffens for a moment before relaxing into your touch. "You make me feel inferior. Like I'm just never going to do as well as you."
Spencer grabs your hand lightly and squeezes it, putting it away from your face as he looks into your eyes. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You're a doctor working at one of the best schools in the country," he says and you smile. He returns it. "And, don't compare yourself to me. I can read 20,000 words a minute. I'm a freak. You're more normal than I am."
"Spencer Reid, don't you ever say that again!" you exclaim, taking his other hand in your own. "You are not a freak!" He goes to protest but you take one of your hands from his grip and put it over his lips. "Nope. No arguing. What I say is final."
You pull your hand away and you see he's smiling. "Yes, Doctor," he says, his words dripping with sarcasm.
You grin, before gasping. He looks alarmed as you say, "Oh! I forgot!" he places his hands on your arms. "You didn't give me your number in the café!"
He sighs in what looks to be relief, before reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet. "You want to see a magic trick?"
You nod and he grins an adorable smile that has you grinning as well. He holds up a business card, probably his business card, and moves his hands in front of his face, and when they cross back over, the card is gone.
"Oh come on! It's behind your hand! I know this trick," you say, and he raises an eyebrow.
He opens up his fingers and turns his hand around, showing it's nowhere to be seen. Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops slightly in awe.
"Hey, I think you have something in your hair… right there…" he says, pointing to your left ear, and you reach up before he can touch you.
You feel something, and when you pull it out in front of you, you see it's Spencer's business card.
You laugh and flip the card over, checking to see if it's real or not. But it very much is.
"Wow Spencer, that's amazing!" you exclaim and his cheeks flare red. You take out your phone and put his number in, calling it. He looks up at you and you place your phone to your ear. He picks up and you say with a smile, "There. Now you have my number too."
"This sounds very strange, can I hang up now?" Spencer says out loud, and it's repeated in your ear only moments after. You laugh and nod, and the two of you hang up your phones.
Almost immediately, his phone starts ringing again, and you put up your hands in innocence.
"JJ," he says into the receiver, pausing for a moment, before saying quickly, "I'll be right there." He hangs up his phone and places it in his pocket, before saying quickly. "Sorry, that was work. I really have to go."
You smile and nod. "You have a job to do. Go save some lives." He smiles and turns to leave, but you call out, "Spencer!" he turns around and you stand up, lean forward, and place a kiss on his cheek. "For good luck."
He grins and walks out of the club. You watch as a couple more people file out, and sit back in your seat and finish your water.
"Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change." –Romeo and Juliet
You're flipping through papers when you hear someone call out to you.
"[Y/N]!" they shout and looking up you see Spencer Reid walking down the hallway towards you, a messenger bag slung around his shoulder. He was wearing something similar to what he was wearing in the club only two nights ago.
"Case ended early?" you ask and he nods.
"Yeah. Child abduction. We had less than forty eight hours to get the child back alive since the family didn't report her missing until twenty four hours had passed," he says.
"And did you? Get the child back alive, I mean," you ask and he nods. You grin.
"Oh, good. So! What are you doing here? You didn't come just to see me, did you?"
Spencer blushes and you place a hand on his arm. "No, Doctor Priya Chopra wanted my help on an article she's going to write about fungal growth on skin and the potential benefits it could have, as well as any side effects it may cause," he says and you nod.
"Well, I can show you to her office! She's new so it wouldn't have updated on any maps yet," you say and Spencer nods.
He stops and you halt in front of him, turning as he says, "Oh! Do you want me to carry any of your papers?"
You smile and shake your head. "No, it's okay. I'll just have to walk back anyways. My office is in the other direction."
"Oh, I don't want you to have to go out of your way. I can probably find it on my own…" Spencer trails off, looking helplessly at the myriad of plain beige hallways.
You shake your head and bump your shoulder with his. "Really. It's not a big deal. I want to do this," you say with a smile.
He smiles back and you lead him down a couple hallways, until you stop at a door with a nameplate that reads, 'Dr. Priya Chopra, PHD'.
"Well, this is your stop," you say, almost sad with a slight slump to your shoulders. "With that eidetic memory of yours, I don't think you need me to show you around anymore."
Spencer places a hand on the small of your back and points at the paperwork in your arms. "You look like you could use a little help. How about I come by after my talk with Doctor Chopra? I know where your office is," he says and you grin.
"I would love that, Spencer," you say, and watch him until he disappears behind Doctor Chopra's door.
"One may smile, and smile, and be a villain." –Hamlet
You hear a knock at your door and you look up from your work to see a familiar head pop out from behind the door. You grin and say, "Parker! It's good to see you again! Come in."
The young man with dark circles under his eyes slowly walks into your office, he wrings his hands out in front of him, and sits down in the chair across from yours. He slowly takes his backpack off and reaches in, pulling out a grey folder. The movements were slow and methodical, but you can see the young man's hands shaking slightly as he does so. Finally, he pulls out a stapled stack of papers and holds it out to you.
You take it carefully and frown, looking it over. It was one of his essays that you just gave back a couple days ago with a big red 'F' on the front.
"Why did you fail me?" Parker whispers and you sigh.
You lean back in your chair, folding your fingers on your stomach as you say, "Your essay is all over the place. There isn't a coherent theme or message in any of it. Also, you should really find someone to help edit your grammar at least. You have misspellings and incorrect comma usage all over the place, Parker." The man in question looks down away from you and you sigh again, this time louder and lean forward onto your desk. "How about this. Go to the writing center on campus, find someone to help plan out your essay, and if you do a good job, I'll bump up your score to at least a B, if not more if you do really well, okay?"
Parker looks up at you and gives you a toothy, forced smile, almost as if he doesn't smile much in his life, and says, "Thank you, Mr. [Y/N]."
You smile and nod, handing the paper back to him, and just as someone knocks at your door, he gets up.
Opening the door, Parker comes face to face with Doctor Gerard Holden, professor of microbiology at Georgetown, and the man looks shocked for a moment before steeling his expression and saying over Parker's shoulder, "Dr. [L/N], do you have a minute to talk?"
You smile and nod, before addressing Parker again. "Parker, I want to see that essay on my desk in a week and a half at the most. I hope to see some improvement."
Parker doesn't turn around but he nods and slides out of your office as quickly as he can without touching Dr. Holden. When Parker leaves, the older man walks into your office and closes the door behind him.
"That boy is very strange. I don't know how you put up with him. I've had to kick him out of class before for being disruptive and talking out of turn," he says and you sigh.
"He's a good kid and an even better student. I bet if you pushed him a little more, and actually called on him in class, he wouldn't interrupt so much," you say and the doctor in front of you is pale. "But, I hope you didn't come here to discuss our students."
The man shakes his head and goes into a lengthy question about having you guest lecture during one of his classes. You agree quickly and get the time and date and what you'll be covering before Dr. Holden opens the door to your office.
You see Parker standing on the other side of the door, and you know he heard everything you and Dr. Holden discussed about him.
"They do not love that do not show their love." –The two Gentlemen of Verona
It's a Saturday. You and Spencer are sitting in your apartment reading. Spencer's stack next to him is significantly smaller than yours, and whenever he finishes a book, he places it on your stack. Whenever you finish yours, you place your book on the ground and pick up whatever book Spencer just finished reading.
It's nice.
"If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die." –Twelfth Night
"Come on! I don't want us to miss this!" Spencer exclaims, grabbing your hand, and pulling you along as he runs through the small park.
"Wait! Spencer! I didn't know we were running! I would have brought my inhaler!" you exclaim as you try and keep pace.
Spencer doesn't stop though as he says, "It's not far, now come on!" The two of you continue to run through the trees, and eventually you come upon a clearing. There are a few couples there, but not actually as many as you would have expected. The thing that shocks you the most are the group of college age students all standing around with boxes in their hands.
"Spencer what-"
"Shh!"
You step closer to him, still holding his hand as the students all step up, and take the tops off the boxes. Light start flying out of the uncovered cardboard boxes and you realize that they're lightning bugs.
You gasp as a swarm flies towards you before dispersing into a hazy cloud of blinking yellow and green emanating from the lower abdomen. You reach out and the bugs fly away from your hand in streaks of light and you laugh. You turn, grinning at Spencer's face. He's looking right at you.
In the low glow, you can see Spencer's handsome features on display. His cheekbones are softer in the light, his auburn hair a deep brown and his hazel eyes reflecting spots of green back at you. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek. He looks beautiful.
"What is this?" you ask, breathless.
He smiles softly and you look down at his lips. They look inviting. "The biology majors at Howard under Professor Trudy study fireflies for a semester before releasing them here. Did you know that many fireflies do not produce light? Usually these species are diurnal, or day-flying, such as those in the genus Ellychnia. A few diurnal fireflies that inhabit primarily shadowy places, such as beneath tall plants or trees, are luminescent. One such genus is Lucidota. Non-bioluminescent fireflies use pheromones to signal mates. This is supported by the fact that some basal groups do not show bioluminescence and use chemical signaling, instead. Phosphaenus hemipterus has photic organs, yet is a diurnal firefly and displays large antennae and small eyes. These traits strongly suggest pheromones are used for sexual selection, while photic organs are used for warning signals."
You're silent for a minute before you say, "You said firefly."
Spencer frowns. "Huh?"
"You said firefly. People around here say 'Lightning bug,' which means you're not from around here. Where are you from?" you ask, and his frown subsides.
"Las Vegas," he says and you smile.
"You're a long way from home," you reply, looking around at the lightning bugs floating lazily around you, taking in their new environment. You look back at him and say, "I'm glad you're here Spencer. I'm glad I ran into you at the book shop. Literally," you say, laughing lightly.
"Me too," Spencer says with a small smile on his face.
You lean up and kiss him, quickly, before pulling back, not really giving him a chance to react. He stares at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, before leaning in and capturing his lips in yours again. You lean against him, turning so your front is pressed against his, he places his hands on your hips and you thread yours through his hair and rest them on the back of his neck.
When you pull away, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but you're so lost in Spencer's eyes you hardly notice.
"I am not bound to please thee with my answers." –The Merchant of Venice
You jump as someone hits their bowl a little too hard with their spoon, causing a loud crashing noise it seems like only you can hear. You can feel your heart rate picking up as another person accidentally drops a glass on the floor, shattering it. Your eyes dart around as people talk loudly over one another, shouting to be heard over the low din of the restaurant.
"[Y/N]!"
You look up at Spencer sharply, your eyes going wide.
"Are you okay?" he asks, reaching a hand out. You nod but don't take his hand, instead picking at your nails underneath the table. "I was just talking about the underlying effects of corsetry in the modern era…" Spencer continues as if nothing is wrong but another loud crash causes you to jump and lose focus from him again.
You hear Spencer sigh and you look up at him, your cheeks flaming up. "Sorry…" you mutter.
"What's wrong?" he asks plainly.
"I-" you begin to say, but flinch as someone laughs loudly at a table nearby you. "I don't really like restaurants. They're too… loud."
Spencer looks at you with that blank stare for a moment before sighing in what you hope is of relief. "Same here. A co-worker of mine suggested I take you out to dinner and when I told him I don't like restaurants either, he just said you would," Spencer explains.
You frown. "Who did he think I was? We read books in your apartment all the time!"
Spencer looks away sheepishly and pulls his hands into his lap. "I haven't used pronouns for you, so he assumed you were a woman."
You snort. "Wouldn't be the first time." Spencer frowns at you. "I've dated a lot of bisexual men with straight colleagues. The co-workers always assume I'm a woman."
Spencer nods, and the two of you are silent once again in the loud restaurant. You flinch once more as something crashes together, and Spencer sighs.
"Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asks, almost begging.
You nod enthusiastically. "Yes. Please. We can go back to mine?" Your eyes widen at that. "Not for sex!" you exclaim and a few people look over at you. You blush in embarrassment and say, quieter, "I-I just meant to read or watch a documentary or something. I didn't mean to imply."
Spencer smiles softly. "It's okay. I didn't even realize. I'm not sexually attracted to people."
Your eyes widen and you grin. "Me neither!"
Spencer grins with you and the two of you hastily pay and make a quick exit out of the busy restaurant.
"God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another." –Hamlet
"Mr. [L/N]?"
You jump and look up from your work and see Parker standing in your office. You put a hand over your heart and laugh. "Parker! You scared me!"
"Sorry…" he says, not making eye contact.
You chuckle as you say, "I should put a bell on you…" you see Parker flush a deep red but you ignore it. "So, what can I do you for?"
Silently, still red and blushing, Parker pulls out a stapled stack of papers from his backpack and holds it out to you. You take it and see it's the revised version of his essay you failed last week.
"I did want you asked…" he says quietly and you quickly look over the first page.
You smile up at him, grateful. "Thank you, Parker. I'll get it back to you by the end of the week-"
"NO!" he shouts and you jump at that.
"Parker, I have a lot of work to do and-"
But he cuts you off again, shouting, "No! Get it done now!"
You sigh, knowing he's not going to relent, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. "Okay. How about this. How many classes do you have left today?"
"Two…" Parker says, and you almost miss it seeing as he's so quiet.
You nod. "Okay. How about I work on it while you're in class and you can come back after."
Parker nods and without another word, leaves your office. You sigh loudly and lean your head into your hands.
"I must be cruel only to be kind;
Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind." –Hamlet
That night, you're sitting in Spencer's apartment, his head in your lap as you both read. You can't help but think of Parker, of hearing him yell for the first time since you met him. The boy was always so quiet, except in class where he was engaged and able to answer every question, even if his answers were a little all over the place.
"[Y/N]?" You hear Spencer ask and you look down at him, dazed.
"Huh?"
"You haven't even looked at your book for six minutes and twenty-seven seconds," Spencer says and you frown. You put your book face down next to you on the side table and rub your hands over your face. You feel hands at your wrists, and they tug slightly, pulling your hands away from your face. "What's going on?"
"Just a student of mine yelled at me today," you say. Spencer frowns and you lean down, kissing where his brow was furrowed. "It's okay. I've just never seen him even raise his voice above a whisper besides when we're in class. And even then he doesn't yell." You pause, and sit back up. Spencer sits up as well and lets go of your wrists, leaning into your side. "A lot of the students and faculty don't like him because he's disruptive in class, but I know he's a good student. He's driven and knows a lot. He just needs to be pushed in the right way." You sigh again and lean over to rest your head on Spencer's shoulder. "I told him that I would finish editing his essay by the end of the week but he yelled at me, telling me to finish it right then and there. I told him I would finish it by the end of the day. I knew he wasn't going to stop asking, so I made a compromise I thought he could live with."
You look up at Spencer's face and see him frowning. "How long has he been like this with you?"
You let out a huff of humorless laughter. "What, you jealous?" you ask, joking.
Some of the tension eases from Spencer's face but he doesn't stop frowning.
"No, I'm not jealous. I'm just cautious." He looks into your eyes as he says, "You should be too."
You sigh and lean down, kissing him. "I know. I will be. I just don't want to push him away. I think I'm the only friendly face he has around campus…"
Spencer nods, and opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closes it, and the two of you spend the rest of your evening in silence, unanswered questions lingering in the air between you.
"Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall." –Romeo and Juliet
"You okay?" you ask Spencer one night while you're sitting on your bed together, watching something on your laptop. Tonight you were trying to get him into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but he seemed more distracted than normal.
He looks up at you, a glazed look in his eyes before sighing. "The case we finished today? It was a stalker case. This man was in love with this woman and we had to make her tell him she was in love with him to get him to let his guard down," Spencer explains and you turn to face him, not saying anything. "We shot him. In the end. He died while the woman was sobbing into her husband's arms." You reach out and place a hand near Spencer, not touching him. He reaches out and takes your hand, kissing it. "I just keep thinking about how she'll never feel safe around another man again."
"You did what you could and you saved her life, Spencer," you say quietly and he looks at you sadly. "I'm so proud of you."
"But what about the people we can't save?"
You sigh and kiss Spencer lightly. "You can't think about that. Think about the families you saved, the women, the children. You saved a life! That's amazing, Spencer."
Spencer smiles and nods but he doesn't look convinced. You just kiss him again and go back to watching Buffy.
"<i>For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?</i>" –Much Ado About Nothing
You startle as a knock sounds at your door. You aren't expecting visitors. Spencer's out with work, and he said not to expect him back for a few days. It's only been two, and he can't have caught the guy that quickly already.
But when you open your door, Spencer is standing there, his eyes puffy and red, and before you can ask any questions, he's pushing himself into your arms. You stumble back and close the door before sinking to the floor, letting Spencer cry into your arms.
"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,
But Lust's effect is tempest after sun.
Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain;
Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done.
Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies;
Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies." –Venus and Adonis
"I love you," you say one evening while you're sitting on the couch, Spencer's head in your lap. You're running your fingers through his hair as you say this, making it fan out around his head like a halo of auburn curls.
He cracks an eye open at you and smiles. "Really?"
You roll your eyes. "Yes. I do. And I just thought I should say it," you say, and Spencer sits up, leaning in to kiss you. You put your hands on his cheeks and smile into the soft kiss.
He pulls away and says, "I want you to meet my mom."
Your eyes go wide and you open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You frown before asking, "When?"
"I have some vacation time saved and we could wait until summer break!" Spencer exclaims, causing your frown to drop. "You're not teaching again until the second half of summer break, so we can see her then."
"I've never been to the west coast before…" you say, trailing off and looking away. Spencer goes to say something but you cut him off with a smile. "But, that's okay. I want to meet her."
Spencer grins and grabs your face, kissing you like his life depends on it. You laugh as he gets up and runs out of the living room, whooping with joy.
"I love you, Spencer Reid!" you shout.
"Love you too!" he shouts back.
"Lovers and madmen have such seething brains
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends." –A Midsummer Night's Dream
It's a week until the end of term, finals right around the corner, and you have been stuck in your office for most of the day. Most of the week actually. You gave your students the last few days off to study for their finals, and to finish their final essays for you while you finished editing the last of their work before you were bombarded with essays and tests.
Your phone rings on your desk, but you turn off the noise, groaning as the red light beeps incessantly. It's been doing that for the past half an hour. You even had to turn your mobile off and shove it into an unused drawer of your desk.
After another five minutes of the light beeping, you pick up your phone.
"WHAT!" you scream into the receiver.
"Uh, Dr. [L/N]?" you hear someone say quietly into the phone.
"You know, I'm very busy right now and I can't handle distractions so if you would just-"
"Someone's shooting up the school."
Your blood runs cold as a knock sounds at your door, and you watch the knob turning. You gulp as the voice on the other end of the line tries to get your attention, but you can't hear them. All you can hear is the creak of your door as it's slowly pushed open.
"Mr. [Y/N]!" You hear someone shout as they enter your office. It's Parker. And he's holding a gun. "I thought I heard you in here! Who are you talking to?"
You go to answer, but the words die in your throat.
"I- I don't actually know. They-they were calling to tell me about you," you say finally, hanging up the phone as the person yells on the other side of the line.
Parker closes your door and walks over to your desk with a happy smile on his face. "I came to get you, [Y/N]," he says, and you force a smile onto your face.
"Really?" you ask, hoping your nervousness doesn't give anything away.
He nods. "It's just you and me now! Forever!"
You gulp, but smile. "Uh huh…"
"The only thing left in our way is that whore who calls himself your boyfriend…" Parker says, and your smile drops.
"Spencer?" you can't help the wavering in your voice as you say his name.
Parker nods and places his hand against his chin. "Yes. Maybe you can call him? I'm sure he's already on his way over here."
You gulp, but nod. You pick up your desk phone and dial Spencer's number from memory. While your memory may not be anywhere close to as good as his, you forced yourself to memorize it in case it was an emergency.
After the first ring, the phone is picked up. "[Y/N]? Are you okay? I've tried calling you for the past twenty minutes and you haven't picked up!" Spencer exclaims on the other end of the line.
You take a deep breath before looking up at Parker, who's smiling expectantly at you. He nods. "Spencer, can you come to my office?"
"I'm outside. Is everything okay?" he asks.
"Tell him to leave his gun and vest outside," Parker whispers and you nod.
"You need to leave your gun and vest outside," you say, your voice shaking with every word.
"Oh!" Parker exclaims and leans forward. "And tell him if he doesn't do all that, I'm going to kill you."
You let out a sob and say into the phone, shaking, "If you don't do what's been asked, he's going to- he's going to kill me, oh!" you exclaim, another sob escaping your lips. You hear Spencer start to say something, but Parker puts a finger down on the plunger and you hear the dial tone in your ear. You slowly take the phone away from your ear and look at it shaking in your grip.
You watch absently as Parker's fingers brush yours, getting you to open your hand, and you let him take the phone, and put it back down on your desk.
You keep staring off into the middle distance, even as Parker's hand rests on your chin. He turns your head and your eyes lock onto his. You can see the simmering rage bubbling underneath the feigned love that he's projecting. It's probably not even conscious. You don't know if a man like him even <i>could</i> fall in love.
You hear a knock at your door and Parker moves away from you, but grabs your arm forcefully. Your hips push into the desk painfully and you let out a small whimper. Parker's hand on your arm relaxes slightly and he pulls you around your desk to stand next to him at his side, his gun pointed at the dark wooden door that is slowly opening.
You see Spencer slowly pushing the door open, his other hand raised to show he's unarmed.
"Stay there," Parker says, holding his gun level at Spencer's chest.
"Okay. Okay," Spencer says, putting his other hand up. "No one needs to get hurt."
Parker shakes his head. "No. No. They do. They're going to come in the way of us!"
Parker looks down at you and you look up at him, wide eyed. "No, they won't. No one can come in between us," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Spencer's right. No one needs to get hurt."
Parker closes his eyes and shakes his head again. "Spencer, Spencer… Why Spencer? Why him? Why not me?"
You grab his arm and say, "It is you, Parker! It will always be you!" you look over at Spencer, asking with your eyes if you're doing a good job, if this is what you should be doing. He gives you a miniscule nod. You remembered from before when you talked about guys like Parker. "I don't love Spencer. I love you."
Your heart breaks as you say this, but you know that Spencer knows it isn't true. Parker's the only one who needs to believe it.
"Say it," he says, before looking over at the man in question, "to him."
You gulp and look at Spencer, leaning more into Parker's side as you say, "Spencer, I don't love you. I never loved you. I'm in love with Parker. Nothing will be able to keep up apart."
"[Y/N]..." Spencer says, heartbreak evident on his face. Either he's a really good actor or he actually believes it. You sincerely hope it's the former.
Parker nods when you look at him, and grins. "Let's get out of here…" he says, holding out his hand. You take it gingerly and he pulls your back to his chest, still holding Spencer at gunpoint. He flicks the gun further into your office, and Spencer moves with his hands up, tears streaming from his face as he moves across from you in the room.
Parker backs up slowly through the room towards the door, his gun still pointed at Spencer. As soon as he steps out into the hallway, you hear the gunshot.
You feel Parker fall behind you, and you run back into your office, falling to the floor, and only then do you start crying. You sob loudly, and when you're pulled into a chest, you only cry harder.
You hear Spencer whispering to you, and you feel his tears on your hair, your neck as he says, "I can't lose you too. I can't. I just can't…"
You pull him closer, pulling your legs to your chest as you sob, "I love you. I love you so much. I didn't mean anything I said!"
"I know," he whispers, kissing your head. "I know."
"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." –Much Ado About Nothing
"I've never been to Vegas before!" you exclaim as you get off the plane. "Can we go to any casinos? I've never gambled before!"
Spencer chuckles as he grabs your hand, pulling you through the airport. "We'll see. I've been banned from a few, so I don't know if they'll let me in…" he says, trailing off and you laugh. "Did you know that what most people think of as Las Vegas is actually called Paradise? In the late 1940s, after the second world war was over, the city of Las Vegas actually banned gambling. The rich gamblers in town weren't happy with that so they created a town called Paradise and made gaming legal there. Well, it's not a town, but more like unincorporated land that doesn't follow Las Vegas' laws."
You grin and grab your bag when it comes around. While Spencer was talking, you had gone to the baggage claim and your bag had already been around once. While Spencer was used to traveling light, with only a go bag, you were not.
"I did not know that," you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he pulls out towards the exit.
You get the car he rented and you let him drive you to Bennington. He wanted to go back to the hotel for a night before seeing his mom, but you didn't want him to waste any more time. You would freshen up after.
You and Spencer are ushered through the sterilized, but still personable, halls of the sanitarium, and into a large room with a couple of other people in it. You see a blonde, short haired woman sitting on a couch and Spencer starts walking over to her.
When she sees him, her face lights up and she exclaims, "Spencer!"
"Hey mom," he says, giving her a wave. "I wanted to introduce you to someone."
She turns and looks you up and down, before wringing her hands out and looking at her son. "Is this the man you told me about in your letters?"
Your eyebrows raise at that and you ask Spencer, "You talked to her about me?" he looks at you, nervous, but you smile. "All good things, I hope." He grins and grabs your hand. You turn to Diana and hold out your hand. "Hi. I'm Dr. [Y/N] [L/N]. Spencer's told me so much about you. He really loves you."
She smiles and takes your hand lightly before letting go. "Yes, he's told me a lot about you too. He loves you too," she says, and you smile at him.
"And I love him," you reply.
"Journeys end in lovers' meeting; every wise man's son doth know" –Twelfth Night
#Spencer reid#spencer reid x male reader#spencer reid x you#spencer read x reader#diana reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x y/n#spencer reid x y/n#my work#my writing
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A Certain Romance (2/6)
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 1,685
Warnings: not rlly anything
A/N: a lil bit of a deeper dive for these two’s relationship👀... enjoy!
MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST
Your apartment is nice. Very you.
Sam invited him out to some restaurant, but after the last one he suggested, he decided to pass. And when Sam asked him what he was doing instead, if he was seeing you, Bucky lied and said yes. It made Sam happy and got him out of going to another ridiculous restaurant, so he saw it as a win-win.
Once Sam left, though, his thoughts did drift to what you were doing.
You two exchanged numbers at the pizza place after your date, but you two haven’t texted much. He texted you making sure you got home safe, which you did, and a day or so after, you texted him a picture of some advertisement with an awfully cheesy pick-up line written on it, which even he agreed was awful.
But that’s about it. So, he texts you.
Hey. What are u doing?
About to make dinner. Y?
Told Sam I was seeing u. Wanna hang out?
Come over.
Simple enough, he thinks.
You two haven’t had the most meaningful text conversations, clearly, but it’s still nice. No flirting, no typing and retyping messages in order to hook, line, and sinker, no ghosting. No relationship texting.
It was a dream for him. To have a new friend. He’s made plenty of friends, both in New York and in Wakanda. But it’s all under the same… umbrella. Always an agent, a fighter, an analyst of some sort. Someone to train with, to fight with, to fight for. Never someone like you. Someone that works a mundane job and lives in a mundane part of New York where her weekends are filled with going on mundane blind dates or otherwise cooking dinner for one.
It’s a breath of fresh air to not talk about fighting or missions or press or media or anything else he has to hear about at work. The only connection you have with Sam is that you met in a coffee shop a few years ago that has since closed down. He was one of your first friends here.
You could care less about Captain America, too. Which hurts Sam’s ego, and in turn, makes Bucky smile.
So, he goes over to yours.
He’s not sure what you’re making, but he brings a bottle of red wine as a courtesy. You are making dinner after all. Besides, women love wine, right?
Your apartment is nice. Very you.
Enough going on to show that someone does indeed live here, but also enough to show that you’re not exactly swimming in riches, like most people that live in this city.
The place smells like garlic and basil, and he’s glad that he brought the wine.
Shoes discarded at the door, he helps chop up the rest of the ingredients while you put a pot of water to boil. He chops up mushrooms, onion, pancetta, eyeing the bottle of vodka out on the table and tube of tomato paste next to his hand.
It's an understatement to say he’s excited. Most of the pasta he makes is from a bag of precooked noodles and a jar of tomato sauce.
Basic small talk floats through the air as the two of you dance around one another in the kitchen. Even though you’re “dating”, you don’t know much about each other. This isn’t too uncommon from how dating was for Bucky when he was a teenager; you’d marry women knowing very little about them.
Your favorite color is orange. You played violin in grade school. You had a childhood dog named Chowder. Bucky tells you his favorite color is green. He played a little bit of piano when he was younger, but did boxing in his late teens and early twenties before the war. You poke fun at him when he can’t remember the name of his own childhood dog.
“He’s probably rolling over in dog-heaven.”
“Good boy; he’d deserve a treat.”
You laugh.
Easy conversation continues on the couch as bowl after bowl of pasta is eaten and replenished. As fun and seemingly simple questions are asked, like each of your favorite movies or whether or not you pour the milk before the cereal, the room that’s left is used for deeper questions.
“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” You ask him.
He thinks for a moment before opening his mouth, only to close it again. “One time when Princess Shuri was fixing my arm it wasn’t secure completely, so it flew off while I was playing with some of the children.”
“That’s not your most embarrassing moment. I know it’s not, now you have to tell me what it really is.” You tease him.
He’s never been the best liar.
“You’re right, it’s not my most embarrassing moment. My actual most embarrassing moment is just kind of… sad. And I didn’t want to ruin the mood or anything.” He explains, hoping you’ll accept that but instead you give him an encouraging smile to hopefully give him some comfort that whatever it is he wants to tell you is safe in your apartment.
“Okay, uhm. So, in the 40’s, after I was rescued by Steve, but before we shipped out again where I was recaptured for the second and final time. We were all holed up in this little dance club, all the soldiers and their gals. And in walks Peggy Carter in a pretty red dress,” He begins, only glancing at your eyes periodically as if to make sure you’re still there.
“I know she’s Steve’s gal, he told me all about her. I wasn’t flirting with her because I wanted her, I was flirting with her… to make sure I still could. I mean, after being held in that… place… they injected me with stuff, told me things that weren’t true, I mean Steve told me I was repeating my number over and over again when he found me, I didn’t even remember doing that. I felt… violated, used, not like myself. I felt like I wasn’t me anymore.
“So, when Peggy walked in, I thought about how everyone always called me a ladies man, how good I was with women, I mean, I’d take girls out about every damn weekend, you know? I wanted to feel normal, so I flirted with her, tried to get her to dance with me. And she completely ignored me. She never even took her eyes off of Steve. It’s like I was invisible. And it just sort of felt like the nail in the coffin for whoever James Barnes was before the war. It was a realization that I’m never going to be that person again. And it was embarrassing for me.” He explains.
He hasn’t looked up at you again, but he heard your fork stop moving around your bowl a minute or so ago. He feels a lump in his throat thinking about that time, how he knew he’d never get back the man he was, even before knowing what was in store for him after falling off that train. How he used to be this man that wanted a long, happy marriage, six or seven kids running around a big backyard, a white picket fence surrounding a big two-story house in a neighborhood of identical homes. He wanted the cheesy life, at one point. But the same man that wanted that life died falling off a train many years ago.
All of that’s forgotten, though, when you open your mouth, and seem to say the perfect thing to make him feel better.
“One time in the third grade, this girl pulled my skirt down in front of my crush, and I wasn’t wearing any undies.”
A snort escapes his throat as you, somehow, after he’s shared something so deeply personal, something he never even told Steve or Sam about, still found a way to make him laugh. Which is what he wanted, he realizes. The comfort of moving on from that confession and not having to wallow in it like other people would try to. His hand leaves his fork to cover his face as tears threaten to leak out from how hard he’s laughing.
He took that secret to the grave, even if it wasn’t his own. He told himself he’d never tell Steve about how he felt in that situation, and he never did. He never told Steve that he didn’t enlist, either. He couldn’t imagine how Steve would’ve felt knowing that the army would’ve rather taken men that didn’t want to go to war, men who were terrified to go to war, had too much to lose and wanted to be selfish and stay home, than men like Steve who would do anything to enlist. Including lying on the damn enlistment form.
He wonders if Steve is looking at him now. Watching over him as he shares something that he never did with his best friend, with you, a girl he’s met barely a week ago, on your couch over bowls of pasta while he points out leftover sauce on the corner of your lip.
“What’s your greatest fear?” He asks you next.
“Dying alone. Actually, no. Getting kidnapped, probably.”
“Oh, mine’s spiders.” He shares.
It’s so easy to laugh with you, he finds. He jokes with Sam a lot, all the bickering and teasing all in good fun at the end of the day, and it’s mostly pretty funny. But laughing with you. He feels like a teenager again. Somehow, everything is funny; he doesn’t remember the last time he’s laughed so much, especially about things that aren’t even that funny.
It’s raining at the end of the night. Early morning, rather.
“You can take the couch, if you’d like.”
“Nah, I don't mind a little rain, and I like the ride home.” He fed Alpine before he left, but he imagines his cat misses him, even if she’s probably busy licking herself to even notice he’s left.
“Suit yourself.”
You don’t push him. A simple pleasure that’s more of a luxury for him. There’s no pushing or convincing or Are you sure’s with you.
Certainly a luxury, you are.
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what do you think are the ideal type of people for the original miraculous? (Or just like whoever you want i dont wanna ask too much)
You mean the main 7 or original as like, my originals?
I'm going to assume you mean the main seven. And I'll list what I believe are necessary traits for them to use them well.
Ladybug: requires the observant and complex thinkers who can work on the fly and be resourceful and innovative, be open to all possibilities that come before them, and are a benevolent helper who readily puts others before themselves. Leadership skill is not necessary, but requires some capability of directing others to help with situations as needed. In the case of having Tikki as a kwami, be conscious of their own needs and know when to say no and put their foot down. Despite what she says, users need to be conscious to not pile too much on themselves, and their happiness and needs matter too.
Cat: requires those who work off instinct, are observant, and responsive. This miraculous works off aggression, speed, and being calculative with the power Cataclysm; it needs someone who can think on their feet, be ready to act on their own and experiment/take risks, and be willing to fight. It especially needs someone with a very big heart and is aware of not only others, but all that surrounds them as this is a dangerous power to be reckless and selfish with. With Plagg as a kwami, needs someone who is ready to be diligent to make up for his laziness, be aware of their own faults and have capacity to grow on their own without his intervening (he goes in expecting humans to figure it out themselves), and to not always let selfishness or his suggestions tempt them. There are times to put your wants and needs first, but not always.
Butterfly: requires those ruled by their heart, are good listeners, are full of empathy and love. This miraculous works off making connections with others, offering guidance and support, but also being willing to rely on another. Recommended to have good communication skills, patience, and having some leadership capability. It can be up to the user to decide how involved they'd like to be, whether helping in a fight or overseeing from a distance. This miraculous is open and flexible.
Fox: requires elaborate thinkers, full on schemers, the creative, those who are reactive, have full capability to think on their feet, can and will act on their own and don't always need direction or guidance, fully capable of being a solo show if it comes to it or help others on their own terms, and be ready risk takers. Best given to those who are curious/nosy for they are willing to take risks to learn, and are quite fully capable of keeping secrets. This miraculous doesn't require a good liar, but does need someone who is fully capable of manipulating and directing others, and being skillful in the art of misdirection. Not recommended for those who likes to be in the heat of things and fight directly.
Bee: requires those who are calculating, ready to fight when needed but won't sting so recklessly, and can either be a leader, follower, or work on their own. Perfect for those who like to be in the heat of things and directly involved.
Turtle: requires the reactive, the involved, and those who are aware of their surroundings and keeping track of others. Recommended to the brave risk takers with hearts of gold, to be ready to protect their allies from dangerous situations. Not recommended to those who want to fight. This also offers self protection to those who risk themselves.
Peafowl: requires those who are ingenious, creative, watchful, and charismatic. Those who are ready to win and are open to the possibilities of how they will. Users are fully ok being a solo show, here to shine with the use of their own imagination and creations, or help others on their own terms. Not recommended for those who are ready to fight, though this is more capable of doing so than Fox, but still not so ideal.
#ask Punchie#miraculous headcanons#ladybug miraculous#cat miraculous#butterfly miraculous#fox miraculous#bee miraculous#turtle miraculous#peafowl miraculous#these headcanons are purely working off canon specifically#though tweak peafowl so that they just make a golem#and there's no reaching out to others
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doing it for the views
Alya knew Lila was lying. Like come on, Jagged Stone never had a kitten, he had Fang, his crocodile! And why would you openly state that you are best friends with one of the Heroes of Paris? Lila was bad at lying. But Alya didn’t care. When she posted the interview she did with Lila, she got SO many views. More than anything else she had posted! Alya knew Lila had so many “connections” so this could be her big break, leading into her reporting career, even if Lila was lying. It wasn’t like anyone was going to find out...
“ALYA! SHE’S LYING! Why can’t you believe me? You’re my best friend!” Marinette cried. I know she’s lying, girl, but this is helping my career. If you knew, you’d understand. I’m sorry, but for now, I have to act like she’s telling the truth, Alya thought.
Alya took a breath and responded to her claim. “Marinette! She’s not lying! You’re just jealous because of how close she is to Adrien, and jealous of all her connections! You’ve got to stop!” All of their classmates agreed with her, brushing off Marinette’s attempts to warn them as jealousy.
Marinette gasped. She thought Alya was being ridiculous not believing Lila, but now including her crush on Adrien? Marinette broke. She was done being categorized as being mean because of Adrien! “Wow. I thought you’d believe me. But I guess I was wrong. All of you don’t believe me! Even my oldest friends.” She glanced at Nino and Kim, who looked away guiltily. “If you don’t believe me, fine. Believe the liar.” Marinette walked out of the room, just as Lila strolled in.
“I saw Marinette looking mad. Is she alright?” Lila asked in a faux sweet voice.
“She’s just being jealous of you because of Adrien. She’s so annoying!” Alix grumbled.
“I know! Can’t she be considerate of all of Lila’s disabilities?” Rose cried.
“Oh no, was she fighting with you guys about me? I can’t believe I’m wrecking your class apart! Maybe I should just leave...”
“NO! Lila it’s not your fault that Marinette can’t see how great you are! We are willing to sacrifice our friendship with her if it means sticking up for you.” Lila hid a smirk.
Alya couldn’t believe how low her class was. They just believed Lila over Marinette! They were playing with her feelings! How could they! ______________________________________________________________________________________
NO WAY. 10,000 VIEWS?! Alya though as she scrolled through the LadyBlog. She checked on the interview of Lila she posted, and BAM! 10,000 VIEWS! Alya loved to bask in compliments and fame, so she decided to look through the comments...
dolphinlover8726: ummm, this isnt true
ladybugxcatnoir: ladybug’s best friend? ha, as if
peterparkerfan_12: xd her lies are almost as bad as trump-
totally_ravenclaw: hold up, jagged stone never had a kitten...
miraculous_sunflower: this is false information. please take it down, ladyblogger
Many of the comments were like that, but who cares? Lila’s lies weren’t hurting anybody. Maybe I could wait until I got an internship. Then I could spin this whole story about how Lila was lying the whole time, and I, Alya Cesaire, aka the Ladyblogger, unveiled them! That would make me even more popular, Alya thought. Oh, she would get popular all right, just not in the same way...
______________________________________________________________________________________
“How was your day, Alya?” her mother asked. Alya, watching the news intently, was hoping for scoops of celebrity gossip.
“It was good,” she absently replied. Her eyes were glued to the screen as Nadja Chammack’s show had just appeared.
“Don’t be bemused! It’s just the News! This is Nadja Chammack on ‘Face to Face’. Let’s start off with our most recent story. The LadyBlog, which used to be a blog dedicated to the Heroes of Paris, has fallen. The Ladyblogger has been posting false claims about a girl, Lila Rossi, saying that she rescued Jagged Stone’s kitten, when he has never had one. Now, helping us clear the claim, joining us now is internationally-known rock star, Jagged Stone! Hello, Mr. Stone. “
“Hello, Nadja, and call me Jagged. Now, what’s about these stories I’ve been hearin’ about a girl saving my kitten?”
“Well, Jagged, it’s posted on the LadyBlog that this Lila Rossi has saved your kitten on an airplane turmar, as well as claiming that you’d written a song about her. Are any of these statements actually true?”
“Kitten?! Haha, that girl is a bad liar. I’ve never had a cat, only Fang ove’ here. And writing a song about her? That sounds weird. A 30-year old man writing a song for a 15-year old? I’ve only written a song for Ladybug, and that’s because of how awesome she is! ” Jagged responded.
“On the topic of Ladybug, Lila Rossi has also claimed that she is best friends with her. Any comments?” Nadja asked.
“There’s no way Ladybug would befriend someone like her! Whoever this Lila chick is, you’re a horrible liar, and the Ladyblogger has messed up a whole lot. Anyways, I got to go, love. Good-bye, all of my beloved fans!” Jagged waved dramatically.
“There you have it! The LadyBlog has indeed been posting false claims, and Lila Rossi is a liar! Next up on Face to Face, we have Mirelle Caquet joining us to talk about the hardships of being a weather girl! Stay tuned!” Nadja concluded. Alya went pale.
_______________________________________________________________________
Alya went into class the next day, and sure enough, the class was eerily quiet. Lila looked like a ghost, her face as pale as a sheet. The whole class looked angry, sans Marinette and Adrien.
“Alya, you saw Face to Face yesterday, right?” Alix asked.
“She lied! Lila lied about everything!” Rose cried.
“Yeah, I did.” Alya replied calmly. She was going to explain the situation to her classmates, and of course they’d understand why she was doing this, and maybe they’d help her spin the story to make it seem like-
“WHY DIDN'T YOU FACTCHECK?” Alix yelled, clearly furious with the situation.
“Let me explain. Don’t get mad, but I knew Lila was lying,” Alix growled, and many other classmates gasped, “But hear me out. I only kept posting her lies on the LadyBlog because of the views. I knew if I wanted an internship, I’d have to do anything to start up my career. You guys understand right?” Alya obliviously said.
“YOU’RE ALMOST AS BAD AS ADRIEN NOT KNOWING MARINETTE HAS A CRUSH ON HIM!” The class blurted out. Adrien looked shocked, and Marinette gasped and turned a shade of red that shouldn’t be possible.
“Whaaaa…” Alya was confused. What did she do?
“You could’ve warned us that they were lies, Alya!” Rose sniffled.
“You only thought about yourself, not us!” Mylene attacked.
“Guys, I was doing it to help my career! Also, it wasn’t like her lies were hurting anyone!” Alya retorted.
There was a period of silence, until a confident voice flowed through the classroom. “They hurt me,” Marinette said. She calmed down about the whole crush thing, but her face was still tinted with the slightest shade of pink.
“Lila threatened me the day she came back from her supposed trip. She said that she would take all my friends and make me lonely,” Marinette left out the part about Adrien, “And I guess she was right.” Marinette turned to a confused Lila. “Thank you, Lila. You’ve shown me that my friends don’t trust me. I now know who my real friends are.” She glanced at Adrien timidly, and was relieved when he sent a timid smile back. Long before Lila’s exposure on ‘Face to Face’, Adrien took back his “take the high road” advice as soon as he heard that Lila threatened Marinette. He tried to tell his classmates, but they’d never listen to him. He helped Marinette out as much as he could.
Marinette sat back down, but not in her usual seat. She went and sat next to Adrien, who looked at her, shocked for a second, then took her hand in his.
Everyone was shocked when they learned what Lila did to Marinette. Alya started, “Girl, I’m so sorry! If I’d known she -”
“It shouldn’t matter if you knew or not. You should’ve believed me, but you didn’t. Our friendship is broken. Permanently.” Marinette stated.
“WHAT?! WHY?!” Alya demanded.
Marinette sighed. Alya truly was oblivious to her actions. “First of all, you acted like you didn’t believe me, which hurt a lot. Second, you only acted like you believed her because you wanted views on your blog! You don’t get it, Alya! Your actions cost you consequences, and I’m not sure if you understand that.”
“Bu-but,” Alya tried to stutter out, but Adrien gave her a look that mimicked his father’s.
“Lila hurt us too. She gave us false promises. She told Kim that she knew Michael Phelps, and that she’d put a good word in for him. She told Nathaniel that she’d introduce him to that super famous manga artist in Japan.” Ivan pointed out.
The class understood Ivan’s point. Alya gasped. She never really thought about it that way. I mean, nothing hurt her!
“Marinette, we’re so sorry. We understand what our actions did to you, and we apologize. We understand that you’d want some space to yourself right now.” Alix said, and the rest of the class nodded.
Marinette smiled. “Thank you for understanding. While you’ve lost my trust in you, I’d like to build up our friendship again. Alya, on the other hand, I’d like to talk to you.”
The class smiled back, and sensing Alya’s anger, shuffled out of the classroom, with Adrien leading the way to leave the two girls alone to talk. Lila blinked, and also strolled out.
“C’mon, Mari! What did I do! You understand that I only pretended to believe her because of the views, right?!” Alya started out.
“Alya, you understand, do you? Lila hurt all of us. You made a bad decision not telling the class as soon as you found out, and now you’ve lost all their trust in you. You should have told me that you knew, and shouldn’t have been so selfish about your own career. I can’t forgive you for what you’ve done. And I don’t think I can ever build up our friendship again.” Marinette walked through the door frame.
“Goodbye, Alya.”
At that moment, Alya knew she messed up. She knew she lost the LadyBlog, and her reputation was damaged, but worst of all, she lost her best friend. She only did it for the views.
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asa butterfield x reader
request: wasn’t requested, but we wrote this in march and decided to post. we’re opening our inbox to other actors and characters, so feel free to send us a request :)
warnings: mentions of sex (slight), crude language, a family gathering
word count: ~2000
Your grandmother threw open her front door, hair in curlers to match her fuzzy pink slippers. Her face brightened at the sight of you, yet once her eyes fell to Asa it was like you were last year's ham. She nearly hooted in excitement before throwing her arms around him and dragging him inside, Asa’s face furrowing as he looked back at you. You smirked slightly, hanging your jacket on the already full coat tree by the door and kicking off your shoes before meandering through her gigantic house in search of your boyfriend. There were various cousins sprawled out around her living room and hanging out of the archway to the kitchen while watching whatever sport was on TV.
You furrowed your brows at the group and half of them pointed down the hallway where a round of hollering and an old crackly radio was sounding off. You nodded and moved in the direction they sent you, turning a few corners before going through the sliding glass door in the back, spotting Asa being shown off to several of your uncles from different generations and your older cousins by your small grandmother. You sighed, coming out from behind them and capturing the attention of the group who greeted you with smiles and a few pinches on the arm. The stereotypical conversation questions were thrown around briefly: How is school? How’s the job? Are you hungry?
Some of the guys were talking to Asa and shaking his hand a ridiculous amount until you finally had enough. “Oma, maybe you should go get ready?” You suggested, finally taking hold of Asa’s arm to pull him from her grasp. She inhaled sharply as if forgetting she was walking around in a housecoat while her guests continued to fill her house. You were sure Asa would already be overwhelmed, him being whisked off was not what you had expected, but he remained smiling, talking to whoever started conversations with him. You couldn’t really believe it but Asa was prospering.
Before you knew it, the two of you were sat beside each other at a long table of most of your cousins, separate from the massive group of adults, passing food amongst yourself and talking over the polka music that seemed to always be playing from the radio in the living room. You leaned over to Asa as he passed you a basket of rolls. “Are you all right?” You whispered, passing the food again.
He smiled at you slightly, his icy blue eyes seemingly lighting up even more. “Never better. Relax, okay?” He mumbled, sending you a wink. You hadn’t realized how tensed up you were as you dropped your shoulders at his words. If you weren’t surrounded by family members, you would have kissed him. The meal went on without ripples, listening to how people were doing in school and sitting through several of the members of the family closer to your age tell embarrassing stories about yourself to Asa like it had happened last week, not when you were three and still wearing Garanimals.
“You’re Asa, right?” One of your middle school aged cousins asked from across the table. She put her chin in her hand, her makeup more intricate than you ever could master. He shook his head hesitantly. “You’re probably so good you don’t use protection. Am I right?” Her almost seductive glance and question made you choke on your water and Asa’s mouth dropped open a bit as the man beside her cackled heavily.
“Oh, my God,” you breathed. “You can’t say that,” you hissed and she shrugged.
Her eyes trailed him from across the table. “I don’t hear a ‘no’.”
You groaned, telling Asa to ignore her through gritted teeth. “You should always use protection,” he answered instead, attempting to hold back his own laugh as you kicked him under the table, sending the man next to her into even greater fits of laughter.
“Are you staying at oma’s tonight?” Another asked, thankfully one that hadn’t heard the previous topic.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, debating if it was too late to get a hotel. “No, I haven’t drawn a card yet…” You mumbled, trying not to alert Asa beside you.
Your actions were for nothing as he piped up. “What is drawing a card?”
At his question, several of the cousins attempted to answer at once, urging you to let him be the one to draw this time and you shook your head. “My grandmother has a deck of cards that have locations written on them and whenever there’s a family gathering, you draw a card to figure out where you’re staying. It’s because my dad’s generation all fought over who was staying with Uncle Mike,” you answered, closer to his ear to combat the several voices. “But we should just get a hotel room-”
“That’s breaking the rules and you know it!” Another cousin yelled, pointing his fork at you.
You shook your head. “You’re a grown ass man and you still want a shot at staying with Uncle Mike?” You almost snapped, making him shrug.
“You’re just pissed because you never get it!” He snapped back.
You shook your head almost dramatically. “What if I didn’t want to stay with Uncle Mike?”
“Liar!”
“I like staying with oma!”
He sent you a sarcastic smile as if to call your bullshit. “Fine then, we’re taking bets on who has to sleep in the tent.”
You had almost forgotten Asa was there until he piped up. “I have ten on you then,” he quipped and your heart slightly fluttered at him as your cousin pointed to him, leaning over the table aggressively to shake Asa’s hand as the other cousins began saying it was other people. One got up to grab an old pad of paper to take down the bets and you pinched the bridge of your nose between your index finger and thumb. Asa was loving every minute of this.
After dinner, half of your great uncles were passed out on the couch and your grandmother was shuffling her beat up deck of cards, long past the date it should have been retired. Your heart began to beat slightly, the adrenaline rushing through you as you thought about the bets that were made and the possibility of having to sleep outdoors. You sat on the couch, watching closely as the deck was brought around, shuffled and fanned out for each of the kids. Meanwhile Asa leaned his elbows on his knees, playing Cat’s Cradle with one of your younger cousins. Your leg rested against his as you focused on the cards, maybe it wasn’t the chance that you would have to sleep in a beat up old tent, but rather the rush of competition. So far, most of the spaces in the upper level of your grandma’s house had been taken as well as the spots in your cousin’s. Uncle Mike’s had yet to be completely claimed and the tent still hung in the air.
The deck came towards you, your grandmother swooping down slightly for the cousin that was entranced by the string game. She drew a card: the top bunk of one of many stacked beds at Uncle Mike’s. Her older brother cheered, knowing that you now had an even bigger chance of getting the tent. The deck was offered to Asa, your grandmother raising an eyebrow. “No, I don’t trust him,” you quickly stated, ignoring his sarcastically hurt expression. The deck was turned to you. “I love you, but you have some of the worst luck.” Your mind raced at what was left and then you realized that Asa would be sleeping with you. Then you prayed to whatever higher being could help you to not give you an upper floor. “We have a lot riding on this,” you muttered as she fanned the cards for you. You drew your card, quickly turning it over and snapping it around towards your cousins who all groaned at the fluent, swirling writing your grandma was known for.
“Are you kidding!”
“How?”
“Fuck! I could have bought a ton of M&M’s with that money.”
Your grandma whipped around to the last cousin to speak, yanking on his ear quickly and hissing, “Halt deinen Mund!” He put his hands up in defense looking at her with wide eyes and you smirked.
“Yeah, Halt deinen Mund,” you mocked and she snapped her fingers at you, making you close your mouth quickly before she moved on. You all broke out into a fit of giggles silently, relieved that no one had the tent yet. The one who made the bet with Asa was who you hoped would get it, in all honesty. You finally let out a breath, relaxing completely.
You snuggled into your seat, crossing your legs and throwing an arm around the section of the back of the couch where Asa was sitting. He leaned back, tucking under your arm slightly, raising an eyebrow in your direction. “And where did we get?”
You handed him the card. “Oma’s back basement room. There’s a waterbed, but other than that, it’s a win.”
He chuckled, flipping the card between his long fingers. “That could be fun,” he whispered slightly and you pushed his face away with your hand as he laughed. As the party died down enough that people were heading to their designated spots or out back to set piles of leaves on fire, you and Asa grabbed your bags and headed through the maze of a house to your room for the night and possibly the next. It really depended on how much Asa could actually take of your family.
Your room was just off the retro bar that was always used around the winter holidays. You thanked whoever was looking out for you up above as you threw your bags down on one of the dated couches and peaked into the newly renovated bathroom. “So, how are you feeling?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips as he slipped his sweater over his head and readjusting his t-shirt.
“I’m exhausted,” he stated, biting back a wide grin before plopping down into the middle of the bed, it sloshed around under his movements and he giggled slightly before laying back. You perked an eyebrow. “I’m ready. Fuck me on a waterbed,” he jeered, smirking up at you.
He tucked his arms beneath his head, and you sent him a tilted expression. “You are so strange.”
#asa butterfield#asa butterfield x reader#asa butterfield imagine#asa butterfield fluff#sex education#otis milburn#otis milburn x reader#miss peregrines home for peculiar children#jake portman#jake portman x reader
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one step back, two steps forward (pt. 6)
masterlist
Heroes are human under the mask
Walking to the class, Marinette felt light. She knew it won’t be the same once they get to the class. She sighed, a headache already forming about the excuse and accusation Lila will bring.
You know, you should come visit my place if you have time.
Kaylan told her breaking the uneasy silence. Marinette thanked her in her mind. She definitely ground her when she needed.
Is there something you need help with?
Not at all. My mom wants to meet you.
Your mom!
Marinette felt bewildered. This the first time Kaylan talked about her mom. She hadn’t asked about her parents. Everyone has the right to keep secrets. She can’t just pester someone for their secrets.
Not like Alya.
Yup! Mom wants to meet the girl who is sweet and kind and apparently became my friend rather fast.
I would love to. When are you free?
You can come after school if you want. I can text my mom the plan.
Sure I’ll ask my parents at lunch. Beside I’m meeting Luka and Kagami today at lunch. I can introduce you to them. They will love to have you there. Oh! I brought you some macrons. I wanted to bring them to you on second day but I was having bad day and then there was an akuma and I forgot about them. I’m so sorry!
Marinette! It’s ok! You are a human and mistakes happen. Don’t worry about it.
The said girl looked at her in gratitude. Never once has anyone allowed her to make a mistake. If it was as ladybug, mistakes mean death or her miraculous in wrong hands. And as Marinette, it means lectures to become a bigger person, good example or responsible person or worse the whole class ganging up on her.
Kaylan took the box and stashed it in her bag muttering about her mom being a ‘glutton’.
It felt nice, for someone to tell her that she can make mistakes. She might talk to Tikki about giving her a miraculous. For God sake, she needs a proper team with chat, Hawkmoth and Lila.
The sobbing from the class made them halt. They loud sobbing and people consoling her is definitely their classmates. Marinette felt dread in her stomach.
She knew what was about to go down. She had been through this too many times. As they entered the class, the familiar scene made her scared. Lila sat on the floor with all the girls (minus Chloe who just rolled her eyes) were comforting the sobbing girl. All the boys glared at Marinette.
Marinette! How could you?! You beat Lila just to get her for being close to Adrien. Your jealousy is going too far!
Alya the most loyal yelled. And like the domino effect, everyone started yelling.
You are so cruel!
You hurt poor Lila!
You deserve the worst!
One after another they threw insults. Marinette felt hurt. Weren’t they supposed to know her longer? Has years of friendship means they learnt nothing about her?
That’s funny.
Those two words made the whole crowd silent. They noticed the girl next to Marinette, who stared at Lila with a pout before turning towards Marinette. Lila gave a smirk. She didn’t knew it was this easy to turn the new girl against Maritrash. If she knew she had done it sooner. But her smug grin fell when the next words came out of her mouth.
Marinette you never tell me you can be in two places at the same time! You have to tell me about your ability to clone yourself!
W-wha-What are talking about?
Sabrina yelled at her like she was making some mumbo-jumbo nonsense.
Exactly what I’m saying. I mean Marinette and I were together all the time. I don’t remember her leaving me. So that means she must have cloned herself. The original Marinette was with me and the cloned one must have hurt Lila. It’s so fascinating.
Her fake awe towards Marinette made her and Chloe nearly burst out laughing. She was not rejecting Lila’s sentence and for the fools it was like she was sweetly blaming Marinette but smart people knew that she was calling out the liar.
How can we believe you that you two were together? Do you have a proof?
Alya the ever the poetic justice giver was now glaring at the new girl. (Kaylan: author stop calling me the new girl. I’m here for last 5 chapters.) Kaylan smirked. While it was a migraine to argue this class but to make them speechless is one thing that Kaylan love to do. More speechless they are, more peace she can enjoy.
Do you have a proof?
Huh?
Proof! Like you said that you can’t believe that Marinette was with me the whole day because I don’t have a proof. So do you have a proof that Lila was actually hurt by Marinette, like did you see it or did anyone you know saw Marinette hurting Lila? Anything will be fine.
The silence was deafening. No one spoke. Some opened their mouth to speak only to shut them when they realized that none of them actually saw Marinette doing such a thing. They didn’t saw Kaylan either. So there was no doubt that they can be actually be telling the truth.
But does that mean Lila was lying?
No.
Why should I believe a girl who arrived just recently over Lila who I have known for a long time…?
And yet you believed Lila over Marinette when some of you have known her since childhood if not the most of you.
The silence spread once again. Lila sat on the floor gritting her teeth. Her hard earned followers would just leave. She thought of a new strategy and a new wave of (quite fake that no one saw) tears came through.
What if you were there too?
She sobbed out and her sheep now glared at her. And yelling begin.
You would have been there!
You are just like Marinette!
You’re so cruel!
No wonder you became friends with Marinette, you both are so cruel!
Marinette looked in awe as the akuma class kept throwing insult after insult but the girl In front of her just stood smiling like some sly cat. It was like she like to rile them up. Marinette herself was strong but the way her friends had turned against her had broken her from the inside.
Maybe Kaylan wasn’t like her. She didn’t faced any betrayal. She might be an outside perspective.
“Mom wants to meet the girl who is sweet and kind and apparently became my friend rather fast.”
Her words echoed in her head. It was like there were some other meaning. Marinette shook her head and looked at the girl in front of her who was the center of attention of her class’ glares. But she kept her smug smile.
Her smug smile made the class angrier and the liar was gritting her teeth (not that anyone saw). But the slight satisfaction that came to her mind to see the liar agitated was pushed to the back of her mind rather quickly. (Tikki approved her chosen’s new friend and decided to give her lots and lots of blessing. Not that anyone knows.).
Chloe Bourgeois!
She called out loudly not turning to look at the said girl who perked up when her name was called. The whole class was confused and angry at the sudden turn of the conversation. Or rather the argument. (Even argument was a small word. More like accusation.).
I believe you carry make up wipes!
The very statement sent a shiver to a certain liar’s spine. She can’t be captured just like that. She put so much effort in this to make Marinette look bad. But the way that new brat looking at her she felt dread settling in her stomach. She was looking rather smug. She knew!
Chloe brought the wipes to the waiting girl who took one before slowly walking towards the girl who cowered in genuine fear. Lila felt like a prey. And she didn’t like it.
Ivan and Kim stood in front of her to stop her from approaching Lila or rather intimidate her. But Kaylan just smirked and swiftly pushed them down before snatching Lila’s hand and pulling to her. They all yelled at her trying to pull them apart. Because they thought that she was going to hurt their precious Lila but she has done her work when Lila was taken away from her.
The black eye that Lila had was now smudged and was spreading to the chin. She looked like a two face cheap knock-off. Everyone stilled. The make-up was running wild (at least the one used for the black eye).
Would you look at that...?
Kaylan turned the used wipe towards the class, showing them wiped “black eye”.
The oh-so hurting black eye that Marinette gave her is nothing but a load of black cosmetic.
Everyone looked at Kaylan before looking at Lila. The hesitation started to show.
Marinette could feel her cheek hurting with how big her smile was. She admired the new girl. She was smug because she knew that if she went with the flow she will still come out of it unscathed. Lila was the master of this game but Kaylan just threw her off her throne and took her place.
She could feel Tikki giggling silently and nudging her from the purse. Marinette step forward and took her arm before gesturing her towards their seat.
Next time you try to accuse Marinette or anyone for that matter make sure your lie is actually believable. Not all people are brain dead. I have seen my neighborhood gossip aunts lie far better than you.
Kaylan threw the wipe towards the tabloid reporter and took Marinette’s hand pulled her towards the back of the class. Kaylan didn’t missed the look of disappointment that Agreste threw towards the baker girl. But blocking his line of sight, Kaylan didn’t let them meet their eyes even once.
Chloe smirked and nodded at them, rather pleased at the drama that played out against the liar and her sheep. She gave a smug smirk whoever made an eye contact with her.
Now that’s a show!
Marinette took a double take towards the blond.
Glad to know that you find it entertaining, Bourgeois.
Kaylan smirked and winked at the blonde purposely ignoring the raised eyebrow the girl next to her gave her. Taking a seat, they looked at the class who hesitantly glared at them. It wasn’t as heated as before. Lila was gone. Where? Maybe to wash off the humiliation she faced.
But the seed of doubt was already sown in their hearts.
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A/n: ah! yes, the humiliation in front of the class is rather amusing but the class was still glaring at them. I wonder what I’ll write in the next part?
taglist:
@celestialmage23
@captainmac6
@skydisneylover
@miraculousvoltron
@just-a-bottle-of-chaos
@whiterosequeen23
@vinces-cove
@our-preciousss
@irontimetravelflower
@northernbluetongue
@constant-pain
@acelynlilsworld
@rainbowunicornspluscake
@namelesssky
#miraculous ladybug#one step back#two steps forward#original character#ml salt#class salt#Marinette needs a hug#someone give Marinette a hug#marinette deserves better#marinette protection squad
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Elizabeth Debicki - Gorgeous
A/N & WC - Back again with Elizabeth and Taylor Swift. Reputation is my favourite album currently, with evermore as a close second. Two incredible women in one yes please. Listen to 'Gorgeous' while reading for the feel of it. 2.8k exactly.
Warnings - Legal alcohol consumption, mild cursing once.
Summary - Elizabeth is gorgeous, just look at her, the world can see it. A drunken night leads to some tipsy confessions, but does Elizabeth feel the same?
“YOU'RE SO GORGEOUS…”
“What was that?” Elizabeth swiftly cuts in.
Your eyes grow wide in an instant, looking down intensely at the black table, sticky with spilt drinks, and turn your attention away.
“Nothing…” you trail off. Frankly, you hadn’t realised you were thinking aloud, but if you said what you were thinking, then tonight's girls night out with your best friend is gonna be a whole lot harder.
“So as I was saying, this guy from Bumble, he comes and he looks nothing like his profile picture, right?” Her eyes are so animated when she speaks, her jaw agog in a remembering shock, she taps at her glass with ebony painted fingernails. “Like his picture was a solid eight outta ten, but in person, not even a four. But there was something about him, you know? That little twinkle in his eye, so I gave him more of a fair shot than I do other catfishes.” You hum noncommittally, not necessarily listening to the words, but the soft undulating animation in her beautiful accent is worth listening to any day, even if just hearing about her going on a date with someone riles you up intensely. “No personality,” she gapes, smacking her lissom hands down on the table with a slight thump, causing some of her wine to spill. “Absolutely none! It was like talking to a brick wall for half an hour. Can you believe it? And he asked what part of Australia I was from, and when I said Melbourne, you know what he said? ‘Is that in New Zealand.’”
She scoffs, and downs the last of her wine. Her magnetic field is so strong, so alluring, you can’t help but feel drawn to her even more. She really should think about the consequences of her charisma or else you might snog her and ruin everything before the nights even over.
“What a dick,” you play along.
“Ugh, I know. Refill?”
“Please. Whiskey—”
“On ice. I know, hon.”
She smirks, shooting you a wink before standing up and practically gliding across the room to the bar. Your eyes twinkle with hope, with sinful want, as you watch her, and you’re sure that with your wistful expression and flushed cheeks and the way your mouth suddenly goes dry the second she says or does anything that could be construed in the least bit flirtatious that she knows how much you like her. Your whole body tingles, your words and sense swallowed up by an intense fire the second she touches you, it’s beginning to make you furious that she’s able to make you feel this way and still acts so coy about it if she even does have the first clue how utterly besotted you are with everything she does.
Over at the bar, Liz has to hunch to lean her forearms on the countertop, kicking her feet back a little, her short dress showing off her long, shapely legs with grace. She looks so sultry, with her leather jacket shrugged so casually over her pale shoulders. But your mind and illicit thoughts plummet and die the second you peer around her and capture a look at the bartender she’s talking to. Tall and that muscular build of slim that only comes from years of sport, a pinched waist and full chest, tanned skin—perhaps of Filipina descent, dark inky hair falling in tendrils from her work ponytail, no makeup and she still looks stunning. And exactly like Shay Mitchell. And she's flirting with your Elizabeth. Not that she’s yours or anything, that would be absurd, unless…
This woman is gorgeous, and you’re already jealous of her, of the attention she’s receiving from Elizabeth; the suggestive touches, the coy laughs, the revealing tug of her dress, the tentative tilt of her head, the run of her slender hand through her choppy blonde locks. But because Liz is single, it’s actually worse, because she’s been a lot more open and experimental with her sexuality recently, not labelling it but trying more out, trying more partners out. And you don’t fault her for that for even a moment, but why she can’t experiment with you, a raging queer, is beyond your grasp. It’s almost undoubted that she’s going to be taking this incredibly scorching hot bartender home at the end of the night, and if you weren’t out with Elizabeth, you’d be making the same move. But Liz… she desperately needs to think of the consequences of her touching this romans hand in a darkened room. That should be you.
You can’t get too possessive, though, as Liz has done her fair amount of touching you all night on this signature girls pub crawl, but it’s not the same, it’s not… enough. She’s been holding your hand, hooking her arm through yours to do shots, hugging you with her lithe arm around your waist as you totter down the high street in heels too high. It’s all been too friendly, though. And now it’s getting late, your final destination of the night. You’re practically the only patrons with a conscience at this point. You’ll be turning in soon, the bar will be closing soon, it’s inevitable. Liz will have a warm bed, and you’ll be left to go home alone to your cats. She’s so gorgeous, you can't blame the bartender, but she can’t blame you wither; love made you crazy.
You’re busy brooding over the ice slowly melting at the bottom of your glass, condensation forming in droplets on the rim when Liz casts a glance over her shoulder, a bright beaming smile etched upon her face, every line drawn up to match her glee. She points a long raven-painted digit at you, and prompts you to smile back, which you do—without even half as much fervour—and ensure you incline your head towards the bartender, whose dark hazel eyes are now fixed on you, before turning back, pretending to have found something of interest on the table.
“That’s y/n,” she says in a happy, furtive whisper, “my best friend.”
With her ocean blue eyes looking in yours, your mind is all scrambled, and with the intense feeling you might sink and drown and die, you know you need to get it in order before she returns, so you push your own stool out and head to stand in the doorway, fresh air hitting you like a brick wall.
The smell of the city instantly prevents it being worthwhile.
The sun set long ago, and you can see vines crawling up the building across the road from you, even in the dim street light and shadows. Even in a tucked away corner of the city, down back streets in a quiet quarter, the incessant incense of exhaust fumes and chippy food and pigeon shit never quite leaves one alone.
Everything’s winding down, quietening, muffled by an indelible blanket of night. A soft mist fills the air, an impending storm infiltrating your senses, roiling you a little. The walk home will be made worse by the rain soon to fall, ire digging at you for more reasons than one.
Elizabeth… She can make you so happy with one simple look that it turns back to sadness the moment you see the flicker of friendliness in her eyes, never anything more, never anything deeper, not once. What can you say? She’s gorgeous, she’s everyone else's for the taking, whoever she deems rakish enough to take home for the night.
The silence of the night, of your thoughts, is hewn by a sharp siren whizzing past you, so you push your pain away, and sidle back through the doors, shutting the slow drizzle of rain out as you close the door behind you.
Once you return inside, your thoughts slightly more reordered, you see her back at the table, fiddling idly with the hem of her dress, her cheeks tinted a soft red.
“So?”
“I got her number,” she confesses, barely able to bite back a smile, even as her perfect white teeth graze her lower lip. “She gets off shift in an hour.”
You were right, then.
“That’s nice. She’s hot.”
“I know,” she replies dreamily, “and looks exactly like Shay Mitchell, can you believe it? I fancied her so much when Pretty Little Liars first came out.”
“Yeah, I did too.” you admit quietly, clasping your hands around your fresh whiskey.
“You okay? It’s getting late, we can head off now.”
“Nope, absolutely fine. In fact, I think I’ll have another. Tell me something.”
“But we haven’t talked about you all night, I wanna know how your life is going. Love life too.” she protests.
What, your life with the monotonous job and the zero romantic prospects so you spend all your free time sitting at home reading and the nights with your vibrator and Liz in your head? How the hell are you supposed to tell her that.
You simply shrug, and keep a mask of cold, hard resolve in place. “You know my life. I’m interested in yours. Go on.”
So she does. And you do order another whiskey after your first, to the point where you’re verging on the highest restraints of merely tipsy and if you have another you’re heading fast for straight out drunk, which you shan’t do. But you’re merry, and Liz’s words all sound weird, slurred a little from the alcohol, her Australian accent bending to accommodate the vowel sounds she’s making with the occasional slip of a Polish or French word in there. She gets like this when she’s drinking, and it’s one of her most endearing qualities very few are able to see.
“Your voice sounds really weird,” you chuckle, leaning back in your chair, “you’re talkin’ all funny.”
“No I’m not!”
“You are.”
“Am so not!” She’s persistent, she never did back down easy.
You half heartedly shrug, knocking your glasses into one another on the table. You tug your jacket further around you, and purse your lips readying for battle.
“You know, you really should take it as a compliment that I’ve got drunk and I’m making fun of the way you talk.”
She allows her precisely plucked brows to dance over her face in surprise, though quickly schools her features into a plain mask.
“Alright, what’s up?”
“Nothing, Liz. I’m fine.” you say adamantly, and take another swig from your drink, savouring the tang on your tongue. Your glass makes another thud when you slam it down with unplanned and unnecessary force.
“You see, your mouth says that, but your… mouth is telling me something else?”
Before you can help it, your fingers are clutching the edge of the table, your cheeks heating softly, “I haven’t kissed you yet, how can that be?”
A chill slithers down your skin as her eyes grow wide, her pale skin blanching a shade further. “I didn’t mean, um, what? I—” she breaks off with a cough. “I ju— just meant that, um, you’re… sulking.”
“Oh.”
You can’t ignore the way your stomach plummets into the core of the earth, embarrassment taking over every other rational thought within your mind and body. Your soul is already brittle, but this? Your pride has certainly taken a knock enough for you to down the rest of your whiskey in one gulp.
“I’m gonna take off,” you say at last, across the curious blanket of silence, ignoring the way her angular face—limned with hope—falls a fraction.
“Please stay.”
You don’t think you hear her correctly, if at all. For all you know, her words could just be a whisper in the blustering breeze beating outside, the storm you predicted arriving early. In the dim bar, you’re away from it all, sage, until the bartender gets off shift and snatches Liz away for yet another night.
“Beg pardon?”
“Please stay,” she repeats, louder this time, but her blue eyes don’t meet yours across the table. “Tell me what’s up.”
She’s not backing down, so you brace yourself, allowing brazenness to fill you with courage, allowing your alcohol to eddie around you, summoning the words at long last.
“Nothing…” you say at first, because really, it is nothing, but she cocks her head at you that authoritative way. God, she should be a teacher with her assertive glances. “Just that you‘re so gorgeous I can’t say anything to your face…” you snatch her cup across the table, and take a deep swallow before shrugging and casting your gaze outside to spare yourself the mortification of being rejected. “Sober at least.”
You’re met with a beat of silence, “Why?”
“Look at your face!” you shout, utterly exasperated. You’ve got a good mind to pull a compact mirror to remind her how drop-dead stunning she is. “I’m so furious at you for making me feel this way.”
“Why, baby? What way?” she croons.
Too caught up in your momentary lapse of judgement and rant, you fail to notice her edging closer to you, moving your glasses out the way, letting her forearms rest on the sticky table just so she can watch the way you lick your lips with nerves.
“Crazy, because you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts.”
“R—really?” she stammers.
You turn back to her, all thoughts evaporating with her ocean blue eyes looking in yours, driving you insane. Her pretty lips are all parted and awaiting, how much you want to kiss her… So instead, you pout, and begin to throw a strop in your tipsy state.
“Tell me more.”
“No.”
“C’mon,” she teases, a smirk toying at her mouth, giving her cheeks subtle dimples. “Don’t leave me hanging. “Tell me what you really think. How I make you feel. I wanna hear,” her voice drops to a purr, leaning over the table to husk in your ear, “every little thing.”
“Ok then,” you concede. “You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much.”
“I don’t see how,” she snorts, “but continue.”
Her attention never once fails you or turns away, enamoured with your every mere breath.
“You’re gorgeous. Your magnetic field is too strong for me to cope. Your energy draws me in. You’re all I want.”
“More.” she coaxes, a single word, but a whisper, and yet it stokes the embers of desire in the pit of your stomach, your forehead creasing to attempt to draw some concentration back from the depths of your mind where your fantasies about her saying that exact word in that exact breathy way linger.
Perhaps your adulation is excessive, but you don't miss the sparkle in her eyes at each compliment you dole. This is your final card, though, and you’re going to play it right, so you forget about the consequences of touching her hand in a darkness room, and simply intertwine your fingers, drawing your noses to meet over the table.
“You've ruined my life, by not being mine,” you profess, ensuring that your hot breath fans over her lips. You can feel her shudder. “And you know there’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have.”
“I’m all yours if you’ll have me.”
And just like that, the world stops turning around you. Your heart lilts, your mind prattles on about all you want to say, all you want to do. But then it stops. And all of a sudden, you’re intrepid, desperate to ravish her and ruin her for all other women, eager to kiss her voraciously until you can scarcely breathe, yearning to feel her words of reassurance wrap around you, if only she agrees to your proposal over that of the hot bartender.
“Well, I’ve told you what's up, so I guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats. Alone... unless you wanna come along.”
You push away from the table and stand with a slight shrug, turning your back on her, making strides for the door and the storm bristling outside. Only, you barely make it to the door before Liz’s slender hand is wrapped around your arm, and is turning you back to her, tugging you closer, chest to chest, nose to nose.
“Fuck yes, księżniczka. After that, of course I’m coming.”
Your lips meet in a fiery kiss, a desperate battle of will, and her tongue slides over the seam of your lips. You grant her entry with an open mouth, heat skittering over your skin as she holds you tighter, closer, with a deeper urgency you don’t hesitate to match.
Her crystal eyes simmer as she withdraws, her forehead on yours. Her lips brush yours as she breathes, and she grabs your hand, heading out into the night with Liz, at long last.
“For the record, you’re gorgeous and perfect and drive me crazy too. Everything you said tonight, I echo. What can I say?”
You’re gorgeous.
#elizabeth debicki#elizabeth debicki x reader#elizabeth debicki imagine#jed roper#jed night manager#elizabeth debicki tom hiddleston#liz debicki#elizabeth debicki fic#elizabeth debicki smut#elizabeth debicki fluff#elizabeth debicki angst#wlw fluff#Spotify
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If I-LAND (ot9) did a Vlive completely in English :
Okay so lowkey the most CHAOTIC Vlive ever streamed on Vlive lmao
They got to do it as a mission, whoever speaks Korean in the Vlive gets hit on the head with “that" hammer (y'all know what I mean)
Sunoo didn't even realize they were live until Sunghoon told him
Everyone then tries their best to fit in the frame not that chaotically but
IT wAs cHaOtIC
“jAy hYunG uhhhh sTaRteU plEaSeu" - Jungwon babie trying his best
“Huh? Me?" *in Korean* Jayfused
Sunghoon hits Jay with the hammer
Jay shouted “Ahh mowy- I meant why me?!?"
*Gets hit again by hoonie* poor Jay
*SUNOO SHOOKETH*
Everyone be laughing their ass off
“Okayyyyyyy, should I start the individual introduction hyung?" Daniel offers
*Everyone starts to copy him*
But Jungwon hits Daniel with the hammer “yOu sAiD hYuNg"
K hits Jungwon with the hammer. “You said Hyung too hehe"
“But wait- like you said that too!" Jake said, laughing
*JUNGWON EVIL MODE ACTIVATED*
K get hit
This dumbassery continues lmao
“Let's introduce ourselves individually, Daniel can st-" Jay gets cut off by everyone Fanboying over his English
“yOu'Re eNgLisH iS sO gOoD" Sunoo be fanboying the most hehe
“Who am I? It's me Daniel. Hi guys I'm Daniel"
*INSERT MORE FANBOYING SOUNDS*
“HeLlo mY nAmE iS KIM sUnoO"
*CHEERING SOUND INTENSIFIES*
“Uhhh hello, my name is Lee Heesung-
“Your English is good Heesung" Jake compliments
Sunghoon awkwardly laughs and gives that “You're not sleeping with me tonight" look to Jake lol
“I'm Niki" *in tiny*
“Jungwon you're next"
“hEllo mY nAmE iS-
“Hi everyone, name is Sunghoon"
*Jungwon OFFENDED*
*points the hammer at Sunghoon*
“YaNg jUngWoN"
“Hello, I'm K. The oldest"
*Jay fell in love at that moment lmao*
“I'm Jake, your Aussie boy"
*FanBoyInG inTenSifIes*
Meanwhile Jake cringing hard in his introduction
“Hi guys, my name is Jay. Thank you so much for all the support and love that you all gave given us"
“OuR tOdAy'S taSkeu"
“Oh yes, so today we'll be basically just talking in English, like just replying to your guy's questions" Jake explained
*AhHhhhHhhHhH intensifies*
“Hahaha, someone asked Heesung will you marry me" Daniel be laughing like there's no tomorrow, same goes for everyone except Heesung
“MOVING ON" Jay shouts, the boys still teasing Heesung
“Cat or dog? Someone asked" K said, showing Jay the tablet.
“Too hard" Daniel pouted
*Niki be ready to attack any cat that comes lmao Iove him sm*
“Who is secretly the cutest?"
“JAYYYYYYYY" Jungwon being loud
“No, I'm not cute" Jay complains
“hE iS vEwY biG liAr" Sunoo smiles
“To be honest, I think Sunghoon" Jake said making Sunghoon maLfuNctioN
“Which trainee would you switch lives with for a day?"
“K, because he's ta- Jake gets cut off
“Are you admitting your SMOL?" Jay laughed, followed by Daniel while the other's minds were still trying to translate it
Jay earned a hit from the hammer for that hehe
“I want to be Sunoo, do aegyo without cringing" K admitted.
*Proud Sunoo mode activated*
“Jay, he's so cool and like his confidence is just WOW" Daniel said, Jay be smiling in the back
Jayniel uwu
“Sunghoon, I want to be-"
“He means he wants to be handsome, NEXT"
“Sunoo you're my sunshine, I love you"
“I LobE yOu tOo" Sunoo throws finger hearts then, smiling
“Sunghoon be my boyfriend for 5 seconds"
*LAUGHTER INTENSIFIES*
Sunghoon be like “1, 2, 3, 4, 5 okay bye"
“Jungwon why are you so handsome?"
“I dOn'T KNoW soWwy"
*More LAUGHTER*
“Niki aishite imasu" (it means I love you in Japanese for y'all who don't know)
*Flustered Niki activated*
They keep answering questions for like 4 hours straight lmao
“It's been four hours since we started this Vlive" Jake said making everyone go
⊙︿⊙
“Time passed quickly, well I'll see you once I debut so bye. I love you bluejays" then he just walks out of the frame Luke nothing happened (we STAN)
“JaKeu pLeasE eNdeU"
“Okay guys, we'll see you once we debut. We hope that you'll support us forev-" *Niki yawns*
Jake be like “CAN YOU NOT!?!?
“As I was saying, we hope that you'll support us and love us forever until we die. It's time to end this live now, byeee"
Then everyone runs out of the frame chaotically leaving Heesung alone.
Heesung then realized he has the only half braincell among the others (TRUE)
#iland scenarios#i land imagines#iland#i land#i land mnet#k#heesung#jay#park jongseong#jake shim#Jake iland#park sunghoon#iland sunghoon#Kim Sunoo#iland sunoo#yang jungwon#jungwon iland#kim daniel#daniel iland
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5 times Catelyn didn’t think of Brandon Stark (5)
Everyone thinks she is with Ned because of Brandon but they are wrong. Fifth one is Brandon himself.
Chapter 5: Threir first baby is born. Brandon is a bit of an ass but she wont let that take aware her happiness. Again you don’t necessarily need to read the other chapters first.
When the next contraction hit it hurt more than anything she had ever experienced in her entire life.
"Push" Doctor Luwin yelled while she screamed her lungs out.
"You're doing great, my love." her stupidly calm husband tried to encourage her. It was immensely infuriating that he was this composed while her body was ripping apart.
"Shut up!!! You know what? You can push the next one out! Because I am not doing this agaaaiin! This is all your fault! You are never touching me again after this." she yelled at him.
"Breath Catelyn. You need the oxygen." the doctor tried to instruct her.
"Oh you shut your mouth too. I'm pushing a melon out of my vagina while ten people are watching me. I get to yell as much as I want." she now went on to scream at Luwin even though he probably didn't deserve it.
"Do you want me to leave?" Ned asked her with a guilty look on his face.
"Of course not! Don't you dare leave me while I'm giving birth to your huge baby!" she cried out and frantically tried to reach for him. Luckily she found his hands very quickly. She couldn't remember when she had let them go in the first place.
After the contraction was over she got more frightened than angry. How could he think it was a smart idea to leave her alone right now? No human had ever had such an idiotic thought as this one. He wanted to leave her now! Why would he do that?
"Please Ned, please don't leave me alone. I'm sorry. Please stay with me. Don't leave. It hurts and I can't do this without you." she cried out and tears of pain and exhaustion were running down her face.
Ned leaned over her and pressed his lips to her forehead and pushed her wet hair out of her face, "Don't worry, my love. I won't leave you, ever. Not unless you tell me too. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to do anything without you. You are so strong."
"You make me strong!" she whispered right before the next contraction hit again and she had to scream again.
She screamed so loud, she was surprised she couldn't hear glass breaking around her. She squeezed Ned's hands so hard, she was surprised that all his bones were still intact. She pushed so hard, she was surprised she didn't push her guts out alongside her baby. Everything she did, she did with all the strength she could muster up. She was certain she would soon run out of energy and the will to go on.
She wondered how it was possible for her vagina to stretch open to the amount that was needed for a whole human to fit through there because it felt like it was going to rip apart from the inside. It must have been an hour or so before she got a little break to catch her breath again.
"Catelyn, you're doing an amazing job. It's going really well. The baby starts crowning now. Try to slow down your desire to push and maybe gently try to pant." Luwin ordered her.
"What?" she asked through gritted teeth. "How does that make any sense? I want this to be over, not slow it down!"
"Trying to slow down the birth will give your skin time to stretch. It could prevent tearing." One of the midwife's chimed in. Catelyn likely would have snapped at her as well if she wouldn't be distracted by the word tearing. Whoever said births were magical or a miracle had been a lying liar. Giving birth hurt, there were body fluids everywhere and she had had strangers hands on and in her vagina examining her for the last 15 hours.
She needed Ned and searched for his eyes: "I don't think I can do this. It hurts too much. I can't. Please Ned, I can't."
Ned's hands left hers and for a moment she wanted to panic but thankfully his hands were cupping her face a second later.
"Yes you can." He told her: "There is no one as strong as you. No one could bring our child into this world as fantastic as you are doing right now. I believe in you."
"Catelyn it's time to push again." the doctor interrupted Ned.
And she did. Maybe a few minutes, maybe a few hours later she was finally done. She had delivered their baby.
Their baby was here. The baby they had been waiting for, for seven months ever since they found she was pregnant was here. She still couldn't wrap her head around it. After hours of pain, pushing and screaming she got to hold her baby in her arms. He was perfect in every way possible. She couldn't imagine that there ever was a child as beautiful as her baby. She was remotely aware of the fact that someone was pushing down on her stomach probably to get the placenta out but she was too distracted by her son.
Sprawled over her chest he looked tiny. It seemed impossible that this small human being had kicked her from the inside hard enough to be visible on the outside. Neds large hand came into her view carefully stroking over the little patches of red hair on their baby's head. She was sure her husband could hold their child in one hand. It had always amazed her of how much gentleness his hands were capable of despite their roughness. And it had never been as apparent as it was right now.
"He is perfect, Cat" Ned whispered, his voice full of awe. There was no reason for more words. No words could ever describe the feelings both parents felt but they both felt it.
______________________________________________________________________
A few hours later the baby had had his first checkup, had been fed for the first time, both Cat and her baby had been cleaned up and Ned and she had decided on the name Robb.
Now the proud newly made parents were sitting on the hospital bed taking turns holding their baby. It was almost addicting and she was certain that she would never be able to get enough of it.
An hour before Ned had called their family and 5 min before had just received a text message that they had arrived. Her father had been there for the first few hours of her hospital stay but they sent him home and told everyone else not to come till the baby was actually there. There had been no reason for any of them to wait over half a day in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room.
A soft knock was at the door. The nurse that had helped her with nursing Robb for the first time stuck her head through the door, "Your family is here Mrs Stark. Would you like to see them?"
"Yes, let them in please." Cat smiled at her. She was pretty sure she hadn't stopped smiling since the pain of giving birth had passed.
The door opened wide and their family walked in. Immediately the room was full with their fathers, their siblings and her uncle. Everyone marveled at their son and got to hold him. Lyanna declared that their choice in a name was terrible and Brandon looked like he was agreeing but everyone else politely ignored her.
Her father expressed delite in the fact that Robb shared their Tully traits of red hair and blue eyes. For a moment Cat was afraid that Rickard or Ned were disappointed that Robb shared so little of their Stark look but Rickard had just smiled at Hosters words. Ned had outright declared that his son was very lucky that he looked just like his beautiful mother. Her brother had rolled his eyes at it but it filled Cat with waves of happiness.
They all stayed until Cat started to yawn, exhausted from the long days she had. Robb was already asleep in his crib next to her bed. After that people left one by one until only Rickard and Brandon were still in the room. Richard took Ned by his arm and pulled him out of the room into the hospital corridor.
Brandon looked down and at the crib, "My brother is right you know? This child is lucky to have your looks and not his sombre face. This way he is way more pleasant to look at."
She frowned, "Don't be like that Brandon. Robb would be just as lucky if he had his fathers face. It is a good face. I should know, I married that face."
Brandon laughed with an ugly smile that was more of a grin on his lips he said, "And you're still happy with that kitty Cat? No regrets? Didn’t wish you were still with me instead of the replacment you found? Didn't think about me or my babies while being pregnant? I'm just saying our kids wouldn't have to worry about inheriting an ugly face."
"How dare you Brandon! How dare you say something like this? Get out! Get out now. For your information I didn't waste one single thought on you the whole 9 months or any months before that. And I don't want to see you here anymore if you insult my husband and my future babies." She told him in a dangerously low tone. She didn't want Ned or his father to hear her but she would not tolerate anyone insulting her husband and ruining any part of their happiness. Not today, not ever.
Brandon left the room after this and went home with his father. Normally she still got on well with Brandon. He had an easy going personality and he was funny but everytime he was reminded of the fact that his little brother ended up with his ex fiance he became an ass and made Ned into the butt of his cruel jokes. It always made her blood boil instantly but she didn't intend to think about it anymore today. Not when there were so many things to be grateful for today.
Fortunately Ned returned to her pretty much the second Brandon went out of the room. She asked what his father had wanted from him and her husband told her his father had just wanted to let him know that he is very proud of Ned. She didn't quite manage to keep the smirk of her face and her eyebrows in place but it was just very like the Starks to keep their feelings and emotional outbursts as private as possible.
Ned climbed into bed with her so he could hold her in his arms. There was no place safer than Ned's arms. The feeling of his chest at her back and his beard on her neck made her float into a deep sleep. A well needed sleep.
No Brandon occupied her mind, only Ned.
#my 5+1 Nedlyn fic#baby Robb Stak#babies#game of thrones#asoiaf#catelyn stark#catelyn tully#ned stark#maester luwin#ned x catelyn#nedlyn#ned x cat#brandon stark#modern au#ao3 fanfic
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cas and balthazar meet again post finale
This one really got away from me, and it got really long. I promise it does answer the prompt but I also made it super plotty for some reason. I hope you don’t mind!
Being taken by the Empty didn’t feel like dying.
Of course, that’s what was happening to him, but it didn’t feel like that. It felt cold, and painful, and vengeful. Lonely and miserable and laced with glittering knives of regret.
It was his damnation. Not the traditional sense of the word, but true nonetheless.
But if facing it meant he’d save his family? Save Jack from being subject to the same fate? He’d damn himself to this a thousand times over, without a single shred of hesitation.
The Empty had him entirely covered in its goo, tendrils snaking under his skin and into his body from every angle. In through the eyes, the nose, snaking down his throat. Under the fingernails, into the ears, scraping through the tattered remnants of his grace and pressing down around his true form.
It was agony.
Eventually it subsided, and some of the inky tendrils retracted, leaving him gasping for air that neither existed in this realm nor was truly necessary. He collapsed in a heap, the Empty bubbling around him. He spared a glance up, wondering if the Shadow were nearby to gloat before sending them both into slumber. What he saw… well. Unexpected didn’t quite cover it.
“Jack?”
“Hmm. Guess again, Castiel.”
“No.” Don’t you dare look like him.
“Oh, yes. Because it hurts you to look at him, doesn’t it?” The Shadow leaned down, condescension clear as day in its every move. So wrong on Jack’s face that it twisted something deep within him. It stared him down, watching him squirm, mania-painted smirk stretching wider. “Good. I want you to suffer, so that’s what you’re going to do.”
“I thought you wanted your peace and quiet,” Cas managed, as more tendrils snaked out over his wrists and ankles. Dragging him a little bit further down, completely at the Empty’s mercy. Somehow he suspected that was the point.
The Shadow straightened, looking down Jack’s nose at him.
“Of course I do,” It said, emulating Jack’s earnestness. Liar. “But I can’t!”
“What?”
“Wonderboy-” the Shadow gesticulated wildly in the direction of its facsimile body “-woke everybody up when he exploded all over me. So I don’t get to sleep, no, and if I don’t get to sleep then you definitely don’t get to sleep. None at all.”
Quicker than a blink, the Shadow had fisted Castiel’s collar in its hands, bringing their faces inches apart.
“At least,” It whispered, eyes wild with an energy Jack had never, and would never, possess. “I get to make you suffer like you’ve made me suffer. So I want you to look at this face, Castiel. Look at it, and know that it’s contorted in tears right now because Papa Bear abandoned him.”
The Shadow threw him down, the goo swallowing him right back up. Submerged in the dark, he scarcely felt its weight. He was too busy drowning in a fresh cascade of guilt.
It yanked him back up, tendrils leaving him suspended in the middle of nothing. Some of them twisted at his feathers, pulling them just enough to be excruciating but not enough to rip them free. He screamed.
“Be quiet!” The Empty released him, and Cas fell back down, every fibre of his being crying out in pain.
The Shadow cackled, everything about it from the pitch to the cadence to the intention screaming wrong, wrong, wrong.
“You’re never going to regret this, are you?”
Cas glared at it, mustering up as much defiance as he could.
“No,” he croaked. “Because saving my family? That’s worth dying a thousand deaths.”
The Shadow doubled over laughing again. Then, quick as a blink, kicked him across the face, sending him reeling backwards.
“‘Die a thousand deaths’? Please. You’re pathetic, you know that?”
Castiel pushed himself back up, following the Shadow’s pacing with his eyes. It walked with one arm tucked behind its back, the other gesticulating as it spoke.
“Death isn’t going to be enough for you, hmm. Oh, you know what you’ve never been able to take?” It spun back around, grinning down at him. “You can’t stand seeing the pain you’ve caused. And since you can’t see what’s left of your precious little family- not that they even care that you died, by the way- how would you feel about seeing the angels again?”
No. He must have looked visibly afraid, because the Shadow only smiled wider.
“Not so pleasant a thought, hmm? Seeing as you killed most of them.” It laughed again, clapping its hands in an expression of glee that would have been endearing coming from Jack, but now simply served to be disturbing. “Oh, yes. It’ll be just like throwing a scrap of meat to a pack of starving dogs.”
Cas shook his head, but the Empty pressed on. It waved its hand, and Castiel was thrown some immeasurable distance away. He pushed himself to a sitting position, and watched in horror as the ground bubbled around him, and his brothers and sisters began to crawl their way out.
He recognized them, of course, because he’d taken care to never forget a single name. He saw Hael first, then Bartholomew, then Jonah and Efram and Ambriel and Samandriel. He saw Raphael, Uriel, Anna, Jophiel. He scrambled to his feet, unable to do anything but watch and wait for their wrath to undoubtedly descend upon him.
Someone grabbed him from behind and pulled, running and dragging Castiel with them. He didn’t fight it, figuring that whoever had him was going to inflict a world of pain and there wasn’t a thing to do but accept it. They’d gone a fair distance, if there was such a thing as distance in nothing, before they stopped and Cas turned to face who had taken him.
“Balthazar?” His voice came out strangled, as scarcely more than a whisper.
“Cas,” Balthazar said, staring at him with something unreadable in his eyes. “Your wings…”
“Balthazar,” Cas repeated, finding himself unable to say anything else, mind swirling in an inescapable vortex of grief and guilt and pain. “I’m sorry, my friend. I’m so sorry.”
“What, for killing me? You weren’t yourself.”
“I was. That’s the problem.”
Balthazar just shook his head. “It’s going to take more than a stab in the back to get rid of me. You do know that, right?”
“If we weren’t already dead I’d offer you my blade to kill me. I deserve nothing more.”
“Castiel.” Cas forced himself to meet Balthazar’s eyes directly. “I know you, and so I forgive you. As I’ve told you before- nothing’s changed.”
Cas smiled bitterly. “Except me.”
“What happened to you?” Balthazar’s fingers traced the air where Castiel’s wings lay mangled and twisted in another dimension. “You look like you’ve been clawed apart by feral house cats.”
“I destroyed everything, Balthazar. So many times.” And he felt like he was being crushed under the weight of all his mistakes. Perhaps this was the torture the Empty preferred for him- giving him back a lost friend, giving him forgiveness- and then ripping it away again. Surely even someone as loyal as Balthazar wouldn’t want to associate with him after learning of the things he’d done.
“You, Cassie? I’ve only ever known you to do what’s right.”
“How can you say that when you saw me make one of my biggest mistakes? When I killed you because of it?”
Balthazar scoffed. “Mistake? Cas, you were trying to stop our control freak of an older brother from letting the other ones out to destroy the world. What about that is a mistake? Sure, Crowley was a bit of a snake, but come on. It can’t have been so long that you’ve forgotten your good intentions.”
Cas didn’t say a word, and Balthazar narrowed his eyes. “How long has it been, Cas?”
Cas sighed. “Nine years.”
“Nine years.” Balthazar’s eyebrows had shot all the way up. “Wow. Not long at all. So what could… no. Tell me you weren’t.”
Castiel frowned. “Weren’t what?”
“Weren’t still kissing the Winchesters’ asses for the whole nine years.”
“They’re my friends, Balthazar.”
“Oh, really?” Balthazar crossed his arms. “If they’re your friends, why did they treat you like one of the guns they keep in the trunk of their wretched car?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it, Cas?” Balthazar sighed, backing down a little. Nine years of death wouldn’t stop them from bickering, it seemed, though he did put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. An uncharacteristic attempt to show solidarity through the sarcasm.
“Look,” Balthazar continued. “What you do is your business, but… just tell me there was something good in those years. That it wasn’t just you running around trying to prove yourself to them.”
There was something, in fact, something he’d never expected. Something beautiful.
“I had a son,” he admitted. He’d often wondered what Jack would be like meeting angels that weren’t hell-bent on killing him. He’d imagined Jack meeting Balthazar, or Hannah, or Rachel or Samandriel, but it would never come to fruition. The best he would get was telling them about him, assuming he would be able to escape being choked and stretched and drowned by the depths of the Empty for all eternity.
“Why, Cassie, I’m impressed,” Balthazar said wryly. Oh no. Before Cas could interject and explain, Balthazar continued. “Looks like you really did get that stick out of your ass. And you put it right up-”
“Balthazar! He’s not mine, not like that. He chose me, and his mother was a friend. That’s all.”
Balthazar seemed to enjoy how flustered he was, but his tone was serious. “You adopted a human child?”
“No, he’s a nephilim.”
“Ah,” Balthazar said. “So they changed the rules regarding them in the past nine years, then?”
“No,” Cas said again, getting frustrated. He’d forgotten how much Balthazar loved to hear himself speak. Even if he had missed it, it was still mildly insufferable.
“Well, you rebel Cas, you. But, ah- who was the sire?”
Cas winced. “Lucifer.”
“Oh, my. That is unfortunate.”
“Yeah. Jack’s nothing like him, though. He’s… he’s very much like his mother. And I like to think he’s a little bit like me, too.”
Balthazar looked at him, somehow still reading him like a book after all this time.
“You spoil the poor child, don’t you?”
“I most certainly do not,” Cas huffed.
“Oh, yes you do. You’ve always been soft, but now you’re practically a down pillow.”
Cas’ smile was sadder, again. “I told you I’ve changed.”
“Maybe so. But we haven’t.”
“Thank you.”
Balthazar smiled. “I do have one question though, Cas.”
“Of course.”
“How did you die?”
Well. He supposed it would have had to be asked eventually. Unfortunately his hesitation gave Balthazar another opportunity to talk over him.
“Please don’t tell me it was for the Winchesters.”
“I love them.”
Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. And unfortunately I love that about you. Well, go on. Tell me a story.”
Cas shrugged. “I made a deal with the Empty. My life for Jack’s, which- it wasn’t even a question. It said that when I was finally happy, it would take me.”
Balthazar frowned. “What did you in?”
“You know, I’m not really sure. But I managed to save Dean, and that’s all that matters.”
“Oh, Cas,” Balthazar muttered, sounding deeply sad. “Well, at least you were clearly a better father than our dear old absent God. That much is clear.”
Cas’ heart sank. He couldn’t not tell him, though he didn’t necessarily want to break the news.
“Balthazar.”
“What?”
“Um. A lot has happened since I’ve last seen you, and there’s a lot you need to know, but God- God was never on our side.”
--------
They walked aimlessly through the Empty, keeping aware for signs of their siblings or the Shadow, but oddly finding none.
“Well then,” Balthazar said, flippant as ever. Cas was nearly sure he was deflecting.
“That’s all you have to say? You’re not angry?”
“Nope.” Forced cheerfulness. “Never liked him anyway. Frankly, I’m surprised you even met the man.”
Cas paused and stopped moving, feeling something tugging at his grace.
“Cas, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Balthazar had stopped too, hovering closer.
A pocket of the nothingness in front of them seemed to pull itself inward, caving in like a black hole and then cracking open just a bit. Was this what it looked like when someone died and came to the Empty?
Hopefully not, because the distortion cleared and Jack was standing there. And it was painfully, obviously Jack, clearly indicated by everything from his posture to the grace Cas could feel reaching for his own.
Balthazar stiffened, preparing for a fight, but the minute Jack caught sight of Castiel the angel found himself with an armful of nephilim. He held on tight, feeling Jack trembling slightly.
Having connected the dots, Balthazar caught his eye over Jack’s shoulder and mouthed “down pillow.” Cas shook his head slightly, but turned his attention back to his son.
“Jack? Are you-”
“I’m getting you out, Cas,” Jack said, pulling back. “We’re both getting out of here.”
Balthazar’s stricken expression tugged at Cas’ heart.
“Just me?” Cas asked.
Jack’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“The other angels are awake, Jack. Can you…”
“I… maybe. But, Cas, I don’t… I don’t know them. Why…”
“It’s alright if you can’t,” Cas assured. “But if we can help them somehow, be that bringing them back or putting them to sleep… I need to try to make things right.”
Jack nodded. “I’ll try to help.”
Cas smiled at him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Thank you. And thank you for coming to get me.”
“Of course. I missed you,” Jack said, eyes wide. Cas felt something else inside him twisting.
Balthazar cleared his throat, and Cas gently turned Jack around to face the third member of their party.
“Jack, this is Balthazar. He’s a good friend.”
Jack and Balthazar looked at each other, Jack frowning and Balthazar smirking in a horribly misguided attempt to be friendly. The silence stretched on, utterly deafening. Jack broke it first.
“I… I met an alternate universe version of you that was not very nice.”
Balthazar didn’t miss a beat.
“Well, you know what they say. Don’t judge an angel by their alternate universe counterparts, right?”
That got a bit of a smile out of Jack, though he was still wary. Cas couldn’t blame him, so he kept in contact to keep him at ease.
“We need to find the Shadow. Make an arrangement so that we can take a few angels with us and the Empty goes back to peace and quiet,” Jack said. The self-assuredness was clearly a front, but somehow Cas felt as if he’d have time to help Jack through it.
“Okay,” he said, nodding at Jack. Jack nodded back, and the three of them started walking. Into what, they didn’t know.
But Castiel had the strangest feeling that it was all going to turn out alright.
#castiel#balthazar#spn#asks#prompts#napsterofficial#winchester critical#<bc of balthazar lmao#other prompts I am getting to y’all soon I promise!!#kitkat writes
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[🌴] - Tag Game
tagging: @melonmochimoon @mairahcore @dreamyycore @bigbrainenergytingz @soleilsuhh @madeofsaltiness @earth-to-that-asian @fairyjunn @purplepsycho03 @mochiable @trippy-dejun and whoever wants to give it a go!
what day is your birthday? 07/26/00
what’s your favorite color? I love green! My fav color to wear tho is burgundy.
what’s your lucky number? 12
do you have any pets? Yes, I have 2 cats and 1 dog that I love dearly. ☺️❤️
how many pair of shoes you own? Ermm I think 8, but I feel like I only wear 3 pairs of shoes lol.
favorite song? industry baby by lil nas x ft jack harlow & tiger inside by super m.
favorite movie? Hairspray, I’ll never get tired of musicals honestly. 😭✨
what would be your ideal partner? choi san, lee jeno and park chanyeol. Honestly just someone who has goals in life, a passionate lover and who’s committed to me and ONLY ME 100%.
do you want kids? Yess, I’m reaching to 3 or 4🥺
have you gotten in trouble with the law? The worst I got was a car accident so if that counts then yes. 🤦🏾♀️
bath or shower? Shower all the way.
how many pillows do you sleep with? Lmaoo 6 and they still somehow fall off the bed.
what you don’t like when your sleeping? When the tv is not on or when my dog is making too much noise.
what do you have for breakfast? normally a granola bar and a cup of grapes or yogurt. If I get fancy, I normally do waffles, bacon and scrambled eggs.
have you ever tried archery? No, but that would be cool.
favorite fruit? blueberries!
favorite swear word? shit or bitch. Especially singing it, idk it’s a good stress relief.
do you have any scars? I still have a lot of dark spots pretty much everywhere from when I fell numerous times at recess as a kid and I have stretch marks on my thighs, belly and arms.
Are you a good liar? No and don’t dare to do it anymore cause my parents wasn’t haven’t it.
what’s your personality? INFJ
innie or outie? innie
right or left handed? Always use my righty.
favorite food? chicken alfredo, but honestly any kind of pasta.
favorite foreign food? I love Indian food and the dish I always eat is saag paneer or chicken curry!
are you clean or messy? Both tbh, but at least my room is clean for now.
most used phrase? bruh, you what? or really?
how long does it take for you to get ready? On a regular hang out day I would say 2 hours, on a fancy day I would say a good 3. Like it’s expensive to be a women, a black one at that. Also I didn’t care at that you know what they say…being fashionably late.
do you talk to yourself? I call it thinking out loud, but yeah lol. 😬
do you sing to yourself? Yes and I even make up my own goofy songs when I have road rage or when I’m doing laundry.
are you a good singer? I’d say I’m decent…, but if y’all heard my voice before I’d let y’all be the judge of that. 😉
are you a gossip? Not gonna lie I like being nosey and sometimes ppl just trust me to tell me their drama, but I never go off telling other ppl. I would say I’m nosey more than a gossip.
do you like long or short hair? Long hair takes too much maintenance so short.
favorite school subject? Anything Science. Bill Nye the science guyyyy.
extrovert or introvert? I’m shy so introvert.
what makes you nervous? Doing presentations, making phone calls and meeting new people. Like ugh the anxiety.
who was your first real crush? this cutie that was in my 8th grade class. All I remember was dancing with him to don’t stop believing and everyone was cheering us on that we were the best couple.
how many piercings do you have? Zero.
how fast can you run? Pretty fast, but not enough to join the Olympics.
what color is your hair? Dark brown, but sometimes it turns a lighter brown in the daylight.
what color are your eyes? The same case with my hair, dark brown.
what makes you angry? A lot of things, when people are disrespectful to the people I love. Racists, homophobics, sexist people, and don’t get me started on fake people Omgahddd I be wanting to call them out on their shit so bad. Ignorant people to top it off people that have no knowledge on a specific topic and they have the nerve to speak on it like just be quiet.
do you like your own name? Yess my grandma came up with up so I’ll always cherish it.
do you want a boy or a girl as a child? Honestly I want both, but if I can have like 2 girls and 1 boy that would be even better. Whatever god will bless me with I’ll be the best damn mother them kids would ever have.
what are your strengths? My creativity for sure, my passion and ambition that helps me reach my goals. Fast learner, reliable, loyal, supportive and the ability to speak my mind more.
what are my weaknesses? I have a hard time controlling my emotions that’s my biggest one. Another one is my lack of patience for certain things especially if it’s something I want. Lastly, sometimes I be too lazy, but I can’t help it I be overworking my self to the point i go over the limit.
what’s the color of your bedspread? A lot of shades of purple, green and pink going on.
color of your room? green and purple
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The First Stages Of Learning How To Love
❥ Drarry
For the last month, Harrry had been fidgeting with a strange toy that George had given Ron in exchange for his help in the Weasleys Wizards Wheezes. It was a small, shiny object, but since no one knew what it did, Harry got to keep it. It seemed to help Harry with his nervousness- but, how could the boy who lived be nervous? After facing deathly experiences so many times?
Well, the thing is; it was another kind of nervousness.
It was the wave of shame that hit Harry when he noticed his crush staring back at him, or the tension when they are sitting really close and their thighs touch with each other. When someone says something funny and that person laughs big and loudly, and the poor unfortunate soul that's in love with them can't help but wish that smile was for them and only them. Yes, that kind of nervousness.
And the damn butterflies came again when he spotted him entering the Great Hall.
Fuck Draco Malfoy and his perfect hair, beautiful features and elegant moves.
“Harry?” Hermione called his attention, it seemed like she had been speaking for the last few minutes but the boy wasn’t paying attention to her, “What’s on your mind?”
Harry opened his mouth to say something but he got cut off when Ron sat next to him, big dark circles under his eyes.
“I hate Potions. I hate Potions so much that if I could go back in time to kill whoever invented the subject- I would, no doubts.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow, “Well, that’s what you get after you were mean to Crookshanks last night, no help coming from me.”
Harry giggled a little, looking at his two friends. Not even a war could change who they were as people.
“It’s a cat, Hermione.”
“Well, he’s certainly smarter than you sometimes.”
Ron snorted, but still smiled a little after doing it, “Thank you for that, girlfriend.”
Hermione blushed, ignoring the now amused Ronald Weasley that was watching her expression with too much interest, “You were going to say something, Harry. What was it?”
“Nothing important.”
“Well, it has to be,,” she spoke in her most reprimanding tone possible, “Since I was talking to you about this assignment we have to do in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it’s very important.”
“For the start of the year, they are really pushing us, huh?” Harry rolled his eyes, “What is it about?”
“Weren’t you paying attention to the last class?”
Harry tried to remember. The only thing he retained for that class was how close Malfoy was sitting to him and that he smelled really good, like lemons and something fresh.
“Not really.”
“And why is that?”
“Harry’s got a little crush,” claimed Ginny, who appeared out of nowhere, claiming her place next to Hermione, “It’s pretty evident.”
Harry tensed and suddenly his two best friends were staring at him with suggestive looks, waiting for an answer. He couldn’t give it to them as if it were nothing- and he couldn't lie, because he was a pretty shit liar. After spending his whole life trying to save the whole wizarding world and never thinking about what he wanted, being head over heels with someone was a strange feeling.
“Well, hello to you too, Ginny,” he spoke, trying to redirect the attention, “I didn’t know you were having breakfast with us today.”
The girl rolled her eyes and hit playfullyt one of Harry’s arms, a smirk appearing on her lips, “Oh, c’mon, do not play the fool. I can read you like an open book.”
Harry felt himself blushing, but he couldn’t deny that Ginny was in fact, saying the truth. After all, they'd known each other for so long that she often could read him better than he could read himself. Though their relationship hadn't worked out, they were still close friends. Soon after they broke up, Ginny discovered she had a crush on Luna Lovegood and time later, Harry noticed his attraction to Draco Malfoy. Ginny’s situation was a little bit easier considering she wasn’t enemies with Luna before all the stuff that happened. People wouldn’t be too shocked to see them together or if the Ravenclaw reciprocated her feelings.
“So you know who is Harry’s crush, Ginny?” Asked Ron, one of his hands on his chest, “I thought we were your best friends, Harry. And you told my sister first?”
Harry had wanted to slam his head against the table ever since the topic had arrived in the conversation, “I don’t have a crush,” he assured them, “And if I did I wouldn’t tell Ginny.”
The girl stuck out her tongue in a mocking gesture, “Oh, but you do have a crush.”
Hermione (who had been looking at Harry since he started to act more and more nervous) hit the table gently, drawing the attention to her, “Harry, if you do, you don’t have to tell us who it is...” she laughed softly, “but remember you are a terrible liar.”
After she spoke, the table fell silent. Harry just wished that the earth could swallow him so he could escape the conversation, but just standing up and leaving the Great Hall when it was at its fullest looked too suspicious, and the last thing he wanted was for people to stare at him.
“Fine,” he mumbled, “I do have a crush on someone, happy?”
Ginny nodded furiously with the brightest grin on her face, while Hermione and Ron just seemed surprised- of course, they were acting. They were trying to make their friend feel more comfortable, but it was crystal clear they believed it before Harry said it was the truth.
Harry glanced at the blond boy that was sitting alone at what used to be the Slytherin table (because now everyone could sit wherever they wanted) and thanked every spiritual being he could think of that he wasn’t looking at their table. If he did, Harry would die right there without having time to react.
“So… any clues on the lucky person?”
“Ginny,” Ron scolded her, “don’t make Harry more uncomfortable.”
“I just think he deserves to be happy after so much shit,” she excused herself, ignoring the look Ron gave her for swearing. "I'm sorry, Harry." An apologetic smile decorated her freckled face.
Harry accepted the apologies, nodding, “Don’t worry. Just… don’t make a big deal out of this. It's not like I actually have a chance, anyway.”
Ron looked confused, “But you are Harry Potter! You are practically a legend! who wouldn’t like to be with you?”
“The war ended. I’m just… Harry. I don’t have anything special besides this dumb scar.”
Hermione took her special edition of The Ministry of Magic: A guide and smacked Harry on the head with it, making a soft thump sound. He was about to complain when she shut him off with her finger.
“Harry, you’re a lot more than that. You’re amazing at Quidditch! you’re also very good at defensive spells. You’re creative, brave and a good leader.”
“Yeah,” agreed Ron, “you’re also an extremely caring friend and fun company to be around, I always have fun when I’m with you.”
“And in case you're feeling insecure,” Ginny was the last to say something, “You’re a very good boyfriend. Very pleasant kisses.”
“Ginny!”
“What? Sometimes people are insecure about their kissing skills.”
Harry chuckled to hide the fact he was becoming as red as a tomato, “Thank you,” he scratched his neck, “I guess.”
“Is that enough for you to feel like you have a chance?”
Harry felt his stomach twist into knots again, but rather than some mere butterflies, they felt more like an elephant stampede, “Maybe.”
“Good.”
───────────────────────────────────────
Two weeks later, Harry was still mulling over the conversation he'd had with his friends. They did have some good points- he wasn't that bad. And really, everything could happen. He didn't expect Ron and Hermione to be together, but they were. He also didn't expect for Ginny to get in a relationship with Luna in the two weeks that had passed, but she did.
Maybe… he just had to wait for the right opportunity to take.
It seemed like destiny was totally in his favour (or against him, it depends) when he collided with the person that was owning his thoughts. The one and only, Draco Malfoy.
“Be more careful next time, Potter,” he said, but his voice wasn't as harsh as Harry expected it to be- it actually sounded kind of gentle “also, your wand fell.”
Harry quickly put himself back together and muttered a low Thanks while picking up his wand. Draco was still standing there, watching him.
Was he waiting for something? thought Harry, Maybe this the chance I have been expecting all this time.
“Malfoy?”
Draco arched an eyebrow, “Potter?”
“Would you like to study with me for the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam?”
The question that flew on the air caught Draco with his guards down. He tilted his head a little as if he was asking if that was a joke or if Harry was being serious. A long, awkward silence elapsed, and Harry was just about to apologize and run for the bathrooms to hide when Draco answered.
“That would be… nice,” Draco answered, still sounding unsure, “but why me?”
“Why...not?” Responded Harry, confused.
Draco laughed, his head going back with it. It was the first time Harry had seen him laugh since the war, and he loved it so much he wanted to push him against the wall and steal his air in the most desperate kiss ever.
“You're really funny without noticing, Potter.” Draco said while viewing outside the castle, “What do you think about working outside?”
───────────────────────────────────────
Since that day, Harry could say he and Draco were...friends, to say something. They started sitting right next to each other in all the classes they had in common, sometimes escaping the Great Hall to eat outside or going to the library to read those huge books the professors gave them. Needless to say, most of the teachers were glad that the boys had a beautiful relationship compared to how they used to treat each other before.
The most fun thing to do with Draco was to sit under the big tree that grew in front of the Black Lake, working on their homework and then talking about whatever they were thinking.
Sometimes Draco would rant about how funny was the fact that the only spell Harry always used was Expelliarmus, and Harry would laugh about the fact that Draco used to come to school in a suit (that he looked very good in but Harry wasn’t going to say that out loud. At least, not yet).
“Seriously, Potter, why did we hate each other so much when we were younger?”
Harry smiled at him, and for one second he was sure he saw Draco's face getting subtly red.
“I don’t know. You were kind of annoying. I was also annoying.”
Draco nodded, “True, but you had the right to be. You were new to the wizarding world and everyone was expecting you to be the greatest wizard in the whole universe. That’s a lot of pressure.”
Harry kept the silence for a minute, admiring the views that Hogwarts offered. It felt like home, this school was his home- and he had to leave it after this year. Everyone felt nostalgic after spending most of your time in a place and then leaving it, but there was so much more to it. Harry lived his most life-changing experiences there, he met the people that filled his heart.
He met Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Remus, Professor McGonagall…
He met Draco, the boy that was sitting next to him whose hair was shining down the sunlight.
“Yeah. I guess it was,” he agreed with a whisper, “But you didn’t have it easy either.”
Draco looked down stiff but hummed from Harry to continue what he was saying.
“I hope you don’t… blame yourself for everything that happened, Draco. Because I don’t blame you. You were a child, you just were trying to do what was best for your family and your pride. And I did the same.”
When Harry realized he said Draco's name, he coughed to hide his sudden embarrassment. It came to him as something natural to say, but he didn’t know if Draco felt the same sensation.
Draco took a rock that was nearby and threw it into the lake, watching it disappear into the distance, “Thank you… Harry,” Harry grinned when hearing his name, and he was sure that now the blond boy was blushing hard because of the intimate moment they were having.
Could it mean something?
“Any more words of wisdom coming from you, Harry?”
Harry accommodated himself better, moving a little bit closer to Draco. He didn’t try to move away, instead, he leaned a bit on Harry. Their shoulders were touching and their hands were dancing near each other, doubtful and nervous.
“Can I...?”
Draco nodded and that was enough for Harry to grab his hand, intertwining their fingers slowly. Draco squeezed softly as a response and they felt the wonderful emotion of knowing that something greater was about to come. They had found that place where they felt comfortable, where they felt like they fitted for the first time in so many years.
It felt natural.
“I...I do have more words of wisdom.” Harry broke the silence, screaming internally because he was holding hands with Draco Malfoy.
“Care enough to share them?”
“Somebody once told me that we've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on.”
“Sounds like someone really wise told you these words.”
“Yes, it was someone very wise.”
Draco smiled and rested his head on Harry's shoulder, the cold breeze coming from the lake made them shiver, but it didn't matter because both of them were genuinely happy after so much suffering. After so many sacrifices, being in love or enjoying someone’s company was a silly thought.
But silliness couldn’t feel better.
“This is nice.”
“It is…” Harry commented, his impulsive and nervous personality gaining against his composure, “I’m sorry if my hand sweats.”
Draco giggled and Harry knew that he would embarrass himself a hundred times just to hear that laugh.
───────────────────────────────────────
They continued holding hands as they studied in the library or relaxed on the school grounds, far away from the prying eyes of others. Harry knew that he should know that it meant something, but Harry was too oblivious for that. He was too oblivious to know that after a whole week of meeting every day and holding hands, Draco might be expecting something more.
But was he?
Clearly, they had something going on, but it didn’t have a name. Harry knew from the first day that he wanted to leave everything in the past and start again his story with the Malfoy, but was Draco on the same page? sometimes he would lay down next to Harry and laugh at funny clouds, or even play with Harry’s hair when he was falling asleep after a difficult match of Quidditch. All the signals could be read as something evident- but were they ready to take another step...?
“Harry!” Hermione called him, running to keep up his pace, “Merlin, you’re fast. Where are you going?”
Ah, yes. Harry hadn’t talked about the crush thing with his friends since the first breakfast in the Great Hall. He was sure Ginny had seen him walking with Draco one or two times, but Ron and Hermione just received the I have things to do explanation and Harry would then leave. After one week or two, it was okay, but a whole month had almost passed and they didn’t have any idea of what Harry was doing in his free time. They respected his privacy, but it was becoming weird not to see him that much as they were used to.
“I’m going to the Black Lake… why?”
“Oh, great! I’m going too, I miss spending time with you.”
Harry stopped walking, his hands shyly gestured to Hermione to stop too, she did, a confused expression standing out on her face.
“Hermione… I would prefer to go alone, okay?”
“...Are you mad at me and Ron? Because I promise you we won’t fight that much if you come back and spend time with us. We are worried about you.”
Of all the things Harry expected to hear, that was the last one he thought of. Mad at his friends? He could see Hermione was troubled about the whole thing since she was acting uneasy and insecure, the total opposite of her whole persona.
“What? No, I’m not mad at you or Ron.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Now…” he pulled her aside, “It’s… I should have told you before, I’m sorry.”
“What's going on, Harry?”
He breathed, trying to come up with a summary of everything that had happened, “Remember the conversation about my crush that we had like a month ago? well, I’m… making some progress with that person, okay? we have been meeting these days and It’s going really well.”
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione left her books on the ground to jump a little and hug her friend, scaring him a little bit on the process, “I’m sorry for making assumptions. And I’m really proud you’re chasing what you want!...but Ginny told us she has seen you with Malfoy a lot.”
….
“Oh.”
Harry was about to turn back and run to the Black Lake when Hermione grabbed his wrist, narrowed eyes scanning Harry, “Your crush is…. Malfoy?”
“Yes…..?” Answered Harry, not knowing if Hermione’s expression was good or bad, “I’m sorry if that bothers you, ’Mione.”
“It’s… surprising. And I'm sure is going to take Ron by surprise too when he finds out. But people can change, and if he makes you feel happy. I’m all about it.”
“You sound like a mother.”
“Go to your date before I hex you,” she elbowed him playfully, “and tell….Draco, that I’m sorry for punching him a few years ago. But he deserved it.”
“Yeah, he did,” Harry laughed, but nodded anyway, “I’ll tell him.”
───────────────────────────────────────
When Harry finally reached the spot where Draco was supposed to be waiting for him, he was caught by surprise when Draco wasn't there. Instead, some students were laughing under the tree, throwing rocks at the Lake.
Where could have Draco gone?
“Hey, Potter,” one of the guys called him, and Harry rolled his eyes because he knew he was one of the main assholes in his same year, “We were waiting for you.”
“For me?” Harry looked around, noticing that everything felt a little bit...fishy, “Why?”
“Oh, well,” one of the girls crossed her arms, “Rumor has it you have been spending a lot of time with Draco Malfoy.”
“...What?”
“We have seen you.”
Certainly, Harry didn't expect them to know. He and Draco had tried everything to be subtle, just because they knew not everyone would be happy about them getting along better. But why did these people care?
“Okay… And why is that any of your business?” Harry hissed, his right hand searching for his wand.
“I thought after saving the whole Wizarding World you'll be smarter, Potter. He's a Death-Eater, remember?”
“I remember. But he isn't one anymore.”
“Once a Death-Eater always a Death-Eater,” Harry could swear he saw a strange mark sticking out the guy's arm, “Did you forget that?”
“People can change.”
“Yeah, I guess they can. But didn't that asshole try to kill you?”
Harry snapped, “Don't call him that!”
All of the group laughed, taunting their pockets for their wands. Harry didn't want to fight anymore after the war, but they were surely testing him.
“Let's do this the…. muggle way, shall we? You were raised by them, maybe it's more comfortable for you.”
And before Harry could distract them and run, the biggest guy in the group pounced on him, knocking them both to the ground. Harry was trying to get up, but the guy was twice his size. He didn't waste any time, smashing his fist into Harry's face. Despite the trickle of blood running from his nose, he was grateful that his glasses had fallen off his face, unbroken.
The rest of the group stopped cheering when a voice a few meters again shouted: “Stupefy!”
Harry managed to see Draco's silhouette casting the spell before the guy on top of him flew and fell unconscious next to him, his friends staring at his motionless body with surprise. Draco was getting closer, and with each step he took the students acted more and more anxious, deciding at the end to run in different directions to escape from the cold gaze the boy was giving them.
“Are you okay… Harry?”
Harry let out a small nod and got up carefully, observing how his shirt was getting stained by the blood that was dripping from his face, “I have to say, this is not the first time someone broke my nose, but yes, I'm okay.”
Draco released the air he was holding and arched an eyebrow to the guy laying on the ground, falling on his back probably hurt, but he didn't care to be honest, “What an asshole.”
“Couldn't agree more, but I would rather not have him in here,” Harry complained softly about the pain of his broken nose, but before healing himself he pointed his wand at the guy's chest, “Rennervate!”
The guy woke up disoriented and unstable, falling to his knees when he tried to get up. His eyes followed Harry's face and then Draco's, both of them watching him with unreadable expressions, but definitely not friendly ones.
And of course, when the guy noticed his friends had left him alone, he ran to the castle so fast that someone could have thought something was chasing him.
Draco aimed his wand at the running student, but Harry stopped him by grabbing his wrist, denying softly “It's fine.”
“It's not fine,” he mumbled, “he left you looking like a mess.”
Harry laughed but instantly winced at the pain, leaning on the tree behind him to search for support, “I'm going to break a record if my nose gets broken one more time.”
“You are stupid.”
Draco began to walk closer to Harry, but stopped himself midways, “Can I...?”
Harry looked at him confused, “Can you what...?”
“Touch you,” Draco chuckled, and when Harry flushed, he added, "to heal you, dumbass."
“Oh, I mean… if you want, yes.”
And then Dracos free hand was grabbing Harry's face by his cheek, his other wand pointing at his nose, “Episkey,” the blood stopped dripping.
“Thank you… for all of that, you know, saving me from these idiots.”
“You were ready to fight back,” whispered Draco, not moving his hand even though he had finished healing the green-eyed boy, “But you didn't, why?”
“I guess I was a little bit distracted when they attacked.”
“But that doesn't make sense,” Draco was expecting answers, but Harry didn't seem to be paying much attention to the conversation- if the way he was looking at Draco's lips was any indication.”
“Draco… Can I kiss you?”
When the question came off from Harry's lips Draco let out a little yep and almost jumped back in surprise, releasing the grip he had on his wand, “What...?”
Harry was already regretting his words after seeing the opposite reaction, so he quickly shook his head while moving his hands awkwardly, “I'm sorry! I don't know why I said that. Just forget it, okay? maybe I should go and get something from the kitchens-”
Draco gripped Harry's wrist and asked a new question, this time sounding more confused rather than surprised, “Did you mean to say that?”
“Er… Yes? I have wanted to kiss you since the first day ” Harry clarified to Draco's shock, “And every time you get close to me I get nervous and I know is dumb because we were becoming very good friends but is something that was really fucking me up and-”
Draco grabbed Harry's shirt collar and pulled him into a kiss.
If Harry thought he had any idea about kissing- all of them were destroyed when Draco kissed him. It was such an overwhelming feeling that he hummed into their mouths, grasping Draco's shoulders. As they deepened the kiss, Harry felt how his eyes were becoming watery at the sensation of the cold hands holding him caressing his face.
He was happy.
After what it was a very magical moment they both cut the kiss, breathing heavily.
“Should I have asked before doing that?
“Just do it next time if you don’t want me to die from a heart attack.”
“Oh, so there will be a next time, Potter?”
“Shut up and kiss me, Malfoy.”
───────────────────────────────────────
#drarry#harrypotter#draco malfoy#draco-fuckingmalfoy#harry potter fanfic#harry potter headcanon#gay#headcanon
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