#I worked hard to make my room the coziest place and they always took over >:[ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dourpeep · 3 years

Note

IT WAS 2AM WHEN I SENT THAT SO I HELD BACK MY SIMPING FOR COLLEGE ALBEDO A LITTLE. tried not to send all my brainrot so I didn't just send a wall of text into your inbox LOL. Some others I thought of were:

- Mona giving astrology forecasts and compatibility readings in this au and Albedo may have asked her about the two of you

- Going to botanical gardens or museums with Albedo but for some reason it feels like a date even when it didn't intent to be. You tug on his sleeve now and then when you see something he might be interested in or even when it's something that excites you, and Albedo can't help but have a soft look in his eyes that he can share this moment with you! Somehow it results in the two of you holding hands - just so neither of you stray from each other of course - and eventually, intertwined fingers. You hear someone say that the two of you seem like a cute couple and you know Albedo heard it too, but neither of you say anything. You feel his hand squeeze yours a little tighter and respond in kind. The two of you are too embarrassed to look at each other but can't help the smiles on your faces.

- Lending Albedo some of your favourite books for pleasure reading and you've left tiny tabs on lines that you like. Perhaps this is before Albedo realizes his feelings so when he reads particularly romantic lines, he wonders if this is how he feels about you. Or did you mark these pages because you feel this way about someone? His stomach is in knots to the thought that you may be intrested in someone that isn't him and he settles for it just being prose.

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS SO CUTE AAA. THANK YOU FOR SIMPING FOR COLLEGE BEDO WITH ME!!

Tugging his hand and not letting go omg . . . you tend to just intertwine pinkies or play with his fingers absent-mindedly that Albedo becomes so accustomed to it so he starts to offer you his hands without a second thought.

WAIT. I gasped at Albedo being a cuddler. He's a little delirious when he first wakes up but you're so comfy that he hugs you a little tighter, asking if you've slept well. You try to reply while worrying about whether or not he can feel your heart thrumming in your chest.

What if Klee is staying with Albedo one night and the three of you fall asleep cuddled up together. Alice comes back early in the morning before any of you are awake and takes a picture. She sends it to Albedo later and he sets it as his phone's wallpaper.

Albedo staring at your lips winded me, thank you.

YES TO THE SWEATERS. I bet Albedo would have the softest and coziest sweaters too! Imagine it being a little cold out and you see Albedo across campus so you bound over to him and give him a hug. You nuzzle into him and mumble out a little 'hello' and say he's warm. You feel his laugh rumble through his chest while he greets you back, wrapping his arms around you

And I LOVE ALL YOUR HEADCANONS! I believe I found your blog around the time you posted Albedo's snort headcanon and it was too much for my heart!! I held tight to that headcanon and never let go lol. I also thought the science + college headcanons you had of him were really nice despite not being necessarily romantic!

Side note: I looked up that lobster fact and that's so cool!!

The Lobster Fact(tm) is my go-to ice breaker and it always fails. I'd imagine it's normally the same w/ Bedo OTL so sad...not many wish to know about potential lobster immortality.

I'm glad that you love the headcanons though!! I enjoy writing for Albedo so so much as you can tell ehe

That being said--if it makes you more comfy to send stuff in a few bursts of asks, I don't mind :DD I'll answer them as usual nodnod

OKIE DOKIE

"...Mona, yes?"

"Ah, I was expecting you to come around sooner or later, Kreideprinz."

Really, Albedo didn't mean to stumble upon the Astronomy major, but for some reason the thought of you has been on his mind and the campus' observatory just so happened to be on the way. With the meager hope that...maybe he'd find some sort of answer (in what, he wasn't really sure himself), there she was.

Luckily, she knew just what he was there for.

The moment that she twirls her hand with a wave, telling him that there isn't anything to worry about, the apprehension creeping within his chest at the thought of seeing you next-

disappeared.

It's not often that he turns to less orthodox methods, but he wouldn't lie. Knowing that--at least in Mona's opinion (which tended to be correct, anyway)--the two of you were undoubtly compatible? Something about how your constellations were intertwined...

In fact, Albedo turns a little theory around in his mind. Though based in old folktales, the idea that you gravitate towards those who are made of the very same stardust as yourself, suddenly made sense.

Or, perhaps he was just being hopeful.

Little does he know that you most definitely asked Mona about the same thing earlier that day.

AHHHHH BUT OF COURSE-

Any of those kinds of places--Botanical Gardens, Art Museums, Aquariums, Zoos, Museums in general--Any place where you're able to utterly lose yourself in your surroundings and look around in awe, really, are your go-to date outing destination!

Usually, it's just the two of you, maybe with Sucrose or Timaeus if it's for a particular class, as well as the occasional Klee in tow whenever Alice is busy with work.

But in this case, fingers interlocked, it's just the two of you on a impromptu trip to the art museum downtown after seeing a promotional banner about a new exhibit. Once inside, you rush along, Albedo trailing close behind with a light squeeze of your hand. The large area used for temporary exhibits isn't far from the entrance, so it's not long until you skid to a stop.

All along the walls are incredibly detailed oil paintings, the thin layered strokes glistening in the light. Albedo takes a moment to whisper to you about how oil paint works.

Due to the thinness of the paint and it's transparency, light passes through every carefully placed stroke, allowing for a unique sort of depth that isn't achievable with other painting media. You smile, the artificial light of the art exhibit making your features glow and Albedo can't help but wonder if you are like those paintings.

So complex, so carefully created in an image perfected with time. Your eyes search his and you say his name and Albedo clears his throat when he realizes he's been staring.

"Do you like this one?"

Ah, you must've assumed he took a liking to this particular painting.

His eyes shift back to it, taking in the sight of the balance of color, the composition, then back to you. He only stares a second longer before nodding.

Whether or not you realize the view he likes is you is something that he dwells on as you both make your way to the next painting.

If you had a penny for every time that someone comments on the way you compliment each other, you'd probably be able to pay off your tuition for next semester.

Okay, perhaps not, but the idea still stands.

You're only just at the end of the art exhibit when the security guard wishes the two of you a lovely date. Something about how young love is something to be treasured, something about how the two of you already seem so natural and comfortable in each other's presence.

Before you can mumble out an explanation, Albedo just squeezes your hand, gentle as always, and smiles.

It's a compliment, right? For someone to see how close you are, even if you really are just friends, is a good thing.

Ignoring the warmth that spreads over your cheeks, you smile and turn your head away shyly. Squeezing his hand back, the thought of what it'd be like if you were together crosses your mind.

Just as you lend books to him, he lends books to you. Surprisingly, this time it just so happens to be a poetry book--something that you expressed interest in a week ago but ended up not getting.

Within, he's left colorful notes with his neat, slanted writing.

Short discussions (presumably questions to himself) of what the poet must've been thinking, different possible scenarios, are peppered throughout the book. But one just so happens to catch your eye. Rather than a question, it's a statement. Simple, short, and...sweet.

'You carry the aura of the stars.'

The little yellow sticky note pasted beneath a love poem to the night sky stands out. Suppressing a flutter in your chest, you continue reading through the poem book with a few giggles at Albedo's musings until you find a note with most of the words crossed out.

It's entirely unlike him, the way that the dark ink scribbled over the words, making them illegible.

But at the bottom was a continued attempt--one you presume he was satisfied with by the way it lay pristine on the colorful paper.

'You look. I fail to speak.

Your mind, so brilliant as it is I wish to see behind To further appreciate the one I love.

I can only hope one day you shall let me in, So for now I wait patiently by your side.'

Who could he have written this for? You can't help but stare at the poetic attempt, knowing full well that Albedo seldom does something without meaning.

The book closes and you tuck it back on the shelf to ask about later.

AAAAA YESYESYESYES I LOVE THAT CUDDLE PILE W/ ALBEDO AND KLEE

Even though Albedo's a grade A student and certified genius (he's adamant in his denial, shaking his head and mumbling about how he just studies hard), he's not entirely a stickler for rules.

Well, that is, Aunt Alice's suggestion that Klee goes to bed by 9.

Instead, the three of you settle in the common room of Albedo's place in a bundle of pillows and blankets at the demands of a pillow fort.

The tv blinks on accompanied by the near silent click of the remote.

"What should we watch?"

Klee always ends up picking the movie. This time, she wants Alice in Wonderland, commenting on how the bunny is like her best friend Dodoco and the blonde girl on screen is named after mommy. Albedo doesn't bother correcting her, even though he knows quite well that dear, sweet Dodoco is a chinchilla.

Between sips of juice and a few mouthfuls of popcorn, the three of you fall asleep, Klee curled up besides you and Albedo's arm draped over you both.

Even when the sun is up in the sky, you sleep peacefully.

So, naturally, Aunt Alice has a spare key just in case something like this happens.

Immediately she's met with the sweetest view--her two kids (she's practically adopted Albedo as her own at this point) and--

Hiding a cheeky smile behind her hand, Alice can't help but sneak a little closer when she spies the way that you and Albedo somehow gravitated closer, his face buried in your hair and yours resting against his collar. Wedged between you with tousled hair, Klee snoozes peacefully.

She snaps a picture, followed by another, and another, and a fourth for good measures before meandering into the kitchen to prep something for breakfast.

Might as well let her three favorite people enjoy the comfort of sleep for a little longer...

You wake up the moment that Klee wiggles her way out of the blankets, nuzzling against the warmth radiating under your cheek.

Nice and cozy. Smells nice...wait.

Eyes fluttering open, you're met with a familiar birthmark and the nearly gone scent of Albedo's cologne.

You nearly pull away until the arm, now wrapped around your waist, pulls you closer accompanied by a satisfied sigh. Ah. You shut your eyes tight when you realize that Albedo's going to be asleep for at least another thirty minutes, resigning to your fate gladly.

Of course, Alice takes the opportunity to snap a few more pictures when you've finally fallen back asleep.

YES ALSO ALSO

Speaking of Albedo and sweaters and warm and also the just mentioned cologne. A little fun tidbit--not only are you familiar with the scent of his cologne because he wears it often, but it (in this au) is actually one that you picked out some time back. You probably were at the store together smelling some of the perfumes when you came across one that you were pleasantly surprised by.

Specifically, something that's lightly floral, a little warm but sweet with a hint of earthiness.

The pros? It fits Albedo perfectly! It also kinda sticks well and his place faintly smells of it.

The cons?? Well...you're embarrassed to say that hugging Albedo tends to drag on a little longer than anticipated because it's just such a comforting scent-

Not because you associate it with Albedo or anything-

Ehe

Man I really went to town again, didn't I?? Well, I'm glad that you enjoy my headcanons :DDD Albedo just seems like such a sweet person??? Like endearing in a way that just is...him. If that makes sense.

Brain go brrrrrr

I'll admit that my favorite headcanons for Bedo are mundane and domestic ones though! Like these! Just the little moments where there's nothing really going on except for him and you and ahhhh yesyesyes

Okay that's all-

#anon asks #albedo #albedo headcanons #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fics #genshin impact drabbles #modern au #college au #modern au albedo

233 notes · View notes

noayuusukki · 3 years

Text

The Little Things - Headcannons

Hello, Bloops~

So, someone liked a headcannon of mine and since I’ve been into Haikyuu again recently, I thought I would write some for them~ Sorry if your fav. boi isn’t on here- I can only do so much before I get burnt out

Also, I didn’t start going by Yu because of Nishinoya- though I do love him.

If you want more of these, with different boys, then let me know- and let me know which boys~ I would also like to write for haikyuu again, so request some if you like this

Update; there’s now a pt.2

TW; fluff, all boys are aged up

I hope you enjoy! and if you want to be tagged in my writings, let me know~

[Sawamura Daichi, Tsukishima Kei, Nishinoya Yuu, Azumane Asahi, Aone Takanobu, Iwazumi Hajime]

Sawamura Daichi

he would always offer to carry your stuff, it doesn’t matter if its simply your bag or a stack of papers, he would always offer.

in crowded places, he would hold your hand like you were going to disappear if he didn’t hold on to you hand tightly, and even after you get away from the area he would still hold your hand until you were both in the safe place of either your shared home or your either of your own homes.

if you both lived separately, the morning after he stayed over, he would make you tea or coffee- or pour you a cup of water if you don’t like either- he wouldn’t really let you lift a finger until an hour or so after you wake up

if you had a bad day, he would grab the coziest blanket and wrap both of you in it, cuddling you until you either have to use the bathroom or until you both get too hungry.

even though I see Daichi being a dog person, seeing him with a cat would probably melt your heart. so instead of getting a dog together- because frankly daichi doesn’t necessarily want to deal with something so energetic for awhile- you adopt an older cat instead.

that cat as also ran away from the fours idiots whenever they visit- especially Tanaka, but they love Kiyoko.

Tsukishima Kei

this little shit, he wouldn’t want to actively show any form of pda but he would most definitely wake up before you. and if he had to leave first, he would try his absolute hardest to be like a mouse to not wake you up. he doesn’t want to disturb your sleep- especially if you both are still in college.

on little random outings, if you walk by a small accessory store and stare at something a little to long- this observant shit while tease you about it, but will go back the next day and buy the thing you were looking at. and if it’s gone then he would get something that reminded him of you.

but he would 100 percent dismiss it if you asked about it.

if it was a somewhat hard day, whether it be work or school, Tsukki would stop by the bakery he took you on your first date and grab your favorite dessert or drink.

y’all would probably argue a bit due to his sarcastic nature and blunt remarks, but he would always apologize- in his own way.

he would leave you alone for at most 3 hours, during this time he wouldn’t do much actually- he would be making hot chocolate, even if it’s summer, put on your favorite movie- even if he hated it- and basically make a little nest for the two of you.

the next time you see him, he would be waiting on the couch like a puppy, a fuzzy blanket around his broad shoulders as he just stared at the door of the room you were in. blush would be on his cheeks and would murmur ‘im sorry’ before opening the blanket inviting you in.

Nishinoya Yuu

because he’s so optimistic and energetic, he might get to be too much at times. and this man, once being Karasuno’s libero, would notice when he starts to be a bit much and would tone it down.

because this man is so love struck, he would do anything for you if you asked him.

so if you ask him to simply get a carton of milk before coming home- he would do it the instant you asked him. you’ve had to explain that he can’t just run off like that multiple times- but it’s cute.

if he still has his little dyed piece, he would definitely ask you to match, and if you say yes then you both would sit down once a month and apply dye to each others front pieces.

if you have a hobby and Yuu sees something that possibly relates to it, he’ll instantly buy it and show you the minute he sees you like an actual puppy/dog seeing their own after a long day.

sometimes you would have to tell him that it had nothing to do with your hobby, he wouldn’t get sad but the look in his eyes said other wise so after a bit you just stopped telling him and now have a box of random things he’s gotten you.

Azumane Asahi

this giant scary looking teddy bear- because he’s so big, sometimes he’s scared he’s going to hurt you. so instead of holding hands, sometimes he would just hold your pinky with his as you walked along almost empty streets.

he would design some pieces with you in mind, thinking that you might like this or that this certain color would look nice on you- even if you don’t end up wearing them or knowing about the inspiration behind a certain piece.

he has a notebook of your fashion choices. like the style you choose to wear the most, the color you gravitate towards more, whether you wear more tight fit or loose fit clothes, things like that.

if he’s working late, he would ask you to braid his hair before you go to bed or go back to doing whatever you were doing before checking on him- and if you can’t braid then he would ask you to just tie his hair up and out of his face. just wanting to feel your hands in his hair.

Asahi would invite you along to all of his trips, whether they had a purpose or not, he doesn’t want to be without you- so even if he has to buy your ticket he would still ask you.

if you say no, he would have a visible pout but would understand, so please just try your hardest to go with him on a trip.

Aone Takanobu

because he’s so tall (193/6′4) he would also worry about hurting you a lot, but he would always hold your hand, or have you in front of him when you go out together- crowded streets or not.

he looks to be able to see you, he will always compliment you but not with words- he’s a man of few words after all.

he would peer down at you, and or stare into your eyes if your his height, and would grunt while looking at something on your person.

the first few times you would be confused, but slowly you would learn and understand what he was saying.

he would always ask before doing something that involved you and your person. if he wanted to touch you- he would ask, wants to hold your hand- he would ask, even if he wants to touch something that belongs to you- he. would. ask.

consent is sexy y’all.

after a long day of construction work, if you massage his big shoulders, during it he’ll take your hand- one of the only times he doesn’t ask- and will kiss it. tilting his head and looking up and into your eyes, giving you a soft smile as a thank you.

Iwazumi Hajime

he would make you lunch, probably having to take a nutrition class before becoming a trainer, just wanting to make sure your eating probably.

will let you massage his muscle at least once a week, even if he’s not the one doing the hard core workout regimens- he still works out and sometimes his body is sore. during this time you’ll ramble about whatever’s on your mind- he remembers almost all of them. (sometimes he forgets but that’s only because he’s tired and has fallen asleep while being massaged before)

if you visit him while he’s working with the national volleyball team, he’ll just have you attached to his hip. he does this without any real reason, he just likes having you next to him as he yells at the players he once played against- he loves doing this, gives him a lot of serotonin- but he always covers your ears before yelling so your ears won’t get hurt.

if, after a long day- especially with Hinata, Bokuto, and Atsumu- and he sees you in the kitchen and the smell of agedashi tofu in the air. a small smile will appear on his face before making his way towards you and back hugging you.

he’ll appreciate your efforts, even if you can’t cook- it’s the thought that counts.

he’ll love to cook with you, even if you only do prep- and if you can’t be trusted with a knife, your presence is enough for him- if you put a little flour on his cheek, he’ll put some on your nose before hugging you and rocking you both back and forth before kissing you.

those quiet moments are loved because he’s sometimes surrounded by hyper active idiots that’s only live to play volleyball- not like he hasn’t been around one since he was a child- but just you and him cuddling on the couch is heaven in times like those.

—————-

Tags: @killmewithafanfic

210 notes · View notes

saynotoshityouhate · 3 years

Text

For Science - Ch. 3

Read Chapter 1 here. Read Chapter 2 here.

Summary: You return to Bruce’s after your dinner date, and you still have an appetite.

Word Count: 1099

Tags/Warnings: size kink, thigh riding, hand job (male receiving)

A/N: There are not enough images of Professor Hulk and it makes me sad. Give this big green softy his own film, please?

Bruce pulled into the driveway of a small bungalow just outside of your small college town. Although it was dark, you could see a well manicured lawn decorated with delicate flowers in two beds on either side of a wrap around porch. Bruce had taken up gardening as a way to calm himself over the last year. He found it relaxing to (literally) ground himself in the work of growing beautiful things.

The passenger door opened and you were greeted by a large green hand. You smiled at the kind gesture, using his hand to lift yourself out of the car. You weren’t used to this high of a heel, having been home in your PJs for over a year - and you were navigating the world like a newborn giraffe.

Banner walked you up to the front door where you saw a specially made porch swing and more flower boxes. Walking inside, you saw the coziest home you’ve ever seen. Deep couches with plush cushions and soft blankets, candles and incense on every table, and walls adorned in photographs of Bruce and his Avenger colleagues on their many travels across the universe. You knew he had left that part of his life behind, but it was clear that those people held a very special place in his big heart. “Welcome to my home!” Banner chuckled, obviously a little nervous and unsure how to proceed. “Can I get you something to drink? Take a seat! Are you still hungry? I can get…” you interrupted his rambling thoughts. “Banner! I’m great. I’d love a drink. Whatever you’re having.” You plopped down onto one of the couches, kicking off your heels and pulling your feet beneath you. You felt at home.

Bruce returned from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine. He handed one to you before sitting down in a chair across the living room from you. You looked at him through knitted eyebrows. You had an entire couch next to you, and he chose to sit so far away. Taking a sip of your wine for courage, you stood up from the couch and padded over to Banner and hopping up onto his lap. “Oh - hi there.” Bruce was surprised by the move, hoping you couldn’t feel his cock twitch as you wiggled around to make yourself comfortable. You had always felt self conscious about your body, never really feeling comfortable about your size and shape. It took a man like Bruce to make you feel small - not that one way was better over the other - but taking up space was never something the world encouraged you to do.

You looked up at Bruce, one hand holding your wine and the other tracing lazy patterns on his chest. Bruce held you in place softly, his palm splayed across your lower back and waist. “You know, we really don’t have anything to be nervous about. We’ve pretty much done this before. Many times, actually.” You set your wine glass down before turning your body to face him, one leg straddled on either side of his muscular thigh. Your hands braced themselves on his chest as you rocked your hips forward, your buzzing clit rubbing itself against his quadriceps muscle perfectly. A soft sigh escaped your lips. “We should just, you know, go for it.” You rocked against his thigh again, looking up at Bruce for some sort of sign that you were on the same page. He didn’t know what to say, his jaw had dropped. Hearing that sigh escape your lips short circuited his brain.

Banner nodded his head, leaning his face to yours, enveloping your lips into a passionate kiss. You moved your hips once more, hitting that spot exactly, causing a moan to escape from deep within you. Bruce was suddenly painfully hard. Feeling the disturbance beneath you, you moved to unbutton and unzip his pants. Reaching inside to free his aching cock, your eyes got wide. You looked up at him in shock. Banner, being a child at heart, chuckled. “Items may be larger than they appear on screen, Y/N.” Reaching in after you, he enveloped your hand into his and together you lifted his length out of his pants. Bruce’s one hand remained on your waist, while the other covered yours, unable to fully grasp itself around the width. He wasn’t kidding when he said he had to be creative with his partners. Traditional methods may end in severe injury, or worse.

Banner took the hand fruitlessly grasping his cock and lifted it up to his lips, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your palm. You resumed grinding your increasingly wet pussy against Bruce’s thigh, whimpering at the delicious sensation. Bruce placed your enveloped hand back on his now leaking member, moving you both in slow, steady strokes. Banner groaned, head lolling back, gripping your waist tighter as if to also hold himself together. Regaining his composure, he began moving your hands more swiftly, the mixture of saliva and pre-cum lubricating the movements. “Bruce…” you whispered, your stomach tightening and breathing becoming erratic. “Go ahead, little one. You can do it.” With that, your orgasm crashed over you, toes curling, free hand grasping at Banner’s shirt as your body collapsed into his chest. Your face nuzzled against his collarbone as you came down, your other hand now working with Bruce’s in overdrive. In your daze, you looked up at Bruce, his face contorted in concentration, the hue of his skin darkening as he got closer to his release. Watching his face intently, your arm moving outside of your control, he looked down at you. Seeing your frame tucked neatly inside his, your wide eyes staring up at him and your skin aglow...it was enough to push him over the edge. Banner growled, his grip around your waist and around his cock tightened as he came. Bruce leaned his head back against the chair and took a few deep breaths.

“I think I ruined your pants.” You shifted your body to see the mess you had made. You gently massaged your other hand which was sore from the squeeze of Bruce’s much larger one.

“...and I ruined your dress. I’m sorry - is your hand alright? Are you okay?” You hopped down from his lap.

“Oh I’ll be fine, thank you. Which direction is the restroom?” Bruce pointed down the hall.

You began to walk away when you stopped to lift your dress over your head. You dropped it on the floor, and turning back to look over your shoulder you asked “You coming, big boy?”

#bruce banner x reader #hulk x reader #professor hulk x reader #bruce banner #hulk #the incredible hulk #professor hulk #mcu x reader

316 notes · View notes

flourgirl · 3 years

Text

Sleepyhead

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter will try just about anything to help out the very pretty insomniac from his math class.

Work Count: 11.2k

Warnings: Just some sweet, pure fluff with a few curse words every now and then.

A/N: Either the tags aren’t working for me or you guys just didn’t like it, but the final part of “Even If It’s a Lie” has been out for a few days now if anyone’s interested in reading it 🥺 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this super long piece I’ve been working on to help me get through finals <3

“Touch you softly I call you up late at night No doubt it isn't right But you could be my one and only” -Softly, Clairo

Peter had seen you around campus a few times, but it wasn’t until you started sitting two rows ahead of him in his linear algebra class that he really started to notice you.

He thought you were really pretty, and he liked how cozy you always looked in the puffy winter coat you kept on in the perpetually freezing lecture hall. You took a lot of notes, which told him that you cared about the class, and never showed up without a giant cup of iced coffee.

You’re being a creep, Peter told himself. He had thought about switching seats to somewhere in front of you, so he could actually listen to his professor discuss permutations instead of staring at how you chewed on the end of your pen when you were thinking.

It was even worse when you started sleeping in class, your soft hair falling around your shoulders as you leaned your head against your desk. It seemed like all the coffee in the world couldn’t keep you awake, and Peter wondered if he should ask if you wanted to borrow his notes or something. But that would mean him admitting to looking at you way more than he needed to, and that was weird, so he quickly dropped the idea.

Still, he was worried about you. So when he came back from patrol in the middle of the night and bumped into you outside of the dorm kitchen, he figured it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and maybe even find out why you were so tired all the time.

The only problem was that he had accidentally knocked your pan of banana bread out of your hands, and you were currently staring at it laying on the floor with your sleepy eyes, not saying anything.

“Shit, uh, I’m so sorry,” he told you, crouching down to scoop up the remnants of your late-night snack into the pan. “Were you really up baking at 3 a.m?”

You blushed a little, starstruck that the cute guy from your math class was talking to you. “Um, yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come down to the kitchen while nobody else was here and make something. Baking always helps me calm down, and so here I am. And here we are. And there’s my bread, all covered in whatever kind of dust the custodians refuse to sweep down here.”

He offered a soft smile, and it made you feel better about the fact that you were rambling way more than you wanted to.

“I’m Y/N,” you continued, gently taking the pan from his hands. “You’re in linear algebra with Professor Meyers, right?”

“Yeah, you, um, you sit right in front of me. Well, not right in front of me. Two rows in front of me. Shit. I’m not creepy, I promise. It’s just… uh… My name is Peter and I’m going to stop talking now.”

That couldn’t have possibly gone any worse, he thought. You were probably thinking he was a serial killer or something.

“It’s okay. I know you sit behind me,” you reassured him. “You answer a lot of questions.” He was cute and smart, and you hoped he couldn’t notice how flustered you were to be this close to him.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, which made you laugh at how ironic his concerns were, considering he was also wandering around the dorm basement at this hour.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, sitting on one of the benches that jutted out of the walls of the corridor. “I mean, you’re here too. At least I was baking. What’s up with you?”

You had a point. “I had an emergency… with my internship. I work for Stark Industries, and Mr. Stark rang me in the middle of the night to come to the lab immediately for something, so, yeah. That’s why I’m awake right now.”

“Okay,” you said, not buying his story. “So that’s why you have a black eye and you’re lurking in the basement hallway? Did Tony Stark punch you?”

Fuck. Did he really have a black eye and not notice? He didn’t think that Doc Oc’s stupid mechanical arm had punched him that hard, but apparently, he was wrong. And now he had to come up with some reason as to where it came from, although he could already tell that you were about to call his bluff.

The only solution he could think of was to change the subject. “Why are you always asleep during class?” he blurted out, causing you to give him a funny look before frowning down at your slippers.

“Isn’t it obvious,” you yawned, stretching your arms out in front of you. “I’m an insomniac. It’s actually kind of funny. I never really had any problems with falling asleep until I moved here. Maybe it’s the cold weather or the constant pressure to get good grades, but I just can’t sleep anymore. It sucks.”

Normally, you’d never tell this much about yourself to somebody, let alone a complete stranger. But somehow, you felt really comfortable around Peter. There was just something about him that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Peter caught himself staring at you again, your baby pink pajamas a far departure from how put together your usual outfits were. Even without your makeup or hair done, you were still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. For some reason, even the dark circles under your eyes were really cute to him.

“You never answered my question,” you reminded him, hoping that he’d say something to fill the awkward silence. “What’s with the black eye and wandering around in the middle of the night? Are you some kind of superhero?”

“What? No! That’s crazy. Me, a superhero,” he laughed awkwardly, wondering if you had somehow figured out his secret identity. Had you spotted him that one time he made sure that you and your friends got home safely from a late-night study session? Even so, you totally couldn’t have known it was him, right?

“Relax, I’m just joking,” you giggled, thinking about how cute he looked when he was flustered. “Although my friend did tell me she thought she saw Spider-Man a few weeks ago on her way back from a party.”

“Haha, yeah,” he breathed out, a wave of relief washing over him. It was times like these that he really started to appreciate how well-hidden his muscles were underneath all of his oversized sweaters.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, bringing your hand up to lightly brush his lip, which was bleeding. He flinched instinctively before settling under your touch, your eyes focused on the small cut. “I have a first aid kit in my room if you want some help cleaning it up.”

“Oh, no, it’s cool. I wouldn’t want to bother your roommate,” Peter told you, scooting further away on the bench, nearly falling off the edge of it. Ned hated it when he stumbled in at some ungodly hour after patrol and woke him up.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and gesturing for him to follow you. “I have a single.”

Peter looked at you in awe. Freshmen never got rooms to themselves, and yet somehow you had one. “Okay, fine. But only because I’ve never actually seen a single in this building before.”

“That’s cool with me,” you smiled, reaching for his hand so he could keep up with your pace. He noticed that you were chewing some of the banana bread, which he really hoped was from the part that didn’t fall on the floor. To be fair though, it did smell really good.

Not only did you have a single, but you lived on the first floor. Peter couldn’t believe how lucky you were, considering the building that the two of you lived in didn’t have any elevators to traverse its seven floors.

He was even more shocked when you opened your door, revealing the coziest dorm room he had ever seen. How on earth did you transform the glorified prison cell into something that felt so... comforting? From the twinkling lights that were wrapped around everything and the soft rug under his feet, Peter found it really hard to believe that you had trouble sleeping here.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you apologized, piling your many throw pillows and blankets into a basket to clear up some space on your bed. “You can sit here.”

If this was messy, then Peter and Ned’s room needed some serious help. “No worries,” he said, watching as you rummaged around your drawers in search of your first aid kit.

Eventually, you found it hidden under a bunch of graph paper and colored pencils, untouched ever since your overprotective grandparents had helped you move in. “Here we go,” you mused, now looking inside it for alcohol wipes and band-aids.

He winced as you rubbed the little cloth against his lips, and you made sure to be more gentle as you cleaned up the other cuts on his face. Thankfully, nothing was bad enough to require stitches, something you were seriously under-qualified to do.

All Peter could focus on the entire time was how close you were and what it would be like to just kiss you right then and there, but he knew that was way too forward of him. Plus, he didn’t even know if you liked him like that. Surely you were just being nice.

Still, the way he caught you staring into his brown eyes after smoothing a band-aid on his forehead made him think otherwise.

“You’re going to have to tell me eventually who beat you up,” you sighed, gathering up wrappers to throw away and tucking the first aid kit back into its place in your drawers.

“It’s a long story,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your stare.

“I’ve got time,” you replied, climbing onto your lofted bed to sit next to him, innocently brushing your bare leg against his jeans, which made his breath hitch. “Tell me about it.”

“Uh, how about another time?” he stammered, hopping off the bed and running his hand through his hair. “After class tomorrow, or something. It’s getting pretty late. We should, um, go to sleep.”

“You can stay here if you want,” you offered, his eyes widening at your invitation. “On the bean bag, I mean. It’s actually really comfortable. You mentioned something about bothering your roommate and I figured that maybe you’d like to avoid the trouble tonight.”

“Oh…” Peter hesitated, looking for a reason to say no. He knew he’d never be able to sleep knowing that you were in the same room as him. “I don’t have any pajamas.”

“True,” you agreed, a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in sticking around.

“I don’t actually even wear pajamas to sleep,” he continued, making you look back up at him instead of playing with the hem of your shirt. “It’s just… I sleep in my boxers.”

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you sighed, your face hot with embarrassment.

“It’s not that! I mean, I do want to stay here. But, uh, you… well, you make me really nervous, Y/N,” he muttered, his glance bouncing around the room.

“Why?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “Did I do something?”

“No, no! Nothing at all. I promise, okay?”

“Okay. You can, um, get ready for bed, I guess. I promise not to look,” you assured him, turning on your side to face the wall.

“Thanks. Yeah, alright.” You heard him fumbling with his clothes, his sneakers making a soft thud on your floor. You did your best to resist the urge to glance back at him.

“Can I just use any of these?” he asked, although you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Peter, I’m not looking, remember? You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“The blankets. Do I just pick one, or are you particular about them?”

“Oh. You can use whichever one you want to. But the coral one’s the softest and my personal favorite.” Peter stared at the basket in confusion. To him, they were all just pink. But based on touch alone, he pulled one out that he figured was a little more orange than the others.

He walked over to the light switch and flipped off the overhead fluorescents, letting the room be illuminated by the warm glow of your fairy lights, which weren’t too bright, but still twinkly and beautiful.

“Goodnight, Peter,” you whispered, snuggling into your comforter in the hopes that your heartbeat would slow down and let you fall asleep for once.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” In a matter of minutes, you could hear his soft snoring, and you figured that it would be okay just to take a quick peek since he’d probably be bundled up in one of your blankets.

His hair was perfectly messy, and he looked so cozy wrapped up in the blanket you had recommended. Still, as much as you could stare at his adorable face all night, you were exhausted. Burying your face under the covers, you did your best to calm your nerves and get some rest before class tomorrow.

----------------

“Peter,” you whispered, jostling him lightly by the shoulders in the hopes of waking him up. “Uh, we have an hour before class. I was thinking that it would be enough time for you to go shower and change, and then we could go get coffee or something.”

He blinked back up at you, amazed at how well he slept on your bean bag. You had already gotten ready for the day, doing your makeup and picking out one of your many fluffy sweaters to keep you warm in the New York snow.

“Thanks, that sounds awesome,” he yawned, accepting the hand you held out to help him up. The blanket fell, and you stared at each other in shock, having forgotten that Peter was in nothing but his underwear.

You dropped his hand as fast as you could, covering your eyes. “Oh my god! I’m sorry. Shit, I completely forgot, Peter. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get dressed.”

Peter watched as you stumbled around the room, your eyes squeezed tightly as your hands attempted to guide you away from him.

“Y/N,” he started, catching your attention as you nearly ran into your bed frame. “You can open your eyes. Really, I don’t care if you see me like this if it means I can keep you from breaking your nose.”

You hesitantly opened your eyes, relieved that Peter had already managed to pull his pants back on. Still, he was completely shirtless, and you found yourself staring at the abs you would have never expected to be hiding underneath his clothes.

Moments later, you averted your gaze, although you knew that he probably noticed you looking at where was now covered by his plaid button-down and dark blue sweater.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” he muttered, before practically sprinting out of your room and up the stairs. You groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in a pillow before attempting to take a quick twenty-minute power nap.

Peter couldn’t believe it. Sure, he had thought one time about you seeing him without clothes on, but this wasn’t how he thought it would go at all. Still, the image of you staring at him shirtless, your face flushed, made him feel like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Dude! There you are,” Ned screamed, startled at his roommate’s unexpected entrance. Peter panted, having run up four flights of stairs as fast as he could. “Wait a second. Did you finally get laid? Is this a walk of shame?”

Before Ned could praise him any further, Peter was grabbing a change of clothes and sprinting towards the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he begged himself.

The memory of your leg touching his last night immediately came to mind, and Peter was so angry at himself for being this starved for physical intimacy. To be fair, though, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and so he cut himself some slack.

Shit, he told himself, making sure the water was set to cold. He needed to calm down, but instead, his thoughts were stuck on how good you looked in your pajamas, but also how good you would look without them and—fuck it.

Peter liked you a lot, and if thinking about you like this in private kept him from being a complete weirdo in person, then maybe he just needed to get his feelings of desperation over with.

When he came back down to your room about thirty minutes later, you were still super tired. You trudged your way towards the door, your hair now noticeably messier than earlier, but at least that meant your nap had been a success.

His hair was still damp and this time he was wearing yet another blue sweater, which made you wonder if he ever wore any other color. He had his backpack slung over one of his shoulders and a nervous smile on his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Hey,” he said, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “Are you ready to go?”

You leaned against the doorway a little bit, letting out a yawn that was literally the cutest noise Peter had ever heard in his life. “Yeah, let me get my backpack.”

“It’s so heavy,” you continued, rightfully complaining as the weight of all its contents practically pulled you downwards. “I think it’s so stupid how almost every professor bans computers from class. Like, it’s not fair that I have to lug around three textbooks every day. I don’t have time to run back to my dorm in between classes like some people!”

Peter frowned. Three textbooks were nothing to him, but he knew that you didn’t have spidey-strength and that you were also pretty tiny compared to him. It must’ve been hell on your back to be carrying all that stuff around every day.

“I can carry it for you,” he offered, holding out his hand to switch with you. “Here, you can take my backpack if it’ll make you feel better. I have a lot of programming classes today, so I’ve only got my laptop and a notebook in there.”

You gave him a look of gratitude as he traded bags with you, literally taking the weight off your shoulders. He was right. His backpack was much more manageable for you, even if the dark grey contrasted with the light colors you always wore.

In contrast, it looked kind of odd for him to be walking around with a backpack that was covered in a soft pink floral pattern, much like everything else you owned, but the sight of him carrying your books brought a smile to your face.

It was one of the sweetest things a guy had ever done for you, and Peter wasn’t even your boyfriend. He probably didn’t even think of you in that way.

“Uh, where do you usually get coffee?” he asked, slowing his pace so you could keep up. He felt bad seeing how tired you were, no doubt due to the lack of sleep you got last night.

“The Starbucks next to Hendrie Hall,” you replied, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “You?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” he admitted. “I’m actually more of a tea person.”

“Oh,” you hesitated, wondering if it was worth it to walk all the way across campus just for a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino. “We could go somewhere closer then.”

“It’s okay,” Peter reassured you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to your destination. “I like walking.”

----------------

You hadn’t really talked to Peter since that morning before class, but sometimes you would peek behind you and catch him stealing glances at you. Eventually, he had started to feel brave enough to give you a little wave whenever you caught him looking at you. Well, at least the times when you were awake.

One day, not even the loud shuffling and growing chatter of your classmates exiting the lecture hall could wake you up, and Peter figured he better do something before you got chewed out by one of the TAs.

“Y/N?” he said, leaning closer so that you could hopefully hear him. “Y/N. You gotta wake up. Class ended three minutes ago.”

He shook you a little bit, nervously hoping that you wouldn’t mind him touching you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled softly as soon as you realized it was Peter.

“Oh. Thanks,” you said, standing up to slide your empty notebook into your backpack. Your hand brushed the side of your mouth, making sure you hadn’t drooled onto yourself.

“You can borrow my notes,” he offered, glancing at you sheepishly as you gathered up your coat and fixed your hair. “If you want to.”

“That’d be great,” you sighed, wondering whether you should skip your next class and just go take a nap. At this point, you weren’t even bothering to put on makeup and you basically wore whatever clothes you had that weren’t already sprawled across your room.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, walking close to you to make sure you didn’t fall over. He knew you were an insomniac, but you looked seriously sleep-deprived today. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?”

“Nope,” you huffed, lugging your perpetually heavy backpack along. “But I’m skipping the rest of my classes today. I’d rather lie that I’m sick through an e-mail than have to explain to my professors why I was sleeping during their classes.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, stopping you in your tracks to take your backpack from you. “I’ve actually got some time before my next class. I can walk you back to your room and give you my notebook if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him, reaching to take your bag back from him, although he didn’t let you.

“Y/N. Come on, you’re exhausted. At least let me carry your stuff, alright?” He had such a kind look in his eyes, and you certainly didn’t have the energy to keep arguing for no reason.

“Okay.” You crossed your arms, the cold air slowly waking you up as the wind hit your face. Your ears were super cold, but you were glad you had pulled your hair into a quick braid to keep it from flying everywhere.

It wasn’t long before you were kicking your boots off in your dorm room, your teeth chattering as you wrapped yourself in a blanket.

“Do you want some tea?” you asked Peter, inviting him to sit down wherever.

“Sure, but I thought you drank coffee,” he reminded you, watching as you pulled an assortment of tea bags for him to choose from.

“I do,” you said, handing him the box and running to your bathroom to fill up the electric kettle. “But you drink tea.”

Peter’s ears suddenly felt hot. You had gotten tea just for him. Or maybe you were just a really good hostess and kept some around for all of your visitors. Probably the second option, he thought.

“Are you even allowed to have one of those?” he asked as the two of you waited for the water to boil.

“No,” you laughed, sitting next to him on your bed. For someone with so much space to themselves, you really needed to invest in more places to sit. “But you can’t have candles or fairy lights either, so I guess I’m just a rule breaker.”

“Guess I’ll just have to report you to the RA,” Peter teased, getting up to make himself a cup of earl grey. “Do you have any sugar?”

“Top drawer on the right,” you replied. “Do you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yes.” You watched as his lips blew on the tea to cool it down before remembering that it was weird to stare.

“You should let me bake something for you. What’s your favorite dessert?” You were kicking your dangling legs, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than this morning.

“Chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting,” he said in between sips, walking back over to you. With you on the tall bed and him standing, your faces were level with each other.

“I’ll have to make you one to thank you,” you smiled, peering into his eyes. Peter felt your heartbeat quicken, and the grin on your face as you stared at each other made him weak in the knees.

“Can I get those notes?” you asked, making him remember that people don’t just look at each other and say nothing like that.

“Oh! Yeah, definitely.” He quickly set the mug down on your nightstand to rummage through his backpack, flipping one of his notebooks open before handing it to you. “There are the ones from today, but all of the ones I’ve taken this semester are in there too.”

“Wow,” you laughed, making a worried expression form on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are they not good?”

“No, it’s not that. They’re just, uh, very thorough.” He had basically transcribed your professor’s lectures onto the pages. “You must write really fast. But thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.”

Peter nodded before nervously gulping down the rest of his tea, not even noticing how hot the liquid still was as it nearly burned his throat.

“I should go now,” he started, looking around the room for his things. “I want you to get some rest, Y/N. Please.”

He had this look in his eyes that was so genuine—so full of care and concern—that it made you want to do whatever he asked you to.

“I’ll try,” you told him, awkwardly rubbing the top of your arm in the hopes that you could actually fall asleep after he left. “Have a nice day, Peter.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll stop by later,” he said, already halfway out the door. “For the notes, I mean! Uh, bye. Again. Okay. I’m going to go now.”

You giggled, giving him one last wave before he left. Like magic, the more you thought about how Peter was worried about you, the easier it was for you to drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

----------------

You woke up later that day to Peter knocking on your door, this time standing next to some guy in a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt.

“Hi, Y/N,” Peter greeted you. You looked a lot less tired than when he saw you this morning, which relieved him. “This is my roommate, Ned. He just wanted to know who I’ve been hanging out with, so I hope it’s okay that I brought him here to prove you’re real and not a figment of my imagination.”

Ned leaned closer to you, your hair still a little messy from your nap. “Blink twice if he’s paying you,” he whispered, causing you to giggle. Peter looked on nervously, unsure of what his best friend had just said to you.

“What did you say!?” he asked, lightly pushing Ned on the arm, knowing that it was probably something meant to embarrass him.

“Ow! Okay, now I’m really not telling you,” Ned replied, rubbing the spot where Peter had just hit him.

“Y/N, what did Ned say to you?” He turned to you, a worried look on his face as you and Ned held back your laughter. Peter’s face turned as red as a tomato, making you instantly feel a little bit bad.

“It was nothing, Peter. Really,” you said, pulling him into the room with you. “It was nice to meet you, Ned. I’ll make sure he’s back before curfew.”

Ned laughed, offering a quick thumbs up and mouthing “I like her” to Peter before you shut the door on him.

“I knew that was a mistake,” Peter sighed, his back against the door. You were still a bit giddy from the exchange, giggling softly as he slowed his breathing.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed around me,” you reassured him. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s just that…”

“What?” You could barely hear him as his voice trailed off.

“Well, uh, not all of my friends are, you know…”

“Spit it out, Peter,” you said, leaning closer so that you could hear him better.

“They’re not as pretty as you,” he muttered, making you blush at his words. Did he really think you were pretty?

“Oh. Thanks,” you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Peter lifted his head up, relieved that you didn’t think he was a creep or something.

“Your notebook’s on my desk,” you continued, stepping back a little to give him some space. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the distance between you and him grew. “I just took a bunch of pictures, so I can look at them on my computer whenever.”

“Alright, awesome,” he said, walking over to collect it before turning back to you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well, actually. The best I’ve slept in a while. I think you’re some kind of good luck charm.”

“Really?” he asked, a little surprised that he had been helpful.

“Really. You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it’d be nice if we hung out somewhere that wasn’t my room all the time,” you said, a hopeful look in your eyes. “If you want.”

Peter had never noticed it before, but the two of you really did spend most of your time together in your room. It really was a nice room, but it made sense that you’d want to get out of it every once and a while.

“I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” Play it cool, Parker, he told himself. You can freak out with Ned later.

“How about ice cream on Friday?” you suggested, which came as a bit of a surprise to him.

“In the middle of winter?” As far as Peter could remember, you were always cold.

“Yeah. I really love ice cream,” you added, smiling up at him.

“Okay, then. Ice cream it is,” he agreed. There was absolutely no way he could ever say no to you when you looked at him like that.

----------------

“May! No, it’s not a date. She’s just a friend. Yeah, I got it. Open the door, pay for her, don’t be an idiot!” Peter sighed into his phone, hoping his aunt’s unwarranted crash course on first dates would be over soon. “Yes, I’m wearing the green sweater. Thanks, love you. Bye!”

“I have no idea who told her I had a date tonight,” he groaned, slumping down onto the couch next to his best friend.

“I texted her,” Ned replied nonchalantly, not even looking away from whatever video game he was playing. “Knew you’d need some kind of pointers. Y/N is way out of your league.”

“Hey!” Was he right? Yes. Did Peter need to be reminded of it right before his not-a-date date with you? Definitely not.

“Come on, you know I’m right. It’s Liz Allan all over again. I have no idea how you keep pulling all of these pretty girls, but hey, credit where credit is due.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I keep it real and you love it. Good luck, man.”

“Bye,” Peter grumbled, slipping on his coat and walking out of their room. Four flights of stairs later, he was at your door.

“Hi!” you squeaked, wrapping your arms around him. This was the first time the two of you had ever hugged and Peter was not going to forget about it anytime soon. “Come in. I have a surprise for you!”

“Here,” you continued, holding out a blue and white beanie for him. “I made it for you. To match all those blue sweaters you wear all the time.” Except this time, he was wearing a forest green one, which brought out the slight hazel tinge in his eyes.

“You made this for me?” he asked, eyeing the different stitches you had used and fiddling with the pom-pom on top. It looked store-bought.

“Well, yeah, silly. I just said that,” you replied, hoping that he liked it. With all the time you didn’t sleep, you were knitting anyway, but this was a special present for him. “Try it on.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he sighed, pulling the hat onto his head. He looked really cute, the ends of his wavy hair peeking out from underneath the brim.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, pulling him out of your room and towards the front of the dorm building. “Getting to hang out with you is good enough for me.”

“Where’d you learn how to knit?” Peter questioned, walking alongside you on the snow-lined sidewalks. With how cold it was, and considering he didn’t have a hood on his coat, it seemed like perfect timing that you had given him a hat.

“My grandma taught me,” you shared, taking in the twinkling of the streetlamps and how they bounced against the snow. In New York, that was practically the closest you could get to stargazing. “My, uh, grandparents actually raised me.”

“Oh. I was raised by my aunt and uncle,” Peter confided. It made you feel not so alone to find out that he didn’t grow up with his parents either, even though you knew firsthand just how hard it was.

“Do they live around here?” you asked, stealing glances at him and how rosy his cheeks were in the cold air.

“Yeah, my aunt lives in Queens,” he told you, staring at his feet to both avoid eye contact and make sure neither of you accidentally slipped. Not that he wouldn’t catch you, but he wanted to be safe. “My uncle actually passed away a couple of years ago.”

You stopped walking, immediately feeling a sense of regret. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. There was no way for you to have known that,” Peter reassured you, his warm breath coming out in clouds, and he reached for your hand to run his thumb across your knuckles. He gently pulled you along, keeping you from dying of embarrassment in the middle of campus.

“What about you? Are you from around here?” he asked, hoping to break the silence and make you feel a little bit better.

“No, I just moved up here for college. I grew up in Texas but moved to North Carolina when I was 13, so I finished school down there,” you explained, Peter suddenly noticing a slight Southern twang to your voice. “I just really wanted to go to school in a big city and not next to a farm for once in my life.”

“That makes sense,” he laughed, wondering what it would be like to live somewhere else. “I’ve only ever lived in New York City.”

“Do you like it here?”

“I love it. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, to be honest.”

“Me either,” you sighed, squeezing his hand tighter as the two of you enjoyed your walk in the snow.

It seemed like forever before you reached the ice cream shop, but you didn’t mind. That just gave you and Peter more time to get to know each other better. Turns out you both competed in academic decathlons, although you were more of a math person and he preferred science.

“Okay, you’re wrong. Night at the Museum 2 is so much better than the first one. I mean that kiss between Ben Stiller and Amy Adams? The Jonas Brothers as little cherub angels? Name one thing from the original that tops that,” you ranted in between spoonfuls of peppermint ice cream.

“I just really like when the little cowboy and gladiator are driving that toy car around,” he reasoned, subtly admitting defeat.

“Don’t even get me started on why the second Shrek movie—”

You were interrupted by the sound of Peter’s phone ringing, and you immediately recognized his ringtone as the Coconut Mall theme from Mario Kart. He peered down at his phone screen, sighing and mouthing an apology to you as he accepted the call.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Stark. Did you need something?” Well, at least you knew he wasn’t lying about his internship at Stark Industries. “Toronto? Tonight? I’m kind of busy.”

There was a long pause as Peter mentally kicked himself for talking back to Tony, resulting in an earful about how being an Avenger should always be at the top of his priorities.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be right over… but I need a favor. Could you send Happy to pick my friend up? Yeah, it’s the ice cream shop on 1st. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. Bye.” He frowned at you, and you could tell from what you had heard that he had to go.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just, something came up last minute and Mr. Stark really needs me to go on this business trip with him,” he apologized, pulling his coat on. “But, uh, he’s sending a car for you. So don’t worry about walking back alone, alright? I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay? Bye!”

“Oh, okay. Bye!” you managed to call out before he was running out the doors and down the street. Lots of customers were staring as you awkwardly gathered your things and went to go wait on the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, a shiny black car had pulled up to the curb in front of you, a man rolling down the window.

“Miss Y/N? I’m Happy Hogan. Mr. Stark sent me to drive you home,” he called from the driver’s seat, before getting out to open your door for you. You stepped in, a little starstruck at how nice the car was. You had never been in anything this expensive before.

The two of you were sitting in silence until you finally got the courage to speak up.

“Mr. Hogan,” you started, causing him to turn down the smooth jazz that had been playing on the radio. “Do you know why Peter has to go to Toronto?”

“Yes,” he replied, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “But I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh, okay,” you accepted, shifting to look out the window at all of the places in the city that you hadn’t yet gotten the chance to explore.

Eventually, he was dropping you off in front of your dorm, and you were trudging inside to your room to sulk about how your not-a-date date with Peter had gotten interrupted. You stared at your ceiling all night, wondering when the next time you’d see each other would be, and whether or not he’d come back with the same cuts and bruises as when you had first met.

----------------

Peter had been gone for six days and counting, and you were starting to worry that he might never come back. You had already started missing him the night he left, and now it was just some agonizing waiting game for him to return.

You must have spent hours in the basement kitchen before deciding to visit the fourth floor where Peter lived. You knocked on the door and was quickly met with Ned’s shocked expression.

“Uh, hi, Y/N. Peter’s not here right now. Did you need something?”

“I know,” you acknowledged, holding up the plate in your hand. “It’s just, well, I’ve been baking a lot and I didn’t really know who to give all of these cookies to, so I was wondering if you wanted any.”

“Oh, in that case, sign me up!” You watched as his face lit up as he noticed the assortment of chocolate chip, sugar, and snickerdoodle cookies all still warm from the oven. He offered his hands out to take the plate from you, which you happily relinquished.

“These are really good,” he complimented, his mouth full of a sugar cookie. “Can I keep the rest of them?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered, doing your best to smile despite how much you wished it had been Peter opening the door. “I’ll see you around, Ned.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out to you, making you turn around on the stairwell. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s going to be back any day now.” You nodded, offering him a wave and walking back down to your room.

Turns out Ned had been right. The strange noises outside of your window were masked by how loud you were jamming out to We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel, jumping around and listing off the lyrics that had never made much sense to you. Peter knocked louder on the glass, startling you as you quickly switched off the music to investigate.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, squinting your eyes to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Spider-Man? Is that really you?”

You fumbled to push up your window, extremely confused as to why one of the Avengers was outside your bedroom this late at night.

“It’s me, Y/N,” he explained, his voice suddenly becoming extremely familiar. Your eyes widened as you realized who was behind the mask.

“Oh my god! PETER?” you screamed as he slipped through the window, pulling off his mask and clapping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t freak out. It’s okay. It’s just me, okay?” he stammered in an attempt to get you to calm down before an RA heard. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really wanted to tell you, but we were in public when I left, and I couldn’t risk it. And I didn’t want to text it or do it over the phone because it’s kind of a big deal, so I figured I’d just come to see you as soon as I got back and Mr. Stark said that you have to promise—”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into the very weird material of his spider-suit. “I won’t tell anybody.”

He softened under your touch, resting his head on top of yours. “I like your dance moves,” he whispered, making you glare up at him, your face suddenly very red.

“How long were you watching?” you groaned, dramatically throwing yourself onto your bean bag, your face covered by your hands.

“Only for about a minute,” he answered, pulling your hands down so you could see him grinning at you. “I especially liked how you used your hairbrush as a microphone. Plus, I thought we agreed to stop being embarrassed around each other?”

“Well, that was before I knew you were freaking Spider-Man!”

“Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, nudging you to scoot over and make room for him.

“So, that’s what that whole Toronto thing was?” you asked as he sat next to you, your knee touching his.

“Yep. There was this thing about aliens and these guys that could shapeshift. It’s a lot to explain.”

“Are you going to keep that thing on all night?” you asked, gesturing at his outfit, which was very tight and very distracting from whatever alien story he had to tell.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything on underneath it.”

“How scandalous,” you teased. “Not so family-friendly after all, huh, Spidey?”

“Oh, shut up,” he quipped, rolling his eyes as you let out a long yawn.

“Have you been sleeping much?” he continued, suddenly remembering the issue that had brought the two of you together in the first place.

“Of course not. I’ve been too busy worrying about my classes and, oh, just some idiot I know that abandoned me in the middle of an ice cream shop. Pretty sure he said he’d make that up to me, by the way.”

“Okay, okay. Message received. What would you like?” Please say a kiss. Please say a kiss. Please say a—

“Can I meet them? The Avengers, I mean. It’s not like anyone else really has a secret identity except for you.”

“Oh. I mean, I’d have to ask Mr. Stark and the rest of the team and see if they’re cool with it, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome! You’re the best,” you chimed, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

It was then that Peter decided he would just never be able to wash that side of his face again, his heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Peter,” you said, breaking the silence he had left the two of you in. “I’m tired.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “I should head up to my room. Gotta make sure Ned knows I’m still alive.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, standing up to see him out. “Aren’t you worried somebody will see you, though?”

“Y/N, it’s 4 a.m. I’m pretty sure that you and I are the only people on campus that are awake right now.”

“Oh, right. Still, be careful, okay?” you told him, slightly worried at his secret identity being found out by some college kid that just couldn’t stay off Twitter.

“Will do,” he said, smiling and giving you a little salute before leaving.

----------------

A few days later, before you could even greet him, Peter was already walking into your room. It was 10 p.m., a little earlier than when he usually came over, but by now you were used to him showing up at your door unannounced.

He was already wearing his pajamas, a t-shirt with a science pun and some flannel pants that he had invested in to avoid any more awkward moments between the two of you. You were dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, the clothes you usually threw on after class just in case you fell asleep on accident. There had been more times where you had woken up sweaty with your jeans stuck to your legs than you were willing to admit.

“Okay, so I asked Mr. Stark about your request and he told me he doesn’t think now is a good time, but…” he grinned, holding out a giant cardboard box with some kind of minimalist home appliance on the front for you to look at.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” you blinked back, trying to figure out what the hell you were staring at, considering that all of the text written on it was in a language you didn’t know how to read.

“It’s some fancy white noise machine from Japan. If I remember correctly, Mr. Stark said he made Pepper order it because I wouldn’t shut up about you, and it would be in everybody’s best interest if you got some sleep, so I could stop annoying him and the rest of the team.”

“Oh. That’s pretty thoughtful, I guess,” you said, gathering things off your floor to make space for it.

He set the box down on your rug and got to work opening it. Meanwhile, you were busy translating what exactly Tony Stark had so generously gifted to you.

“Peter, wait. This thing is like $300. Doesn’t he know that you can just look up whale noises on YouTube for free?”

“Yeah, but this one adjusts its volume based on the noises around it, has a light that simulates the sun rising, and has an alarm noise that’s supposed to support healthy cortisol levels.”

Peter peered up to see your arms crossed and brows furrowed, it suddenly becoming clear to him that the things he had just listed meant very little to you.

“Plus, he’s a literal billionaire, so I don’t think it was that big of a loss for him,” he added.

“Fine. Let’s just hope this thing works,” you sighed, watching as Peter leafed through the instruction manual before tossing it behind him. “It’s a little early to go to sleep, though.”

“Y/N, plenty of people go to sleep at 10. Not everybody is nocturnal like you.”

“I guess you have a point,” you agreed, kneeling down beside him as he fiddled with all the settings.

“I know,” he said with a smirk as you rested your chin on his shoulder to get a better look at what he was doing. “What time do you want to wake up? 7 a.m. would give us time to go get breakfast before class, but we could do 8 if you wanted to sleep in.”

“We?” you mused, liking the sound of that. “I guess that means you’re staying here tonight?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not letting you have all these overpriced rainforest noises to yourself.”

“Do 7. We can go get those blueberry muffins that you like,” you decided, standing up to get Peter’s makeshift bed on your bean bag ready. “Do you actually like sleeping on this thing, or were you just trying to be polite the first time I asked?”

“Dude, that thing is awesome. It’s like I’m on this little cuddly cloud, and then you add all those warm blankets and the twinkly lights and it’s the perfect recipe for me to fall asleep.”

“Wow,” you nodded, looking around your room to see all of the things that Peter was talking about. “I wish it worked that way for me.”

“Maybe it will, tonight.”

It didn’t. You were tossing and turning for nearly an hour to the agonizing sounds of birds cawing and the occasional monkey chatter, all set against the backdrop of a heavy thunderstorm. To be honest, it was something that would’ve given you nightmares when you were little.

“Y/N?” Peter whispered from the floor. “Are you sleeping?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“Could you turn that thing off? It’s really distracting me.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, leaning over to switch the noise machine off. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

He hesitated, not really sure if he should ask the question that he had been thinking about for a while now. “How old were you when your parents died?”

You had to think for a moment, not really sure about the answer. For as long as you could remember, you just lived with your grandparents. “Um, well my mom left when I was a baby. And I think my dad passed away when I was four.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a parent leave you, but he didn’t want to pry just in case it was a sensitive topic. “Are your grandparents from your mom or dad’s side?”

You rolled over to rest your head on the edge of your bed so that you could see him better. He looked so cute bundled up in all of your blankets, his hair already a bit messy. “They’re my mom’s parents. It’s weird. I see a lot of pictures of her from when she was growing up, and I look so much like her, but she’s basically a stranger to me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but there was a long pause and he decided not to.

“What about you? How old were you when your parents passed away?”

“Five or six. They met while working at the C.I.A. together, but most of my memories are from the stories my aunt and uncle told me when I was growing up.”

For a moment, neither of you could find the right words to say to each other.

“Peter,” you spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m really glad I met you.”

“I’m really glad I met you too.”

----------------

Peter’s next plan of action involved even more advice from his fellow Avengers, and you were not looking forward to trying out any of their suggestions.

“Okay, so, Steve—I mean Captain America—said that when he was little, you know, in the 1940s, all he had to do was drink a glass of warm milk before bed.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” you groaned, crossing your arms.

“I just saw you eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s in one sitting the other day.”

“Regular milk has almost 15 times more lactose than ice cream. You’d think a science nerd like you would know that.”

“I’m a geek,” he scoffed, clearly a little bit offended. “Not a nerd.”

“Yeah, I can see that now. It’s okay, though. At least you’re pretty,” you said, pinching his cheek.

“Just try it,” he grumbled, handing you the warm glass and waiting impatiently for you to take a sip. If anything, the milk did a better job at keeping you up that night than putting you to sleep. Not even thirty minutes after you had gone to bed, you were feeling sick to your stomach.

“I hate milk,” you gagged, Peter holding your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet bowl. “My grandpa could never get me to drink it as a kid.”

“Is that why you’re so short?” he laughed, helping you up. You glared at him as you moved to the sink to wash the acidic taste out of your mouth.

“Shut up, Parker,” you quipped, tired and grumpy from how terrible you felt. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“Alright, munchkin,” he smiled, pulling you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed.

Somehow, the warm milk wasn’t even the worst of Peter’s ideas, because a few days later, he was standing at your door with a bottle of some Asgardian sleep aid from the lightning god himself.

“Are you sure this is safe for me to drink?” you asked, your eyes widening as you stared at the silvery liquid that was almost shimmering.

“Uh, I’m about 87% confident you’ll live,” he said, “But I’m 100% sure that it’ll work.”

“Gee, thanks. Now I really want to drink this weird alien potion,” you sighed, looking at him nervously.

“Just drink a little bit and see if you feel anything,” Peter encouraged, leaning over your shoulder. You nodded, hesitantly bringing the drink up to your lips to take a sip.

“This stuff tastes amazing,” you mused, taking a bigger gulp this time. “Like a blue raspberry slushie.”

“Whoa, that’s enough,” he warned, taking the bottle from your hands before you could drink any more of it. “We don’t want you to go into a coma.”

“I don’t feel anything,” you shrugged, frowning back at him. “Maybe I should—”

You stopped mid-sentence to let out a loud yawn, the potion starting to take effect. Peter caught you as you slumped down in your chair, helping you into bed.

“Okay. I definitely feel it now,” you admitted, already half asleep. Peter tucked you under your blankets, placing a kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered, turning off your lights and softly closing the door behind him.

For a moment, Peter had thought he had finally found a solution to your insomnia. At least before you slept through class the next morning. And then the day after that. But it wasn’t until the third day that he really started to freak out.

“Where’s Thor!?” he panted, having run all the way from his class over to the Avengers Tower. Wanda and Vision stared back at him from the kitchen, very confused at what he was so panicked about.

“He’s in his room,” Bucky called from the couch, his mouth full of popcorn as 13 Going on 30 played on the big screen. “What’s going on, kid?”

“No time to explain. Gotta go!” Peter called, sprinting up the stairs towards Thor’s room. He knocked frantically until the door finally swung open.

“Greetings, young Spiderling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Thor smiled, his long, golden hair shiny as ever.

“I think I killed my almost-girlfriend!” Peter blurted out, practically sweating from how stressed out he was. “She drank that stuff you gave me and she hasn’t woken up in three days now!”

Thor chuckled, patting Peter on the head. “Do not worry, my brother. I’m sure she will wake up given time. It was a very potent drink, after all. Calm yourself.”

“Okay,” he sighed, relieved to know that he hadn’t poisoned you to death. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. She’s fine. Everything’s fine. Thanks, man. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Farewell, Peter. May we meet again soon,” he grinned before closing the door in Peter’s face.

On the way back down the stairs, Peter figured he’d give you a call and see if you were still sleeping.

“Hello?” you groaned, your throat dry from just waking up. “Peter, what the hell happened to me?”

“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” Peter yelled into the phone, making you recoil from the volume of his excitement. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Y/N. I thought you were dead.”

“I am very much alive,” you laughed, slowly feeling the potion wearing off. “Where are you?”

“Uh. I may have run all the way to Midtown to ask Thor if I had killed you,” he admitted, feeling you roll your eyes through the screen. “I was worried, okay?”

“Now you know how I feel whenever you leave for a mission,” you countered, glad that Peter couldn’t see how much you were blushing. “Hurry up and get your butt back over here. I have the weirdest dream to tell you about.”

----------------

Even if you still weren’t getting a full eight hours of rest at night, it was obvious that all of Peter’s efforts had vastly improved your sleep schedule. Over the past few months, you had gone from staring at your ceiling all night to actually being able to stay asleep for small periods of time.

“Your eyelashes are so long,” you mused, playing with Peter’s hair. He was sitting in between your legs and How the Grinch Stole Christmas was playing on your TV.

“Really?” He tilted his head back to look at you, batting his eyelashes and making you giggle.

“Yes. It’s not fair that boys get all of the pretty eyelashes,” you pouted, watching as the Grinch explained his plan to steal all of Whoville’s presents to his dog.

“I think yours are pretty,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. “But there’s a rogue one just hanging out on your face right now.”

“Can you get it?” you asked, your eyes still glued on the TV screen. Peter nodded, twisting around to gently brush the eyelash from your cheek.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he laughed, holding the little eyelash on the tip of his finger in front of you.

“Okay,” you agreed, squeezing your eyes shut and blowing it away. When you opened them, Peter’s face was only inches away from yours.

“What did you wish for?” His gaze shifted downwards to look at your lips for a split second, before returning to look into your eyes.

“I can’t tell you, dummy. Then it won’t come true.” You weren’t about to tell your best friend that you wished for him to kiss you. At least not now, while the two of you were stuck in this really weird “not dating, but more than just friends” limbo.

“Fine,” he frowned, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that you recognized had been mimicked after you.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you said, mirroring his stance. Your puppy dog eyes were definitely a lot more convincing than his.

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, sure. You smell really good, by the way. Well, your hoodie does. I could just wrap myself up in it and fall asleep.”

“How come you’ve never mentioned that before? You could’ve been out cold every night months ago!”

“Guess I was just too distracted by your dreamy face,” you teased, causing Peter to blush.

“Whatever. Seriously, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I think it took me a while to realize how sleepy I got whenever you were really close to me,” you shrugged. “You’re not mad at me, right?”

“Of course not. But if I had known sooner I would’ve just given you one,” he said, slipping the hoodie over his head and handing it to you. “Here, put it on. You better fall asleep instantly or I’m calling bullshit.”

“You caught me, Peter. This was all some elaborate plan for me to steal one of your hoodies.”

“Just put it on. The suspense is killing me.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hoodie on. Just from looking at Peter and how slim he was, you never would have guessed that it would be this oversized on you.

“How do I look?” you asked, striking silly poses in front of him. Peter involuntarily licked his lips and he knew he’d be replaying this image of you in his head for the next few weeks.

“You’re going to have to keep that,” he stammered, doing his best to hide how much he really liked seeing you in his clothes. “It looks a lot better on you. I, um, have to go do my homework. And call my aunt. And walk my roommate.”

Peter stumbled to his feet, staring at his wristwatch to maintain his act that he was late for something before grabbing his things and heading out the door, making sure to hold his backpack in front of him. “Let me know if the hoodie thing works. Bye!”

----------------

Brushing off Peter’s strangely abrupt departure from last night, you nuzzled into your pillow, the warm morning light spilling through your curtains. Last night had probably been your best sleep in months, and you even got to wake up late since it was Saturday. Things probably couldn’t have gone any better.

Before you knew it, you were running up to Peter’s room and banging on his door. He opened the door on your fourth knock, right after Ned had chucked a pillow at him, and you were met with his sleepy eyes and messy hair.

“It worked!” you yelped in excitement, twirling around and still wearing his hoodie. “Well, kind of. I fell asleep after about an hour, and then I slept for maybe three after that. But I had to pee in the middle of the night, and when I got back into bed I couldn’t fall back asleep until 6 a.m.”

“That’s some good progress,” he yawned, stepping out into the hallway to keep your little celebration from bothering Ned too much. “If only we could get you to sleep the entire night.”

“I know right. But I’m so happy!” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him. “We finally did something right!”

“We need to celebrate!” you continued, grabbing Peter’s hand and dragging him down the stairs. “Come on. We’re making you a chocolate cake!”

You stopped by your room on the way to the kitchen, piling a bunch of ingredients into Peter’s arms from your mini-fridge and various shelves.

“Okay, eggs, flour, butter, sugar, chocolate. Damn it. We’re all out of milk.” You side-eyed him, remembering the whole Captain America induced fiasco from a couple weeks ago.

“I think we might have some in our room,” Peter laughed. “Ned drinks a lot of milk mixed with Milo powder. It’s some obsession he picked up when his family took a vacation to Australia. I’ll go get it.”

He set all of the ingredients you had given him on your desk and sprinted back up the stairs to raid Ned’s stash, already thinking of ways to apologize for it later.

A few minutes later he was knocking on your door, out of breath, and dressed to brave the many inches of snow that had fallen overnight.

“We didn’t have any milk,” he panted. “But I can run to the dining hall and get a few cartons.”

“I’ll go with you.” You quickly pulled on your snow boots and layered your puffer coat on top of Peter’s hoodie, wrapping a hand-knit scarf around your neck just to be safe. “All ready.”

Getting the milk was the easy part. Making sure you didn’t die of frostbite was another story. By the time you and Peter got back to your room, your nose was super red and you couldn’t feel your toes.

“Okay,” you said, your teeth chattering. “I thought I was used to the snow by now, but that was something else.” You dropped your coat on the ground and climbed into your bed, burying yourself under your comforter.

“I thought we were making a cake,” he laughed, walking over to see you peeking out of the pile.

“Cake will have to wait,” you whined, your voice slightly muffled by the blanket. “Come here. I need some of your body heat.”

“Okay,” he stuttered, kicking off his sneakers and climbing in beside you. He had sat on your bed a lot since the two of you met, but this was the first time that he was actually laying in it. You snuggled up to him, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“This is nice,” you sighed, nuzzling your head into his chest. “Is this one of your superpowers? Spidey-warmth?” Peter let out a soft laugh. It was silly but true. Ever since the bite, he never really noticed how cold it was outside anymore.

“Y/N,” he whispered, tightening his grip around your waist. Your head was nestled underneath his chin, and he could smell the faint citrus scent of your shampoo. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Pete?” you yawned, your eyelids heavy from how comfy Peter’s cuddles were.

“I love you.” He held his breath, nervously waiting for you to respond.

“I know,” you giggled, intertwining your legs. “Sometimes, you talk in your sleep. You’ve probably professed your love for me at least eight times by now.”

“Oh.” Peter had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that.

“Don’t worry. I love you, too,” you assured him, grinning and placing little kisses on his jawline. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Maybe you could make it a little more obvious,” he mumbled, his heartbeat getting quicker as you shifted up to kiss him on the lips, your hand running through his hair.

“I will,” you smiled, your forehead resting against his. “But after we take a nap, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, snuggling as close as he possibly could to you, never wanting to let go. In no time at all, he watched happily as you fell asleep in his arms, wondering how the two of you hadn’t thought of this sooner.

----------------

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @parkerlovebot @alytavzla @yourbiggestspiderfan @silentium-tais-toi @jailcalledlife @orangesodafoam @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @spideydreamers @taciturnspidey @harrisonsoceaneyes

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel #mcu #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff

718 notes · View notes

barnesand · 3 years

Text

the scent of old stories [ i ]

Summary: You haven’t found your thing here in Brooklyn, but you hope that you’ve found it within the bookstore that happens to be on your work commute. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader AU: *chants* bookshop au, bookshop au, bookshop au. Warnings: No warnings for now! Author’s note: I’ve been down, and I just wanted to write something that made me happy. I don’t know if this is technically fluff, but it’s the start of something new and Alpine is in it. Word Count: 2,551 Words (I'm a damn monster) chapter two can be found here: x

You’ve stumbled upon it during your early morning commute; it was a blur in your periphery the first time, your thoughts steadfast on the sweltering heat of your coffee cup, and it wasn’t until you successfully attuned yourself to your new schedule that you stole a proper glance at it. It was wedged between a coffee shop and insurance agency—two stories at least with gold flourishes and filigree painted at the edges of the window. Through that window you saw the aisles and stacks of books, all old and you gave yourself that short perusal to imagine the alluring scent of old stories. It was during that time that you decided you would take your day off to go inside; you had to.

You haven’t mastered the ability to resist a bookstore, especially one with old books in desperate need of a new bookshelf. Luckily, you had a couple of spots that have yet to be filled. And the Second Hand seemed to be the perfect place to lose a couple of hours scouring the stacks looking for some new companions.

Quick to remember the time that it closed, you tried your best to ignore the glee that settled into the pit of your stomach. How long have you lived in Brooklyn? Not long, and truthfully, you haven’t quite found the thing that made you love it. There were small things that you enjoyed, but you still managed to miss your hometown. You missed your favorite hangouts, the secrets about your home that only you knew. You didn’t have those things in Brooklyn, yet. All you knew was your job, and the streets you took to get there. Perhaps, the Second Hand could be your thing? There would be a seat that you always sat in, and an aisle that you visited so often you memorized all the books that were in it. You could be on a first-name basis with the employees and visit so often that you’d memorize their coffee orders.

Yes, you needed a place to cement your adoration for your new home.

Your day off finally came and dressed in your coziest turtleneck and jeans you followed your familiar work commute until you reached the Second Hand. There was something about the sing-song chime of the bell above a door that made you realize you were going to have a good time. And, just as you suspected, the scent of old stories filled your lungs. You weren’t a big fan of bookstores that looked clean and meticulously organized. You preferred a certain level of chaos—and the Second Hand provided that slight chaos. There were certain aisles thinner than most, due to an overflow of old books that have yet to find a place on the shelves. You could hear the soft mewl of a cat most likely prowling through the stacks above on the second store, and the small piles of books seemed to be on every step of the staircase. You made no effort to hide the elated smile that slid across your features. You clutched tightly to your coffee, making your way towards the staircase.

Indeed, that phantom cat you heard before—snow white and thick around the middle—was lurking on the second story. It leaned against the railing, eyes closed, and you could hear them purring from where you stood at the top. You made a note to ask the shop-keep (wherever they may be), if they had a name and if it was the kind of cat that welcomed a stranger petting them.

Despite being clear signs for each section, you instead made the decision to walk up and down each aisle without a single inclination of what you were looking for. Your fingers lingered over the spines, searching for the ones with the deepest lines. You preferred the ones that made you worry—the ones in which you knew you would have to restore the spines to a certain extent. Because, to you, that meant that it was someone’s favorite. It made you curious, made you wonder what about the story made someone read it over and over and over until the spine was only being held together by sheer faith.

The white cat began to follow you around, weaving between your legs when you stood still. You had to stifle a giggle once or twice when you moved and nearly stumbled over the cat—that was your mistake, you should have known the direction in which the cat was going—when they moved one way and you went the other. By the time you reached the top of the staircase again, prepared to make your descent to the stacks below, you’ve culminated several books.

You meandered halfway down the stairs before looking up, expecting the cat to follow. You tried to hide the pout, not wanting the cat to think you enjoyed your time together or anything.

You reached the bottom step, already scrutinizing over the selection you’ve made so far. Honestly, you should’ve come into the bookstore with at least a budget in mind. Knowing that you didn’t set a hard spending limit was your biggest trouble. Your second was that you hadn’t even looked down the aisles on the first floor, which meant that your stack would get heavier.

You stood on the last step, already looking at the spines—maybe you didn’t need another copy of Anna Karenina. You weren’t much of a Western fanatic, but the premise of it intrigued you and that felt like a good enough reason to keep it. No… no, you’d need a second opinion about it. You looked up to find the front counter mostly abandoned. Somewhere in the stacks you’d probably find an employee (or, if anything else, another customer). Moving towards the counter, you aimed to set your stack of books on the edge of it so that you could retrieve them later.

From the opposite end of the room, you heard a commotion through a cracked door. You stilled, waiting for the person to emerge.

And—fuck. You didn’t expect the person that emerged to look so good. Truthfully, you didn’t quite know which part of him you enjoyed looking at the most. Was it how he nearly filled the doorway with this wide shoulders? Was it how crystalline, even from where you stood, his blue eyes were? No—no, it had to be the stubbled that dusted his sharp jaw, and that dark coif of hair that made your fingertips tingle at the very idea of running through fingers through it? It could be the way his teeth caught his bottom lip for just a second, his brows furrowing apologetically at the sound from earlier, before his mouth curled into a smile.

All the above. That was your answer—all of it.

“Hi,” he said.

“Anna Karenina,” you blurted. You didn’t want to think about the shade of red you suddenly turned, or how dry your throat suddenly became. You sputtered; words unintelligible before you slammed your hand on your stack of books. “I, uh—hi!”

“Hi,” he echoed, only that time it was followed by a short laugh.

He moved toward the counter, and you quickly made note of how tight his shirt was around his shoulders—you also noticed the name of the store embroidered on the pocket of it—and you cleared your throat. He settled behind the counter, that smile of his still fastened onto his face. He was so… pretty, it almost started to hurt. He sat on a stool, placing his elbows onto the countertop and leaning in.

You cleared your throat again, remembering why you placed your books on the counter in the first place. “I’m trying to decide if I need another copy of Anna Karenina. You know I, uh, made the poor choice of going shopping while hungry.”

You sighed. You swore you weren’t always a dork—in fact, you’d like to think of yourself as the female Casanova if you put your mind to it. But there was something about the tilt of his head when he looked at you, the way his smile shifted into a smirk. He reached for the books you’d chosen, and you marveled at the size of his hands with a big gulp. He could see it—you just knew he could see how flustered you were.

“I think my first question to ask is how many times have you read your current copy? I mean, if you’ve only read it once, then what are the odds of you reading this one?” He went through the stack one-by-one, eyeing the spine before nodding to himself. You wish you knew what he was thinking. “I’m also inclined to say, you know, all of them.”

“That’s not a good sign for my back account.”

He looked at you, then, and you felt a pang—not in your heart, but in your gut. The kind of pang that caused chill to climb your spine and told that, oh, you want this man to do awful things to you. Which wasn’t something you felt often. He pressed a hand on top of your stack of books once he was finished and you tried not to think about the size of it. His blue eyes stared you down, and you watched as that smirk of his turned impish almost.

“I think I have a discount code here somewhere,” he mused, reaching into a drawer with his other arm.

You noticed it then, sleek black metal with gold embellishments. The sophistication of the design enamored you, and you couldn’t quite peel your eyes away from the way it moved—which was no different than how you couldn’t peel your eyes away from every single part of him. You swallowed, blinking away the haze before returning your attention back to the conversation.

“I would be eternally grateful,” you answered him.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” he started to make casual conversation while he filtered through some papers. He paused to look at you, and his blue eyes looked just a little brighter when he did. “I’m Bucky.”

“Reader,” you greeted him. “And, yeah, I haven’t been in here until today. I’m new to town, so—”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Where ya from?”

You told Bucky where you’d come from, how you moved to Brooklyn for work shortly after grad school. For a moment, you started to wonder if he was taking his time looking for that discount, but each time he asked you more about your time in Brooklyn so far, and precisely what your job entailed, you didn’t mind him procrastinating.

“I mean,” you continued. “I’ve done the tourist-y stuff. The bridge. Coney Island. I just haven’t found the little local things that make it feel like home to me. It’s why I dropped in.”

You felt like you should keep that bit to yourself—like you were giving him way too much. For all you knew, he could have been making small talk for the sake of getting a sale. He probably didn’t want to know about your anxieties about living in a new city. But when Bucky looked at you, and listened, you thought you could spill everything. And it made that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach grow hotter. He finally found what he was looking for, and your smile sank for a moment. The conversation would be over—you could, of course, return. But that meant making another dent in your bank account, and you couldn’t risk hemorrhaging funs all for the sake of looking at his crystalline blue eyes.

“This’ll take about twenty percent off your purchase today, but,” he lifted himself from the stool, leaning in. He tilted his head, in a sort of look at me way and you did precisely that. “I will give you Anna Karenina.”

“Ooh,” you enjoyed the sound of that. “But your boss—”

“I am the boss. And I’m giving this to you on one condition.” He drew in a deep breath, releasing it with a smirk. “Next time you come in; I’d like to give you an incredibly detailed list of things to do. I mean—every hole in the wall joint I can think of. And you gotta do ‘em.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Every single one?”

“Every single one.”

“I don’t think I have that kind of time—”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to find time. Because it’ll be a long damn list, Reader.”

He winked at you, and you nearly melted. As he started to ring up your purchase, slipping that new copy of Tolstoy into your bag, you’d reached the deepest shade of red. Again, sometimes you could be a Casanova. You could be flirty back—but you really couldn’t find it in you. All you could muster was the personality of a smitten girl and that was what Bucky would be receiving until you found your other self. He was inviting you to come back—he was practically bribing you to come back. Yes, it was because he was a local and wanted to provide you with the hidden secrets of Brooklyn, but he wanted you to come back so he could say it.

You blinked. “How would you know I did each one on your list? Bucky, I could tell you I did everything. Are you gonna quiz me? Should I take notes?” You raised your eyebrows, leaning against the counter.

You felt the white cat again, their purr vibrating softly against your jean-covered calf. You looked down with a small smile, knowing that the cat couldn’t resist you. When you looked up you found Bucky peering over the counter down at the cat.

“That’s Alpine,” he told you, and you were glad in that moment because you were so close to giving Alpine another name. “And—I guess… I guess I’d have to be there to make sure. For certain ones specifically—I’ll arrange it from solo to co-op missions just in case.”

“I-I, yeah.” You sputtered along, grinning from ear-to-ear almost. “You might.”

You don’t remember much about the transaction—but you quickly shoved your card and the receipt into your purse before you were tempted to look at the price. When Bucky handed the bag of books to you, his pointer finger brushed against your knuckles and your knees nearly buckled. You sighed.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you said, nervously. “For the discount. And for the free book.”

He flashed another smile. “You’re welcome, Reader. Don’t forget the deal.”

“I will not.” Because you were sure he just asked you out—you were certain that he had. You wished he were asking you out. You’d understand if he meant in an utterly innocent way; he wanted you to enjoy Brooklyn the way he did, and you were okay with that. But, God, you wanted it to be because he wanted to ask you out.

The chime of the bell announced your exit, and you took your time strolling past the window. You were so glad that the Second Hand had been in your periphery that day. You were gleeful at the fact that, somehow, you’d found a place to love in Brooklyn.

Bucky and the Second Hand—and Alpine—had become your thing.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #james buchanan barnes x reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #( bucky barnes. )#( fanfiction. )#Alpine uses they/them pronouns cause i don't know their gender #bucky don't flirt with customers #lemme speak to your manager #bookshop au

144 notes · View notes

wolfish-trickster · 3 years

Text

Old oak tree

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,3K+

Warning: typos, angst, itsi bitsi fluff at the end

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @forevernthensome @kozkaboi

"So, what do you think?" Loki asked spreading his arms and showing you his new outfit.

You shrugged. "Looks good to me."

"Don't you think it's too much?" he checked himself in your mirror.

"Is anything EVER too much for you?" you asked with a smirk.

"I just...I really like her and I don't want to mess up."

"You won't, trust me," you reassured him.

He hugged you tightly, to your surprise. "What would I do without such a friend like you?"

The younger prince bolted from your room faster than you could answer. You sighed and closed the doors after him so no one could hear your heart breaking, again.

You and Loki were friends. Best friends actually. But you started to to see him more than that years ago. And you hated it.

You already accepted the fact he'll see you as only his supportive friend. If only he could stop asking you to help him woo his love interests. He always asked your opinion on everything. Flowers, his outfits, gifts he wanted to give them.

Once he even asked to kiss you so he could practice. It was in general your and his first kiss ever. Your head spinned when your life long best friend and crush in one person gently placed his lips on yours, his tongue sliding to your mouth. When he pulled away he just mumbled simple 'thanks' and ran away, leaving you flustered and with a face on fire under your favourite tree. At first you often sat under that old oak, remembering the feeling and smiling to yourself. However with every new interest of Loki you started to avoid the poor tree. Hate it even. You hated how it represented how you foolishly threw away your first kiss.

You still stood by Loki. What else could you do? Confess your feelings? As if that'll help.

You started to see pattern in his interests and you never managed to tic the boxes. You were only average among everything; intelligence, looks, skills. There were hundred and one people who were exactly like you. Loki would never choose you over a noble woman or man he was used to courting.

Now, when you were finally alone, you could think about what are you going to do about your never ending crush. You layed down on your bed and stared at your white ceiling. You already tried to avoid him in hopes you will loose your feelings for him, that didn't work. You wrote down every negative thing about him, trick your mind he isn't a good boyfriend material. Didn't work either since he is the kindest person you've ever met. And the gentlest. And nicest. With the most beautiful smile and eyes. And arms that give the coziest hugs.

"Fuck," you whispered and closed your eyes. It always ended like this. No matter how much you tried, you could never see him as something less than a great person he was.

Suddenly you heard his melodic laughter under your windows. As well as some girl's. You couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what? If he can date around, so can I!" you told yourself in pure desperation to get rid of the jealousy and pain from knowing he will never love you.

First thing you did was hiding everything he gave you as a child, every little trinket you cherished in false thought he's starting to catch feelings for you. You removed all of it from your shelves and put in a big box sliding it under your bed.

There, now onto the more complicated part: the oak of your very first kiss. Your heart ached with every step you took towards it. It was already old and not so full of life like it used to be. Its bark was dry and overgrown with moss. The poor thing didn't have enough energy to grow its leaves as viscoulsy like few years ago. No one visited it anymore. It was lonely just like you.

"Looks like you're few years from death, old buddy," you patted its trunk. "Let's end your missery now."

You were on your way back to your room holding a little pot filled with soil. Nothing was growing out yet, but in few months you were expecting a small oak sappling to grow. You couldn’t say goodbye to your old wooden friend just yet.

There, deep in halls, sounds are resonating. Sounds you soon came to hate. Kissing, Loki chuckling, some woman moaning, door closing.

You sadly looked down at the pot and took the biggest diversion to your room, avoiding coming any near Loki's bedroom.

Few days later you still avoided Loki. That time was the first time he had brought anyone to his bedroom to do....that. It was good he didn't ask you to practice on you. If he did, you would've.... you don't know what would you do. Probably panic first and get angry next.

While Loki was, let's say, occupied you got closer to one soldier, Arne. He was kind, tall, ginger with freckles and very skilled fighter. He wasn't the smartest but he had a sense of humor and always tried to make you laugh. He wasn't Loki though, but it didn't matter. At least you kept yourself busy, so your heart could heal.

Right now you were in stables with Arne. He was telling you how he got his first horse when he finished his soldier training few decades back. You were braiding his mare's mane as he stood right beside you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. Everything was at peace.

"Y/N! Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?" came Loki's voice.

Almost everything.

You turned your head towards his voice. He was rushing towards you until he stopped when he noticed Arne standing so close to you.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked a little irritated.

"Well-"

"It doesn't matter, I have to show you something," he took you by the hand and started dragging you out of the stables only for you to slip your hand from his and hugging Arne. "See you tomorrow," you waved him goodbye and walked out, Loki trailing after you.

"So, what is it you wanted to show me?"

"What the Hel was that?" he pointed at you and behind him at the stables, completely ignoring your question.

"A hug. Why?"

"Since when are you hugging random soldiers? And since when are you even hanging out with low ranking soldiers like Hofferson?"

"His first name is Arne, and I'm allowed to hug whoever I want. Same goes for hanging out. Now are you going to show me the thing or can I return to him?"

"Right," he remember, took your hand again and ran to gardens. To the familiar now empty corner. "Look what some bastard did," he pointed at the wide oak stump.

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? Oh, darling," he threw his arms around you. You fought with yourself internally to not hug him back, but being close to him after a very long time felt just too good not to give in.

"I'm so sorry. I know it was your favourite tree. I will find the culprit and-"

"You don't have to," you interrupted and pulled yourself away from him.

"I do! That tree meant a lot to me too. I was actually working on a spell to bring life into it again."

"And how exactly did it mean a lot to you? I never saw you even near that tree."

Loki stuttered. "E-ehm, we had our first kiss underneath it."

"As if that meant anything to you," you muttered.

"What?"

"I said it was old and it had to be cut down."

"Well you could've asked me before you killed it," he spat rather angrily.

"My family planted it, I get to do whatever I want with it!"

"Did it mean so little to you?"

"No. On the contrary, it meant the world to me! That's why I had to cut it down!"

"What? Why? I don't understand you," he shook his head.

"Well excuse me for wanting to destroy the biggest thing that reminded me how my best friend stole my first kiss!"

"Stole? I asked and you complied!" Loki defended himself.

You groaned. "Okay fine, you didn't steal it, I lost it. Now can I go back to Arne?"

"Lost it?! Have you got any idea how many people would murder for a kiss from a prince? And why do you want to go to Arne so desperatelly? You never talked to soldiers before, so why the change of heart?"

"I like him, he's nice and courageous and-"

"I forbid it."

"What?!" you couldn't believe your ears.

"I forbid it. You can't whore around with soldiers like him, think about your reputation!" he crossed his arms infront of him.

"Whore around? Look who's talking! You've had at least 5 lovers in the past month!"

"T-that's different."

"And how exactly is it different, Loki?"

"I-"

You waited. Nothing came out of him.

"That's what I thought."

Few days passed, you continued avoiding Loki and he started to close off from everyone. Occasionally you saw some green sparkles in a shape of a person sitting on the oak stump. You figured that must be Loki under cloaking spell. All you wanted to do was run to him and hug him, he looked so depressed and lonely. Just like you were when you saw him with all those lovers in the past.

You felt bad for him. But you doubted he felt bad for you back then. Or now. So you always walked pass him, pretending you didn't notice him.

*knock knock*

You looked up from watering your growing oak sapling. Who could it be? You weren't expecting anyone. "Who's there?"

"Guess," came a dull voice.

You put away your watering kettle and hid the pot behind courtains. "Come in, Loki."

He stepped inside wearing one of his ordinary clothes, his hair wasn't slicked back like he used to style it and he had apologetic expression on his face.

"Y/N, I came to apologize."

Loki is apologizing. Now that's new. "What for?" you asked teasingly.

He sighed. "For saying you were whoring around. It wasn't right from me," he pulled out your favourite flower from behind his back, "friends?"

You took the flower. "Okay, friends."

Loki clapped his hands excitedly. "Great, now that we're at good terms with eachother I-"

"No!" you silenced him. You knew there had to be a catch. He made up with you just so he could ask you for help. Just like always.

"You don't even know what I was about to say."

"Oh, I think I do. You want me to give you advices again. Well, guess what? That's not happening. So you can, as mortals say, do 180 and walk out that door," you pointed behind him to your bedroom door.

Loki held out his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to ask you that! I just want to talk."

"Oh," now you felt stupid. "Okay, a little talk never killed anyone I guess."

"Thank you," he let his hands fall down and took a walk around your room. "I see you were redecorating," he noticed all of his trinkets he gave you were gone. He assumed you most likely threw them out or burned them. Just the thought of it hurt him.

"Yeah," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself. "I still have them, I just didn't want to look at them anymore."

He turned towards you. "Why? First the tree, then my little gifts. What's next, me?" he joked to ease both your and his growing anxiety.

You chuckled lightly and shook your head. "No, don't worry."

He walked to you and put his hand on your shoulders. "Then why? We're best friends, right? We can tell eachother everything."

"That's exactly what I can't do," you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and slowly removed them.

"Why? Do you... do you hate me?"

"What? Heavens no! I could never hate you!"

He sighed from relief. "Good. But then why? I can't think of a single reason you would do those things. Wait. On a second thought," he held his chin between his thumb and index finger and looked down like he always does when he was thinking. He shook his head then and chuckled to himself. "No, that's absurd. You could never be in love with me."

You involuntarily tensed up. He noticed.

"Or could you?"

Tears started burning in your eyes as you nodded. "Sorry."

"For how long?"

After few minutes of thinking you shook your head. "I don't remember when it happened. It just happened."

"Well, when did you realise then? That you...you know? Are in love with me?"

"Few days before the oak kiss, I guess."

"But that was decades ago! This long time and I never saw," he facepalmed.

"And you...?" you asked hopefully. Maybe he will tell you he loves you too, right?

He sighed. "I'm sorry Y/N. I love you, but not like that. You have always been like a little sister I always wanted."

You nodded. Of course he doesn't love you like that. How even could he? You turned away from him and let some tears escape.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rubbed your back. "We can still be friends. Nothing will change between us. I promise."

But it already did. Everything changed for you. How could you even look him in the eye?

You wiped away your tears and put on a perfectly rehearsed fake smile. "Okay, I can work with that," you offered him your hand, "friends?"

Instead of shaking it he hugged you. "Friends."

You hugged him back and let your fake smile fall. Your naive little self told you he will change his mind in the future. You are already so close with eachother. Closer than anyone you know. It's just a matter of time. For now, you can only dream.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki angst #loki x female reader #loki x reader angst #my writer's block is finally gone and I can write again!#wohooo!#loki oninson #loki laufejarson #loki

125 notes · View notes

detectivehannibal · 3 years

Text

Warm Beverages

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Brief sexual reference.

Requested by: @no-homo-hank

Prompt: hey!! excited to see you’re writing again 🥰 honestly anything fluffy would be great with hannibal ,, im craving somethin soft. maybe some winter cuddling and hot chocolate making? thanks!!

Word Count: 1,064

“I take joy in being busy.”

The snow was steadily falling from the gray sky outside the comfort of your home. Little white flurries and decorative snowflakes fluttered through the air, sticking to every surface outside. The ground was coated with the cold snow that was expected to continue well into the next day. It was dreary, miserable weather. There wasn’t much to do other than stay inside and have a day to yourself. You were perfectly fine with this.

Hannibal, though, wasn’t a fan. He was extremely active, and he preferred to be occupied as often as possible. The fact that he was stuck inside with nothing to do was a bit maddening. However, it helped that you were staying over and keeping him company. If you weren’t there, you were convinced he’d get himself into something he didn’t need to.

The living room was possibly the coziest room in his home. He always kept it clean and always had a fire going when it was cold outside. You were perfectly content to lounge around on the sofa with him all day. He had finally accepted that he wasn’t getting out of the house today, so he settled in nicely.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him as you snuggled further next to him, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The only sounds in the room were coming from the crackling fireplace and the occasional house creak. Even though Hannibal was more at ease now, he began to get a little shifty after a while. You looked up from the book that was nestled in your hands, holding your place. You looked up at him, knowing he was getting antsy.

“It’s only been half an hour since you sat down.” You announced.

“I’m aware.” He mumbled.

He had done just about every chore and task he could possibly do around the house. The laundry was folded and put away, the windows were so clean you could almost accidentally try to walk through them, the counters were spotless. He had done everything.

You returned your attention back to your book, but soon put it away when Hannibal’s heavy sigh interrupted you.

“Do you need something to do?” You asked sassily.

He didn’t say anything. He’d rather die than admit a weakness. You laughed heartily and tapped his shoulder playfully.

“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you go make us something?” You suggested.

His eyes brightened as if that was the best idea he had heard all day. He scampered into the kitchen, almost taking you off of the couch with him. The living room grew quiet again, but you caught the clatter of pots and pans every now and then. You were able to finally finish your chapter peacefully, and just in the nick of time too.

Hannibal returned soon enough with two mugs with some sort of steaming liquid inside. You tossed your book side, sitting up and reaching for one of them.

“Okay, chef. What do we have here?” You asked.

The scent of chocolate filled your nose, a delightful rush coming over you. You sat with your legs folded, Hannibal taking his previous position once more.

“It’s heated cocoa powder with milk, vanilla, and sugar.” He explained.

You raised a brow.

“You mean hot chocolate?”

He shrugged.

“Yes.”

You laughed again, sipping gingerly. You groaned happily at the feel of the warm beverage filling your belly and spreading over you. He really knew how to make anything. The sweet taste was heavenly over your tastebuds. Even Hannibal was impressed. His arm raised to invite you back to his side, to which you obliged.

“Do you think you can handle sitting here long enough to let yourself finish your drink?” You asked jokingly.

“Of course I can. I don’t lack self control.” He stated.

“A day off isn’t a bad thing, Hanni. You could use it.” You countered.

“I take joy in being busy.” He explained.

You couldn’t argue with him there. He was very prideful in being busy and successful. As he should. He worked hard for everything. He drained the rest of his drink in record time, you scoffed as you slowly sipped yours.

“I know you do. I just don’t like it when you overwork yourself, you know?” You expressed.

“I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that I know my limits,” He told you; “I’m well set as long as I can find something to do.”

You could feel his stare on you. He liked to take in your presence. It made you nervous in the beginning, but you eventually learned that was one of his many love languages. You knew that everyone showed love differently. Hannibal seemed to tap into all of them. He surely was an acts of service kind of guy. He also showed physical touch and words of affirmation. He was kind of the full package.

His gaze raked over your eyes, your skin, the way your sweater brought out your best features. You were a perfect human being to him. He never thought of you having physical flaws, or any flaws for that matter. You were almost too perfect in his eyes. He craved perfection. He strived for it. It was no wonder he was drawn to you. You were everything he had ever wanted.

His hand fiddled with the hem of your sweater as he watched you. Your lips gently wrapped around the rim of the mug as you took your final sip to empty it. He felt his heart jump when suddenly your eyes met. He watched your pupils shrink in size as you looked away from the light of the fire to look at him.

He casually took the empty mug from you, setting it aside as if he hadn’t just been staring at you. He kissed you before you could ask any questions, the taste of chocolate still prevalent. You shifted to straddle his hips, taking his face in your hands. His arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him. You broke away briefly, your lips just barely touching his. You felt his heartbeat racing through his loosely buttoned shirt. Knowing him, he could probably smell yours.

You seductively spoke before delving back into him, ensuring that you’d be busy at least for the next hour.

“I think we just found something we can do.”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #Hannibal TV #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter imagine #detectivehannibal

298 notes · View notes

thenocturnalmushroom · 3 years

Text

A Cozy Night - Touyuki - CCS

Tags: Fluff; Domestic; Domestic Fluff; Self-Indulgent; Established Relationship

Read on AO3

It was almost eleven at night and Yukito still having no desire to go to sleep. He was comfortably sitting under his kotatsu, accompanied by a good show on his laptop, a tin of cookies and some delicious hot tea – a perfect combo to a winter night. His plan was to finish watching the said show that same night, even if he had to stay up until dawn; it was a Friday night and he had no class nor job the next morning so he had no worries regarded his bedtime. Besides, the show was worth the loss of some sleep hours.

The silver-haired boy was completely immersed into the story, anxiously nibbling at a sugar cookie and barely noticing how his body was slowly leaning toward the laptop while his almost unblinking eyes refused to go away from the screen. The first real confront of the main character and the true villain was finally happening, and it was intense. Yukito had been waiting for it for the last seven episodes and he didn’t want to miss even the smallest detail; he was sure that everything about that scene would be important later in the story. His focus was completely stolen by the show and everything else was forgotten for some long, long minutes.

And that was why the boy nearly jumped out of his skin when the bell of his house rang, letting the half-eaten cookie slip from between his fingers.

It took him only a second to recover from the startle. He quickly paused the video and retrieved the cookie from the table, throwing it into his mouth, before heading to the front door, still chewing on the sweet. Being a little past eleven now, Yukito could only think about one single person who would come to visit him this late at night - and it made his heart singing inside his chest.

He hurried to open the door, and there was no surprise when he found Touya waiting outside, his hands shoved into the pockets of his heavy coat and a soft smile touching his lips.

“Hey!”, his boyfriend greeted him so casually, as if he wasn’t clearly freezing in that cold night.

“Touya!”, Yukito exclaimed his name for both the pleasure of saying it and as slight scold. He gave a step aside. “Hurry inside or you’ll end up getting sick!”

Touya wasted no time and complied. While Yukito closed and locked the door again, Touya carefully landed his backpack on the floor right before taking off his shoes, placing them besides his boyfriend’s ones.

“What are you doing here?”, the silver-haired boy asked while helping the other to take out his coat, which was slightly wet from the light snow that was falling outside. “I thought your shift at the restaurant would only end around midnight.”

“Things were too slow today, so my boss decided to close earlier.”, Touya casually passed his hands through his damped hair, shaking it softly. He had strongly regraded not having brought with him an umbrella or at least a bonnet.

Yukito quickly run to the cupboard to fetch a towel for him.

“If you have some spare time, you should have gone home and rested. You’ve been working harder than the usual this week.”, he said, handing the towel to Touya. It wasn't like he wasn't happy to see the other boy. Not at all. The week had been so busy that they had barely had time to meet outside the few classes they share together. However, Yukito couldn’t help but worry about Touya and his health; he would gladly sacrifice some of their time together if that meant that Touya was getting a proper time to rest, recovering all the energy he had spent between classes and all his numerous part-time jobs. He knew his boyfriend was strong, but he was still human.

“I think I can rest here pretty well, can’t I?”, Touya put the towel round his neck and gave a step forward to close even more the already short distance between them. Gently, he touched Yukito’s face, a cold hand on a warm skin, giving to both of them a pleasant shiver. Looking unbothered by the coolness of his boyfriend’s hand, Yukito covered it with his own hand, rubbing his cheek against Touya’s palm as if to lend it some warmth in a tender, affectionate gesture. As tender and affectionate as the smile they both wore on his lips. “Besides, I am home.”

Yukito’s eyes widened for a moment, his face feeling suddenly hot; he wasn’t waiting for a response like that. He felt a bubbling sensation being born inside his stomach and rise through his throat, taking the shape of a soft, cheerful giggle. “Tou-ya, you’re such a sappy!”

“Who are you calling sappy?”, Touya frowned, using the hand he was resting on the other boy’s face to pinch his cheek lightly. He looked annoyed, but Yukito knew it was only a facade; he could see all the softness around his boyfriend’s dark eyes, at the tips of his thin lips, almost imperceptibly turned upwards. And it only made him laugh even more.

Seeing Yukito like this made Touya’s frown melted into the fondest of the smiles. The urge of kissing the silver-haired boy he always feels whenever he sees his face – or thinks about him – only intensified at the that moment and Touya decided to just go for it. He leaned forward, now with both of his hand gingerly cupping Yukito’s face, bringing him closer and closer and closer, so ready to taste his lips once again, always so soft and sweet.

But the kiss never came.

“No! No! No! Rest first, kisses second!”, Yukito declared and ,with an unexpected quick movement, he turned his boyfriend around before putting his hand on his back to gently lead him to the living room.

“Yuki, what the…”

“You go rest and I’ll make some sandwiches and pour some tea for us. You can kiss me as much as you want later.”

“Fine.”, Touya agreed in defeat. It wasn’t exactly what he had planned, but it sounded good enough for him.

Touya took a place at the kotatsu, finishing drying his hair while listening Yukito in the kitchen preparing their snacks. He thought about offering some help to his boyfriend, but he quickly dismissed the idea; Yukito had insisted so much to him to take a rest that the boy would, for sure, kicked him out of the kitchen in no time. Without much to do, he stared at the laptop over the table, finding a paused image of what looked like an intense fight scene on its screen, and started trying to guess what this show was about.

It didn’t take much time for Touya to start feeling bored. He started darting looks at the open door, as if doing so Yukito would hurry up and come back to keep him company. He had been craving his boyfriend presence during that entire hectic week; they had had so little time to spend together these past days and Touya was eager to compensate for the lost time, for all the hugs and kisses and smiles they wasn’t able to share throughout the week.

A few more minutes had passed and Touya decided that being scolded and kicked out of the kitchen by Yukito would worth it.

However, none of it came to him.

“Ah, Toya! Great timing!”, exclaimed Yukito, his hands holding a tray piled up with half dozen sandwiches. Resting over the sink top, another tray was waiting to be picked up, this one carrying two mugs and a steaming teapot. The sweet essence of the tea was hanging on the air, hitting Toya’s noise with the fresh smell of peaches and mint. “Can you pick the other tray, please?”

Carrying a tray each, Touya and Yukito came back to the living room and, without any waste of time, they set the table for their almost-midnight snack, sitting shoulder to shoulder under the heat of the kotatsu. Touya asked about the movie on the laptop screen and Yukito gladly talked all about it while they were eating, making sure to avoid any greater spoilers.

“That show sounds pretty cool.”, Touya said, between a bite and another. If he were being honest, he wasn’t sure if the plot of the show actually sounded that great or if it was Yukito’s enthusiasm about it that picked up his interest on it.

“If you want to, we can watch it together! I wouldn’t mind rewatching the previous episodes with you.”, his smile was so warm, so cozy when he made the offer that Touya found himself completely unable to answer anything but yes.

“Sure! Do you wanna start right now?” and the silver-haired boy didn’t need any other word to draw his laptop closer and click back on the very first episode of the series.

Rewatching the show was still pretty fun, but having Touya by his side was the best part of it. And it wasn’t only because now he had someone to share his thoughts about it. Having Touya’s arm around him, involving his body with his warmth, his scent, his strong but gentle presence, filled Yukito’s heart with the coziest of the feelings.

He felt whole. He felt safe.

He felt at home.

The same could be told about Touya. The boy could feel all the tiredness of the week melting away, leaving his shoulders lighter and his chest full of warmness and the sweetest peace. He nestled his boyfriend comfortably into his arms and rested his cheek on the top of his head, breathing slowly, absorbing Yukito’s presence and letting it impregnate his lungs, his heart, his whole being.

It was like magic; something fantastic and hard to describe, but so easy to feel – to get immerse in.

Yukito was his safe place and Touya always does his best to be the same to Yukito.

In their small, quiet world, Touya could finally feel truly relaxed, leaving all the stress and exhaustion from that long, long week behind and embrace the serenity of the moment. He allowed his body to go limp and his eyelids to get heavier and heavier, giving in to a sweet sleepiness state.

“I think we should go sleep.”, Yukito suggested, a hint of laughter in his voice. “We can watch the rest of the show tomorrow.”

Touya yawned. “Good idea.”

The taller boyfriend unwrapped his arms from around the other to stretch his body a bit, letting the silver-haired boy free to lean toward and close his laptop. But, before he could do anything else, such as get up and start cleaning up the table, Touya enlaced his waist once again, keeping him close to himself.

“Hey, don’t think I forgot about the kisses you’ve promised me!”, Touya smiled and cupped Yukito’s face with one of his hands, his thumb tenderly stroking his boyfriend’s cheek.

Yukito’s eyes lighted up like a moon finally appearing from behind a thick layer of clouds; so bright, so beautiful, so powerful against the darkness. Toya nearly lost his breath when he smiled back at him, the same smile that made him fall in love so many years ago. Sweet and vibrant. So sincere and genuine, coming from his core and growing until it blossom into his lips.

Those warm, soft lips that Touya was dying to kiss. So, that was what he did it.

Toya leaned forward and kissed Yukito exactly the way he was waiting for the whole day: slowly and affectionate, enjoying every single second of it. There was no hurry; they had all the time in the world - their private world. They could just allowed themselves to get lost in each other’s touch, to dive in each other’s warmth, in the sweetness of the other’s mouth. To Yukito, Touya’s lips had always tasted like peaches, but, somehow, they tasted especially sweet that night; he wondered if the tea they had had earlier would have something to do with that. Coincidentally, Touya found Yukito’s lips softer than ever, more tempting than ever.

“Satisfied?”, Yukito asked with a soft giggle when their lips parted. Even with their mouths parted, they kept their faces close, forehead to forehead, the tip of their noses softly brushing to the other in a loving gesture, while their bodies followed the example and still tangled in an embrace so tight that one could feel the other’s heart beating fast against their own.

“Not quite. I could have a dozen more of it, but I’m so tired right now that I think I’ll save them for tomorrow.”, as to emphasize his words, Touya closed his eyes and let his head slowly slip until it found the curve of Yukito’s neck, resting there with a content sigh. He could feel his boyfriend’s body shaking in a quiet laughter.

Yukito landed a gentle kiss on the top of Touya’s head, whispering against his dark strands: “They will be waiting for you in the morning.”

Hearing those words, Touya smiled and released the weight of his tired body over Yukito’s. Caught by surprise, the silver-haired boy’s body easily gave in with the sudden extra weight and lay down on his back with his boyfriend on his top, making both boys laugh.

Touya rested his head on Yukito’s chest and hugged his wait, while Yukito wrapped his arms around his shoulder, using one of his hands to stroke Touya’s hair in the most tender way, giving his boyfriend some pleasant goosebumps.

“We should go to bed, you know? Or we’re gonna catch a cold.”, Yukito said, but made no effort to get up or made his boyfriend to do so.

“We’ll be fine. We have the kotatsu and each other to keep ourselves warm the whole night.”, Touya’s voice was heavy with sleep, getting lower and lower with every word he said. Yukito only answer was a soft giggle and another kiss on his head.

They both felt so comfortable, so in peace resting in each other’s arms. They let the pounding of the other’s heart be their lullaby, leading them to a sweet slumber.

“Tou-ya~!”, Yukito called him with what was left of his consciousness.

“Hm?”

“Love you.”

Touya smiled to himself. “I love you, too.”

#Cardcaptor Sakura #CCS #Kinomoto Touya #Tsukishiro Yukito #Touyuki #Touya x Yukito #Fanfic #Fic #AO3

62 notes · View notes

blog4snape · 4 years

Text

Boggey (1)

Pairing: Student! Severus Snape x F! Professor! Reader

Word Count: ~2.5K

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (no filth here)

Summary: Hogwarts student Snape (18) finds a boggart in the divination classroom one night and has a mental breakdown, divination professor (22) comforts him.

Warnings: character having a mental breakdown, sev being a qt, and fluff

Rating: Citrus (no filth here, this is a platonic fic)

Date written: 8/20/2020

~~~~~~

February 1978

“Thank you for volunteering to do this, Severus.” You grinned at your student, the two of you sitting at a table in the center of the room.

He quirked a corner of his lip and gave a quick nod.

“Normally I give these tasks to students in detention,” You sighed as you polished another shell, “But lately there just haven’t been any students misbehaving badly enough to warrant a detention, and I can’t postpone this lesson any longer.”

He nodded silently and set down the smooth shell he was working on, grabbing a rough one from the crate.

“I shouldn’t complain that my students haven’t been misbehaving, normally I dislike giving someone a reward for someone else’s punishment, but so be it-” You poured more polish into the cloth and continued the menial task of polishing turtle shells. ‘If only someone invented a spell to do this.’ You thought to yourself, scoffing at your reddened fingertips. “-Oh! Sorry I’m rambling-”

“It’s okay.” He answered quickly as he glanced with a quirk of his brow, as if he was offended you’d even apologize.

“Thank you again. You can forget about the essay due on Monday. Don’t tell anyone else.” You winked at him. “Twenty points to Slytherin.”

He raised his chin and gave you a conspiratory smirk, “Thank you, Professor.”

You chuckled, “Not a problem, Severus.”

The two of you working diligently through the first crate of bones and shells helped speed along the process; however, it was getting rather late, the candles surrounding you were steadily shrinking and the room was growing comfortably dim.

“Let’s take a break.” You stood up and stretched out your back. “The second box is in that corner, could you bring it to the table? It shouldn’t be as heavy as the first. I’m going to go make some tea. Your choice today.” You spoke as you shuffled off, opposite the direction of the box.

“Green.” He announced, cracking each knuckle individually as he stood up to grab the box.

You riffled through the cabinets and put the green tea canister on the make-shift counter. “Could you open it and see if it’s the right one, love?” You asked him. He hummed in response. You heard him shuffling through crates and boxes in the far corner.

It happened nearly all at once. The whistle of the kettle set it off, and then soon after was the most gut-wrenching growl you could ever hear. It wasn’t the growl of an ordinary stray mutt that found itself on the grounds. Right after, you heard Severus scream bloody murder.

You whipped your head around and saw a werewolf standing outside of the crate and Severus frozen in place. You rushed to him, bounding across the array of turtle shells and animal bones on the wooden floor. As soon as you pointed your wand to fight the werewolf, it took on an all-too-familiar form that made all of the blood in your body, just on fire a moment ago, turn cold as ice. Quickly putting two and two together you vanished the boggart, shouting “Riddikulus!” at the top of your lungs. It turned into an innocent stuffed animal, before vanishing altogether.

You finally let out a breath and closed your eyes. For a moment, everything was silent. You turned around to see Severus behind you. You closed your mouth as soon as you saw the tears streaming down his face. You reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Sev-” You started, only to be cut off by a strangled sob as he grappled onto your shawl as if his life depended on it, collapsing onto the floor in a heap of robes. You followed shortly thereafter, kneeling and holding him.

“Severus, what’s wrong?” You asked softly, as you stroked his hair. He responded only in louder sobs as the tears soaked through your robes. ‘That was the wrong approach,’ You chided yourself in your head. You breathed in slowly and tried again, “Shhh, it’s alright. It’s gone now. You’ll never see it again.” You whispered into his hair, rubbing his back.

He was hiccuping and struggling for air, but made no move to let go and try to breath in. You grabbed his shoulders firmly and pushed him away slightly, so you could look at him.

“Hey, hey- look at me-” You repeated softly until he stared at you. “Thank you, lovely. Follow my breathing.” You put a hand on his chest and one between his shoulder blades, and sat up on your knees, straightening your back self-consciously. You took a long, slow breath through your nose and waited for him to do the same. You held it for a moment, before exhaling through your mouth slowly. He did the same. “Excellent job, just like that. Breath with me.” You praised him. He gave a desperate nod, and you two continued the same breathing pattern before he finally managed to calm himself down. You smiled at him and stroked his cheek briefly before pulling him into a much less desperate hug this time.

“You’re alright, you’re alright.” You cooed into his shoulder. “You did such a great job.” You praised, rubbing his shoulder blades.

His tears returned, but this time without the hungry gulps of air. His hair tickled your nose and he held onto you tighter.

Focusing on his now quiet breaths, you almost forgot about the kettle until you heard it bubble and boil over. You fought your natural urge to run over and take it off of the heat, as you didn’t want to startle Severus anymore than he already had been. You figured he was more important than some boiled water, right now. His grip on you loosened and he started furiously rubbing at his red eyes with the sleeve of his robes. You gently took his hands and shook your head. You summoned a handkerchief from your robes and handed it to him. He nodded his thanks, with a loud sniffle accompanied. Smiling in response, you gave his hair a quick stroke before standing from the floor and walking over to the mess of boiling water continuing to spit out of the kettle.

With a quick flick of your wand, it was cleared up and the green tea was in the preferred cups. Last week you had seen a teacup in Diagon Alley that made you think of Severus, and since he often joined you after classes, you figured he should have a teacup that reminds him he is always welcome. The teacup was black, with several white roses and green snakes curling around the mug like vapor curls out of the steaming drink. Every day since then, you’ve served him tea in that cup, on a matching saucer. Turning around, you saw him sitting at the table again. Handing him his cup, full of the tea he chose, he gave a little smile and he thanked you quietly.

He was shivering, even the hot tea did not help sate it. You took off your shawl and wrapped it around his shoulders. He curled into it immediately and covered it around himself like saran wrap. The two of you sat in silence, sipping tea.

“Let’s stop for tonight.” You said, as your tea was finished. You looked at the clock. “Oh, Severus, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to keep you after curfew.”

Severus looked at the clock, also a bit surprised. He opened his mouth to say something but then shut it again.

“Here, I’ll walk you back in case Filch finds you.” You announced, standing up and putting the porcelain cups away.

You turned around and expected Severus to follow you, only to see that he wasn’t. He was sitting at the table, covered in your shawl, hunched over, and trembling still. He was staring at you, brows knit. You walked back to the table. “Severus? What’s the matter?”

He shook his head softly. You focused on the strands of his hair peeking out of the shawl. “I-” He started, before closing his mouth. He looked down at his lap, biting his lips, and continuing to shake his head. The strands of hair caught outside of the shawl waved around with his head. “No.” He stated, plainly.

“No… to what?” You tilted your head.

“I can’t go to my dorm… I can’t-” He bit his lip so hard it turned white. He got smaller, his shoulders rounded and he hid in the shawl. “I don’t-” He released his lip, the white faded quickly and turned into a deep sanguine.

You kneeled before him, and held out of your hand. He tentatively released his grip on the shawl and gave you one of his hands. You took it in both of yours, rubbing his bruised and scarred knuckles with your thumbs. You sighed softly, “You don’t want to go back to your dorm?”

He shook his head.

“Would you be against sleeping in my office?”

He shook his head and let out a quiet ‘please.’

“Alright.” You gave a quick nod and patted his hand, releasing it. You stood up, and gave him your arm to stand. He quickly took it, but let it go as soon as he found balance and stood up.

After a relatively quiet walk to your office, you opened the door to the scent of the day: pumpkin spice, cinnamon, and nutmeg. You held open the door for Snape. The candles lit up every corner and inch of the room as the both of you waltzed in and incense started to burn. The pit of pillows, blankets and cushions to the side of your office had to be the coziest spot in the entire castle, and it’s a little embarrassing to admit how many times you collapsed on the floor there instead of making it to your actual bed in your chambers. You closed the door with a bit too much force, startling Severus and the odds and ends - not all related to divination - that decorate your shelf, as both of the aforementioned victims jumped and shook slightly. Severus whipped around to face you, with wide eyes that resembled a doe.

“Oh, sorry darling, I didn’t mean to slam the door.” You apologized, scolding yourself in your head. He released a breath and nodded in reassurance, rolling his shoulders back.

You went around the room and picked up some extra quilts that were sprawled on the butterscotch-colored desk chair and the mulberry-colored couch behind it.

He had taken off his robe and folded it in his hands, but kept your shawl on.

“Here love, you can sleep in the pit. It’s more comfortable than that old couch anyways.” You took his robes from him and placed them on a seldom-bare spot on your cluttered desk. He was still in his school uniform and shoes.

“Do you want to get some night clothes from your dorm? I can walk with you there.”

He shook his head.

“Alright, whatever you prefer. I just want you to feel comfortable.”

He nodded his thanks and toed off his shoes before climbing into the pit, cocooning himself in your shawl amongst all of the other quilts, covers, pillows, and soft things.

You waved your wand and started a fire in the hearth. You left for a moment and set a cup of tea and a glass of water down near the pit. Extinguishing the other candles around the room, you kneeled next to his head, barely poking out of the many blankets and stroked his hair for a moment. He wordlessly leaned into your touch.

“I’ll come back to wake you in the morning before breakfast. Need anything before I go?” You spoke softly. His head shot up out of the covers, pillows and cushions falling around him like if he emerged out of a pool of water.

“Don’t go!” He latched onto your arm with strength rivaling a serpent’s maw.

“You don’t want to be alone tonight?” You asked.

He shook his head, cheeks flushed red. Your cheeks matched his. He relinquished his hold. A million thoughts ran a million miles per hour through your head. You desperately wanted to say ‘no this is too inappropriate-’ but you found yourself saying the word, “okay” before your mind even registered what was happening.

You took a blanket from the pit and a pillow that had been kicked to the side and as you went to stand up and move to the couch, Severus saw where you were headed and moved with the speed of a striking viper and grabbed your ankle as you walked away. You let out a quick shriek and lost your balance for just a moment, before looking down and seeing Severus staring up at you with those dark, frantic doe eyes again.

“What’s the matter, lovely?” You questioned, clutching at your racing heartbeat under your chest.

He licked his lips and blinked a few times. “Please,” His voice was so quiet, you could hardly hear it over the crackling from the fire. His eyes glittered before drowning in tears. “Hold me,” The tears ran down his face and he held your ankle even tighter. “Like how you,” He sniffled, “did in the classroom.”

You sighed. “Alright, darling.” Your brain screamed at you for being an idiot.

He finally let go of your ankle and held up the blankets for you to crawl in. You murmured a quick spell to lock the door, and then kicked off your boots and crawled into the cocoon, facing Severus. He immediately got closer and tucked his nose into your collarbone. He didn’t grab you, but he was still gripping the shawl that smelled strongly of you and wrapped around him snugly. You put an arm underneath him and held him closely, and he sighed in relief. You stroked his cheekbone, wiping his tears with your thumb.

After his tears stopped falling, you focused on the crackling of the fire and moved to run your fingers through his hair instead. His hair was full of knots so you resorted to just scratching his scalp lightly instead. He sighed again, pushing his face as close as possible to your neck.

“Thank you,” He breathed lightly, smiling softly against your neck.

“Of course, darling,” You murmured, sleepily. You stared at how the orange glow of the fire formed a halo around Severus’s black hair and felt him smile and breathe out softly against your skin. “Get some rest, lovely. I’ll be right here.” Without any second thought, you pressed a soft kiss to Severus’s forehead and fell asleep to the feeling of a giggle vibrating across on your neck and the sound of the fire crackling in front of you.

~~~

A/N: This one shot is a part of a greater story with a masterlist that I’ll post later

Read Part 2 Here!

155 notes · View notes

tmnt-mags · 4 years

Text

Raphael x Fem!Reader

Reader is April's little sister and meets the turtles through her. I changed the ages and timeline a bit just because I don't feel entirely comfortable writing the turtles as 15 year old kids. SO the turtles are 18 the reader is 17 nearing 18 and april is 27.

Warnings: some mention of parent death, but nothing else!

Part 1/ ??

Im still pretty new at writing fanfic and have only done a few and this is my very first tmnt one. Constructive criticism and nice things only please!

I didn't remember my dad. My mother gave birth to me a month before his death. I didn’t remember him but my big sister April did. She told me everything she could about him, all kinds of stories and old home videos. It's almost like I know him but I don’t. Sometimes it's sad and I wish for nothing more than to have some memories with him, but I’ve had a good life and have a great family. I’ve lived with my sister since our mom passed 2 years ago from cancer. I miss her a lot, but I like living with April and I love our apartment.

We both have a deep love for media. She is a reporter with Channel 6 and I started making youtube videos right around the time mom died. It was like a video diary back then and has since turned into something completely different, though there are the occasional personal diary type videos.

I was wearing my favorite oversized sweater. It was a deep forest green and nearly reached my knees. It was worn and a bit tattered in some places, but it was the coziest thing ever.. I was barefoot in the kitchen listening to April talking about the latest Foot Clan activity and thinking about the questions she was planning for some guy who worked on the docks. She had convinced her camera guy Vern to take her over there before they shot her morning segment.

“You’re gonna be late!” I called into the living room while putting some breakfastt in a container for her to take on the road.

“Thank you shorty,” She rushed in and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she grabbed her breakfast and rushed out of the kitchen again to grab her bag “I’ll either be back for dinner or late!”

“That's really specific April,” I mutter as a lean in the kitchen doorway and watch her check her purse. “Do you have your touchup bag and your toothbrush?”

April let out a small gasp and rushed back to the bathroom. She came back out with a bag, gathered her things and blew a kiss as she ran out the door. I let out a laugh and went to eat my own food.

I spent the day editing a new video. I just hit 700k last week so I was making a special video to celebrate. It had some songs that I had covered laid over a video of me painting a portrait of my mother and father. It was taken a year before he had died and they had gone on a weekend getaway in the Appalachian mountains.

I didn't look up until April burst through the door. It was already dark out and I hadn’t even noticed.

“I just witnessed a Foot Clan attack!” she called as she walked through the apartment.

“What? Oh my god! Are you okay?” I practically jumped up and followed her as she began pacing around the living room. “April? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! There I was at the docks trying to get some answers and then BAM! They were there!” She went on about the attack and then started about some kind of vigilante that fought them off.

“Vigilante? Are you serious?” She didn't answer, she just went into her room. I sat back down on the couch and tried to process what she had said. In the end I shook it off and went get some dinner ready.

Over the next few days April was hard to find. She seemed to be constantly on the move and didn't answer her phone. She came home talking about dad's old experiments and giant turtles, and over the next 2 days seemed to just be gone. The spire on the Sacks building fell and The Shredder, who was the leader of the Foot Clan, was arrested and Eric Sacks was revealed to have been working alongside him the whole time. It was a wild time for New York, and April was suddenly quiet about the vigilantes.

Time began to move on and April started talking about these 4 new friends she had that were brothers. They seemed like a fun nice group, and the stories she shared were great.

“So,” I started as we sat together on the couch, “when do I get to meet the brothers?”

April choked on her glass of white wine. “What? Meet them?”

“Yeah, You talk about them all the time! I would like to meet them. They’re all you’ve been talking about for like 3 weeks.” I said as I pushed her with my foot.

“Ummm,” April stopped to think and had a vague look of concern on her face, “I'm not sure actually. They’re pretty busy guys.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Uh-huh. If you don't want me to meet them just say so. I was just curious.” I turn my face away from her.

“No it's not that, It's just they’re kinda shy. They don’t really like meeting people.” April's face said that she was telling a lie.

“Okay.” I left it at that clearly something is bugging her about me meeting her friends.

April-

April went to spend some time with the boys, but couldn’t stop thinking about them meeting her little sister. How would she react? She thought to herself, ‘I fainted when I met them, and there are still times when it kinda freaks me out a bit. I don’t want my baby sister to get scared and I don’t want the boys to get hurt because of it.’ They had tried to act like April’s reaction didn’t hurt them, but she knew it did. ‘I just want everyone to be happy.’ She was sitting in the lair watching the boys fight and Mikey brought up their Christmas pop album again. She smiled, (y/n) loved music and often performed covers on YouTube. She was really good at it. She had even written her own songs but at this point refused to release or talk about them on her channel.

“April, is something troubling you?” The brunette turned, surprised to see Master Splinter.

“Oh it’s nothing really.” She paused, “Actually could we talk? I am having some trouble.” Splinter nodded and gestured for her to follow. Not answering the questioning looks of the brothers, they went into Hashi.

“The boys avoid this room as much as possible,” Splinter said with a chuckle, “they will not listen in in here.”

“Makes sense,” April laughed and sat down on a mat with Splinter while looking at the odd structures in the room, “I’m having some trouble with my sister.”

“Oh yes, little (y/n) she had only just been born. I believe your father brought her down to the lab twice in those last weeks.” He thought back fondly on the small soft baby that looked so tiny in the arms of her father but so big compared to him then. “ what is it that is wrong?”

“She wants to meet the brothers. She doesn’t know that they are turtles, but she knows I have new friends.” April said looking down, “ we are very open. We’re the only family we have left so we always know each other's friends. It’s a safety thing I guess.”

Master Splinter hummed and looked at April, who continued.

“She wants to meet them and honestly I want her to too! I think they would all get along so well and I think the boys would adore her. It would also be nice to know that there are 4 ninjas who would look out for her.” April sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“I just don’t want the boys to get hurt. What if she is afraid of them? What if she screams and calls them monsters or freaks? What if she passes out or cries. It would hurt them so much, and I don’t want to see my sister frightened anyway.” April’s shoulders slumped and she lowered her face to look across at Splinter.

“You know your sister well? Do you think she will react this way?” The rat questioned.

“I don’t know. This isn’t exactly a situation that has ever come up before or one I ever thought I would be in.” She played with her fingers in her lap and she watched him stroke his beard.

“I think you know your sister well and know what would be the best course of action.” He smiled, “I think the trouble now will be convincing the boys to risk meeting her. I have no doubt that it will be a split crowd.”

April nodded and gave a kind of exasperated smile. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Mikey and Ralph would agree, Donnie was iffy, but Leo would say no.

“Thank you Splinter. That does actually help. Do you mind if I stay in here a bit longer?” She asked.

“Go ahead child. Take your time.” Splinter got up and left the Hashi.

April sat and thought about what he had said. She thought back to everything she knew about her sister and what she knew of the boys. If her sister could be accepting she knew that they could have a great friendship. The boys were half a year older than her and they didn't know anyone their age. It would be nice for them to have that she thought. She knew Mikey would be super friendly right away, maybe even too friendly. Donnie would be polite but wary at first and a bit excited. Raph would be happy just to meet another person, but Leo would be cold. She feared that he would be distant and unapproachable and she knew her sister well enough to know she wouldn't be able to handle that.

She took her time and eventually rejoined the brothers. She brushed off their questions with a simple: “I needed advice.” She sat down with them as they all talked and joked around. Finally Donnie brought up the perfect opportunity.

“April you're lucky you don't have brothers.” He said as Mikey bombarded him with insane ideas for gadgets.

“Well I don't have any brothers but I do have a baby sister.” The turtles all turned towards her clearly shocked by this news. “She's actually about 4 months from turning 18.”

“Woah Angelcakes, We didn't know you had a lil’ sis. Is she as beautiful as you?” Mikey said while batting his eyes at her.

“I think she is absolutely gorgeous, and she sings and does art. She’s about to be a senior in high school.” April said while leaning closer to mikey. “Shes shorter than me and has curves for days. She used to be on the dance team actually.” April laughed and Mikey threw himself back and fanned himself with his hand.

“Why haven't you mentioned her?” Leo asked.

“You never asked if I had any siblings. She was born a few weeks before my dad died.” April smiled sadly at that “She actually asked if she could meet you.”

The boys seemed to freeze at that, and suddenly all eyes were on her.

“You told about us?”. Raph asked.

“Kinda. I might have left out the part about being ninja turtles, but I told her about my new friends and she wants to meet you guys.” Raph scoffed at her answer.

“So you didn't actually tell her about us.” He almost snapped at her.

“Cool it Raph.” leo warned.

“I don't wanna be looked at like a freak. She won't want to meet us when she sees us.” he stood up and walked off. April looked at the others who all looked like they wanted to disagree and agree with Raph at the same time.

“Sorry angelcakes, I'm sure baby angelcakes is great though.” Mikey shrugged.

April sat in disbelief that they all basically said no. The lair was quiet after that and she left after they ate some dinner.

She got home only to remember her sister was spending the night at her friends house. So she had the place all to herself. She let out a sigh and poured herself a tall glass of wine and sat on the couch thinking about the events of the day. She came up with a plan as she finished her cup and decided that by the end of the week they boys will have met her baby sister. She grabbed her phone and invited the boys to come hang out at her place for once this upcoming weekend. They didn't even ask if her sister would be there.

(Y/N)-

April had gone out to pick up some pizza for a late night dinner. I had school, homework, and some video editing to do and forgot to cook. April came home late and said not to worry about it and would grab some pizza. Her new favorite place didn’t offer delivery so she went to go get it. I decided that a nice hot shower sounded good and went in. I got out as I heard the front door open and close. I made my way to my room about to throw on my favorite green sweater only to remember that It had been washed and was in the dryer. So, I wrapped my towel back around me and opened my door to head out into the living room. I walked out and looked up only to meet with 4 pairs of eyes.

“Oh my bad,” I said, turning to go back to my room only to stop and turn right back around. “Ummmm…” I trailed off not sure what to say as I stared at 4 very large, very green, oddly human like turtles, all while in a bath towel that left most of my left hip exposed.

“Oh hi (y/n). I forgot to mention I had friends coming over.” April said walking into the room. “You might wanna put some clothes on though.”

“Yeah…” I said not able to look away from the very large turtle creatures sitting in the living room.

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt 2014

120 notes · View notes

yubsie · 3 years

Text

That Can Be Enough

A simple question from Sabine makes Hera and Kanan realize they probably should have made things official a while ago.

Read on AO3

or...

Hera poked her head into Sabine's room, being careful not to intrude too much into their latest crewmember's space. Anyone who'd spent that much time at an Imperial Academy had to relearn that she did deserve her own space and shouldn't expect people entering it without warning. "Kanan's making a supply run. You need anything?"

Sabine hesitated. "I should be okay."

Hera glanced around at the walls. The Ghost was home, but the bunks weren't the coziest thing right off the factory line. She'd worked on the common areas, but until recently they mostly used this room for storing extra boxes that really could have been in the cargo hold just as easily. "If you want to make this place a little more your own, you're allowed. You're sure there's not anything you need for that?"

"You mean it?"

"You're home now. We do things differently here." She wasn't going to start calling her family yet. She didn't think the girl was ready for it. But she could be, if she wanted it.

"Well in that case..." Sabine pulled out her datapad and started making a list.

"Kanan will... do his best." It was a lot of specific colours. Kanan didn't have the eye for that. "It'll be close, anyway. Any favourite foods we should be stocking up on?"

"Maiya sweets should travel okay." Sabine looked up at her. "When's your anniversary? Just so I know."

"My what?"

"Your wedding anniversary."

"Oh, I'm not..."

Sabine looked away. "Oh, sorry, I thought you and Kanan..."

"No, we're... we're just..." Now that Sabine put her on the spot, she actually wasn't sure what they were. "We're just something."

Kanan did better than she expected at getting the right colours. They were all at least close enough to the shades Sabine requested that she said she could work with them on whatever it was she was planning. So that just left them with the big discussion.

"What are we?"

"Reb... els?" Kanan asked slowly.

For a man who could sense her feelings, he could sometimes be really bad at following her. "Not the crew. You and me."

"I guess I never really thought about it. Jedi didn't."

And there were always so many other things to worry about. So much else going on. She knew she was happy with him, but she never stopped to think about actual nouns. "Sabine thought we were married."

Kanan opened his mouth. Closed it again. Opened it again. "Jedi definitely didn't."

"I know." But Kanan wasn't a Jedi anymore. He often reminded her of that. There were no Jedi anymore. Or they couldn't do any of this. "But should we?"

"Do you... want to?"

She hadn't thought about it. She couldn't put a definite timeline on when they started being... whatever it was they were. She remembered when the sex started, of course, but that wasn't all of it and it hadn't been in a long time. Somewhere along the way, the feelings had gotten bigger than that and she really didn't know when. It just felt right. Felt natural. She knew him and he knew her and they worked well together because of it.

She'd been so busy fighting a war that she hadn't even noticed their relationship becoming... well, a relationship. But when she thought about it, Sabine was definitely seeing something. "I hadn't even thought about it. It wouldn't change anything, really." They were living on the edge. Constantly on the run from the Empire. No one had enough contact information to notify the other if something went wrong on a mission. They couldn't risk visiting the sort of medical facilities that would question whether the person making decisions had any legal authority to do so.

Kanan brushed a finger along her cheek. "It would piss off the Empire if they knew."

The Jedi wouldn't approve, but the Empire would approve even less. And... she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. Hair. He was human. She wasn't. Any relationship where they looked at each other as equals would be unthinkable in the upper echelons of society. "Are you suggesting we get married just to thumb our noses at the Empire?"

"Isn't that why we do anything?"

Sometimes they did things just to keep themselves flying. But it was their motivation for a great number of things that they did. They wanted things to change, after all. "A lot of things I guess."

"Also because we love each other."

There was that. She might not be able to define their relationship, but she could feel it. Getting married would be a convenient definition, too. But mostly... they did love each other. That was, she seemed to recall, the usual reason for two people to get married. "And because we love each other."

It was easy to say they were going to make it official. The trouble with making it official while on the run from the Empire was the official part. They probably weren't in any databases. They'd managed to keep their actions fairly covert. But right after springing a cadet from the Academy? That was a good way to trip some alarms.

But it wasn't like they were planning a big blowout wedding. All the family they needed was right here on the ship. As the captain, she could technically officiate a wedding.

Not her own though. Not if they were going to do this properly. And if they were going to get married, she didn't see the sense in doing it any way but properly. There had to be officiants out there who could handle this without it becoming a trouble.

Her finger hovered over the comm. She had one contact who seemed likely to be the expert on such legal quagmires as this. Not one of the contacts that provided missions often, but she had some sort of government connection. She'd been willing to help when she needed resources for other missions in the past.

"Captain? I wasn't expecting to hear from you." Not knowing where her contact was, she hadn't expected her to pick up so quickly. For all she knew, it was the middle of the night. The standard rebel vocal distortions would hide any bleariness.

"I hope I'm not overstepping, E."

"Are you having trouble with a mission?"

"No, it's a.... personal mission." Kanan would be appalled to hear her call it that. But she was starting to realize the logistics involved were going to take it to that level. "I find myself in need of someone who can perform a wedding ceremony without tripping any background checks."

The voice modulation was not meant for the sound that her contact made at that. There was an edge to the frequency that clipped. Then E coughed and returned to her usual tone. "Yes, I should be able to find you someone. There are a lot of places on the Outer Rim that know the value of discretion."

At least it wasn't far to go. She wouldn't have been able to justify the fuel for something like that. But it might be good for them to step away from Lothal. Not for too long, of course. There was so much work to be done here. But it could confuse the Empire, throw them off their trail.

Especially if they could manage to avoid doing any active rebelling on their way. On the other hand, it would make sense to make use of the time away. A supply run, at least, even if they didn't end up picking up an actual mission on the way to the altar.

Overthrowing the oppressive regime was more of a honeymoon activity anyway.

"You need a bachelor party." Zeb didn't sound like he was in the mood to argue with it.

"Does that mean I should be throwing a bachelorette?" Sabine was settling in, at least. Enough to suggest simply ludicrous notions. She was going to fit right in with the sort of plans Kanan tended to make.

"That really won't be necessary," Hera insisted.

"Who would we even invite?" Kanan added. "We're the only people we risk seeing regularly."

They did have a lot of smuggler contacts. A few pirates. Sometimes they even worked with other rebel agents, but not often this far out. Hera didn't know where they were more active and that was entirely the point.

"We could break some out of prison. That's my kind of party."

"I was just going to suggest paintblast. Zeb's idea is way better."

She seldom found herself in a situation where people were endorsing Zeb's idea. She didn't like it.

"Come on Kanan, it's a Lasat tradition!"

"Prison breaks?" Maybe if they ever succeeded in liberating the galaxy they could call that a tradition. A hard one to continue if they eliminated the Imperial prison camps.

"Having a good old fashioned booze up. We have to celebrate your last night of freedom."

Hera shot him a dirty look, but Kanan had her back. "My last night of... from Hera?"

"I mean she's already the captain, but getting married is different."

Kanan tapped the table. "How is it different. Explain."

She wasn't actually considering inappropriate uses of the airlock. But it was useful to let him think that. And entertaining to watch him squirm. This could count as a party right here.

"I mean... it's..."

"Zeb have you ever been married?"

"Well... no."

"Maybe you shouldn't comment on what an awful thing it is if you don't have any experience."

Hera laid a hand on Kanan's arm. "No one is forcing either of us to do this." The fact that they were at war with the Empire was making it very difficult. Maybe the fact that it did feel like the Empire didn't want them to do it was a bit of a motivation. She would never make a decision out of this just to tweak Palpatine's nose, but the fact that he'd be livid did bring her a certain measure of joy.

Mostly she just took joy in it because she wanted to do it. They probably should have done this a long time ago. There had to be a reason that Sabine assumed they already had within a day of being on the Ghost.

"I think they make a great couple." The opinion of a fourteen-year-old girl wasn't usually the decider in the matter of matrimony, but it was nice to hear that she felt comfortable voicing it.

"Are there any Mandalorian traditions you want to incorporate?"

Sabine hesitated. "Most of our traditions involve explosions. Or ritual combat. Or ritual combat through explosions..."

"Maybe we won't do that." It wasn't much of a defiant statement of life in the face of an oppressive regime if they added knife fights. Last night of freedom indeed. They were still fighting for their first night of freedom.

"I'll make you guys a present though."

Technically she'd already given them a massive one by making them realize they should do this. "Only if you want."

Sabine flexed her fingers. "I haven't gotten to create proper art in ages. It'll be fun."

Hera was curious what she was going to come up with using the colours that Kanan had bought, but she was sure it would be heartfelt.

"We could use the explosions to break out some people for the party," Zeb suggested.

Maybe it had been a bad idea to let the two of them meet. Too late now.

It was definitely better to plan this without the kids around. Too many suggestions.

"E said someone will be able to help us out on Garel." There were enough people moving through there that they could blend in with other travellers. And pick up some supplies while they were at it. So that was the most important part of the logistics established. They could actually make this official. Of course, now they had to figure out the rest of the details. They weren't really going to have a guest list, but the officiant would have questions about what they wanted in a ceremony.

"What's a Twi'lek wedding usually like?"

Nothing like what they were going to have. "It's a full clan affair. You would meet with the elders to make your case for joining." Which would involve speaking to her father and that certainly wasn't going to happen. She'd never really thought about whether she even wanted that big event. She wanted to fly, she'd never really pictured herself getting married. But then there was Kanan.

"Would I be expected to take your name? I'm not against it."

Hera leaned over and kissed his cheek. "The only name I need you to take for me is rebel scum, and you did that a long time ago. You couldn't do it without the clan... also kanan'syndulla translates to foul breathed spearman."

Kanan gave her a goofy smile that was presumably never seen in the Jedi Temple. "I might love you enough for that."

"I love you enough to not ask you to. We're still plenty married if we have different names." They were honestly halfway married already, but it was good to have a symbol sometimes.

"Okay. We've figured out what we're not doing. Jedi didn't get married, so I've got no traditions to work from either."

This might be why they hadn't already gotten formally married. "There must be a generic ceremony of some sort. Just... promise to love each other and then eat."

"That's an important part of a wedding, right?"

"The most important part. Especially now that we have a teenager." They might still need most of that clan banquet. And then Zeb wasn't technically an adolescent, but he did manage to eat like one a lot. At least Chopper didn't need to be fed. He made a cheap guest. Assuming he didn't murder anyone while they were there. This was probably enough other activity to keep him entertained.

"Okay. So food. Promise to love each other. Both keep our own names."

"You don't have to do any demonstration to prove that you will be a worthy addition to the clan." Hera was reasonably certain that no human would ever meet that standard in her father's eyes. No matter how many stories she'd heard about Jedi in the Clone Wars, often from his own mouth.

"I don't have to what?"

"It's not a trivial thing, getting married. The bigger difference between the influence of two clans the more... set in their ways the elders can become." Stubborn, really.

"So coming from a clan I just made up..."

"It's not even that. You could be the king of Alderaan and it still wouldn't have any status on Ryloth itself." Hera shook her head. "But we're not getting married on Ryloth, we're getting married in a random spaceport chapel on Garel."

Simpler. More them. This didn't need to be an entire elaborate undertaking. "Okay, none of those traditions. I guess we need to wear... something."

"No way to find a Twi'lek wedding robe out here." It would look strange in the chapel anyway. Without the rest of the trappings it didn't make sense. She'd always pictured wearing one like her mother's on the rare occasion she even thought about the possibility of marrying.

"Jedi would wear robes to other people's weddings but I can think of about five different reasons that's a terrible idea."

"Given that we're trying to avoid attracting too much attention." She knew he still had a lightsaber in the room he didn't tend to sleep in, but it was too risky to ever bring it out. Jedi robes would be an even bigger giveaway. "Do you even still have those?"

"Well... no. And I think Master Yoda would die all over again if I wore them to break the Code this blatantly."

Breaking the Code. She knew he didn't call himself a Jedi anymore. But that was still a big step. "You're sure you want to do this?"

"I'm attached to you whether we get married or not. This is just making it official. I made that choice a long time ago."

She wasn't sure when exactly either of them had made it. She'd never meant to get attached either. She was supposed to be focused on the mission. But he made it easier just by being there. Made her stronger. They were a good team. "Okay... that still doesn't get us closer to figuring the clothing out."

"Do we even own any formalwear?"

That was an excellent question. Hera stood and walked over to the closet. No robes, of course. And she certainly didn't own a dress. "There are a couple shirts in here that don't have grease stains."

"Alright. Good start. I think we're supposed to wear pants to get married."

The pants could come off later. But if the goal was to avoid getting arrested on their wedding night, they definitely wanted to avoid indecent exposure charges. "There has to be something in here that didn't start its life as part of a flightsuit." She pushed through the layers. If nothing else, she must have worn a disguise at some point. That orange fabric didn't blend in very well.

"What about these?" Kanan held up a pair of plain brown pants of a reasonably smooth fabric.

"Clean. Untorn. That's practically black tie in our circles."

"I'm not sure I have anything better than my usual pants..."

Hera looked him up and down. "The usual pants are just fine."

"You're sure? They're kinda..."

Hera smiled. "Flattering. Let's go with... flattering." A little tight, really. She appreciated it. He could pull them off. She could...

Well, definitely appreciate them. That seemed like the ideal thing for him to wear if they were making a formal commitment to their relationship.

"Okay, pants. Shirts. Both are clean. Is that all we need?"

"Technically." They owned boots. They were going to wear boots. That wasn't worth discussing. They could just clean the dirt off the boots. "Unless you have a real desire for a flower crown."

"We should get one for Chopper."

Hera snorted. "Zeb has to be the one to give it to him. I've got plans that involve you not getting murdered by my droid."

Chopper requested the flower crown. At length. Which left them in the unexpected situation of having to find a florist. Hera hadn't thought to ask E about that when requesting a discreet officiant. She felt vaguely ridiculous ordering it. but the florist decided they just weren't going to ask.

Probably a good life choice. Especially after the series of menacing beeps and whistles the droid made when Zeb had the audacity to comment on his new accessory.

The delicate circlet of purple flowers was the only thing that really marked them out as being here for anything other than mundane supply shopping. There wasn't exactly a wedding district to the port. They were just headed for an ordinary-looking office.

Hera glanced down at her datapad. "We're looking for Rov Melmin"

An Ithorian opened the door and waved them in quickly. "Of course, my friends! Come in, come in, quick now." His mechanical voicebox was surprisingly bubbly. It was possible with the technology, of course. But not a variation she had ever encountered before.

They stepped through, with Zeb, Sabine and Chopper following close behind.

"Do you know if anyone is following you directly?" he asked.

Kanan gave him a puzzled look. So much for the Force making all things clear. "Excuse me?"

They were technically wanted by the Empire, of course. But even after Zeb's idea of a bachelor party, they didn't have enough of a trace on them for it to be a major concern if they weren't on Lothal. At least if they weren't going anywhere too public for this.

"How clean was your escape? Do you think there are slave trackers on your heels?"

Hera glanced over at Kanan. She should have realized what this looked like. On the other hand, they shouldn't go around admitting that they were actually just on the run from the Empire because of that little bit of sabotage. So sure. Runaway slave. She could play that role. It would be more convincing with her childhood accent, but she didn't want to speak marriage vows in a different voice than she spoke to Kanan with their entire relationship. "We came farther to be sure of it."

"That was smart. I'll still make sure the perimeter sensors are engaged."

"Thank you," Kanan said.

Perimeter sensors would still be useful for their actual need for discretion. Though if the Empire disrupted this she might just take the Ghost to Coruscant and deal with Palpatine herself.

It was no banquet hall. The walls were painted a generic sort of colour that might have been white at some point. Melmin kept the place clean, but age still did its work. The floor had been swept recently, but there was no hiding that that particular shade of green hadn't been in fashion since the days of the Republic. A cheap polymer desk. A terminal several years out of date but somehow still running. It probably couldn't even patch into the latest version of the Holonet. Which at least made it a little more difficult for the Empire to tap into anything on it. E was onto something when she suggested this place.

No altar. But they had their flower droid and the rest of the family.

"Your friend didn't tell me anything about what sort of ceremony you wanted. Do you just want the papers or..."

They could. But if they were going to the trouble of making this official, it seemed anticlimactic to just fill out some forms. "We want something. We just... haven't really had a chance to discuss what."

"I"m sure it's been a very turbulent time. I realize that we can't carry out any of your cultural traditions here. Do you have any particular preferences, Mister..."

"Jarrus. I'm from all over."

Definitely not asking the Jedi for any input on a wedding ceremony, but the less detail the better on that front.

"Very well." Melmin scrolled on his datapad. "I have something basic I often use in these situations. Take a look."

Kanan leaned in close to read it over her shoulder. She glanced up at him and nodded.

"Yeah, we can work with this."

"Do we just..." with such a small guest list, it was strange to even know how to start.

Chopper gave a series of beeps and circled around them. As good an opening as any. Hera reached for Kanan's hand.

Melmin nodded at them. "In these turbulent times, love is the most precious treasure anyone can find. I don't know what path has brought the two of you to this place, in this time. But you are here, and you are together, and for now, that can be enough. I cannot promise you the road will get easier. But I am here to help you promise to walk it hand in hand."

"Kanan." She raised a hand up to his chest and looked into his eyes. They were really here. A place she never would have expected when they first met. "I promise to be by your side through the good and the bad. To love you whatever the galaxy brings us."

The words on the datapad were a good start. But she did have thoughts of her own to add. "I don't know what the future holds, but I know it's better for having you in it. Whatever battles may come, we'll face them together. Our fates may be in the hands of the goddess, but I place mine in yours as well."

The last line though, what more could she say than what was on the screen? "I swear to remain with you until our star burns out."

"Hera. I promise to be by your side through the good and the bad. To love you whatever the galaxy brings us. I never thought about having a future until you showed me there could be a brighter one. I'm stronger beside you. May the Force be with our union. I swear to remain with you until our star burns out."

"Then by the power granted me, I pronounce you husband and wife."

She'd seen human weddings in holodramas where the groom had to be told to kiss the bride. Kanan needed no such instructions. Chopper gave a triumph whistle while Zeb and Sabine clapped.

Tomorrow, they could get back to fighting for a better future. Today, she could just enjoy committing to her future having Kanan Jarrus in it.

#star wars #fanfiction #kanan/hera #kanera #kanan jarrus/hera syndulla #fanfic #yeah this is wedding fic #because they were married dammit

15 notes · View notes

sodalitefully · 3 years

Text

Santa Slash is coming to town...

This fic is the Christmas-themed spiritual successor to my Easter Bunny AU. Special thanks to @slashscowboyboots for supporting all my holiday nonsense!

Four snapshots from Slash’s Christmas prep marathon through the years:

🎄🎄🎄🎄

Jingle bells.

Fucking jingle bells.

There were FIFTEEN of them on the stupid-fucking-candy-colored costume he had to wear at this godforsaken excuse for a seasonal job. “Earn some extra cash,” they said. “It’s easy, you barely have to do anything,” they said. "You'll be perfect, you already look the part!" they said.

"They are about to find a size-ten jingle-toed bootie up their ass,” Axl said – to himself, as he rushed into the storage room turned "dressing room" and buttoned up his itchy red and green vest with one hand while sipping an Orange Julius from the food court with the other.

“Hey, Axl! You’re barely late today, awesome!”

And then there was this weirdo.

Axl could not for the life of him explain why a shopping mall in Indiana elected to hire a skinny dude in his 20s with a dark complexion and a nose ring to portray Saint Nick himself, but whatever the reason, Axl was stuck working with this fruitcake until Christmas Day. Sure Slash was nice enough (oh yeah, and his name was Slash, or at least that's how he introduced himself without offering any explanation or even a last name), but he was way too enthusiastic about getting paid minimum wage to let strange kids sit in his lap at a grimy old shopping mall.

Uh, not in a weird way, Slash was good with the kids, really. But sometimes... it seemed like he was taking his role a little too seriously.

"How come you don't have a beard?" the first customer of Axl's shift, a little girl in a Tweety bird sweater and blonde pigtails, asked suspiciously.

"That's a good question,” Slash said, scratching at his bare chin. The neck of his Motörhead Beyond the Threshold of Pain Tour T-shirt was visible over the faux fur collar of the Santa costume, and his shiny black boots clearly came from a military surplus store. “I get asked that a lot but the truth is, it just isn't a flattering look, trust me. I tried it once, and the elves could barely look at me in the eye." To Axl’s incredulity, the girl actually accepted that answer. "Now tell me, what would you like for Christmas this year, sweetheart?"

As usual, Axl tuned out at this point. Fake a smile for the overprotective parents, take the painfully awkward commemorative photograph, try not to look like he would rather die than hear Slash try to gently explain that Santa will probably not be delivering a pony this year one more damn time, rinse and repeat – until about an hour later, when the unthinkable happened.

The less said about about the incident, the better. Suffice to say, one of the darling angels tossed his Christmas cookies, and some of the resulting mess wound up soaking into the front of Axl’s elf costume. As if he needed another reason to hate his job; this was just adding insult on top of injury (that is, the injury to Axl’s pride as a result of being forced to wear the most ridiculous-looking costume he’s ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on).

“That’s it. I quit.” He grabbed the elf cap off his head and slammed it on the ground, then stormed through the exit gate past the sign wishing customers a "Holly Jolly Holiday Season," the bells on his costume ringing merrily as he stomped his feet.

“Hey, wait!”

“No,” Axl growled, but he did turn around to look back at Slash, still sitting in the plastic candy-cane throne unbothered by the mess or the sniffling child now mostly placated by a peppermint candy. "What."

Slash offered him a bright, beguiling smile.

"What do you want for Christmas, Axl?"

-----

Nothing said "holiday cheer" like wandering the tinsel-adorned labyrinth that was a Walmart superstore a week before Christmas, with Paul McCartney's "Wonderful Christmastime" echoing through the tinny PA system and surrounded by other last-minute vultures hopelessly scavenging the picked-over aisles.

In Izzy's defense, he actually finished all his shopping early this year, for once. But then his two little brothers begged him to drive them around town to find the perfect gift for a girl at school that they apparently both had a crush on, and like a fool he agreed.

He was regretting it now. Anything would be better than subjecting himself to nearly an hour of top-40 Christmas music. The jingle bells were jingling, the carolers were caroling, the B-list pop stars were spitting out god-awful covers of Christmas classics, and don’t even get him started on the commercials.

He wasn't about to walk around in public with his fingers shoved in his ears (at least, he wasn't that desperate yet), but he did squeeze his eyes shut and pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to force himself to relax. Just take deep breaths and think of The Rolling Stones...

"Hey, uh, you doing okay?"

Izzy opened his eyes reluctantly. In front of him was a young man wearing a concerned expression and a Santa hat, stuffed onto a massive pile of dark curls.

"I'm fine. Just finding out if it's possible to die from overexposure to Christmas music."

"Ahhh." The man nodded in understanding. "It's not, unfortunately. I've tested it, trust me."

"Do you work here or something?" Izzy asked. A leather jacket and ripped jeans didn't look like an employee uniform, but his hat matched the store decor and he didn't have a cart or shopping basket.

"No, I'm actually a seasonal distributor. Just checking in to make sure everything's in place before that last holiday rush, you know? Shit always gets crazy at the last minute."

"Tell me about it," Izzy responded, as if he knew a thing about marketing as a cynical 16-year-old. But he had first-hand experience with last-minute crises, and as if to prove it, his brothers came running up to him at that moment.

"Jeff! We can't find anything good, what should we do?"

"What's the problem?" the stranger in a Santa hat asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"We don't know what present to get for a girl at school," the boys explained.

"Hmm..." He tapped at his chin. "Why don't you just – oh wait, you're underage. Well, how about you bake her some cookies or something? That's what everyone does for me and I have no complaints."

Desperate to remove himself from this musical hell, Izzy jumped on the idea. "Yeah, you could do sugar cookies! And decorate them like horses, she likes horses right?” The boys had only mentioned that a dozen times; Izzy was starting to wonder if this girl even had any other personality traits.

To his relief, a spark lit up in his brothers' eyes. Cookies were a perfect idea, and suddenly they were dragging him away to look at cookie cutters and sprinkles.

Izzy turned around to shoot the helpful stranger a grateful look, but when he looked back, the man had disappeared with no trace, leaving not even a furry white pompom behind.

-----

Slash glanced out the window and grimaced – it was cold as a witch’s big bouncy tit outside, nothing but snow and ice as far as the eye could see. He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and took another swig of hot Irish coffee. Damn the North Pole, there was a reason he took his summer vacations in Malibu.

But despite the miserable work conditions, Slash was nothing if not dedicated to his job. In front of him was a sack overflowing not with toys but with the most recent letters to Santa, straight from the North Pole's post office. With Christmas only a few days away, his daunting task was to go through the whole mountain of letters as quickly as possibly in order to take their special requests into consideration before it was time to start loading up the sleigh.

Well, there was no time like the present to get started. Slash stretched his back and got comfortable in his coziest armchair (by throwing his legs over one armrest and slouching until his head rested on the other), absentmindedly tapping the end of his peppermint stick on the edge of an ashtray. He grimaced when he brought the stick back to his lips and realized his mistake.

With a sigh, he dropped the peppermint stick back in the ashtray already full of cigarette butts and ruined candies, and unfolded the first letter. In barely legible green marker, the message read:

Dear Santa Claus,

My name is Steven and I'm 5 years old. Please give me a skateboard for Christmas. My brother has one and he won't let me borrow it to learn tricks.

Hmmm. Five years old was a little young for a skateboard. Knowing Steven, he'd probably knock his teeth out by New Year's...

...Slash shrugged. Why not? All things considered, he would have killed for a skateboard when he was five, so who was he to say no?

-----

Duff was seven years old when his older brothers cornered him in the backyard and gleefully informed him that Santa Claus was a fraud. It was all a lie made up by parents to convince their children to behave during the year, they explained, and the toys were made on factory lines not by magical elves. Their mother gave them a hell of a scolding afterwards but it was too late, the deed could not be undone.

He tried to play it cool, but the truth was, Duff was very distraught as Christmas Eve inched closer. Could his siblings be right? He didn't want to believe it, but if he was being honest with himself, he'd suspected as much for some time. He braced himself to accept the hard truth come Christmas Eve – but only if he was presented with definitive proof.

When the fateful night finally came, Duff and two of his brothers laid out their sleeping bags behind the couch, where they'd be hidden from view if anyone tried to approach the Christmas tree. They all swore not to fall asleep, not even for a second until Christmas morning... And it wasn't until his brother started snoring that Duff realized he was the only one still awake and silently anticipating the moment of truth.

It was imperative, of course, that he stayed hidden and didn't make a sound, or else risk giving their plot away. But... it was past midnight, dinner was hours ago and Duff's empty stomach was starting to distract him from the task at hand. He couldn't stop thinking about all the food he would get to eat with his family on Christmas Day: the glazed ham, mashed potatoes, apple pie and Christmas cookies...

In the dim light, Duff could just barely make out the plate of cookies for Santa, waiting in front of the tree. The cookies were still there untouched, all six of them... Surely no one would notice if Duff ate just one?

He tiptoed over his sleeping siblings, as silent as the snow falling outside, making his way around the sofa to the plate on the coffee table. But just as he reached out to pluck a gingerbread man from the assortment, he saw a shadow of movement out of the corner of his eye. There, beside the Christmas tree in the flickering glow of multicolored string lights, was a mysterious figure in a fur-lined coat and a red cap.

Duff stared at the intruder, slack-jawed. The cookie clattered back onto the dish, and at the noise the stranger whirled around to face him.

"Duff! What are you doing still awake?" he demanded. Duff took a breath to answer – or more likely to ask how the man knew his name – but before he could, the man peered over the couch, narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Oh I see what this is. You thought you would catch your parents pretending to be me!" he accused. "Well, here's the real truth: adults are always wrong and you should never do what they say!"

The man – could he really be Santa Claus? – he planted his leather-gloved hands on his hips as he scolded Duff. "And don't even get me started on teenagers..." he griped, casting a stare over Duff's shoulder where his older brother's leg was sticking out from behind the couch, tangled in a blanket.

Tears started to well up in Duff's eyes.

"Please still give them Christmas presents! I know they said they don't believe in you, but they've been good, I promise!" he begged. Santa's expression softened.

"Aw, I know, kid. I promise they'll still get their presents, alright? Let me just finish up here and then maybe you can help me out with those cookies, sound good?"

Placated, Duff sniffled and nodded, scrubbing his eyes with his sleeve. He hopped onto the sofa, swinging his feet and watching with awe as Santa pulled beautifully wrapped gifts out of seemingly nowhere and stacked them around the tree, one after another until all eight of the McKagan children were represented. He took a step back to take in his handiwork, made a few minor adjustments, then turned back to Duff: “Voila! That’s the magic of Christmas. Now pass me that plate, would you?”

Santa sat down next to Duff and propped his boots up on the coffee table. When Duff held out the plate of cookies, he selected one decorated to look like Santa Claus, white beard and all, and promptly bit its head off.

“I love my job, but delivering presents is exhausting,” he sighed, accepting a glass of milk from Duff’s outstretched hand. “I’ve already covered Asia, Africa, Europe, and most of the Americas, so I’d say I’m due for a break. Cheers, Duff.” He held up his glass and Duff tapped it with his half-eaten cookie.

“To a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!”

🎄🎄🎄🎄

#which sounds better:#santa slash or slash claus?#what do yall eat on christmas? i realized while writing this that i have no idea what people normally have #sodafics #guns n roses #gnr #guns and roses #slash #saul hudson #axl rose #izzy stradlin #steven adler #duff mckagan #gnr fanfic #christmas

46 notes · View notes

furashuban · 3 years

Text

Visitations (Chapter 2)

Posted a new chapter of one of my Hilda fics for Valentines day!

Pairing: Sketchbook (Johanna / Kaisa)

Words: 2951

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28469292/chapters/72318120

A plate of cucumber sandwiches occupied the center of the dinner table, next to it was a vase holding a single pale rose. The tea kettle screeched in a deafening volume which prompted Johanna to lift it off the stove. She then looked down her wrist to check the time on her watch. Two in the afternoon, it read. Johanna wondered anxiously if the librarian was even coming to her place or not.

Kaisa was the curator of a massive collection of books yet somehow, she never questioned what her schedule was even like. She only knew that the librarian would come and visit on the day the book of Winter Tales needed to be picked up, and the date on the library card had been slipped in the book for Johanna to not even forget. Maybe she got too excited. Perhaps the librarian was meant to come at dusk, and she had prepared a batch of sandwiches and tea that would be awfully lukewarm by the time she arrived.

All of a sudden, two knocks on the door were heard behind the brunette. Quickly did her heart pound and her hair rise rather stiffly. It had to be the librarian, even if it was too incidental since Hilda and Twig would have just barged into the apartment if they were arriving home. Johanna took a deep breath and hurriedly paced to the door. Keep it together, she thought before reaching for the door. Welcoming an acquaintance into her home was not a matter of life and death.

She turned the knob and pulled the entrance open. In front of her stood a slightly shorter woman with purple highlights and a black cloak, raising her arm as though she was about to knock again. She was gaping at Johanna, whose face was nearly reddening the moment she laid eyes on the librarian wearing a burgundy scarf wrapped around her collar.

“Kaisa.” said Johanna, content and effervescent. “Lovely seeing you here.”

“Like I said,” Kaisa spoke. “I’d come to pick up the book once the date is due and well, that would be today.”

“Yes, of course.” agreed Johanna. “I love your scarf by the way. It suits your cloak quite nicely... Did I mention before that I love your cloak? ‘Cause well, I really do and...” she shuts herself up, embarrassed and glancing the other way.

Kaisa chuckled. “Thank you.” she said. “I don’t usually wear scarves, but since it’s so cold, I thought I should.”

“Well, let’s not waste time and come right in.” Johanna said, giving way for the librarian to step into her abode.

Kaisa looked around, noticing each detail from the tidiness of the living room to the setup of the kitchen and dining room. It was toasty warm, and the aroma of nutmeg and ginger drifted in the air.

“Quite a cozy place you have, Johanna.” she remarked.

“You should have seen my old house when I still lived in the wilderness.” said Johanna. “It was cozier than the coziest place you can think of.”

“You mean my library?” Kaisa joked, to which Johanna flushed.

The librarian stood next to the dining table, glancing down on the setup presented while her smile was soft and ample. This was her first date, of course it was hard not to feel flattered by Johanna’s plan to welcome her, even if she figured how things such as this were going to play out. Meanwhile, Johanna paced to the kitchen to fill two cups with hot water from the kettle.

“Please, do take a seat.” Johanna said, dipping bags of peppermint tea into the cups. “You came in just in time. Everything is still fresh.”

Kaisa followed. She adored how Johanna did not immediately bring attention to the book that needed to be returned to her. Of course, it hardly mattered, as it remained a ruse for Kaisa to spend time with the brunette. Winter Tales can wait.

Johanna sat on her side of the table and offered Kaisa’s cup of tea. The scent of peppermint exuding from the hot water, coupled with the rose in the vase, pacified the librarian’s state of mind. She reached for the batch of cucumber sandwiches in unison with Johanna and bumped into each other's fingers. The two of them withdrew in awkwardness, the brunette then insisted Kaisa to pick one up first. As soon as she did, her first bite of the velvety snack keyed up her joyance.

“Best sandwich I’ve ever had.” Kaisa spoke, her eyes dilating.

“Pleasure is all mine.” nodded Johanna.

There was mostly silence at first while Kaisa and Johanna each partook a sandwich. Both of them waited for the other to bring up something they could bond over, but to no avail. The feel to go beyond exchanging glances and smiles grew stronger every second, so Kaisa was swift to recollect whatever things Johanna had told her only a moment ago.

“So, tell me about it.” Kaisa then asked.

“About what?”

Kaisa chewed on a morsel of her sandwich. “Life in the wilderness.” she uttered after quickly swallowing.

“Oh, right. Well...it was quiet, and rather cozy. I’d say dangerous, too, if you didn’t know your way around.“ she pulled the tea bag out of her mug and set it aside. “This would be more of a question for my daughter, Hilda. I think she has more exciting stories to tell about the wilderness than I do.”

“Surely.” Kaisa grinned. “But what I also want to know is, why did you move to the wilderness?”

Johanna sat in silence, tapping her cup as she dived into deep thought. If there was one person whose asked that question before, it would have to be Kaisa.

“...I suppose being a Sparrow Scout gave me a taste for the outdoors.” she spoke. “Living in the wilderness by myself was all I’ve ever wanted to do during my badge-collecting days. You see, there was always so many things to behold and sketch out there, and much, much more outside the walls. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to venture off anywhere without getting punished so when I finally grew up and could, I tracked this wooden house my great-grandad built some time ago, and there I lived doing what I wanted. Just a lot of wandering, sketching, and it didn’t take long for me to encounter a forest giant for the first time either. Thankfully, I knew from my old books that giants didn’t eat any humans, so it carried on while I mapped out its stature.”

“Sounds like you were pretty happy moving out.” she glanced back at Johanna, diverted how she actually had an exciting story to tell after all. “The adventures you must have had.”

“Well, I wasn’t too keen on adventure afterwards.” admitted Johanna. “Having to deal with creatures and spirits became a hassle. It’s why I stopped drawing them, it’s even why me and Hilda moved to Trollberg. Well, then again, it didn’t seem to matter since a few months ago I...” she paused, hesitant to recount either her kidnapping by the Yule Lads or seeing the Barghest in her home. “...Never mind. But basically, you’d be shocked just how overwhelming it is out there compared to Trollberg,”

“Still, I would have loved to see life outside the walls, too.” Kaisa said. “You already make it sound like fun.”

“I’m sure you’d love it, Kaisa.” grinned Johanna. “No one’s ever been interested in my life in the wilderness before. It feels nice talking about it without raising eyebrows for once.”

“What can I say? I can’t help with a good story.” Kaisa placed her hand under her chin.

The two kindled the room with more conversation, and ones where Johanna felt unnoticeably confident to engage with the librarian. She continued to compare her life in Trollberg to the wilderness, as well as being the mother of a young, adamant yet good-natured adventurer whom she passed her knowledge down to. It was all stories she knew how to tell, where she could begin and where to end, but the validation of being asked about and listened to without belittlement consoled her too much from her worries of over-explaining. It was especially plain sailing for Kaisa to be charmed by the brunette’s anecdotes; she could never grow tired of the calm and affable tone of her voice.

“You know, I thought if we moved, I wouldn’t have to worry about Hilda being in danger anymore,“ sighed Johanna. “But she’s only gotten into more of it behind my back. Sometimes I don’t know if it was right to consider moving after living in the wilderness for too long, even if the giant had stomped on our house. I just wanted to keep her safe, and…”

“Well, I think bringing Hilda and yourself here was not a bad idea at all.” Kaisa spoke when Johanna paused for too long. “You gave her a new perspective towards life in a place she hardly thought about, and that’s important for a girl like her. So don’t stress yourself out. You’re not wrong to think about her safety either.”

Johanna sipped on her tea. “I suppose I’ll leave it at that for now.” she said. “But I appreciate it, Kaisa, really.”

Kaisa was a quieter, more secretive woman in contrast. There were things she was not supposed to reveal so casually to her, nor did she feel like she was ready to explain but wished otherwise. Her acquaintance with Hilda and her friends as well as life in the tower of witches, not even the fact that she would be banished to an endless void if a book was overdue, yet that was the most interesting thing she could illuminate! She was happy, however, that after years of reading stories to herself, she indulged in someone’s stories with the person who lived through them actually narrating to her in person.

The batch of cucumber sandwiches went from a pyramid to a nearly empty plateau, as only a couple remained on the plate. But the two were now stuffed, both in appetite and in discussion. Even the tea was almost finished, and Kaisa had never known such a pleasant combination until now.

Johanna promptly arose from her seat. “Right, before I forget,” said Johanna “Better give back that book of yours...”

In the living room, Kaisa stood and awaited Johanna, who walked from her bedroom with the book of Winter Tales in her hands. The brunette handed it over, and the librarian opened its cover to pull out the library card. While still cradling the book with the card on top of the exterior, she pulled out a meager red stamp from her pocket and marked the tip against a box on the receipt. The book was officially returned to the keeper of books.

“Do you just have stamps with you everywhere you go?” inquired Johanna half-jokingly.

“On occasions like this, yes.” the librarian withdrew her stamp.

With a mid-afternoon dinner finished and a book returned to the library, Johanna and Kaisa had nothing else prearranged for them. They stared into one another’s eyes, pondering if their day was spent to the fullest.

“Well, it was nice coming here.” Kaisa continued. “I wished I wasn’t leaving so soon.”

“Me neither.” Johanna countered. “Something about you makes me feel...well....secure, I guess? Like, I can just spend a lifetime with you and never be upset that you’re with me-” she hastily covered her mouth.

Kaisa blushed, the flattery was too much for her to process. “You really mean it?” she could only ask.

Johanna’s arms folded and writhed, suffering from her bashfulness. “Very much.” she replied softly, her grin formed just as brightly as the woman in front of her.

Before long, Kaisa perceived the drawing table beside Johanna, remembering when she talked about sketching in the outdoors. Immediately, she was fascinated to look at the kinds of drawings Johanna sketched during her wilderness years, even the ones she seemed to be doing now. Johanna noticed her eyeing on the papers against the table.

“Oh, those are just some rough drafts.” she pointed out. “I’m doing commissions for the Bellmakers Corporation. Sometimes they give me a little too much to work on, to be honest.”

An imaginary light bulb sparked above Kaisa’s head. “Listen, Johanna... I’m not supposed to do stuff like this but,” she spoke. “Do you want to see something cool?”

Johanna looked concern. “Um...”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Kaisa winked. “You might want to step back a bit.”

There was a spell that Kaisa enjoyed casting when she first trained to become a witch. Even if it had been a long time since she tried it again, she could not let the opportunity slip by while she remained in the presence of both Johanna and her pile of sketches. The Committee of Three would be crossed to know that the keeper of the books would casually reveal her magic to an outsider once again, not like Kaisa cared anyway. Just one last time, she thought.

The librarian placed the Winter Tales book down on the coffee table. She then pulled out her wand, hoisting it against her face as she closed her eyes. She pictured and hoped for a scenario to occur from reciting the incantation, then waving it around in circles until a purple, glimmering spark to manifest on the tip.

“Frah min tilyera uppfilor vara augon nit!”

Upon reciting the last word, Kaisa opened her eyes and aimed her wand at Johanna’s drafting table. A dazzling ray of light blasted from the wand and jostled the drawing endlessly. It looked as though it was destroying the artwork, yet the paper was unscathed under its collision. Johanna screeched for a fracture of a second and leaned backwards, completely spooked by what she was witnessing. Kaisa continued to hold her grip on the wand, feeling her hair, cloak and scarf fluttering backwards from the force of her magic, then she finally heaved the sprig for the laser to blip out of existence.

The outlines of Johanna’s sketches gleamed a tint of neon purple until the outlines themselves hovered out of the paper, levitating above the space between Johanna and Kaisa. Several types of bells from wedding bells, sleigh bells, carillons and chimes—all with Johanna’s unfinished patterns—swung smoothly like fireflies. They sounded a jingle like that of a grandfather clock, hence the worry to alarm neighbors of a false troll attack was inconsequential.

“What on earth…” mouthed Johanna, gazing at the glowing bells.

Kaisa cleared her throat to get Johanna’s attention. She held her wand by the pommel like a conductor’s baton and waved her arms in a four-four pattern. Her arms swung up, then down, crosswise, then outwards, unhurried yet exaggerated in her movement. The purple bells began to clank harmoniously in a restful tune while other bells provided a drone or percussion. Johanna returned to standing normally, letting the music carry the fright out of her body. Maybe to a troll it was the most agonizing thing to hear up close, but Johanna watched and listened to the bell orchestra in pure wonderment. It was one thing to see her designs come to life in a matter of weeks or months, but to see them immediately jump out of the paper to serenade her was magic she never expected to see nor cherish.

Johanna beamed at the bells and to the witch, chuckled warmly as Kaisa simpered back in return. The song of the bells played for a minute and a half, vibrating changing sequences of notes until they faded into thin air one by one. The final bell rang alone, and it erupted into a small firework. As specs of light and dust hovered in the air, Kaisa withdrew her wand in between her ear and hid her arms in her cloak. She waited for Johanna to break out of her speechlessness.

“You...you were a witch this whole time?” stammered the brunette, her jubilant complexion turned into more of a bewildered gape.

“That’s right.” Kaisa answered, still looking mirthful in contrast. “Keeper of the books, and also a witch. And what you saw was just a little reanimation spell.”

Trivial things from the moment she first met the librarian had all made sense for Johanna now. The cloak should have been a dead giveaway, and so was her premonition to give her the book of Winter Tales.

“That’s extraordinary.” Johanna ran her hand through her mane. “I’ve only known witches through stories from when I was a kid.”

“And I’ve known life as one for, well, almost my whole life really.” Kaisa said.

Feelings were at odds and rollicking in Johanna’s heart and mind. Even Kaisa, now bounding her hands frontward and pouting to the sight of a contemplative Johanna, questioned if it was foolish to reveal her sorcery to someone who considered dealing with creatures and spirits to be a hassle. It did not matter how well she succeeded to make her smile through her magic, she realized, for so many things can only stay momentary until it reconnects with reality. She was looking forward to it, grudgingly of course, that she was going to be shut out by the most cordial woman she had ever met, all because of one mistake.

Johanna walked up to the writhing librarian, unbinding her hands and raising one of them up. Kaisa’s eyes dilated to her hand encased by both of Johanna’s palms.

“Please, tell me this won’t be the last time we’ll meet.” begged Johanna, something sparkling in her eyes.

The librarian’s heart melted. “Of course, silly.” assured Kaisa.

#hilda the series #fanfiction #hilda netflix #hilda the librarian #hilda johanna #hilda kaisa #sketchbook ship #my works

12 notes · View notes