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purple-babygirl · 3 years

Note

First of all… who told you that you could toy with my heart over your latest work: SamBucky and the injuries Little. Talk about the angst but fluff. Just mwah!

But will all that angst especially with Sam and Bucky—they are just a perfect combo, btw. I now am needy for angst to fluff (oops…). All I can think about is an insecure little who think that her daddies don’t love her after a misunderstanding, so she pack up her things and runs away. (But a happy ending is ensured) when Sam and Bucky are able to find her

Love you.

Pairing: SamBucky x little!f!reader

Word Count: 2,796

Warnings: polyamory, ddlg dynamics, a dash of angst, and a pinch of fluff

A/N: Hello, Nonnie! Thank you for reading, and thank you for sharing this idea with me and allowing me to toy with your heart over it!💜💜 I was a puddle writing this one. I'm really sorry if this took me too long; I hope it's to your liking and I love you too *ghost kisses*💜 please enjoy xx

unwanted

“That's enough. Go to your room.” Sam demanded angrily, looking down at the cheerios covering the kitchen floor that he now would have to clean up.

“Papa-”

“All you do is cause trouble and I'm done! To your room, now!”

She's been bad again. It was the third time this week. She has been disobedient and impatient. Whenever Papa and Daddy told her to do anything she somehow managed to mess it up. Sam had told her not to touch anything but she wanted to help nevertheless. She couldn’t reach the cupboard though and ended up spilling the box of cereal all over the place.

Her gaze dropped and she walked to her room without another word and a few minutes later, Bucky came to give her lunch and collect her phone and tablet, taking away her screen time for the day.

“But daddy-”

“No, doll. I'm taking them away. You never listen anymore and it needs to stop.”

Papa and Daddy are mad at you. They don't love you no more. They're sick of you. You never listen and you're always bad. They could be so much happier and calmer if it wasn't for you always riling them up. They were done. It needed to stop. They don't love you no more. They don't want you no more. They don't love you. They don't want you.

She sat wallowing in her room, tears gathering in her eyes as her own mind attacked her. Maybe it was all true. All she does is cause trouble.

So maybe if she left…

She got up and got her big girl backpack out of the closet.

Maybe if she left Papa and Daddy would be better off without her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gathered and pushed items into her bag.

Maybe if she was gone they would be less angry.

She zipped the bag up before sloppily slipping her socks on and picking up her stuffed friend.

Maybe if she escaped the house she could escape her thoughts too; leave them all in her room and go.

She wiped her cheeks, tiptoed out of her room, found her shoes by the front door and quietly got into them. She could hear Daddy and Papa lowly laughing together while they got things done in the backyard. Leaving really was the right decision then; they were happier without her.

Taking one, last, tear-blurred look at the house, she stepped outside and quietly closed the door behind her. She held her small white bunny to her chest and sniffed before taking off, walking to the only place that would bring her comfort.

“She's going to be so happy. I can't wait to see her face.” Sam smiled proudly, hands on his waist as he took one last look at the swing he and Bucky have put together for their baby girl in the backyard.

“I really hope she likes it.” Bucky smiled back in agreement before opening the door for Sam and walking inside behind him.

They felt they were too hard on her that morning and she was usually a good girl, only intending to do good for her Daddy and Papa. So they decided to build the swing earlier than they’d previously planned to lighten things up again.

“Is it just me or is it awfully quiet in here?” Bucky murmured, bringing the water bottle down from his mouth and looking around the living room in slight suspicion.

“I mean, she is in a timeout and you did take away her phone,” Sam reminded him, trying not to let himself panic as he got himself a water bottle from the fridge.

But it wasn’t that. Bucky could still hear her presence no matter how quiet. He could hear her crayons gliding on paper when she would sit down to color. He could hear her hum as she organized her toys around the table for tea parties. This quietness wasn’t normal.

Bucky jogged up the stairs to her room and just as he feared, she wasn't in there. Her sandwich was untouched. Her closet was open and her backpack and favourite blankie were missing.

“Sam!” He called for his husband, taking long strides to their bedroom to find she wasn't there either.

Sam ran up the stairs at Bucky's freaked tone and saw him pacing through the hallway.

“She's not here.”

“What?” Sam’s heart sank into his stomach.

“I can't find her.” Bucky shook his head at Sam, running his fingers through his hair in growing panic.

“Hey, calm down. We're gonna find her.” Sam rubbed a hand down Bucky's back, trying to hide his own fright for Bucky's sake as his mind ran to every single place she knew how to get to on her own.

“How? How are we gonna find her? We don't even know where she went or if she's okay-”

Sam put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, the other cupping his cheek.

“Hey, breathe,” Sam instructed, slowly breathing so Bucky could copy him, trying to send away the panic attack ready to take over him. Bucky nuzzled his palm, his breath coming out shaky.

“That's it, Buck. In and out.” He moved his hands to Bucky’s.

“But she was so little when we sent her to her room and she probably doesn't even have any ID or money with her-”

“Bucky,” Sam squeezed his husband’s hands.

“We can't lose her, Sam. I can't- I took her phone away- if she's in trouble, she won't be able to-”

“Bucky, baby, we're gonna find her and she's gonna be okay. I promise.” Sam reassured him with words he himself wasn't sure would turn out to be true, his large palm stroking up and down the tense muscles of Bucky’s back, “I need you to keep breathing for me.”

Bucky tried to manage his breathing, slightly calming down to the thought of getting to hold her again.

“She couldn't have gotten that far, so we're gonna look around and I'm gonna call Steve, okay?” Bucky nodded at Sam's words, glossy eyes closing as Sam planted a kiss to the side of his forehead, “okay, baby. Let's go.”

Sam took the car, driving slowly, roaming the neighborhood to see if she was anywhere around the area. He was asking anyone and everyone who passed by his car if they've seen her. But apparently, no one has. Not even the old couple at the end of the street with the dog she loved to pet so much.

Bucky chose to go on foot as he walked in the other direction, preferring to depend on his enhanced senses instead of talking to other people. Even if he did talk to them for help, no one would understand that while her picture looked like that of a grown lady, she was a mere baby. They would never understand their panic.

Sam rubbed his forehead in frustration, leaning it against the wheel. He’d just hung up with Steve. He said she didn't come to his place; didn't even stop by. In fact, he hasn’t heard from her at all and got worried when Sam called. He took an uneven breath, trying to maintain his cool before he lifted his head up and started the car again.

Leaning back on the big tree, she wrapped her soft blankie tighter around her frame. It was getting kind of chilly and she was starting to regret leaving now that it wasn't that sunny anymore. The tears drying on her cheeks made her shiver even more and she sniffled, kissing her bunny's head and tugging the stuffed animal under her chin. She hoped Daddy and Papa were feeling better now that she was no longer there with them.

“Doll?” She heard Bucky's voice and before she could wonder if she'd imagined it, she was pressed to a hard chest.

“Oh, thank god,” Bucky sighed, kissing the side of her head over and over again, his hands tight around her back, holding her and her bunny close to his frantically beating heart.

“Baby, why'd you leave like that? We were so worried! We looked everywhere, we called everyone.” Bucky kissed her forehead a bunch before “-oh right!”

He got his phone out of his pocket with one arm, the other still firmly holding her to his chest. She kept holding onto her bunny, not really getting what was happening. Was she in trouble for leaving unannounced or not? Why would Daddy and Papa want to find her? She was nothing but trouble.

“Sam, I found her! We're in our secret place in the park.”

At Bucky's call, Sam took a sharp turn, stepping on the gas to get to the park as fast as he could.

“Are you okay, doll? Are you hurt anywhere?” Bucky asked her after hanging up, anxiously checking her head, face, arms and legs for injuries.

She shook her head silently, fresh, hot tears burning at the brims of her eyes.

“Thank god.” Bucky hugged her to his chest again, “we were so scared, doll. We were so scared.”

He kissed her damp cheeks and chin as she kept biting her lip, quietly sniveling.

She'd scared them. She'd worried them. Why was it always that she did something wrong while trying to do anything right? She was no good.

“It’s okay, love. I found you. I’m right here.” Bucky kissed her eyelids, then her nose, thinking she was crying because she was lost alone.

He pulled her on his lap and adjusted himself in her place, his back to the tree trunk as he held her close, fearing she’d disappear if he were to loosen his grip around her.

“Sugar!” Sam’s voice echoed through the empty part of the park when he saw her burrito-wrapped body in Bucky’s lap.

“Papa’s here, doll. It’s okay.” Bucky whispered to her when she didn’t stop crying.

She turned around and her eyes met Sam’s watery, brown ones.

“Hey, sugar,” Sam greeted softly, getting down on his knees before her.

Her lower lip jutted out further as new tears soaked her pretty face. It hasn’t even been a whole day and she’s missed Papa and Daddy so much. How was she ever planning on running away from them or being without them?

“Aww, no, no, baby, it’s okay,” Sam cooed, bringing her to his chest and engulfing her in a protective hug.

Her blanket fell in Bucky’s lap and she dropped her bunny to cling to Sam, barely quieting her sobs.

Not able to hold himself together any longer, a tear escaped Sam’s eye his gaze met Bucky’s. He buried his nose in her hair and squeezed her closer to him, sighing in relief that they’ve found her. His mind kept torturing him with scenarios of her getting hurt and not getting help. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if they’d actually lost her.

“You’re okay, sugar. Papa’s here with you. I’m sorry it took us so long, baby. We were looking in a lot of places.” Sam sniffled, pulling back to pepper featherlike kisses all over her face.

“You wanted to find me?” Her small, brittle voice asked, doe eyes staring up sadly.

“What? Of course we wanted to find you, baby! Why would you think otherwise?!”

“But I was bad. You w-were done. It needed to stop,” she repeated his and Bucky’s words on him and Sam felt shame cover him from head to toe, Bucky not any different as he bit down to stop his tears.

“Doll,” Bucky went to hold her hands only to find they were freezing.

“Shit! She’s too cold,” he told Sam, who immediately started taking off his jacket.

“Dada, bad word,” she softly reminded Bucky, covering her mouth with her hand before Sam got out of his jacket.

Sam slipped his warm jacket on her and pulled the zipper up, her small hands disappearing inside the long sleeves.

“Good girl, sugar. It is a bad word.” He rolled the sleeves back just enough to get her palms out so she could still hold her bunny.

“But you don’t see me asking daddy to leave because he was bad, do you?” Sam asked tenderly and she shook her head no.

“Exactly, I’m not. You know why?” Sam pressed kisses to both of her hands multiple times, rubbing them between his palms to warm her up.

“Why, papa?” she asked as he carried her in his arms; Bucky gathering the rest of her stuff.

“Because I love him so much." Sam wiped her tears. "And both me and daddy love you so so so much, sugar.” He pressed a firm kiss to her temple.

Bucky handed her the small bunny back after patting any dust or leaves out of it.

“We never want you to go, doll.” Bucky pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“Even when I’m really really bad?”

“Even if you’re really really bad,” Sam guaranteed, kissing her temple again.

“But- I thought papa and daddy would be happier and not so angry no more if I left,” she mumbled innocently as Sam started walking to the car with her in his arms.

“That could never be true, doll. We’re only happy as long as we have you,” Bucky reassured her, opening the backseat door so Papa could slip in with her on his lap.

“And you still love me?” Her pout, teary puppy eyes and words were just killing both men inside.

“Of course we love you, doll! We will always love you. We can never afford to lose you,” Bucky told her, his eyes searching hers to offer them comfort.

“Baby, we love you so much it’s uncountable, remember?” Sam ran his thumb over the knuckles of her stuffie-holding hands.

She nodded, her eyes teary but her smile comforted and reassured. “I love you too, Papa,” she mumbled, grabbing onto Sam’s thumb, her eyelids barely staying open.

“I’m sorry I left,” she sniffled.

“It’s alright, baby. We’re all together now and we're going home.” Sam kissed her forehead once more, wanting her to forget all about it and know everything was okay again.

“Told you we’d find her,” Sam said, drawing Bucky inside the car by the cheek and brushing his lips against his.

“You did.” Bucky nodded, pressing his forehead to Sam’s and kissing him again.

Bucky pulled back and smiled adoringly at her sleepy eyes fighting to stay open as she leaned onto Sam's chest before getting in the driver’s seat to take them home. Sam was caressing her hair and before she knew it her eyes were fluttering closed.

All the crying all day had drained her and her body could finally give up and relax now that she was in Papa’s hold; she was out like a light.

“You’re so important to me and daddy, sugar. Never ever forget that,” Sam whispered against her forehead before pressing a slow kiss to her skin.

She might've had no idea how adored and cherished she actually was, but that was okay. Sam and Bucky had a lifetime ahead of them where they could show her again and again that they loved and needed her just as much as she did them.

“Dada! Papa! Wake up! We have a swing!”

She’d fallen asleep pretty early in the car last night and neither Sam nor Bucky had the heart to wake her up when they got home. So they took her shoes and socks off and tucked her in in their bed.

Now they had to deal with her waking up way too early. She’d gone to the bathroom on her own like a good girl before her stomach hungrily grumbled. And when she got to the kitchen for a cup of water and maybe the plate of fruit in the fridge, her eyes fell on the swing showing outside the small window on the kitchen door.

Bucky rolled over and opened his eyes first, her jumping on her knees on the bed beside him pulling him out of his dreams. Sam, however, didn’t move a muscle. The man slept so soundly that sometimes Bucky was jealous. How heavy of a sleeper could a person be?

“Yes, we do, baby.” Bucky chuckled. “Me and papa built it just for you.” He smiled sleepily at her excited face before annoyingly poking Sam’s back, “Sam, wake up.”

“Tank you, dada.” She settled back on her ankles though still buzzing with joy.

“You like it, sugar?” Bucky opened his arms wide for her.

“Yes, I love it.” She nodded happily before perching herself on his hard chest, cutely kissing his jaw, “and I love you, dada.”

“Sam.” He affectionately punched his sleeping husband’s shoulder, smirking when he heard him groan, “she likes the swing.”

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bbytetsu · 4 years

Text

AWKWARD SEX MOMENTS WITH THE HAIKYUU BOYS

warnings: NSFW. mentions of vaginal sex, anal, menstruation, blowjobs, fingering, nipple play, car sex. plus swearing and a lot of secondhand embarrassment

author’s note: this is just a lil fun brain dump because i KNOW that for all the filthy smut we have on the boys, we need a lil laugh too <3

kuroo: ceo of lubing it up but one time his dick slipped and went in your ASS instead. you blacked out and couldn’t sit down for a week.

kenma: greasy ass mf. it used to be ABSOLUTELY unbearable to suck his dick because he doesn’t wash well around there. like is something fermenting in his pubic hairs? kombucha? you’ll never know.

akaashi: learned to dirty talk by stumbling across smut online and so he was a lil too poetic for his own good. cue the “i’m going to insert my thick juicy cock into your core now.” oops!

bokuto: thought queefs were farts for the longest time. the first time you queefed, he jokingly suggested that maybe you shouldn’t have ate all that chipotle by yourself. the second time, he pulled out to tell you he wouldn’t be mad if you had to take a shit right now.

atsumu: you once got your period in the middle of sex and he was like “oh shit, guess my dick’s just too big 😏 🤫 you okay, though?” I SWEAR-

osamu: he forgets to tell you that the walls are thin in his shared apartment so right as you’re about to climax, his twin goes screaming “TELL THEM TO KEEP IT DOWN OVER THERE, ‘SAMU!” also, he didn’t know how to play with your boobs for the longest time. he’d just pinch your nipples and that’d be it.

suna: didn’t understand the concept of aftercare. after having sex, he’d either fall asleep immediately or just get up to play nba 2k (butt ass naked, too!) without saying a word.

sakusa: assumes that vaginas are supposed to smell like vanilla and flowers, so the first time he goes down on you he asks you why your pussy smells like that. pussy pass REVOKED.

oikawa: this cocky lil bitch. once asked if you would "die for his dick.” it was a bit much so you said no. he pretended not to hear you.

iwaizumi: for your anniversary, he sprinkled some flower petals in the room and put up a big bouquet of flowers on his nightstand. he ended up triggering your pollen allergy. you half sneezed half moaned through sex, but it was a cute gesture!

kunimi: used to suck at fingering, sorry. he’d just stick his fingers in your pussy and leave it there like he was waiting to perform a jutsu in your coochie

mattsun: you’re giving him that double twisty gawk gawk when you decide hm! let’s switch things up a little. so you move your mouth down to his balls and start licking them. he forgot to tell you that his balls are ticklish beforehand and KNEES you in the face.

makki: it’s not just a moment, it’s the whole thing. he wants to have car sex soooo bad but he drives a such small car like a honda fit. you have to roll down the backseat window and stick your head out in doggy position so the two of you can fit 💀

ushijima: for someone who grunts a lot while playing volleyball, it’s weird how silent, i mean DEAD SILENT, he’d be while having sex. and he can’t take a hint so you had to tell him straight up that you felt like you were fucking a serial killer

tendou: shot cum into his own EYE. god it hurts thinking about this but basically he thought he was done cumming, he was just casually inspecting his dick, and then there’s an unexpected squirt!

nishinoya: used to be lil too aggressive on your clit. he’d be biting on it like a rabid dog 😭 but when you tell him to be gentler, it’s too soft. we appreciate the enthusiasm though, he’ll eat you out while swinging his legs in the air!

tanaka: he tries to list out nintendo characters in his head during sex so he doesn’t cum too fast, but “waluigi” once slipped out of his mouth while he was cumming. cuddles after sex have never been more awkward!!

asahi: just couldn’t spank you for the longest time. he is a gentle giant after all, but if you asked to get your hair pulled or ass smacked like he’d give u that weak shit... like where’s all the power, ace?

daichi: keeps asking if you’ve cum yet as if he’s tryna manifest your orgasm!! who is gonna tell this man that you can’t cum from just penetration? you finally decide enough is enough and show him the way to your clit

suga: this one time, his mom kept calling him like every!! 3!! minutes!! and being the mama’s boy that he is, he ends up excusing himself to pick up the phone. andddd later you find out it wasn’t even about anything important 🙄

futakuchi: his first time with you, he nuts too quickly, which completely destroys his pride. he tells you he needs a moment and leaves to take a walk...

terushima: he has the WORST sex playlist. like he’s pretty smooth otherwise, you’ll be in his bed raring to go until he starts playing his shitty soundcloud rapper "remember the times we had. the times you and me had” r&b playlist. and even worse it’s full of ADS 😭

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

Dethroned (Requested)

A/N: I know the request said the relationship between Reader and Luke is platonic, but I kinda dropped subtle hints that Luke is slightly pining for Reader... oop.

Request: smutty post-prison Reid being jealous. Like him just being absolutely in love with reader, like he had been since she joined the BAU but was too nervous to say anything so settled for being mega close best friends. Then when he returns from prison he finds out that her and Luke have become close friends whilst he’s been gone (its simply platonic though) and he ends up snapping and just absolutely annihilating the reader over her desk in the office after everyone else has left

Pairing: Post Prison!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: jealous!spencer, exhibition, hair pulling, degradation/praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.9K

______

It was a gradual realization on his part. Spencer was so overwhelmed with coming home, his mom and Cat to even really take notice in the shift of your attention from him to Luke Alvez.

It wasn’t like you completely ignored him since his return. You were Spencer’s best friend, the title he settled on all those years ago when you all but skipped into the BAU and into his life.

And it wasn’t like you didn’t have other male friends. Before his leave, Derek and you had gotten along pretty well right off the bat, and Spencer never thought about it twice. If anything, he was ecstatic that two people that were so important in his life were also important to each other.

But when Spencer was stuck behind physical bars that represented every feeling for you he’s tried to keep at bay, you found comfort in Luke. He couldn’t blame you for that either, especially when the first time you visited him all he could see was hurt in your eyes, and all he could do was stare back with the same expression.

The first time he noticed the shift was after everything had settled, and the groove of life, for the team at least, was back in motion. You all had decided to go out and grab a drink, and the second you agreed, Spencer was also on board. He would follow you just about anywhere if it meant the smile on your face when he said yes stayed forever.

Luke had whispered something in your ear, the music in the bar too loud for Spencer to catch what it was. It had to be hilarious by the way you threw your head back in laughter, Luke’s eyes immediately dropping to the newly exposed skin, before nudging his shoulder with yours.

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off the conversation in front of him. He should have when the grip on his glass was so hard it could’ve shattered.

“You know, kid, if you talked to her, she’d know how you feel,” Rossi had told him that night.

“That’s exactly why I can’t,” Spencer thought in his head, but merely gave Rossi a whatever, and walked away to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror that night, hoping the disgust he felt for how angry he got whenever he saw you with Luke was enough to make it disappear.

It never did.

Like right now, Spencer sat at his desk, a rubber band ball being suffocated in his hand as he watched you perch yourself on top of Luke’s desk. It was an innocent act on you part, but the way Luke leaned back in his chair, opening himself up to you, and allowed his eyes to flicker to your bare legs that were swinging back and forth softly was definitely not innocent... not in Spencer’s book anyway.

It came as no surprise to Spencer that Luke would at the very least find you attractive. You were, in every aspect. Spencer could stare at your for hours, and sometimes, he did.

He would look at the way your skirt hugged your curves in the best possible way, or he would stare at your neck when you leaned back to stretch out. He would watch the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, a nervous habit you’ve always had. Spencer would think about how soft they probably were, like silk rubbing against each other.

But now Luke was also looking at you like that while you talked about what you were going to do this weekend.

“If you’re not busy, you should totally come,” you told him, obviously excited with the idea of Luke tagging along to wherever you planned on going.

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he agreed, and when he did, you jumped up off his desk, enthusiasm practically dripping from you.

“Yes! It’ll be so much fun, I promise!” And then you did the one thing Spencer silently begged you would never. You kissed Luke on the cheek before scurrying back to your desk.

Of course you would kiss him on the cheek. To you, that was a seemingly innocent and friendly action, one that Spencer had been on the receiving end of for the past 10 years.

But now, Luke stole his crown and was flaunting it in front of Spencer’s face like an older brother who just got an XBOX for Christmas. Okay, maybe Spencer was a tad on the dramatic side, but how could he not be when Luke all but physically railed you over his desk when his eyes unashamedly did?

There were many things Spencer could take and get back up like nothing had happened. He’s been shot, punched, kicked, framed for murder and hell, he even stabbed himself, but none of that compared to the deep rooted anger that blossomed in his chest like a flame to gasoline when the thought of Luke touching you swarmed his brain.

Enough was enough.

“Alright, you’ve all worked enough today. Please, go home and get some rest,” Emily’s voice traveled from outside her office door to the agents that still inhabited the bullpen like a second home. Most, including Emily in its rarity, gathered their stuff to finally call it a night.

“So, you’ll text me the information?” Luke asked you as he was putting his jacket on. You had yet to move from your slouched position over whatever paperwork you insisted on finishing before leaving.

“Yeah, definitely!” You beamed up at him before returning back to your case file immediately. Luke walked away with a little more pep in his step than usual per Spencer’s analysis.

“Hey, Spence. Do you think you can hang back a second and look over this for me?” You asked him, catching the attention of the stumbling genius as he tried to get back to his apartment as fast as possible and deal with his... issues with you and SSA Luke Alvez.

He was going to say no, really he tried, but when he looked up to your puppy dog eyes and slight pout, how could he? Spencer knew you were giving him that face on purpose, he had told you in the past that if you were to ever give him your best puppy dog eyes, he could never refuse.

Now it was coming back to bite him in the...

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Spencer made his way over to your desk that was piled high in paperwork more than anyone else’s.

“I took a bunch of work home, and I accidentally dropped all my files and they scattered every where. So now, all the paperwork is mixed up and Emily needs these by tonight. Basically I’m screwed, but I just wanted to make sure the arsonist in Kentu-”

“I’ll help you,” Spencer interrupted your rambling once he got a grip on himself after adjusting to being so close to you. The smell of your perfume wafted into Spencer’s nose and got him drunk faster than any alcohol could ever.

“Oh no, Spence. Don’t worry I can handle this,” you immediately shut him down, but Spencer was not easy to convince, and once his mind is set to something, there’s no changing it.

“I want to, trust me.” Spencer had started to roll his desk chair over to you. You sat there momentarily stunned for two reasons:

1. He had dropped everything to help you.

2. He wasn’t affected by the close proximity of you two the same way you were, or at least knew how to hide it really well.

The buzzing of your phone on your desk pulled you from your trance as Spencer settled next to you and went to pull a new file from your overgrowing pile.

You picked it up to find a text from Luke, opening your phone to a picture of Roxy enjoying the toy you got her last week.

Spencer turned to you to find you smiling and letting out a breathy laugh at your phone.

“What?” He asked, more sarcasm dripping from his tone than expected. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything.

“Just Luke and Roxy. I love that dog so much,” you said while putting your phone on silent and setting it face down. You didn’t look up at Spencer, but if you did you’d find him beet red with anger, and holding the armrests of his chair a little tighter than necessary.

“Hm,” was all he mumbled in response. This, you didn’t ignore.

“Is something wrong? You really don't have to do this with me,” you fumbled over your words, worried that your clumsiness and disorganization was what was annoying Spencer.

“No no, it’s not this. I like paperwork, actually.” You finally looked over at Spencer to find him already staring at you. His gaze bore into you like a blade to the gut, his intensity something you had never been on the receiving end of. It would be a lie if you were to say it wasn’t making you nervous.

“Then what is it.” Your words were not meant to come out as a whisper, but with Spencer’s intimidation and the way it made your stomach flip, you were overwhelmed already.

“Nothing, just, uh,” his confident persona was gone just as quickly as it came. “You and Luke, huh?”

Now it makes sense. You couldn’t help the small smile that etched across your features at his unknowing admission. Spencer Reid was jealous, actually jealous.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend.” Your emphasis on the word friend did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting the words crawling up his throat out.

“I’m sure he thinks the same about you. The profile in this case fi-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Two can play at this game, and if it was going to end the way the two of you were unknowingly both hoping, you would have to succumb to the rules.

“Hm? Oh! So you’re oblivious to the way he looks at you?” Spencer spat back, jealous intimidation turning to full anger now.

“Jesus, Spencer. Of course I’m not oblivious, but that doesn’t mean I look at him like that.” At this point, you stood up from your chair, Spencer’s approach throwing you off and getting you more worked up than you cared to admit.

“Besides, I have eyes for someone else,” you mumbled quietly under your breath, but Spencer caught it. “I’m calling the night. I suggest you do the same.”

You picked up as many files you could, not wanting to reach over Spencer before turning around to make you descent home.

Before you could get far, though, Spencer grabbed your elbow and spun you back to crash into his hard chest. You gasped, not making eye contact and instead opting for staring at his lips.

“Who?” Spencer asked, also not looking up from your lips. Both of your minds swarmed with the desperation to feel each other’s against your own.

“You.” And that was all he needed to finally succumb to his mind’s wishes. Your lips moved together like a violin bow to a string, creating a perfectly conducted symphony of files falling from your arms and deep inhales of each other.

Spencer reached out behind you, never taking his lips off yours and pushed anything that was on your desk with a deafening crash. Pens, papers and tape now littered the bullpen floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when all you could feel were Spencer’s hands gripping your waist as he hoisted you up to sit you on your now clear desk.

His lips finally detached from yours, the need for oxygen getting in the way of a kiss you wish could last for eternity. They didn’t go very far, Spencer attacking your neck with little nips, surely to leave incriminating bruises. Your hips started to involuntarily roll forward, searching for friction from his hardening member still constrained by his work slacks.

“Spencer, please,” you begged, needing to feel him, all of him at this moment. His lips abandoned your neck to slowly pull back and scan your body like a predator indulging in his final prey one last time before he answered.

“Please what, Princess,” Spencer whispered, his hands moving down to grip your thighs that were attempting to squeeze together at your new pet name.

“Please, fuck me,” you whimpered back. His deep chuckle resonated through you as he leaned closer until he was directly next to your ear, his hot breath fanning down your neck causing you to arch your back slightly.

“Right here on your desk like a little whore,” he whispered against you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. Spencer shook his head slightly as he pulled back to grab your chin lightly with two fingers, forcing your head back.

He leaned in as close as possible to whisper against your lips one last time. “Only for you.”

Time stopped as hands sped up in a frenzy to rip each other’s clothes off, lips molding together like a lock and key never wanting to separate, and hips involuntarily grinding against each other in search for some friction in an overwhelming search for release.

Only when Spencer gave up on your shirt buttons and ripped the fabric apart, adding drums in the form of buttons hitting the desk and floor to the song you two collectively decided to dance to tonight, did he allow his lips to leave yours. Slowly, he nipped his way back down your neck, pushing you back softly until your body fully rolled down on the cool wood underneath you.

Spencer’s eyes found yours again as his hands inched behind you, silently asking for permission to break down yet another barrier between your two bodies. After a pleading whimper from you, he unclasped your bra and slowly pulled it down your arms.

Spencer maintained eye contact as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak before sinking his teeth in teasingly. Your back arched into him, a strangled whimper leaving your body as the heat between your thighs increased significantly.

“Spencer please hurry. I need you,” you whimpered softly, pulling his hair back from the top of his head in hopes of getting him in an area far more dire in need of attention.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Spencer mumbles in between kisses inching back up your body. His hands make their way under your skirt as he continues. “I want to take my time with you, but given our circumstances,” he paused to take a look at the deserted bullpen. “I’ll give you what you want, and fuck you like a whore.”

There was no other way to explain the way Spencer ripped your panties off so hard the lace snapped under his force than animalistic. He wasted no time stuffing them into his back pocket, and fully separating from you to stand straight and unbuckle his belt. Spencer’s eyes stared down at you, taking in every part of your body to file away in his brain in case he ever needs it. His once honey brown orbs were now absorbed with black, his pupils full and his eyes displaying a kind of fire only lust can fuel.

Once his belt was fully off, he smirked and folded it in his hands. Staring at the new object of his desire, he tantalizingly shook it back and forth slowly, watching the way it bounced with his movements.

“Should I gag you with this so you don't alert the whole goddamn building of how desperate you are?” Spencer looked back at you to find your cheeks a deep shade of red, partially at his degrading tone, but mostly at the idea of being gagged.

“No, sir. I wanna feel you.” The title slipped past your lips with no control or hesitation. Your cheeks burned further as Spencer’s movements stopped, his eyes widening slightly.

“Fuck it,” he whispered before throwing the belt on the floor and unzipping his pants with more speed than you've ever seen him move.

Spencer gave you zero time to even register his size before he was stepping in between your legs, lining himself up and slamming into you to the hilt with one hand, the other grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling back hard, all while never taking his eyes off you.

You couldn’t stop the loud gasp leaving your body as Spencer groaned at the feeling of you around him.

“God, you’re so fucking tight, Princess,” he grounded out, the soft growl in his tone causing you to whimper and clench around him.

When he felt you start to squirm underneath him after adjusting to his size, Spencer started to move, setting a brutal pace immediately. Your entire body felt like it became engulfed in flames, the feeling of Spencer repeatedly hitting the sweetest spot inside you over and over with a force unmatched was too much to handle.

Tears started to well in your eyes as the soft whimpers and pleads left your lips. Spencer pulled himself from his position tucked neatly into your neck to stare down at you, never relenting on his pace.

“What’s wrong, Princess,” he teased, a smirk growing across his features at your tears. “Is it too much for your little cunt? What happened to the girl that begged to be fucked like a whore?”

Spencer let go of his grip on your hair to wipe the tears blackened with mascara that were running down your face.

“So good, sir. Please don’t stop,” you mumbled, only half coherent. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer filling you completely. His dark eyes flickered down from your face only for a second, but when he looked back up at you, excitement joined the lust in them, a swirl of emotions destined to destroy you in the end.

Spencer grabbed one of your hands that was gripping his shoulder, nails digging into the skin and leaving marks he wished would last forever. He placed in on your stomach, and confusion filled your mind for a moment until you felt the tip of his cock hit your hand.

“You feel that, Princess? You feel how deep I am? I’m gonna fill you up.” Your back arched, and you finally released a loud, wanton moan at his words. Spencer didn’t miss the way you clenched around him tighter at the thought. “God, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, make you - fuck- carry my child. Make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

You felt the knot in your stomach growing tighter with each word, and when Spencer lifted one of your legs into the crook of his elbow, hitting you impossibly deeper, you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

“Oh G-god, Spence. I- I’m gonna....”

“It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got you,” he groaned back, lifting two fingers to your lips before forcing them into your mouth. Instinctively, you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on his digits. “Let go, Princess.”

All you needed was his permission before letting your orgasm rock through you, the muscles in your body seemingly losing and gaining all the tension in the world at once, your vision going white, and your mind blank except for one thought; Spencer.

Your loud moans were blocked by his fingers pushing deeper down your throat, catching them before any unwanted guests could hear.

Your moans started to turn to whimpers around his fingers as the overstimulation kicked in. Spencer could sense it by the way you still clung to him as tightly as possible.

“Fuck that’s it. You’re doing so well, Princess, taking all of me,” he growled out, his hips losing their rhythm, signaling his own impending orgasm. Spencer leaned down further, pushing your leg farther up in the process, and again, hitting you deeper than imaginable.

Two more sloppy thrusts in that position, and Spencer was coming deep in you with your name and different praises being groaned in your ear. He bottomed out once more, coming to a stop buried deep, both of you trying your hardest to catch your breath.

When he started to pull out, you whimpered immediately at the feeling.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m almost done,” Spencer whispered, caressing your cheek as he fully unsheathed himself. The abandoned weight of him on top of you, and the loss of his cock filling you up left you cold as he went to rummage through your drawers for tissues, but all you could do was stare up at the lights hanging from the ceiling, your body still slightly twitching.

When Spencer returned to you, he sat you up and kissed your forehead before reaching in between your legs to clean you up. The second the tissue hit your sensitive cunt, you winced.

Spencer looked back up at you but before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling softly as you reached up to caress his cheek. Upon your approval, he went back to cleaning you up. “Actually, I’m more than okay. That was.. That was-”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. “I know, right?”

“Maybe we should thank Luke,” you teased him. Immediately, his smile faded and he looked up at you with an expression that can only read “Seriously?”

You let out a full laugh now, obviously still entertained with the idea that the Dr. Spencer Reid was jealous of Luke Alvez.

“I’m joking,” you said, your smile turning from one of hilarity to adoration as Spencer straightened back up to stand between your legs and wrap his arms around your waist. “And Spence, it’s always been you. Not Luke, not anyone else. You.” You emphasized your point by jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Good, because that would make this really awkward,” he said back. You tilted your head in confusion to which he laughed at before continuing. “Do you want to go grab dinner?”

Your cheeks blushed profusely as he asked you out as if you didn’t just let him take you over your own desk at work.

“I would love to say yes, but I still have to finis-” When you turned around to look at the pile of paperwork you had yet to complete, it was no longer on your desk, but scattered around it. During the rush of trying to feel each other completely, the two of you failed to notice the stack of files that started this whole thing had fallen all over the bullpen floor.

“Emily is going to kill me,” you said, turning back to Spencer who was still staring at the now empty spot on your desk.

“Actually, she has two reasons to kill us now.” You threw you head back in laughter, Spencer joining you at the thought of Emily finding out about the last 30 minutes. “But seriously, you go deal with the security footage, and I’ll deal with the paperwork.”

“Hmmmm...” You pretended to ponder the thought of not having to do all of that paperwork by yourself anymore. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Spencer repeated back, smiling softly before kissing you one more time.

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harrysgoldenline · 3 years

Note

can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol

When In Italy

It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.

It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”

She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.

“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”

“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”

“Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.

“You can do this.”

***

You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.

After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”

You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.

“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.

“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.

“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”

You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.

You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.

***

After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.

Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.

Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.

You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.

Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.

A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.

It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.

You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.

You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.

Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.

“Y/N?”

—————————————————————————

Part 2 anyone???

ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles headcannon #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles request #fic rec #harry styles #harry styles dirty imagine #harry styles one shot

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helpistolethesecharacters · 3 years

Text

All Secrets Have a Habit of Coming Out

Hello all, this was for @iiblueberry-15ii

Hope it's all you wanted from your request :)

Ron Weasley x Male Potter Reader

Word Count: 1464

Just a little note, I only know a cursory amount about Twin-to-Twin Transfusion Syndrome, just what a quick google search could reveal so it might not be the most accurate, but I did my best, so I hope this ticks the box for what you wanted @iiblueberry-15ii

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

Everyone may have only known his brother's name when they first entered Hogwarts, but Y/n Potter had worked hard to fix that.

He had always been smaller and more frail than his twin brother Harry due to a rare condition that had affected them during pregnancy called Twin-to-Twin Transfusion Syndrome.

Essentially an imbalance during development made Harry receive more blood (and thus nutrients) than he gave back.

If this had been explained properly in a caring and loving environment, Harry might not have felt so guilty about it. Unfortunately for the twins, they grew up with their Aunt, Uncle and cousin, all of which took every opportunity to cause them pain. It had been spat at them one day when they were much younger that it was all Harry's fault that his twin brother wasn't as healthy as he was.

This all lead to Harry becoming incredibly overprotective of Y/n. He couldn't take more than two steps outside of Hogwarts during winter without Harry pushing extra scarves and coats into his arms and telling him to rug up more. Guilt was a great motivator, and Harry felt awful that Y/n was weaker than him physically.

Y/n couldn't play quidditch either because his lungs had suffered during development as well.

Y/n had, in his lower moments, like when his older brother (by like ten minutes Harry!) won a game of quidditch, or came back from some fantastic adventure that he had forbidden him from joining them on, allowed the hate to take root just that little bit more.

But he would wake up the next morning and realise that it couldn't possibly be his brothers fault. It was just an accident of life that this had happened.

He would be reminded in every class that there were some things that he could do that Harry just couldn't. His brother might be naturally talented with power for his magic, but as his favourite saying played through his head he would think about that instead. Hard work beats talent when talent doesn't work hard.

Y/n truly shone in classes too. He worked just as hard as Hermione at his studies, and it paid off. Often, when they got back essays or test results they were the top two in the class.

This naturally made the two a lot closer, as they were practically a built in study buddy for the other.

As they were getting older and reaching the age that people started to notice the other gender (or their own in Y/n's case) other guys would come up and ask him about Hermione.

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

Y/n couldn't believe the stupidity of his own gender sometimes. That had been the forth time today that he had had to fend off another guy who only wanted to get into the female bookworms pants while getting their homework done for free.

He stormed back into the Gryffindor common room in a huff.

He landed with a thump on the couch beside Ron and pouted.

"Guys suck."

Ron looked up from his homework which was looking rather untouched.

"I could do with a break anyway, been at this near five minutes. What's up Y/n?"

He sat back up closer to the other boy, giving him his full attention.

Ron wasn't sure what it was about Y/n, but there was just something that made him want to spend all day staring at him, or listening to him talk about the things that made him get all excited. He made the cutest faces when he got all worked up, eyes shining brighter than any star in the sky.

Okay, so he knew why he felt that way, heck, he had even acted on it. He still couldn't believe his luck when Y/n had agreed to go on a date with him. Of course they had had to pull off some pretty fast talking to get their friends to stay behind without it seeming like they wanted to be alone.

Ron focused back in just in time to see Y/n narrow his eyes at him.

Oops, he had noticed that he wasn't paying attention to him.

Ron cringed slightly.

"Sorry, was just thinking."

He cast a furtive look around the room, but they were pretty much alone right now. He was sure that wouldn't last.

Y/n just looked curious now.

"About what?"

Ron shifted awkwardly. Feelings weren't really his forte.

"About how I must've used up all the luck I had stored up for the next few years just to get you to agree to go out with me."

Ron sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck, knowing that he was blushing.

Y/n was blushing when Ron had managed to gather up enough courage to look over at him.

They went to move closer, but their moment was ruined by the portrait entrance slamming open to let in some other Gryffindors.

"Later?"

"Later."

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

Y/n and Ron had stayed up much later than anyone else. It wasn't unusual for Y/n, but Ron knew the only way it wouldn't look suspicious for him to stay up was to pretend to be engrossed in a game of chess. He had thought of his homework at first, but then realised that he was usually the first one to give up, so working on it for hours unprovoked would be almost more suspicious than anything else he could come up with.

By the time that midnight rolled around Y/n and Ron had been alone in the common room for just under an hour. In that time they hadn't moved closer. They didn't want to risk it when people might still be remembering that one last thing they had accidentally left in the common room. Nothing said guilty like two teenagers springing apart as someone comes down the stairs.

It was Y/n who made the call. He stretched and shoved his book into the bag before moving over to the couch.

Ron could take a hint, no matter what anyone said, and followed Y/n over.

They sat looking at each other for a minute, just taking the other in.

"It's pretty exhausting hiding this, huh?"

"Yeah," Ron answered. "I sort of thought it might be kind of fun, but it's mostly just tiring. Can't really enjoy spending time together when we're constantly looking over our shoulders."

Y/n gave a half smile.

"Still worth it?"

Ron grinned back and reached out for Y/n instead of answering.

"Can I kiss you?"

Y/n nodded too fast and almost fell over.

Their lips met while they were both still laughing.

They didn't keep laughing for long. It had been a long week for them both, and they hadn't had very much time alone lately.

Things were just about to get more heated when they heard a noise from behind the couch.

They froze, still looking into each others eyes, then they pulled away from each other faster than either of them had ever moved before.

"Yeah, bit late for that really."

Neither of them had hear Harry's voice sound so cold.

Y/n turned to face his brother who had apparently walked in on them making out.

Well, at least everyone was just as embarrassed as each other judging by the blush on Harry's face.

Ron and Y/n watched Harry silently from opposite edges of the couch.

Harry clenched his jaw several times before seeming to try to calm himself.

"Ron. A word."

Y/n cringed. Well, it had been nice knowing Ron, but Y/n was pretty sure he would be helping to bury his body soon.

Y/n watched as Ron and Harry made their way over to one of the windows. He pouted, he couldn't hear anything from where he was. He sat back and crossed his arms as he waited for Harry to come back and deal with him.

-----------

Harry was so far past mad he didn't have a word for it anymore.

His little brother, who was smaller and just generally more frail, was apparently down here making out with Ron.

What the hell were they thinking?

And hiding it, Harry was sure neither of them had been thinking properly.

"What exactly did you think you were doing with Y/n?"

He stated each word as clearly and calmly as he could, but he could still hear his voice shaking in his rage.

He waited for Ron to start explaining himself, but just as he opened his mouth, Harry decided he didn't much care what he had to say.

"Look, I think it was pretty obvious what you two were doing, but let me just say, as Y/n's older brother and the only member of his family who cares about him, if you ever do anything to hurt him. Well, I'll show you exactly why I'm considered a threat to Voldemort."

#ron weasley x male reader #ron weasley #Male reader #Harry Potter

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kjack89 · 2 years

Note

Oops! It send before I could send a ship! 😂 Enjolras/Grantaire! (For 37 or 73)

Since 37 was already requested and filled, that leaves...

73. "I Second that Emotion" by Smokey Robinson & The Miracles

Established E/R, Modern AU, high school AU.

Combeferre cleared his throat as he banged the water bottle they used in lieu of a gavel on the desk at the front of the classroom. “This meeting of Les Amis will now come to order,” he said. “Our first order of business—” He broke off as Bahorel’s hand shot in the air. “The Chair recognizes Mr. Bahorel.”

“Yeah, can I ask a question?” Bahorel asked.

Combeferre sighed. “I believe what you mean is—”

Bahorel rolled his eyes. “Fucking fine, point of goddamn inquiry.”

“State your point.”

“Why the fuck are we using goddamn Robert’s Rules for Les Amis meetings?”

Again Combeferre cleared his throat, a little more pointedly this time. “The Chair yields to Mr. Enjolras to answer Mr. Bahorel’s inquiry.”

“Because it’s more democratic this way,” Enjolras said eagerly. “Yes, parliamentary rules are flawed and it’s why we’ve allowed certain updates, but this way, we ensure everyone who wants to can speak, we ensure that everyone has the opportunity to weigh in on decisions, and— “

“And because Enjolras wants to practice for Boys State,” Feuilly added with a snicker.

The tips of Enjolras’s ears burned red. “And because it’s good practice for future endeavors,” he finished, a little weakly.

A few titters could be heard from the various corners of the room, and Combeferre waited for them to die down before continuing, “The Chair will now take a quorum vote.”

Joly raised his hand. “Mr. Chairman, I believe that vote is unnecessary at this time—”

Jehan’s hand shot up. “Can we talk about how using ‘Mr. Chair’ or ‘Madam Chair’ is outdated and excludes non-binary and genderqueer folks?”

Combeferre looked like he was very much regretting agreeing to act as chair that week. “We absolutely can have that conversation—”

“I’d like to make a motion,” Courfeyrac said loudly.

“Chair recognizes Mr. Courfeyrac for a motion to…”

Combeferre trailed off, waiting for Courfeyrac to elaborate on his motion, which he did, with a smug sort of smile “A motion to reconsider.”

“To reconsider what?” Combeferre asked.

Courfeyrac stood. “I move for Enjolras to reconsider Grantaire’s invitation to attend prom with him.”

Immediately, the room fell silent. Enjolras stood as well, his expression murderous as he glared at Courfeyrac. “That motion is out of order,” he snapped before switching his glare to Combeferre. “Combeferre, tell him that motion is out of order.”

Combeferre sighed. “Enjolras…”

“Tell him!” Enjolras snapped.

“I can’t.”

Enjolras gaped at him. “Why the hell not?”

“Let’s ask our parliamentarian,” Courfeyrac said brightly. “Marius?”

All eyes turned to Marius, who looked like he’d rather be dead than be sitting there. “Technically, according to the bylaws, if a member in good standing makes a motion, it must at least be debated.”

Courfeyrac fluttered his eyelashes at Enjolras, who scowled. “You should know, you wrote that provision.”

“That was to stop the chair from having unilateral power to block legislation!” Enjolras spluttered. “Not to encourage this farce—”

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Well, that’s egalitarianism for you. Besides, I’d save that for debate.”

“Not so fast,” Marius said. “The motion still needs to be seconded.”

Suddenly, no one seemed to want to make eye contact with either Enjolras or Courfeyrac. “Oh come on,” Courfeyrac said, scowling. “You can’t tell me that you all want to sit through another of their endless fights.”

Courfeyrac’s words were almost certainly true. Yes, Enjolras and Grantaire had been dating for the better part of a year, but that didn’t mean their relationship went any smoother than when they were both pretending as if they didn’t like each other. Enjolras turning down Grantaire’s invitation to prom was just the latest setback.

Still, no one spoke up, and Enjolras gave Courfeyrac a triumphant smile. “See,” he said, “now we can actually get back to the business at hand—”

“I second,” a voice called from the back of the room and Enjolras swiveled to glare at the offender, his glare faltering when he saw Grantaire’s hand in the air.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, and Grantaire met his glare unflinchingly.

“Personally, I’d like to hear what you have to say,” Grantaire said, something of a challenge in his voice. “I second the motion.”

Enjolras opened his mouth to protest but nothing came out. Seizing the moment, Combeferre said quickly, “All those in favor say aye, all those opposed say nay. In the opinion of the Chair, the ayes have it, and the motion to reconsider passes.”

“The motion can’t pass!” Enjolras burst, a little desperately. “A motion to reconsider is for legislation, not for personal decisions!”

Combeferre shuffled the papers on the desk in front of him, avoiding meeting Enjolras’s eyes. “The Chair will entertain a motion for the subcommittee of Enjolras and Grantaire to caucus in private.”

Enjolras glared at him. “Are you serious—” he seethed, but his forthcoming rant was cut off by Grantaire taking his elbow and steering him to the door.

“Come on,” Grantaire said under his breath. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner everyone will go back to whatever we’re supposed to be discussing.”

Enjolras tossed him a withering look, pulling his arm out of Grantaire’s grip. “We are supposed to be talking about the senior service project,” he said snidely as they walked through the hall, looking for another empty classroom. “Which you should care about, seeing as how you’re a senior.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had other things on my mind,” Grantaire muttered. “Like how my boyfriend turned me down when I asked him to prom, and how even his friends thought that was absolutely insane.”

“I cannot believe Courfeyrac would do this, no matter how insane he thinks I am,” Enjolras seethed, practically slamming the classroom door behind him. “Where he gets off thinking that he has any right—” Grantaire snorted and Enjolras glared at him. “And you, seconding his asinine motion—”

Grantaire just shrugged, plopping down in the vacant teacher’s chair. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said. “And if you hate the idea so much, why’d you go along with it?”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “There was a vote—” he started, but Grantaire cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but you had a lot of avenues for shutting this down if you had really wanted to.” He arched an eyebrow at Enjolras. “You could have asked for a recorded vote instead of a voice vote, for one. Or you could have mentioned that motions to reconsider can only be used to reconsider motions previously discussed during the current meeting, of which this wasn’t. Or that only someone who voted in the affirmative on the motion can move for it to be reconsidered, which Courfeyrac wasn’t.” He made a face. “Although, if it had been put to a vote, I’m sure he would’ve been.”

Enjolras sat down heavily on top of a desk. “How the hell do you know all that?”

Grantaire shrugged. “I read the book.”

“What book?”

Grantaire gave him a look. “Robert’s Rules of Order,” he said, like it was obvious.

“You…” Enjolras stared at him. “Why?”

Grantaire just shrugged again. “Because it was important to you.”

Enjolras bit his lip. “Is this your segue into how prom is important to you and therefore I should reconsider not going with you?”

“Well, not intentionally, but since you mentioned it…” Enjolras didn’t smile and Grantaire sighed, sitting forward in his chair. “Look, Enjolras, I didn’t come here today to try to force a public confrontation about this. And your no is a complete sentence, and I respect that. But what I don’t respect – or at least, what I don’t appreciate – is you turning me down without giving me any reason.”

“I know that,” Enjolras said quietly.

“I mean, we’ve been dating for almost a year,” Grantaire said, his voice steady. “Prom is kind of an expectation at this point. And you won’t even talk to me about it, other than to say that you’re too busy to talk.” He shrugged again. “So yeah, Courfeyrac was shitty to force this on us like this, but you can’t argue you’re too busy right now.”

Enjolras scowled slightly. “I could still try,” he said, though without any real heat.

Grantaire gave him a look. “Yeah. You could.” He arched an eyebrow as if waiting for Enjolras to try, and when he didn’t, he managed a brief smile before asking bluntly, “So what’s the reason? Is it that prom is antiquated and heteronormative? Because usually you like to use those occasions as opportunities to make a statement.:

Enjolras shook his head. “No, that’s not why.”

Grantaire nodded. “Is it because they vote on a prom king and queen?” He smiled again. “Because I can see how that would cause quite the conundrum for you, because monarchy, but elected monarchy.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Grantaire—”

“Come on, just tell me why,” Grantaire said, his tone turning wheedling. “I promise I can take it, whatever the reason.”

“Because you’re leaving!” Enjolras burst, and Grantaire froze, his smile disappearing. “Because four months from now, you’ll be packing up your car to go to school and I’m still here for another year. And I know that you’ll try to make this work long distance but you’ll be in college, and you deserve to experience that without having to think about your boyfriend stuck at home.” He shrugged and looked away. “So I guess I just thought starting with not going to prom together was an easy way to speed up the inevitable end.”

For one long moment, Grantaire just stared at Enjolras, his expression unreadable. Then he said, “You’re an idiot.”

Enjolras blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Enjolras, I love you.”

Grantaire said it patiently, like he was talking to a small child, and Enjolras scowled. “I know that, but—”

“No, no ‘but’s,” Grantaire said firmly. “Period, end of the sentence. I love you. If you had asked me three years ago I would have said that couples that get together in high school are idiots because they’re doomed to break up. Then I met you, and now…now I get it. There is nothing about college that I can’t experience while still dating you.” He gave Enjolras a look. “Hell, there’s nothing about college that I want to experience without still dating you.”

Enjolras took a moment to respond. “I believe that you believe that,” he said carefully, “but it’ll be different. You’ll be meeting new people, new guys, guys who are hot and, more importantly, there, and I don’t want to limit you or stop you from having fun.”

Grantaire stared at him. “Ok, you know I was not a virgin when we got together, right?” Enjolras scowled and Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I just mean, I’ve had enough fun to last me for the next four years, trust me.”

Enjolras flushed. “That’s not – you could fall in love with someone else!”

“Yeah. And so could you.” Enjolras shook his head but Grantaire didn’t let him interrupt. “But hypotheticals aren’t a reason to preemptively end this.” Again Enjolras shook his head and Grantaire stood, crossing to the front of the desk and perching against it so that he and Enjolras had nothing between them. “Look, I’m not going to pretend that this is going to be easy. But I’d like to think that what we have is worth putting in the work for. And I’ve never known you to be afraid of doing the hard work on far more impossible causes than this.”

For the first time, Enjolras managed a smile. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he allowed.

“And yet you still don’t seem convinced.”

Enjolras sighed. “I just don’t want to hold you back,” he told Grantaire. “I don’t want you to look back in two or three years and feel like there’s so much more you could’ve done if you weren’t thinking about me.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “The problem is that you’re presuming that I’ll be over you in two or three years. And I somehow doubt that would be the case.” He half-smiled. “The only thing breaking up with me will free me to do is be miserable and heartbroken. Which would be acceptable if you really didn’t want to date me anymore. But I don’t think that’s true.”

Enjolras shook his head. “It’s not,” he said, not bothering to pretend otherwise. “I love you, too, but—”

“You’ve got to stop saying that,” Grantaire sighed.

“—But,” Enjolras continued doggedly, “I love you enough to know that you deserve more.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what I deserve?” Grantaire challenged, and Enjolras didn’t have an answer for that. Grantaire straightened, taking a step closer to Enjolras. “I meant what I said before, your no is a complete answer, and I may seconded Courfeyrac’s motion, but I’m not asking you to reconsider, not unless you want to.” He reached out and took Enjolras’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “But if you want to break up with me, you’re gonna have to actually say it, and not use turning me down for prom as some kind of preliminary breakup.”

Enjolras squeezed his hand. “I don’t want to break up with you,” he said, hesitating before adding, “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t.”

Grantaire sighed. “Can we at least agree to table this conversation? At least until closer until I’m actually leaving?” he asked. “Because if there really is going to be an end date on this, then I still want the chance to spend as much time with you as I can.”

Enjolras couldn’t help but ask, with a small smile, “Including prom?”

“Only if you want to,” Grantaire assured him, before adding, “And only because I know how good you look in a tux.”

Enjolras groaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Grantaire’s shoulder. “I am going to kill my mom for showing you those pictures.”

“Are you kidding me?” Grantaire asked, grinning. “Those pictures gave me spank bank material for weeks…”

“Stop,” Enjolras said, but he was laughing. “Fine, we can go to prom together.”

Grantaire’s grin widened, though he hesitated before asking, “And the potential break up?”

Enjolras pretended to consider it for a moment. “The Chair will entertain a motion to table discussion.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes, but his grin was fond. “I move to table the discussion.”

“Seconded. All those in favor—” Grantaire leaned in and kissed him, and Enjolras grinned. “That’ll work.”

Grantaire kissed Enjolras once more before pulling away, his eyes darkening as he looked at Enjolras. “You know, it just occurred to me…we have this classroom to ourselves. And who knows how long it’ll take us to work this out.”

Enjolras frowned. “We already worked it out.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know that,” Grantaire said, kissing along Enjolras’s jawline.

Enjolras laughed again, but his laugh was a little more breathless this time. :The Chair considers that motion out of order at this time,” he said, mock-sternly, laughing once more as Grantaire tugged him up, pulling him backward before settling back in the teacher’s chair and pulling him onto his lap.

“Fine,” Grantaire said, kissing him once more. “Motion to adjourn so that we can do whatever the hell we want.”

Enjolras cocked his head. “And what is it the gentleman wants to do?”

“You, mostly.”

Enjolras grinned. “Seconded,” he said, leaning in and kissing Grantaire before telling him, “this meeting stands adjourned to the call of the Chair.”

“I love when you talk dirty to me,” Grantaire said with a laugh. “So how much time do you think we’ve got before they start looking for us?”

Enjolras considered it. “I’d say a half hour or so.”

Grantaire grinned. “Thankfully there’s a lot I can do in a half hour.”

He leaned in to kiss Enjolras once more, but Enjolras pressed a hand against his chest, stopping him. “And there’s a lot we can do in four months.”

Grantaire’s smiled faded. “I thought we had tabled this conversation.”

“We have,” Enjolras said. “But I didn’t want it to end with just that hanging over us. Because I love you, and I don’t want you to doubt that.”

“And I don’t,” Grantaire told him. “You know I don’t believe in much, but you’re the one thing I’ve never doubted. And I’m not gonna start now.”

Enjolras wrapped his arms around Grantaire’s neck and kissed him for a long moment before telling him, with a small smile, “I second that.”

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #les amis #all of them but i'm not tagging them all #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #high school au #established relationship #gratuitous use of robert's rules of order #parli-pro for the win #ask #answered #saras-almanac

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

Ooh for a fluff piece you should do Hyrule and Warriors and something with claustrophobia (although that has the potential for angst real fast so feel free to ignore me)

Oops, I think my hand slipped.....

(Sorry I didn't get to this for so long, I've been crazy busy and wasn't sure how to approach writing angst until people apparently started crying at my attempt at crack :)

Glass.

Glass walls and a glass floor. A cork ceiling and too little air, too little space to breathe, too little space to function.

Hyrule’s breath hitches again with a silent whimper, his glow fading slowly with every second spent inside of his prison. Outside, he can hear the reverberating shouts of the others, fear and worry in their voices as they call out, likely shouting for him, looking and worrying and screaming in concern.

‘I’m right here!’ He wants to call back, wants to wail to the glass walls that press closer and closer around him. ‘Guys, I’m here, let me out!’ But they won’t hear. They won’t hear his tiny voice, especially not when it’s trapped inside this glass prison.

“Any sign?” The vet’s voice is strained and desperate, violet eyes flickering with fear as they dart from one tired Hero of Courage to another. “He’s got to be here somewhere!”

“Nothing.” There are tears in Sky’s eyes, and even if he’s clearly trying to be strong for the others there’s a heavy slump to his shoulders as if the weight of all of their problems hangs from them. “Twilight and I looked all over, his trail just...ends...”

“He’s got to be somewhere!” Wind protests, voice breaking and fists clenching as the sailor looks over each of them, fear and worry in the kid’s eyes as he stubbornly denies the report Twilight gently gives the rest of them.

It’s not a pretty sight.

Hyrule had only wandered off for a minute while they’d all freshened up in the stream near their camp, but that was all the time needed for him to disappear, tracks ending suddenly and no sign of him, not even a droplet of blood or a broken blade of grass left behind for them to track him with. It was Four who noticed, and while jokes and laughter had sounded as they all teased each other about the Traveler getting lost, the jokes had faded when Twilight had come back, eyes shining with worry as he informed them of Hyrule’s lack of a trail.

All mirth had died then, and eight dripping heroes had abandoned all save their weapons to search for their brother. Their cheeks redden in the cooling night air, Four sneezing occasionally as he pulls his tunic over his head while they speak. None of the others bother, standing about in all states of dress as they consider what to do.

“We’ve searched everything within two miles.” Wild murmurs pensively. “And there’s only one trail, even Hyrule can’t cover his tracks so well that Twilight can’t find him.”

“But I can’t find him, Cub.” Twilight’s voice is almost a whine, eyes pained as the rancher sits with his head in his hands. “There’s no signs! It’s like he just, vanished!”

Time’s heavy hand comes to rest on his protégé's shoulders, rubbing gently over them in an attempt at comfort that Twilight shows no interest in accepting.

They’re worn, Warriors sighs to himself. His brothers have been pushing themselves for weeks and today was meant to be a day of rest and rejuvenation beside the river. But here they sit, worry carving lines across the faces of even their youngest, shoulders drawn up close to ears or slumped in resignation. It’s been hours, Hyrule should be back by now.

Sky’s tired gaze meets his own over the heads of the younger heroes, there’s determination fighting against reassignment inside of sapphire blue, but Sky forces a weak smile for his sake, silent words passing between the two before both nod in finality. “There’s no sign-”

“We know that Sky!” The vet snaps, hands buried in his still dripping hair. “Twilight, you have your things, right?” The vet asks pointedly, breath hitching and coming in short little bursts as he looks up to the rancher.

Twilight nods, dropping one hand to tug at something hidden under his collar “Yeah.”

“Does Hyrule has any items that let him fly? Oh Nayru! I should have asked him!” The vet’s panicking now, and it’s agitating the younger heroes as his feet tap nervously at the ground, hands shaking as they run repeatedly through his bangs and tap against his thighs.

Wind’s worrying at the hem of his tunic and Wild scratches at his scars, and Warriors has no doubt that if Four wasn’t shivering and wrapping himself in his arms that the smithy would also be fidgeting nervously.

Sky sighs heavily, grabbing his sailcloth from the ground and wrapping it around the smithy’s shoulders carefully. “Like I said, there’s no sign so far. But we have to trust in Hyrule’s abilities. The traveler’s a tough egg, he doesn’t break easily and he knows what he’s doing in a forest, especially a dangerous one.” The Skyloftian shoots Legend a pointed glance, cutting off the young veteran before he can start fussing again. “It’s getting dark and we won’t be able to see, and if we’re too loud and keep disturbing the forest, we’ll only alert any monsters that might be around here to our presence. We’ll make camp here for the night and keep looking in the morning, after everyone has a warm meal.”

“He’s out there!” Legend insists.

“And he’s strong. I can’t help Hyrule right now, none of us can, not in this darkness. But I can make sure you all rest and get something to eat.” Sky’s voice gentles as he lays a hand on Legend’s bare shoulder. “We’ll find him, Bun, have a little faith in the traveler.”

The vet looks instants away from protesting, from shouting something harsh that he probably doesn’t mean. He’s worried, they all are, but Legend responds worst of all of them to injury or illness, and his protégé going missing doesn’t seem to be an exception.

It’s Time’s voice that cuts through the tension, face stern as he meets the veteran’s eyes. “Rest. We’re no good to Hyrule if we can’t walk a straight line. Cub,” Wild’s ears prick forwards, attentive and eager for orders. The little soldier shows his training, even though he might not remember it; eager for a task to complete to distract from the tension, needing a job to focus on instead of his own spiraling thoughts. It draws a tiny smile to Warriors’ face as he watches. “Could you mix up something warm for everyone? We’ll eat and head to bed, Sky and I can take first watch, Warriors and Wild will have second,” Always best to put the two war heroes together on second watch, less chance of waking the others with their nightmares. “And Twilight and Four can take second.”

Again, Legend looks like he might protest, but their leader fixes him with a stern look. “Vet, try to sleep, please.”

Little chance of that, he muses, watching as the vet huffs and kicks at the dirt, Legend’s a worrier, even if he would never admit it, and if anyone’s going to be up all night long fussing and fidgeting, it’ll be him. What Warriors wouldn’t give to pull Ravio along just this once so that the merchant can calm their friend, he doesn’t know how he does it, but Ravio and Hyrule both have a magic touch when dealing with the ornery teenager.

“Help me get Four settled.” Sky nudges Legend’s shoulder gently. “But get dressed first.”

Tasks. That’s right, give everyone something to do to take their mind off of worrying and running wild with imaginings that will only fuel anxiety and nightmares.

“Wind,” The sailor turns to him with pinched brows, but the kid calms significantly at the sound of his captain voice. “How about you and Twilight gather some wood for a fire? Time, will you scout the borders with me while the others prep camp?”

Mentor and protégé both nod; taking the orders that come easily to his mind, the rancher pulling on his wolf pelt and melting into the forest with Wind at his heels, and Time grabbing his sword and shield and coming to follow at his side.

“Thanks for stepping up.” The older man hums, gaze strained but warm as he offers a small quirk of the lips. “You and Sky both.”

He claps the other man on the shoulder, thankful in part that Time hasn’t donned his heavy armor, thus allowing him to avoid destroying his knuckles. “That’s my job, Sprout. Besides, you had your hands full with a sad puppy.”

Time shakes his head with a soft chuckle, but Warriors counts it as a win.

If Legend was bad the night Hyrule went missing, he’s terrible when the portal sweeps over them midway through their attempts to find his protégé, and the vet’s full-on panicking once they’ve all stopped feeling woozy and sick. He’s not the only one; Wind is almost crying, the poor kids so overwhelmed, and Wild’s agitated behavior has spiked to a full blown manic as he investigates the land around them.

It’s all the three eldest heroes can do to try and keep the younger ones calm, and while Twilight tags along with Wild to scout the area, Time bundles up a shivering and sneezing Four into his arms with a soft hum, hands dragging through the smithy’s long hair carefully.

“Cold?” He calls over to the two.

Time nods. “Probably.”

They should have taken more care to dry off before starting their search.

While Sky attempts to calm Legend, simultaneously holding Wind close to himself and offering one of his Big Brother Hugs to the sailor, Warriors takes care to check their things over and make sure nothing has been left behind.

Wild’s things are nearly always in his slate. Twilight and Time have their bags on hand, but the younger ones and Sky all have plenty to ensure is still in order, and he makes extra sure to check that the potions and fairies they have are all in order and that the bottle haven’t broken during the tumbling of the switch.

There’s light again.

Hyrule whimpers as it floods over him, tucking himself closer to the base of the bottle as large hands rummage around.

His glass prison tilts and swings, but the traveler can only tumble around within, pained hisses escaping him as he fights nausea that he can only assume is from some kind of switch.

It’s Warriors’ blue gloved hand that has his bottle, and hope flutters softly alongside iridescent wings as Hyrule silently prays that the captain will open it. They’ve been looking for him, right? Maybe Warriors figured out his mistake! Maybe he realized that Hyrule isn’t your average healing fairy and has decided to let him go again!

Oh, please let it be so! He won’t burn the captain’s bug-net after all if the man will just let him out!!!

The bottle settles again, and a blue gloved hand withdraws, leaving Hyrule lying on the floor of his bottle, the glass walls and stuffy air of the bag pressing in around him as another miserable whimper escapes him.

The bag he’s trapped in is flipped closed, and he’s plunged again into darkness.

Someone get a fairy!” Legend shrieks, the vet’s panic over the last few hours heightened as his blood soaked hands press against the wound in Time’s side.

Twilight’s face is pale from where he sits supporting his mentor’s head, blood splattering his face and Time’s own as the older man chokes and wheezes, blood bubbling up from between his lips as Legend and Four both work like mad-men to try and tend their leader’s wounds.

It was a freak attack. No one saw it coming, not with how out of it they all were, and there was no time to stop it when the hinox had come rumbling through the forest with ‘blins scurrying about at its feet.

As per Legend and Warriors’ instructions, the heroes had worked to bring down the smaller enemies first, slashing and skewering while the black blood of their enemies gushed out over their blades and darting forms. The ‘blins are hard to beat, as are all the black blooded monsters, but it's become a struggle they’re accustomed too, and the heroes each dart in and out of the battle with the sort of grace of people that are accustomed to battling together and against dangers of all sort.

There’s a flaw in the system though, as they’re short one member, and while Legend and Hyrule usually fight back-to-back, with Four and Wind close at hand, the traveler is gone, and it throws off his battle partners considerably.

Time was only just in time to prevent Wind and Legend both from being axed, but the wound l=that gushes blood from his side now had been the price.

“Fairy!” Four shouts out again. “Now!”

He blinks awake, the blurriness of his vision fogging his mind too, but not so much that he doesn’t register the request this time. Gloved hands fumble with the buckles of his bag, and he’s sweating and breathing harshly with worry as he rips the straps aside and grabs the first bottle he sees. Red liquid glitters back at him and he huffs a grunt out, handing it off to Wind and digging back into his bag.

Thank Hylia he and Four had gone fairy hunting in the last world they’d been in, he’s only got the one fairy, but it should be enough.

Faint pink glimmers in his jar, no longer bright and flittering, but he has to pray it’ll be enough to save Time. His fingers scrabble for the cork, tears pricking at his eyes and burning as he does his best to force them back.

Help Time.

Calm the others.

Break down and cry later.

The cork pops free, and the fairy bumbles sluggishly towards the mouth of the jar.

“Help!” He wheezes, glancing at where Legend and Four have started preforming CPR as tears stream openly down Twilight’s face, the rancher clutching his mentor’s hand tight enough to break bones as he watches the two replacement healers attempt to preserve the ever-fading breath of the man in his arms.

The fairy's wings flit softly as it launches from the mouth of the jar. Its path is sluggish and crooked, but soft glimmering dust flutters from its wings all the same, sprinkling over the gushing wound and slowing the flow of blood. Four leans back to spit out some blood that’s bubbled up into his mouth while he was pushing air into their leader’s lungs, and a stuttering cough breaks the frenzied silence as Time’s eyes flicker. The fairy circles a second time, color returning to Time’s face as raw and tender flesh takes the place of an open wound. There’s no time for a third pass, however, as the fairy’s wings stutter to a halt, pink glow fading as it drops to the earth.

The others are too busy with Time to notice, Wind practically shoving the red potion down the man’s throat while Legend and Four start wrapping the wound in their leader’s side. Only Warriors has seen the fairy fall, and panic lances through his heart again.

Fairies aren’t supposed to collapse after healing someone; they’re supposed to fly away. But this fairy only weakly attempts to rise again, and while the other fuss over the lesser injuries while Legend scolds Time, the captain turns his attention to the fading pink light that blinks on and off in the tall grass.

The fairy shivers in his hands as he gently scoops it up, but when he raises it to eyes level to look at it properly, he freezes.

Tousled brown hair, drenched in sweat, flops over lidden golden eyes. Sure, there six tiny eyes to look at, but the light in them, though faded, is familiar. Same as the freckles that dust drawn cheeks and the tiny green and brown tunic, the shrunken boots the-

“Hyrule?” His voice is soft and disbelieving, too hushed to be heard by the others as they continue to worry over the old man. But the tiny figure in his hands stirs, ever so slightly, golden eyes blinking open as a weak smile meets his gaze.

“W-” The single sound escaped before the fairy stutters in his hands, lights blinking out for half of a second as Hyrule coughs and wheezes.

“Hang on!” Again, he’s digging in his bag, guilt and utter horror filling him as realization hits.

He put Hyrule in a bottle. A bottle that has sat in his bag for days. A bottle that is closed and sealed and-

The captain’s breath stutters as his fingers find the vial of green potion. Eyes glassy as he lifts it to the fading light in his hands, and while Hyrule sips slowly at the vial that’s raised to his lips, it’s all that the soldier can do to not break down crying right then and there.

He locked Hyrule in a bottle!

Tiny wings flutter in his hold as Hyrule pulls himself up to grasp the vial better, but the captain’s so lost in his head he can only stare, unseeing, as the fairy downs the rest of the vial, despite the thing being bigger than himself. The pink glow that signifies a healing fairy stutters back to a more radiant bloom, wings fluttering lightly as Hyrule shakes out his limbs with a wince.

“Thank you for freeing me.” The traveler’s tiny voice chirps, eyes pained but warm as they all stare up at him, and a single tear escapes from the captain at the words.

He doesn’t really think, just gently plucks the fairy up and settles him in a fold of his scarf before jumping to his feet and striding away into the forest. Sky’s voice calls after him, but he ignores it, instead heading for the nearest bunch of trees.

He’s not sure why he brought Hyrule along, but he also knows he couldn’t just leave the fairy hero back in the camp with no one to watch over him, so even as he fights back the tears that well in his eyes and the pain that blossoms in his heart and the sensation of too small- too tight- trapped- glass- trapped-

“Warriors!” The sharp peal of Hyrule’s voice cuts him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t know when he’d fallen to his knees or when his hands had risen up to clutch his hair. It hurts how hard he’s pulling, and it scares him that he hadn’t even felt it. “Hey!” The voice continues, Hyrule fluttering, still weak, only inches from his face, concern glimmering in glimmering golden eyes. “Hey listen! Wars? Can you hear me? Wars?”

“S-sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Hyrule dismissed the apology, and it draws a wet laugh from the captain as he watches the still stuttering wings beating with a speed to rival a hummingbird, Hyrule’s drawn frame looking even paler and thinner right now than it had when they’d first met him.

“I should be asking you that, kid.” He chokes out. He’d locked this kid in a bottle for days! He’d never known it and if Time hadn’t been dying, who knows how long it would have taken him to open it!

Hyrule’s smile is drawn as his wings stutter to a stop again, the traveler falling into Warriors’ lap as the captain starts forwards as if to catch him. Muttered words sound through the air and then Hyrule, properly sized but still pale and thin and painfully still is nestled against his chest. “I’m exhausted and hungry, but I’m out.” The kid breathes, eyes fluttering as a soft breeze ruffles his sweat soaked hair. “I’m out and that’s all I could ask for right now.”

He doesn’t even think as he wraps his arms around the kid, burying his nose in the damp curls and never minding the fact that they are rank with sweat and fear. It’s Hyrule, and he’s safe, and while Legend is probably going to murder him for trapping the poor kid for three whole days, at least he knows that the little one is alright.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice is muffled as he murmurs into the curls. “I know how bottles suck, if I’d’ve known it was you I would have never-” His voice hitches with a sob as he tugs the kid closer, weeping as Hyrule’s gentle hands weakly pat the only thing they can reach within his tight hug, his chest.

“You didn’t know.” Hyrule rasps softly. “But I’m burning your bug-net when I have the energy.”

“Please.” Comes the strangled sob. “Oh goddesses, Rule, I’m so sorry!” The gentle hands move up to wipe away his tears but it only brings them flooding down harder. “Goddesses, I locked you in a bottle! You could’ve been in there forever and I wouldn’t have known! I wouldn’t have checked! I would’ve-”

Left him there. His mind supplies. He would have left Hyrule in a glass bottle where no one could find him, where his shrieks and screams and pleas for help wouldn’t have made a difference to anything or anyone, not when the giant beings that trapped him were unaware or uncaring of his fate, not when he was there to serve a purpose, not when he was there to be used like an item and supply power to those who don’t have enough themselves.

A talisman. I trophy. A tool so that they could do what they needed.

He’s been there. He’s been in that bottle, used like a tool, supplying power to beings so much larger than himself. He’s been in that bottle and left to sit while his friends call his name, while Mask and Tune and Ravio and Impa and Marin and Midna and- and-

“Hush.” Hyrule coos softly, voice hoarse, no doubt from many a scream and wail in hopes of catching their attention, of gaining freedom. “Sush, you’re okay. I’m okay, we’re both okay and Time will be okay.” Rough pads scrape across his cheeks and gently rub his ears. “I got you Wars, I got you.”

And Hyrule does have him, holds him despite being the one in Warriors’ lap, until the others come wandering over and the traveler is scooped from his arms by Sky, who hugs the youngster with tears pouring down his face and voice caught in his throat.

His tears go unnoticed as they all head back, and the instant they reach camp Legend is springing forwards with worry glittering in his eyes as he takes the traveler’s face in his hands, disbelief and shock and hurt and hope and a thousand other emotions swarming in golden violet as Legend gently touches the traveler’s brow with his own, crystal tears leaking out slowly as a tiny smile pulls at the vet’s face.

It only lasts a minute, but then Sky and Legend are fussing over Hyrule, checking him over and clucking their tongues like a couple of mother cuckoos as Wild springs towards the fire, eyes flashing indignantly at the sight of Hyrule’s thin frame, something he’d worked so hard to mend.

“Oh, ‘Rulie, thank Din you’re back!” Legend sighs, cupping the kids face gently in his hands as golden eyes flicker up at the vet with a smile. “Wherever where you? We nearly lost our minds with worry!”

“He was trapped by a monster.” The words roll off of his tongue bitterly as Hyrule frowns up at him, but Legend and Sky are too busy fussing to notice and Hyrule isn’t given a chance to correct anything as they check again for any injuries.

Warriors draws away, leaving Hyrule wrapped in his scarf as he sits on the edge of camp, head aching from tears shed and mind blank in the wake of them. He’s too tired to join in the fuss and celebration as Time sits up again with a groan and Hyrule is spoon-fed soup by a murmuring Sky. He’s tired. He’s cold, and he feels utterly empty.

At least he’s not in a bottle.

The thought sends shivers through him as he curls in on himself, an outlier to the bustle of the camp, free now to descend into the madness of his broken mind.

#warriors angst #idiot writes angst #sapphic loser16 my beloved #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu time #lu twilight #lu sky #lu wind #lu four #lu wild #angst #hurt no comfort #claustrophobia #claustrophobia tw

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

Ian growing his first tomatoes and being proud of himself really excited to share them with Mickey and cooking with them everyday. But what he doesn't know is that tomatoes don't agree with Mickey. They upset his stomach and make him feel sick. He loves seeing Ian so happy and proud of himself so he doesn't tell him and eats everything he makes him. Ian eventually realizes what's going on. A prompt if you'd like to write it

Content Warnings: food, vomit

The first time it happened, Mickey assumed it was a coincidence.

Ian had been so fucking excited for his first tomato crop; he'd spent ages looking up recipes, running ideas past anyone who would listen, and scrounging through old boxed from the house to look for weird cooking shit. He had beamed when the day of his first harvest finally came, carrying those little red fruits in his big hands so carefully that you'd be forgiven for thinking them infants, or puppies, or some other fragile living thing.

So after an hour of Ian washing, slicing, and cooking up his new pride and joy, there was no way in he'll Mickey was going to ruin his husband's happy smile by telling him that just the smell of dinner was making his stomach churn.

It was probably nothing, he told himself, choking down bite after bite, letting out agreeable little hums after each one just to add to the sparkle in Ian's eyes.

Maybe lunch wasn't sitting well; he should have known not to eat anything offered by the Alibi, even under new management (especially under new management). That had to be it. There was no way it had anything to do with the dish Ian had painstakingly made from ingredients so fresh they had still been on the vine just hours before.

So Mickey swallowed his bile with the last bite on his plate, asked for seconds, and ate that too. Then he made his excuses, ran down to the little restroom off the gym, and threw it all up where Ian wouldn't have to see. He ignored the visible seeds and flecks of red tomato skin as he flushed the evidence away.

Just a coincidence, that was all. Next time would go better.

The second time it happened, Mickey thought that maybe Ian was just a bad cook. Ian's courage had been bolstered by his "successful" first attempt, apparently, because this time he went all out. He'd even traded one of his precious tomatoes for some fresh herbs from the plot next to his in the community garden, just to make it special.

And special it was. A special he'll, more like, when Mickey nearly voided his bowels an hour later on their new sofa. He leapt up and made it to the bathroom just in time, and spent the next thirty minutes trying to quietly take care of things so Ian wouldn't hear.

Of course, Ian did hear, and he just had to ask about it. They were getting ready for bed, Mickey tugging on a too-large sleep shirt from a pile of Ian's laundry, when a hand landed lightly on his waist.

"Feeling better?" Ian asked softly, rubbing soothing circles into the stretched skin of Mickey's sore belly.

"Uh, yeah," Mickey hedged, not wanting to reveal his lingering discomfort. "It's nothing, really."

"You sure?" Ian asked, pressing closer against his back as his hand migrated to rest over Mickey's chest. "You can tell me if something made you sick, you know," he said. "I won't take it personally."

If he wasn't used to Ian hitting close to home while having absolutely no knowledge of what he was talking about, Mickey might have wondered then if his husband was catching on.

But it was an innocent enough question, after all.

"Nah, man," he said, pulling away to sit on the bed. "Probably picked up a bug on our rounds or something."

Ian looked unconvinced, biting his lip, and Mickey rushed to reassure him.

"I'm be right as rain tomorrow," he promised. "Just you watch."

Ian hesitated, but ultimately nodded, and joined him in bed. He curled just a little tighter around Mickey than normal, hand resting carefully on his stomach.

It wasn't a lie, Mickey figured as he waited for sleep to claim him. He would be fine by morning. And next time, he'd do the cooking himself, just in case, and then this couldn't happen again.

By the third time, just the next morning, Mickey finally had to admit what he dreaded all along: it really was the goddamned tomatoes.

He’d made the omelets himself, using normal ingredients they got from the store, all things he had eaten before. He’d mixed in some diced tomato, just for flavor, and because he knew Ian would like it.

And like it Ian did. His husband was chowing down like someone might take away his plate if he didn’t eat fast enough, barely stopping to sip at his coffee, while Mickey sat silently across from him.

The first bite of his eggs had already almost done him in, the taste of the tomato now forever associated with stomach cramps and bile and bloating. He knew there was no way for it to be effecting him already, but his stomach clenched when he tried to lift another bite to his lips, and he set down his fork with a clatter.

Ian stopped eating.

“Everything okay, Mickey?” he asked, concerned. “You’ve barely touched your breakfast.”

“What are you lookin’ at my breakfast for?” Mickey deflected. “Eyes on your own fuckin’ plate, you’ve got yours.”

Ian obediently ducked his head, but still managed to catch Mickey poking a chunk of tomato away from everything else on his plate.

“You don’t like the tomato?” he asked, ignoring Mickey’s exasperated sigh at his interference. “I think they really add something.”

“Love them,” Mickey answered with a forced, toothy smile. “Just saving the best for last.” He stabbed at the tomato with his fork, spearing it, and lifted it to his lips to make a point.

“Yum,” he said around it as he chewed and forced himself to swallow. “See? Delic--”

Then he was up, away from the table, and running to the kitchen sink as it came right back up.

“Mickey, what the fuck?” Ian yelled, his chair sliding back with a screech as he hurried to join Mickey at the counter.

“Sorry,” Mickey managed, head still down, as Ian rubbed his back. “Think something’s wrong with me; didn’t mean to waste it.”

Ian’s hand stilled.

“Waste it?” he asked. “Mickey, what are talking about?”

“The tomatoes, Ian,” Mickey sighed. “I know you’re fuckin’ proud of ‘em or whatever, but I just can’t keep ‘em down.”

“Can’t keep them...” Ian started, then stopped. His hand fell away, only to reappear on the back of Mickey’s neck, forcing his to lift his head and look at him.

“Mickey,” Ian said firmly. “How long has this been going on?”

Mickey didn’t answer. Ian shook him, just lightly, then winced when it set him retching again into the stainless steel sink.

“How long have my tomatoes been making you sick, Mickey?” he asked again, quieter, and Mickey finally gave in.

“Few days,” he muttered, and Ian let go of him completely.

“A few--Mickey, it’s only been a few days. And I’ve been putting them in everything.”

Ian sounded worried, almost distraught, and that was exactly what Mickey had been trying to avoid.

“No, it’s fine,” he insisted, pushing away from the sink. He forced himself to swallow past the burning bile in his throat. “I’m not some fuckin’ pussy-ass kid, Gallagher, I know how to work through a fuckin’ stomach ache.”

If anything, that only made Ian look more concerned.

“I know you do, Mick,” he said. “But why the hell did you think you had to? Terry’s gone, we’re doing good; you know you don’t need to do shit like that anymore.”

Oh.

“You’re not upset?” Mickey asked, just to clarify, and Ian rubbed a hand over his face.

“Of course I’m upset, Mickey,” he sighed. “You lied to me for days because what, you didn’t want to look weak?”

“No,” Mickey said. “Cause I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Ian took a deep breath.

“Mickey,” he said slowly. “I promise my feelings aren’t hurt just because you can’t stomach tomatoes. It really wouldn’t have been a big deal.”

Mickey shrugged. “I should be able to, though,” he said. “Ketchup, soup, fucking pasta--I eat all that no problem, and we just had extra sauce on our pizza last week. It’s just...”

He hesitated to say it out loud.

“Just my tomatoes,” Ian finished for him. ‘Right.”

Ian took a step forward, and took Mickey’s hand. He guided him back over to the table, sat him down--moving his plate away so he didn’t have to look at it--and joined him there.

“Mickey,” he started. “Maybe it’s not just that.” Mickey bit his lip, figuring that Ian cared more than he let on if he wanted to find some other excuse, but what his husband said next surprised him.

“I mean,” Ian continued, “it’s not like either of us had a lot of fresh ingredients around growing up.”

Well, he was right about that.

“And really fresh stuff, not processed, none of the preservative shit we’ve been eating our whole lives...well, it’s not your fault that your system doesn’t know what to do with it.”

“Still wish I could eat it,” Mickey grumbled, feeling a little better in spite of himself. “It makes you so happy, man, and I had to go and ruin it.”

Ian laughed.

“You didn’t ruin anything, you idiot,” he said fondly. “But next time I want to try something new, maybe we’ll take it a little slower, yeah?”

Mickey nodded.

“And maybe,” Ian added, “You’ll tell me there’s a problem before you puke all over our dishes.”

Mickey looked over to the sink, where sure enough, the majority of their dishes were piles and waiting to be washed, now needing it more than ever.

Oops.

“At least they were already dirty?” he said, and Ian smiled.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “At least there’s that.”

He leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to Mickey’s head. Then he grabbed up Mickey’s unfinished breakfast and a fork.

“Really, Gallagher?” Mickey asked. “You still wanna eat after that?”

“Why not?” Ian answered, mouth already full. “Besides, if you don’t like it,” he added, a stray piece of egg clinging to the side of his mouth, “then all the more for me.”

It was Mickey’s turn to grin, even as he watched the gruesome show that was Ian trying to eat.

Tomatoes or not, table manners or not, he really loved that man.

#daily speedwrite #super rambly #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #fanfic #tw: food #tw: vomit

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twowooheart · 3 years

Text

─────────────────────

k.sw - “my heart went oops”

pairing: sunwoo x reader

genre: college au, fluff

warnings: player attitude, strong language, kissing

words: 4,800

„back to my question. where are you hiding from me?“

─────────────────────

you wouldn’t say that you were obsessed with him. it was just the inconvenience that you probably have fallen in love with him from afar, without him even knowing you.

once in a while you had a crush. they came and go, nothing too serious. but sunwoo completely messed with your heart and you can’t explain yourself why.

it all started when you leaned against the tree at your usual spot on the college grounds. it was a nice day. the wind played with the loose strings of your hair while you enjoyed the slight glimpses of sunshine that peeked through the leafs and fell on your face.

your friends and people knew not to interrupt you at this spot. if someone did, you would send them a death glare. you went to a prestigious college and as a member of your faculty and president a lot of work had to be done. this was the only time of the day where you had the chance to relax. it was a calm place where everyone knew not to talk too loud or listen to music. generally, everyone kept quiet.

after all this time of peace and harmony someone had to come to start a war. without opening your eyes you could clearly hear out one particular voice.

eric.

eric as in a loud student that often got on your nerves. you weren’t a grumpy cat or something like that. you are very liked by the students and laugh a lot. you like adventures and spending time with your friends. you also don’t mind loud or silent people.

the problem was the place. and that it was eric.

after a good ten minutes you decided to confront that chaotic group. first they didn’t even recognize someone approaching them. you positioned your hands on your hips and sent a death glare into eric‘s direction.

with a light cough finally the group and some girls that accompanied them turned to you.

eric‘s eyes widened and he was quick to get down from his sitting position on the table to salute in front of you. while the others laugh you let out a sigh.

„what could our pretty president want from me? a date?“ by now you’re confused why he would think such a thing and your confidence is slipping away at the compliment he just gave you.

get out of it. he’s a well known flirt.

„silence.“

eric pushes the boy next to him a little bit when kevin bursts out in laughter.

„w-what do you mean with that?“ the girls are giving you nasty glares by now not happy with the attention you’re getting.

„this place is reserved for silent studies and not a chat - “ you can feel your blood freeze in your body when suddenly another boy turns around that has black ruffled hair and round eyes. he’s wearing a mischievous smirk on his face and with a snicker he shushes you to be silent.

„you should be silent then.“

you’re completely astonished. just when you wanted to swoon over the boy and compliment his looks in your head he had the audacity to counter you with your own words. that boy had an attitude and he clearly enjoyed the ‚oh‘s and laughs by his friends.

you were too dumbfounded to utter another single word. usually the students respected you and it wasn’t only you who liked the peace here. you thought about the others that liked to enjoy the nature of this tiny place on the campus.

before you regained yourself the group was already back to their business. with slight embarrassment you trotted back to your spot and gathered your things to go to the library.

the next days weren’t any different. oh, but there were different girls. sitting on their laps and even flirting. the sight was so disgusting to you so there wasn’t any other option than leaving the place for good.

it wasn’t like you gave up without a fight. in your meetings you debated and brought up good arguments for setting up rules but no one seemed to listen to you or being interested in the topic. after asking other students and your friends you realized they were way too insecure to speak up to the popular students.

every time you encountered the boys they gave you funny looks and especially the boy, named sunwoo you learned, even winked at you. he was mocking you. unbeknownst to him and the others your heartbeat quickened it’s pace when he looked at you with those round dark eyes. you hated the feeling at first. but soon, what you hated even more, that you wanted to see him at campus.

was he here all the time?

he even sat in some courses with you. yet, you never managed to acknowledge his existence only until the day he made fun of you.

your slight crush kept only growing and growing until you decided to find out more about the irritating student. kim sunwoo was his full name. he was a soccer player and member of your university team. good grades and many friends. to the last part you internally cringed.

very popular with girls. typical heartthrob.

but one to never be in a relationship. he played and never stayed for too long with a girl.

great! you really fell for a playboy. worse: only by looking and speaking one time to him. you really had to get over with it as soon as possible. even if sunwoo would pay you a little bit more attention like with his other possessions it would soon fade and you would be left heartbroken.

and how to get over a crush and a boy you couldn’t have? have fun with another boy! you only had to find one...

after a few weeks went by you were on your way to the campus garden where you found your new place of peace. it was even smaller and sometimes you helped the gardener club with their duties. fortunately the smell of roses and herbs did wonders to your mind and soul. you felt refreshed and happy everytime you spend your pause in the garden on a bench or on the fresh grass.

today was also the perfect weather to spend some time in the little paradise. while you joined the queue in the cafeteria to get a little snack you jumped when someone tapped you on your shoulder from behind.

„sunwoo?“ the boy stood tall in front of you hair messed up a little bit making him looking cozy and kinda cute. his heart shaped lips formed into a dazzling smile while you probably ogled him like an owl.

„you know my name.“

„w-what? I mean, yes I do. everyone knows you, right?“ your voice was slight shaky and you just wondered what he could want from you.

„yeah, but you, you know my name!“

„yeah, well... anyways can I help you?“ your body reacted on its own again. your palms became sweaty and you couldn’t look into his eyes longer than a second before finding the ground in front of you interesting again.

„I just wondered where you have been?“

you look up at him puzzled. oh, „you probably mean why I am not lurking around in your kingdom anymore.“ a scoff leaves you and before you register that you just said that out loud a hearty laugh brings you out of your thoughts.

„I didn’t mean that!“

„oh, the way you always look at me tells me you definitely meant it!“ then he notices your disapproval for his flirty looks.

„back to my question. where are you hiding from me?“ you’re nearly ready to order and think about a good answer for that. wait, did he just say you were hiding from him?

„I am not hiding from you! I just - “ the way he emphasized the word made you fuzzy in the head. it sounded like you were his prey or some sort of that. you turn around so he faced your back again and quickly placed your order. before you can finish sunwoo suddenly chimes in and places his wish, too. leaving you dumbfounded because the next thing he fishes out his money to pay for the two of you before you’re able to do so yourself.

you roll with your eyes when he walks behind you. a small ‚thanks‘ leaves your lips and you try to get away from him as fast as possible. you couldn’t think clear when he was around. his intense gaze brought goosebumps over your skin and you knew this wasn’t a good thing.

you can’t have him. he wouldn’t want you anyways so get over it. he was probably just bored and that’s why he wanted to tease you a little bit.

before leaving the cafeteria you turn around to spot the boy but he seems to have vanished out of the scene completely. not even sitting at his usual table with the popular kids.

your lunch was deliciously devoured between some big trees in the garden. you listened to the birds cheeping soft melodies while reading some lecture. unknown to you someone has watched over you for some time now.

chuckling to himself sunwoo leans back letting out a sigh. „so that’s where you are now...“

a new week starts and while you are gathering your books in the opened corridor you can hear familiar voices nearing your spot. you’re chatting with one of your friends when the group stops in front of you and eric leans against the lockers to give you a flirty look.

„(y/n)...“ he sings your name in a cute voice while the others begin to laugh and you get yourself busy with ushering your friend away before they could annoy her, too.

immediately you spot sunwoo next to eric who sends you an interested look. back to eric you roll with your eyes.

„what do you want?“

„ah, ah! don’t give me an attitude. oh, did someone already tell you that your eyes sparkle in this light?“

„I am not asking again.“ you’re ready to leave before eric stops you by pulling you back with a strong grip on your wrist. your eyes lock on the spot he just touched you and again, you can’t see sunwoo shifting uncomfortably in his position.

„pretty please! can you show the new boy around? I swear he’s well mannered and good looking! an angel!“ ah, that’s why he’s acting like this.

„oh come on, eric. (y/n) probably has better things to do than that. for example arguing with people who enjoy life.“ you’re sending a death glare to sunwoo and your cheeks are growing hot at the laughter that erupts after that.

what an asshole...

„actually, no, I have time. where’s he?“ with that you stop the bickering and sunwoo‘s smile falls. he didn’t want you to show juyeon the university.

the new student came to the front and with a huge smile he introduced himself. what a good looking sexy god look at his arms and his lips and his eyes and his -

everyone was already gone leaving the two of you behind. juyeon fiddles with the hem of his uniform not knowing why you’re standing in front of him with an opened mouth and still, still clinging onto his hand. oh dammit quick react!

„I am (y/n)! (y/l/n) (y/n)!“ you let go of his hand and he sends you a smile that would bring girls to their knees.

„I already know.“

„oh, yes of course! I am sorry... I should show you everything!“ juyeon mutters a ‚cute‘ under his breath when your eyes indeed seem to sparkle when you start to drag him around the campus.

after five days you were sure, you really liked juyeon. you spent a lot of time together and he was so easy to be around. he was funny, teasing (in a good way), polite, intelligent and when he had the opportunity to part ways with you he didn’t. that’s because he liked you, too.

he was the perfect definition of everything that kim sunwoo wasn’t and especially to you. a friend and a possible lover.

on the other hand he wasn’t fully able to get your mind off sunwoo. that boy seemed to made himself comfortable in a deep deep part of your heart laughing evilly down there.

you want to emphasize the word evil again. after getting closer and closer with juyeon you couldn’t ignore sunwoo‘s hateful gazes anymore. didn’t he like juyeon hanging around with you? you were probably way to much a loser for them and they wanted the good looking guy between their rows.

it couldn’t be helped. one time you even tried to smile at the boy but that only resulted in him turning around to flirt with the new chick of the week. there he was at it again. pinching your heart again. it hurt much more than you wanted it to. but turning in your seat to watch juyeon eating brought happiness to you.

it was already after another few days and a date with juyeon that you two were clear about your relationship. you could never be a couple. you two found each other attractive at first but now you realized you probably just found a best friend in each other. never having one before the two of you also didn’t know how it felt to find your other half but in a platonic way.

you laughed the whole night about your attempt to kiss. there was nothing. no sparks. no everything. juyeon even apologized for not feeling anything. sometimes it turns out like this. luckily you were now inseparable leaving others confused on if you were dating or not.

juyeon literally begged you to not tell anyone and just wait what happens. that boy turned you into a mischievous kitten that agreed to his evil plan. even your friends fall for it at first. in the end some girls can read their girlfriends better than anyone else and they noticed little gestures between you and juyeon that no couple would do.

there’s still one thing you didn’t tell your bestfriend about. your safe space in the beautiful college garden. it wasn’t a problem either but this place was only for you. (and the hardworking gardener club)

something stopped you in your tracks when you were just entering the herb part. kissing sounds could be heard behind a tree. you wanted to lecture the couple who thought it would be a good time and place to fuc-

it was sunwoo.

your eyes widened and your heart sank to the bottom. your mouth still open sunwoo catches your gaze and locks eyes with you. he starts to kiss the girl‘s neck while she whimpers out his name.

you closed your mouth knowing what he was doing. he knew you would come at this hour. he knew you would find him with the girl. he wanted you to find him with... someone that wasn’t you, again.

this time one the other hand you decided to be confident. you coughed out loud gaining that girl‘s attention who let out a little shriek in the process. immediately she put some space between her and sunwoo and started to correct her uniform.

„I will report this if you’re not leaving this instant.“ this was enough to let the girl take a run leaving a pouting sunwoo behind.

you walk up to the boy and sigh out before speaking up.

„I don’t care what or with who you’re doing something, kim sunwoo. I just wonder why you have to do it here, the only place I can relax.“

sunwoo leans against the tree and sends you a bored glare. he lifts one of his eyebrows and you watch his tongue poking his cheek from the inside.

„the university garden doesn’t belong to you.“

you scoff at his words.

„I’ve never said that. I - I just thought... you and your friends already won over my favorite spot on the grounds.“

„and?“

maybe talking honest with him?

„look, I don’t want any problems with you. of course I won’t report this. I just want to have this little space for myself. could you please not come here again?“ you’re sending him a pleading look and when sunwoo starts to emerge your form with painfully slow steps you can feel your skin burning where his eyes land.

he leans down. so much that your noses are nearly touching. he’s so close you can smell his cologne and his breathing is tickling your face.

„I will come here whenever I want. I will bring here whoever I want. I will fuck here whoever I want. tell me, (y/n), aren’t you doing the same?“

you gulp. without much thought your foot collides with his shinbone. sunwoo cries out and clings to his leg sitting down in the process.

„oh god! I didn’t want to - ah, shit! here, cling onto me, I will bring you to the nurse!“ with a panicked voice you try to help sunwoo and the boy only curses out lowly while you and him slowly limp to the nurse.

„okay, sunwoo, look at me“ the boy is still in a lot of pain laying down in the hospital section bed. his eyes have not left you for once and you feel like the boy is planning on how to kill you in the most brutal way.

you’re nibbling nervously on your fingernails after the x-ray and the moment the doctor is out of sight your hands are on sunwoo‘s puffy cheeks. with a determined look you focus his face into your direction.

„you remember what I told you? I didn’t see anything! so you will say this was an accident, alright?“ his eyes darken at your words.

„why should I do that?“

„because! because I will tell them about you and the girl!“

„you kicking me is definitely worse.“ dammit, he’s right.

„o-okay! you can go to the garden whenever you want! I will not go there anymore!“

sunwoo chuckles at that. „a few minutes ago you lectured me and now you’re giving in again? but... no, that’s not helping you, too.“ out of anger you’re shaking his head by now and you don’t even realize how close you’re again.

the two of you flinch and immediately get away from each other when the doctor is coming back. „well, mr. kim. no game for you this saturday. your leg needs about a week to recover so no running and especially no sports!“ sunwoo‘s eyes open wide and after the two of you are left again you are at the verge of tears.

„oh, (y/l/n) (y/n). how do you want to make up for that?“ you’re now leaning down clinging onto him.

„sunwoo, please!“

„not only will you receive a punishment the whole university will be pissed off. I am an important player in the team.“ no, he was one of the best ones. if he couldn’t play that meant they would probably loose. your head is layed down facewards in the sheets while you rumble incoherent words. sunwoo on the other side has to hide a huge smile that’s growing on his face.

„we could say it was an accident.“ your head peeks up and you watch him with big eyes very interested in his idea.

„yes, I will do everything!“ sunwoo chuckles to himself.

„then be my slave this week.“

oh wasn’t that wonderful. sunwoo would cling onto you the whole week and by now you felt like his personal butler. of course the team lost so the students were in a bad mindset, too. after telling juyeon about the whole story the boy laughed for almost half an hour. he clearly enjoyed the view and gave you a thumbs up everytime you dragged sunwoo through the corridors or over the campus to his next lecture.

on the other hand... no one found out about what really happened. and as crazy as it sounds the boy smelled so good. you practically hugged him three hours a day. he only killed your joyful thoughts when you had to bring him a bottle of water again or only vanished out of his sight for only a minute to talk with a friend leading into him lecturing you.

you also would have found it cute to feed him but the gazes you received from the crowd in the cafeteria brought heat to your cheeks. sunwoo liked seeing you flustered and shy. he literally drank your reactions. he loved your reactions to every ridiculous thing he did or said to you.

the last day he insisted on you bringing him to the garden to have a picnic.

„I don’t feel good being here with you. the last time I got so mad I kicked you.“ he layed on the grass while you fed him with some grapes like he was a king.

„mh, I like being here with you. but, you’re probably going with lee here a lot anyways.“ you pause at his words. juyeon?

„why would I go here with juyeon?“ sunwoo‘s face turns sour.

„he’s your boyfriend after all.“ the boy locks eyes with you after you burst into laughter.

„what?“ sunwoo leans up on his elbows to get closer to you. „you’re dating him, right?“

„no? we’re friends. really good friends. but never would I date lee juyeon!“ you smile at him laughing again at the thought whereas sunwoo groans out annoyed.

„wait.. what is wrong?“ sunwoo had a weird feeling in his stomach after knowing you were still single. all this time he was so jelous and angered about the thought of you being together with someone else...

„nothing.“ sunwoo didn’t feel like it was the right time to tell you about his feelings. he messed up big. all this time of annoying you and being a dick... he liked you. he wanted to show you and fulfill your every wish before he saw you with juyeon.

it wasn’t a good move but he just turned bitter. he wanted you to recognize him. he couldn’t act different than letting out his frustration. it was just how he coped with things. but it was a mistake. with knowing he only managed to push you further away from him. you probably hated him by now. you would never like him, right?

you fulfilled your service. and you missed spending time with sunwoo. again please can there be another good looking guy entering your college? but, still you couldn’t hold yourself back to steal glances at the dark haired boy. and everytime you did sunwoo already had his eyes on you. you couldn’t read him at all. there was no bickering anymore and no winking. he just looked deep in thought.

maybe he was not interested in you anymore. in no ways. not even to annoy you. it mad you sad. and that’s how the next two weeks went by with you slowly feeling more insecure.

it was at the next month‘s game that you decided to actually join it with juyeon and some of your friends. you couldn’t believe your bestfriend that dragged you to the lowest row where sunwoo‘s friends and their chicks were also sitting.

the girl next to you was a very beautiful brunette. she cheered so loud for sunwoo and when said boy turned around to glance into her direction with a confident smile your heart sank again. you stopped counting how often that happen by now though.

with an annoyed look you watched the game. when your team goaled the brunette jumped up kicking her drink onto your lap in the process.

„shit!“ while everyone claps and howls you poke juyeon to show him your shirt.

„oh no.“

„yeah, whatever. I am going to wash this out.“ juyeon‘s eyes widen at your words that are spoken loudly over the cheering crowd.

„no! ehm, (y/n), the game is finished in a few seconds you have to wait!“ you roll your eyes at him.

„god juyeon we’ve already won.“ he tries to hold onto your arm but you’re quick to leave the field and vanish into the building where your locker is located to change into another clothing. it takes you a lot of time but you smile when you receive a text of juyeon to come back to the field because they’re waiting for you there.

it was already dark and you wanted to change at home to get ready for the after party tonight in one of the huge mansions of the fraternity. when you emerge the field everything was already dark and you could only see a silhouette standing in the middle of the field.

„juyeon?“ you look around to see if there’s another person but knowing he would never ditch you in the dark you take confident strides to the person.

„juyeon, you know it’s really creepy after the horror movie we watched yesterday - “

suddenly the light is turned on and you shield your eyes with your hands before the person turns around and gets down on one knee in front of you.

„s-sunwoo?“ you can’t breath. your heart hammers against your chest and you have to cover your shaking lips with your hands to prevent him from seeing your shocked state.

„I actually planned this to turn out different... you know the whole crowd was supposed to be watching.“

„watching w-what?“

he looks to the ground and then into your eyes again. a smile adorns his face and he coughs out to clear his voice.

„(y/l/n) (y/n), I want to tell you that, that... I like you.“ you nearly collapse at his words. was this a dream? was he joking around?

„you’re joking.“

he shakes his head. „I am not. I wanted to do this here on the field so when you’re giving me a corb the whole university would see.“

„that is... sunwoo that doesn’t make any sense?“

„it does. it is my apology to you. for being mean and teasing you endlessly. for taking away your favorite spots. I know you love them so much. I did what I did because of my jelousy. and for being a coward for not telling you about my feelings.“

you think for a few seconds trying to register if this was really happening. your head turns and in the far you can see all your and sunwoo‘s friends. with an unsure gaze your eyes land on juyeon. after the boy‘s stoic expression he sends you an honest smile. and a thumbs up.

you let out a shaky breath and turn to the boy in front of you again.

„this is really... surprising.“

sunwoo sighs taking your hand into his. „it is. so please tell me you’re not feeling the same and I can begin sulking.“

„sunwoo. it doesn’t make any sense because“ you push him up by his hand and look into his dark orbs.

„it’s doesn’t make any sense because I like you, too.“ a sheepish smile escapes the boy.

„ahhh, I wished you would say that.“ you raise one of your eyebrows.

„of course. you’re still a tease. you know, you could just ask me for a date and - “

„do you want to be my girlfriend? I don’t only want a date. I want you.“ you bite your bottom lip at his words. you nod and send him a beautiful smile.

„woah. (y/n), eric‘s right in the end.“

your face turns stoic.

„about what?“ sunwoo smiles at you and circles your waist with his arms. his hand glides up to pushes some strands of your hair out of your face.

„your eyes are sparkling. not only that, you’re really shining. you always have.“ your eyes water at his words because would’ve never imagine the kim sunwoo using them with you.

in the far you can hear shouts of ‚kiss‘ and the loudest are from eric and juyeon. you quickly look to the ground but sunwoo‘s quicker to pull your chin up with his index.

he places the softest kiss on your trembling lips and it is the first time you can fully enjoy the butterflies in your stomach.

why did the two of you needed so much time?

#tbz writing #the boyz writing #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo au #tbz au #tbz fic #tbz collage au #the boyz college au

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quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Oops - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

(See part 1 for summary and warnings)

Marinette was having a hard time keeping her mind on girls’ night. Rose and Juleka had just signed a new lease to move in together in the coming month, and it should have been exciting, but somehow she just couldn’t get into the discussions about decor and whose couch they should keep and how many dishes they really needed.

Marinette had other things on her mind.

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she glanced at the others quickly before turning it over.

Sorry, babe, I’ve got a gig that day. Wish I could.

Marinette bit her lip, trying not to be upset. She started to type a reply, when another set of messages came in.

You could come if you want We could go home together after Just go easy on the drinks this time ;)

Marinette giggled, but sent back You sure? I won’t be in the way?

I’d want you there even if you were. You’re small, we can stick you in an instrument case if we need to

Marinette laughed aloud at that.

Should I dress up? she typed.

Anything you wear looks good on my floor. Do what makes you happy

Marinette pressed her legs together, bouncing her knees, and then sent, before she could rethink it, Doing you makes me happy.

There was a long pause before his next message, and then it was just an address and a time, followed by Can’t wait to see you Friday . And Saturday morning. Don’t make lunch plans.

Marinette gave a little squeal, hiding her face in her hands.

All of the girls were looking at her with varying expressions. Juleka and Alix looked amused, Rose excited, and Mylène just looked happy for her.

Alya was looking at her with a slow spreading grin. “Well weeeeell,” she drawled, leaning on the counter between them. “Let me guess. Setting up your next booty call with your new boytoy?”

There was enough truth in that to make Marinette blush deeply. Alya cackled.

“Details, girl,” she said, slapping the counter. “You’ve been doing this guy for weeks now, what’s the story? He must be good to still put that dopey look on your face after all this time.”

“What—n-no!” Marinette spluttered, looking at the rest of the girls. Juleka was rolling her eyes while Rose and Mylène covered giggles. Alix had that same amused expression as she shook her head slightly. “I’m not gonna talk about that,” Marinette insisted. “It’s none of your business!”

“Come on, Mari, spill,” Alya said, leaning forward again. “It can’t be that embarrassing. Does he fuck you up against a wall with all your clothes on and call you a naughty girl?”

Marinette choked, and Alya laughed.

“Oh, Marinette, you’re such an innocent,” she chortled, sitting back with a smirk like she had gained some kind of victory.

Marinette’s face burned with both shame and...anger. How dare Alya dismiss her just like that? Like they were still silly teenagers and Marinette couldn’t even talk to a guy, let alone take him home and—suddenly she realized she was tired of Alya’s patronizing, and on top of that, she felt insulted on Luka’s behalf. Taking a breath, Marinette straightened her shoulders and put on the best air of nonchalance she could manage despite her red face. “He probably would, if I asked him to,” she said airily. “But he really likes to take his time for that part.” Summoning up every ounce of the boldness Luka inspired in her, she blurted, “If he wants to make me come fast and hard, he uses his hands.”

The entire room went silent as they all stared at her. Pretending like she didn’t feel like she was going to throw up from nerves and embarrassment any second, Marinette added dreamily, “He has amazing hands.”

Alya raised her eyebrows, clearly amused and at least half disbelieving. “Not his tongue?”

“He’s a great kisser,” Marinette smiled, deliberately misunderstanding. Alya grinned wolfishly.

“No, girl, I mean when he e—“

“Oh, he’s great with his mouth on me too,” Marinette interrupted, eyes widening innocently. “It’s just, when he uses his hands, he can still use his voice. Mm, he has such a sexy voice.” The shudder that went through her was entirely real. “It makes me so…” she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it, and took a sip of her wine instead.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I can’t believe that you like this guy dirty-talking you,” Alya accused, narrowing her eyes as she set her cup down with a slam. “Little miss sweetness and light. You can’t even handle it when we talk about fucking.”

Marinette shrugged as if she was completely indifferent to what Alya believed. “You don’t say it like he does,” she commented, and took another sip of her drink, staring off into the distance as if she’d completely forgotten Alya was there. She was stretching the truth a bit, she knew. It wasn’t dirty talk, not really, not the way Alya was thinking. Luka didn’t have to be filthy to work her up; he could recite phone listings in that hot, growling voice, and it would be enough to put her over the edge, so when he told her she was beautiful, that he loved the way she smelled or tasted or felt or sounded, or asked what she wanted, or suggested something he wanted her to do for him, or panted out how close he was…

She shivered again.

Alya didn’t need to know that though. Marinette flicked her eyes around the others, a little nervous about their reactions. Mylène was smiling, Juleka was smirking, and Rose had her hands clasped together and was practically vibrating with excitement. Alix was snickering behind her hand.

“Aw, did Marinette just shatter all your illusions, Alya?” Alix laughed. “You just can’t handle that your oh-so-innocent bestie has a hot side piece.”

Marinette frowned. “Can you have a side piece if you don’t have a...a main piece?”

Alix patted her shoulder. “You can be your own main piece.”

“Marinette,” Alya said, putting her drink down, suddenly serious. “This isn’t like you. Just who is this guy, anyway? Does he even have a day job?”

“Yes,” Marinette frowned. “He’s a teacher.” It wasn’t a lie; Luka did teach private music lessons in addition to his performance work, but with Alya giving her that judgemental look, Marinette didn’t intend to give her any details.

“Ooh, hot for teacher, nice.” Alix reached over and, though feeling a little foolish, Marinette met her high five, but Alya looked unconvinced.

“Well, just be careful,” Alya cautioned her. “You’re still on the rebound—” Am I? Marinette found herself wondering. It didn’t feel like it, actually, when she thought about it. “—and I know you’re feeling pretty vulnerable right now and I don’t want this guy taking advantage of you. If you wanna have fun with him, whatever, but be careful what you tell him and don’t loan him any money.” She sighed. “And especially, don’t fall in love with him. He’s a good time, and that’s it, and he’ll only break your heart if you start wanting more.”

Marinette just stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly, as Alya turned away. There was a tense moment and then Rose piped up, “All right, are we ready for the movie? Let’s get started!” The girls all murmured agreement and began moving toward the living room.

Marinette put her drink down,

“Hey,” Alix said, leaning over her shoulder. “Alya’s just trying to look out for you. She didn’t mean it how it sounded, you know that. If you say this guy is cool, I believe you, but it never hurts to watch out for yourself, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Marinette managed a weak smile. “I get it. Sure.”

***

Marinette was having a shit day. One of her underlings had screwed up at work, which meant, to the bosses, that Marinette screwed up, and then she had to smile and take in the teeth from her bosses while soothing her horrified intern and trying to deal with the problems he’d caused. She’d complained about it to Alya when she got home, and stupidly, she’d mentioned that knowing she had a date with Luka tonight was the only thing that got her through the day. That earned her another well-intentioned condescending talking-to about being careful and not getting invested in something that was clearly only temporary. “I know you, Marinette,” Alya insisted. “He’ll say something sweet just trying to get you naked and you’ll get infatuated and start planning your whole future while the whole time he’s got one foot out the door.” Nino, who’d showed up to pick up Alya in the middle of it, had grudgingly sided with Alya over the whole thing.

“It’s not really like you, Nette,” Nino said with an uncomfortable shrug. “I mean, I don’t want to be all judgy and weird. I just…well, you’ve...” He’d trailed off and hustled Alya out the door when he saw tears in Marinette’s eyes, leaving her at least with the dignity of breaking down in private.

She flopped over the arm of the couch and sobbed until her phone beeped a reminder at her. Luka , she thought, touching her swollen face. She couldn’t go out like this. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore. She just wanted to crawl into bed and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

But she had this date, and…

Alya’s words flooded back and fresh tears fell down her face. Maybe Luka wouldn’t care if she canceled. Maybe…maybe she shouldn’t be feeling so sick about that thought. Maybe Alya was right and she was on the road to another heartbreak. Luka had never said anything, after that first day, about wanting anything more. They weren’t always having sex when they were together, they did other things, but they did always end up in bed eventually. But that didn’t mean anything! Right? Maybe—Marinette sighed. Maybe she didn’t need anything else to spiral about tonight, thanks so much, Alya. Why wasn’t she allowed to just have fun without Alya telling her what was best for her? She enjoyed spending time with Luka, and yeah, he made it clear he enjoyed all the... intimate things they did, but that didn’t mean—

Focus , she reminded herself, wiping her eyes again. She still had a date tonight that she was in no condition to go to, and if she didn’t call soon Luka would already be on his way to meet her.

She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself and called him.

“Hey, beautiful, what’s up?” Luka asked, his smooth voice light and cheerful.

“Hi,” Marinette squeaked, and then gulped down a sob. Shit, she should have texted, she sounded awful.

Luka’s tone shifted immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“N-nothing major, I just...I had a really bad day and...I don’t think I’m up for our date tonight. I’m so sorry, I know it’s really last minute, I hope you haven’t left yet, I just—” She caught a tear on her hand and wiped it away, trying not to sniffle into the phone.

“Of course it’s okay,” Luka said, his voice low and soft. “Don’t force yourself, it’s fine. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Marinette choked, her throat tightening again.

“Okay. Well, how about if I grab some takeout and bring you dinner? I can pick up something for your roommate too if you like.”

“Oh, you don’t—you don’t have to do that. Alya’s out with her boyfriend, I’m not sure she’s even coming back tonight. I mean, you don’t have to pick up anything at all, I can just scrounge something, I'll be fine, I think we have some...some ramen or something I can make…I’m not very hungry right now anyway.” Ugh, she was a babbling idiot, why hadn’t she just texted him.

“Late lunch?”

“No…” Marinette frowned, trying to think. “I don’t think I ate lunch.”

“Thought so,” Luka chuckled.

“B-but—I—“

“I don’t have to stay if you’d rather be alone,” Luka told her, his voice so full of sympathy that she wanted to cry all over again. “But at least let me bring you something to eat. It’s not like I had other plans. What’s your favorite food to cry into?” His tone turned teasing. “I can at least bring you some real ramen instead of the instant stuff, if that’s really what you want.”

Marinette bit her lip, picturing for a moment the congee she used to get at the shop by her old office. She loved it, because it reminded her of her mother’s, but she hadn’t had in in ages because they didn’t deliver to this part of town, and—

“Anything you want,” Luka told her softly. “Come on, what are you thinking about?”

“It’s out of your way,” Marinette said, shifting on her couch. “I...give me just a second, I’ll think of something, um…”

“Marinette,” Luka said, a touch of amusement in his voice. “Just tell me what you want. I’m all over this town for gigs all the time, a few extra subway stops won’t kill me.”

She told him, and gave him directions.

“Okay. I’ll go pick it up and be there as soon as I can. You take a nice long bath or a shower, or at least wash your face, okay? Get comfortable for a night in.”

Marinette smiled a little at his prescription, and whispered, “Okay.” She sat there a few minutes longer after they hung up, trying to gather enough caring to get up and do as he suggested. Finally she made it up off the couch, and drifted into the bathroom.

She cried more in the shower, but she did feel better after standing in the hot water, which at least relieved some of the stiffness and stinging of her face and eyes, and helped her breathe easier. She sat on her bed wrapped in her towel for a long moment, feeling limp and languid, but if she was sitting here naked when Luka showed up, he’d probably think she wanted some other kind of comforting, and she just wasn’t sure she felt like it tonight. She dug out one of her more modest nightgowns, made of thin, soft fabric that fell to her calves, with wide straps and a shallow scoop neck that covered most of her chest. It was still pretty, because Marinette liked pretty things, but it wasn’t seductive or anything like that.

Not that she was in any condition to seduce anybody, she thought, as she pressed her fingers below her aching eyes. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let Luka come over. Would it hurt his feelings if she made him leave the food at the door?

Marinette had almost decided to do just that when she heard him knock. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, and then sighed. Well, if her puffy, blotchy face and stuffed up nose grossed him out and he didn’t want to see her anymore, then at least that would be one less thing for Alya to bitch at her about, she thought as she opened the door.

Luka’s expression shifted from concern to sympathy as soon as she came into view. “Aw, come here,” he said, reaching for her as he stepped inside. Marinette let him wrap his arm around her and leaned into him as he squeezed her. He kept her under his arm as he walked to the table, where he put the bag of food down and then turned to embrace her fully, folding her in a tight hug, as he swayed slightly and rubbed her back. It felt amazing, actually, and Marinette pressed her face into his chest, inhaling his scent and enjoying the firm feel of him, warm and solid.

“You want to eat at the table or somewhere else?” he asked.

“Couch?” she mumbled into his chest, and he steered her over to it.

“Sit down then, and I’ll get it all ready.”

He brought her the bowl a few minutes later, sitting down next to her as he made sure she had a grip on it before he let go. “Do you want me to go?” he asked, tucking a damp lock of hair back from her face. “Or would you rather have some company? I won’t be offended, if you’d rather be alone.”

Marinette looked up at him and opened her mouth, and then changed her mind, looking down with a blush. “Actually some company sounds nice,” she mumbled.

Luka smiled, and leaned forward to kiss her temple gently. “Let me grab my food then.”

When he returned with his plate, he sat next to Marinette and put his arm around her shoulders. Marinette cuddled against his side, tucking her feet under herself. She admired the ease with which Luka balanced his plate on his knee as he ate, but then from some of the stories he’d told her she supposed he was probably used to eating in weird places

The congee felt good on her raw throat, and she ate almost the whole bowl before she sighed and set it on the coffee table to snuggle more firmly against Luka’s side. He’d already finished, and he put both arms around her. She told him a little bit about her day, leaving out the details of the argument with Alya, and Luka made sympathetic noises and kissed her forehead.

Alya’s wrong about him , Marinette thought, tucking her face against his neck. He’d never treat anyone the way she thinks, even if it was only physical. He’s too sweet. And I don’t...I don’t think that’s what this is. I think...maybe he really meant what he said at the cafe. Maybe he still does. She took a shaky breath, and Luka’s face turned a little closer to hers, so she knew he was listening.

Marinette chickened out. “Could we...maybe get in bed and watch a movie?”

“Sure, I’d love that.” Luka smiled. “What’s your favorite thing to watch when you feel crappy?”

Marinette blushed. “You’ll laugh.”

Luka grinned. “So what if I do? If you like it, that’s all that matters. Be selfish tonight, Marinette.”

Luka followed her to her bedroom, and his eyebrows shot up when she produced a dusty old DVD with a picture of a bus on it. “Speed?” he said, sitting on the bed, and then bit his lip. He held up a finger, turned away from Marinette, and buried his face in her pillow as he laughed. Marinette grabbed her other pillow and whacked him with it.

“I told you you’d laugh,” she pouted as Luka pushed himself up and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I love Keanu Reeves.”

“Give it here, and get comfy,” he told her, getting up. Marinette gave him the movie, and he put it in as she tossed the blanket back to the bottom of the bed and got under the sheet. Then she had an internal panic attack as Luka kicked off his shoes and socks and shimmied off his jeans. Oh, maybe she should have—but he’d never have been comfortable if she made him stay dressed, and it didn’t mean they were going to…Stupid, they could have stayed on the couch, why did she invite him to bed?

Barely thinking, Marinette caught the hem of his shirt just before he went to pull it off. “Can you...leave it on?” she asked, and blushed when he looked at her quizzically. “I really like cuddling with you but I...I just—”

“Just?” Luka asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Never mind, it’s stupid,” Marinette sighed, letting go, and feeling like an idiot. “You should be comfortable.

“So should you,” Luka said, sitting back down on the bed. “I can wear a shirt if you want, it’s no big deal.” He reached over and smoothed back her hair—now mostly dry, thankfully. “Is something wrong? You know you can tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable.”

Oh, she was the worst. He was so kind to her and she was the worst , and how could she admit anything like this to him? Marinette hung her head, and told a truth that wasn’t the truth. “I just...don’t like it when our skin sticks together,” she confessed, and then put her hands over her face. “I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything. I’m being stupid.”

“I’m not forgetting anything,” Luka laughed, sliding under the sheet beside her. “Why are you acting like you did something wrong?”

“It’s...not very romantic,” Marinette sighed, wrinkling her nose.

Luka rolled his eyes. “I’d rather you be comfortable than preserve some imaginary aesthetic that no one but us would even be aware of. I don’t mind wearing my shirt or keeping the sheet pulled up if it makes you more comfortable.” He slid down a bit, and stretched his arm out towards her. Marinette snuggled up next to him again, and sighed contentedly as she rested her cheek against his chest, glad that he wore a soft, slightly worn t-shirt instead of a crisp dress shirt.

“Comfy now?” he asked, his hand sliding up to massage the back of her neck.

“Mm,” she agreed, and leaned into his touch with a hum. Eventually they slithered down to lay flat in the bed, Luka curling against her back with his head on her pillow, murmuring sly comments about the movie every now and then that made Marinette giggle, and occasionally reach back to elbow him when she thought he was getting too far out of line. No one, she told him, dissed Keanu in her bed.

“Yes ma’am,” he agreed, laughing into her hair before he kissed the top of her head. Marinette smiled.

It was nice, having him snuggled up against her, his teasing voice in her ear, and Marinette’s mood was lifting with each passing moment. She found herself focusing on his broad hand resting on his stomach, his breath tickling the back of her neck, and the warmth of him behind her, the brush of his chest against her back when he breathed. Heat began to pool low in her belly, and her breathing quickened. She pressed back a little, just enough that her back was resting against her chest now, and Luka nuzzled her neck, placing a little kiss below her ear before settling again. Marinette sighed, annoyed with herself. Here she had been worried about giving him the wrong idea, but now that she was comfortable and relaxed, she was starting to change her mind.

Marinette sniffed experimentally, and found she was breathing much better. She shifted slightly, biting her lip, and then rolled over to face Luka. He blinked at her a little sleepily, and then he smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t revoke my bed privileges. I’m really comfortable right now,” he murmured. “You look like you’re feeling better.” .

“I am,” she said, and wiggled a little closer, her body already warming at the thought of his touch. She leaned up and kissed him, and any hesitation she’d still been feeling vanished at the soft feel of his mouth against hers. It seemed to wake Luka up too, because his hand went to her face and he returned her kiss with equal enthusiasm. Marinette caught hold of his shirt, and tugged him closer when he would have leaned back. “Can I be selfish, Luka?” she breathed, and felt him shudder as she kissed him again. “Even after all you’ve done for me? Can I ask for more?”

“Always,” he rumbled, rolling up onto his elbow to follow her as she kept tugging on his collar, wiggling to get beneath him. She gasped as he pressed against her, and arched her body up into his, suddenly feeling desperate. Had he been turned on this whole time and said nothing? Alya is so wrong about him.

“Comfortable , huh?” she teased, and Luka grinned sheepishly.

“I was,” he defended, “Mostly. I can ignore it when I have to, and you didn’t seem like you were up for much.” He kissed her softly.

“I wasn’t,” she admitted, and then rolled her hips up into him. Luka groaned, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he grabbed at her hip, and her own eyes closed in pleasure. “I am now,” she sighed. “Please, Luka.” She shivered as she felt the fabric of her nightgown bunch under his big hands, the hem sliding up her calves and over her knees.

Alya was wrong about him, Marinette was sure, looking up into his eyes as he bent down to kiss her gently, but thoroughly. He only broke the kiss when he finally found the hem of the nightgown. “Can I take my shirt off now?” he asked teasingly as he dragged the nightgown up over her head. Marinette made a muffled sound. “What?” he laughed, but his laugh cut off when she pressed her hips up into him again.

“I said, yes please,” she told him smugly as he reached back for his collar.

Marinette settled her arms around his neck and pulled him down into her, eager now for the press of his skin against hers. Luka’s hands carded into her hair, tipping her face to the perfect angle as his mouth descended on hers again. She spared one fleeting thought fr Alya’s warnings before she gave herself up to the moment.

Alya is wrong about Luka...but she might be right about me. Maybe I am falling in love with him.

***

The movie menu screen had been playing for a while when Luka finally picked up the remote and turned the tv off. “I’m going to grab a drink,” Luka said, kissing Marinette’s jaw. “You want something?”

“Yes, please,” Marinette sighed. “I don’t think I can move yet.”

Luka chuckled and kissed her again. “Be right back.”

Grinning to himself, Luka stopped to pull his boxers and jeans on and made his way to the refrigerator, leaning down to find the water bottles he knew were tucked into the back for him. He’d gotten picky about water on the road, so Marinette, thoughtful as always, kept a few bottles of his favorite brand for him. He grabbed one and cracked it open, taking a long gulp, and then bent to reach in and grab the filter pitcher to make a glass for Marinette.

“Excuse me?”

Luka jumped and straightened, and turned around to find a woman standing in the apartment doorway, lit from the hall behind. She had one hand on her hip and the other on the doorknob, where a set of keys was still hanging.

“Hey,” he said, shutting the refrigerator door. “You must be Alya. I’m Luka. I’m Marinette’s—ah—” He’d almost said boyfriend, but he wasn’t, technically, and he suddenly realized he had no idea what word to use. “Friend,” he finally finished lamely, acutely aware of how the word hung between them as he stood there half-naked and disheveled. He lifted the water bottle to his lips again, still parched. “Sorry, we didn’t realize you were coming home tonight.”

He turned to get a glass from the cabinet, and felt Alya’s eyes on him as he poured the water for Marinette and put the pitcher back. He glanced up and, as he suspected, the look she was giving him was not one of appreciation. Luka had seen that look before and knew that she was seeing the dye and the piercings and the tattoos and not much else. He waited for her to say something, but when she didn’t seem inclined to, he shrugged. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” he said quickly, and then made his way past her and back to Marinette’s room. “I’ll let Marinette know you’re home.”

He shut Marinette’s bedroom door behind him, blowing out a breath, and then looked at the bed.

He forgot about Alya for a moment when his eyes fell on Marinette, looking relaxed and blissfully happy, one lovely shoulder and her feet peeking out of the sheet she had tucked around herself. He could still see the marks of her earlier breakdown on her face, but she looked at peace now.

If he hadn’t already been sure he loved her, he didn’t think anything on earth would have saved him from falling in that moment.

Luka brought the water over and set it on her nightstand, then leaned over her to set his on the other one. Marinette smiled dreamily up at him, and he bent down and kissed her gently. She smiled against his lips.

“Your mouth is cold,” she told him, and giggled.

“Yours is hot,” he teased, kissing her again, a little deeper. Then he sighed. “Your, um...your roommate is home,” he told her, half-regretting it as Marinette stiffened instantly. “I kind of ran into her in the kitchen.”

Marinette bit her lip, looking up at him as a blush lit her face. “Oops,” she murmured, and then giggled in a way that said maybe she wasn’t all that sorry. Laughing, Luka all but tackled her, pressing her back into the pillows as he kissed her messily, moving his lips to her neck and collarbone when she tried to squirm away from him.

“What was that for?” Marinette giggled, pushing lightly at his chest until he propped himself up on his arms.

“You are criminally hot,” he told her, smirking when the red tinting her cheeks darkened. “Especially when you blush.” Always when she blushed, but especially now, looking so ravished and yet so sweetly pretty, shy and shameless at the same time.

He leaned down and kissed her again, more gently, and she hummed against him, kissing him twice more when he would have pulled away.

When she finally let him sit back, he asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” she said with determination, slipping her hand around the back of his neck and pulling him back down into another kiss. “Come get back in bed with me.”

Not at all unwilling, Luka shimmied out of his pants and crawled over her, slipping under the sheet and tucking it around his front before laying an arm down in invitation. Marinette shifted over to him, and Luka shivered when she moved the sheet away from between them. Instead of settling her head down on his shoulder, she kissed his chest, and his neck, and pressed herself up against him. “I don’t think you’re as done as you led me to believe,” she whispered with a teasing smile.

“Well not anymore.” Luka grinned up at her, shifting onto his back in answer to the press of his hands on her shoulders. “Feel like scandalizing your roommate?”

“Believe me, it’s her turn,” Marinette huffed, climbing on top of him, and looking up at her pretty face with smiling lips bruised from his kisses, haloed by mussed black hair he couldn’t wait to tangle his hands in again, Luka promptly forgot anyone else even existed.

Later, he was nearly asleep, curled around Marinette with the sheet tucked between them, when she whispered, “Luka?”

“Hmm?” he blinked his eyes open, though he couldn’t see much. He felt her tense, though, and moved a hand to her arm, rubbing his thumb along her skin.

“I think I’m falling for you,” she finally said, the sentence half a sigh as the air rushed out of her.

Luka froze for an instant, completely awake now, and he felt Marinette flinch and tense. Quickly he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, and slid his arm around her waist. “Let me know when you’re sure,” he murmured against her skin. “I’m waiting at the bottom to catch you.”

He felt her sigh and relax, and then she rolled, scooting up close against him and pillowing her head on his shoulder. Luka held her, rubbing her back softly, and turned his head to bury his face in the pillow to keep himself from screaming.

On his way out in the morning, Luka gave Alya a broad grin and a two-fingered salute.

***

“Girls, we have a problem,” Alya announced, plopping into a chair and slamming her to-go cup down on the table.

“Good morning to you too, Alya,” Alix muttered, face propped on her fist. “What the hell is it that you needed to talk to us about this early?”

“I met Marinette’s boytoy last night.”

Blank stares from around the table. Alya sighed. “The one night stand? The guy she’s been fucking every night she had free for the last month and more?”

Alix raised her eyebrows. “Still not seeing the point. So Marinette’s getting laid. A lot. Good for her. Wasn’t it your idea for her to get back out there in the first place?”

Alya slapped the table. “That’s just it! She’s not out there! She’s hung up on this dude and my point is that this isn’t like Marinette. You know she can’t just do random hookups. This has been going on for a month straight and you know she’s going to catch feelings, if she hasn’t already. And that guy, he—he’s not Marinette’s type . He’s got tattoos and piercings and dyed hair and his clothes are practically rags!”

“Sounds hot,” Alix observed, and Alya rolled her eyes.

“It’s not Marinette , and he’s definitely not the type who’s looking to settle down with one girl. He’s going to fuck her until she starts wanting more and then he’s going to break her heart. If we’re lucky. If we’re not, he’ll string her along with a bunch of promises, probably cheating on her the whole time, and then really break her heart. This isn’t the kind of relationship Marinette wants!” She waved her hands around for emphasis. “Marinette wants a house and a picket fence and a—a hamster. She needs husband material .”

“It does seem like Marinette wouldn’t be satisfied with a purely physical relationship,” Mylène said hesitantly. “But are you sure this man is no good? What if he does like Marinette?”

“They could totally fall in love! Opposites attract, you know!” Rose added, hooking her arm through Juleka’s with a giggle. “Maybe all Marinette needs is somebody a little bit different to take her mind off...you know. Him .”

“Rose, there’s different and then there’s different, ” Alya sighed. “Some different is okay, but picking up punk guys in nightclubs is a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Mkay,” Alix sighed. “Even supposing we agreed with you, and I’m not saying we do, what would we even do about it?”

“What we need is a distraction,” Alya said, tapping a finger on the table as her brow furrowed in thought. “Someone who can get her mind off of her fuckbuddy and back to thinking about kids and hamsters.”

For a moment the girls sat in silence.

“Well,” Juleka said slowly, as heads turned toward her. “There’s my brother, I suppose. He just got back into town a couple months ago.”

“Oh, that’s true!” Rose exclaimed, laying a finger alongside her cheek as she thought. “Ooh, that could work, Juleka. I mean, if Marinette and this guy are in love, then she’ll just be making a new friend, right? And if Alya’s right, then there’s no harm in just introducing Marinette to someone else.”

Juleka shrugged. “Hard to say with him though, whether he’ll be into Marinette. He’ll either get bored or fall hard. He likes creative types—“

“That’s definitely Marinette,” Alix said dully.

“People who are honest—transparent, even.”

Alix snorted. “Also Marinette.”

Juleka was looking even more thoughtful. “People who don’t back down, who think outside the box...yeah, we could try it.” She shrugged. “Don’t know what Marinette’ll think of him, though.”

“He is very handsome,” Rose pointed out. “Not much like— you know , but that might work in our favor after everything. He looks a little bit like Keanu Reeves, and you know Marinette loves him.”

Juleka snorted. “He wishes he looked like Keanu Reeves.”

“They have the same vibe,” Rose defended.

Juleka just shook her head. “Well, if Marinette’s into ink and piercings and the whole bad boy look right now, it shouldn’t be a problem, anyway. Dumbass looks like the rough type but he’s a total teddy bear. Best of both worlds, I guess.”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Alya declared, clapping her hands. “Plan A. Juleka and Rose are throwing a housewarming party.”

“We are?” chorused Rose and Juleka.

“We’ll invite Marinette, Juleka’s brother will be there, we get them together, and they hit it off, and she kicks her loser booty call to the curb. Problem solved.” Alya nodded firmly.

Alix dropped her head onto her arms. “What’s plan B?” she mumbled. “Seems like this whole plan could fall apart if they end up not liking each other.”

Alya waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll figure that out after we see how this one goes. I’ll have thought of something before the party.”

***

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Marinette said, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she folded her laundry. “I didn’t expect to hear from you today. I thought you had plans tonight.”

“I do,” Luka replied. “I just have a few minutes and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Marinette frowned. “What?”

“Well, I had a very interesting conversation with my sister today,” Luka told her, and she could hear amusement in his voice. “She invited me to a party later this week. Said there’s a friend of hers she’d like me to meet. Thought we might hit it off .”

“O-oh,” Marinette managed, dropping the shirt she held. “Really?” Insecurity flooded up and threatened to drown her. Aside from that one late night conversation, they hadn’t really revisited their relationship status. She hadn’t had the courage to bring it up again. If Luka wanted to meet someone else, he was still technically free to do so, but...but she’d thought...

“Yeah, maybe you know her,” Luka laughed. “She’s in your field, after all. Some hot-shot, up and coming designer named Marinette Dupain-Cheng .”

“Oh. Oh. ” Marinette’s eyes widened, and then she frowned. “Wait, do I know your sister?”

“Well, that’s what I called to find out.” Luka snorted softly. “Know a Juleka Couffaine by any chance?”

“Juleka?” Marinette shrieked. “You’re related to—how did I not know that? Why didn’t she ever say anything? Why didn’t you?” She racked her brains, thinking back.

“Mm, generally we’ve been busy not saying other things. Gotta say Jules hasn’t exactly been on my mind when we’re together.” His low chuckle made Marinette blush.

“Right.” Marinette blushed. “And I suppose I never mentioned your name to her, and Alya just calls you—” She stopped, embarrassed.

“What?” Luka asked, humor in his voice.

“My, um...boytoy.” Luka laughed uproariously, and Marinette began to giggle again. “Or sometimes things that aren’t quite so nice. She thinks you’re not good for me. Because...because of how we met, and all. Um.” She took a breath, hesitating, but then remembered that awful feeling just moments ago when it seemed like the floor had dropped out from under her, and decided it was time to put everything on the table. “She thinks you’re just in it for the sex, and I’m going to get invested and end up getting hurt.”

“Oh, I see.” Luka drawled. “As if I haven’t been head over heels for you since the moment I saw you.” Marinette blushed, and bit her lip, but Luka went on before she could say anything. “I get it. Sounds to me like your roommate’s trying to set you up with someone who’ll take care of you. Get you away from that sex-crazed loser that’s seduced her poor little innocent bestie.”

Marinette buried her face, phone and all, into the throw pillow next to her and giggled until her sides hurt and she was gasping.

“Are you done?” Luka asked, still sounding amused, when the giggling finally subsided. “Or do I need to send someone over there to administer oxygen?”

“I’m fine,” Marinette snickered. “Listen, Luka, my friends are having a party next week and I’ve got this weird feeling they’re trying to set me up. Will you come be my date to Juleka’s party? Maybe—“ She steeled herself and took the plunge. “Maybe if I introduce them to my boyfriend , they’ll back off.

There was a moment of silence. Marinette forgot to breathe.

“I’m going to need you to say that again when we’re in the same room,” Luka said, voice deliciously deep and husky, “So I can kiss you properly. Can you come over?”

Air rushed out of her. “Aren’t you busy tonight?” she asked, and smiled at the sound of his laugh.

“Not anymore.”

“Are you sure?” she teased. “I thought you had plans.”

“Consider them cancelled,” Luka told her, “Get your gorgeous ass over here.”

She did, and after she had said it again, after the kissing and the other soft words, after the more-than-kissing, they cuddled close, happy, sated, and basking in their newly upgraded relationship. Marinette felt Luka stir and prop himself on his elbow.

“You know,” he said, his breath washing across her cheek. “I’m thinking about this party the girls are planning.”

“Do you still want to go?” Marinette asked, reaching up

“Absolutely,” he said, and then his voice dropped, making her shiver slightly as he nuzzled her ear. “But why don’t we make things a little interesting.” He whispered his plan in Marinette’s ear, and she began to giggle.

***

Juleka sighed as she looked at their new apartment, cleaned and decorated without a scrap of cardboard left in the place, and gazed with exasperated fondness on all the little finger sandwiches and appetizers Rose had spent all day making. Luka had better appreciate this, she thought, as she pasted on a smile and started letting in the guests that began to arrive in ones and twos. Well, at least Rose was happy. Any excuse to bust out the glitter and craft paper and try out all these super cute recipes she found on Pinterest.

Juleka was genuinely happy to see Luka, though, when he finally knocked on the door. Her schedule had been packed lately, which was great from a career standpoint, but she hadn’t seen as much of him as she wanted to since he’d come back from his travels. She felt a little guilty that it had taken Alya’s plotting to get her to make room on her schedule to see him.

Well, hopefully she was about to make up for it.

“Hey, Jules,” he said, kissing her cheek and then Rose’s. “Congratulations on the new place.”

“Thanks,” Juleka half-smiled, all the admission she was willing to make that she was glad to see him. She was pleased to note that he’d listened to her admonishments and dressed up. He looked nice, in a black dress shirt open at the collar and jeans that were mostly intact. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his arms, and the dye in his hair was bright and fresh. Good. Maybe he had half a shot with Marinette, if he didn’t open up his big mouth and screw it up.

“We’re so glad you could make it, Luka!” Rose squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. Then she drew back with a dismayed expression. “Oh, but she’s not here yet.”

Luka shrugged. “That’s okay, I’m in no hurry. I meant to tell you, I’ve...actually been seeing someone, to be honest.” He had the grace to look sheepish, and winced at the way Juleka’s eyes widened.

“What?” she asked sharply, and then smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Luka shrugged, and Juleka’s heart sank at the stupid grin that spread over his face. “We weren’t really official until just a few days ago. After we talked about this. I don’t think I’ve put my guitar down since then except to pee, so…I kinda forgot.”

“Gross,” Juleka muttered out of habit.

“Oh,” cooed Rose, clasping her hands together, before grabbing Juleka’s arm and shaking her lightly. “Ohhh, he looks so happy!”

“I am happy,” Luka grinned. “Really, really happy. She’s amazing, I’ve never met anyone like her. It’s maybe too soon to say it, but...this could be it, you know?”

Juleka felt a little sick. She hadn’t realized she was so invested in setting up Luka and Marinette, but the crushing disappointment she now felt said she was. She liked Marinette a lot, and she loved Luka more than almost anyone else in the world, and the more she considered the idea of them together, the more she thought it could work. Even though she had told herself (and Rose) not to get her hopes up, she absolutely had.

But Luka was practically glowing, so Juleka swallowed the sick feeling and told him she was happy for him. And she was, really. She had to be happy about anything that made him smile like that. As much as she would have liked to have Marinette for a sister, she wanted Luka’s happiness over all.

She wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Alya, though. Focus. Luka was looking at her with a little hopeful half-smile on his face and Rose would kill her if she crushed his enthusiasm.

“Well, when you’re sure we won’t scare her off, bring her to dinner.” Juleka punched his arm lightly. “I have to meet the lunatic who would date you.”

“Sure, sounds good. So, is there a tour?” Luka asked with a grin, and Rose bounced on her toes before grabbing onto his arm and tugging him further into the apartment. She gave Juleka one commiserating glance behind his back before she began introducing him to the small gathering of friends in their modest living room.

Juleka sighed and stationed herself back by the door to head off Alya when she came in and warn her.

The next person to show up, though, was Marinette, which was a bit surprising. She was supposed to be coming with Alya, and she wasn’t nearly as late as she usually was. Juleka felt like pouting as she looked over Marinette. She was dressed up too, in a chocolate brown dress that hugged her figure nicely to the waist, covered with a sheer lace overlay that ran up over her neck and shoulders. The skirt hung to her knees in sheer layers edged in scallops of pink lace that were piled thick enough to cover everything important, but thin enough to tease. Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, and she was smiling so cheerfully, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. She’d have been the perfect bait if the trap hadn’t already been sprung. Dammit, Luka , Juleka thought grumpily. You’re missing out, dumbass .

“I brought cookies!” Marinette said breathlessly, holding up a cellophane-wrapped platter. “You can keep the plate, I got it for you.”

Juleka mumbled her thanks, smiling at the combination of cookies shaped like roses and black bats on a platter that matched their new dishes. “Thanks, Marinette. That’s really thoughtful.”

“Of course,” Marinette grinned, bobbing on her toes a little. “I’m so excited for you guys!”

She looked so genuinely excited that Juleka had to smile. “Most everybody is here already,” Juleka told her, waving her on into the apartment. “Rose is in the back showing some people around, but she’ll be back up in a minute. Wine?”

“Please,” Marinette said gratefully, and Juleka poured her a glass. “You did a great job of blending your styles, it looks so pretty in here, but, you know. Juleka pretty and not just Rose pretty. I really like what you did with the curtains—”

Juleka let her ramble on, glancing at the clock now and again. Alya and Alix were due any minute and she had to head Alya off before she did anything...pushy. Luka didn’t like pushy. Marinette drifted into the living room to chat with some other friends—and damn, the front of that dress might be all sweetness and light but the back was really sexy. “Damn it, Luka,” Juleka muttered with a frustrated sigh. “This girl better be fucking incredible.”

Luka was just following Rose back from the spare bedroom the girls were turning into a combination craft/music room, when he caught sight of Marinette chatting with a few other people in the living room.

Rose saw her almost at the same time, and gave a little squeal. “Marinette, you made it!”

Marinette came to hug her, and Luka waited while they exchanged pleasantries, trying to keep his cool so he didn’t give anything away. Finally Rose remembered he was there and turned to him, tugging Marinette forward a little.

“Oh, Marinette, this is Juleka’s brother Luka!” Rose chirped. “Luka, this is Marinette, the friend we were telling you about.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Just long enough to give Rose pause. Then...

“Hi,” Luka said, grinning down at her.

“Hi,” Marinette murmured, smiling up at him.

“You look good enough to eat,” he told her, settling a hand on her hip and tugging her closer. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rose’s eyes widen and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“Is that a promise?” Marinette winked, and the tremble in her voice said she was about to laugh too.

He bent down and she pushed up and they met in a passionate kiss. Her arms went around his neck (she remembered just in time not to dump her wine down his back) and his hands found her back—which was mostly bare, he realized as he felt warm skin under his hands. The noise he made wasn’t very dignified but it would only add to the show; he slid his hands down her back and onto her ass. Just to really sell it, naturally. No doubt she was kneading his chest and shoulders for the same reason.

Damn, she even tasted like chocolate, the little minx. He’d be willing to bet she did that on purpose.

Beside them, Rose practically had to stuff both fists in her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She looked around and grabbed Mylène’s arm, shaking her as Rose hopped up and down.

“Rose, what is—oooohhh,” Mylène’s eyes went round as Rose spun her around to face the kissing couple. Rose leaned down and began to hiss excitedly into her ear. “Wait, slow down— what? ” Mylène slapped her own hands over her mouth and looked at Rose.

“ I know!!” Rose whisper-squealed, reaching up to tug at her short hair with both hands. Both of them looked towards the door, where they could see Juleka letting in Alya and Alix.

“Marinette gave us the slip,” Alya said, rolling her eyes. “Something about needing to pick up a card or some nonsense. She’s looking good, though, which is a good thing for us, right? She’s got this cute little brown dress with pink and she looks like a chocolate strawberry macaroon.”

“Wait till you see the back,” Alix grinned. “Just these two lace panels that meet between her shoulderblades and the rest is bare. Seriously hot. I’m totally begging her to make...” She trailed off as she looked at Juleka’s face. Juleka sighed.

“Listen, Alya, I need to tell you—” Juleka began, but Alya interrupted her, her face scrunching up as she looked at something over Juleka’s shoulder.

“Oh you’re kidding me, I can’t believe she brought him. What is she thinking?” Alya demanded, grabbing Juleka’s arm. “How could you let him in?” Juleka raised her eyebrows, but before she could say anything, Alix had leaned around them to see what Alya was looking at.

“What now?” Alix grumbled.

“Marinette brought her boytoy,” Alya spat, frustrated. “I can’t believe her.” Juleka nearly laughed at the irony until connections started snapping together in her head. With a feeling of dawning horror, she paused and turned slowly to look behind her, just in time to see her brother sticking his tongue down her friend’s throat. I’ll kill him , she thought. “No wonder she didn’t give me any pushback when I suggested she dress up a little,” Alya muttered, but Juleka barely heard her.

“Nice,” Alix said, still leaning around Juleka to see, eyebrows raising in appreciation. Then she frowned. “Hold on, isn’t that—”

At the same time, Juleka blurted “Wait,” and Alix broke off as both she and Alya turned to look at Juleka, who had gone pale. “ That ’ s the guy Marinette went home with? The guy she’s been banging every chance she got since—” A look of horror crossed her face. “That’s who she’s been telling us—oh, gross. ” She put a hand over her mouth, sure she was about to vomit. “Oh my God, I don’t know what I did to deserve this but I deeply regret whatever it was.”

“Never mind all that, we have to find a way to get him out of here before your brother shows up,” Alya hissed.

Juleka groaned and put her face in her hands.

Alix began to laugh. “I do feel sorry for you,” she told Juleka. “I really do. I definitely wouldn’t want to know any of that about my brother.” She paused, and made a face, turning slightly green. “Oh God, did not need that mental image, and mine’s not even real.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” Juleka mumbled. “I can’t believe I have to live with this knowledge.”

Across the room, Marinette broke their kiss long enough to ask, breathlessly, “Think they got the point?” Luka glanced up and began to laugh into her hair as she nibbled his collarbone.

“Juleka’s face is priceless right now.” He dropped his head and licked her neck, before moving his face up to whisper in her ear. “If we don’t get out of here right now I’m going to bust a gut and ruin everything.”

“Then by all means, let’s go,” she giggled. “Tell me the next time they look over.”

Luka glanced up. “Now.”

Marinette slipped her hand between his legs and squeezed, making him jump with a “whoa.”

“Sorry. Too much?” Marinette whispered.

“Not if we’re leaving right now,” he grinned back, and let Marinette take his hand, giving him her best bedroom eyes as she backed towards the door, tugging him along. He didn’t even have to feign the dopey look on his face as he stared back at her. As they passed the knot of her friends, all staring saucer-eyed at them, she waved at them.

“Thanks for inviting me, Juleka! Sorry I have to bow out early, but um...I have something to take care of,” Marinette giggled, handing her wine glass to Alix as she kept towing Luka towards the door. He smirked at Juleka and winked.

“I’ll text you about dinner,” he called over his shoulder, laughing, and then grabbed Marinette’s ass just before they stepped out of the door.

“Holy fuck,” Alix muttered, still gaping at the door. “Was that really Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” She began to laugh. “I am so fucking proud.”

“This isn’t funny!” Alya hissed. “This is a disaster!”

“Oh, it’s hilarious,” Alix gasped, barely able to breathe, and Rose and Mylène nodded, both giggling. Rose squealed, bouncing on her toes.

“This is amazing, I can’t believe it, it’s like fate or something—”

“I’m not sure that’s how fate works.” Mylène was trying to hold in her laughter for Alya’s sake. “But they certainly seem happy together.”

Juleka, still looking a little green, put her hand on Alya’s shoulder before Alya could retort. “Look, it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about her. Luka’s the only person on the planet who’s a bigger sap than Marinette. If he’s into her, he’s all in.” Remembering the way Luka had been glowing when he’d talked about his new girl—when he talked about Marinette —she managed a tiny smile despite her nausea. If Luka got his way maybe she’d have Marinette for a sister-in-law after all.

It was wiped away a second later as Alix guffawed, “Oh, she loves him being all in,” and Juleka groaned.

“I need alcohol now ,” she grumbled. “I am going to give him so much shit in the wedding speech to make up for this.”

***

Outside, Luka and Marinette got to the elevators, and then collapsed against the wall in a brief fit of giggles.

“That was brilliant,” Marinette laughed, squeezing Luka’s arm. “I’m so embarrassed but it was so worth it, did you see Alya’s face?”

“Juleka’s gonna kill me,” Luka chortled. “I can’t wait. Come here.” He pulled her close and kissed her, softer and more carefully than he had inside, and Marinette hummed with pleasure. Not that she hadn’t been enjoying their sloppy makeout, but this was more Luka’s style, and since she loved Luka, she—Marinette paused, and pulled back to look at him, biting her lip as he blinked and smiled softly at whatever he saw in her face. Marinette took a breath.

“I love you,” she said, keeping her eyes on his, though her pulse hammered in her veins. She hadn’t thought his eyes could get any softer, but he looked at her as if she was the greatest treasure in the world as he cupped her cheek and laid a soft kiss on her lips.

“I love you too,” he said roughly, and gathered her up in his arms, squeezing her tight, lifting her off her feet as he squeezed her hard.

Marinette giggled into his shoulder. “Poor Alya,” she muttered. “So wrong and so right at the same time.” She pulled back and kissed him again. “Take me home, before someone catches us making out in the hallway.”

“Too late, dudes.”

They both looked up, and Marinette’s mouth fell open as she saw Nino stepping out of the elevator with a pained expression. “Does the phrase get a room mean anything to you guys?”

“Oh,” Marinette ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry, Nino. By the way, this is Luka. He’s...Juleka’s brother?”

Nino blinked, and then groaned. “Oh, shit.”

Marinette giggled. “We’re um...we’re leaving now. Uh...Alya might be a teensie bit—” She held up her pinched fingers. “...stressed?”

Nino rolled his eyes, but reached back to catch the elevator door for them before it closed. “Guess I’m on damage control,” he sighed, but with a grin. “Come on, get out of here.” Needing no further encouragement, Marinette pulled Luka into the elevator. “Bring him to dinner or something next time,” Nino called as he let the door close. “We can’t keep meeting like this.”

In the elevator, Luka and Marinette looked at each other. “Oops,” she whispered, and they both broke down laughing. Luka hugged her close, and Marinette sighed. “You know,” she mused. “As far as mistakes go…” She smiled up at him. “You’re the best one I ever made.”

#quickspins #oops #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #alya salt #depending on your sensitivity level #nsfwish fic #one night stand to lovers #pro lukamari #i'll never not know you

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angelicmichael · 3 years

Text

renegade

Andy Dolan x reader

Summary: After another night where Hedwig abandons Andy; reader is left with no other choice but to try and help console him the best she can.

Words: 3.6k+

Warnings: vague mentions of drugs and being intoxicated, some jealous! reader, lotsss of angst, brief fluff, mainly hurt/comfort fic tbh hehe, major Hedwig slander oops, maybe a bit of unhealthy relationships (??), slowburn, some conflict/arguing

A\N: hey y’all, hope u enjoy this hehe. I was mostly going for a angst and fluff vibe when I wrote this but it just turned into hurt/comfort so.. hopefully it’s still enjoyable !! :) this takes place sometime in episode three probably lol. ALSO fic is named after the song Taylor swift has recently been featured in 👉🏻👈🏻

The town, Eden; regardless of its beauty was a force to be reckoned with.

Being practically forced to live in a town that was so.. particular was never something you envisioned for your future in the past, but now you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else; even given the choice.

After all how could you exactly complain?

If you were to ask any person- (or any sane person that didn’t know of Eden that well) they would say that living here would sound like complete fucking heaven. A small coastal town, a tight knit community that was overly abundant with beautiful people and drugs seemed beyond euphoric.. and it was. Atleast for the first week or two.

Looking back; you were purely fucking naïve, and far too much of a optimist to assume shit wouldn’t crash or burn eventually.

Your first red flag was Hedwig.

She was one of the first people you met, and you two quickly hit it off and became close but.. things never exactly felt right with her, per say. Maybe it was because of how guarded she was, or because of the drugs she dealt.. it was hard to tell. However; Hedwig was completely fucking harmless compared to the man she introduced you too.

Andy Dolan.

Just like everyone in Eden; he was drop dead gorgeous but.. oddly hostile. At first you only saw him at parties, ones that you tried your best to avoid him at since you knew he had a notorious temper but, Hedwig being the great friend she is introduced you to him.. and that’s all it took.

You two quickly hit it off after that night (mostly because you were tired of Hedwig being your only friend and branching out never hurt anyone.. right?). Your attraction towards each other at first was strictly platonic, that was clear in how he treated you and how careful you were around him. It was almost stupid to try and not think about how pretty he was but letting your gaze linger on him for even more than two seconds felt erroneous.

You saw almost daily (or atleast every other day) how quick he was to anger and how cold he was to nearly everyone he met.. The only exception at this point was you and Hedwig but your sure if you were to even show a sign that you had romantic interest in him, he would drop you without a second thought. That thought alone was beyond fucking torturous but it wasn’t enough to stop you from daydreaming about how soft his hair or lips probably were. Ones that you doubt you would ever get the pleasure of touching but- atleast it was a nice distraction from how fucking weird Eden truly was.

Sure, it was beyond beautiful and the weather was fairly nice most days but that didn’t make up for peoples attitudes; and you weren’t referring to Andy’s. It wasn’t hard to tell that people were strangely secretive and cliquey, which only really left you with Hedwig and Andy for your friends. No matter how pretty she was, Hedwig was really only surface level friendly so you never particularly trusted her. That only left Andy (which wasn’t exactly any better when it came to being friendly but you knew he cherished your company, which was way more you could say about Hedwig).

However; it didn’t take too long for you and Andy to form a routine. Every weekend he would throw a party and you would stay with him after. The first time it happened, it was purely because you were far too fucked up to go anywhere else (which perhaps is also why Andy finally started being nice to you..) but after that, it was a question you never had the heart to say no too.

How could you? It’s not like he exactly had anyone else which made the possibility of saying no, close to impossible. Just because everyone else who lived in Eden were assholes didn’t mean you were going to be one, which is what lead you to your current predicament.

Five calls you had made that had all been unanswered is what currently lit up your phone screen, as well as your room. It was far past midnight and instead of sleeping like any other sane person would be doing - you were calling Andy or trying too anyway but he wasn’t fucking answering.. naturally.

You weren’t calling for any particular reason, but that wasn’t the point anymore. The fact that Andy wasn’t answering was a huge warning that something was wrong, after all it was a weekday and you knew he wasn’t sleeping or exactly busy.

Unless.. He was with Hedwig?

The thought automatically made your blood run hot under your skin. The feeling seething and utterly consuming until you quickly found yourself going out to your car. Doing the only thing that you knew would make your sudden paranoia go away.

As you drove through the roads that were completely vacant of any other cars and drove past houses and neighborhoods that also looked vacant of any life - you couldn’t help but to think why you even cared.

Andy never really showed interest in you, so what if Hedwig and Andy were actually doing anything?? Unless you caught them in the act, it’s not like either of them would admit to doing shit anyway but that didn’t stop you from still feeling irrationally angry and a bit betrayed.

You didn’t realize how tight you were gripping the steering wheel until you stopped the car and had to let go of it. Your fingers unnecessarily clenched and stiff to the point where they physically ached. Not to mention, you were shaking with the possibility that you could really find them here together, but now that you were actually here- you quickly realized that there was no other car here.

Odd.

You quickly (and quietly) stepped out of the car and paced up to Andy’s house. Not bothering to knock as you let yourself in, knowing that Andy wouldn’t necessarily mind that you did so.. well, you knew if he wasn’t with Hedwig anyway.

The only thing you heard were your footsteps as you took a few steps into the house. Looking cautiously for any signs of life.. any sounds or anything that could indicate anyone was in the house at all but you found nothing.

It took your eyes a minute to adjust to the near pitch darkness that omitted from the large windows that sat on the vast majority of the living room walls. The only light came dimly from the kitchen but even that was too sparse to truly allow you to see anything.

You slid your shoes off and left them by the door, not wanting your steps to allude to your presence before you could see him first and say something. Your steps far more quiet and easier to control now that you only had socks covering your feet.

You made it about halfway up the stairs, originally trying to make a beeline to Andy’s room but quickly freezing once you heard something.

It was shallow and soft but, with the contrast of pure stark silence it was nearly fucking deafening. It was a whimper at first, and it was coming from downstairs on the couch.

Your heart sank once you realized what exactly you were listening too. The first sniffle you heard nearly making you jump from how off guard you suddenly felt; that was the last thing you were expecting to hear..

You looked down from the staircase at the couch; making out a very dim outline of someone slumped over and sitting on the edge with their head in their hands. Their chest and back heaving from how deep they were crying..

You stood idle for a moment, not knowing whether to continue standing or to leave silently but you felt as if you didn’t exactly have a option. Even without asking or being able to necessarily see; you knew who it was but even knowing this- you knew getting him to talk was a good first step.

“Andy?”

Your voice automatically cut off his sobs - almost stopping instantaneously.

You saw his hands move down from his face and drop down to his lap, his head turning up to look at you. Your eyes finally adjusting to the near pitch black atmosphere.

The silence only permeated the room for about three seconds but that was nearly far too long to withstand. Knowing how unpredictable Andy was, you didn’t know if the words that were going to come out of his mouth were going to be kind or purely vile.

You started to speak fast without a second thought, the silence driving you to immediately apologize and try to fix the damage before Andy completely went off on you.

“I’m really sorry. I just got worried because you weren’t answering my calls and I wanted to make sure you were okay, but.. obviously your not,” You said. Swallowing harshly after realizing that Andy was still diligently listening and not cutting you off or telling you to leave.. That had to be a good sign, right? “What happened?” You pressed on.

“What do you think happened?” Andy answered quickly. His voice rough and rugged from sobbing, as well as probably from previously yelling.

You slowly walked down the stairs, choosing to not shy away from his sudden outburst of anger. You weren’t exactly certain which direction you would go in once you were finished descending.. but atleast you knew Andy wasn’t fucking Hedwig. Not right now at the very least.

“Was it Hedwig?” you blindly guessed. Wanting to affirm what you were so desperately hoping wasn’t true and that you could finally relax a bit. That’s if Andy wasn’t mad that you practically broke into his house.. but he didn’t seem to be. Not right now anyway.

You heard him softly laugh in response which made you smile for a second. You could tell by how he was previously crying and in the tone of his voice that he was still hurt. His laugh wasn’t genuine in the slightest; but it showed that he was done crying for the moment which was worth a smile.

“Why does it matter to you if it was her?”

“So it was,” you affirmed.

Your feet stepped off of the final step, and you found yourself approaching Andy. The choice came naturally. The closer you got to him the more apparent it was how broken he truly looked. He stopped crying but his eyes and cheeks were still glossy and wet with tears. His lips red and trembling; among looking entirely and utterly broken there was a hint of agitation present as well. You started to wonder if Hedwig truly did something or if Andy once again was blowing things out of proportion.

“Will you tell me what happened?” You asked cautiously. Your voice was soft, not wanting to unintentionally come off as too strong or hostile.

He studied you hesitantly and with a gleam of uncertainty in his eye - but nonetheless he patted the seat next to him on the couch he was sitting on. Silently urging you to sit next to him and letting you know that he would probably tell you what happened.

At first he remained quiet. Awkwardly avoiding what he knew you wanted to talk about but he still remained silent.. but his voice suddenly broke through. Making you jump at the unexpected sound that suddenly sounded so loud, even though in reality his voice was still low in tone.

“She left me.”

You stared at him numbly for a second, not feeling necessarily surprised at his words (After all, since when was Hedwig not a flight risk?) but instead feeling weirdly a bit frustrated and sad for Andy.

You knew exactly how he felt; it wasn’t like this was the first time this ever happened but hopefully it would be the last. Seeing Andy this sad and broken over someone who in reality, didn’t give two fucks about him was beyond heartbreaking. It hurt even worse for you to keep witnessing him coming back to her though.

Just when you finally opened your mouth to speak he cut you off.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s my fault and I’m such a fucking idiot-“

“Andy, stop!” You said a bit too loudly. You tried your best to hold eye contact with him when he finally turned to meet your gaze as he reluctantly looked at you. You fought the impulse to apologize for raising your voice but there was no need because you didn’t truly feel sorry. He needed to hear you out. “You need to stop blaming yourself. Hedwig’s actions aren’t your fault.. she’s like that with everyone, Andy. She’s always been-“

“I don’t give a fuck what she’s like with other people y/n! She should’ve acted differently with me, she was supposed to care about me and stay..” his words cut off with a deep inhale.

He was trying not to sob and failing miserably.

Andy quickly left the couch, taking a few steps away from you with his back turned. Trying to compose himself as you sat and.. felt entirely guilty.

Even though he had practically blown up at you; you weren’t leaving but you knew approaching him wasn’t the answer either, so you stayed seated at the couch. Hoping he would atleast sit back down next to you.

“I can’t control Hedwig or what she does, Andy but I know solely saying that I’m sorry isn’t enough either,” you started and then paused. The words you wanted to say next.. words that you knew were true but barely had the courage to say were heavy on your tongue. You knew this wasn’t exactly the time to even be thinking about how you truly felt for Andy but you couldn’t help it.

You wanted nothing more than for it to stop. His tears, his words and pleading with Hedwig, your feelings.. it wasn’t enough to just submit to it anymore and to be a witness to how you truly felt. If anything, it was slowly but surely driving you mad and you knew unless you atleast hinted at the fact that it was making you upset; Andy wouldn’t change his behavior.

You knew he payed for sex from Hedwig, it was the one thing that always kept her coming back no matter how he acted and well.. Even if his time was being bought, he liked the attention. He craved it.

It felt weird to admit to yourself that he was taking you for granted.. because he wasn’t really but, compared to how he treated Hedwig - you were definitely on the back burner. You didn’t blame him; why would he ever notice you when he could have someone like Hedwig?

You slowly looked back at Andy, noticing he was staring at you once again with glossy blue eyes which appeared dark in the lighting. A dark, almost midnight blue that would surely match the ocean waves that you could faintly hear from inside the house since the back door was open. He looked a bit annoyed but mostly intrigued. He was waiting for you to continue.

“But you deserve better, Andrew. You shouldn’t allow her to repeatedly do this to you because I know she knows how upset it makes you. She doesn’t care-“

“How do you know how Hedwig feels about me y/n?! You need to keep her name out of your fucking mouth. You don’t know her like I do,” Andy spoke roughly.

You stared at him blankly for a moment. Purely appalled that he was saying this to you in total seriousness; but you knew in reality that it was foolish to be surprised.. to not expect that he would talk to you like this eventually. After all; he blew up at everyone else, why wouldn’t he do the same to you?

You knew nothing made you inherently different and well.. this was just proving that assumption. Andy never viewed you differently from anyone else; that was now crystal clear.

Your hands started to gently tremble in your lap; and it didn’t take long for the rest of your body to follow suit. The sadness and self pity quickly washed away in what was quicker and more rapid than waves. Anger surged through your veins, forcing you to stand up suddenly. You could barely stand to make eye contact as you spoke, barely able to bear to witness how your words made him feel.

“Don’t talk to me like that. You don’t get to talk to me like that. If I didn’t randomly decide to come and check on you because I guess I’m the only one who actually gives a fuck about you, then you would’ve been alone again with no one to yell at. And maybe that would’ve been for the best,” You turned around on your heels. Walking fast and headed for the door, trying to quickly slip your shoes on before you heard Andy’s voice solemnly.

“Y/n wait.”

You stood still at first, weirdly feeling numb and waiting for the metaphorical shoe to drop. Andy’s voice was soft this time as he spoke, the roughness that was present earlier was long gone but.. you didn’t trust it.

You waited for him to catch his breath and to raise his voice and just say more words he would apologize for later; your throat tightened as you felt your body react almost instinctively. You slipped the other shoe you previously put on back off. Turning around just enough so that you could make eye contact, or attempt too with the horribly dim lighting.

“Yeah? Wait for what?”

Andy swallowed in response to your words. Almost bashfully looking down briefly to avoid saying anything or having to look at you any longer. You could see tears staining his cheeks, continuing to run down and nearly slid down his neck. He looked pathetic; and it would’ve almost been funny to see a grown man fully sob in front of you with no shame if it wasn’t your best friend and well.. the person you loved.

“Never mind. You were right; it’s probably best if you just go,” Andy’s voice cracked.

You wanted to believe that the best option for you was to turn around and leave but your judgment felt entirely skewed. Was it really the right thing to turn around and leave when he needed you? Probably not.

You knew if the roles were changed and you were the one who was upset that Andy would probably stay.. but that also depended on other circumstances as well, of course.

Stepping away from your shoes and the entrance of Andy’s house; you approached him. You tried to do so as quickly as possible before he could try to stop you or protest, but by the time he looked up you were barely a foot away.

You reached up, and with a shaky hand (that you hoped desperately he didn’t notice or wouldn’t swat away) you gently placed your fingertips on his cheek. Your thumb softly pressing against his skin, dragging your finger up as to wipe away his tears as the rest of your fingers lie under his jaw.

You tried to ignore how unsettled he looked at you doing this, and how he almost looked uncomfortable or as if he was on the brink of telling you off.. but he didn’t. He watched you diligently as you continued to brush away his tears.

“I’m sorry.. But I couldn’t stand to see you like that,” you said. Trying to give some rational explanation for your behavior even though, Andy didn’t look like he particularly cared why you were doing it. It was the fact you were doing it at all that seemed to have his interest piqued.

You tried to pull your hand back since his cheeks were dry, but he stopped you. His hand softly grabbed your wrist before his hand slid into yours.. your fingers slowly lacing together before you turned your gaze from your laced hands up to his eyes.

“Will you stay?” He asked. His voice was still rough and gravelly but this time, it was starting to sound a bit genuine.

You studied him for a second longer - your mouth dry but you knew the answer before you even spoke.

“Yeah. I’m not going to leave you Andy. I’m not Hedwig,” you spoke as if it were more of a promise rather than a statement.

You felt your stomach churn for a split second as you remembered how he scolded you earlier for talking down on Hedwig, but you smiled instead. The laughter you heard quickly subsiding your previous emotions.

“Okay,” He spoke almost uncertainly.

You could see the outline of him walking away before you felt him gently pull on your hand; making you follow him into the dark hallway which would eventually lead too, you could only guess, what would be his room.

Holding his hand like this almost felt weird but you couldn’t deny how almost.. right it felt too. Even perfect, you would dare say.

There was no way to guess what the rest of the night would entail but you didn’t exactly mind guessing; after all, how could you complain if you were to spend it with Andy?

You couldn’t. There was no way you could.

Whether it was platonic or not, spending the rest of the night right next to Andy, most likely in his clothes since you didn’t bother to bring any more of your own, sounded like heaven.

And since when did you ever complain about spending a night with someone that you had craved so bad?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @twilightzone24

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed to the taglist :)

#Andy Dolan x reader #Andy x reader #Andy Dolan fanfic #andy dolan fanfiction #Andy Dolan #my fic #will crosspost to ao3 shortly #not 100% happy w this but oh well lol

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ameliajessicawilliamspond · 3 years

Text

PART 2

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A heavy kick to his ribs was Luke Skywalker's rude awakening.

"Rise and Shine, sweetheart!" A cruel voice mocked.

"Come on, Qiler." Someone responded, exasperated.

Luke looked around the room grogily. The jedi was surrounded by five men, his hands bound above his head to an old rusty poll in a cold, dingy bunker. His head was still spinning from whatever they had given him to knock him out.

"Hey, kid!" A man to his left slapped him across the face to get his attention. "What are you doing in our territory?"

Luke bit his lip, thinking. If they knew why he was here, they might kill him. If they knew who he was, they might kill him. If he said nothing, they might kill him. Either way, this was not an ideal situation to be stuck in. His silence earned him a punch to the stomach from the larger man to his right. "My friend just asked you a question. I suggest you answer."

"Haha! Good one, Keye!" Another laughed.

"I..." Luke began before biting his tongue once more. He had to decide how best to deal with this situation. He could use the force right now, break the bonds, take these ruffians out and be done with it. After all, Din was unconscious somewhere out there in the cold; freezing, dying, alone....

But these men may be their only help around for miles. Plus, they could be the smugglers who had found the holocron, which means it could be close.

He had to be smart about this.

Luke leaned forward, his mouth open as if he was about to speak, before sighing and leaning back against the cold metal behind him. "Nah, you guys wouldn't know what I'm looking for."

"What do you mean?" The man in the middle -Qiler, he remembered the skinny one say earlier- asked.

"It's just that...well," Luke looked them up and down, wrinkling his nose. "it's above YOUR paygrade." He said, as snoody as he could, earning himself another slap across the face. Qiler grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him close enough that their noses nearly touched.

"We are the famous Smugglers of Kajimi." He said, glaring into the jedi's eyes.

Luke blinked. "...Who?"

"The..." Qiler stuttered. "We're..." His grip loosened as he broke eye contact to look at his comrades. They all looked as surprised as he was. "You've never heard of us?"

"Sorry." Luke shrugged. "Must be local fame or something."

"Where are you from?" The skinny one asked.

"Ever heard of the Galatic Republic?" The jedi felt tension rush through the room at his words. "I was sent on a mission to find some artifact for them."

"What kind of artifact?" The big meaty one asked.

"Like I said, you've probably never even heard of it." Luke said, sitting back again, nonchalantly. "I mean, it's common knowledge where I'm from, but maybe not all the way out here."

Qiler reached forward at lighting speed, grabbing his jaw and pulling him close once again.

"What. Is. It?" He demanded.

Luke stared the man down for a moment before yanking his face from the man's grasp. "A Jedi Holocron."

The men looked at each other. Luke shrugged, regaining his non-chalant demeanor. "Like I said, I'm sure you've never heard of it. Why would you?" He laughed.

"Oh yeah, smartass?" Qiler yelled, turning back toward the table behind him. He reached into a drawer and pulled out an odd cube.

There it was.

Din was right. The Smugglers of Kajimi did find it. But they hadn't sold it yet!

"What do you think of that?" He said, tossing it in the air like it was a ball and not one of the rarest artifacts in the galaxy.

"I think you better give that to me so I can return it to the Republic." Luke said, his whole demeanor had changed, his tone low and serious.

Qiler let out a hearty laugh, putting it down on the table with a loud thump that made the Jedi flinch. "Empire, Republic, none of them have ever done nothing for me."

Luke took a deep breath before shrugging and leaning back against the pole that held him there, trying to regain his charade. "Oh well. The Republic would have paid you big for that, as well as for me." He made his eyes go wide, feigning surprise. "...oops."

"What was that?" Qiler asked, rising from his seat.

Luke stayed silent.

"Maskter, run a search on him." He said and the group turned their backs on him. Maskter ran through the bounty database before finally pulling up Luke's bounty.

"A jedi?" Maskter read. The group looked between each other. The bounty on him was...It was insane.

Just as they were about to round on the jedi, Luke sprang into action. He snapped his binds and stood, extending his hand and shoving the group apart with the force. He pulled Din's scarf from his back pocket and rushed forward, grabbing and wrapping the holocron in the fabric before making a break for the door.

It flew open, intense cold rushing in and wrapping around his body like frozen fingers gripping at his limbs. A sudden memory flashed through his mind of --Cold, so cold, Ben? Ben was here. Degoba? Pain, pain, pain...Han?-- He shook his head, pulling himself from the awful memory and rushed into the snow, cradling the artifact. He didn't know where he was, and he didn't care. He knew he had to get out of the area first, find the waterfall, get Din and get the kriff home. His mind swam with the last image of Din he had; laying on the bank, reaching for him...

Engrossed in his own worry, he missed the sudden sharp warning in the Force as something tore through his abdomen.

Luke stopped in his tracks, the air sucked out of his lungs. With wide eyes, Luke slowly looked down, his hand touching his stomach. When he pulled it away, it was wet with blood.

A bullistic. And not blaster fire, a solid bullet had gone through his body.

So, his bounty was dead or alive, then?

Luke dropped to his knees, one shaking hand gripped over the wound and the other clinging desperately to the wrapped holocron.

Behind him he heard voices. The smugglers were gaining on him.

Luke screwed his eyes shut, trying, desperately trying to push past the pain spreading through his body. He stood slowly, ever so slowly, placing the holocron down next to him.

He stretched out his fingers, trying to stall their shaking with little results. The men got closer, their voice grew louder. He raised his arms high in the air before slamming them down. The earth beneath him shook and a huge flurry of snow flew up behind him, blinding the group pursuing him. They screamed in frustration as they stumbled and got lost in the sudden snow storm.

Luke bent down, letting out a cry as his wounded side protested the movement, then ran as fast as he could. He ran and ran and ran, not caring where he ended up, he just had to away. Away from the smugglers, the bunker, the violence, the pain. He ran until his body didn't allow him to run anymore. He found a large snowbank and rushed behind it, falling behind the freezing cover, hoping it was enough to shield him from his pursuers. Luke gasped in breath after breath, trembling hands gripped against his wound, dropping the holocron next to him so both hands could put pressure on the wound. His body wouldn't respond anymore, too cold, too hurt to move. Luke choked back a sob as another rush of pain went through him.

He really hated the cold.

"I'm sorry, Din." He mumbled, before slipping into unconciousness.

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"Luke!" Din woke with a start, the jedi's name dripping from his lips. He sat up before instantly regretting it, his aching body bringing him swiftly back to the ground.

"Well, well, the sleeping beauty awakens." A gruff voice says from behind him. He turns to see a woman entering the doorway, a pile of logs in her arms. She looked to be in her late 60's with long blue hair and shining orange eyes hidden behind the markings of wisdom her age had earned her.

"Where am I?" Din asked.

"You are a guest in my home, even if as a reluctant one." She said, tending the fire.

Din's memory began to catch up with him and he remembered his last cognitive memory; Luke being drugged and dragged away by strangers as they left him for dead. "Where is my companion?"

"I didn't seen anyone else. Although there were a lot of markings on the ground from what looked like a scuffle." She told him.

"Who's out here?" Din asked.

The woman froze for a moment. "There's been some activity around the waterfall within the last week."

"Pirates?" Din questioned.

Her glowing eyes latched onto his helmet. "The Spice Runners of Kajimi."

Din's chest tightened. If the Spice Runners discovered who he was, Luke would be in a world of danger. His face was plastered all over the bounty boards, and from what he last saw a few of those were marked "dead or alive." He stood up, rushing toward the door.

"Hey, a thank you would be nice!" The woman yelled after him.

Din froze, hand hovering over the door handle, before turning back toward his host. "How did you know to check the lake?"

The woman's eyes became distant. "I just...felt like I needed to go there." She explained slowly, like she wasn't sure what had brought her there herself. "There was this...feeling. Like the heaviness of desperation was burnt into the air, a silent voice begging for help through the wind..."

Din sucked in a breath.

--Oh, Luke...-- Din thought.

"Thank you for saving me. I have to go." He said, turning back to the door.

"This companion of yours, must be pretty important." She said. Din didn't answer. The woman stared him down, studying him before reaching down into a bag and pulling out a metal cylinder. She tossed it to the Mandalorian. Din caught it, studying the tube. It was Luke's Lightsaber.

"Found that near the lake. This friend of yours. He's one of those jedi." She said. It wasn't a question.

Din stayed silent.

"I used to run with them. I know where their base is." She said.

"Why are you helping me?" Din asked.

The woman turned her head and bit her lip, contemplating what to say. "One of his kind helped me get away from those people when they turned on me. It's only right I return the favor."

"You knew a jedi?" Din asked, stepping toward her.

"A togruta woman. She carries two of those. She was looking for someone, ended up finding me instead..." She reminisced. "But that's a story for another time." She said, making her way toward a drawer against the wall. She reached in, pulling a holomap from it, then handed it to Din. He activated it, the place where Luke was being held glowing before his eyes. He wasn't far. He thanked her again, shaking her hand. She nodded at him. "Go find your jedi."

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

Luke's could feel hands on him, shaking him back into consciousness. One was gripping his shirt, the other tapping his face. Someone was trying to wake him up.

"Din?" Luke whispered out, hoping beyond hope.

"He's alive!" Someone yelled. Luke screwed his nose up at the sound.

That wasn't Din's voice.

He was pulled roughly to his knees, the movement jostling his aching body and pulling a cry from his trembling lips.

"You wanna treat us like we're stupid?" The voice said above him, hitting him hard across the jaw. "You wanna pretend you're better than us?" He said again, a knee entering his sternum, causing the jedi to cough, blood mixed with spit falling on the prestine white snow.

"Please..."Luke begged, his body screaming against the assault.

"Oh, now you want to beg? Too late!" The man mocked. "You make a mockery of us, you don't leave alive!" He yelled. Something cold and hard was pressed against Luke's forehead.

"Hey, we may get more credits if he's alive!" Someone yelled from behind Qiler.

"No! You saw that thing he did with the snow! He's too dangerous, I want him dead!" The man screamed, beyond crazed with anger. The barrell was removed from his head, the man grabbing him by the jaw, ripping Luke's head up to look at him as a knife was pressed to his throat. "The only question is if I wanna do it fast or slow." He growled.

Before Qiler could make his desicion, the earth erupted around them.

Single spikes from what seemed to be bombs set off around the perimeter. A row of them cut off Qiler from the rest, seperating the party. Qiler looked around at the disruption before turning his wide, crazed eyes back to the jedi. "What did you do!?" He screamed. Luke was too cold, in too much pain to respond, he tried to shake his head to convey this wasn't his doing this time. Qiler hoisted Luke up by the shirt and flipped him around so that his back was flush against Qiler's chest, knife to his throat as the smuggler backed away from the commotion. Scattered screams echoed incoherently through the blinding snow as whoever was hunting them made their way through the crew.

Using the diversion to his advantage, Luke shoved the man off him with the little amount of Force he could muster, his broken body crumpled to the ground.

Qiler recovered, letting out a frustrated scream as he barrelled after the jedi. He grabbed his ankles and flipped Luke onto his back, pinning his arms above his head and digging a knee into the wound on his side, mounting him. Luke screamed, his voice cracking in the process. The knife was pressed to his throat once again, this time, drawing blood. "Bye bye, jedi." He mocked.

But his threat remained unfinished, thanks to the blaster bullet the just went through his skull. The man fell off Luke with a thump, legs still tangled around his damaged torso.

Luke didn't move, he couldn't anymore. Any adrenaline he had left was sucked dry the second he landed on the ground. He lay there, staining the white snow red like the sands of Crait, shivering so violently it could be mistaken for convulsing. He heard footsteps approaching him. Luke pinched eyes shut, waiting for whoever hunted down the smugglers to do the same to him.

"Luke?"

The jedi's eyes shot open. That voice sounded familiar.

The man kneeled down next to the fallen jedi. Luke gasped, in spite of himself as a familiar helmet came into view. "You're alive?"

Din Djarin nodded. "I told you we were getting off this blasted rock, didn't I?"

Luke's wrecked body finally caught up to him. Every nerve seemed to be frozen over, except for his side which screamed at every movement. He caught a glance at his reflection in Din's visor. His blond hair was thick and frozen, little blond icicles dipped in red from the blood that had pooled around him. His lips were purple, chapped beyond compare. His neck leaked blood from where the knife had pushed in and Luke realized this was the first time he'd ever experienced a murder attempt that was actually a threat since... He couldn't hold back the sob that escaped his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Luke, this never should of happened. I'm so, so sorry." Din said, voice shaken as he put pressure on the wound, pulling a cry from the younger man. Din shook his head. "Kark that blasted holocron, I'm taking you home."

The Holocron! Luke looked past Din, spotting the artifact still wrapped in the scarf. Luke reached toward it, trying to pull it with the Force. When the thing wouldn't budge, Luke let out a grunt of frustration, trying to sit up. Din pushed him back down. "Luke, enough, please, cyare, enough." He begged, taking Luke's shaking hand in his own.

"No, Din, please, please!" He managed to say, ripping his hand free from Din's, pointing a trembling finger at the wrapped box.

Din glanced back, spotting what had Luke's attention. "I can get another one, it's alright." He said about the scarf, continuing his field medicine.

"No, no! Please!" Luke insisted, wiggling against the pressure on his abdomen, shoving at Din's hands. Din let out a sigh as Luke stubbornly pointed at the scarf again.

"Okay. Okay, cyar'ika, alright. Put pressure on this." He instructed, guiding Luke's frozen hands to his side, pressing them into it. He stood, fingers lingering over the man's wrecked body for a moment, before turning to go. "I'll be right back." He promised.

Luke watched with greying vision as the mandolorian reached down and picked it up. With a sigh of relief, he looked back up at the sky, watching the snow fall lightly around him. He had stopped shivering, something that should have worried him more than it was. He didn't have the energy to care, he was too tired. His eyes slipped closed and he gave into oblivion.

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

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There will be a part 3!!!! Comment in the notes if you'd like to be tagged in it!

EDIT: Just went through and fixed a few buggy parts. Sorry, did not check this right the first time! Hopefully that's a bit better!

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

Town council Hermann vs Alien Conspiracy Newt please!!!

THIS WAS FUN!!! inspired both by this tweet and conversations abt a newt/herm AU of that tweet with @k-sci-janitor (who also thought of the funniest sign newt made in this fic, aka the cheekbones one, and what his tats should look like). this is long sorry :/ gets a little spicy towards the end but nothing worse than a high pg13/light M

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The evening of the weekly town council meeting, it pours like nothing else. Which Hermann figures is really quite appropriate. Loathe as he is to soak his trouser legs, trudge through the mud that used to be his front walk, and hold his umbrella for so long his arm aches (for the community center is a mere half-mile walk away that Hermann can't justify substituting with a bus), he can't imagine council meetings happening in any other sort of weather. In fact, they rarely tend to; their dreariness seems to be a necessity, part of the preparation, as if to put everyone in as miserable a mood as possible.

Hermann hates council meetings. He supposes he'd be more sympathetic towards the plights of his constituents—if one can call one's neighbors constituents—if he'd wanted the damned job in the first place. As it is, he feels a bit like he was conned into it. Hermann had been a lowly physics professor at the local community college, passionate about public education and funding for public education and all those proper sorts of things an educator ought to be concerned about, when he suddenly found himself seized with the idea of making a difference. So he ran for a head position on the council. And he won it. Only no one told him that the council deals a lot less with public education and a lot more with noise complaints, cul-de-sac bake sales, and raccoons in dustbins, which makes why he ran completely unopposed all the more obvious.

A fat raindrop explodes against the edge of Hermann's umbrella and splashes his glasses. Hermann grits his teeth and wipes them dry with the cuff of his sweater. Bloody meeting; bloody rain; Hermann just wants to go back home, and fix up a nice pot of herbal tea, and set a blanket in the dryer for ten minutes, and...

"Dr. Gottlieb! Hey, Dr. Gottlieb, wait—!"

A blur in an oversized yellow raincoat hurdles itself at Hermann from the stairs of the community center. Hermann considers pretending he is a different Dr. Gottlieb, one who certainly has no reason to know maniacs in raincoats, or maybe high-tailing it in the other direction. This is the other reason why Hermann loathes council meetings: Newton Geiszler.

The unfortunate thing is that Newton Geiszler was, at one point, a respectable academic type, and in fact one of Hermann's own colleagues at the community college. (Hermann only found this out after the fact—he does not make a habit of intermingling much with the biology department.) And Hermann does mean was. Around a year ago, Geiszler was asked to temporarily step down from his position after he suddenly and unexpectedly went off the deep end. He has not been asked to come back yet. And not without reason. "Dr. Geiszler," Hermann sighs. "I've asked you not to lurk about here like that. It's...unsettling."

"Sorry, man, sorry," Geiszler shouts. He stomps over and makes himself at home under Hermann's umbrella. Hermann's not sure how he's been managing to see anything, let alone Hermann approaching down the sidewalk: his glasses are completely fogged-up and rain-splattered. "Do you mind if—thanks, dude."

Geiszler flips his hood down. He’s short, only coming up to Hermann's nose, with stubble nearly overgrown to a full beard and a mess of wet brown hair. He shakes that hair now, like a dog, soaking Hermann in the process. Hermann growls. "I beg your pardon,” he says.

"Oops,” Geiszler says. “Sorry. Anyway, Dr. Gottlieb, I'm really glad I caught you, there are—there are some things I wanted to tell you about. Before the meeting. They're—hold on." He rummages around in the deep pockets of his raincoat and produces a damp notebook, which he begins to flip through frantically. "It's about—"

"I know what it's about," Hermann says. Geiszler fumbles to push his glasses back up his nose. "In fact, there are some things I need to speak with you about as well."

"You've seen them?" Geiszler says in a hushed tone.

Hermann scowls. "I certainly have.”

They first started cropping up in the forest around the little cabin Geiszler calls home. Then, like dandelions or bamboo, they spread fast and far—to the town commons, in the front lawn of the coffee shop Hermann frequents, in front of his house. Whenever Hermann dashes one down with his cane or hauls one off to a rubbish bin, two more only crop up in its place. It's annoying, frankly. As if Hermann doesn't have to deal with enough already.

3 ALIEN ABDUCTIONS IN ONE WEEK - WHEN IS THE COUNCIL GOING TO DO SOMETHING?, the new one sitting in front of the community center says.

It's better than last week's sign, Hermann supposes. THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE - AND HERMANN GOTTLIEB IS BLIND TO IT.

"You know you need a permit for those, Dr. Geiszler," Hermann says. "Or, at the very least, the council's permission. They're a public nuisance."

"My signs are a public nuisance?" Geiszler shouts. Hermann flinches back. Geiszler may be compact, but if he doesn't have the shrillest voice on the whole damned planet. "Open your eyes, dude! A dozen people went missing last month! The only public nuisance is whatever's coming from—" He bites his lip and jabs his finger at the sky, as if saying anything remotely akin to outer space would suddenly send fleets of UFOs pouring down from above. "And you're just letting them walk right fucking in."

“I thought they were flying in?" Hermann says. He raps Geiszler’s shin with the end of his cane. "Do get out of my way, Dr. Geiszler. The meeting starts in ten minutes, and you're welcome to air all of your grievances then."

Geiszler is silent as Hermann ducks around him and ascends the community center ramp. For a moment, Hermann thinks he may have won this small victory, and then he hears the wet slaps of Geiszler's rain boots against the pavement behind him. "Really funny," Newton says. "Real fucking funny, dude. I bet it'll be just as funny when they come for you next!"

Hermann unlocks the door. Geiszler waves a stack of black-and-white polaroids beneath his nose. "I took these last week," Geiszler says, and begins flipping through them as frantically as he had his notepad. Each one is blurry and indistinct, like Geiszler snapped them through a gauzy curtain with shaking hands. Hermann's not sure what he's meant to be looking at. "The day that waitress went missing from the bus stop. And two nights after that—your neighbor, the one who went outside to let his cat in and never came b—"

"Enough," Hermann says. He pushes the polaroids away, knocking two to the ground, and Geiszler scrambles to pick them up before they're ruined. "Dr. Geiszler, it is undoubtedly tragic that these people have—er—vanished, as they have, but continuously insisting extraterrestrials had something to do with it, and furthermore—" Geiszler opens his mouth as if to argue, but Hermann raises his voice and pushes on. "—furthermore, that I'm meant to do something about it, is completely—well, it's unhinged, frankly. I'm not law enforcement. Or the mayor. Or bloody—NASA. What do you want from me?"

Geiszler stares at him for a long time. He pockets his photographs. "They're gonna come for you," he says, ominously. "Just like they did for me."

The meeting goes off as expected, which is to say, badly. Hermann gets shouted at by nearly everyone in town, many of whom blame Hermann and his presumed negligence for the disappearances over the past year as well (blessedly, they don't also blame aliens), though many more of them blame him for more trivial things such as the broken water fountain in the commons or the library's slow wireless internet. Hermann can't decide which is worse.

As it is, when the clock strikes eight, he's more than ready to go home. "Right," he announces, standing up and making a show of tidying his meeting notes. They're already tidy: Hermann's notes are always meticulous. He continues—rather quickly, in case someone gets bold and attempts to interrupt him, "Thank you all very much for such a, er, productive meeting. I'll make sure to pass along everything you've said to the appropriate people. If there's nothing else..."

Geiszler jumps to his feet. A few people groan; Hermann has a feeling they're just about as sick of him as Hermann is. "Um, yeah, actually, I want to add something."

"No," Hermann says. “Dr. Geiszler, please, we can talk—”

"When we were outside," Geiszler continues anyway, raising his voice, "you asked me what I wanted you to do. Well, I just want you to listen to me! That's all! I have so much proof—so much I can show you—and you won't even—!"

"Proof?" Hermann says. "Your rubbish photographs?”

"It's not just the photographs! It's other stuff, too! Like—" Geiszler lets out a long, angry huff of air, and actually balls his fists up at his sides. Hermann has never seen him so incensed, not even when he accused Hermann of being an alien himself during a council meeting last summer. "Look, just come to my house and I'll fuckin' show you. Or are you that afraid of being—I don’t know, proven wrong?"

Part of Hermann is convinced that if he follows Geiszler out to his isolated cabin in the middle of the woods, it'll be the last thing he ever does. At the very least, he certainly has no desire to spend more time with Geiszler than he's already forced to. Yet—on the other hand—Hermann does not appreciate the challenge, nor does he appreciate being made to look like a fool by the man who chairs the local paranormal society. "Fine," he snaps, and Geiszler startles in obvious surprise. "Fine, you wretched little man. I’ll let you show me whatever proof you think you may have, so long as you take every single one of those signs down."

"Um," Geiszler squeaks. He clears his throat. "D—deal?"

Hermann seizes his cane and thrusts his chair back under his table roughly. "Well?" he says to the rest of the hall, none of whom have budged since Geiszler began shouting his head off. He scowls at the lot of them. "The meeting is over. You can leave."

It's Hermann's job to shut down the building each week, so he waits for the very last stragglers to toss out their paper water cups, shrug on their raincoats, and file outside before switching off the lights and locking up. He finds Geiszler lurking by a rather worse-for-wear green VW Beetle at the curb, the hood of his raincoat flipped back up over his hair. Hermann desperately hopes that the car isn't Geiszler’s. He is Hermann’s ride home tonight, after all. "I took the signs down," Geiszler says in a rush. "All of the ones around here, anyway. I'll have to do the rest tomorrow." He jerks his thumb at the backseat of the Beetle, where Hermann sees a haphazard pile of some of the 3 ALIEN ABDUCTIONS signs. His heart sinks. The X-Files bumper stickers should've been a dead giveaway, really.

"Thank you," Hermann sighs. "Well, let's get this over with."

"The heat is busted, so you might wanna leave your coat on," Geiszler says apologetically when Hermann manages to squish himself into the passenger's seat. The floor is a sea of empty Dunkin' Donuts cups, stacks of pulp science (or, if Hermann were to be less kind, pseudoscientific) magazines spanning back at least half a decade, and a pin-littered linen tote bag filled to the brim with boxed Annie's macaroni and cheese.

"Uh, sorry," Geiszler says. "I had to run some errands earlier. You can just—toss that in the back. Yeah."

The ride is short but bumpy, and though the removal of Geiszler's shopping bag offers Hermann more leg room, there is nothing that can make up for his tragically awful driving and his tragically awful CD collection. Hermann almost bolts from the car when they finally pull up at Geiszler's ivy-shrouded cabin, so relieved to have made it there in one piece that he's all but forgotten that he must now spend the rest of the evening with Geiszler, too. He remembers soon enough: another duo of aggressive signs have been pounded into Geiszler's mossy front path, TURN BACK NOW - ALIEN ABDUCTION ZONE, and a rather good sketch of Hermann beneath WHAT ARE THOSE CHEEKBONES HIDING? "That one's from the summer," Geiszler says sheepishly, kicking down the latter with the toe of his boot. "I keep forgetting to take it down. I don't still think you're an alien, by the way."

"Er, thank you," Hermann says. "I suppose?"

"They wouldn't be that obvious," Geiszler says, emphasizing the they with a meaningful glance up at the night sky.

"Of course not," Hermann says.

He's not quite sure what he expected Geiszler's house to look like. Some sort of—conspiracy nutter's den, perhaps, with aluminum foil hats and deconstructed radios and elaborate photoboards full of thumbtacks and red string. Or the interior of his car on a larger scale, with empty takeout containers and crumpled up papers on every surface. He's...sort of right. There's a noticeable lack of tinhats, but there are plenty of (modestly-sized) corkboards on the walls and multiple coffee cups peeking out of a recycling bin. The rest is merely precisely what Hermann would expect from an academic in his 30s: books, and mis-matching furniture, and a sink of dishes begging to be washed. It's...a bit disappointing, frankly. Though Hermann is rather impressed with the sleek telescope angled in front of the back slider door. Impressed, and envious. It's a very nice model.

"Make yourself at home," Geiszler says, unzipping his voluminous raincoat and tossing it, along with Hermann's, over the back of a worn armchair. He's wearing a pair of torn skinny jeans and a band t-shirt that reveals his heavily tattooed, and deceptively shapely, arms. Hermann tears his eyes away and forces himself to sit down at one end of Geiszler's couch. "I'm gonna make us some coffee. Do you want any sugar or non-dairy creamer?"

"No, thank you," Hermann says. "I don't drink coffee this late. It'll keep me up all night."

"Well, I hope so, that's kinda the plan,” Geiszler says. He rolls his eyes. “The aliens never come before at least midnight. Soy milk or almond milk?"

Hermann thinks, briefly and longingly, of his nice warm bed, the blanket he intended to toss in the dryer, and the herbal tea he won't be having after all. "Almond milk?" he hazards.

Geiszler stares at him in evident disgust. "Dude, I was kidding. You know how bad that shit is for the environment? It takes, like, a fuckin' thousand gallons of water or something like that for one carton of almond milk. It's insane. I mean, I guess it's still less water than what dairy needs, but there are plenty of better options."

"Oh," Hermann says. Hermann drinks skim milk. "I'm sorry. Er. Soy milk?"

As Geiszler fixes them mugs, Hermann begins to poke around some papers scattered across the coffee table. One is a list of names and dates, seemingly random, Hermann thinks, until he recognizes (scrawled in purple ink at the very bottom of the page) that of the gentleman who disappeared from his back porch just down Hermann's street. When he recognizes another—a teenager who worked as a barista at Hermann’s favorite coffee shop—he realizes it must be everyone who's vanished from town in the past year. Another paper has the same dates repeated, though not alongside any names—rather, bizarre little phrases like circling lights and that sound again. "You found my notes," Geiszler says cryptically, and then thrusts a mug out to Hermann.

Hermann takes the mug. A logo on the side tells Hermann it was from some academic conference in California ten years ago. "What are they supposed to mean?" he says.

Geiszler snorts. "Uh, I thought it was kind of obvious. Look—" He sits next to Hermann, far too close, and points at the column of numbers on the first page. "These are the dates when people have been reported missing," he says, and then scans his finger over to the second page, "and these are the dates when I've observed extraterrestrial—or at least, unexplainable—activity overhead. See how they match up almost perfectly?

"Mm," Hermann says. He does not. "So—if I am to understand you correctly—you believe that a, ah," he takes the page back from Geiszler, "a 'weird swoopy sound' from overhead had something to do with that poor young woman disappearing from a bus stop last week?”

"It wasn't just a weird noise!" Geiszler exclaims. "I showed you the pictures. I ran outside when I heard it, and thank fuck I had my camera, because I caught those lights just as they were leaving. And then what do I find out the next morning? There was another abduction, at almost the exact same time I saw the lights!"

"Ten miles from here," Hermann reminds him. "It would've had to have been a bloody fast ship."

"Yeah, no shit, Hermann," Geiszler says. "They're, like, fucking—mega-advanced lifeforms. They probably have the tech to vaporize the entire Earth if they wanted. Of course it was a fast ship.”

Geiszler is still sitting awfully close to Hermann. He runs very warm, unlike Hermann, warm enough to make Hermann warm too—like a scruffy, tattooed, freckled furnace. Yes, freckled, for Geiszler has the lightest dusting of freckles across his round chipmunk-like cheeks that Hermann finds inexplicably charming. He wonders if Geiszler would notice him loosen his collar a bit, perhaps take off his sweater. He really is getting quite warm. "So, I was saying," Geiszler continues, and though he speaks almost directly into Hermann's ear, he sounds as if he's a mile away from him. "Waitress at bus stop—weird lights over my cabin—waitress gone from bus stop. The proof is, like, undeniable!"

"Indeed," Hermann says.

He undoes the top button of his collar. He hasn't touched his coffee yet—he wonders if Geiszler even cares. The tattoo on Geiszler’s bicep, some sort of space tentacle monster, stares back at Hermann. "I'm telling you, man," Geiszler says, "this is no joke. They're taking people, maybe even for good."

They're gonna come for you, just like they did for me. When Geiszler began spouting nonsense about aliens last year, he was not booted from the biology department right away. Mostly everyone at the college, Hermann knows, tolerated his eccentricities on account of his admittedly brilliant mind and popularity among the students. The final straw came when Geiszler's extraterrestrial delusions (for what else could they be?) reached a new level: he showed up to campus in his pajamas one morning, raving that the aliens were not only zooming about over his house, but had actually abducted him the previous evening. "You seemed to fare alright, though, didn't you?" Hermann says. "When you were—ah—taken? They even dropped you back off in time for work. Quite courteous, I should think."

"That's—" Geiszler begins to shake his leg up and down, nervous energy radiating up his body and through Hermann's. He spills some of his coffee on the carpet. "That was—that was dumb. I got lucky. I think I was one of the first ones, you know? Because the disappearances didn't really get bad until, like, a month after that? I was in bed—and, and it wasn't like how it is in movies, I wasn't sucked up in a giant beam of light or anything like that, one minute I was there and then the next I wasn't, I was somewhere...else. And—uh. I don't really remember what they looked like. I tried to—sketch them out, but it was like trying to remember a dream, all the specific details about them just faded once it was over. But, um." He rubs the back of his neck, and Hermann is surprised to see him blushing. "Well, if I'm being honest, I think I kinda freaked them out."

Hermann can't help but snort. "You what?"

"I'm serious!" Geiszler shrieks. "I freaked them out. I was just really excited about it all. Like, dude, come on, I was abducted by aliens. How fucking cool is that? I just kept asking a bunch of questions, like, are you gonna probe me? are you gonna take me back to Mars or Jupiter or, like, I don't know, fucking Gallifrey? do you even understand what I'm saying, how do you communicate? and then the next thing I knew, I was landing on my ass in the school parking lot. They must've been observing me like I was observing them, like, they maybe knew I worked there? Anyway—" He shakes his head. "I tell you what, I'm real glad I decided to not just wear boxers like usual to bed that night. That would've been really embarrassing."

Bombarded with the sudden mental image of what Geiszler usually looks like in bed, Hermann (feeling rather warm again) tugs at his collar and clears his throat. He has certainly seen more than enough for the night, and if his mind is straying to something as prosaic as what does Dr. Geiszler look like half-naked?, it likely means it’s time for bed. "Er, right. Dr. Geiszler—"

"Just call me Newt, man," Geiszler says.

"Newton," Hermann concedes. It gives him a private little thrill. No one calls Newton Newton; it’s always either Newt or Dr. Geiszler. "Newton,” he says again, “this has been a very—illuminating—evening, but it's getting rather late, and I think you ought to drive me home before—"

And then Newton begins to take off his shirt.

Yes, a small part of Hermann's brain whispers traitorously, yes, yes, yes, even as Hermann recoils and stammers out, "Newton, what—?!"

"Oh, calm down, I'm not coming onto you," Newton says. He drops his t-shirt on the floor and jabs a thumb at his chest. His bare chest. "See, look. Proof."

Hermann's not sure what he's meant to be looking at. The giant Godzilla tattooed over Newton's pectorals? The flying saucer tattooed above Newton’s belly button? Newton’s nipple piercings? Hermann thinks he understands what an overheating computer feels like, an influx of too much information with processors unequipped to handle it. "I," he says. Newton’s belly button is not pierced. Hermann’s not sure why he thought it would be.

"Look at my chest, dude!" Newton says, tapping his skin insistently.

It takes Hermann a great deal of effort to pull his eyes away from the nipple piercings. In the dead center of Newton's chest, spaced perfectly between his pectorals and right over the nostrils of Godzilla, is a strange, almost luminescent glyph of a language Hermann can't begin to recognize. It's raised from Newton's skin, more like a brand than a tattoo. And...well, when Hermann says luminescent, he really means it. The squiggle seems to glow blue. "This was on me the next morning," Newton says. "I think they marked me. Like you'd tag a lab rat?”

Hermann can't help himself: he reaches out and touches the mark. "Strange," he murmurs. Compared to the heat of Newton’s body, the glyph is quite cool. Frigid, in fact, like metal, and yet as soft as the rest of his skin.

He's close enough to Newton to hear the hitch in his breath when they make contact, and as he traces his fingertips over the glyph, he can feel Newton's heart pounding beneath them. Strange, indeed; Newton has been such a thorn in his side for so many months, and yet all Hermann wants to do now is touch even more of him. He trails his hand lower, down to the flying saucer on Newton's soft abdomen. Newton inhales sharply. "Um," he says. "Should—should I put my shirt back on?"

"Do you want to?" Hermann says.

"Not really," Newton says.

He stares at Hermann, eyebrows knit together behind his glasses, like he can't seem to make sense of him. His confusion is very much warranted; Hermann can’t seem to make sense of himself right now, either. Then, to Hermann's supreme annoyance, the pieces seem to click into place in Newton's mind, and he grins. "Oh, duh," he says. "No wonder. You wanna fuck me, don't you? That’s why you’re so obsessed with me.”

That would certainly explain the strange warm feeling that comes over Hermann sometimes when he thinks about Newton in the dead of night that he has, up until this very moment, attributed to bouts of temporary insanity and/or a latent murderous desire. Nothing so dramatic as all that, then—just regular human biology. Urgh. How disgusting. And for Newton, of all people. “Obsessed with you?” Hermann sniffs, desperate to retain some element of propriety even while he begins to tug at Newton’s button fly. “Newton, you have spent thousands of dollars on yard signs just to invite me over for a coffee.”

“Uh, yeah, and it worked,” Newton says.

He curls his fingers in the front of Hermann's sweater, thumbing over one of the buttons.

“Even when I thought you were an alien,” Newton says, “I still kiiiiinda wanted to fuck you.”

Delusional or not, Newton looks terrifically good with a beard.

"Wait," Hermann gasps some time later. "Newton, stop a moment—"

Newton pulls away from him, frowning. He pushes his glasses back up on his nose. "What is it?" he says. "Did I hurt—?"

But Hermann pats at his shoulder frantically, pointing beyond him at the back slider and the dark of the forest beyond that. Newton cranes his neck around. "Only I'm sure I saw something. Lights, or…” Hermann feels a small twinge of embarrassment. The night is dead silent, and dead still. “Well, now I'm not sure."

“You probably imagined it," Newton says. He slips back down to press a kiss at Hermann's jaw. “It’s too early to be them.”

Not even ten yet. Newton kisses behind Hermann’s ear. It feels very nice. "Yes," Hermann agrees slowly, his eyelids flickering shut. He smooths his hand up and down Newton’s back. "Yes, I suppose you're right." Newton’s stories must have left him on edge. Which is of course ridiculous, because they’re all a load of rubbish—there may be extraterrestrials somewhere out there in the great wide universe, but they’re certainly not swooping down and plucking up hapless test subjects from Earth, let alone their small town, every other day. Hermann has much more important things to concern himself with right now, like how it feels when he threads his fingers in the soft strands of Newton’s hair, or the sound Newton makes when Hermann digs his nails into his skin, or how wonderful kissing Newton is...

And, unobserved by both of them, the three lights hovering above Newton's cabin blink away as quickly as they'd come.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag

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