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skythesnake · 4 months

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Fury of Nations - Chapter Four

Previous Chapter: 3

Chapter One: 1

Next Chapter: 5

Chapter 4

“For Fijar’s sake, Dilan!” I turned to see Talyn yelling at Dilan again. The two of them really needed to be able to train together sometimes, but every time I left them unattended, Talyn ended up yelling at Dilan for something or other.

“I cannot work with you, you are a dreadful fighter.” He continued. Dilan didn’t respond, he just stood there staring at Talyn as if he could see into his soul. I’d been on the receiving end of one of those stares and it was genuinely unsettling. Talyn stood glaring at Dilan and I hoped he’d give it up for a minute, but instead he just continued to berate him. I sighed and left Ta’eel to walk over.

“Stop it, both of you!” I commanded when I reached them. Dilan looked at me with a startled expression and Talyn turned his glare on me, but didn’t say anything,

“Talyn, Dilan is not a dreadful fighter, he is a good fighter. He just does not meet your expectations because they are excessively high. Dilan,” I turned to face him, “You really need to stop just staring at people when they pick a fight with you. It only makes them angrier and unless you are staring down a… a Hidalni or something, you are not menacing enough to keep them from messing with you further.” I stared down at the both of them disapprovingly.

“Why do not you both take a break. Ta’eel?” I called over my shoulder at the Tashikan who I had now seen fight first hand, “why do not you train Dilan when he is ready? Talyn, how are your long-range skills?” I asked. He gave me a look.

“How do you think? Top marks, just like close-range combat.”

“Perfect, then you can teach me how to better my aim in throwing knives and axes when you are done with your break. If Shinael is back, you can teach the both of us, or maybe I will send them in to train with Ta’eel and Dilan, we will see what they are up to.” Talyn nodded and walked over to go get water.

“Dilan? I said it before, but you really do have to get the staring under control. Everyone communicates in different ways, but there are some ways that just are not good.” He nodded at me and sighed.

“I know. It’s been a problem my whole life. I don’t really know what else to do though.” I paused, wondering if an offer from me would be too strange.

“Maybe… If you want to sometime, I can teach you some basics? I am not a master communicator myself, but I can give you pointers on some of the more obvious things you do.” He smiled at me and nodded.

“Sure. At this point, I think anything’ll help.” He laughed and wandered over to get some water. Ta’eel bumped my elbow with hers and winked at me as she passed. Other cultures non-verbal communications will always be a mystery. Was it simply a playful wink that meant ‘hello my friend’, or was she teasing me about something? I hadn’t studied Tashikan body language yet, but maybe I should do that tonight. I had another trip to the library scheduled tonight so I could return some of the books I’d borrowed. Perhaps I’d bring Dilan with me. He did mention something about mythology books. I’d be interested to hear his favorite myths and perhaps start with those.

I sighed as Ta’eel gave me a smile I could tell was forced for the umpteenth time. Since Kishan and Talyn had left to practice at the ranges, Ta’eel had been training me. She was so much more patient than Talyn was, but I just wasn’t getting it like I knew she wanted me to. She paused and looked up at the sky.

“It’s getting late and most people have left. If you want to continue we can, but I don’t know that more training right now is going to help. You’re good, but I can tell you’re frustrated now and training while angry doesn’t help you learn.” I nodded and she made is if to walk away but then paused, blinked a few times, and then continued towards the weapons rack to put her borrowed sword away. I narrowed my eyes at her slightly, trying to discern what that might have been. I have the ability to see what I call ‘aura’s’. They tell me a lot about a person, including their race, sense of purpose in life, gender, and current emotion. However, Ta’eel’s aura was strange. Her emotions, which are usually arranged in categories at a person’s head, shoulders and stomach, seemed all mixed up. Sometimes happiness would show in her head, then her left shoulder. Sometimes anger and happiness might show in the exact same place. On top of that her aura was a strange color that I hadn’t seen before. Tashikan auras were usually a teal/cyan color, depending on their sense of purpose in life. But Ta’eel’s was mostly black, with occasional swirls of dark blue. In moments like that, where she seemed slightly out of focus, the blue swirls would overwhelm the black for a flash of a moment before retreating entirely for a little. I didn’t know what it meant, but to be honest, it scared me a little. Kishan and Talyn walked towards us, evidently of the same mind as we were.

“Time to go start a campfire, the sky’s getting dark. Shinael showed up a little while ago, but they were tired from specialized training, so I sent them back to camp to rest.” Kishan said. Ta’eel and Kishan ascended the stairs chatting about various things while Talyn packed up his personal weapons. I hesitated for a moment, wanting to say something, but I didn’t know what I should say. After a second or two, I headed up the stairs too. I was about halfway up when Talyn shouldered past me, but then shook his head and stumbled back, nearly falling.

“Talyn? Are you alright?” I asked, worried he might have tripped. He looked wildly alarmed and stared at me blankly before shaking his head again and shoving my shoulder aside.

“I’m fine.” He growled. He didn’t seem ‘fine’ to me, but I knew better than to contradict him. I’d tell Kishan about it later and they could talk to him about it. A worry flickered in the back of my mind. An old memory about a boy I liked when I was much younger. The first and last time he kissed me, he had gotten a glimpse of my power. That was the last time he talked to me. Had that happened with Talyn just now, did his hand brush mine as he walked past me? Most people weren’t able to see what I did just by touching me and I didn’t understand why some could. I pushed that aside for now, I couldn’t afford to worry about that too. I walked up the stairs and caught up with Kishan and Ta’eel. Walking to the cabin circle, Talyn had apparently shut himself in his cabin already, having speed walked back and Shinael had a fire going.

‘__ __ alright?’ Shinael asked. I only recognized the last sign they made and I let Kishan answer, assuming Shinael was inquiring about Talyn. Kishan and Shinael talked in sign for a little before Ta’eel settled down by the fire and kicked her feet up on what would have been Talyn’s chair.

“Does anyone want to go get food for the lot of us? I can if no one else wants to, or we can all serve ourselves, either way works for me.” She said. Shinael offered to go get some food for us and they came back with five plates.

“I am to go give Talyn his food. Although acting strange, Talyn needs food.” They said over their shoulder as they walked away. I’d been startled the first time I heard them speak. They were only a little shorter than Talyn, and however slimly built, I still wasn’t expecting a soft, high pitched voice from them. Apparently all Vishali had higher pitched voices, and most were soft spoken whenever they chose to speak out loud, but it still felt a little strange.

“Alright. If he attacks you, yell for help. No point in trying to save an ego.” Ta’eel joked. Shinael didn’t respond and I sat back and watched the fire as I ate. Eventually, Kishan stood up, explaining that they were going to the library to return a few books. There was an odd pause before they left where it seemed as if they wanted to say something, but they didn’t. I let myself watch them walk away, shame and disappointment glimmering in the section at their right shoulder.

#writing #original writing #queer writers #creative writing

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love-and-other-potions · 2 years

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Teach Me Your Love

Draco x Reader x Harry

You grunt in annoyance as you shift on the Hospital Wing cot. You plop onto your back, and your gaze falls on the ceiling tiles. Once again, you count them as you listen to Madam Pomfrey shuffling around somewhere. Your arm begins to itch, and you sigh because you can't get to the limb that is uncomfortably sitting in a cast. Your ears perk as you begin to hear voices become closer, and the knob turns.

Your best friend and one of their friends walk through the door. BF/N [best friend's name] grins at you, and you scowl in return.

"Well, look at the talk of the school. You simply look ravishing!" they exclaim.

You stick your tongue out. BF/N's guest interrupts your glare.

"How did you do it anyways? There are a lot of rumors going around. Someone said that you tried arm-wrestling the squid. Others have said that he caught you going through his porn collection, and punished you accordingly. There have been other disgusting rumors, but I better not say them within hearing range of Madam Pomfrey."

"Thank you, dear!" the nurse yells from another section in the room.

BF/N smirks. "Yeah, Y/N, why don't you tell them how you actually broke your arm?"

You flip them off, and they turn to their friend. "Y/N here was so excited that they fell down the stairs."

"What? Really? What were they so excited for?"

BF/N raises an eyebrow at you.

"Breakfast," you mutter.

The friend laughs. "You were so excited for breakfast that you tripped down the staircase?"

You pout like a petulant child. "I like food, okay?"

They laugh at you again, except BF/N joins this time.

"If you came here just to laugh at me, then you can leave now."

They sober their expressions.

"Actually, I came to tell you that for your three major classes, you were assigned tutors because you have to stay in the Hospital Wing. How long do you have to stay in here?"

You roll your eyes. "Madam Pomfrey wants me to stay in here for a couple more days to make sure nothing more tragic happens to me. Like me tripping again, for example. Who are my tutors?"

"I am your tutor for Charms." They give a dramatic bow. "For Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry Potter is tutoring you. For Potions, Draco Malfoy is tutoring you."

You jerk upright in your cot. "Wait, what?"

BF/N grins. "Yes, that's right. You somehow landed yourself on Merlin's reward list, and you have tutoring sessions with the two pretty boys of the school."

You screech as your now only free hand flies to your face. "But I'm awkward! I'll make myself look like an idiot!"

BF/N looks at you incredulously. "Two attractive men get to tutor you and that's what you're worried about?"

"Well, yeah! Attractive men plus Y/N equal awkward stuttering and complete mess! What's the point of being with hot guys if I freak out?"

They wave their hand dismissively. "You're being overdramatic. You'll be fine."

You grimace anxiously. "I hope so."

A couple of hours later, there is a knock on the Hospital Wing door. You hear Madam Pomfrey shuffle over and open the door.

"Hey Madam Pomfrey. I'm, uhm, looking for Y/N L/N?"

It was supposed to be a statement, but it sounded so unsure that it became a question.

"Right this way, Mr. Potter."

Two sets of footsteps begin to make their path to your bed. You hurriedly smooth your hair and right your clothes. A moment later, your curtains shift aside to reveal the nurse and your tutor. When Harry's eyes land on you, his cheeks turn pink. Madam Pomfrey closes the curtains to give you two privacy.

You smile awkwardly. "Hello Harry."

Somehow his cheeks morph into a darker shade of pink. "Hi Y/N. How's your arm?"

"Shattered. In pain. But I'm doing great!" You give him a thumbs up with your good hand.

He smiles slightly. "Glad to hear it, even though it's lies laced with sarcasm."

You grin. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Like an open book. Speaking of which."

He reaches into his bag, pulls out a textbook, and lies it on your bed.

"Until you get your book down here, you can borrow mine."

"Thank you, Harry."

He looks away. "No problem," he mumbles before clearing his throat. "Now, the lessons aren't hard necessarily. It just takes thought. I'm sure you'll do fine."

You groan in despair. "You think that I'm a thinker? I broke my arm from falling down the stairs because I thought I was late for breakfast!"

Harry begins to laugh but sobers slightly at your glare. "It's not funny," you complain.

"It kind of is," he counters.

"I want a different tutor. All you're teaching me to do is hate myself even more than I already do."

"That's a little harsh," he says as he sits in the chair next to the bed. You wave your hand towards the chair.

"Please, make yourself at home."

He grins as he opens the textbook and begins to explain the lesson. About 45 minutes later, he closes the textbook.

"No, no, don't stop. I was almost asleep."

He mock-glares at you. "Has anyone ever told you that you are kind of mean?"

"No."

He raises an eyebrow as if this is a complete shock. You shrug.

"Normally they leave out the 'kind of.' "

He laughs. "Am I your only tutor?"

"No. BF/N is tutoring me in Charms, and Draco Malfoy is tutoring me in Potions."

A shadow passes over his face. "Malfoy?" he asks in a strangely hollow voice.

You quirk a brow but reply nonetheless. "Yes. I'm not so great at Potions to begin with, so I probably would have ended up with a tutor even without an injury."

He smiles absentmindedly, as if he heard your joke but didn't find it all that funny. He stands and collects his bag.

"I hope your arm feels better and that you sleep well while you stay in here. I'll be back to teach you things."

To your surprise, he winks before he turns and leaves. Your mouth falls open and a flush overtakes your face as the door clicks shut behind him.

Approximately an hour later, the door opens again. You look up from skimming Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook to see Draco Malfoy stroll through the door as if he owned the place. You close the book and lay it to the side as you sit upright. His grey eyes scan the room and land on you with your curtain open. He smirks once his eyes lock with yours. Your heart begins to gallop as he makes his way to your bed.

"Y/N L/N," he greets as he closes the curtain behind him.

This boy has never spoken to you, yet he says your name with such familiarity. You don't trust yourself to speak at this moment, so you smile awkwardly and give a little wave. The Malfoy smirk appears on his lips as he sits down in the chair that Harry had occupied only an hour earlier.

You watch mutely as he pulls out his textbook and his wand. He sets both on the bed before reaching under the bed and pulls the dinner tray out. He unfolds it between you two. He waves his wand over the bare table and a mini-cauldron with a hotplate underneath it appears. He begins pulling ingredients from his bag and arranges them around the cauldron. Once he's satisfied with his placings, his cool grey eyes meet yours. Without intending to, you drop your gaze.

He begins to speak lowly, and his drawl is very evident. "Once Potions is understood, one can easily become a master. Several make the mistake of assuming that Potion-making is similar to cooking a meal. That is not true. I can concoct a Draught of Living Death, yet I cannot prepare a simple meal."

You look back up at him to see that he is grinning crookedly at you. You slowly smile back.

"I can't cook either, but I love food."

"Ah, the irony."

Your grin spreads further. "Yes, I've noticed that. My broken arm is actually a result of my love for food."

He raises an eyebrow. "How is that? Did a Treacle Tart break your arm for trying to eat it?"

You laugh. "Definitely not, but I wish the story was as great as that. I thought I was late for breakfast and in my rush, I tripped down a staircase."

There's silence, as if he's waiting for you to tell him that you're joking. Once he realizes that you're not rushing to say, "Psych!", he looks at you with a stunned expression.

"You tripped down the stairs and broke your arm because you were panicked at the thought of missing food?"

"Stop judging me," you playfully whine.

He looks at you even more incredulously. "I'm a Slytherin. It's my job to judge."

"Well, you're fired," you mumble.

He feigns a wounded expression. "I am well qualified for my job, thank you. You have no grounds to fire me."

"My hurt feelings say otherwise."

His hurt expression morphs into a grin. "You're sassy. I like it."

You flush again. "So... uh... Potions?" you prompt.

He blinks at you. "Right. As I was saying, Potions is nothing like cooking. While cooking, you are able to improvise and may add a random ingredient if desired. That is not acceptable in Potions. Improvising ingredients into a Potion may cause an explosion or worse..."

He supervised as you made a simple Potion, although he helped you when needed. A couple hours later, he begins to repack his things.

"Did my tutoring help you at all?" he inquires.

"Oh yes. So far, you haven't called me a daft, incompetent excuse for a student as the original teacher has done."

"Not yet," he agrees.

You stick your tongue out at him.

"Who else is tutoring you as you reside in these luxurious quarters?"

You smile. "BF/N is tutoring me in Charms, and Harry Potter is tutoring me in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

He pauses his hands. "Potter?" he says with his voice devoid of emotion.

Your brows furrow as you nod. "Yes. I've been told that he's top of the class in DADA."

You watch in confusion as Draco sets his jaw. "I'm sure he is," he mutters.

He stands and throws his bag over his shoulder. He gives you a charming grin.

"I'll be seeing you again. Count on it." He winks as he leaves.

You sigh and sink your head into your pillow. You have survived being in the presence of two gorgeous men without making a complete mess of yourself.

***********************************

For the next few days, both boys make frequent visitations. They've even shown up to chat without the excuse of tutoring, although they never appeared together. Every time one of the boys have talked to you, they have asked about the other in their peculiar emotionless voice that baffles you. Each time you answer the question asked of you, they have made a snide comment about the other to you. Harry's comments were politer in nature, although his were more aggressive. Draco's were witty but said in complete arrogance.

But all in all, you enjoyed both of their company. You've been able to get comfortable, so you're not quite as awkward. Harry and Draco are polar opposites in their personalities though. Draco's jokes are witty and are funny but only if you understand them. He is slightly awkward but is suave enough to fake confidence to pull it off. Harry, on the other hand, was completely awkward and owned it. He didn't pretend to know everything and that fact added to his charm. Harry oozed warmth, and Draco had a cold exterior.

Both boys cared enough to ask how your day was every time when seeing you. Harry nods in understanding while Draco nods intently, as if soaking up every detail for future use. Both boys made sure you were situated in a relaxing way and made sure your arm was comfortable before beginning to tutor or having a conversation with you. But both boys had charisma, and this charisma was beginning to melt your heart.

*************************************

That night, you are woken up by angry whispering at the end of your bed. You recognized the voices as you squint your eyes open. Draco and Harry are at the end of your bed whisper-yelling into each other's faces, but your sleep-dazed brain can't figure out what they're saying.

"Harry? Draco?"

Both of them freeze and turn to you. They both shove something behind their backs, oddly enough.

"Y/N! uhm, hey! How were your dreams?" Harry inquires. He has a slightly panicked tone, as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

You rub your eyes as you sit up. "I don't know. I would tell you if I could get some fucking sleep around here."

You watch as the shadow of his head falls in shame.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"Yeah, Potter. See what you did?"

You grab your wand and illuminate it with a hushed, "Lumos," just in time to see Harry glare at Draco.

"Me? You're just as guilty as I am, Malfoy!"

You lay your wand on the table next to your bed. "Yes, yes, you're both guilty. Now explains why the guilty means," you glance down at you watch, "waking me up at 3 am in the morning."

You raise an eyebrow, and the raven-haired and blond boy actually look ashamed.

"Well?" you question.

Draco clears his throat as he steps forward. "I came to leave you a gift, but someone had the same idea as I did."

He glares at Harry as you furrow your brows. "You're in my room at 3 am because you wanted to give me a present?"

They nod sheepishly, and you slowly exhale.

"Alright. Let's see the gifts."

Draco pulls his arm from behind his back to reveal an expensive box of chocolates. You blink in astonishment as he lays it on your bed. Harry steps forward and offers you a bag as well. Inside the bag is a dozen of assorted candies- Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizbees, and tons of others. Attached to each candy is a note reading punny or sweet pick-up lines or compliment to do with the candy. For example, one of the Chocolate Frogs say, "You're as sweet as chocolate." Your hand flies to your mouth in shock as you survey their kindess.

"So," you clear your throat. "You sneaked in to put me in a sugar coma why?"

Both boys blush but because of their differing skin tones, Harry turns red while Draco turns pink.

Harry becomes suddenly interested in his shoes as he answers. "Uhm, we both wanted to leave you a token of our affection."

"Affections?" you squeak.

"Yes Y/N. We both wanted to leave you a token of our affection, but I honestly didn't expect Potter to be here as well. We began to have a disagreement as to whom you may be interested in and then you interrupted us," Draco supplies.

"Let me get this straight: you both are interested in me so you brought me a gift. Once seeing the other, you decided to argue about me over my sleeping body. Did I miss anything?"

They shake their heads.

"Alright." You sigh as you lay the gifts on the table next to you and lay back down. "Goodnight," you mutter as you close your eyes.

"What?" Harry asks incredulously.

"You can't leave us like this!" Draco exclaims.

You sit up angrily and slam your good hand on the bed. "Why not? I was just woken up at 3 am from the man I like and the other's been tutoring me! I am going to go back to sleep. Goodnight!"

You glare at them while they look at you in shock.

"Uhm, which one do you like?" Harry asks.

You groan as you shove your balled-up fist into your eyes.

"When I say who, the other one will hate me. I can't deal with that."

There's a long silence.

"Y/N, if you choose Draco, I won't hate you. If you're happy with him, I'll let you be happy."

You feel a tear escape past your fist and trail down your face as one of them clears their throat.

"Y/N, same here. If you choose Potter, I won't resent you."

You take a deep breath and loosen your fists. You look at both men through glossy eyes. You wipe your cheeks before destroying one of these boy's affections towards you.

If you choose Harry:

You mutter something under your breath.

"Excuse me?" Draco asks.

You take a deep inhale. "I said Harry."

You make the mistake of looking at Draco as you said this. His face falls and unmistakable pain spreads throughout his grey eyes. A moment later, he clenches his jaw, and his face becomes blank. He nods curtly.

"It looks as if I am unwanted here." He turns on his heel and leaves.

You lean back onto your pillow and let your eyes roll towards the ceiling.

"If I was in shape, I would kick your ass," you inform Harry.

He chuckles lightly. "Whatever for?"

You throw your arms up in disbelief. "For showing up at my hospital cot to declare your affections for me at three in the morning. I need sleep just as much as I need my food!"

He raises an eyebrow. "You're complaining because I brought you candy?"

"At 3 a.m.? Yes."

"You weren't supposed to wake up, Draco wasn't supposed to be here, and you weren't supposed to get upset and have to choose between us."

"But it happened."

He sits on the side of your bed and takes your hands in his. "Y/N, I'm sorry that this upset you. I'm sorry that Malfoy and I woke you up at 3 in the morning. I'm sorry you had to make a hard decision this early in the morning, but I am in now way sorry that I decided to come here today because you chose me."

You smile as a tear slides down your cheek. "Yes, I did. Now I choose for you to kiss me."

He grins. "I exist to serve."

He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You two jump apart as your curtain is thrown back. Madam Pomfrey stands there looking angry with curlers in her hair and her hands pressed firmly on her hips.

"Mr. Potter, give me one good reason why I shouldn't go wake Professor McGonagall at this moment."

You glance at Harry anxiously before getting an idea. You grab the expensive chocolates, lean in, and hand her the box.

"Because you love me?"

She scowls as she takes the box and examines it further. Her face lights up as she realizes what it is. She lifts her head and narrows her eyes.

"Mr. Potter, you better keep up appearances. You best leave early and make it look like you came back a different day. Understand?"

He nods as she glances down at the chocolates.

"Goodnight." She pulls the curtain shut once more.

Harry sighs in relief. "That was close."

You smile as you lift up your blanket with your good hand and motion for him to climb in. He grins as he settles in. He lays his head on your pillow, and you lay your head on his chest.

"Goodnight, Harry. I'm glad I chose you," you whisper as you close your eyes. You feel Harry take off his glasses and lay them on the table.

"Me too, Y/N," he replies as his hand begins to caress your hair.

You smile sleepily and whisper, "Nox." The room shifts into darkness.

If you choose Draco:

You catch Draco's eye and notice that his mercury eyes are alive with hope. You nod at him as you lift your hand silently and point at Draco. A grin appears on his face as he realizes that you chose him.

"Well" Harry interrupts. "If there's one thing that I'm good at, it's knowing where I'm not wanted." Harry's face reads of immense pain, but he puts on a brave face and leaves.

You shift on your pillow and look at the ceiling. "I'm not saying anything," you inform him.

He comes around the bed and sits on the edge of it. "That's okay. I have plenty to say, so you can just listen."

You shift your gaze from the ceiling to his face to see his mercury eyes are already locked on your face.

"I've heard of you for so long. I've heard of your spunk, of your sense of humor, and of your love of your food. I do admit that I thought they were overexaggerating the food one."

You smile at him as he continues.

"But when Snape asked for people to tutor, there were several other volunteers. I recognized this as my chance, so I met with Snape after class and convinced him to let me tutor you. I mean, there's no one more qualified to tutor you in Potions other than Snape himself. He allowed me to, so I did. I came and saw how unique of an individual you are, and I realized that I wanted you to be mine, and I wanted to be yours. I honestly don't know what I would have done if you hadn't chosen me, but I'm so glad that I don't have to find out."

You smile at him warmly. "I'm glad I chose you, Draco." He smirks in response.

Your curtain is suddenly pulled back to reveal Madam Pomfrey the angriest you've ever seen her as she stands there in her bath robe and fuzzy slippers.

"Mr. Malfoy, you either get in that cot and go to sleep, or you leave this instant!"

Draco nods and scampers under the covers with you. She gives one last glare and shuts the curtains.

"Nox," you whisper as you try to hide your laugh.

"I'm surprised she let me stay," Draco mummers.

"I'm not. I've grown on dear ol' Poppy. She loves me!"

"Do I have competition?"

"Oh definitely. You're already losing."

He mock gasps. You laugh and snuggle into his chest.

"Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

As you close your eyes, you feel his warm lips press against your forehead. You smile to yourself as you drift off to sleep.

#draco malfoy #harry james potter #draco x reader #harry james potter x reader #love triangle

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awesomerextyphoon · 3 years

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Speculum Cupido

Summary: You’ve been Dr. Strange’s apprentice for some time now and you wanted to prove your best friend wrong. It goes awry and both of you find yourselves in a ‘dark mirror’ universe where the Captain, the Asset, the Kraken, and the Fallen Angel want to make both of you theirs.

Pairing: Dark!Steve x Female Reader x Dark!Ransom, minor Dark!Bucky x OFC x Dark!Sam

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Word Count: 3,072

Warning: Dub/Non-Con Smut, Oral (m & f receiving), Daddy Kink, MMF Threesome, Double Penetration, Spit Roasting, Non-Con Drugging, Breeding Kink, and Artistic License w/Biology

A/N: This is my gift to @labella420 for @drabblewithfrannybarnes, @chrissquares , and @amythedvdhoarder’s Happy Hoelentine’s Day Challenge. Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics. Shout out to @saiyanprincessswanie for letting me borrow an idea of hers for this fic. Thanks to @the-soulofdevil for the beta.

Back to Masterlist

Another Valentine’s Day, another day for the world to mock me being single.

You were having enough of a ‘meh’ week as it is. Dr. Strange had to return to Kamar-Taj for an in-person meeting and Wong was who knows where. They had instructed you to work on your portal and transfiguration spells while they were away which was fair since you’ve been lacking in that department.

It’s just that you longed for some excitement.

Luckily you wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s completely alone; Isabeau, your best friend, was coming over due to as she put it, ‘no one cares about a day where all one gets is somewhat good sex’.

Fast Forward two hours and you’re getting your room ready for Galentine’s Day Movie Night. You had decked out your room with homemade baked goods, drinks, best friend movies, all the good shit.

“I have wonderful news!” Isabeau burst in with gusto yet again.

You shot her a bemused smile, “What is it this time?”

“I have a new crush! It’s Eric from IT!”

“Are you sure this won’t end up like last time?” you queried in reference to the time when Isabeau’s crush turned out to be a complete asshole.

“Oh hush! This won’t be like that at all,” Isabeau retorted, “Now how about you? Have you had any luck with a hot sorcerer?”

“If only I’d be so lucky,” you muttered as Isabeau started on the Toffee Crunch Cookies you made.

A few minutes later, Isabeau’s eyes narrowed and her full lips curved upward in a mischievous smirk.

She had one of her ideas again.

“Hey, why don’t you try an ambiance spell. They’re harmless and you always feel better afterward.”

You didn’t like casting them due to something always going awry, but you relented once Isabeau broke out her puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, alright, I give,” you submitted, “I’ll try a simple floating star spell. Let me find the book.”

Both of you went to the library for the book but it was nowhere to be found. All of the ambiance and illusion books were blank.

“Is this a sorcerer thing? I’m not seeing any words or illustrations,” puzzled Isabeau as you went through book after book in the library only to find them blank.

“No. Maybe we should just go back to my room,” you suggested as you made your way to the exit.

“Wait! There’s one book left. You could try that one.” Isabeau pointed to the last book on the shelf. It was a little worn like many of the books that resided in the library, but the inscriptions seemed odd; like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

Yet it was the only book that had anything in it.

“Fine,” you relented as you took the book back to your room.

The spells in the book weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but one spell seemed to stand out to both of you.

“Speculum Mundus?” Isabeau wondered.

“It means Mirror World in Latin.”

“Oh,” her eyes got a mischievous glint to them again, “I bet you can’t cast the spell.”

“Not this again.”

“Oh come on,” Isabeau goaded, “It’s a simple mirror world spell. You’ve done it before. What’s the worse that can happen?”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you gonna chicken out again?”

“No! Just give me a minute,” you mumbled as your hands got into the starting position and recited the incantation.

The room changed instantly.

It was filled with prism-like structures and kaleidoscope imagery giving the space a surreal ambiance.

It wasn’t unlike the last time you went into the Quantum Realm with Dr. Strange and Wong, and yet the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and a chill shot through your spine.

You heard a gasp and turned around to see Isabeau with her protruding eyes opened wide and her mouth gaping. Following her line of sight, you saw four of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

Though something was amiss.

For one thing, there were two Steve Rogers; one with a beard and one clean-shaven. Bucky Barnes’ arm was silver and not dark gray with gold highlights. All of them were in black uniforms with sections of vermillion and/or maroon. Clean-shaven Steve had a black tactical suit with a vermillion Kraken on his chest. Bearded Steve had a skull with tentacles on it. Sam had three vermillion stripes and one maroon stripe across his chest and shoulders with a falcon’s head in red surrounded by a black circle between his pecs.

But the thing that set off all your alarms was the fact that Bucky’s outfit was a dead ringer of his Winter Soldier days.

Instinctively, you grabbed Isabeau’s hand and made a mad dash for the hallway. You needed to get some distance so you could ground yourself.

You tried breaking the spell but to no avail. Not only did the spell not break, but your hands also burned at each attempt.

“We won’t lose you again!” one of the Steves yelled as you and Isabeau turned a corner.

“Come here, mici prințese!” another voice, probably Bucky’s shouted as the two of you made your way into a closet.

“I think we’re okay for now,” you breathed telepathically as the four Adonises crept past your hiding place.

“What’s the plan now?” Isabeau asked fearfully as her heartbeat started to rise in terror.

“I don’t know but-” you were cut off by a strike to the back of your head and your vision rapidly fading to black.

Muffled voices and the beeping of medical equipment brought you from the void.

“Nothing is wrong….they’re…good, sir.”

“Be sure that they are. We can’t leave anything up to chance.”

Groggily, you open your eyes to find yourself in a sleek hospital room lightly chained to a bed. Several other people were monitoring your vitals. One of them is Dr. Bruce Banner, or what seems to be Dr. Banner.

Bruce turned to see you looking around with a slightly confused expression, “Ah, you’re awake,” he turned to one of his aides, “Contact the Captain and Lieutenant. Tell them to come to get their bride.”

You blinked. Bride?

“Where is Isabeau, my friend?” you inquired as one of the aides brought you some water.

Bruce scowled, “Don’t think about her. You might be able to see her if the Captain and/or Lieutenant wills it.” he remarked while eyeing you up and down in a condescending almost lecherous manner, “Hmm, looks great for breeding,” Bruce noted as he fondled and prodded your curves.

You’ve always been proud of how you looked, but at that moment you wanted to shrink in the corner after giving this Bruce a roundhouse kick to the groin.

You were about to tell Dark!Bruce to fuck off when Tony Stark, fuck it, Dark!Tony entered the room. This Tony looked a lot more sinister with his silver, gray, light, and steel navy blue armor. His face and hair were mostly uncovered with his facial expression positively predatory.

“Cap’s one lucky bastard. He gets a sexy bunny along with Lieutenant Smart Ass.”

Recalling how some megalomaniacs liked shows of submissiveness, you lowered your head and asked where you were.

Whether it be out of pity, spite, or malice, Tony answered your question, “You’re in another earth, another universe.”

You nearly swiveled to look outside the window. NYC’s skyline was radically different. There were fewer buildings and HYDRA insignias everywhere.

“HYDRA took over this world.” You deadpanned. FUUUUCK!

“Sexy and smart.” Tony praised sardonically.

It didn’t take time for HYDRA to regroup after WWII. Zola and his associates were able to convince Howard Stark to give them the Tesseract with the promise of great renown, riches, and no longer being bound by the laws of weaker men. They were able to create a superweapon with the help of Dr. Whitney Frost and have been ruling the planet ever since.

It could be worse. HYDRA knew they had to offer the people comforts in exchange for their obedience. They eradicated all diseases, created a good standard of living, and ended all petty conflicts under the new world order.

Though Tony didn’t feel the need to tell you. You’ll figure it out on your own.

The doors opened to reveal Steve Rogers and his younger, clean-shaven counterpart in all their masculine glory.

“Good, you’re here.” Bruce welcomed smirking at your silent pleas.

Both soldiers walked over and inspected you.

“Hello, kitten. Name’s Ransom.” The clean-shaven soldier drawled as he moaned from your scent, “Nice set of lips you’ve got there.”

“We’ll definitely have some fun with her,” Steve noted as licked his lips ogling your curves.

You had to use all of your restraint not to spit in their faces.

“We’ll take her.” Ransom decided while Steve nodded.

Several of the aides breathed a sigh of relief as Steve broke the chains on your bed like they were nothing.

“Don’t have too much fun now!” Tony called as Steve picked you up bridal style.

“Who am I kidding? they’ll breed her like a Catholic rabbit!”

“Um, where are you taking me?” you queried, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You will address us as ‘Sir’ in public unless instructed otherwise. Is that understood?” It took all that Steve had not to push against the wall and pound your pussy with his cock he was so enraged.

No, he needed to wait. No one was to see what’s theirs.

Ransom, for his part, chuckled and shook his head, “Best not to anger this one, kitten. He hasn’t been in the best of moods.”

You gasped once the doors to their living quarters opened.

The place was huge!

It had a modern yet retro design; it should’ve been confusing, but it worked. Grand windows showcased the skyline with a balcony in the middle with a huge kitchen next to what looked to be a restaurant-style fridge and a huge living room with a TV and a fireplace.

Yet there seemed to be something missing.

“Place needs a woman’s touch,” Ransom commented sending a smirk your way.

“I’ll see you in the guest quarters Ransom” Steve deadpanned as he led you down a hall.

The bedroom was enormous yet sparse like they didn’t know what to do with it.

You were about to say something when Steve dropped you onto the incredibly soft mattress. His eyes darkened with lust and you knew what he wanted. You couldn’t think of a way out of this, not with the magic inhibitors Bruce placed on your wrists.

Maybe you could give escape one last try; you just had to wait for the right opening.

Steve smirked upon seeing you removing your clothes. He liked that you knew your place, his pretty little princess.

You could only gasp when Steve removed his uniform top. He had an incredibly defined musculature: broad shoulders, beefy biceps, chiseled pecs and abs, and a seriously drool-worthy Adonis Belt. The light shining behind him made his body appear even more glorious.

Steve looked like an ancient god brought to modern times.

With a predatory smirk, Steve slowly crawled to you loving the smell of your arousal. “Let me lay out a few rules, sweetheart. You will make our meals, clean our rooms, bear our children, and be our good little whore. You must earn the right to wear a bra; panties are out of the question.”

Each rule was emphasized by a kiss or a love bite to your jaw, neck, collarbone, and shoulders.

Finally, you are to address us as Sir in public and Daddy in private. Say it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you muttered with your eyes downcast.

Steve lifted your chin up with his forefinger, “That’s a good girl,” and brought you in for a kiss on the lips.

The kiss was demanding yet soft. You were surprised he was capable of such gentleness.

Steve was about to push his tongue into his mouth when Ransom strolled into the room.

“Does she know the drill?”

Steve broke the kiss with a smirk,” Just finished explaining it.”

Ransom shot you a sardonic smirk, “You got the rules, kitten? Good. Now if you misbehave, I’m gonna send you to the dungeons for a few days.”

Steve started up again, “But...if you’re good-”

“A good little wifey,” Ransom interjected caressing your right cheek and leaning in for a kiss.

This kiss started off soft then intensified (really know how to lure a girl) into one filled with passion and dominance. Ransom forced his tongue into and moaned at your taste. A few seconds later he was pushing what felt like a small tablet past your tongue forcing you to swallow.

“Did you do it yet?”

“Cool it, grandpa! I did, don’t you worry. She’s gonna feel it. Aren’t ya, kitten.”

You started to feel strange. Your body temperature skyrocketed, your mind was in a deep haze, your thighs were clenching on overtime you were so turned on. You needed relief and fast.

“Please Daddies!” you begged as you tried your best not to touch yourself.

“See grandpa? She’s ready.” Ransom purred as he grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders. He planted a few kisses near your entrance and groaned at the smell of your arousal.

It only took one long, slow lick to your slit to turn you into a moaning mess. You couldn’t believe the pleasure you were feeling. It was like a bolt of lightning shot through you.

Ransom groaned at the taste of your juices. Not even Stark’s overpriced chefs could compare. “Fuck, she tastes divine,” he groaned and dove in for more. Ransom attacked your folds and swollen clit with insane intensity and precision alternating between his tongue and fingers.

You were on cloud nine. Each motion took you further to the precipice of an orgasm. Ransom kept bringing you back from the edge only thrust you back into his level of tumultuous.

Steve got in on the action by covering your moans with a kiss of all-consuming passion and started playing with your breasts.

“Fuck, these tits are amazing! Can’t wait until these are filled with milk” Steve purred as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and the other between his big and forefingers.

After twenty minutes of teasing, Ransom finally let you come. A volcanic eruption of ecstasy erupted from your core and Ransom lapped up all of your juices.

“Rogers, you’re in for a treat!” Ransom exclaimed as he hopped off the edge of the mattress.

“I get her pussy first since you got to eat her out,” Steve uttered as grinned at your blissed-out state.

With a tsk, both of them got you into position with Steve’s thick, muscular thighs on either side of your hips and Ransom standing in front of you taking off his pants.

He was huge! His cock was long, thick, and veiny. It wobbled against his masterfully sculpted abs with each step he took. You wondered how that was going to fit in your mouth. Turns out Steve’s was no smaller if his tip being coated with your slick is any indication.

“This won’t hurt, kitten. You were made for us.” Ransom cooed.

You didn’t know how right he was.

Steve made his move by pushing into you inch by delicious inch and moaned at the sensation. “Fuck, she fits like a dream.”

“Don’t take forever, grandpa.” Ransom chided.

“Shut up, ya punk!” Steve retorted as he began thrusting into you loving the way your pussy clenched around him like a vice’s grip.

“Open wide, kitten,” Ransom started to push his throbbing cock into your mouth.

It took a bit of time and effort to loosen your jaw enough for him to fully enter you. He started fucking your mouth before you were ready. You tried not to gag he was so rough.

What happened to the man from earlier?

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Ransom breathed as he was approaching his climax.

Steve came with a primal roar that reverberated throughout the room after making you come two more times.

“Swallow it, kitten” Ransom ordered.

Funny thing is, you didn’t need the order. You delighted in the salty, tangy, and slightly sweet flavor.

Two minutes after you swallowed all of Ransom’s spent, both men decided it was time to move. Ransom got onto the mattress and pulled you on top of him with his tip nudging your entrance. Steve got behind you and placed kisses along the juncture between your neck and shoulders while positioning himself at your ass.

“Please...please don’t do this!” you pleaded, the pill’s effect slipping for the tiniest of moments.

Steve grabbed your neck with just enough force to pause, not hurt.” Best be a good girl now, sweetheart,” he warned.

Ransom slid in first, “Holy fucking shit!” he moaned, “Sam owes me $40.

“That depends on how well their bride is taking to them,” Steve pointed out.

“Eh, we’ll say ours is better.”

Ransom moaned again once he bottomed out and grabbed the globes of your blessed backside. He couldn’t wait to grab and smack it around in their quarters.

Steve moved slowly causing both of your breathing to hitch, his from pleasure and yours from slight pain.

With a grin and smirk, they started moving in tandem. Your body almost couldn’t take the immense pleasure you were feeling.

“I could get used to this,” Ransom remarked.

“Well, we have the week,” Steve breathed past your ear.

Both kept at it until they came in you twice. You nearly passed out after your twelfth orgasm.

“Rest kitten,” Ransom purred as you finally gave in to your exhaustion.

“The bride took to our seed,” Steve reported to Director Pierce.

“Good. We found their parents along with the rest of the resistance.” Pierce imparted.

Steve scowled at the information.

You and your friend, Isabeau, were the only ones to survive the Eve Project. HYDRA wanted to genetically groom compatible brides for their top soldiers. You were promised to Steve and Ransom and your friend to Bucky and Sam. Both of you were whisked away to another Earth by the resistance and your treacherous parents.

Now you were back where you belong.

“When do we leave?” Ransom growled.

“Once Strange and Wanda crack the protection spell. In the meantime, enjoy your bride.” Pierce turned to leave, but stopped before turning off the screen,” I want to see some little ones soon.”

770 notes · View notes

tsukishimas-shortcake · 3 years

Text

Relationship Headcanons

↦ Character(s): Hakkai Shiba x fem!reader

↦ Rating/Warning: No rating though there are some light mentions of abuse (if you have read the manga you are aware of what I am talking about, I’m not going very deep into it though it literally just mentions it), mentions of anxiety attacks (no detail though), fluff, not proof read

↦ Word count: 1.8k (longer than planned, sections are bolded)

↦ Your Momo’s Receipt: Hello~ I’m post yet another TR headcanon and this was requested by the lovely @strawbub I hope this doesn’t disappoint, it did get longer than planned but I enjoyed writing it. I'll prob do a part two that's more of a scenario based on your first date or something since I didn't go into it here. Please note: for those of you who don’t know my blog is currently under construction, meaning I will not be updating my masterlist for the time being.

So how did you guys meet, well mostly because of Yuzuha,

One day in like elementary you’re walking home and you see this super pretty middle school girl just like yelling at this small group of guys

The guys end up running off just because they don’t wanna deal with her or the attention she's drawn to them

Behind her was a boy, taller than her but obviously younger. You didn’t assume they knew eachother though.

The boy and yuzuha began walking in opposite directions because one was going home while the other was going to pick up something like groceries

You’re so entranced by how she stood up to them yet she’s a girl who was far smaller and you end up catching up to her, almost stepping on her heels

You end up absent mindedly following her into the grocery store and eventually she just freezes, turns, and stare directly at you

Your eyes widen since you must’ve been staring and she just goes “may I ask why you’re following me?” And you explain how cool she was earlier. She invites you over for dinner (esp since her older brother won’t be home) and figured it’d be good for Hakkai to meet someone his age

You end up going over but Hakkai didn’t come down to eat so you never actually got to meet him, though from then on you would see Yuzuha every so often, visit every other weekend or so

But no matter how often you came over the next few months, you never once met hakkai,

That was until you both reached the end of your middle school education and we’re about to begin high school

You had gone over because you were going to borrow an old work book from Yuzuha, and when you go to knock on the door the door opens before your closed fist could hit it, instead hitting a firm chest

You blush and quickly apologize but the person in front of you doesn’t move at all, doesn’t say anything and almost looks like they drifted into space with their dead stare

You assume this is yuzuha’s older brother because you’ve also never met him and you immediately turn to walk away but Yuzuha calls over hakkai’s shoulder

“Y/N-Chan! You just got here where are you going?” This was def not yuzuha’s older brother. There’s no way she’d be that happy with him around; oh my god. Realization hit, the guy who you hit (though it was more of a tap) was hakkai.

The hakkai you had only caught a glimpse of in yuzuha’s photos, never talked to or actually seen in person despite going to the same school and living in the same neighborhood

He must hate you. That’s why he avoids you. That’s def why - is what you think

Yuzuha drags hakkai back inside and invites you in; you sit down with them in the living room and watch hakkai visibly relax now that he’s inside his house, his own space, with a pillow behind him and a blanket covering his lower half, he almost curls up into it as he continues to avoid your stare

“Hi hakkai…Kun? Im L/N Y/N” you say and you see his face dead pan once again

Yuzuha can be heard laughing from the kitchen as she comes back in.

She leans over and begins explaining that hakkai literally just freezes with any interaction between him and girls who aren’t in his family

You nod, thinking maybe it’s an anxiety thing? Which is the case with you, but only because he’s been watching you since you’ve come over (not in a creepy way) wanting to and working the courage up to talk to you

The 5th or so time you came over after that encounter he was inches away from introducing himself before the house phone rang causing everyone to kind of “wake up” in a sense

Every time since then he gets closer and closer but isn’t able to say anything; he even realizes he has a crush on you.

The way you sit when you do homework and how cute you look when you’re focused.

How your forehead scrunches up when you’re trying to figure something out and you end up just sitting back with a small huff followed by yuzuha’s signature laughter.

It’s also a huge thing that you get along with Yuzuha.

So enough with first meeting time for the confession.

He ends up confessing accidentally. He didn’t know you were coming over to begin with so he was flustered out of his mind. And how was he supposed to know you hadn’t actually fallen asleep and you could hear him over the tv

The tv was more white noise than anything and the day was hot since it was the middle of summer causing the window to be open and the sound of soft wind and small birds to drift in; this was the hot that makes you tired so you were all sprawled out of just sitting in a daze

So while resting your head on the table you’re dozing in and out but then you hear hakkai begin to speak, something he never really did around you

Now did you and hakkai text? Yes. Did it take him an hour to reply because his brain would explode when you replied to him? Yes. But was it a start to communication? Also a yes.

You hear him say your name quietly before he moved closer, you can feel his gaze on your features

“I like you” is all he says. Simple and sweet. But you sit there in shock, trying not to blush so he’ll have no idea you heard him but he can tell because your forehead scrunches

You heard him and are focused on if you should reply or not. And he knows that.

You open your eyes and just look up at him, he’s closer than expected. His hand close to yours on the floor and he reaches over and grabs it lightly. Hoping you’ll also return the gesture by holding his hand instead of leaving your hand limp inside his.

And you do, thank goodness, and Hakkai almost mentally can’t handle it.

Once you start dating it’s more so just hanging out at his house or yours; however he talks a bit more and you text a lot more. He’s gotten better at replying. It usually takes him like 15 minutes now

He’s kinda stressed about your relationship but not due to anything you or him did

He’s stressed because of the mentality his older brother gave him

Is he even allowed to be this happy?

He finally has someone thats small enough and naive enough that he can protect you; compared to constantly being protected it’s a sudden, strong, yet good change for him

He’s touch s t a r v e d

Yes Yuzuha shows affection; but he stopped accepting her hugs when he was around 8 just because he physically wasn’t able to handle it due to his bruises and such

But with you, even with his bruises and all you take care of him. Able to coax him into using medicines and toning down the physical violence (that he can control himself)

He also finds it super soothing when you lightly brush over his scars (especially those that his brother gave him), it helps him believe that scars are only physical and can fade with help

One thing that stresses him out the most is trying to hide you from his brother. Any time you leave something at the house its easy to pass it off as yuzuha's but when it comes to things like photos he has with you, he can't hang them up, show them off, or have them as his phone Lock Screen, etc. because he just really doesn't want his brother to know and target you since he'll then know that you're his weakness (aside from yuzuha as well)

Sometimes won't explain why he can't hang out and has legit pushed you out of his house before at the last minute notice of his brother coming home

Will always make sure you get home safe though, usually by having Yuzuha go with you since then she can just say you're a friend from school

Your parents love him, though they were a bit hesitant it became a "you always have a place to stay" because they learned about their family situation from you and yuzuha. So expect him to spend the night when he's too scared to deal with his brother. Same with yuzuha. (yes I know this isn't yuzuha head canons but its hard to write for him without mentioning her when they're so close)

We're talking three person sleep overs. Yuzuha and you of course share the bed and Hakkai takes some time to even set foot in your room much less sleep on a mattress that's on the floor

He has a small heart attack every time he comes into your room because he's overwhelmed with everything, he's never been so comfortable and it makes him feel restless. Like he's never and I mean n e v e r been less stressed and slept better than when he does so in your room

The smell, the colors, just being surrounded by you is something that completely changes his mood

Once showed up after he fought with his brother, tears in his eyes and clothes a bit tattered and you just pulled him to your room, and sat down with him.

You laid on your bed with him laying down onto of you, head on your chest as you rubbed his head and only said a few words "its not your fault"

He ends up crying so hard he falls asleep and gets dehydrated and you have to make him drink a bunch of water when he finally wakes up.

NSFW

super fucking careful w you

almost annoyingly so, but you're understanding

He knows that he might be taking things frustratingly slow but he knows that since you understand and know his history that you can help him get through it

Your first time you think you'll have to call it off because he's shaking so bad

"baby... are you sure it won't hurt you?" he keeps asking.

pretty sure that's the longest its ever taken him to finish because he was so anxious

despite being so slow and hesitant, late he isn't too scared to get a bit rougher

but im not talking anything crazy im talking like he's willing to pull your hair a bit or nip a bit harder at your neck.

Please never ask him to do anything like degrade you or some type of harsh physical rough shit, he can't

like literally im 99% sure that if you ask him to choke you or something he will pass out because of the anxiety attack he would have at even the thought.

in short with nsfw though he is sweet boy. He's a switch through and through. Loves when you take care of everything because then he doesn't have to be scared of hurting you.

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imkylotrash · 3 years

Text

What Goes Around

Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader

Request: Could I please request an imagine/fic with Hardin Scott x Reader and basically Hardin of course has his bad boy reputation but this intrigues the reader. She is his complete opposite and finds his rudeness quite funny. Hardin is a little too mean to her one time and makes her cry. It doesn’t occur to Hardin that she likes him and by that point he feels like he has lost his chance to get to know her because of his.. ‘wicked’ charm? You can choose the ending. Anonymous

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody

He’s watching you give your coffee order and it makes you smile. Everywhere you go, you seem to run into each other. At first, you’d just steal glances then go your separate ways but then it turned into “hello”. He made the first move and asked if you should have your coffee together one day. Ever since than you’d made polite conversation when you ran into each other and you had to admit that something intrigued you about the tattooed boy who refused to care about anyone other than himself. You couldn’t exactly relate to his perspective on life but you wanted to know more, to understand the boy who considered the world a cruel place rather than an opportunity to happy days.

“This seat taken?” you ask standing with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. The “Red Queen” series have become something of an obsession for you after finishing the first book. You never thought you’d stray from the classics but lately, YA books had been catching your eye.

“I see you’re still on the third book,” he smiles and in the same moment letting you know how he feels about YA books. You don’t take it too hard considering he’s not even willing to admit his love for books for anyone other than you.

“I’m taking my time and enjoying the words.” You have a tendency to get too invested and rush through a book to get to the ending meaning you miss a lot of the little Easter eggs along the way. You’re trying to change that.

“Hey, no judgement from me.” He’s lying but it’s a cute lie so you’ll allow it. Once you’ve finished your coffee, you stand up grabbing your things. You have exactly ten minutes before your class start but you like to get there early in case you need to do some last-minute preparations. Hardin remains seated and you remain neutral in regards to his lack of motivation when it comes to college.

I’ll be going classes now. Want to come?” Okay, maybe not that neutral. He shakes his head smiling and you know what that means. It takes three days before you run into him again. This time at the library where you reach for the same book which sounds completely absurd and something that would only happen in one of your books. It’s a cute moment though.

“I guess great minds think alike,” you say and he scoffs.

“Please. You wish you were as clever as me.” He offers you the book about to sit down when he spots some of his friends outside. You know he’s been a little vague about who you are considering just how different you are to them and frankly, you don’t mind. Hardin is an interesting character because there’s more to him than just the casual alcoholic teen while the people he surrounds himself with at those frat parties really don’t have much else going on for them. You went one time and you’d never been more bored in your life.

“I should go,” he says Within minutes he’s out the door walking in the direction away from his “friends”. After that you don’t spot him for a while or maybe he’s avoiding you to avoid the questions his friends will inevitable have. Either way, you find yourself missing his sarcastic comments. You hadn’t realised just how much of an impression he’d made on you until he wasn’t around. But he comes back to you eventually.

“Hey,” he says when he spots you at the coffee house.

“I thought you’d moved city,” you tease pushing out the chair across from you with your foot. He sits down sliding a book across the table.

“As an apology,” he grins. You turn the book over to see the cover and you can’t help but smile.

“You remembered.” One of the first conversations between you and Hardin had been about ecocriticism and a book called “The Road” that you’d borrowed from the library more times than you could count. You’d discussed the topic in class where your professor had recommended this book and now Hardin had gotten it for you.

“You wouldn’t shut up about the book for at least five hours. How could I not?” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal but it still means a lot to you. Now you could read the book whenever you felt like it. And he’d gotten the original cover rather than the movie cover. It would’ve been the perfect gift if his friends hadn’t shown up and ruined everything. You see the change in him the second they enter the coffee house.

“Hardin, who’s this?” Jace asks with hungry eyes making you feel incredibly uncomfortable.

“Just a friend,” Hardin offers not wanting to give any information to these people.

“Sure, friend. Do you feel the same way, honey?” Jace asks making the rest of the guys snicker. Before you have a chance to answer, Hardin opens his mouth and ruins everything.

“Yes, friend. I mean look at her. Not exactly my type, is it? I mean, could it get anymore vanilla?” This earns him a high five from one of the guys but it cracks your heart. You’ve never thought much about your close or the way you looked because you thought the inside counted a hell of a lot more than the outside. But hearing that the idea of being with you seemed so ludicrous hurt more than you liked to admit.

“I should get going.” You don’t look at Hardin when you leave and you don’t bring the book with you. If this is how he thinks of you then you don’t want anything from him. And it’s not even the fact that he considers you a friend. If that’s all it was, you’d be fine. It’s how easy it was for him to degrade you that really hurt. You tell yourself you won’t cry but it’s a lost battle as you head home. Unfortunately, you don’t reach home before he catches up to you.

“Leave me alone, Hardin,” you say picking up the pace. You’re determined to reach your apartment without stopping but of course, you can’t help yourself when it’s Hardin.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Of course, I’m mad at you!” you yell not caring who hears you at this point.

“You of all people should realise what it’s like to be judged on the way you look. I like the way I look and I absolutely refuse to let you make me feel bad about it!” You don’t care if he said it because of his friends or not, it’s the fact that it came to him so easily. That means he’s thought it before regardless of the situation at the coffee house.

“It was a joke!” he yells back opting for defensive rather than just apologise. You’re not doing this. You turn around and this time he doesn’t follow you. It’s weeks before you dare return to the coffee house. You don’t want to meet him again. Instead you dive head first into the universe of Jane Austen thinking he could’ve been your Mr. Darcy with his sour attitude and soft spot for you but it didn’t turn out that way. But your need for good coffee eventually win over your fear of seeing him again. The plan is in, order, pay and leave. It’s just not that simple once you’re inside.

“You forgot this.” He places “The Road” in front of you as you’re waiting for your coffee. You can’t believe he’s held onto to it since that day. You figured he would’ve just chucked it in the bin.

“I’m really sorry for what I said. It was rude and thoughtless. You deserve better.” It’s a good apology but you can’t help but think what the insult will be the next time his friends catch you together.

“You’re right. I deserve better.” You get your coffee and head outside.

“Throw me a bone here. I said I was sorry.” Of course, Hardin follows you outside refusing to let this go.

“Hardin, you’re only sorry because I called you out on it. You don’t actually care that it hurt me.” He’s not the first guy who thought he could walk all over you and he won’t be the last but you refuse to accept that treatment. You deserve a lot better than that.

“I’m sorry because it hurt you. I didn’t think you’d read so much into it,” he defends himself making it clear to you that it’s a pointless discussion. He’s not going to understand why what he said was hurtful despite his own appearance and the comments he’s received.

“How could I not? I’m sitting there thinking we might have a shot and then you pull the rug out from under me. I’m not playing these games with you.”

“What?” You don’t bother repeating yourself instead using this moment of shock to hurry away. You manage to avoid him for another week before he corners you on campus.

“You can’t just throw something like that out in the world and then leave. It’s been going round and round in my head.” He has a hand on each side of you leaning against the wall. It’s effective for keeping you in place and distracting you from why you’re actually upset with him.

“I never thought you’d like me like that. Shit, I would’ve done things very differently if I ever thought I had a chance.” This time you’re the one in shock. You didn’t think he’d put so much thought into what you said last time.

“What would you have done differently?” Despite vowing to yourself that you’re done with Hardin, you find yourself curious once again. This bad boy persona with a loving man hidden inside seems like an impossible paradox.

“I would’ve kept you well clear of those idiots from the frat house. Bought you flowers maybe. Taken you to dinner. Bought you a hell of lot more books.” You don’t want to forgive him but it’s hard to think when he’s this close to you.

“I can start now if you’d like.” He places a hand on your cheek and his touch gives you chills. You inhale sharply telling yourself not to give into him but your body has already thrown in the white towel. He leans down stopping inches from your lips.

“I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.” Instead of answering, you lean up closing the gap between you. It’s the first kiss but definitely not the last.

#hardin scott x reader #hardin scott imagine #hardin scott blurb #hardin scott after #hardin scott gif #hardin scott #after gif #after imagine #after blurb #After movie #after we collided #after we collided blurb #after we collided imagine #awc imagine #awc gif #awc blurb #awc

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t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Day Off (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

Word Count: 2,158

Warnings: FLUFF, bad language, suggestive language, my shit writing lmao

Summary: You hardly ever got to spend time with your husband, so when he has a day off, well, your heart can’t help but be entirely full. Especially when you see him interacting with your children.

~~~~

Anonymous said:

Hello💜💜 I was wondering if you could make an fluff/smut imagine about where Bakugou where the reader is his beloved wife they both have kids and just shows how their daily lives are. Btw I’m a huge fan of your imagines🥰

~~~~

I hope you enjoy this request anon! I didn’t do smut this time around, but here is some fluffy papa Bakugou for you! Also thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so glad you like my shit writing lol.

I always enjoy writing fluffy shit like this lmao. I love Bakugou with all my fucking heart and I hope you guys enjoy this too!

~~~~

You loved your family, you would do anything for them, the unconditional love that you held in your heart was something that would never be questioned.

But sometimes, you loved your alone time just a tad bit more.

Like now.

The house was clean, the house was quiet; and you actually got to enjoy a nice hot cup of coffee, fresh and incredibly delicious for your sleep deprived senses.

You were an early riser, maybe it was because of all the morning training and runs that Bakugou had forced you to do when you guys were younger, or maybe it was because when you had kids you had realized that there just wasn’t enough time in the day to get everything done.

Quite possibly it was the latter.

But everything was done, the laundry, the dishes, sweeping and mopping, you had gone to the grocery store yesterday, a surprisingly pleasant trip since the kids were actually behaving for once.

You owe it to your husband, who had gotten off of his hero duties early yesterday and had helped you around the house, and he was off today.

The first time in a long time.

You probably should’ve lingered in your shared bed just a little longer, you hardly had alone time with the explosion hero as it was, but… you had been dying to read the new book that you had gotten weeks ago. Bakugou could handle waking up alone for one day, right?

“Are you fucking kidding me? You shit nerd, how long have you been doing this?” his familiar gruff voice sighed from the entrance of the living room.

You glanced up from your book, a small smile tugging at your lips as you took in his sleepy figure.

Bakugou’s blonde hair was even more disheveled, his sweats hung low on his hips, one of his large hands was underneath his shirt, absentmindedly scratching at the skin that stretched across his sculpted stomach.

You took a lot of pleasure in the fact that you got to see the most popular pro hero so domestic, so casual.

His ring caught the morning light streaming through the window, glinting beautifully as he stretched out his muscular arms above his head, his shirt rising up, exposing the lower half of his stomach to your greedy eyes. His biceps bulged out beautifully against the sleeves of his shirt.

You also took pleasure in just staring at your husband, that beautiful specimen of a man was all yours.

“What time is it?” you asked.

“Almost 9.”

“Hmmm. Since 4:30 then?” You pondered, placing your bookmark between the pages, and closing the book completely, placing it on the coffee table.

Bakugou made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat as he padded off towards the kitchen.

You laughed softly to yourself, following after the muscular male.

“Stop fucking staring at me.” Bakugou grumbled, vermilion eyes sliding over to you briefly as he drank down his glass of water.

“Can’t a wife just look at her husband?” you asked innocently, he walked over to you, his hands coming down on either side of your face, squeezing your cheeks together tightly.

“Not when the wife ditches her husband in the morning to read a stupid fucking book.” he sneered.

You laughed, grabbing at his much larger hands, and pulling them away from your face.

“I’m sorry Katsu, what can I do to make it up to you?” you teased lightly.

You shouldn’t have asked.

A wicked smirk stretched across his face. “Get on your knees.” his voice was husky, commanding as he stared at you, daring you to challenge him.

You could feel your lips part at his words, a pink blush beginning to dust your cheeks.

It had been a long time since you -

“Mama?”

The moment was gone completely, the wide smirk that Bakugou wore turned into a deep scowl.

“Good morning baby.” you cooed turning to look at your small child. He was the spitting image of Bakugou, but he was the sweetest boy, completely unlike his father.

He rubbed at his small eyes before they landed on Bakugou, a sweet smile stretching across his face.

“Papa. Up.” he held out his little arms, urging Bakugou to pick him up.

You could see the scowl visibly melting away from Bakugou’s face, replaced with a gentle one as he gazed at his son.

It was hard for Bakugou, being able to spend time with his children, despite how rough he was, how crude his words could be; he was a wonderful father, a wonderful husband.

You were entirely lucky.

Bakugou easily swung his child up into his muscular arms. Your son sighing in happiness as he rests his head against Bakugou’s broad shoulders, his thumb coming up to rest between his lips.

The sight of the two of them together melted your heart completely, clenching tightly in your chest as Bakugou pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your son’s head.

“Papa’s home today?” Another familiar voice spoke. You turned to see your daughter staring at Bakugou in curiosity.

She was the oldest, and the spitting image of you, except… well her personality was entirely her father’s.

“Why don’t you guys go watch some cartoons while I get breakfast started?” you hummed.

“Come on you shit stain.” Bakugou ruffled his daughter’s hair, urging her out of the kitchen into the living room.

You and your daughter frowned, you at the fact that he just called your child a shit stain, and her because he messed up her already messy hair.

“Your breath smells like shit Papa.” your daughter said, tone annoyed as she shoved his hand away from her head.

You sighed tiredly, hand resting on the side of your face.

“Oi, you aren’t allowed to curse.” Bakugou scolded, a large tick mark appearing on his forehead and he grabbed your daughter’s head pushing her out of the kitchen.

You could hear their loud bickering fading into the living room, causing you to sigh deeply once again.

But a smile twitched on your lips, it had been a long time since you guys got to enjoy the morning together like this.

When you had finally finished cooking breakfast you went to go grab the rest of your family.

Your heart melted at the sight. Bakugou held both kids in his arms, your children looking incredibly small as they cuddled up against their father.

Despite the fact that your eldest and Bakugou always fought, she was a daddy’s girl through and through. Bakugou’s fingers combed through her unruly hair absentmindedly, while his other hand rubbed up and down your son’s back.

Their eyes were glued to the TV as some anime played.

You cleared your throat, all three pairs of eyes flickering to your form.

“Breakfast is ready.” you smiled, watching as your little girl climbed off of Bakugou padding past you towards her seat in the kitchen. Bakugou lifted up your son, easily carrying him into the kitchen and setting him down on his highchair.

“What should we do today?” you mused as you guys began eating, Bakugou was feeding your son, making a disgusted face when he spit the food back out.

“I need new shoes for school mama.” Your daughter said, mouth full of food.

Bakugou made another disgusted face, handing your daughter a napkin.

“Wipe your face brat, and don’t talk with your mouth full.” He lectured.

“Can we go to the park today?” her eyes lit up, ignoring her father completely as she tossed the crumpled-up napkin at his face.

“Don’t throw shit at me! Don’t ignore me either!” he growled, a tick mark appearing on his face once again.

“I’m trying to talk to mama, and you keep interrupting, annoying papa.” she snapped back.

You sighed. “No fighting you two. We should be able to go to the mall today....” you trailed off, trying to remember if there was anything important you had to do today.

“I need more workout shirts, and new training gloves. Damn Deku borrowed mine and never returned them.” Bakugou said gruffly.

“Then I guess we can all go on a trip today.” you smiled. “Let’s finish up and start getting ready.”

****

You almost forgot what it was like to bring the entire family out, it had been too long since the last time you guys did something like this.

Needless to say, you were already exhausted.

It took forever to get everyone out of the house. Bakugou did his best to help get the kids ready but… between the constant fighting with him and your daughter and your son's endless crying about not wanting to go and not wanting to put on pants, and Bakugou’s attempts at intimacy as you got ready... well, you wanted to get this over with already.

“What do you think?” your daughter asked, pointing her toe out, the Uravity themed shoes on full display for you.

“Very pretty, do you want those ones?” you asked.

She nodded excitedly.

“Why do you want round face’s shoes? Why not mine?” Bakugou grumbled, staring down at his daughter accusingly.

“Yours are ugly papa. I don’t like the colors. Uravity is my favorite hero.” She said face blank as she stared at the blonde male.

This was definitely a sight to see, considering that Bakugou had your son perched on his hip and he was glaring down at the small girl who was glaring right back at him.

“Huh? Ground Zero isn’t your favorite hero?” he barked.

“No. Uravity is.”

“Well mama’s favorite hero is Ground Zero.” He smirked, eyes flickering over to you.

“Actually, Red Riot is my favorite hero.” You teased, soft laughter escaping your lips as your husband’s face fell at the mention of his best friend.

“Let’s go over here!” Your daughter said excitedly, the conversation completely abandoned as she took sight of the toy store across from the shoe store you guys were at.

“Hold on. I still have to pay.” you said in amusement, walking over to the cashier.

Bakugou stood next to you, one of his large hands resting on the small of your back. When you had finished paying and began trailing after your excited daughter, he leaned in close.

“You’re getting punished for saying that.” Bakugou growled near your ear.

“Is that a promise?” you challenged, ignoring the blush in your cheeks and the pleasant twist that occurred in the pit of your stomach.

“You can count on it.” he growled, a smirk playing on his lips before he walked off to catch up with your daughter.

You were definitely looking forward to it.

****

You sighed loudly as you sat down on the park bench.

“Here.” Bakugou handed you one of the drinks he got from the vending machine, his eyes never leaving his children that were now playing on the playground equipment.

“Did you have fun today?” you asked, resting your head against his shoulder as he took a seat beside you.

“No.” he snorted, and then his expression changed, his eyes softening completely, his face relaxed. “It’s been a while since we got to spend the day together.”

His large fingers found your own, intertwining together tightly. “Thank you.”

You glanced over at him curiously. “For what?”

You could see a soft blush coating his cheeks. He was embarrassed. It wasn’t anything new though, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was terrible at verbally expressing his feelings.

“You’re a good mother, and a good wife. Thank you for always taking care of the kids… and me.” he grumbled.

Your expression softened, your heart warming completely. It was rare when Bakugou praised you like this, again, he was terrible at expressing his feelings verbally, especially something so gentle and heartfelt like this.

“Of course, Katsu.” you beamed at him.

He scoffed at your expression, but reached for you, cupping the side of your face as he stooped low, pressing his mouth against yours carefully.

You hummed low in your throat; eyes fluttering shut as you kissed him back. Sweet and gentle, incredibly warm and full of love.

“Ew. You actually let papa do that? That’s disgusting.” You broke free from the kiss and turned to see your daughter staring at you guys in disgust.

You laughed softly at her comment, Bakugou on the other hand…

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching your brother?” he asked, eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

“No wonder Deku is the number 1 hero.” Your daughter muttered to herself before turning to walk away.

“What the fuck did you just say you shit?” Bakugou growled, standing up and swooping down, easily throwing your daughter over his shoulders.

She squealed loudly, contagious giggles escaping her lips as Bakugou jogged over to the playground. He scooped up your other child, swinging him around rapidly.

A soft smile twitched at your lips as you watched them.

You loved your little family.

#bnha #bnha bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #pro hero bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugo imagine #bakugo fluff #request #Ground Zero

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with-my-murder-flute · 3 years

Text

Sometimes you just have a really intense week and can’t stop thinking about how much trauma Lan Sizhui experienced by the time he was 5 and how being the Very Best Boy isn’t always healthy and then you need to write Lan Wangji the child psychologist and his incredibly anxious foster-son, y’know?

---

Bunny is on time-out again.

"You have to behave,” A-Yuan says in the voice of the potato-head, packing accessories into its body and shoving it into the bed of a soft plastic truck. “You get in the car now.” The Barbie van is already full, with a dinosaur and a fingerpuppet and one of the new larger Lego figures, and all their carefully packed luggage. A-Yuan does that. Over and over again, for each of his toys, he methodically packs and unpacks luggage. It’s his most common form of play, but not the most enjoyable.

A-Yuan’s breathing is rapid and shallow, so much so that he takes little gasps when he talks to himself. Routinely, predictably, he’s calmer when he turns away from the dollhouse. He’s most collected when selecting items to put into luggage, deciding on pieces of felt and Barbie shoes, but even with the vehicles he can lose himself enjoying the movement and progress of the cars. But underneath it all, there’s a jerkiness to his movements and a certain disconnected quality in his speech and body language that tells Lan Wangji that he’s pretty distressed.

It’s a step forward that Bunny is out at all, Lan Wangji knows. A behaviour therapist at A-Yuan’s last preschool made it a point to extinguish comfort-seeking behaviour towards the toy, which was becoming both careworn and grubby. A-Yuan’s had it at least since he was fourteen months old; it was with him when he came into care. Maybe his birth mother gave it to him. A-Yuan has obediently derogated the toy; if it’s left lying out, he can usually be trusted to throw it into a corner to prove what a big, grown-up boy he is.

Lan Wangji has very carefully gauged his son’s limits of tolerance for some things. When the car ride begins, he waves slightly and says, “Have a nice trip,” which makes A-Yuan glance back at him nervously, but it’s just mild enough, just unemotional enough, just tolerable enough, that it doesn’t provoke too much emotion. A-Yuan can keep pushing his vehicles around, and feel safe enough to drive one into Lan Wangji’s foot. He doesn’t persevere at that point, though; the trip has culminated and he gets up and walks to where he can see down the hallway to the front door, then wanders over to the slide.

A hundred million years ago, Lan Wangji thought he’d be a genetics researcher, like his uncle. Then he thought he’d be a neuroscientist, like his undergraduate thesis advisor. Then he thought he’d be a psychologist like his brother, who focuses entirely on assessment and the development of psychometric tools. For a little bit in grad school, he thought he’d counsel adults, like Wei Wuxian, until a classmate told Wei Wuxian that Dialectical Behavioural Therapy was “objectively badass” and he developed a fixation Lan Wangji could not follow. In retrospect his career path is absolutely obvious, resonating clearly through every bone of him, but it took him a very long time to realize he ought to work with children. It’s a little shocking that he, who was so bad at being a child, feels so prepared to be a father.

He smiles when A-Yuan looks at him anxiously from the slide, the moment of uncertainty as he lets go and begins sliding down triggering the need for reassurance. Lan Wangji is always waiting for that glance, waiting to return it. At A-Yuan’s last placement he’d been assessed as having an avoidant/dismissing attachment style, and despite its uncharitable and parent-shaming nature Lan Wangji can’t help but agree with what his husband had muttered over that one: “Were the parents even trying?”

The most vital task, and the hardest, is being present in the moment with a child. Not worrying about the future, not concerned with the past, not preoccupied with an external standard. He’s surprisingly bad at performing objective assessments with children, because he can see how unfair they all are. His greatest facility is something he built for himself, brick by painstaking brick: the willingness to sit with discomfort, and have faith that the chaos will not remain chaos. All his years of meditation have cultivated a still eye to see the world from, and the faith that patience and compassion will see him through.

Still smiling, still watching A-Yuan, Lan Wangji moves closer to the dollhouse. He carefully stars arranging its contents, righting knocked-over furniture and returning blankets to little wooden beds. He takes out a shark figurine, a couple of doll clothes, then puts Bunny on the floor near his shin. When A-Yuan comes close, magnetically drawn away from the slide, Lan Wangji reaches behind himself for the tea set they were using earlier, arranging cups and plates in front of him as though they’re going to have another tea party. He leaves the placement of the cups ambiguous; it’s not like Bunny is specifically invited, but there is a suggestive proximity, the way the other cup is in proximity to the shark. A-Yuan takes the teapot, and Lan Wangji solemnly holds his cup out while A-Yuan pours. For the sake of the ritual he accepts milk and refuses sugar and mimes stirring his invisible ingredients before taking a sip.

When A-Yuan is done drinking, Lan Wangji turns to Bunny, lifting a cup, and asks, “Would you like some tea?” A-Yuan noticed the moment that Lan Wangji’s hand moves, but as he addresses the rabbit A-Yuan seems to lose interest, which is to say, he slightly dissociates; blink and you missed it, but his eyes go a little glassy, he looks away, and then he acts on the adrenaline and gets up and wanders away.

The current theory about Bunny is like the theory of gravity, which is to say, it’s definitely pretty certain but it never hurts to be humble when it comes to knowledge. It’s honestly a little more speculative and psychodynamic than Lan Wangji is truly comfortable with, and A-Yuan’s case manager, possibly a little defensive over the last preschool placement, absolutely refuses to consider the possibility. But it still feels as essential and true as which way is up that Bunny performs the vital task of holding all the parts of A-Yuan that he blames for making the adults he cares about disappear. Bunny holds both the neediness and the hope for comfort that were so painful, his son shut them down in order to survive. Bunny was how A-Yuan mediated that desire, the source of his comfort, until he was three and a half, and the behaviour therapist.

A-Yuan knew his foster parents didn’t like him being disorganized and distressed and clingy, that they’d rather he behaved more like a six-year-old than four. Which he could, sometimes, because he had a ferocious intelligence which put him cognitively ahead of his emotional development. But he, well... adapted a little too quickly, one might say. Learned his lesson a little too well. Now they’re trying to reignite the behaviours that were extinguished.

Lan Wangji takes a risk, while A-Yuan is pulling picture books off the lower shelf, and lifts Bunny to his shoulder like a colicky infant. He doesn’t do anything else, aside from stroking the rabbit’s fur. He leaves it in place, with a little guiding help from his hand, when A-Yuan brings a Franklin book over and climbs into his lap, demanding to be read to. With interest he notes, halfway through the story, that Lan Wangji holding and petting Bunny doesn’t distress A-Yuan; as the story arc gets as exciting as Franklin books ever do (which is not, to be clear, a criticism) A-Yuan turns in his arms long enough to distractedly reach up and pet Bunny too, before turning back and trying to grab the book for himself.

Wondering how far he can push this, he keeps Bunny in place on his shoulder when they leave the room to check the clock, and A-Yuan goes to the living-room window to watch the street for Wei Wuxian. He looks curiously when Lan Wangji leans down to dig the remote out between the couch cushions, but easily redirects when Lan Wangji turns on the TV and goes to prepare dinner. Having the show on limits his anxious glances out the window to three or four a minute only, instead of sustained attention followed by a meltdown if he had to wait more than five minutes.

Lan Wangji thinks it would be easier to keep Bunny in place, on his shoulder like a dishtowel, if he had weighted plastic beads in his extremities, or if he was velcroed. He’s wary of changing anything about such a strong comfort object, though, so he just learns to move and stand differently to keep the rabbit from constantly falling off.

A-Yuan greets Wei Wuxian with the kind of terrified delight that looks like general indifference if you don’t know better; he runs over, stands uncertainly within arm’s reach of Wei Wuxian’s legs, and then dodges away before Wei Wuxian can reach down to him. Lan Wangji helpfully muted the show when he heard the door open--it gives A-Yuan the space to sit with his back to the room and self-regulate while the adults say hello.

“New friend?” his husband asks finally, an eyebrow raised.

“Modelling it as appropriate,” Lan Wangji says. “I thought perhaps he could tolerate us demonstrating that it is not discouraged.”

“Nice rabbit, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says seamlessly, in a voice meant to be heard from the couch. “I like it. Makes me wish I had a rabbit.”

“They are very good friends,” Lan Wangji agrees. “This one is not mine, but he is keeping me company.”

“Nice,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “Maybe whoever you borrowed him from will let him hang out with me sometime.”

Their audience does not comment on this, but they didn’t need him to. Wei Wuxian sets the table while Lan Wangji cooks. A-Yuan’s palate is still pretty limited, so he’s used to making three separate elements of one meal, and can live with cutting up cooked hot dog into little coins so long as he doesn’t have to eat them himself. They just supplement their kid’s diet with a multivitamin.

A-Yuan looks askance enough, when dinner is ready, that Lan Wangji takes Bunny off his shoulder and asks, “Where should he sit while we eat?”

There is a fourth chair, albeit completely out of proportion, but he doesn’t dare try it. Instead A-Yuan thinks for a minute, and points to the kitchen counter behind the table. Lan Wangji props Bunny up against the wall, observing dinner if not participating, and after a second to think, A-Yuan accepts this as normal and climbs into his chair. He is meticulously well-behaved.

Lan Wangji aches for his son, and hopes one day he’ll feel confident enough in their love to break the rules around them.

They eat.

#the untamed #my stuff #lan wangji #lan sizhui #AU where everybody's a therapist #the colleague from grad school lan wangji consults most with is nie huisang the family therapist #never saw that coming

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devildomimagines · 3 years

Note

Solomon: Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, so I'm borrowing your guys' router for a bit. Hope you don't mind.

How do bros react?

I'm not gonna lie, I laughed when this came in. I took this as Solomon hanging around the HOL but as I was writing I realized you might have meant Solomon taking the router so I put that in Levi’s part.

Belphegor

He probably wouldn’t notice at first.

Rudely awakened, in his opinion, by an explosion below his room in the attic.

He was going to go back to sleep but when he smelled the lingering smoke, he figured he should check it out.

Yawning, he opens the door and finds Solomon fanning a cauldron while reading through his tablet.

“Belphegor! Did I wake you? I’m sorry, there was an unexpected reaction.”

Always one to get right to the point, Belphie asks, “Why are you here?”

“MC said I could come over. Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall’s router, so I’m borrowing your guys’ for a bit. Hope you don’t mind.”

Belphie furrowed his brow and answered, “No, just keep it down or move somewhere else.” Ultimately he didn’t care as long as his naps wouldn’t be interrupted.

Beelzebub

Beel was on the way out of the kitchen and passed Solomon sitting on the couch in the common room.

He was a few steps from passing the room completely when the sight of Solomon finally registered. He took a few steps back.

Solomon giggled as Beel came back into view. “Hello~”

Beel popped a chip in his mouth as he replied, “Hi Solomon, no offense but what are you doing here?”

“No offense taken, Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall’s router, so I’m borrowing your internet for a bit. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Ah. I don’t mind.” Then a thought popped up, “Does Lucifer know you’re here?”

“MC invited me so I assumed they asked permission.”

Beel nodded, “Probably. See you.” He then headed towards his room to get ready for a run. He also doesn’t really care.

Asmodeus

“Solomon!?” Asmo gasps, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming over!?”

Solomon sighed, “If I told you then I wouldn’t get any work done.”

“Work?” Asmo walked over and rubbed Solomon’s shoulders. Asmo scanned the papers spread over the dining room table and the website pulled up on Solomon’s laptop.

“Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, so I'm borrowing your guys' router for a bit. Hope you don't mind.”

“Of course not! You’re always welcome!” Asmo smiled warmly at his pact partner.

Solomon couldn’t help smiling back, “Do you want to join us? MC should be back shortly with some snacks.”

“How can I say no to my two favorite humans?” Asmo giggled, “I’ll go grab my school bag.”

Satan

Irritation flared as he came across someone sitting in his favorite chair in the HOL’s library.

The flash of white hair had him seeing red, he was ready to rip Mammon out of the chair with force if needed.

When he stomped around to be face to face with the wrongdoer, he was taken back, “S-Solomon?”

“Oh hi Satan! Doing some reading?” Solomon gestured to the book in the blond’s hand.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he wrangled in his wrath but he couldn’t stop his next statement’s bite, “What are you doing in our library?”

“Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, so I'm borrowing your guys' router a bit for research on this project. Hope you don't mind.”

Satan nodded, “That’s fine.” He resigned himself to his second favorite chair, “Simeon sure does have a penchant for breaking technology in unexplainable ways.”

“Right?” Solomon laughed and the two settled into an amiable silence.

Leviathan

30 minutes to release, Levi reminded himself. One of his favorite animes was premiering their season and series finale and he was binge watching the show to be ready. He had it timed perfectly, he’d wrap up 5 minutes before, get some water and snacks and settle in.

At 20 minutes, his TV and computer both went black. He freaked out and when they both booted up with an interrupted connection error he stormed from his room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Levi yelled with a pointed finger as he found Solomon packing up the router.

“Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, so I'm borrowing your guys' router for a bit. Hope you don't mind.”

“I absolutely do mind!” Levi ripped the router from the bag and started plugging it back in. As it reestablished the connection, he looked at the time, 10 minutes!

“Well what am I supposed to do, MC said I could use it for a bit?” Solomon looked to Levi for answers.

Hating to cross MC and also running out of time Levi said, “I don’t know, just work on the project here? I need the internet for the release of the season finale that’s dropping…” another glance at the time, “in 5 minutes! Whatever you do, don’t unplug that router or I’ll come hunt you down.” Levi made a gesture that he was watching the sorcerer and then bolted from the room.

Mammon

He wasn’t doing anything important, just scrolling through Devilgram when the video wouldn’t load. Weird, he thought, refreshed and now his whole timeline wouldn’t load. His D.D.D. was still connected to the internet so he figured Levi was playing around with too many devices.

He pushed himself up out of bed to give the third born a piece of his mind.

On his way to Levi’s room, he found Solomon posted up in the common room. He had his laptop and tablet on the table with paperwork scattered around. It looked like he was taking a break by looking at his D.D.D. just as Mammon had been.

“So it was you, sucking up all the internet,” Mammon accosted.

Solomon jumped, he looked embarrassed to have been caught on his phone, “Hello Mammon. Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, MC said I could borrow your guys' router for a bit. Hope you don't mind.”

Mammon wanted to tell Solomon to get lost but if MC had given the ok... Mammon felt conflicted and when Solomon smiled, he knew he was right where the wizard wanted him.

“Whatever! I’m heading out anyway,” Mammon grumbled and decided to head to a casino, he deserved to blow off some steam.

Lucifer

Lucifer sighed, how did I end up like this? He looked up from his office chair at Solomon typing away on his laptop.

Originally MC asked if Solomon could come over to finish his essay. He hadn’t minded as long as MC was with him, not totally trusting the sorcerer to keep his nose out of the secrets of the House of Lamentation.

Solomon had come over earlier than MC had mentioned, “Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router. I hope you don't mind that I’m early but I have other assignments that I need to get done.”

MC wasn’t back yet so Lucifer led him inside and to his office, offering it was a good quiet spot to focus until MC returned. The unsaid added benefit that he could keep Solomon under his watchful eye.

The next time Lucifer looked up, he caught Solomon’s gaze. He narrowed his eyes, “Were you watching me?”

“Maybe,” Solomon shrugged, “Were you watching me?”

Lucifer sighed again as he thought, when was MC going to be back?

#obey me #obey me crack #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #my writing #anon squad #obey me solomon

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

Text

Borrowed Tires

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 7 of 13

Word Count: 1502

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

"Hello," You say to the small teenager that had returned with your husband from patrol.

"Hi," he says crossing his arms and sounding grumpy, but to you is obviously uncomfortable.

"I'm (y/n)," you say trying to help him feel more comfortable, you also pull the hood of your sweatshirt down so he can see your face. He's in the bat cave and there's a reason for that, you don't know what it is yet but you don't subscribe to your husband's level of secrecy when it comes kids and making sure they're welcomed.

His eyes go wide, "y-you're y/n l/n."

"Yep, that's me," you reply and offer him a gentle smile.

"You wrote those books!" He says excitedlypw.

"Yeah, I did," you say smiling at the boy then at your husband. "May I ask what your name is?"

"Jason," he says, sounding less closed off now.

"That's a nice name," you smile, "so, can I ask what brings you to Batman's lair?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

Jason's demeanor changes and he shuffles on his feet before quietly saying, "I was trying to steal his tires... he didn't like that."

You laugh gently, "well, that's rude of him to make you come back here just for trying to take his tires." You pause for a moment before asking, "you want to go upstairs? I'm sure could find something to eat and maybe you can tell me what your plans were for those tires so we can get you your own," you say with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Oh, uh- I don't really need tires," he shuffles again.

"Okay, you don't need to tell me why you wanted them," you say, offering him another smile before turning to Bruce, "You go change Bruce, then meet us in the kitchen," you say heading towards the stairs.

"Wait! Bruce Wayne is Batman?!" Jason says following you, maybe a little more relaxed.

"Who else did you think it could be? Or did you think I was having an affair with Batman?" You joke yet again and hear a slight laugh from behind you, you don't turn around as you can imagine the way Bruce is shaking his head behind you.

He pauses for a moment, trying to come up with an answer for you, "uh... I hadn't really thought about it. I was busy being scared cause I tried to steal Batman's tires and he kidnapped me."

You laugh once again, "I suppose that's logical reasoning." The two of you come to a stop in the kitchen doorway, "you're welcome to anything you can find that sounds good. And if you want I'm sure Alfred wouldn't mind fixing something."

"Uh," He looks in awe at the size of the kitchen.

When he pauses you make a shooing motion with your hands before going to sit at the counter. You watch him move off to look through the fridge and cupboards as you say, "I'm assuming you'll want to spend the night here Jason?"

"Really?!"

"Really really, I'll make sure we have a room set up for you with a nice warm shower waiting for you." You pause just for Alfred to walk in.

"Hello Mrs.Wayne," he didn't question you being in here at odd hours anymore.

"Hi, Alfred," you say turning to look at him. He almost says something then he spots the small boy moving through the kitchen, with his arms full of different snacks and a cookie hanging out of his mouth. "Alfred this is Jason. Jason Alfred," you introduce them, gaining a look from Alfred, and Jason waves. "Bruce brought him home tonight after he found Jason trying to borrow his tires."

Alfred just nods before looking at Jason again, and then he pauses for another moment, "master Jason I apologize, but I am going to have to object to your choice in food." He moves over and takes some of the things out of a confused Jason's arms, "what sounds good? I will fix you a meal."

Jason pauses and looks at you.

"Jason, if you remember anything from tonight, remember the fact that Alfred finds the idea of junk food impossible to handle. If you want to eat junk don't let him catch you," you say with a laugh and teasing smile as you get up and take the rest of the food from Jason's arms.

When you return from putting stuff away Bruce is standing in the doorway watching Jason quietly talk to Alfred and figure out something to eat. You move to his side and put your arms around him, joining him in watching. "So?" You ask, knowing he has reason behind why he brought the kid back here.

"He was stealing my tires. Probably wanted to sell them," he says softly, "he said he doesn't have anyone, I've seen him around a few other times, thought he was just sneaking out at night," Bruce pauses for another moment before getting to the point of all of this, "I just thought, it's been quiet here since Dick moved out..."

You remain quiet as Bruce pulls you against his side, "yeah, it has been quiet since Dick moved to Bludhaven... did you get tired of the quiet?" You ask with a slightly teasing tone, unable to keep everything serious.

"Yeah," Bruce says, knowing you know what he is thinking.

"If he wants to stay, he's welcome too, I've always told you that. There's so many kids out there that need somewhere good to call home and I'd take them all if I could."

"I know, and I love you for that," Bruce says gently, pressing a kiss into the side of your head.

You step away from him and go back over to Jason and Alfred, "hey Jason, how about we go get you cleaned up while Alfred gets the food going?"

You ask and nod over your shoulder for Jason to follow, "uh- okay," he says somewhat hesitantly, noticing the more serious tone to your voice.

Bruce pulls you into a quick kiss before saying, "I'm going to go make sure everything is finished up, then I'll be back."

"Sounds good," you say kissing him once more for good measure before heading off with Jason. The manor had many wings to it, but for the most part you all lived in just one of them. The door to Dick's old room is closed and you walk right past it and into the next room down.

Once in the room you turn to Jason and just say, "you can stay here... just for tonight if you want, if you want to stay longer you're welcome too, I just don't want you being out on the streets alone, alright?"

"U-uh, alright..." he says somewhat hesitantly.

You move towards him, "Jason, I want you to listen and know that I'm completely serious, if you want to just stay the night you can. If you decide you want to stay longer you can do that as well. Our son moved out a few months ago and there's plenty of room. You think about it and hop in the shower, I'll go grab some of Dick's clothes so you can find something clean to wear."

You ruffle his hair and turn to leave only to be stopped by two arms grabbing you in a hug. You turn and face Jason who had grabbed you, wrapping him in your arms as well, just for him to ask, "you'd really want me?"

The way he asks breaks your heart. "Yes, everyone needs somebody and somewhere. This can be your somewhere and I'll be your somebody."

"I think I'd like that," he says gently and you squeeze him a little tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Okay, kiddo, I'll go tell Bruce, you get cleaned up, and then we'll get you fed."

Jason turns his head so you can't see his face well, but he nods as he rubs at his cheek, "alright."

With that you close the door behind you and head back to the kitchen. Alfred is cooking and Bruce has returned from is final check through, making sure everything was set for the night.

You head towards him, ready to wrap your arms around him but he doesn't give you much of a choice as he scoops you up into his arms and holds you tightly against him. You tilt your head back and look up at him, "Jason said he'd like to stay... he was so surprised that anyone would want him."

Bruce kisses you, "well we do. We always will as long as he wants to be wanted."

"I love you," you say gently.

"I love you as well."

"We'll have to be careful to not scare him off, he hasn't had much love given to him in his life, but as soon as he is ready we will be sure to fix that. I'm sure Dick would love to have a little brother..."

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #batfam #batfam x you #batfam x batmom #batfam x y/n #batfam x reader #Batman #batman x you #batmom #batmom reader #batman x batmom #batman x batmom!reader

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halaboyz · 3 years

Text

–– BOOK // SAN.

pairing: non-idol! san x gn! reader genre: fluff word count: 2.7k warnings: profanities, poorly written, no more that i know of

“hongjoong, is the book back?” you hesitantly ask, giving your friend, the librarian- hongjoong, an apologetic smile.

“hey y/n..” he reflected your smile, “sorry. it still isn’t,” he pouts at you, scanning the borrowed books log sheet.

you sigh and throw your head back, growing frustrated.

you see, there’s one book series you’ve been reading and it’s been exactly one month since you’ve last read the second book of the series. the next book, harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban, is still yet to be returned.

“come on,” you groan, throwing a fit in front of hongjoong. “don’t you have another copy for that? the other library is miles away and i really, really want to finish the series soon,”

“okay, first of all,” hongjoong chuckled. “the harry potter series is hella expensive, y/n. second, just wait for it then, i know who borrowed it, i’ll just tell them off for you,” he winks, patting your forehead lightly with a book.

“who is it anyway? i’d love to tell them off myself,” you huffed, raising your eyebrow.

“it’s choi san,” hongjoong laughs when your face scrunched, “you don’t know him, do you?” you shake your head, “he’s a friend of mine. i’ll make sure to make him give it back to you the moment i tell him, okay? now go back home, it’s getting kind of late and i have a date,” he winks, leaving you all pouty on the reception table.

after throwing a few glances at the books in front of you, you decided to go home after giving hongjoong a small wave.

reminiscing the small bits of the second book of harry potter to stop yourself from forgetting it, you have already arrived in your apartment to see tons of boxes beside yours.

“oh,” the landlady opens her door to take out some trash just in time, smiling at you. “yeah, you’ll have a new neighbor! he was in a rush and instantly got that room a while ago so i didn’t have time to tell you.”

“it’s okay, i’m not much of a socializer myself,” you share a chuckle, and after a small talk, you finally let her do her chores and you finally enter your house, after taking another glance at all of the boxes in front of your neighbor’s door.

wouldn’t hurt to say your greetings tomorrow.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you continued to mumble under your breath, grabbing everything insight that you could think you needed.

you started scrambling around your flat when you woke up late, caused by your alarm not going off.

“holy mother of god!” you exclaim the moment you step out of the doors, broad shoulders and wide chest greeting you. you gasp exaggeratedly, looking up to meet the man’s eyes.

you gasp for the second time, swallowing the lump on your throat that stops you from forming words. the man in front of you anxiously smiles, his dimples showing making your knees weak.

“uh, hi,” he mumbles, tiptoeing and pressing his lips to a thin line.

“hi!” you unintentionally squeal, widening your eyes. “mmh, hello.” you regain your composure, smiling at him, “you’re my new.. neighbor!”

“yeah!” he gave off the same amount of excitement, grinning at you and it may be early, too early to gawk at him and say you’d grown a little crush on your new, cute but at the same time, very very hot neighbor.

“holy fucking shit,” you mumble as you felt your phone vibrating, a call incoming from probably one of your friends to remind you that you.. “i have a class in five fucking minutes,” you gear yourself to run, patting him in the arm, “i’ll see you again! bye!” you wave your hands as you look back at him, already forming an apology to the professor for being late.

“what the fuck did you do that you’re late for almost half an hour?” yunho drags you to your seat, your readied apology faded away as you managed to sneak into an available seat yunho saved beside him.

“my alarm didn’t go off,” you quickly mumble, taking your book and notes out of your bag,

“sucks to be you,” yunho sighs, watching you with squinted eyes.

“oh hell no, i love today, even.” you smirk at him, leaning closer to whisper. “my new neighbor.. is hot. one hundred percent hot, another hundred percent cute,” you quietly squeal, hitting your friend’s arm.

“stop, it hurts,” yunho grasps your arm, making you attend to the class going on. “fangirl later, listen first,” yunho winks, and you smile at him in excitement, feeling good even though your day started shitty.

“so.. how’s he again?” yunho sits in front of you with his food tray, giddily waiting for you. “are you finally getting a partner? oh my god,”

“okay well, first, like i said- how can someone be so hot and cute at the same fucking time?” you rhetorically ask, taking a bite of your own food. “his shoulders- woah,” you gasp, “it’s,” you try to imitate the measurement of the man’s shoulders with your hands, “...so wide,” you almost growled, and yunho almost choked laughing at you.

“what’s his name?” yunho asks the million-dollar question, making you gasp for the nth time today.

“i didn’t get it,” you shrink on your seat, pouting. “i’d see him again anyway, there’s no rush.”

“yeah, you can get it later,” yunho assures, rubbing your hand. “by the way, have you gotten the book?”

just when you thought you had your day going well, you frowned at the sound of book again.

“i still haven’t,” you scrunched your nose, “fucking choi san and his slow reading,”

“oh, choi san?” yunho perks from his seat, interested. “he’s a friend,”

“of course he is, hongjoong and you are friends, of course, the social butterfly is friends even with hongjoong’s friends,” you snicker playfully, finishing your food to head out to the library once again.

“oh, y/n!” hongjoong excitedly greets you with a light hug, and seeing him all jumpy with you made you excited too.

“is it back? is it back?” you poke his side, jumping.

“no! but the one who borrowed it is here! right timing,” he leads you to a shelf of books and seeing the familiar back and broad shoulders, you gasp, and you could only imagine the amount of oxygen you have inhaled today.

“you?!” you immediately frowned, unintentionally shouting which made hongjoong cover your mouth.

the man in question turns his tense body to you, sees your familiar face, and instantly smiles.

“oh hey! i just realized i didn’t get your na-,”

“choi san.” you said through gritted teeth, “where the hell is the book?!” you questioned right away, pushing his shoulder.

san shifts his eyes to you and hongjoong, begging for help.

“w-what book..” he slouches, as if it made him smaller beside you.

“hongjoong!” you whined, turning back to hongjoong. “you still haven’t told him?” huffing, you get the box of the harry potter series and showed him the missing part, pushing the book on his chest.

“oh! the prisoner of azkaban book!” he enlivens for a second before he faces you, the smile instantly drops. you get a glance at his dimple and you just need to.. raise your finger and.. poke.

san stops on what he’s doing, frozen. same as hongjoong, frozen but concealing his laugh as he stared at the both of you.

just a minute later have you realized that you indeed, poked his.. dimple.

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..

your nose twitches, tightening your jaw, and presses on his cheek further.

“you! where the hell is the prisoner of azkaban?!” you say through gritted teeth, only craning your neck after a few seconds of processing your words.

“probably in jail?” san mutters, trying to lighten the atmosphere with his smile again and you thank the gods you haven’t taken your finger off his cheek as you felt his dimple slowly showing.

you clicked your tongue, and you could finally hear hongjoong laughing to his heart’s content. seeing your jaw dropped, hongjoong finally makes his way to detach you from the tense man.

“cut the man some slack, y/n,” he chuckles, “he’s packed,”

packed.. like? packed body?

“time, y/n, time.” hongjoong, as if reading your mind, smirked at you. “he borrowed it last time he visited, now that he moved here after a heartbreak, you’ll be able to get it soon,” he pats your arm, nodding at san. “right, san?”

san nods delightedly, shifting his eyes to you and hongjoong.

“yeah, and apparently he moved beside mine too,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes but can’t help feeling happy at the fact that you’ll be seeing san around more.

“that’s nice then! you’re friends with my friends here,” hongjoong pointed at you, “we should hang out sometime! all together!” hongjoong clapped, thrilled at the plans he had made himself.

“only if he gives me back the book,”

“i can give it to you later!” san beams, jumping on his place with a big, big smile.

“now, why don’t you guys head home for today?” hongjoong bites his lip to suppress his smile, pushing the both of you out of the library.

you glared at san and he instantly flinches, you had started to walk home.

“hey, uh,” san catches up with you, fiddling with his hands. “sorry about the book,”

you stopped on your tracks, squinting your eyes at him.

“you’re lucky you’re cute.” you hiss, craning your neck at him.

san immediately freezes and feels his cheeks warm, a small smile crawling up his lips.

at least i didn’t say you’re hot.

you thought, beating yourself inside.

“thanks.. i guess..” san muttered, looking down to hide his smile.

you chuckle, reaching your hand out.

“we haven’t properly introduced yet,” you smile, “i’m y/n.” san shakes your hand introducing himself back. “so.. a heartbreak?” you started walking again, san beside you.

“hongjoong’s such a chatterbox,” he sighs, then he glances at you, giving a small smile. “mutual breakup, that is,” he slowly nods, heaving a deep breath.

“ah.. sorry,” you quickly muttered, pressing your lips to a thin line.

“no need to, it’s just..” he tries to find words, “really nothing. we both felt like drifting apart and i think that’s completely normal!” he defended a pitch higher, making you jump.

“okay then, normal!” you assured, leaning back unconsciously.

“sorry..” he mumbles and you hum in response, a small laugh escaping your lips. “it’s been almost a year and i just found the company of my friends really enticing so when they asked me to move here, i didn’t hesitate,” he explains further, and you nod at him, pursing your lips.

silence engulfed the both of you again until you’ve arrived in your flats, stopping you. “do you want to go inside and have a drink? i’ll bring you the book,” he smiles, offering. “i mean, if you’re still uncomfortable i can just give you the book right now, right now!” his high voice made you burst into a fit of chuckles, and you could only smile at him.

“i would love a drink, san,” you nod.

he welcomes you with the biggest smile and a dimple, offering you to sit on the couch while you wait for him. you look around his flat, loving the warmth it emitted even if there are still unpacked boxes in the corner and the fact that he just moved in.

“i love it here,” before you could stop your running mouth, san had already stopped in front of you with your drinks.

“please, you’re welcome anytime.” san feels butterflies in his stomach, but he isn’t going to tell you that. at least, not yet.

it’s too early.

you didn’t know if he meant it platonically, but you could almost feel your heart beating out of your ribcage. you simply smiled, taking his offered drink.

“let me just get the book.. out,” he sighs, taking a box out of the corner and rummaging through others.

you peeked curiously, gasping yet once more, to see at least five boxes full of books.

“what.. the hell,” you mumble, letting your fingers trail over the piles and piles of books. “are these all yours?”

“yeah, though i haven’t read all of it,” he chuckles, “i just have a terrible hold of myself when buying books that get my interest so.. here we are,” he waves his hands in front of the boxes. “ah, let me show you something,” he drags you to a room, and if you think you’ve gasped enough for today, this was something more to gasp on.

“you.. have a whole ass library.. on your apartment..” you mumbled, letting your feet wander around as san watched you admirably, leaning on the doorsill with his arms crossed over his chest. there are already books on the shelf, the boxes in the living room with unpacked books long forgotten as if a spell was onto you the moment you have entered this room.

the instant san realized he’s been staring at you too much, he perked on his position and walked back to the living room, finding the prisoner of azkaban.

“here!” san holds the book and pushes himself up, only to stumble back after meeting your frail body being so close to him. after san left you in the room, you had caught a glimpse of him leaving so you followed him, not wanting to overuse his welcoming presence of letting you wander in his own house.

peeking over his shoulder, you watched him rummage through the boxes until he found it, not expecting him to jump hastily and bump in your body, making you tumble. san’s hands were faster and immediately took ahold of your waist, balancing you.

“i’m sorry!” he quickly removes his hands after you stand up, handing you the book.

“it’s okay, you practically saved me from banging on a sharp corner,” you giggled, pouting to point at the sharp edge of his coffee table. you flip to the pages of the book, getting your things. “since i already got what i want,” you faced him, “i should get going. i don’t want to disturb you too much,”

san was too preoccupied busy calming his heart with what just happened.

“sure,” he mumbles, walking you to your door with his hands tucked in his pockets. because if not, he’ll probably be fidgeting with it.

“thank you again, i’ll see you around san,” you smiled at him, and san almost swooned at the way his name flowed out of your lips.

“uh, y/n,” he calls out before you close your door,

“yeah?” you bite the insides of your cheek to stop your growing smile, looking at him expectantly.

“y’know..” san anxiously bites on his lower lip, “as you may have seen, i have tons and tons and tons,” he drags the last word, explaining it with his hands making you chuckle, “..of books and.. it was really nice meeting you.. and uh,”

is this your way of telling me hey, y/n, you can come whenever you want, san?” you smirked slyly, waiting for him to respond.

well, the only response you got is his wide eyes and red ears- and that was enough.

“yeah.. i mean.. yeah.. that.. yeah,” he stutters, looking back at you with puppy eyes.

“i’d love to be your company, san. that would be very nice,” anyone could sense you liked each other, the small smiles and the anxious fidgeting of fingers giving it away.

“even if it takes me forever to finish those books?” he raises his eyebrows, a smile finally settled in his face as his dimples showed again.

“even if it takes forever,” you much him, winking.

maybe it was early, too early.. but the both of you can’t help liking each other. is it what they call love at first sight?

you don’t know, but you were certain you did like the man the moment you closed your door, staring at the harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban on your hands, continuous chuckles coming out of your lips.

and san was certain he liked you too when he washed his face and looked at the mirror, his dimple faintly showing and reminiscing the incident awhile ago, in the library- making his dimple fully show, a light laugh bursting from within.

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andtheyreonfire · 3 years

Text

to make the meaning come through

oh yeah writing exists

Word count: 2,668

Ao3 Link

Warnings: None? Mild bewitchment? This is pure fluff and gayness and not much else.

Curled up against a couch pillow, Logan was struck with the feeling that something was wrong.

It was the feeling of walking into your room and finding your belongings slightly off-kilter. Like someone came in, rummaged around, and left after deciding the mismatched stacks were close enough to the original thing. The back of Logan's neck prickled.

Something was off.

The borrower shook his head. Superstition was an unproductive venture created to ward against bored witches and the occasional fae. He hadn’t felt the need to listen to his instincts for a while, even if this wasn’t the familiar jolt of fear or need to hide coursing through his veins.

Besides, the only dangerous thing around here was Roman.

Roman, who owned the shop of Logan’s previous residence, and who’s first reaction to finding a borrower was to flirt with him. Roman, whom Logan began bantering with against his better judgement, and who he found himself growing fond of. Roman, the strange, infuriating, intoxicating human that Logan currently lived with.

Roman, who, judging by the creak of their cottage door, had just arrived home.

“Hello, my sweetest honeybee! It’s so wonderful to see you again, my love!” A boisterous voice boomed out.

Roman must’ve had a good day at work. Certainly nothing to be worried about. The borrower allowed a small smile to slip onto his face.

“It’s wonderful to see you as well, my prince,” Logan said.

Or at least, he tried to say, because before he could finish, a wall of flesh scooped him up and away from solid ground.

Logan blinked.

Confusion struck like a dull cord when Roman’s chest filled his vision. When was the last time he’d been manhandled without permission? When was the last time Roman had done so? Despite being one of the loudest humans Logan had ever met, he the first to ever listen to him, and respected his boundaries like a code of honor.

Suddenly, horror filled Logan when a warm, soft surface began rubbing against him, and with a start, he realized the human was nuzzling him.

Logan squirmed, only managing to free an arm before pressure enveloped him and the nuzzling continued. He gave one of Roman’s fingers a pat before asking, voice strained, “What’re you—doing there, ah, Roman?”

The human brought the borrower up to his face, mouth fluttering down into a pout. Logan froze.

Something was wrong.

Maybe it was the way Roman was cupping him, holding Logan like he was the most valuable treasure one could ever lay eyes on. Maybe it was the way Logan found himself blinded by Roman’s smile, or the way eyes were filled with so, so much love.

Or maybe it was how Roman purred, voice honey-slick and twice as sweet, “Can’t I show my undying love for my spectacular, talented, breathtaking sugar pea?”

Oh, God.

Logan gave Roman’s finger a hesitant squeeze. The human brightened further, and gave the borrower a gentle squeeze in return. Logan finally stuttered out, “Roman, are you—are you alright? Is something wrong? Why are you doing all...this?”

Roman paused, dopey look still on his face, before he cooed, “The only thing that’s wrong is how gosh-darn adorable my boyfriend is.”

Logan didn’t have time to protest before a massive finger booped him on the nose. He pushed it away only for another one, Roman’s thumb, to start petting his hair.

Logan swallowed. Were Roman’s hands always this warm or was it just him?

“Did something happen at work today, uh, darling?” Logan asked, trying and failing to ignore the gentle caressing. He wasn’t sure if his boyfriend would even stop if he asked. “Did something change? Are you okay?”

Logan looked up to see Roman doing his best impression of a puddle. “The only thing that changed was when I met you, my galaxy.”

“N—no, I mean like—” Logan resisted the urge to groan. “You’re not usually this...affectionate.”

“What do you mean, love? Why wouldn’t I be this loving towards my smart, stunning sweetheart? You light up my world, sunshine, you’re—you’re—”

Roman sniffed. What was most likely his partner’s other thumb brushed up against Logan’s side. “I—I just—”

Logan realized with a shock of horror that Roman was crying. Over how much he loved the borrower. Logan’s eyes widened.

This was worse than he thought.

“Y—you’re so handsome and talented, lovebug,” Roman blubbered. Logan tried, foolishly, to shy away. His boyfriend’s fingers curled around him. The borrower gave them a reassuring pat. “You do—you do so much. You're so good. You’re so—so good.”

Roman’s inane—and, well, utterly touching—whimpering faded to white noise as Logan noticed the human’s eyes.

His glowing, spiraling, wrong eyes.

“Roman!” Logan blurted as realization struck, both of the situation and of the fact that Roman was about to continue nuzzling him. He repressed a shudder. “Roman. Could you—could you do me a favor?”

Roman paused, before he whispered, voice almost as soft as the look in his eyes, “Anything for you, my darling.”

Logan glanced away at the intensity of Roman’s gaze, knowing if he stared too long into the swirling abyss, he’d never look away again.

“Could you get me one of the magic books from the shelf?” he asked. “The one with the rose on it?”

Roman made a noise in the back of his throat. “But—but that would mean setting you down! Seeing you go! Not being with you!”

“It’ll just be for a moment. Please, Roman.”

Roman bit his lip, brow furrowing in way that it did when the human was lost in thought. Suddenly, the human’s eyes brightened, and with a gush of air the borrower found himself with a side view of his boyfriend’s face.

“There!” Logan could feel Roman’s voice, vibrating up his legs and through his entire body. Set on a shoulder, then. Better than not moving at all. “Now we can still be together!”

Logan sighed, gripping onto Roman’s shirt, and they began to move.

After grabbing A Scholar’s Guide to Solutions and Spells, Roman made his way over to the table and sat down. Logan dangled his legs over his partner’s shoulder, about to slide off, only to be met with a hand hovering below him. Not sure how Roman would react if he didn’t take it, Logan scooted himself into the awaiting palm.

The borrower braced himself for the familiar drop of his stomach, but it didn’t come. The hand was still moving, but slowly, painfully so. Not even the lifts Logan had built for himself around the house operated at the snail’s pace Roman’s hand did. Logan sighed, knowing it would be too quiet for the human to hear.

After the mental equivalent of half a century, they landed. Logan crawled off of his partner’s palm, giving an awkward smile to the human above. Roman beamed back.

Suddenly, a warm, fleshy material enveloped Logan from behind. Roman’s gaze was soft, and the borrower realized he was cupping him, cherishing him one would like a precious jewel. Roman leaned down to lay his head in the crook of his arm, inches away from his treasure.

“Roman.” Logan shifted against the warm weight around his back. “I can’t exactly read with you like...this.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, darling! Let me just—” Roman’s hand moved to rub the back of his neck. He looked between the tome and Logan, and frowned. “Do you need any help with the book, Lobear? It’s pretty big!”

“I’ll be fine, please don’t worry.” The book was, in fact, big, almost too big for a borrower such as himself to use. Fortunately, Logan was used to operating in a world not built for him. He took a breath, and began the process of heaving pages almost twice the size of his body up and over his head. Immediately a chorus of ‘You’re so strong, my love!’ and ‘Look at you go!’s chimed out behind him.

Things could be worse. At least Roman wasn’t snuggling him. Yet.

As Logan arrived at the section on persuasion magic, he decided to break Roman’s stream of gushing. “What did you do at work today, Roman?”

The human paused. His eyelids drooped. A grin slid onto his face. “Think about you, my light, my love, my—”

“Aside from that.” Logan interrupted, before dropping the page he’d been tugging. “Did you meet anyone strange? Ingest anything odd?”

“Well...” Roman trailed off. “We did receive a shipment of rather funny potions this morning. They were all red and swirly, and they smelled like roses. Probably made from them, too.”

Logan perked up. “Did you happen to get any on you?”

“One of the bottles was leaking so I threw it out. Probably wasn’t the best idea but—”

“How did you feel afterwards? Strange? Elated?”

“I...It was like I was hit with a tidal wave. I remember it now. I could hardly think of anything but you.” Logan heard a rustle of movement behind him. When he turned to look, Roman was leaning forward on his elbows, eyebrow raised. “Darling, what is all this about? You’re breathtaking. You know that.”

Logan beckoned him forward. Roman obeyed, leaning closer until his nose brushed up against Logan’s chest. His eyes darted past the borrower’s shoulder, keying in on the page he stood on.

Roman paused.

After a beat, he laughed, stilted and awkward. “Nothing’s wrong, is there? Is there something wrong with me, Logan?”

Logan patted his nose, before making a shooing gesture towards his partner. The human complied, moving his head off the page. “Nothing serious, I hope. The logical assumption I can make is that the potion you interacted with is responsible for your new...behavior.”

Roman tilted his head. “Behavior?”

Logan glanced back. Even through the confusion, a hint of that dopey, lovestruck look painted his partner’s face. Roman was looking at him as if Logan were worth more than all the gold in the world could buy, as if Roman was completely, utterly his.

Logan willed his knees not to go weak.

He turned back to the book, focusing on dragging another page across its surface. A grin slid on his face as the answer to this strange afternoon presented itself.

“Yes; behavior. And I think,” He beckoned Roman forward. “This may have had a part in that.”

Roman peered over the borrower’s shoulder, though the action was probably unnecessary considering said shoulder was smaller than his own eye. Logan felt the human swallow behind him. “A love potion?”

Logan shook his head. “The concoction acts more to induce an autosuggestion state, amplifying the bearer’s pre-existing inclinations in accordance to the intensity of the sample. Though the enchantment is most conventionally used for romantic or...other such feelings, it can be used to increase any emotion depending on tweaks made to...”

Roman blinked, uncomprehending.

Logan sighed, before muttering, “Yes. It’s a love potion.”

Roman’s eyes widened. He brought his hand up to his mouth. “I suppose I have been feeling a little...buzzed, today. Almost fluttery. I—I thought that was just my love for you.”

“In a sense, it was. It’s most likely a side effect of the hex, and should wear off when the spell does.”

Roman fell silent, processing. When Logan turned to look at him, he was deflated, solemn, like a puppet with its strings cut. When his partner he caught Logan’s eye, he choked. “Do I not love you enough normally?”

Oh.

Logan shook his head, and the first genuine smile of the afternoon slipped onto his face.

“On the contrary, my prince,” he began. “While I understand that sometimes we can, ah, figuratively butt heads, I know you love me more than anything else. You care for me, let me stay here don’t mind my rituals. You listen to me, and don’t expect me to treat you more, or demand anything because of your size. More than that, there’s something I feel around you. Even when we’re not together my thoughts are often occupied by you...and I know you feel the same way, too.”

By the end of it, Logan had rested his forehead against the bridge of Roman’s nose, gazing into his eyes the best he could. Roman sniffed, unshed tears threatening to spill. The borrower sighed as a warm weight settled behind him. Hexed or not, this was still his stupid, wonderful Roman. Logan smiled.

And was immediately caught off-guard as Roman pulled him forward and kissed him.

Oh.

A curious thing it was that Logan, a borrower of eloquence and articulation, found few words to describe the sensation of Roman’s lips covering his body.

Warm, he thought as found himself melting against the plush surface. Soft, lingered in his mind as he buried his face into the kiss. Heaven, was all the came at the intoxicating sensations, the scent of cherries Roman ate for lunch wafting over him, the taste of the rose lip product he liked to use overwhelming. Logan shivered as a thumb ran down his back. Liquified as wave of euphoria coursed through his veins. Felt the last coherent thoughts he had shrivel up at Roman’s pure, radiant love.

Finally, the rational part of Logan’s brain sighed—too soon, the instinctive part screamed—the couple parted.

Logan collapsed against Roman’s hand, face scorching.

Roman sniffed. Logan hardly heard what he said next over the pounding of his heart. “That was really, really sweet, Honey-Pie. I do love you, to the—the moon and back.” He paused to wipe his eyes. “Thank you, Logan—Logan?”

If there was anything that would snap Logan out of his gay panic, it was a gentle finger almost the length of his body maneuvering his head up. He stared, wide-eyed, into Roman’s beautiful, beautiful swirling gaze.

Logan, a borrower of eloquence and articulation, squeaked.

“Was that too much, my love?” Roman asked, a concern and a hint of amusement in his voice.

Logan’s tongue was too busy feeling like it was about to fall out of his mouth to form words. He nodded.

Roman’s expression softened. He gave Logan a gentle squeeze. “I’ll give you a moment, starshine.”

With a finale ruffle of his boyfriend’s hair—and a completely un-high pitched, non-existent yelp—Roman departed, leaving Logan on the table, alone.

The borrower took a deep breath, before collapsing to his knees and burying his face in his hands.

He exhaled. Took another breath and tried to ignore the way it tasted like flowers. Released that one with a shudder and a whimper.

In.

And out.

Breathe. Don’t think about all-consuming warmth or the smell of cherries the strangest, softest embrace or Roman—

After a few moments of being the epitome of the verb flustered, Logan hauled himself up and walked back over to the book, skimming the tome for any information he missed while being...distracted. He sighed, relieved, when he found the section on effect length.

The good news was the potion wasn’t permanent, and would, at most, wear off in the next 16 hours.

The bad news was that based on when Roman had encountered the solution, it would likely last for the rest of the day.

Logan glanced up at the sound at heavy footsteps, eyes meeting only a torso and hips. He craned his head back to find Roman looming over the table, massive shadow enveloping the borrower. In one hand, a finger was looped around an ornate teacup. In the other, the human delicately pinched Logan’s favorite mug, willing his hands not to squeeze too hard or too light.

Noticing his presence, Roman took a seat across from Logan. The shadow vanished, and Logan found a cup of sweet-smelling liquid in front of him.

“I made blackberry and pomegranate,” Roman said, voice low as not to damage his boyfriend's hearing. Logan was struck with how brightly Roman’s eyes shone, full of passion and light and love. “Your favorite.”

Oh, who was he kidding, Logan had been enchanted since day one.

#my writing #sanders sides #sanders sides g/t #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t fanfiction #logan sanders #roman sanders #logince #romantic logince #infinitesimal!sides #borrowers #tooth-rotting fluff #love potions #borrower!logan #human!roman #get out of my drafts get out of my drafts begone foul demon #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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x-reader-theater · 3 years

Text

A Shakespearean Soliloquy in Two Parts

Relationship: Asexua!Spemcer Reid x Asexual!Male!Reader

Summary: “Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” William Shakespeare, Julius Ceaser

Warnings: Scool shooting, asexual Spencer Reid and reader, implied autism.

Word Count: 7520 words

A/N: To be frank, I meant to post this at like, three pm. Also Asexual Spencer Reid owns my ass and I will only write him as such. Please enjoy. Edited by the outstanding, amazing, show stopping @mystic-writes . I love you please forgive me for forgetting.

"Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream" –A Midsummer Night's Dream

"Hey, Shelly," you say with a smile at the small book store you are currently checking out in. "Good to see you again."

"You as well! Only one book this week?" Shelly asks and you nod.

"Yeah. I have too much work to do, so I can't focus on more than one book," you say.

She scans your book and you pay quickly. She hands you the book back and says with a smile, "Enjoy your book!"

You nod and turn around quickly, taking a step, before colliding with someone. The books in their hands go crashing to the floor, and you do as well, crying out as you land suddenly on your tailbone, and stars flash before your eyes.

"I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have been that close and I wasn't paying attention, and I should have been looking where I was going and-" you hold up a hand to silence the man who was speaking a mile a minute in front of you.

"Really, it's okay. It was my fault," you say, wincing as you try and get up.

The man holds out a hand out and you take it. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He takes his hand back almost immediately once you're standing and you smile. "No, not really. Just bruised my tailbone," you say and the man sighs.

You lean down and pick up a couple of the books he was carrying, and when you go to the last book, his fingers brush yours. You look up and see your faces are inches from one another, and you feel your face heating up. You see him blush as well and you both pull your hands away. You stand up so he can grab the last book and you shove the books you're holding into his arms.

"Sorry again!" you say, not looking at him, and you leave because you can’t embarrass yourself any more.

It isn't until you're in your car that you realize you gave him your book as well.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love." –Hamlet

You walk into the Alley Cat Café, a new café that just opened a block from your flat that also offered an area where you could hang out with adoptable cats. You never went in there because you would just adopt all of them and you didn't have the time for that right now.

You walk into the café and the little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival. You walk up to the counter and order your regular, the Calico Chai, and pay before finding a seat near the back close to the window where you could watch the cats. Your order is called, and as you get up, you look over to a table, and see a very familiar man reading a book at a remarkable speed.

You distractedly grab your tea and go back to your table, gathering up your things before plopping yourself next to the man.

"Hello again!" you exclaim and he jumps, looking up from his reading to glare at whoever interrupted him.

When he locks eyes with you, however, his eyes widen. "Oh! Hello!" he exclaims and a small smile forms on his lips.

"I think I may have given you my book on Tuesday," you say sheepishly, and his eyes widen even more and his mouth drops open adorably.

He turns and fishes around in his bag, before turning back to you and holding out a book in both hands. "I've been carrying it around with me hoping to give it back to you," he says, blushing, and you grin, taking the book from his hands, your fingers brushing his.

"Well, thank you," you say, grabbing the large book.

"So, the complete works of Shakespeare, huh?" the man asks and you nod.

"Yeah. I've never actually owned a copy before," you say. "I've only taken it out from the library or borrowed it from friends. I actually wanted to major in Shakespearean studies in college before ultimately deciding to go another way." The man nods, and silence falls over you for a moment before you say, "You know, I never got your name."

"Oh! Doctor Spencer Reid," he says with a wave.

You wave back and say, "Doctor [Y/N] [L/N]."

"What's your doctorate in?" he asks, excited.

You reply, "Biological Anthropology. I teach it at Georgetown."

"That's where I got my PHD in Chemistry," Spencer says and you grin.

"Really? When was that?" you ask.

"Thirteen years, two months, six days, and seventeen hours ago," he says and you blink owlishly.

You think for a moment before saying, "You must have been really young when you got that."

He nods. "I was seventeen. It was my second PHD. I have three. One in mathematics, one in chemistry, and one in engineering. I also have five BAs."

You stare at him for a moment, not saying anything, before you whisper, "That's really impressive." You feel your cheeks heat up. "I didn't get my PHD until I was nearly 25."

"I have an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words a minute," he says and you smile.

"You're one of a kind, Spencer Reid," you say, holding your book to your chest. "That must have been a very lonely childhood though," you remark, and he looks away from you. He nods but doesn't say anything. "What do you do now?"

"I'm a profiler with the FBI in their behavioral analysis unit," he explains and you smile.

"Maybe I'll have you come in and lecture to one of my classes some time," you say and he smiles. "Though Biological Anthropology isn't very exciting to anyone but me…" you look away and scratch the back of your neck, but Spencer assuages your fears.

"Actually, I find it quite interesting. I read an article the other day about how work stress is actually de-evolving humans, causing their bones to actually lose density, causing them more physical pain and inability to do physical tasks, as well as loss of sleep, appetite, and more," he says, and you grin.

"But, the study was only on French individuals, and it could have different results based on where the study is done. Like, in Japan for example, there may be the same amount of stress but they handle it better because in their culture, work is just a part of life and you have to deal with stress. Or in America, where we have different ways of dealing with stress that may cloud the findings," you add, and he nods.

"That is true, though you'd have to factor that into the initial hypothesis and-"

Spencer is cut off by his phone ringing. He picks it up and the phone call ends quickly.

"I'm so sorry to have to do this, but I have to go to work. We have a case," he says and you nod in understanding.

"Of course. It was nice talking to you Spencer. I hope we can talk again some time!" you exclaim.

A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I do too, [Y/N]."

You stare at each other for a couple moments before he turns around and leaves the café. You sip your now cold tea and realize you didn't get Spencer's number.

“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt." –Measure for Measure

You sit at the bar and nurse your glass of water as the music and lights cause a headache to split at your temples. You groan and massage your head, but it doesn't do anything to relieve the pain. You take another sip of your water, and look up to see a familiar face looking down at you.

"Co-workers bring you here too?" Spencer asks and you smile and nod.

"Yeah. It's Fiona's birthday today and she wanted to go to a club," you say, and Spencer sits down next to you. "I got dragged along. And apparently I got a splitting headache too."

"Do you want any help with that?" Spencer asks and you look at him, questioningly. "Turn around."

You do as he asks, slowly, and you feel his fingers lightly resting on your neck. You wince as he presses into your spine right where your head and neck meet, but after thirty seconds he releases, and your headache dissipates. You grin and turn around.

"How did you know to do that?" you ask.

He shrugs. "I had chronic migraines when I was younger, and I read a book on pressure points once," he explains and you nod in understanding.

"Right. You're a genius," you say with a forced smile and he frowns. You sigh. "You just…" you put a hand on his cheek, and he stiffens for a moment before relaxing into your touch. "You make me feel inferior. Like I'm just never going to do as well as you."

Spencer grabs your hand lightly and squeezes it, putting it away from your face as he looks into your eyes. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You're a doctor working at one of the best schools in the country," he says and you smile. He returns it. "And, don't compare yourself to me. I can read 20,000 words a minute. I'm a freak. You're more normal than I am."

"Spencer Reid, don't you ever say that again!" you exclaim, taking his other hand in your own. "You are not a freak!" He goes to protest but you take one of your hands from his grip and put it over his lips. "Nope. No arguing. What I say is final."

You pull your hand away and you see he's smiling. "Yes, Doctor," he says, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You grin, before gasping. He looks alarmed as you say, "Oh! I forgot!" he places his hands on your arms. "You didn't give me your number in the café!"

He sighs in what looks to be relief, before reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet. "You want to see a magic trick?"

You nod and he grins an adorable smile that has you grinning as well. He holds up a business card, probably his business card, and moves his hands in front of his face, and when they cross back over, the card is gone.

"Oh come on! It's behind your hand! I know this trick," you say, and he raises an eyebrow.

He opens up his fingers and turns his hand around, showing it's nowhere to be seen. Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops slightly in awe.

"Hey, I think you have something in your hair… right there…" he says, pointing to your left ear, and you reach up before he can touch you.

You feel something, and when you pull it out in front of you, you see it's Spencer's business card.

You laugh and flip the card over, checking to see if it's real or not. But it very much is.

"Wow Spencer, that's amazing!" you exclaim and his cheeks flare red. You take out your phone and put his number in, calling it. He looks up at you and you place your phone to your ear. He picks up and you say with a smile, "There. Now you have my number too."

"This sounds very strange, can I hang up now?" Spencer says out loud, and it's repeated in your ear only moments after. You laugh and nod, and the two of you hang up your phones.

Almost immediately, his phone starts ringing again, and you put up your hands in innocence.

"JJ," he says into the receiver, pausing for a moment, before saying quickly, "I'll be right there." He hangs up his phone and places it in his pocket, before saying quickly. "Sorry, that was work. I really have to go."

You smile and nod. "You have a job to do. Go save some lives." He smiles and turns to leave, but you call out, "Spencer!" he turns around and you stand up, lean forward, and place a kiss on his cheek. "For good luck."

He grins and walks out of the club. You watch as a couple more people file out, and sit back in your seat and finish your water.

"Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change." –Romeo and Juliet

You're flipping through papers when you hear someone call out to you.

"[Y/N]!" they shout and looking up you see Spencer Reid walking down the hallway towards you, a messenger bag slung around his shoulder. He was wearing something similar to what he was wearing in the club only two nights ago.

"Case ended early?" you ask and he nods.

"Yeah. Child abduction. We had less than forty eight hours to get the child back alive since the family didn't report her missing until twenty four hours had passed," he says.

"And did you? Get the child back alive, I mean," you ask and he nods. You grin.

"Oh, good. So! What are you doing here? You didn't come just to see me, did you?"

Spencer blushes and you place a hand on his arm. "No, Doctor Priya Chopra wanted my help on an article she's going to write about fungal growth on skin and the potential benefits it could have, as well as any side effects it may cause," he says and you nod.

"Well, I can show you to her office! She's new so it wouldn't have updated on any maps yet," you say and Spencer nods.

He stops and you halt in front of him, turning as he says, "Oh! Do you want me to carry any of your papers?"

You smile and shake your head. "No, it's okay. I'll just have to walk back anyways. My office is in the other direction."

"Oh, I don't want you to have to go out of your way. I can probably find it on my own…" Spencer trails off, looking helplessly at the myriad of plain beige hallways.

You shake your head and bump your shoulder with his. "Really. It's not a big deal. I want to do this," you say with a smile. He smiles back and you lead him down a couple hallways, until you stop at a door with a nameplate that reads, 'Dr. Priya Chopra, PHD'.

"Well, this is your stop," you say, almost sad with a slight slump to your shoulders. "With that eidetic memory of yours, I don't think you need me to show you around anymore."

Spencer places a hand on the small of your back and points at the paperwork in your arms. "You look like you could use a little help. How about I come by after my talk with Doctor Chopra? I know where your office is," he says and you grin.

"I would love that, Spencer," you say, and watch him until he disappears behind Doctor Chopra's door.

"One may smile, and smile, and be a villain." –Hamlet

You hear a knock at your door and you look up from your work to see a familiar head pop out from behind the door. You grin and say, "Parker! It's good to see you again! Come in."

The young man with dark circles under his eyes slowly walks into your office, he wrings his hands out in front of him, and sits down in the chair across from yours. He slowly takes his backpack off and reaches in, pulling out a grey folder. The movements were slow and methodical, but you can see the young man's hands shaking slightly as he does so. Finally, he pulls out a stapled stack of papers and holds it out to you.

You take it carefully and frown, looking it over. It was one of his essays that you just gave back a couple days ago with a big red 'F' on the front.

"Why did you fail me?" Parker whispers and you sigh.

You lean back in your chair, folding your fingers on your stomach as you say, "Your essay is all over the place. There isn't a coherent theme or message in any of it. Also, you should really find someone to help edit your grammar at least. You have misspellings and incorrect comma usage all over the place, Parker." The man in question looks down away from you and you sigh again, this time louder and lean forward onto your desk. "How about this. Go to the writing center on campus, find someone to help plan out your essay, and if you do a good job, I'll bump up your score to at least a B, if not more if you do really well, okay?"

Parker looks up at you and gives you a toothy, forced smile, almost as if he doesn't smile much in his life, and says, "Thank you, Mr. [Y/N]."

You smile and nod, handing the paper back to him, and just as someone knocks at your door, he gets up.

Opening the door, Parker comes face to face with Doctor Gerard Holden, professor of microbiology at Georgetown, and the man looks shocked for a moment before steeling his expression and saying over Parker's shoulder, "Dr. [L/N], do you have a minute to talk?"

You smile and nod, before addressing Parker again. "Parker, I want to see that essay on my desk in a week and a half at the most. I hope to see some improvement."

Parker doesn't turn around but he nods and slides out of your office as quickly as he can without touching Dr. Holden. When Parker leaves, the older man walks into your office and closes the door behind him.

"That boy is very strange. I don't know how you put up with him. I've had to kick him out of class before for being disruptive and talking out of turn," he says and you sigh.

"He's a good kid and an even better student. I bet if you pushed him a little more, and actually called on him in class, he wouldn't interrupt so much," you say and the doctor in front of you is pale. "But, I hope you didn't come here to discuss our students."

The man shakes his head and goes into a lengthy question about having you guest lecture during one of his classes. You agree quickly and get the time and date and what you'll be covering before Dr. Holden opens the door to your office.

You see Parker standing on the other side of the door, and you know he heard everything you and Dr. Holden discussed about him.

"They do not love that do not show their love." –The two Gentlemen of Verona

It's a Saturday. You and Spencer are sitting in your apartment reading. Spencer's stack next to him is significantly smaller than yours, and whenever he finishes a book, he places it on your stack. Whenever you finish yours, you place your book on the ground and pick up whatever book Spencer just finished reading.

It's nice.

"If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die." –Twelfth Night

"Come on! I don't want us to miss this!" Spencer exclaims, grabbing your hand, and pulling you along as he runs through the small park.

"Wait! Spencer! I didn't know we were running! I would have brought my inhaler!" you exclaim as you try and keep pace.

Spencer doesn't stop though as he says, "It's not far, now come on!" The two of you continue to run through the trees, and eventually you come upon a clearing. There are a few couples there, but not actually as many as you would have expected. The thing that shocks you the most are the group of college age students all standing around with boxes in their hands.

"Spencer what-"

"Shh!"

You step closer to him, still holding his hand as the students all step up, and take the tops off the boxes. Light start flying out of the uncovered cardboard boxes and you realize that they're lightning bugs.

You gasp as a swarm flies towards you before dispersing into a hazy cloud of blinking yellow and green emanating from the lower abdomen. You reach out and the bugs fly away from your hand in streaks of light and you laugh. You turn, grinning at Spencer's face. He's looking right at you.

In the low glow, you can see Spencer's handsome features on display. His cheekbones are softer in the light, his auburn hair a deep brown and his hazel eyes reflecting spots of green back at you. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek. He looks beautiful.

"What is this?" you ask, breathless.

He smiles softly and you look down at his lips. They look inviting. "The biology majors at Howard under Professor Trudy study fireflies for a semester before releasing them here. Did you know that many fireflies do not produce light? Usually these species are diurnal, or day-flying, such as those in the genus Ellychnia. A few diurnal fireflies that inhabit primarily shadowy places, such as beneath tall plants or trees, are luminescent. One such genus is Lucidota. Non-bioluminescent fireflies use pheromones to signal mates. This is supported by the fact that some basal groups do not show bioluminescence and use chemical signaling, instead. Phosphaenus hemipterus has photic organs, yet is a diurnal firefly and displays large antennae and small eyes. These traits strongly suggest pheromones are used for sexual selection, while photic organs are used for warning signals."

You're silent for a minute before you say, "You said firefly."

Spencer frowns. "Huh?"

"You said firefly. People around here say 'Lightning bug,' which means you're not from around here. Where are you from?" you ask, and his frown subsides.

"Las Vegas," he says and you smile.

"You're a long way from home," you reply, looking around at the lightning bugs floating lazily around you, taking in their new environment. You look back at him and say, "I'm glad you're here Spencer. I'm glad I ran into you at the book shop. Literally," you say, laughing lightly.

"Me too," Spencer says with a small smile on his face.

You lean up and kiss him, quickly, before pulling back, not really giving him a chance to react. He stares at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, before leaning in and capturing his lips in yours again. You lean against him, turning so your front is pressed against his, he places his hands on your hips and you thread yours through his hair and rest them on the back of his neck.

When you pull away, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but you're so lost in Spencer's eyes you hardly notice.

"I am not bound to please thee with my answers." –The Merchant of Venice

You jump as someone hits their bowl a little too hard with their spoon, causing a loud crashing noise it seems like only you can hear. You can feel your heart rate picking up as another person accidentally drops a glass on the floor, shattering it. Your eyes dart around as people talk loudly over one another, shouting to be heard over the low din of the restaurant.

"[Y/N]!"

You look up at Spencer sharply, your eyes going wide.

"Are you okay?" he asks, reaching a hand out. You nod but don't take his hand, instead picking at your nails underneath the table. "I was just talking about the underlying effects of corsetry in the modern era…" Spencer continues as if nothing is wrong but another loud crash causes you to jump and lose focus from him again.

You hear Spencer sigh and you look up at him, your cheeks flaming up. "Sorry…" you mutter.

"What's wrong?" he asks plainly.

"I-" you begin to say, but flinch as someone laughs loudly at a table nearby you. "I don't really like restaurants. They're too… loud."

Spencer looks at you with that blank stare for a moment before sighing in what you hope is of relief. "Same here. A co-worker of mine suggested I take you out to dinner and when I told him I don't like restaurants either, he just said you would," Spencer explains.

You frown. "Who did he think I was? We read books in your apartment all the time!"

Spencer looks away sheepishly and pulls his hands into his lap. "I haven't used pronouns for you, so he assumed you were a woman."

You snort. "Wouldn't be the first time." Spencer frowns at you. "I've dated a lot of bisexual men with straight colleagues. The co-workers always assume I'm a woman."

Spencer nods, and the two of you are silent once again in the loud restaurant. You flinch once more as something crashes together, and Spencer sighs.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asks, almost begging.

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes. Please. We can go back to mine?" Your eyes widen at that. "Not for sex!" you exclaim and a few people look over at you. You blush in embarrassment and say, quieter, "I-I just meant to read or watch a documentary or something. I didn't mean to imply."

Spencer smiles softly. "It's okay. I didn't even realize. I'm not sexually attracted to people."

Your eyes widen and you grin. "Me neither!"

Spencer grins with you and the two of you hastily pay and make a quick exit out of the busy restaurant.

"God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another." –Hamlet

"Mr. [L/N]?"

You jump and look up from your work and see Parker standing in your office. You put a hand over your heart and laugh. "Parker! You scared me!"

"Sorry…" he says, not making eye contact.

You chuckle as you say, "I should put a bell on you…" you see Parker flush a deep red but you ignore it. "So, what can I do you for?"

Silently, still red and blushing, Parker pulls out a stapled stack of papers from his backpack and holds it out to you. You take it and see it's the revised version of his essay you failed last week.

"I did want you asked…" he says quietly and you quickly look over the first page.

You smile up at him, grateful. "Thank you, Parker. I'll get it back to you by the end of the week-"

"NO!" he shouts and you jump at that.

"Parker, I have a lot of work to do and-"

But he cuts you off again, shouting, "No! Get it done now!"

You sigh, knowing he's not going to relent, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. "Okay. How about this. How many classes do you have left today?"

"Two…" Parker says, and you almost miss it seeing as he's so quiet.

You nod. "Okay. How about I work on it while you're in class and you can come back after."

Parker nods and without another word, leaves your office. You sigh loudly and lean your head into your hands.

"I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind." –Hamlet

That night, you're sitting in Spencer's apartment, his head in your lap as you both read. You can't help but think of Parker, of hearing him yell for the first time since you met him. The boy was always so quiet, except in class where he was engaged and able to answer every question, even if his answers were a little all over the place.

"[Y/N]?" You hear Spencer ask and you look down at him, dazed.

"Huh?"

"You haven't even looked at your book for six minutes and twenty-seven seconds," Spencer says and you frown. You put your book face down next to you on the side table and rub your hands over your face. You feel hands at your wrists, and they tug slightly, pulling your hands away from your face. "What's going on?"

"Just a student of mine yelled at me today," you say. Spencer frowns and you lean down, kissing where his brow was furrowed. "It's okay. I've just never seen him even raise his voice above a whisper besides when we're in class. And even then he doesn't yell." You pause, and sit back up. Spencer sits up as well and lets go of your wrists, leaning into your side. "A lot of the students and faculty don't like him because he's disruptive in class, but I know he's a good student. He's driven and knows a lot. He just needs to be pushed in the right way." You sigh again and lean over to rest your head on Spencer's shoulder. "I told him that I would finish editing his essay by the end of the week but he yelled at me, telling me to finish it right then and there. I told him I would finish it by the end of the day. I knew he wasn't going to stop asking, so I made a compromise I thought he could live with."

You look up at Spencer's face and see him frowning. "How long has he been like this with you?"

You let out a huff of humorless laughter. "What, you jealous?" you ask, joking.

Some of the tension eases from Spencer's face but he doesn't stop frowning.

"No, I'm not jealous. I'm just cautious." He looks into your eyes as he says, "You should be too."

You sigh and lean down, kissing him. "I know. I will be. I just don't want to push him away. I think I'm the only friendly face he has around campus…"

Spencer nods, and opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closes it, and the two of you spend the rest of your evening in silence, unanswered questions lingering in the air between you.

"Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall." –Romeo and Juliet

"You okay?" you ask Spencer one night while you're sitting on your bed together, watching something on your laptop. Tonight you were trying to get him into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but he seemed more distracted than normal.

He looks up at you, a glazed look in his eyes before sighing. "The case we finished today? It was a stalker case. This man was in love with this woman and we had to make her tell him she was in love with him to get him to let his guard down," Spencer explains and you turn to face him, not saying anything. "We shot him. In the end. He died while the woman was sobbing into her husband's arms." You reach out and place a hand near Spencer, not touching him. He reaches out and takes your hand, kissing it. "I just keep thinking about how she'll never feel safe around another man again."

"You did what you could and you saved her life, Spencer," you say quietly and he looks at you sadly. "I'm so proud of you."

"But what about the people we can't save?"

You sigh and kiss Spencer lightly. "You can't think about that. Think about the families you saved, the women, the children. You saved a life! That's amazing, Spencer."

Spencer smiles and nods but he doesn't look convinced. You just kiss him again and go back to watching Buffy.

"<i>For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?</i>" –Much Ado About Nothing

You startle as a knock sounds at your door. You aren't expecting visitors. Spencer's out with work, and he said not to expect him back for a few days. It's only been two, and he can't have caught the guy that quickly already.

But when you open your door, Spencer is standing there, his eyes puffy and red, and before you can ask any questions, he's pushing himself into your arms. You stumble back and close the door before sinking to the floor, letting Spencer cry into your arms.

"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun. Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain; Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies." –Venus and Adonis

"I love you," you say one evening while you're sitting on the couch, Spencer's head in your lap. You're running your fingers through his hair as you say this, making it fan out around his head like a halo of auburn curls.

He cracks an eye open at you and smiles. "Really?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes. I do. And I just thought I should say it," you say, and Spencer sits up, leaning in to kiss you. You put your hands on his cheeks and smile into the soft kiss.

He pulls away and says, "I want you to meet my mom."

Your eyes go wide and you open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You frown before asking, "When?"

"I have some vacation time saved and we could wait until summer break!" Spencer exclaims, causing your frown to drop. "You're not teaching again until the second half of summer break, so we can see her then."

"I've never been to the west coast before…" you say, trailing off and looking away. Spencer goes to say something but you cut him off with a smile. "But, that's okay. I want to meet her."

Spencer grins and grabs your face, kissing you like his life depends on it. You laugh as he gets up and runs out of the living room, whooping with joy.

"I love you, Spencer Reid!" you shout.

"Love you too!" he shouts back.

"Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends." –A Midsummer Night's Dream

It's a week until the end of term, finals right around the corner, and you have been stuck in your office for most of the day. Most of the week actually. You gave your students the last few days off to study for their finals, and to finish their final essays for you while you finished editing the last of their work before you were bombarded with essays and tests.

Your phone rings on your desk, but you turn off the noise, groaning as the red light beeps incessantly. It's been doing that for the past half an hour. You even had to turn your mobile off and shove it into an unused drawer of your desk.

After another five minutes of the light beeping, you pick up your phone.

"WHAT!" you scream into the receiver.

"Uh, Dr. [L/N]?" you hear someone say quietly into the phone.

"You know, I'm very busy right now and I can't handle distractions so if you would just-"

"Someone's shooting up the school."

Your blood runs cold as a knock sounds at your door, and you watch the knob turning. You gulp as the voice on the other end of the line tries to get your attention, but you can't hear them. All you can hear is the creak of your door as it's slowly pushed open.

"Mr. [Y/N]!" You hear someone shout as they enter your office. It's Parker. And he's holding a gun. "I thought I heard you in here! Who are you talking to?"

You go to answer, but the words die in your throat.

"I- I don't actually know. They-they were calling to tell me about you," you say finally, hanging up the phone as the person yells on the other side of the line.

Parker closes your door and walks over to your desk with a happy smile on his face. "I came to get you, [Y/N]," he says, and you force a smile onto your face.

"Really?" you ask, hoping your nervousness doesn't give anything away.

He nods. "It's just you and me now! Forever!"

You gulp, but smile. "Uh huh…"

"The only thing left in our way is that whore who calls himself your boyfriend…" Parker says, and your smile drops.

"Spencer?" you can't help the wavering in your voice as you say his name.

Parker nods and places his hand against his chin. "Yes. Maybe you can call him? I'm sure he's already on his way over here."

You gulp, but nod. You pick up your desk phone and dial Spencer's number from memory. While your memory may not be anywhere close to as good as his, you forced yourself to memorize it in case it was an emergency.

After the first ring, the phone is picked up. "[Y/N]? Are you okay? I've tried calling you for the past twenty minutes and you haven't picked up!" Spencer exclaims on the other end of the line.

You take a deep breath before looking up at Parker, who's smiling expectantly at you. He nods. "Spencer, can you come to my office?"

"I'm outside. Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Tell him to leave his gun and vest outside," Parker whispers and you nod.

"You need to leave your gun and vest outside," you say, your voice shaking with every word.

"Oh!" Parker exclaims and leans forward. "And tell him if he doesn't do all that, I'm going to kill you."

You let out a sob and say into the phone, shaking, "If you don't do what's been asked, he's going to- he's going to kill me, oh!" you exclaim, another sob escaping your lips. You hear Spencer start to say something, but Parker puts a finger down on the plunger and you hear the dial tone in your ear. You slowly take the phone away from your ear and look at it shaking in your grip.

You watch absently as Parker's fingers brush yours, getting you to open your hand, and you let him take the phone, and put it back down on your desk.

You keep staring off into the middle distance, even as Parker's hand rests on your chin. He turns your head and your eyes lock onto his. You can see the simmering rage bubbling underneath the feigned love that he's projecting. It's probably not even conscious. You don't know if a man like him even <i>could</i> fall in love.

You hear a knock at your door and Parker moves away from you, but grabs your arm forcefully. Your hips push into the desk painfully and you let out a small whimper. Parker's hand on your arm relaxes slightly and he pulls you around your desk to stand next to him at his side, his gun pointed at the dark wooden door that is slowly opening.

You see Spencer slowly pushing the door open, his other hand raised to show he's unarmed.

"Stay there," Parker says, holding his gun level at Spencer's chest.

"Okay. Okay," Spencer says, putting his other hand up. "No one needs to get hurt."

Parker shakes his head. "No. No. They do. They're going to come in the way of us!"

Parker looks down at you and you look up at him, wide eyed. "No, they won't. No one can come in between us," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Spencer's right. No one needs to get hurt."

Parker closes his eyes and shakes his head again. "Spencer, Spencer… Why Spencer? Why him? Why not me?"

You grab his arm and say, "It is you, Parker! It will always be you!" you look over at Spencer, asking with your eyes if you're doing a good job, if this is what you should be doing. He gives you a miniscule nod. You remembered from before when you talked about guys like Parker. "I don't love Spencer. I love you."

Your heart breaks as you say this, but you know that Spencer knows it isn't true. Parker's the only one who needs to believe it.

"Say it," he says, before looking over at the man in question, "to him."

You gulp and look at Spencer, leaning more into Parker's side as you say, "Spencer, I don't love you. I never loved you. I'm in love with Parker. Nothing will be able to keep up apart."

"[Y/N]..." Spencer says, heartbreak evident on his face. Either he's a really good actor or he actually believes it. You sincerely hope it's the former.

Parker nods when you look at him, and grins. "Let's get out of here…" he says, holding out his hand. You take it gingerly and he pulls your back to his chest, still holding Spencer at gunpoint. He flicks the gun further into your office, and Spencer moves with his hands up, tears streaming from his face as he moves across from you in the room.

Parker backs up slowly through the room towards the door, his gun still pointed at Spencer. As soon as he steps out into the hallway, you hear the gunshot.

You feel Parker fall behind you, and you run back into your office, falling to the floor, and only then do you start crying. You sob loudly, and when you're pulled into a chest, you only cry harder.

You hear Spencer whispering to you, and you feel his tears on your hair, your neck as he says, "I can't lose you too. I can't. I just can't…"

You pull him closer, pulling your legs to your chest as you sob, "I love you. I love you so much. I didn't mean anything I said!"

"I know," he whispers, kissing your head. "I know."

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." –Much Ado About Nothing

"I've never been to Vegas before!" you exclaim as you get off the plane. "Can we go to any casinos? I've never gambled before!"

Spencer chuckles as he grabs your hand, pulling you through the airport. "We'll see. I've been banned from a few, so I don't know if they'll let me in…" he says, trailing off and you laugh. "Did you know that what most people think of as Las Vegas is actually called Paradise? In the late 1940s, after the second world war was over, the city of Las Vegas actually banned gambling. The rich gamblers in town weren't happy with that so they created a town called Paradise and made gaming legal there. Well, it's not a town, but more like unincorporated land that doesn't follow Las Vegas' laws."

You grin and grab your bag when it comes around. While Spencer was talking, you had gone to the baggage claim and your bag had already been around once. While Spencer was used to traveling light, with only a go bag, you were not.

"I did not know that," you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he pulls out towards the exit.

You get the car he rented and you let him drive you to Bennington. He wanted to go back to the hotel for a night before seeing his mom, but you didn't want him to waste any more time. You would freshen up after.

You and Spencer are ushered through the sterilized, but still personable, halls of the sanitarium, and into a large room with a couple of other people in it. You see a blonde, short haired woman sitting on a couch and Spencer starts walking over to her.

When she sees him, her face lights up and she exclaims, "Spencer!"

"Hey mom," he says, giving her a wave. "I wanted to introduce you to someone."

She turns and looks you up and down, before wringing her hands out and looking at her son. "Is this the man you told me about in your letters?"

Your eyebrows raise at that and you ask Spencer, "You talked to her about me?" he looks at you, nervous, but you smile. "All good things, I hope." He grins and grabs your hand. You turn to Diana and hold out your hand. "Hi. I'm Dr. [Y/N] [L/N]. Spencer's told me so much about you. He really loves you."

She smiles and takes your hand lightly before letting go. "Yes, he's told me a lot about you too. He loves you too," she says, and you smile at him.

"And I love him," you reply.

"Journeys end in lovers' meeting; every wise man's son doth know" –Twelfth Night

#Spencer reid #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x you #spencer read x reader #diana reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #my work #my writing

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mysterioushogwartsrequests · 4 years

Note

Would you do a slight NSFW Draco Malfoy imagine of him dating a Slytherin who's good friends with Hermione, Ron and Harry and she manages to convince Draco to go to the Three Broomsticks with the Golden Trio and be cordial with them since she's promised him some alone time if he's nice to them since she wants them to see that he's not all bad because they don't get what she sees him in?

Hello! This one took forever to write, I lowkey got stumped and I couldn’t figure out how to write the ending, lol. I didn’t want to go all-in so this is what I came up with. I love Draco Malfoy so I want to do him justice!

ϟ ϟ ϟ

Draco watched as (Y/N) (L/N) adjusted her lipstick in his dormitory mirror, studying her silhouette as she bent over his dresser. As an upcoming superstar for the Slytherin Quidditch Team, (Y/N) was quite popular and often found herself being the center of attention. But once the school caught wind of her relationship with the Draco Malfoy, it did not take long for them to be considered the power couple of Slytherin House. However, despite sharing a perfectly healthy relationship, there were a few students that questioned (Y/N)’s partner of choice.

These complaints came from the three most determined students of Gryffindor House. Despite being in separate houses, the Golden Trio and (Y/N) managed to become great friends, effectively breaking the hateful stereotype between Gryffindor and Slytherin relationships. During their second year, (Y/N) found herself in quite the predicament when she fell off a borrowed broom hours past curfew. She spent a fair amount of time sprawled across the training grounds staring up at the starry sky trying to ignore the excruciating pain of her broken arm. It was then that Harry, Ron, and Hermione stumbled upon her still body as they pursued the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione Granger was the first to approach her, momentarily scolding (Y/N) for breaking the rules before examining the extent of her wounds.

Harry and Ron followed cautiously behind Hermione, the two of them exchanging worried looks before kneeling beside (Y/N).

“It’ll be alright,” said Ron with a sympathetic smile, “We’ll take care of you.”

From that day on the four of them were inseparable. Which was a natural outcome when a group fabricated lies to fool Madam Pomfrey or any other staff member, for that matter. When they were not chasing dangerous creatures within Hogwarts, they often spent their time near the Quidditch Pitch, with Harry and Ron teaching (Y/N) the basics of the game while Hermione reviewed her books from the ground. As time went on (Y/N), and Hermione calmly listened to Harry and Ron’s rants about Draco Malfoy and how much they despised him.

Being from the same house as Draco Malfoy, (Y/N) often found herself conflicted between choosing her friends and abiding by the “your house is like your family” statement. She could not think of one occasion where Malfoy had been rude to her directly, but she could not excuse his behavior towards her friends. It was not until Professor Snape paired them up for a Potions essay that (Y/N) and Draco began learning more about each other. Draco was used to boasting and putting on a show in front of other students, but he quickly realized that (Y/N) would not succumb to his usual tricks.

Draco lay comfortably against his bed, his arms crossed behind his head as his eyes landed on the plaid pleated skirt his loving girlfriend decided to wear for their Hogsmeade trip. (Y/N) looked at Draco’s reflection, a devious smile playing at her lips as she bent forwards, giving her boyfriend a better view of what he quietly desired. At this movement, Draco clicked his tongue and scowled in her direction, swiftly rising from his four-poster, and making his way towards her.

“Little nymph,” uttered Draco against her ear, rubbing small circles against her hips as she straightened up, “We could just stay. Avoid the trouble... and have a little fun ourselves.” Under different circumstances, Draco would have been thrilled to visit Hogsmeade with his beloved, but he knew they would not be spending the afternoon alone.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, her eyes landing on the silver “I” on Draco’s robes before excellently replicating Professor Umbridge’s high-pitched voice, “Boys and girls are not permitted to be within eight inches of each other,” she teased, leaning back into Draco’s grip as he scoffed. Spinning her around, Draco lifted her onto his dresser, pushing her skirt up farther up her thighs.

“I’d like to think I can change your tune rather quickly,” Draco snapped, pressing chaste kisses against the smooth skin of her neck, “I’ll never understand how you imitate that woman so perfectly” he added, earning a giggle from (Y/N).

“One of my many talents,” retaliated (Y/N), wrapping her arms around Draco’s neck, “You know, I can’t help but think this is your way of distracting me” she added, twirling small strands of his platinum blonde hair.

“Ugh,” groaned Draco, “I just don’t understand why we have to spend our Saturday with Potter and his stupid friends,” he spat but quickly scowled at (Y/N)’s hurt expression.

“I’ve told you before, Draco,” (Y/N) frowned, “They’re my friends too and I wish for us to get along. It took me a while to convince them, but they’ve agreed to give you one more chance,” she said, placing her hand against her boyfriend’s cheek, “I want them to see the real you, the Draco I fell in love with.”

Draco turned his head away from (Y/N) but held her hand to acknowledge her words. Despite being together for a little over a year, he still found it quite difficult to let his guard down completely. He supposed it was due to his family’s teachings and the expectations of his Father, but throughout his relationship with (Y/N), he came to realize there were far more important matters. One of them being keeping (Y/N) (L/N) safe and content.

“Fine,” Draco uttered, his grey eyes meeting hers, “I’ll do it for you, Darling” he added, pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead before capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. (Y/N) smiled against his kiss, pressing her forehead against his once he pulled away.

“I appreciate it, Draco,” She whispered, pressing a light kiss against the tip of his nose, “and don’t forget, I promised you a little reward if you behave.” (Y/N) added seductively, leading Draco’s hands underneath her short skirt.

Draco hummed contently, harshly squeezing the back of her thighs and lifting her against his body, her legs wrapping instinctively over his hips, “Well then, I’ll make sure to be on my best behavior,” He said, kissing her once again and setting her down in front of him, “We better get going, it’s not polite to keep them waiting.”

(Y/N) laughed at his change of behavior, taking one final look in the mirror, and heading towards the door. A loud smack suddenly filled the room, earning a small yelp of surprise from (Y/N), “Draco!” she exclaimed, turning to face her seemingly innocent boyfriend, “Why don’t you save the spanking for later?” she teased as Draco chuckled.

“Alright, alright,” He added, raising his arms defensively, “but you are aware of how much I adore those little skirts you wear.”

(Y/N) opened the door of the boys’ dormitory and took another glance back at Draco, “and that is exactly why I wear them,” She winked and scurried down the stairs, filling the stairwell with her giggles as Draco chased behind her.

ϟ ϟ ϟ

Meanwhile, at the Three Broomsticks, Ron Weasley let out his fourth impatient huff of the afternoon, leaning his hand into his palm with a noticeable scowl on his face. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he grumbled, taking another swig of his Butterbeer as they waited.

Hermione sighed once again, “Ron, this is for (Y/N), just try to give him a chance.” Even though she was attempting to sound positive, Hermione could not help feel wary of what was to come. They had never seen eye to eye with Draco Malfoy and his new position on Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad made the situation even more cumbersome.

“Ron’s right, Hermione,” added Harry, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back into his seat, “I find it hard to believe that Malfoy has a ‘good’ side.” Hermione scoffed at his words, glaring at the crabby boys beside her, “Oh, stop it!” exclaimed Hermione, “You two know how much (Y/N) cares for him, we at least have to make the effort to talk to him.” Ron and Harry looked towards each other, exchanging abhorrent looks until Hermione elbowed them both.

“Bloody hell, Hermione!” exclaimed Ron, tenderly rubbing his aching side, but quickly shut up once he noticed the presence of his friend (Y/N) and her boyfriend. Hermione quickly rose from her seat and greeted (Y/N) with a tight hug before awkwardly turning to face the silent Draco Malfoy.

“Hello, Draco” she greeted, extending her hand for him to shake. Draco shifted his eyes towards (Y/N) who gave an encouraging nod as he gripped Hermione’s outstretched hand.

“Hello, Granger,” He replied, a meek smile playing at his lips as he turned towards the boys sitting at the booth, “Weasley, Potter, good to see you.”

Ron absentmindedly let his jaw drop, hesitantly replying “Erm- Good to see you too, Malfoy”, carelessly scratching his head as Hermione returned to her seat beside him. Harry, however, did not speak, he only acknowledged Draco with a subtle nod of the head as he sipped his Butterbeer. Draco smiled towards (Y/N), pulling a chair out and gesturing for her to take a seat, “I’ll go order us some more drinks,” He stated, kissing the top of his girlfriend’s head before sauntering away.

Ron watched Draco go in shock, “good to see you?!” he whispered harshly, slapping his hand against his forehead, “I sound like a prat!”. Hermione scowled once again, shooting a reassuring look towards (Y/N), “Ron’s just getting used to this, I’m sure he’ll behave once Draco returns” she stated comfortingly, taking (Y/N)’s hand into hers with a smile, “But honestly, I didn’t expect him to say that either.”

(Y/N) laughed, patting the top of Hermione’s hand as she glanced back at Draco at the bar, “I told you he was polite,” she added with a grin, “You just have to get to know him.” With nearly perfect timing, Draco returned and took a seat next to his girlfriend, wrapping his arm around the back of her chair. Ron examined the situation carefully, his protective instinct rising as Malfoy got closer to his friend.

“Madam Rosmerta will bring our drinks soon, I also requested an assortment of pastries” Draco spoke out, lacing his fingers with (Y/N)’s underneath the wooden table, “My treat,” he added, earning a satisfied smile from his girlfriend.

Some of Ron’s animosity disappeared at the mention of free food and he gave a small nod of appreciation towards Draco, “Thanks, Malfoy” he uttered, looking towards Harry and Hermione who were also having a difficult time understanding this “new” side of Malfoy.

A wave of silence fell over them. It seemed like they were unsure of who should speak first, but upon feeling the gentle squeeze of (Y/N)’s hand, Draco cleared his throat, “So, (Y/N) tells me you two taught her how to play Quidditch,” he added, nodding his head towards Harry and Ron curiously.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry replied, speaking up for the first time since the couple’s arrival, “(Y/N)’s a natural though, it didn’t take long for her to learn the basics.”

“That reminds me,” added Ron, grinning as Madame Rosmerta set down their freshly baked pastries and full goblets of Butterbeer, “(Y/N), you haven’t told us your favorite Quidditch team! I think you should have a pretty good idea at this point,” he said, bringing his cup to his lips to take a generous gulp.

(Y/N) took the opportunity to play a joke on her friends, taking a bite of her warm apple tart before saying, “Why! The Chudley Cannons, of course!”

Harry immediately regretted taking such a big drink, choking on the liquid before (Y/N) even finished her sentence. Hermione let out a panicked squeal, patting Harry’s back as he violently coughed, “T-The Chudley Cannons?! Have you gone mad?!” He exclaimed tearfully, looking towards (Y/N) in bewilderment.

Ron subtly placed his hand over his mouth, concealing his smile as Harry finished up his coughing fit. Draco, on the other hand, could not hide his amusement and snickered at Potter’s antics. (Y/N) burst laughing at Harry’s reaction, quickly shaking her head, “I was just pulling your leg! The Chudley Cannons are complete rubbish!”

Ron let out an angry scoff, “Hey! It is just a management problem! The players are quite good!” He defended while Harry violently shook his head.

“I’m glad it was just a joke, I was ready to take you to Madam Pomfrey” Harry exclaimed, dabbing his mouth with a napkin and sinking back into his seat.

“And what would she have done?” Hermione asked dubiously, taking a bite of a pumpkin pasty.

“Unless she knew a cure for madness, she would not have been much help,” chuckled Draco as he sipped his Butterbeer, earning a noticeable smile from Ron and Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed pastry off the tray, “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled in annoyance, “She could’ve examined (Y/N)’s head or something, I don’t know”

“Who do you follow then, Potter?” Asked Draco curiously, wrapping his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders as they continued their conversation.

“Uh-” Harry paused, caught off-guard by his question“Well, the Bulgarian team has some great players, but I’d say it’s between them and Ireland” He admitted, recalling the 1994 Quidditch World Cup, “Can’t say I have a favorite, though”

“The Gryffindor team is definitely your favorite,” teased (Y/N), “but that is a bit biased since you are their Seeker.”

Harry playfully rolled his eyes at her comment, “Can you honestly say your favorite team isn’t the Slytherin team?” He asked, pointing an accusatory finger towards (Y/N). Both she and Draco laughed, shrugging at Harry’s reasonably accurate comment, “You got me there” she admitted.

“We are quite good,” Draco admitted proudly with a nod of the head, “Never lost a match until you came along,” he added, shrugging towards Harry, “I promise we’ll beat you next time, (Y/N) and I have been training non-stop.”

Harry snickered at Draco’s comment, “We’ll see about that, Malfoy,” he grinned, “I’m not going to let you off easy just because you’re with (Y/N).”

Draco clicked his tongue in amusement, “I want a fair match, Potter.” He stated sternly, “I wouldn’t be satisfied if I won a match just because you threw it”

“Then we’ll settle this on the field,” Harry stated confidently, raising his Butterbeer in satisfaction and finishing it off.

After a surprisingly pleasant outing, the five of them walked back towards the castle, hoping Professor Umbridge would not catch them sneaking in the extra special butterbeer Madam Rosmerta brewed per Draco’s request (and compensation, of course). Disregarding educational decree number twenty-six, Draco snaked his arm around (Y/N)’s waist, pulling her closer to him as they strode towards the Great Hall. Once there, Hermione gave (Y/N) a hug as they happily exchanged goodbyes for the evening. Draco and (Y/N) gave the Golden Trio one final wave before turning towards the direction of the Slytherin common room, making their way there quicker and more excitedly than usual.

Delighted to find his dormitory empty, Draco urged his girlfriend into the room and swiftly locked the door. Although he would not give her the satisfaction of knowing this information, he actually had a great evening at Hogsmeade with (Y/N) and her friends. However, this realization did not deter Draco’s excitement as he recalled his dear girlfriend’s promise before they left.

Placing a hand against the small of her back, Draco pushed (Y/N)’s stomach against the dresser she used to tease him earlier. “I’d say I put forth my very best manners today, wouldn’t you agree?” He muttered against her ear, earning a small gasp from her as one of his hands gripped her hip and the other sneaked towards the buttons of her shirt. A sultry moan slid past (Y/N)’s lips as Draco’s hips ground against her clothed behind.

Encouraged by her noises, Draco wrapped his fingers underneath her chin and lifted it so their eyes met in the mirror, “Should I take that as a yes?” He asked huskily, pressing a kiss against her cheek as he gave her throat a squeeze.

The boldness she exhibited earlier quickly cast out the window as she gave a rather desperate nod, enthralled by Draco’s movements. (Y/N)’s mind had strayed farther than she had expected it to. It did not matter how confident she acted before their usual teasing started, as soon as his expertly calculated movements began, she became putty in his hands. The feeling of his fingers tracing lines up her thigh until they were hidden under her skirt made her heart beat wildly. Draco carefully inched his fingers up her inner thigh, ghosting them over her dampening core, but moved them away without pressing them into her. Shifting her hips, (Y/N) let out another small whine as she attempted to at least brush herself on Draco’s fingers, earning a small tut from him.

“Cat got your tongue, Princess?” inquired Draco, his hands moving to flip her skirt up, exposing the flimsy black lace underwear she flashed earlier, “I’m not going to do anything until I hear that pretty little beg of yours…” he added, removing his hands from her body and loosening his emerald green tie, his school robes discarded at his side. Draco’s words sent shivers down (Y/N)’s spine, his low tone forcing her thighs together to provide some friction, something her observant boyfriend had taken note of.

“Oi, where are your manners?” he retorted, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. Fed up with her silence, Draco slapped his hand against her exposed ass cheek, the cold, silver rings decorating his fingers adding another layer of pleasure as she gasped harshly. “I’m not going to ask you again,” With that, Draco hooked his index fingers underneath the lacy fabric and yanked it down her ankles, her arousal on full display.

“I-I’m- Please, Draco,” (Y/N) whined out, squeezing her thighs together in front of him, “I need you, please touch me..!” She begged, another gasp overtaking her as Draco swiped two fingers against her folds.

“That’s a good girl,” He praised, dipping the press a kiss against the back of her neck, smirking at her moans as he finally inserted a finger inside of her, “Keep making those noises for me and I’ll reward you” demanded Draco, lowering himself onto his knees as he pumped his fingers. Flattening his tongue against her folds, (Y/N) let out a sensual moan, her hands reaching for the corners of the dresser in an attempt to anchor her shaking legs. Draco smirked as (Y/N) shuddered at the sudden loss of contact, rising to his feet while he fiddled with his belt, “Let’s get started then, shall we?” He stated, kicking his trousers away and gripping (Y/N)’s hips tightly, her skirt pushed up to her waist as he ground his erection against her needy core.

As their moans and groans echoed throughout the empty room, Draco could not help but think about giving in to her requests more often. If all of them ended with her writhing and calling his name underneath him, he did not have any qualms with entertaining Potter and his friends for the afternoon.

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