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stormkobra-5 · 2 years

Note

Can i request the moon boys reacting to y/n getting angry at a sibling over a special interest I think it might be funny seeing the moon boys reacting to y/n who is usually nice and sweet just go ballistic

I kinda lost it at my brother today swore like a sailor over marvel icronicly 🤣

I keep requesting cause i love your writing so much 💖💖

Bro?!?! Buddy?!?! Are you me?!?! This literally happens to me all. The. TIME. I know exactly how you feel. I’m flattered you think my writing is that great, I don’t mind you sending in requests at all! uwu

Pairing: Moon Boys x gn!Reader

Fic Type: Blurb

Summary: You’re typically sweet as sugar, but when your sibling teases you a little too much about a special interest, you take a turn that’s extremely surprising to your boyfriends.

A/N: This takes place in an au where Moon Knight is not in the MCU, they’re real superheroes serving the real god of the moon and the MCU is a movie series. :p (I was gonna use Star Wars, but you mentioned Marvel, so I decided to use that if that’s okay.)

Note: [Y/S/N] = Your Sibling’s Name

Rating/Warnings: 14+, strong language, probably some incorrect MCU references, an AU that doesn’t make sense b u t *shrugs* this is fanfic, bewildered Moon Bois, gn!sibling so that it’s more reader-friendly (I didn’t want to just add brother or sister lmao), cussing, swearing, and name-calling to a sibling in a loving manner, a sibling teasing reader in a sibling way, reader using crappy insults because I’m not very creative lmao

Your sibling had come to visit you in Steven’s little flat, an unexpected surprise that neither of you were anticipating in the slightest. Unannounced completely. It wasn’t bad, it was just… Startling? Yes, startling is the correct term.

I mean, the flat was a mess. Your lazy weekend was indeed the laziest of weekends. That meant lots of cuddles and not so much actually getting up to put things in the trash can, or do the laundry, or do the dishes. It looked like the flat hadn’t been cleaned in months. I mean, what were they gonna say about you to the rest of the family?! That you and your boyfriend(s) were slobs?!

Marc and Jake immediately retreated into the headspace when Steven opened the door curiously to find your sibling standing there. “Oy?! Lads?! Where’d’you think you’re going?!” Steven’s desperate thoughts were met by Marc and Jake’s unadulterated terror.

“Ohoooo no, hombré,” Jake said, turning to hide in one of the back rooms of Steven’s mind-replicated flat. “I’m not ready to face that yet!”

“Besides, Steven,”Marc reasoned, slowly backing away, “You’re the nicest and most likable out of the three of us.”

And so that was how Steven alone was promptly smushed into a bone-crushing hug. “So you’re the boyfriend!”

“U-uhm… Yes, I am?” Poor Steven voiced it like a question, glancing back over his shoulder to try and convey his fear to you as you approached with a lazy smile.

“Yes, he’s my boyfriend,” You gently pried Steven out of the hug, patting his back a little so that he might be reminded to breathe. The poor guy looked like a deer in the headlights, waiting for what he thought was the inevitable disapproval of your family member. “Steven, this is Y/S/N. Y/S/N, this is Steven.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” Y/S/N shook Steven’s hand adamantly, whereas your boyfriend was a little more hesitant, a shy smile on his face. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

“They have?” Steven seemed surprised. You wrapped your arms around one of his and leaned into his warmth.

“Don’t be so shocked, silly. Of course I talk about you.” To your sibling, you said with a jerk of your chin, “What’s up?”

“I was in the area for business,” Y/S/N replied, “Figured I’d swing through.”

“You have a hotel?” You inquired, pulling them further into your flat. Steven quietly shut the door behind you, ensuring that it was locked.

“Well, yeah, but it’s one of those old creepy ones like you see in scary movies.” At your frown, Steven perked up.

“Uh oh,” Marc thought, rushing into the headspace. “Don’t even think about it, Steven.”

“Amigo, if you do this, I swear to god, I will kick you in the crotch.”

“...Jake, we share a body.”

“And if he does this, we’ll be in pain already. Might as well make him suffer for it.”

“Why don’t you stay with us?” Steven offered, ignoring his alters. He saw your concern and wanted to get rid of it. You didn’t need to worry like that. He wanted to help, and the way your face lit up at the suggestion only made him more certain that this was the right thing to do– not to mention, your smile also shut his alters up for a second as they admired you.

Your sibling eagerly agreed, and while they went to collect their things from their hotel, you and Steven tidied up the apartment. You laughed and rambled on excitedly about having your sibling stay with you for a few days, and that night at dinner Steven grew more comfortable around them as they spoke, conversations touching on old family stories, amusing tales of childhood endeavors that ended in chaos, and nostalgic recollections of old places.

That is, until your sibling noticed your Marvel merchandise in the bedroom as you gave them a tour.

Comics, movies, an action figure or two, you had a connection to the movie franchise that your boyfriends found endearing. You would have them watch the movies with you, telling them all the details that they hadn’t noticed or pointing out comic Easter Eggs and similarities. They were pretty sure you could recite Black Panther line-for-line just from memory alone, and for all it was worth, the boys tried their absolute hardest to keep up with all the information, although the MCU was notoriously confusing.

“You’re still into Marvel, huh?” Your sibling joked.

“Um, yeah?” You gave them a look as if that was the dumbest question they could’ve asked.

Y/S/N just shrugged.

The boys thought nothing of it.

Y/S/N intended to stay for only three days, and on the first day, things went over smoothly. On the second, Steven overheard your sibling teasing you about your Marvel collection again. From where he sat with his book on Egyptian mythos, Steven lifted his head to listen to the exchange.

“Shut up, Y/S/N! Put that down!” You were sweet as always, your voice soft and tender.

“What, you mean your toys?”

“They’re not toys, they’re action figures.”

“Action figures. Action figures which you set on your five million Marvel comics. I’m surprised the floor doesn’t cave in.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible…”

“And you’re a geek.”

Still swapping playful banter, you and your sibling left the bedroom and went out for the day– but not before giving Steven a goodbye kiss. You pecked him a second time– “For Marc” – and a third – “For Jake” – before pulling away.

You returned later in the evening, with no sign of Y/S/N. “Where’s Y/S/N?” Steven questioned, glancing toward the door as if he expected them to enter as he spoke.

“We split up,” You answered as you started up some popcorn in the microwave. “They’ll come back later. For now, though…” You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. “We’ve got the evening to ourselves.”

“Sounds lovely, darling,” Steven hummed, kissing your cheek. His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close. “Marc says it’s your turn for movie night.”

“I know!” You chirped excitedly as the corn kernels in the microwave started popping. Steven– and Marc and Jake, within the headspace– watched fondly as you zipped around him, headed for the tv remote. “I know exactly what we’re watching.”

“Age of Ultron?” Steven guessed, eliciting a scoff from you.

“No. We’re watching the first Avengers. The original.”

As you prepared the streaming site, Steven continued where you’d left off with the popcorn, getting out the designated gigantic bowl and your favorite drinks. It was then that your sibling walked through the door, all smiles and warm greetings until they seen what you were putting on the tv. “Ugh. Avengers again? Haven't you seen it a billion times already? Give it a break, will ya?”

Steven, Marc, and Jake watched as you put your hands together like you were praying, taking a deep breath.

And then, you just…

It was like an atomic bomb went off or something.

“Alright, listen up you fucking dingbat,” You said— you! Their sweet Y/N, cussing?! The boys stared with wide, surprised eyes as you kept going. “I don’t give a shit— nay, two shits— what the fuck you think about my interests, because that’s just what they are. My interests. Hear that? Lemme say it again for your brain cells in the back: my. Fucking. Interests. So that means whatever two-cents you care to drop are promptly shoved in the ‘who-gives-a-fuck’ bin, which is lower on the goddamn rung than the ‘i-don’t-give-a-shit’ barrel. You’re here as my guest you fucking skunk-wad, and while you’re here you can either shut your damn mouth and enjoy the damn movie I’m putting on for entertainment, or walk the fuck away and go on casually about your boring-ass evening in whatever way you choose. But it’s my turn for movie night, dammit, so we’re fucking watching Avengers. Unless you wanna go fucking prance around the flat, then be my guest. Otherwise, shut up, fuck off, peace out.”

With that, you plopped on the couch as if nothing had happened. “Steven, honey, you can bring the popcorn. Come sit down.”

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

Maldito infierno.

Steven very cautiously approached, feeling for all the world as if he were a soldier sneaking between two opposing lines of fire, still wide-eyed with shock. Did that just happen?! He was surprised when Y/S/N only nodded, as if impressed by your outburst. Steven sat beside you and braced for the worst, especially when your sibling sat down on his other side. You pushed play.

And simultaneously, you both grabbed a handful of popcorn.

What the bloody hell?

What the hell?

¿Qué carajo?

Then you both started excitedly making references and pointing out keys of the plot, as if you hadn’t snapped at your sibling. Oh, well. I guess we fight like that a lot, don’t we?

“Yeah, you’re right,”Marc shrugged within the headspace. “Though… I’ve gotta admit…”

“That was… Extremely sexy of them,” Jake added when Marc lost his words.

Steven didn’t vocalize it, but he didn’t need to. He was in full agreement. When your sibling left the next morning, Steven told you almost before the door had completely shut, “Y’know that was really bloody hot when you told them off, love.”

You laughed, leaning into his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Steven admitted softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Jake and Marc think so, too.” You hummed, thoughtfully. Maybe even somewhat shyly. You’d hardly ever gotten more than frustrated, so your little sailor-swear outburst was unexpected, even for you. You were drawn out of your thoughts, a peal escaping from your throat as Steven tickled your sides a little to get your attention. “We’ve got ourselves a little spitfire, lads!”

And from then on, that’s what you were.

Their spitfire.

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Thanks for reading! ^^ I hope you liked it!

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #stormkobra 5 answers #oscar isaac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada

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iustitians · 6 months

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ooc; headcanons - on Neuvillette and rain

Oh you came back for another 3 Google Doc pages of me going insane? In that case, welcome to Neffi rambling about the man, part 2. This one has been bouncing around my head in disorganized bits and pieces practically since the beginning, so I guess sit back and enjoy as I attempt to stitch it all together.

As per usual, spoiler warning for story content and reveals from 4.1, 4.2, and his voice lines. You know, typical Neuvillette stuff.

Let’s start with the kinda elephant in the room and also a common misconception I see that admittedly bothers the hell out of me whenever I come across it: no, it doesn’t ONLY rain in Fontaine when Neuvillette is sad. The country does not require the Hydro Dragon to suffer from chronic depression in order to have a healthy climate. Not only that, but we have multiple mentions in both his story and voice lines that Neuvillette actively enjoys the rain and rainy days. What sense would it make for him to do so if it only rained due to him experiencing grief?

“Neuvillette has always favored rainy days over sunny ones, as the moisture-laden air helps him relax. However, it has been a long time since he last delighted in standing under the rain.” – Neuvillette’s character story 5

“Some days, my mind wanders, and I fantasize about walking into the rain… *sigh* Ah, but don't worry, my flights of fancy don't distract me from my work.” – Neuvillette, Something to Share: Rainy Days

And also my personal favorite on the topic,

“I was once summoned by Neuvillette to discuss some matters with him in his office. When I approached the Palais Mermonia, I saw him standing by the road, completely drenched in the rain. I held out an umbrella for him, and while he thanked me politely, his expression was a little… distressed, I guess. I can only assume that I had disturbed him in the middle of something.” – Wriothesley, About Neuvillette

Neuvillette was literally disappointed when he got shielded from the rain falling on him, but couldn’t show it too much because he has to play his role of a Proper Completely Normal Human Being (Except 500 Years Old). He has issues, okay.

At any rate, I suppose that with him being the Hydro Dragon, it makes perfect sense that he prefers moisture. If anything, it’s warmth and the state of being dry that would be… borderline unnatural to him. Sure, over the years he has gotten used to it, but that doesn’t mean he will have grown to like it. And he doesn’t, really. His voice line about sunny days confirms that he likes to stay indoors during such weather - heck, he goes so far as to hesitate to call it beautiful (and it’s not impossible that, again, he did so just because he thought he should). We can also figure out from his quotes about snow and the desert that cold temperatures bother him a lot less than hot ones; the former is entirely neutral, with Neuvillette not raising a word of complaint, whereas the latter flat out has him go “are you trying to kill me?!”

Of course, I can’t really write about him and the rain without analyzing his quote on the rain, now can I. It is a short, but still interesting one.

“Ah, my apologies. This heavy rain must be quite an inconvenience for you.” – Neuvillette, When It Rains

Why is he apologizing? Well, setting aside the fact that he apologizes for just about everything ever (again, he has issues), I think this quote can mean two things: “I apologize for enjoying the weather you find problematic” or “whoops, sorry, I had an emotion and I didn’t like it” - and I feel like it’s going to be either one, depending on the particular situation. The same goes for the melancholic “It’s over…” that he utters when the rain stops. Either the weather he enjoys has come to an end and he’s a little disappointed, OR what’s actually over is whatever he felt that caused the rain in the first place, in which case this would be an expression of relief.

So as I said, Neuvillette experiencing emotional turmoil is not a requirement for rain to happen around him. It can come as simply part of the climate and natural order, and I imagine he can also make it rain at will without negative feelings being involved. Such rain he can also stop when he wants - which we know from his idle animation. What Neuvillette’s sadness and grief do is cause additional rain to happen - and that is the main type of rain that is not truly and entirely under his control, because once this starts, it doesn’t stop raining until he can either put his mind at ease or strangle those feelings within himself.

This is something we have demonstrated to us full force during Act II, where we receive our first (and extremely blatant tbh) hints on his identity. We visit him in his office during a nice sunny day, he accidentally angers Navia and she snaps at him in tears, and when we exit the building, bam, rain. Navia also remarks that it was raining on the day her father was convicted, which is like, wow, you don’t say. Later on during this act, we find out and reveal the truth behind Callas’ sacrifice and the serial disappearances case, prompting Neuvillette to experience immense sadness and guilt that cause it to rain for literal days without pause - something that he indirectly confirms by outright saying “This regret has filled me with a sadness that has haunted me for days” to be his fault. (Shout-out to the fact that no one realized who he is right then and there. My only explanation for that, honestly, is that people probably expect a whole dragon when they think about the Hydro Dragon, not someone in human form. I mean come on, Navia isn’t stupid.) But Neuvillette and Navia manage to make their peace and come to an understanding, giving him some peace of mind, and just like that the rain stops, giving way to a beautiful sunset.

There’s also the moment from Act IV that results in the Traveler figuring it out, where Neuvillette’s grief and concern for the events to come prompt rain out of nowhere. And finally, of course, there’s the Act V cutscene - you know the one - where the rain comes crashing down heavier than ever before as he casts his judgment.

There is something very interesting to note in all of those situations. Namely the fact that during all those events, in spite of the severe emotional turmoil and grief he is experiencing - especially in that last case - Neuvillette still fails to shed a single tear of his own. He doesn’t do it in front of Callas’ grave, doesn’t do it in his story quest after Carole sacrifices herself and he has to exile his best - and possibly only - friend, doesn’t do it after he literally watches Focalors kill herself, doesn’t do it when he fulfills her wish. (In that last one some people like to speculate that he actually does, but sorry to tell you, no, as far as I’m concerned that really was just rain rolling down his face for the effect.) There comes a point where this can no longer be explained by him “maintaining his composure as expected of his station” or whatever - not only is that not necessary in that situation, but also he clearly loses said composure in front of Focalors. He can express positive emotions by himself just fine, however subdued and muted his reactions continue to be, but when it comes to situations where you would expect tears… It almost seems as though he is incapable of crying in a “normal human” manner, and the rain is something of a catalyst or conduit for him to express these emotions.

Which is, in fact, a headcanon that I am currently rolling with: Neuvillette does not have the ability to cry in a regular fashion.

As for what rain does for him, well…

“I don't think that the Hydro Dragon would "weep," per se. I think he just finds himself a little stirred when he gets a taste of the tears that have been shed on this land, on account of all the emotions they contain.” – Neuvillette, About Neuvillette: The Weeping Hydro Dragon

I believe that by causing it - willingly or otherwise - Neuvillette gives himself an outlet not only to express certain feelings, but also to release an accumulation of strong emotions that wash over him during certain periods of time and events, such as trials. We have multiple mentions of how it tends to rain in Fontaine especially on days when trials are held, and of course trials are a situation where emotions can and often will run absolutely wild; as well as a situation that directly involves Neuvillette.

Yet whenever we are shown a trial - be it the ones from Neuvillette’s character demo, Vautrin, Lyney, Marcel or eventually Furina - we can see that amidst all this turmoil, he maintains perfect composure, stability and impartiality, even at times of greatest uncertainty. It’s what he has to do, what he’s known for, and one of the reasons why he is so trusted. For his part, he calls it “routine”, and yet… Can it really be that easy? We know that he doesn’t have a heart of stone (hell, proving he doesn’t is one of the main points of his character arc, really).

So what I believe he can do, is that the events brought up during those trials and the powerful emotions of those involved that are attached to them will affect him, resonating with his own. Given that he does not allow himself to outwardly react or give voice to said emotions - and in come cases, cannot do so - he instead lets them wash over him, and then releases them outside. It is through rain that he can then not only give expression to his feelings in a way only he knows, but also let them out as they gather and accumulate. It’s almost like both a channel for excess and strong emotions, and a cleansing mechanism, in a way.

It is not possible for him to be entirely unaffected by emotions, and in truth it’s not what he wants, either - he doesn't aim to be an unfeeling piece of wood, and it’s through this resonance that he hopes to learn more about both humans and himself. But because he has limitations - both actual and self-imposed - on how expressive he can be… Every once in a while, Fontaine sees a bit of extra rain. Its residents go around praising their Iudex’s impartiality and self-control, and wonder about his rumored apathy, all while proof of his emotions pours on their heads, much to their dismay.

#✦ ooc.#✦ headcanons.#long post.

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auughsoundeffect · 3 months

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Guzma x oc

Chapter 10: interrogation

CW: physical restriction, might be uncomfortable for some

My ass really fucking hurts. I can feel dirt and grime clogging up my pores just from the smell alone. The more I come to my senses the more uncomfortable I feel.

I attempt to lift my hand up to rub my eyes but no matter how much I try it’s not moving an inch. After much struggle my eyes open.

My wrists are tied up to the armrests of a wooden chair im sitting in. I look around in the area, the lights were off. All I could see was the dark blue tint from the window in front of me, a thin curtain veiled the glass, keeping the night light from creeping into the dark room.

The sound of old floorboards creaking diverted my attention, I could hear something else was in this room with me.

By the sound of the creaks I knew that this entity was pretty heavy. My breath started getting faster as my body autonomously tried to wiggle itself free. Animalistic bellows from the entity that I could feel vibrate through my whole body, made me freeze.

It was completely silent for two minutes or so. I could hear my heartbeats in my head, the raindrops hitting the window in front of me and nothing else, it was as though it was all a figment of my imagination.

Like a chainsaw in the distance the bellowing started again before the most bloodcurdling screech I’ve ever heard sounded from behind me.

In my petrified state, all I could let out was a soft whimper as tears ran endlessly down my cheeks.

“Slept well?” The electric ceiling lamp flickered above me, blinding my vision. My eyes squeeze shut upon reflex.

When they started to open, Guzma was already leaning against the windowsill in front me with his arms crossed and presumably his golisopod standing right next to him.

It took me some time to process what had happened before I woke up strapped to a chair.

“What have you done to me??” My voice was brittle which didn’t earn me any sympathy, in fact it looked like he enjoyed seeing me in distress.

He shrugged his shoulders, his face was drenched in pure sadism, almost as if he was holding in a laugh.

“Fuck around and find out.”

After that sentence his shit eating grin crept back onto his face just the way it was before.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, i no longer felt scared or upset, I felt furious.

Here I was, physically restrained to the most uncomfortable chair I’ve ever had my ass on, where the air in the room was downright humid, warm and disgusting. I have no clue where on earth I am, let alone the time and how long I’ve been clocked out for. Whereas Guzma, who was behind all this was nearly laughing in my face.

“The fuck you mean by that???” I was autonomously digging my nails into the chair, getting some of its old polish under my nails.

The way his face went from amused to serious was nearly abnormal, even that change alone was enough to make me realize how defenseless I was against him, yet I kept my hard exterior.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know what you did.” His tone was flat, but I could see he was fuming by the look in his eyes.

So much so, I couldn’t look him in the face anymore. He had the nastiest, the most unsettling glare I’ve ever seen and I could feel myself start to sweat.

My eyes batted in his direction as soon as he whistled to get his golisopods attention and then pointed his index finger with his arm outstretched and and drew a curve in the air towards me.

I looked at him, fascinated yet unnerved by this gesture.

His golisopod waddled in my direction and behind the chair, I had no idea what any of these hand signs meant, I completely forgot how to breathe, until I felt myself getting pushed closer to Guzma before stopping a few inches away from him.

His tall stance towered over me making my eyes involuntarily meet his gaze.

“Would you like me to remind you of what you did?” He cracked his knuckles and put a hand in his pocket, seemingly trying to grab something that was in there.

#Spotify #guzma x oc #pokemon sun and moon #pokemon usum #guzma pokemon #guzma #pokemon #pokemon x oc #skull boss guzma #plumeria

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symphopan · 4 months

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Valentine's Blessings

Chapter 1/5: The Crush

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Alex was a bit bummed. It was Valentine’s day tomorrow at his high school, and being a senior, it felt a bit weird that he was the only one who didn’t have a partner. It's not that he was going out of his way to get girls like other guys, but he did still want someone to be with. The day always made him feel like he was super lonely. The ringing of the bell snapped him out of his thoughts.

“So class, remember to get your assignments in tonight. I know a lot of you might have plans for tomorrow and don’t think you wanna spend time still working on it” The teacher said.

He got up and started putting his stuff in his bag. It was his last class of the day and because today was Thursday, it meant he was taking the bus home.

“So Esther. Anybody interesting ask you to be their valentine?” A girl asked the person standing next to her.

“Ugh… Just the usual ones. None of them are the right one, you know?” Esther said.

Esther, one of the prettiest in school. She had the eye of every guy in school and that meant everyone of them would try to have a chance with her. Of course, Alex also had a crush on her though he never did take his chance. He would learn that every guy who would ask her out would get turned down, so he didn’t out of fear of the same thing happening to him.

“Well maybe that cuz those chumps are me. So what do you as baby, wanna be mine Valentime?” A deep masculine voice said.

“You mean Valentine, Walter?” the girl next to Esther said.

“That's what I said Menia.” He said.

“Marina.” She corrected.

“Yeah yeah. So what do you say Esther?”

“Once again, the answer is no Walter.” Esther said nonchalantly.

“Oh come on. What, am I not good enough for you?” He whined.

“Maybe because you have more muscles than brains.” Alex accidentally said out loud.

They all turned to face him. Well now he’s done it. Walter walked over to him. The big jock only towered 2 inches above him, but was much more built then him. Alex's shaggy black hair, red t-shirt with a black jacket, jean pants, and flat footed shoes, didn’t really help him stand out much. Whereas Walter’s smooth back blond hair, varsity jacket, football team jersey and pants, and nice looking shoes, made him look like the coolest person alive. Although most knew he was kinda dumb.

“What was that twerp?” Walter said aggressively.

“I’m mean… Didn’t your recent girlfriend break up with you cause you couldn’t remember anything about what she liked? And so did the 3 before that?” Alex said.

“So?”

“SO, maybe if you used your head instead of your muscles, you might keep a girl for more than 2 days.”

The girls giggled at that comment. Walter looked like he was in a stun lock.

“Y-yeah well… Y-You're just jealous that you don’t have these.” He flexed as he walked out the room, before running off sadly.

“Why could he not be a girl instead? He’d be a better bimbo than himbo.” Marina said.

“Yeah, and we all know how much you’d love that.” Esther said. She walked over to Alex.

“Hey thanks for that. Alex right?.” She asked.

He nodded. This was one of the few times he got her up close. Her dyed blue-cyan gradient hair went down to her shoulders. She was wearing a neon yellow shirt, with a white jacket over it. Her blue leggings and cyan shoes complemented her legs and he could help but notice how thick they were.

Why must my mind go there? He thought to himself.

“Umm Yeah. Sorry you have to deal with him, Esther.” He says.

“That’s alright. It was really nice of you to do that for me.” She asked

“Oh, don’t mention it. I just hate it whenever guys do that.” He said moving towards the door where they were. “I know right!? They think they’re super cool, but they come off really lame.” She laughed, “You know, given your build I’m surprised that they didn't try to make you one of them.”

He seemed to shrink down at that comment.

“Oh no, I don’t really fit in with other guys. Never really have.” He said meekly.

“Oh sorry, I didn't mean anything by it.” She apologized.

“No, it's fine. Look, I gotta go catch my bus. See ya.” He said as he ran off.

Esther was left there a bit stunned.

“Esther! Did you see what I saw?” Marina asked, her eyes softly glowing with hints of pink and blue.

“Yeah, I did.” She replied with the same glow in her eyes.

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As he got off the bus, and walked inside he noticed that his parents were still out town for work. He went to the kitchen, and put some pizza bites in the microwave. When they were done he took them up to his room. In his room, he sat on his bed and played a game, one of his favorite RPG’s. As he loaded up the game, his character spawned in.

He thought about his interaction with Esther. Why was he always awkward around her and other girls? While he sure he did like Esther most of the others he didn’t yet he still felt odd around them. He looked at his character, a cute tech girl he made in the game, and then around his room at all of his figures of anime girls. He flopped back onto his bed feeling bad for having the figures as felt was just being a weirdo.

I should get rid of those figures, they’re kind of weird to own. Tho they’re very cute, and I feel… Happy when looking at them? Ugh… What's wrong with me? He thought.

He didn’t know why he felt like this, but it happened almost everyday. He decided to head to bed early for the day. He hoped that maybe tomorrow, life would change. Little did she know, she would get her wish.

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This story was requested by the lovely @mistresskabooms. I hope you enjoy this little set up, cuz it going to get a bit longer from here. And yes I know valentine's day was a while ago I still wanted to write something leave me alone.

#tg #transgender #mtf trans #tgtf #lesbian #trans lesbian #hey trans girls can have anime waifus too

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oopsallfanfic · 8 months

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Chapter 20: A Tsukishima New Years

“76 points,” At the sound of your father's voice, your eyes shot open to see a pair of equally frightened red eyes. You pulled away to see Hamamoto Akira standing in the opening between the hall and the living room. His face and voice were an unreadable mix of displeasure, pride, and confusion.

“Father-” He held a hand up to stop you from speaking further, eyes shut tight and teeth gritted against each other as he fought back the urge to grill the young man in front of him. You swear you could almost see the vein in his forehead thrum and pulse with each heartbeat.

“I want the boy and that bottle gone in 30 seconds or less,” Akira said, eyes still shut tight. “Starting now.”

Katsuki huffed as he stood, grabbing the sake and video puck off the table before moving towards your father. He smacked his tongue against his teeth and sneered as he walked past him.

“I saw that look,” Akira said in a low threatening voice that only Katsuki could hear as he passed.

For a moment Katsuki considered the possibility that if he fought Hamamoto Akira, he could win. The moment lasted until he remembered Akira was at one point the #5 Hero in Japan, whereas he could hardly call himself a college nobody. Katsuki shoved his shoes back on and quickly left before your father could turn on him for sticking around too long. As the door clicked shut, your father opened his eyes again to see you sitting cross-legged staring at the dead puck on the table.

“76 points is impressive,” Akira sighed as he entered the living room, crossing over to the couch you had your back flat against. Your fingers fidgeted with the end of your shirt, rolling the hem back and forth anxiously. Akira found his way to the couch, you could see the way his crisp black pants stretched against his knees and crinkled as he crossed his legs. Your heart hammered away in your ears as you awaited the punishment or the chiding you’d get, but it never came. Akira cleared his throat as he straightened his tie, fiddling the end of it much like how you did with your shirt. “I think when I got admitted I only mustered up 52 total points, I must’ve been maybe 12th overall. Impressed my folks enough to let me officially register for classes.”

“Grandma and grandpa didn’t want you to go?” You turned to face your father, emotions switching from anxiety to curiosity.

“No, they wanted me to attend Shiketsu.” Akira shook his head as he spoke, he met your gaze as he told the story. “It’s where all the men in the family went, I had all the leverage to get in. I’d have been automatically accepted just because the family was a frequent donor and had many alumni.”

“Why didn’t you go then? It would’ve been easy to follow your dream and get into a great school.” You picked yourself up and switched to sitting on the plush couch, tucking your legs underneath and leaning against the back of the chair.

“I was the middle child of three boys, the second son. At no point in my mind had it occurred to me that I’d run the family business, that the agency my father had started would be mine. So I thought of taking a leap of faith. Choosing U.A. for me meant I would have no safety net to fall back on should something go wrong. The family shamed me for a long time but once I graduated they welcomed me back with hesitant arms. Not until my brother died after getting involved with the wrong type of people did they have to accept me fully. It’s strange really, what one little decision like which school you go to can change the taste in someone else's mouth. I wanted to make sure to raise you that way, to not change the way you feel about someone based on one little thing. I have to say though, I’m not very good at following that rule myself either.” He met your eyes again with a lovingly stern look. “I’m not going to get on to you about the alcohol, just don’t make underage drinking a habit. I am going to get on to you about having a young man over when you’re alone. I understand you can take care of yourself but I still worry about you, you’re my only child. You can see why I would want the best for you.”

“I understand,” You nodded slowly, relieved to hear your father say he wasn’t mad at you.

“On the topic of wanting the best for you...” He trailed. Your head tilted at the tone he used. “I have to ask, Bakugo Katsuki? Really?”

“Dad!” You groaned, a bright red blush flushing over your face.

“You should see your face,” He chuckled and pointed with another hand over his stomach. You grabbed a pillow and hid the bottom half of your face from him, your words muffled as you grumbled about your father. “I just thought you were more into the dorkier types, like, uh... Oh, right! Ri-Me-Midoriya! That kid that used to come around to the house a lot when you were in grade school. He used to love talking about hero stuff with me then. I wonder what happened to that kid.”

“Right!” You sat up straight and looked around at the table and floor for your phone, “He applied to U.A. too, I wonder if he got in. I saw him just before we went in for exams.”

“I thought that boy was quirkless?” Akira raised a quizzical brow.

“Late bloomer is what he said.” You felt the rigid outline of the device in your pocket and fished it out to send a quick text Izuku’s way. “He should’ve gotten his exam results in by now, he’s probably out celebrating with his mom if he did get in.”

“Speaking of celebrating,” Akira stood up to his full height, brushing the crinkles around his pants. “We should see the Bakugo’s about celebrating together. Mitsuki will be more than happy for a couple of reasons.”

A ‘forgotten’ cake sent you and Katsuki on your latest Mitsuki-sponsored adventure. When the news was official about not only your budding relationship with Katsuki, but your acceptance to U.A. College as well, Mitsuki decided to order a cake for a small celebration across both families. Conveniently enough it was not only a bakery within walking distance, but it was also ‘forgotten’. For a housewife, she sure does forget to get a lot of things you’d think she’d have time for. You thought to yourself sarcastically. Though you were griping about Mituski’s ‘forgetfulness’ in your mind, you couldn’t help but also thank her for the alone time. Katsuki gently rubbed his thumb over yours, his palms warm and sweaty even in the cool winter air.

“So I was thinking,” Katsuki’s voice caught your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts. You hummed, letting him know you were listening, “We should do some school shopping soon, now that we’re officially in and all. We can make it a date, maybe grab dinner before and walk around the plaza for a bit?”

“I have to go pick up my mother’s things from the restaurant,” You tapped your chin as you visualized the schedule in your mind. “Maybe we can go next week, and I can grab her things on the way back home.”

“You guys still haven’t gone back there yet?” Katsuki asked.

“Dad has been finding it hard to, he doesn’t say it but I can see it.” You sighed softly, “I think I can do it though, I mean they’re just things right?”

“Yeah, but they were her things,” Katsuki pointed out, “Because it’s hers, it makes it special.”

“I guess so, huh?” Your resolve began to fade, unsure if you could get her things now that Katsuki put it in perspective for you.

“I can go with you if you want,” Katsuki suggested.

“We’re going on a date, of course you’ll be there, silly,” You were confused by his phrasing, but he chuckled and waved you off.

“No, I meant like to go pick her things up.” Katsuki smiled, “I can go with you if it’s too hard.”

“I think I can do it,” You shrugged, “We’ll see when we get there, yeah?”

“Okay,” Katsuki squeeze your hand.

“Thank you, Katsuki,” You squeezed back, giving him a soft smile before swinging your joined hands. He groaned with a smile plastered on his face, but he didn’t stop you. You loved seeing this side of him, his smiles and laughs reserved for you only.

“I can’t believe I’ve liked you this whole time,” He feigned a frown but gave in to a sweet laugh.

“What do you mean by that?” You teased at his sides.

“I’ve liked you since grade school at least,” Katsuki shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly.

“Nah, can’t have been that long,” You waved him off.

“No, I’m serious, I really-”

“Kacchan, (Y/N)!” The two of you were met at the corner of the block by Midoriya Izuku, his famously messy hair notably messier. He was dressed head to toe in athletic gear, sweat dripping down his cheeks as if he’d been running for miles. Izuku’s eyes landed on your hands clasped together and something deep in your mind told you to release Katsuki’s hand. Instinctively you followed the command, looking bashfully at the space past Izuku’s head. Katsuki frowned at the sight of the young man, but it deepened when you let go of his hand.

“What do you want, nerd?” Katsuki grumbled.

“N-nothing,” Izuku stuttered, “I was just saying your names, that’s all.”

“Keep my name out of your damn mouth, understood?” Without awaiting his reply, Katsuki crashed his shoulder into Izuku’s as he walked past him and across the street. Leaving you with your mouth gaped open in surprise, unsure of how he could flip his attitude so quickly at just the sight of Izuku.

“Understood,” Izuku muttered meekly.

“I’m sorry about him,” You gave Izuku a crooked smile, “Congratulations on the exams though, I’ve wanted to call or visit since you told me the good news.”

“Right!” Izuku’s attitude perked up, “Thank you, and congratulations to you as well. I guess for multiple reasons,” He jammed a thumb back in the direction of Katsuki, the young man entering the bakery on the next block alone.

“Yes, uhm, thank you,” You gave him an uncertain smile as the thoughts you had swimming in your subconscious came to the forefront of your mind. Is it weird that I’m dating his bully? Izuku and I haven’t always been best friends, but we’ve known each other for a long time. “I hope that it’s not that awkward.” You blurted out after a brief lull in the conversation. Izuku waved his hands fervently and shook his head.

“No, not at all,” He said, “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged and looked down at the space between your shoes, instantly regretting having said anything at all. “It’s just, you know, we’ve all known each other for a long time and Kacchan still isn’t the kindest person in the world. I guess a part of me feels guilty for liking him so much when I know he’s inflicted a lot of pain on others.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty about that at all,” Izuku was unexpectedly sweet, especially since the conversation was about his bully. As you remembered it though, you never heard Izuku speak negatively about Katsuki. “I think if he makes you feel good about yourself and makes you happy in his actions, then you’ve made the right choice.”

“I guess you’re right,” You picked your head back up to meet Izuku’s eyes, the knot in your stomach loosening. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Katsuki exit the bakery and make his way over to you slowly.

“I think the two of you are kind of perfect for each other now that I thought about it more.” A pensive hand touching his chin.

“What do you mean by that?” You asked.

“Well, above all Kacchan admires strength and wit,” Izuku gave you a sweet smile, “You have both!”

“I guess he does, huh?” You chuckled and looked over to the young man across the street, the cake box balanced delicately in his hands. “Well, looks like he’s back. He’ll probably yell at you to scram or something.”

“Yeah, that’s Kacchan for ya!” Izuku gave you another one of his signature toothy grins and began to jog away.

“Scram nerd!” Katsuki yelled after Izuku, well on his way across the street.

“How uninspired,” You sighed and rolled your eyes at him, a look of disbelief plastered on his face. You turned and started walking without him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Katsuki shouted after you.

The Tsukishima’s had kept their distance from your family for a long time, always keeping an eye on their daughter from afar. Now that she passed on, their focus fell on you. Ever since her passing, you wondered if you’d ever hear from them again. To your surprise, they reached out after Christmas to invite you and your father to their New Year's celebration. Your father accepted the invitation to not appear rude, but as you both stared at the hardwood gates he would feel regret. A smooth clay wall surrounded the manor with a pillar separating every couple of feet, you noticed a simple black lantern sat on top of each one as it wrapped around the expanse of the estate. The view of the house was blocked by knobby pine trees and great clusters of bamboo, each ginkgo tree that followed along the gravel road had lost its leaves but you could tell in the spring they would canopy overhead. Your father pulled his head back from the window as he announced their arrival in the speaker box, the great wooden gates pulled back and allowed the car to enter. As you drove down the driveway you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about your appearance. Your grandmother might’ve poked at how improper you may have acted sometimes, but to her memory, you reminded her of her daughter. Your grandparents were never in your life before, so you wondered what made you start feeling this now. The need to impress and follow orders, look good, and say the right things at the right time. You began to grow nervous as the car looped around a large fountain in their courtyard, an intricate stone pattern traced the way around the fountain and small paths branched to meet the main home and what seemed to be a garage. Your father stopped most of the way around the circle and parked, allowing you time to get out of the car and take in the greater details of the home.

The Tsukishima home was traditionally Japanese in design, though much grander in height and presentation than typical Japanese homes. You wondered if the family had bought an old samurai home and managed the upkeep of the property for historical purposes. On either side of the front entrance red panda statues sat with their paws neatly tucked next to each other. At the side of the home, you could see a small building with a glass roof that didn’t match what you took as traditional. Presumably a greenhouse, though the chilly overcast sky would provide no warmth or light in such a room. You followed your father up the stone steps to the front door, a magnificent dark wood inlaid with iron accents. With every inhale you could feel yourself grow more nervous, worrying the outfit you wore would not be to your grandmother's taste, or that maybe you laid your makeup on too thick. At the sound of the doorbell, an older gentleman in a simple black and white suit opened the door, his weary face perking into a smile at the sight of guests.

“Welcome,” He motioned a gloved hand to welcome the two of you inside, “The Hammamoto’s I presume?”

“Yes, thank you. Mr.?” Your father fished for the man's name as the two of you entered the genkan, an area that rivaled the size of your old bedroom space in the apartment. The two of you slipped off your shoes and tucked them neatly into an available cubby.

“Suzuhara, now this way please sir,” Mr. Suzuhara let his hand show you in the direction of the hall that leads directly out of the foyer.

The two of you slipped on your guest shoes and followed closely behind. Mr. Suzuhara led you down a hall lined on either side with closed glass doors, you assumed this area to be an open walkway in the spring and summer times with weather permitting. As you walked down the hall you began to hear light conversation through the thin walls, the voice becoming louder and clearer as you turned a corner and stopped at a sliding door. Mr. Suzuhara pulled it back and bowed towards the Tsukishima’s, all sitting criss-crossed on pillows or zaisu’s.

“The Hamamoto’s have arrived,” Mr. Suzuhara only rose at the sound of Tsukishima Gendo’s voice.

“Thank you, Suzuhara,” Gendo began to rise, his family followed him and rose to their feet as well.

“The cook wishes for me to inform you that snacks will be served in 10 minutes, with cocktails to accompany. Dinner will be ready in 1 hour.” Suzuhara retreated as Gendo dismissed him.

“Very well, that’s all we’ll need from you today if you want to take your leave Suzuhara.” Gendo nodded his head in the man's direction.

“Thank you, sir,” Suzuhara bowed again to the family in the room and once to you and your father before retreating down the hallway you didn’t explore.

“So the Hamamotos have finally joined us!” Tsukishima Kenzo clapped his hand against your father’s shoulder, pulling him into a firm hug with a smile on his face. The remainder of the family stood and turned to face your arrival. On Tsukishima Junta’s left was a woman nearly the same age as him, and on his right was a boy no older than 10 who looked fortunately most like his mother. You recognized your grandparents and uncle, though to his side was a woman with an unfamiliar face. Akira bowed politely, and you followed suit, standing straight up only when he did. You gave your uncle an awkward hug as he looped back to you, not yet comfortable with contact from someone who was still a stranger to you.

“Thank you for coming,” He whispered in a low voice so that no one could hear but you, “it means a lot to them.”

You looked over to see your grandparents still standing, your grandfather's stern flat lips contradicted the wide grin your grandmother showed. Matching her smile, you give them a small bow before making your way to a pair of sitting pillows next to your father.

“Glad you could make it,” Tsukishima Junta said as you and your father tucked your legs underneath yourselves, “Let me introduce you to my family,” He patted the boy's back, startled by the impact, his eyes grew wide. “This is my boy, Ijichi, and my wife, Hori,” He gave her hand a squeeze paired with a small smile. She returned the affection and bowed her head in your direction.

“Lovely to finally meet you,” Hori said.

“And this is my wife, Kyoko.” Tsukishima Kenzo had his arm around his wife, rubbing her far shoulder affectionately.

“It’s so nice to meet you all,” You beamed, excited to have a cousin most of all. Your eyes flitted over to the kid fidgeting in his spot, with hands tugging at the end of his clothes and fiddling with his buttons. He gave you a sneer as you met each other's eyes before returning to his buttons. Now less enthusiastic about your new family member, you turned your attention back to your older family.

“We were just talking about how you got into U.A., Mom brought it up, so we got on about our college days.” Kenzo said, a kind smile wrinkling his eyes, “Congratulations by the way, that must be very exciting for you.”

“Thank you, yes it is,” You nodded bashfully, “To be honest I’m quite terrified.”

“I’m sure you are,” Junta laughed light-heartedly, “After all this is an elite university that specializes in hero work. I’m sure seeing all those meatheads lugging around their huge egos is going to be intimidating.”

His words weighed heavily on your chest as you realized that your Uncle Junta wasn’t particularly fond of hero work. Unbeknownst to you, many of his recent campaigns have failed to start up again because of his stance on certain regulations for hero support items.

“Actually,” You looked around the room uncertainly as they locked on to you, “I’m going into the Criminal Justice program myself. I’m attending to become a pro-hero.”

“Oh,” Junta’s eyebrows drew close, his voice almost sounding disappointed more than surprised.

“I don't think it’s a very good idea for a young lady to have to take up such a job by herself.” Junko sighed as she looked you up and down, you could feel her eyes analyzing and taking you in fully as you sat there unsure if you should keep talking to defend your passion. You bit your tongue to avoid talking and further upsetting your grandmother.

“Well, she’s not alone,” your father's voice jolted you out of your emotional stew. “I’m here to support her, and she’ll have classmates and staff to help. Hell,” He looked at you and rubbed your shoulder, “Even her boyfriend got in.”

“Dad!” Your skin prickled and burned as your family looked at you in your embarrassed state.

“She was #2 in overall freshman standings,” His comments now pointed at your grandmother who held a flat tight smile. “I think she’s going to do just fine, don’t you, mother?”

“More than fine,” Kenzo exclaimed, “That’s fantastic (y/n)!”

Between Kenzo’s family of two and the remainder of the Tsukishima’s, they seemed the only ones to seem overwhelmingly impressed. Your grandparents showed hints of a smile that seemed feigned, your uncle and his family remained still as they awaited your grandparents' reactions.

“I’m sure you’re very proud of (y/n),” Kyoko directed at Akira, “I know it’s quite a feat to attend such a prestigious school.”

“I am, but more importantly she should be proud of herself,” Akira rubbed your shoulder gently now, more affectionately. “She’s worked hard to get here, and it’s starting to pay off.””

You nodded firmly and gave your uncle a wavering smile, your eyes darting between him and your grandparents as they shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Before your grandmother could speak what was very obviously on her mind, a young man in a simple purple and white happi belted at his waist with a white strap. He bowed deeply and announced appetizers.

“Please, follow me to the garden for appetizers and cocktails,” He picked himself back up and turned to lead the family out. Everyone rose to their feet and crossed the hall, following the escort down the gravel path into a great yard full of native vegetation. The area was surrounded by a mix of glass and wooden sliding doors, with a heated gazebo in the center. A koi pond formed a U-shape around the platform, its edge neatly trimmed and lined with smooth rocks. Everyone scattered around the gazebo to look over the side at the fish or chat amongst themselves. Your grandparents shared a brief conversation, keeping an eye on you as you picked a strange cracker with caviar on top from a server carrying a tray.

“The direction she chose isn’t exactly favorable,” Gendo grumbled.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about that now,” Junko sighed, “We should still present the gift to her, we’ve already paid for it. Besides, all we’re trying to do is marry her off, her major doesn’t matter if we get it done fast.” “It matters if she dies,” Gendo scoffed, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms.

“I doubt that school has frequent student deaths, it would be all over the news if it did. U. A. College would be shut down if something like that happened on their watch.” Junko retorted. She glanced over at you again, a fresh glass of champagne with diced strawberries sinking to the bottom. “It’ll work out according to plan, so long as we seem approachable and kind. Kids these days are so soft they only react to a tender hand. Just look at her father, doting over her as if she did something remarkable like save someone from the brink of death.”

“Calm, Junko,” Gendo said in a hushed voice, eyeing the family members around them to see if they had overheard the old lady’s rant.

“I’m calm,” Her tone was softer than it had been just a moment before. “Call for her.”

“(Y/N), won’t you come over here?” Gendo waved a hand towards himself as you approached. He took that hand and clapped it against your shoulder, your body heaving at the weight of his blocky fingers. Junko feigned a soft smile, but you could see through the thin veil. You didn’t know what to think of your grandparents sometimes, they could be so wishy-washy when it came to you. Though you knew your grandmother was always hiding something behind the facade she put up.

“Yes, grandfather?” You asked as you anxiously rolled the stem of the glass in your fingertips.

“Your grandmother and I have a special present we’d like to give you,” Gendo looked between you and your father lingering behind. He approached slowly, listening at a distance.

“As a congratulations for your admittance to U.A. College, we’ve arranged to have an apartment rented out close to the school for you.” Junko said, “We hope you can keep focused on your studies with your own space to digest and learn.”

“Really?” You were taken aback by the generosity they showed, despite the cold stares you received from your grandmother you started to see her as someone who was learning to love again. She had lost her only daughter, the only other female in the bloodline was you. Of course, it was hard for her to adjust to a new addition to the family, but you were family after all. In trying to reach out and connect with you, your grandparents decided that maybe supporting your dreams was the right way about it. Or at least that’s how you saw it.

“Of course, dear,” Junko smiled softly and looked up to Akira who was just a few steps away. “If that’s okay with your father, of course.”

“I wouldn’t want to get in the way of a young woman trying to achieve her dreams,” Akira smiled, his teeth grinding behind a tight lip.

“We can hammer out the details later,” For the first time you saw Gendo crack a smile, “Let’s get back to enjoying the company of family and celebrating the new year!”

3 notes · View notes

tinyyoungblood · 3 years

Note

hi!! do you know that tiktok trend where the girl asks her bf if he can temporarily break up with her so she can be heartbroken when she listens to olivia rodrigo’s new album and the bf always says no? could you do that but with peter and avenger!reader? i don’t really know how the avengers play into that but i trust you to think of something great. love your work babes <3

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey fren, tysm <3 i do know that trend, and it always warms my darn heart. you probably meant for this to be a headcanon but halfway through i realised that i was writing full sentences, so i just rolled with it bc i have no self-control lol enjoy x

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Peter, I need you to break up with me.”

Not a moment later, you heard a series of loud crashes and Peter stumbled out of the bathroom, hopping on one leg while fiddling with his zipper. “What did you just say?” His eyes were wild as they scanned your face.

“I need you to break up with me,” you repeated calmly, not taking your eyes off your laptop.

“Break up with you?” Peter echoed, hand raking through his hair in bewilderment. “Why would I do that? Do you want to break up?”

This made you look up. Peter was staring at you like you had just insulted his face, making it quite an effort to stay serious. “It’s just for 34 minutes and 46 seconds,” you assured. “So I can listen to Olivia Rodrigo’s new album.”

He blinked at you.

“What?”

“Please?” You set your laptop aside, shuffling to the end of the bed so you were sitting right in front of him. “I want to listen to it in full effect with a broken heart and everything.”

“I…” Peter slowly shook his head. A helpless laugh escaped him. “Um, no. Thank you.” He turned and made to return to the bathroom.

“Peter,” you whined and grabbed for his hand, pulling him to a halt.

“Sorry, angel.” He shrugged, supressing the faint tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Pleeeeaase.”

“Nope.”

You pouted. “We can break up when you train with Bucky! In that way you won’t even notice because you’ll be busy and distracted. I won’t even be on your mind.” You weren’t sure what you had said that made Peter stare at you like you were insane, but it took him a second to snap out of it.

He cupped your face with his hands and made sure to meet your eyes. “Babe, I think about you all the time.” He said it like it was a wish he wanted to word correctly. Slow and precise. Then he switched to a lighter tone that implied that he was done with the conversation. “I’m not breaking up with you.” With that he turned and left for the bathroom.

“Fine,” you called back although the water was already running and you doubted that Peter could hear you. And if he did, he probably didn’t care. You took that as your cue to leave. Defeated, you plucked your headphones into your phone and picked out a song of Olivia’s album at random.

Steve was lounging on the couch of the common room when you entered. He looked up from his magazine and gave you a small smile by way of greeting. You returned it by tapping two fingers at your temple in salute, ignoring the way how his stare lingered a little longer. You sat down next to him. When you locked eyes again, you saw the silent question on his face and let out a laugh. It ended up sounding more like a delightful scoff.

“I know Tony takes pride in being the philanthropist amongst us, but for someone who grew up in the ice age, you’re really good at reading people’s faces.” You wanted to annoy Steve, maybe even coax out a laugh, but he just kept looking at you, and you held his gaze. You were good at it—an aftereffect of living with Bucky who happened to love the same yoghurt as you did. Sometimes you put all western movies to shame with the way you narrowed your eyes at each other early in the morning in front of the fridge.

To your luck, Steve was just as stubborn, which meant that you two could’ve kept it going until death if it weren’t for the door banging open.

“I can’t believe you did this to me!” A voice boomed. You took a wild guess and assumed it was Clint.

“Tell me about it!” Another voice bellowed right back.

A second later, Sam and Clint marched into the room, furious, whereas Bucky strolled in behind them with no care in the world.

The former two were holding bags of food. Both were animated and waving their arms through the air while arguing. You turned down the volume of your phone in time to hear Steve demand, “What’s going on?”

Clint and Sam stared daggers at Bucky until Steve amended, “Buck, what did you do?”

The man in question turned around, facing his best friend in exasperation. “I asked these two to get food for me.” This earned him a snarl. Bucky waved them off and examined his metal arm, unconcerned. “Honestly, I have no idea why they’re getting so worked up about it.”

“We—” Sam gestured wildly between Clint and himself. “—were asked to pick up food for him from two different places. And neither of us knew about it!”

“Yes, neither of us knew,” Clint chimed in, eyes narrowing at Bucky who was busy flicking dust off his arm. “And I don’t know about you, Sam, but I was touched. I was moved, okay? Because Bucky never asks for anything and here I was, thinking we’re starting to bond or whatever but now I just feel USED.”

Sam gave a harsh sound in agreement.

“Bucky,” said Steve after no one had anything to add. “What do you have to say to that?”

Your gaze flitted between them, not sure what to expect. Bucky didn’t give any sign of wanting to respond, making you wonder if he had heard Cap at all. But then a slow smile swept over his lips and you noted that it was probably the most feline smile you’d ever seen. It was a smile storybook villains wore after burning down the world.

“The only thing I have to say is that I regret not having the moment they ran into each other in the elevator on video tape, because that—” He turned and looked Sam and Clint straight in the eye. “—was amazing.”

No one spoke.

“Ruthless,” you said under your breath and just like marionettes, the four men glanced you before another argument broke.

You took the chance to turn the volume back up. “happier” was playing and you settled further into the couch to watch the scene unfold. Sam was arguing so passionately that the vein on his neck was making an impressive appearance. Clint, on the other hand, had a palm pressed flat to his chest; his face showing pure betrayal. Bucky didn’t seem to care for the chaos. He tried multiple times to grab for the bags only for one of them to move out of his reach. When you glanced at Steve, you nearly lost it.

He was staring at them like his lifespan had just been reduced to ten years. He looked like he wanted to throw pebbles after them.

Nudging him with your arm, you silently handed him one of your earphones. He glanced at you and hesitated, probably thinking of the many times you had offered him a taste of blaring electronic music. You rolled your eyes and insisted again. This time, Steve took it and you watched in amusement as his brows rose in surprise.

“I like the piano,” he mouthed and glimpsed at the name of the song. You grinned.

In the meantime, Clint and Sam had decided to form an alliance. They had planted themselves in the opposite couch, digging into the contents of the brown bags while Bucky gawked at them from the other side of the room with his mouth ajar and heart ripped out of his chest. Shaking his head in disbelief, he let himself fall into the armchair facing them. He looked devastated. You weren’t sure if you had to stifle a laugh or tears.

Next to you, Steve chocked back a laugh. You quirked an eyebrow and considered him only to realise the reason behind his glee. Bucky was brooding in his seat while Sam and Clint did an excellence job on commenting every bite. Nothing has ever received as much praise as that pasta, and you were certain that if this were a cartoon, there would be rain clouds hovering above Bucky’s head. As if the angels had set it up themselves, you took notice of the lyrics.

I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go

So find someone great but don't find no one better

Bucky was pouting, poking the leather of his armchair with his finger while stealing glances at Sam and Clint. It was perfect. Steve slapped a hand on his chest and he tipped his head back, laughing.

I hope you're happy, I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You were both laughing hysterically. The others had stopped their on-going war to stare at the two of you; their expressions baffled. The song came to an end and Steve gave back your earphone, rubbing his eye as if wiping away a tear. He rose and walked over to Bucky, hurling him to his feet and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, Buck,” Steve said with a note of laughter in his voice. “There’s a song I need to show you.” You smiled as you watched them leave.

“Well, this was fun.” You pushed yourself off the couch and shook your head as Sam offered you some of his sushi. “Thanks, but I’m on a mission to get heartbroken.”

Leaving the men to their food, you wandered the halls and listened to “traitor” as you walked past Wanda’s room. Her door was open and you could see that Vision was in the middle of a chess game with Bruce and Wanda. By the looks of it, Vision was as good as winning and you reined the urge to cheer for him. You peaked around the door frame and saw that Vision had their king in check. Deep betrayal crossed Wanda’s face.

You chuckled quietly and whispered, “FRIDAY, play what I’m listening to right now through the speakers in Wanda’s room.” FRIDAY didn’t bother to respond but not a second later, the lyrics were blasting through her room and their heads snapped up in confusion.

Don't you dare forget about the way

You betrayed me

'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

“Wanda?“ You heard Vision’s careful voice. “What is going on?”

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still

You're still a traitor

“I’m not sure, but these lyrics aren’t wrong…You are a traitor.” Wanda narrowed her eyes at him, slowly bobbing her head to the music. Treason danced in her eyes. It was the beginning of a villain origin story.

“Maybe it’s a sign of God,” Bruce said and you almost burst out laughing.

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

“Hell yeah!” Wanda yelled and this time you bolted down the hallway, wheezing. You dashed right into Tony’s lab and slammed the door.

“What are you on?” He looked up in amusement. You simply shook your head, laughter still bubbling over your lips.

“Just spreading love in this facility.” You waved your hand at nothing in particular and Tony nodded.

“Right, I heard you asked Peter to break up with you to listen to that one album? Very dramatic. I like it.”

“See.” You gestured at him, indicating that he was the only one who got it. “It’s a good album. Maybe you should ask Pepper to divorce you.”

Tony gave a humourless laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think she would come back if I asked her.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled and this time Tony’s laughed for real.

“So what? You’ve just been walking around waiting for heartbreak?” He turned back to whatever he was working on. You stepped closer to get a peek.

“Precisely.”

“Sounds tiring.”

“I’m powered by exhaustion” You handed him the wrench he needed. “Want a listen? I think there’s a song you might like.”

He contemplated the offer and lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sure, why not.” You couldn’t help but squeal. You knew that Tony probably didn’t care but sharing your music was always exciting.

Beaming, you removed your headphones and connected your phone to the speakers of Tony’s lab. The first tunes of “good 4 u” started playing and Tony tapped his foot to the beat, head bobbing just slightly. When the chorus hit, he stood up and you stepped back, thinking he wanted to headbang. Instead, he reached for a tool that was further away. You didn’t miss the way he moved his shoulders in a little dance move though.

“I like this one,” he said, and you flashed him a smile. You continued working on the suit, handing Tony things you knew he needed until you passed him a plier and he froze. You furrowed your brows, glanced at the tool you knew was the right one, and cocked your head in silent question.

Maybe I'm too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all

Looking you straight in the eyes, he flung the plier over his shoulder, opened a drawer, and took out another plier to use on his suit. You gasped.

“How dare you,” you whispered in shock. Tony had the nerve to shrug.

“Enjoy your little heartbreak moment, Y/N.” He shooed you away like a cat. “FRIDAY, yank up the volume, would you.”

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me

“Guys?” Peter’s voice was drowned out by the booming music. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching in amusement as you and Tony towered on the lab tables, using screwdrivers as provisional microphones. While Tony played a terrific air guitar, you sank dramatically to your knees and impressed the crowd with your air drumming skills.

“Guys?” Peter tried again, chuckling. This time you and Tony whipped around at the same time and pointed straight at Peter.

Like a damn sociopath

You threw your arms up in the air and spun in circles while Tony jumped into quite an impressive split leap.

I've lost my mind

I've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom

Just over the fact that I really don't get it

But I guess good for you

The song came to an end, and you leapt on Tony’s table to share a screwdriver with him as you sang the last lyrics together.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

The song ended and all you could hear was heavy breathing. Peter began to clap. “This was great, you guys. Wow.”

You exchanged glances with Tony before making a show of bowing at the waist.

“So this is what happens when I refuse to break up with you?” Peter strolled over to where you sat on the lab table, positioning himself between your legs. Tony chuckled and jumped off to grab a water bottle from across the room.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that,” you said, just for the devil of it.

Peter smiled. “Cap and Bucky are crying over a song, Vision is sending Wanda flowers in ten-minute intervals, and you are down here having a rock concert with Tony.”

You gave him a toothy grin. “I was just feeling sour.”

* * *

stay hydrated pals

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective

A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.

Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.

Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...

TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway?

“You are absolutely unbelievable!”

“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid.

“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”

“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”

“Sherlock!”

“John!” He mimics.

John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face.

“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”

As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs.

Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded.

“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.”

With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open.

“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake.

John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.

Can you come over? Please? SH

It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now.

Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.

He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door.

Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body.

“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.

The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek.

It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together.

That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.

“I’m here, bud.”

Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there.

She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too.

His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker.

His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.

“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows.

“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.

Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”

“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”

“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.”

He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.”

And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-

Oh.

The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory.

Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face.

His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?

Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?

Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.”

She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”

“Hmm, same difference.”

Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.”

He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive.

“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”

“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise.

Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces.

As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep.

For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him.

Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone.

“May I take your shirt off?” he asks.

“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”

“Be my guest.”

In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.

His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets.

“Never undone a bra before?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”

“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”

“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling.

She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck.

“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine.

“N- fuck, no.”

“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”

“I know you will.”

She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years.

“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”

“That depends what you want to do.”

“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”

She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”

“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”

“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”

“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”

Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again.

They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little.

He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name.

“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”

“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words.

“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”

“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”

He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”

And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort.

Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off.

“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”

“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”

“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”

She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees.

“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”

Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…

“You sure you wanna go this far?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.”

He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-

“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”

He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hmm, anything, you say?”

Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”

Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.

This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.

Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane.

Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.

“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.

A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away.

“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”

“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”

She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up.

“Touch yourself f- for me.”

“What? Why?”

Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on.

“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”

She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there.

“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”

She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers.

“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air.

She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair.

His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen…

He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks.

“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”

“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”

“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”

“You have a considerably good point.”

With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.

“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”

“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”

He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Can I…”

“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”

Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had.

His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before.

“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another.

“Please.” She all but begs.

Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.

“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing.

“Hmm, not quite.”

The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?

“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.

“So good.”

She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame.

“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns.

He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly.

The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.

“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”

He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”

Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other.

His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her.

“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely.

Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another.

He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight.

“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”

His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them.

“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before…

She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?”

He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body.

“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.”

Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering.

“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”

He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.”

A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom.

“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”

He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner.

“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”

He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”

“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs.

He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”

As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs.

“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.

“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”

Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther.

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse.

“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks.

“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.”

He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.

“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything.

“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.”

She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly.

“Look at you now.”

After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain…

With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.

In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly.

His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?

The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton.

“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.

Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way.

“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...”

She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”

He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.

“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”

“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”

He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”

Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier.

“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”

“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”

He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”

“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles.

He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.

“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”

“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”

“No, I don’t think I ever can.”

The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs.

And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.

John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…

He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock.

It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag.

She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that .

This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet.

One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”

How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of…

Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.

John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple.

The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone.

She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”

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nepenthendline · 3 years

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A Characterisation/Writing Guide - Autism and ADHD

Hi everyone! This post is going to be a guide on how to accurately write characters with Autism and ADHD. I have been so many works where Autism and ADHD have been terribly written - using so many stereotypes and just nonsense that has nothing to do with neurodivergences, so I hope this helps educate writers and give them more confidence to write such characters.

For reference, I have Autism and ADHD, as well as many friends with either, therefore this information is coming directly from a neurodivergent.

This guide will be split into three parts: characterisation in both Autism and ADHD, Autism chracterisation and ADHD characterisation. This being because Autism and ADHD, while two different disorders, do have some overlaps.

TERMS:

Neurodivergent - describes those differing in mental or neurological function from what is considered typical or normal

Neurotypical - describes those who are considered normal and do not differ in mental or neurological function

NOTE - Not everyone is the same. Everyone is different and will act and feel in different ways, this is simply an overview of how Autism and ADHD typically can be characterised

MUTUAL CHARACTERISATION OF AUTISM AND ADHD:

As mentioned before, both Autism and ADHD do have overlapping traits that can make them look similar at times, although it is important to remember they are two very different disorders.

Autism and ADHD are NOT mental illnesses or learning disabilities. They are neurological disorders that people are born with, and cannot be treated or cured. Neurodivergents can learn techniques to help manage their difficulties, however. It is important to note that while these are not mental illnesses, it is very common for neurodivergents to have mental illnesses (particularly anxiety or depression) or struggle with learning as a result of their difficulties.

MASKING:

Masking is a technique that neurodivergents develop in order to act or speak in a way that is ‘socially acceptable’ or neurotypical by observing and replicating neurotypicals in different situations. This includes subjects such as not stimming/keeping still, not saying particular things, following social cues, speaking with specific tones at specific times and so on.

Not every neurodivergent will mask but most do. Everyone does this to a different extent; some mask 24/7 to the point where you would barely be able to recognise any ‘abnormal’ traits, whereas others only mask in more serious or professional situations and let loose around friends or family. It is up to you as the writer to decide how your character will mask, however there tend to be some trends. For example, those with high-function Autism (especially girls) are much better maskers than low-functioning Autism (especially boys).

Masking is exhausting; it takes a lot of effort to, essentially, act as a completely different person for the entire day. This does not mean that neurodivergents are two-faced in any aspect however. Neurodivergents simply tweak their existing personalities to ‘fit in’ with the people or situation.

Masking in writing:

It is quite difficult to write masking as the person is essentially just acting like ‘normal’. However, there are some things you can include that help demonstrate masking:

Adapted stims* that are much smaller and undetectable than a person’s usual stims, such as fiddling with their fingers or edge of their sleeve, looking around often or slight movements such as swaying or playing with jewellery they are wearing

Speaking more or less than usual and with much more changes in their pitch and tone

Slight cracks in a character’s masking, such as stimming when others aren’t looking, not holding eye-contact when speaking, face or tone falling flat at points

*Stims will be explained in the next section

STIMMING:

Stimming refers to self-stimulating, repetitive behaviours that are done to often calm a person down when in stress, or to show high levels of emotion such as happiness. Both neurodivergents and neurotypicals stim, however there are some difference.

The most common examples of stims are bouncing your leg when sitting in a chair, clicking your pen repeatedly or tapping on a table, which are things that most people have done at some point. The difference is that neurodivergents have a lot less control over their stims, and they tend to be much ‘bigger’, louder, distracting or harmful. It is also much more difficult for a neurodivergent to stop or ‘hold in’ their stims, causing more stress and agitation. Some people have small stims like fiddling with their hands, others have much bigger stims like waving their arms around, and some have harmful stims such as scratching or banging their head against a wall.

Stimming in writing:

If you are ever asked to write about how a character would help someone else/a reader with their stimming, please never ever write about the character stopping the other person/reader. This is extremely harmful for the stimming character and projects a view that stimming is bad or ‘naughty’, and many people have faced trauma over being forced to stopped stimming as it is seen as disrespectful or distracting. Stimming is often one of the only ways neurodivergents can clearly express their emotions. If you stop a stim, the person will simply stim in another way. Instead, try these ways:

Stim toys that the character can use, these are often small and discrete, and can allow the character to stim without harmful, loud or large movements

Distracting the character with something else, possibly an activity, something to hold, or audio/visual distractions

Reassure the character that these stims are ok and they are safe to do around other characters

Take notice of the situation the character is in, why are they stimming? Are they anxious? Are they excited? It is better to prevent the situation in the case of stress rather than try and stop the person from stimming, and allow the character to stim when feeling happy

In romantic situations, allowing the character to stim with their partner shows high levels of trust and acceptance, and it is also comforting for the stimming character to often use aspects of their partner to stim, such as playing with their partner’s fingers or hair

Exercise is a great way of helping those who stim often to release pent up energy

Stimmers can trigger other stimmers, so if you have two stimmers in a room together, chances are they will stim together, getting louder and bigger than usual

SENSORY SENSITIVTY:

Both those with Autism and/or ADHD tend to struggle with sensory sensitivity. This describes how people are easily affected by sensory input (sight, sound, taste, touch and smell). Most cases of sensory sensitivity end in distress, fear, panic and overload, however there are some people who feel comforted by high levels of sensory input. When people deal with too much sensory input, they often go into a ‘meltdown’. This is different for everyone, but often includes irritability, panic, shutting themselves off from others, extreme stimming and a feeling of being severely overwhelmed. Some people cannot speak at all during these episodes. while others may shout or make noises. They are often mistaken for tantrums, bad behaviour or just being grumpy. Young people tend to have much more active meltdowns, such as shouting, stimming, running off etc, however older people (especially girls) then to be more quiet, shut off and unable to continue speaking or doing tasks. That being said, everyone is different and anyone can have a different meltdown.

Sensory sensitivity in writing:

The best way to describe sensory sensitivity in writing is relating it to pain or panic. Often those with low tolerance to sensory input describe loud noises, for example, as physical pain in their head, or certain materials as making them feel faint or nauseous.

Sensory sensitivity relates to any sense, so some people may be terrified of certain noises, feel panicked by certain smells or feelings or feel sick/vomit from certain tastes - please understand the severity of this for some people

Neurodivergents often find techniques to help them with this, such as wearing noise cancelling headphones or playing music or audio to distract them

The best way to help someone during a meltdown is to help them out of the situation and leave them to decompress. This might include letting them sit in a dark room for a while, laying in silence or touching an item/smelling something that brings them comfort

Describing a meltdown for a character can often be similarly written like a panic attack, and often meltdowns can lead to panic attacks for some people, such as an increased heart rate, sweating, crying, hyperventilating/heavy breathing etc.

Struggling to write sensory overload? Try and think how you would feel if you had 30 different voices screaming at you at once, with bright lights and super itchy clothing. Really panicked, scared and overwhelmed right?

Those who are sensitive to sensory input often hear/feel/smell/see things much louder/easier/more extreme than others, so while something may be quiet to one person, it seems really loud to another

HABITS AND COMPLUSIONS

Neurodivergences come with a lot of habits and compulsions, somewhat similar to traits of OCD. These are things such as having to have particular routines, having to carry certain items with them at all times (mine are my BTS water bottle and earphones lol). Without fulfilling these habits, compulsions and comfort items, a person can become extremely stressed, panicked and overloaded.

Habits and compulsions in writing:

Writing these can go from very subtle to extreme, it could be that someone has to get ready in the morning in a particular order, eat their food in a certain way/order or follow a particular route to get somewhere

The odd thing is that neurodivergents are actually pretty bad at developing habits, a neurodivergent could do the same thing over and over every single day, but completely forget to do it one day and never do it again

When writing for characters, some characters may be able to mask their distress when their habits/compulsions are not fulfilled, however others can not do so at all, but either way this sends the character into feeling of panic and distress

A character may develop certain habits/compulsions for different reasons, it could be from experiences, completely random, comforting senses or familiarity and fear

For example when walking into my nearest town I have to walk a very specific route on a specific side of the road or I freak out, this is because it’s what I’m used to and I struggle to deal with change

Speaking of change, a character can be written as anxious or irritated when plans are changed

SPECIAL INTERESTS/HYPER-FIXATIONS:

Probably my favourite topic - neurodivergents often develop special interests and hyper-fixations. These relate to specific subjects or activities that a person will learn about or engage in with extreme focus and dedication. Some common examples are trains and butterflies, where a person will learn and memorise every type of train, or every type of butterfly to exist, and how different trains work or the life cycles of butterflies. This can be of any topic though, as a child my personal special interest was Ancient Egypt and I spent all of my free time learning about the history. As I’ve gotten older, this has changed and my hyper-fixations have been mostly BTS and Haikyuu (with some short ones in between).

Special interests/hyper-fixations in writing:

Info-dumping! Characters with special interests can often be written with moments of info-dumping, where they will talk about their special interest for a long period of time to someone else. They are often very excited, talk quickly and possibly even seem a little frantic when trying to explain their interest - this is something they have little control over and tend to talk for too long or at inappropriate times

Stereotypes are often written in special interests, particularly the example I gave about trains - not every neurodivergent likes trains, please be creative when thinking about what special interest your character may have, if they have one at all

A character may have one long-standing special interest that they’ve been learning about for many years, or they can flutter between multiple hyper-fixations in the span of a few days

Hyper-fiaxtions can affect a character in ways such as forgetting to eat or sleep, forgetting to do other commitments or becoming extremely upset, stressed or unmotivated when that interest is no longer doable (such as if a TV series ends)

Some characters may be embarrassed about their interests, whereas others will happily info-dump with no concerns

FRIENDSHIPS AND RELATIONSHIPS

Both Autism and ADHD can cause difficulties in making and keeping friendships or relationships. This is often due to struggles in communication, forgetting to speak to people, getting bored of social interaction, getting overwhelmed and feeling too ‘different’ from everyone else. Some people, however, can make friends every easily, particularly more extroverted and confident types. Autistics in particular tend to have small groups of friends that they feel truly comfortable with, and may struggle to understand why a person needs other friends/ a large group. This can lead to feelings of ejectment or jealously. A neurodivergent will often struggle to know how a person feels about them without being directly told, and will need frequent reassurance that this feeling is continuous.

AUTISM CHARACTERISATIONS

Talking too much or very little - about 40% of people with Autism are mute, meaning they cannot speak. Characters could also be selectively mute, meaning they can only speak in situations they are comfortable with, or certain people

Autism is a communication disorder, majorly affecting a person’s ability to communicate and understand socialisation. Here is how to characterise Autism:

NOTE - I have used functioning labels here as, personally, I prefer to use them and is more often used where I am from, however some people prefer not to, please keep this in mind

Speaking out of turn - this is either because they do not understand the social cue of waiting until someone else has finished to talk, or because they will forget what is on their mind if they don’t say it immediately

Taking jokes or words literally - this can cause character’s to become distressed when they do not understand a joke, or end up doing a task that was not meant to happen because they took a conversation literally. This also include having difficulty understanding figures of speech such as ‘it’s raining cats and dogs’

Having difficulty understanding the rules of social interactions - this covers a range of things, from struggling to know what to say when speaking to a cashier at a store, to not knowing what to say in certain situations. An example of this is if someone said ‘hi, my name is ....”, the social cue is to respond with ‘hello, it’s nice to meet you, my name is ...”, however those with Autism tend not to understand this and may reply with something else. In my experiences, I often panic and say ‘thank you’ instead, despite this not being the ‘correct’ reply

Expressing the wrong emotions - Autism makes it very difficult to understand emotions, either from others or expressing them yourself. While others immediately know a smile means someone is happy, this is not something that is easy to understand in Autism. An autistic person may laugh or smile during negative situations, or look upset or mad in happy situations as they are either unaware of how they are carrying their body language, or simply do not know what body language fits with what emotion

Difficulty understanding emotion of others - whether it be verbal or non-verbal, it can be very difficult for those with Autism to understand what others are feeling and can often jump to the wrong conclusions

Using the wrong tone of voice or having a ‘robotic’ tone - For the same reason as the last point, those with Autism tend to either sound robotic at times, or use the wrong tone in the wrong situations, such as sounding angry when they are not, however they are often unaware of this when it happens. This also means they tend to be more blunt and literal in their own speech

Not understanding hints - those with Autism often need to be spoken to very directly as they struggle to understand hints or ‘read between the lines’. This could be anywhere from not understanding hints of romantic feelings, to someone mentioning that the trash is getting too full (as a hint that it needs to be taken out)

Difficulty with focus and following lists - this is an overlap with ADHD however the reasoning is often different, autistic people are often perfectionists, so if you give them a list of things to remember, they will focus so hard on remembering the first thing correctly that they forget the rest. Difficulty to focus is often due to a lack of interest in the topic

Attention to detail and ‘all or nothing’ - Autistic people are great at paying attention to small details and often focus on that more than the big picture. They are also very ‘all or nothing’ with how they delegate their focus, if they are interested in something they will put their entire energy and focus into it until its perfect, if they aren’t interested? They probably wont do it at all, this often means that some Autistic people struggle academically because they don’t feel interested in the topics, and therefore have no motivation to do the work

Great at following rules and instructions - despite being bad at lists, Autistic people tend to be good at following rules, this is because they are often black and white, literal and easy to understand, they like structure!

Increased skills and abilities - those with autism are often more creative and intelligent in a wide variety of skills that neurotypicals, in fact to be diagnosed with high-functioning autism, you must have a higher-than-average IQ. Unfortunately the stereotype is that Autistics are dumb or stupid - this is not the case at all

Boys vs girls - everyone is different, however boys and girls tend to act very differently. Boys tend to be more extroverted and loud and particularly struggle with understanding emotions or talking in turn. Girls tend to be more introverted, quiet and can mask much better, but struggle more when knowing if it is acceptable to speak

No empathy? - this is what people often relate to Autism, however this is inaccurate. People with Autism can and do feel empathy, however it tends to be slightly different. For example, if a neurotypical told another neurotypical about a bad situation they went through, the other person would often reply with ‘I’m sorry that happened to you, I hope you feel better soon”. A neurodivergent, however, would often reply like this, “something similar happened to me once.....”. This often comes across rude to neurotypicals, however it is much easier for a neurodivergent to relate the person’s feeling to their own experiences, and share comfort by letting the person know they are not alone

Difficulty with eye contact - good body language often explains that eye contact is key, however this is extremely difficulty for neurodivergents

Forgetfulness - to be honest I don’t know why this is, autistics are just really forgetful. You need to repeatedly tell them to do something or they wont do it

Planning - autistics often need and enjoy planning their schedule. They find comfort in knowing exactly when, where and how things are happening and with who

Shyness and introverted? - many autistics will be shy, introverted and struggle with social anxiety, but this is not the case for everyone. A person can be autistic and be super confident, loud and extroverted - it is a stereotype that being autistic makes you shy and quiet

REMEMBER - AUTISM IS A SPECTRUM DISORDER MEANING PEOPLE CAN RANGE FROM MILD TO SEVERE TRAITS, NOT EVERYONE WILL HAVE EVERY SINGLE TRAIT

AUTISM STEREOTYPES:

Everyone likes trains

They are rude and blunt

They are stupid/unintelligent

They cannot understand rules

They cannot feel empathy

They are quiet and shy

They are disruptive

AD(H)D CHARACTERISATION

ADHD is a condition that affects the focus and attention of a person. Here’s how to characterise someone with ADHD:

Not everyone is hyperactive - firstly, the ‘hyperactive’ part of ADHD doesn’t often mean physically hyperactive, but a person can have ADD where they do not show hyperactive traits

Difficulty focusing - this is much more than just not being able to focus, there are many reasons as to why this is, including getting distracted easily (by external sources or their own thoughts). finding it difficult to understand social interactions, feeling overwhelmed

Hyperfocusing - on the flip side, ADHD can cause people to hyperfocus on certain things, where it takes all their time and energy and they forget to do other things such as eat or sleep

Difficulty with eye contact - good body language often explains that eye contact is key, however this is extremely difficulty for neurodivergents

Difficulties controlling emotions and mood swings - this is often comes out in anger and frustration. This can be for various reasons: they are frustrated that they cannot focus like others, a lack of motivation, get easily stressed and insecurity

Restlessness - this is often seen as being always ‘on the go’, they need to be busy at all times doing different activities. In writing this can be shown as excessive talking, fidgeting, getting bored easily or taking risks

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria - this is an emotional response to rejection or criticism which often looks like insecurity and anxiety. This could be real rejection, or perceived rejection, for example someone saying they are too busy to hang out may trigger an emotional response of rejection, low mood and anxiety in someone with ADHD. This can also lead to anger or panic, and causes people to become ‘people pleasers’ or not try at all

Poor organisation - the opposite of Autism where those with ADHD struggle with planning, organising, misplacing items and keeping things tidy. It is difficult to understand priorities, separate relevant and irrelevant information and time management. Those with ADHD often begin tasks and do not finish them due to restlessness, distractions or feeling overwhelmed by the task

Difficulties starting tasks - ADHD can make it very difficult to begin tasks as they feel too overwhelming, difficult or take too much focus. Breaking down tasks into smaller sections can help this a lot

Forgetfullness - out of sight, out of mind is often the case with ADHD, and so things like post-it notes and reminders can help people remember things they need to do

Multiple thoughts at once - neurotypicals tend to only have one thought/idea in their head at a time, however those with ADHD often juggle multiple thoughts which can lead to distraction and frustration

‘All or nothing’ - Those with ADHD tend to be ‘all or nothing’ with how they delegate their focus, if they are interested in something they will put their entire energy and focus into it until its perfect, if they aren’t interested? They probably wont do it at all, this often means that those with ADHD may struggle academically because they don’t feel interested in the topics. Unlike Autism, they tend not to focus well with repetitive tasks as this lacks simulation

Medication - unlike Autism, ADHD can be helped with stimulant medication that allows them to focus a bit better. This is not a cure as ADHD cannot be cured, however it can be beneficial to some to help manage their struggles

Acting without thinking and being impulsive - to find some stimulation, those with ADHD may act without thinking of their consequences, or can engage in risky behaviour as other avenues may seem boring, please note this is not the case for everyone, and these ‘risks’ may be very mild like trying a new flavour of ice cream. They can act impulsively too and struggle to wait their turn

Communication difficulties - while ADHD is not a communication disorder, it can have affects on communication such as talking out of turn, starting conversations at the wrong times, being insensitive to particular topics or getting too distracted to focus on the conversation

Need reminders to take care of themselves - due to a mix of hyperfocusing and not focusing well, those with ADHD may often forget to do things such as eat, drink, sleep or shower

Quite easy to get their attention - when someone with ADHD is daydreaming, getting distracted or not focusing, it can be as simple as giving them a tap or a smile to bring their attention back to the matter at hand, even if these needs to be done multiple times

Rewarding behaviour - this technique works well as rewarding good behaviour releases dopamine, which is the hormone often lacked in those with ADHD, this allows people to connect activities and behaviours with positive feelings and are more likely to do it again in the future

ADHD STEROTYPES:

ADHD is ‘diet’ Autism

Those with ADHD cannot sit still

They are disruptive

Everyone with ADHD is hyperactive, loud and extroverted

#autism #asd #adhd #writing #neurodivergent #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagine #haikyū!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #Fanfiction

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genshinwritings · 4 years

Text

Pregnancy Headcanons || Zhongli & Diluc

Thank you guys a lot for loving the other pregnancy headcanons ♥ I hope this satisfies your needs, haha~

____________________________________________________________

Zhongli

Zhongli knew that there was something wrong with you. You were avoiding him almost strategically. Whenever you had to meet up with him you made sure that another person was around so you would not have to talk to him about private things. He often pretended that everything was fine in front of other people but deep inside he was longing to know what was wrong with you. Usually you would come around in the morning or in the evening to visit him but within the blink of an eye everything had changed. He didn’t see you daily anymore, whenever he came you left right away. He didn’t know what he had done or said to you that made you react like that but he surely knew that his heart shattered whenever a day passed where he did not talk to you.

He had thought about the circumstances of your relationship and the possibility of anyone threatening you to stay away, yet he could not think about anyone who would profit from keeping you away from him. He felt devastated and he did not know what to do, he had handled a lot of situations with women before but never in his life had his partner avoided him without having an obvious reason to do so.

It was late at night when you returned home, a small shock running down your spine as you felt another presence in your flat. You knew that it was him right away. You sighed defeated as you stepped into the living room, Zhongli neatly seated in the arm chair while sipping on a cup of earl grey. “Guess you’ve been expecting me..” You mumbled as you kicked off your shoes, an uneasy feeling tumbling in your stomach. Zhongli’s eyes focused on yours as you nervously fumbled with your fingers, knowing that he was going to confront you now about the way you behaved the last couple days.

“Would you mind sharing your knowledge with me as of why you are avoiding me?” He spoke low and calmly before blowing cold air to his tea, taking a sip while his eyes never left yours. You had been trying to avoid this conversation with him rather than you had tried to avoid him in general, yet you knew that you had to talk to him about what was going on. “I’m sorry when I hurt you with ignoring you.” You started to whisper, your gaze falling to the ground. “I did a mistake, a pretty big one and I did not want to bother you with it. I’m stupid and you’re going to hate me for it.”

Zhongli raised an eyebrow at your words, placing the cup of tea down on the wooden table in front of him before standing up. He had to admit that he was severely confused upon hearing your words, not being able to think about anything you could have done wrong. Nevertheless, a mistake that would make him hate you. The thought of you being unfaithful crossed his mind, yet he knew that you would never do that, he trusted you too much. “Hey..” He whispered softly, firm hands placing on your shoulders as he leaned down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. “I can’t think of any reason that would possibly make me hate you and I’m sure whatever you have done is neither worse than the things I did in the past..” His voice was calm and soothing your nerves, a small relieved sigh slipping past your lips as your arms wrapped loosely around his middle, leaning your forehead against his chest.

“I’m pregnant..” You whispered into the fabric of his coat, your arms around him tightening as the fear of him pushing you away spread in your stomach. You could feel your heart clench as seconds of utter silence passed, almost feeling like an eternity. You had been more than afraid to see his reaction when you told him, after all he had been with several other partners before who did not let a mistake like that happen.

Zhongli was shocked by your words to say the least, never in his life had he expected this to be the reason why you had avoided him for days. He had prepared himself for the worst already but this was far from what he had expected.

“First off..” He spoke calmly while his arms wrapped around your body to pull you close, one of his hands finding its way to the back of your head to reassuringly caress you hair. “The amount of love I carry in my heart for you makes it impossible for me to hate you. Whereas secondly, there’s always two people involved when it comes to this..” He leaned down to press a small kiss to the side of your head, his strong hand running over your back. He felt your body shivering and trembling in his arms, pulling slightly away from the hug before lifting up your chin between his thumb and index finger to look at you. He saw the sorrows in your eyes along with the fear of rejection, his heart craving for you to understand that he was not mad at all. “I love you, I really do. How could I ever thank you for a surprise as magnificent as this one?”

He smiled softly as he leaned in to catch your lips in a gentle but firm kiss. Even though he had never thought about becoming a father himself, the idea of it sounded more than tempting, especially with you as the mother. He could feel the warmth in his heart again as you relaxed into his touch, a small chuckle leaving your lips as you parted. “I know you’re far from being overly excited but- I love you too and I hope you know that I’m more than happy.” You hummed sweetly, pressing another kiss to his lips.

Zhongli is going to spend all the free time he has to be by your side, always making sure that you’ve got everything you needed. Whenever he can’t come around or has to stay away from you for a while, he will tell the old people in the village to come and look after you. He does not trust a lot of people when it comes to knowing about your pregnancy, he does not want you or your unborn child to be exposed to unknown danger, trying to keep the possibility of anything happening to you as small as possible.

With time he will slowly get used to the thought of becoming a father, often talking to you about the things he’s going to do when your baby was finally born. He bought a lot of children’s books, telling you that he’s planning to read them a bedtime story every night so they might become as interested in books as he is. He will tell you how he’s going to teach them about the culture in Liyue and how he can’t wait to take them out, to show them the most beautiful places. Whenever he is talking about the future and about your baby, you can see a sparkle of happiness in his eyes and you can hear how proud he is from the way he speaks.

Diluc

Everyone knew that Diluc was not the most sincere person when it came to talking, especially not when they were involved with the Knights of Favonius. With you it had always been a different thing, you had gotten to know him when you first arrived in Mondstadt, even before you had made up the thought of joining the Knights. It was a quiet evening when you sat at the bar of Mondstadt’s tavern, Diluc casually working while he was, of course, not the best partner for a conversation. He had told you about some of the people in the city and recommended who you could talk to and who you should avoid if possible. You noticed his disliking for the Knights of Favonius right away, yet you did not dare to ask him about it back then. You visited him frequently at the tavern, pretending to be there for personal reasons rather than only to talk to him. Even after you had joined the Knights, Diluc still treated you the same as before. He told you that he did not like your decision but he somehow found a liking to talk to you which was the reason why he would ignore that small fact about you. After meeting up in the tavern for weeks, he had invited you to go on a date with him or asked you whether you wanted to at least meet him somewhere more private.

You had spent a lot of time with Diluc over the next few months, always making sure that you would stop by at the winery when you were around or him visiting you in town when you returned from a mission. You never needed words to describe your relationship, the both of you just knew that you belonged together. Whenever you were around Diluc was happy, outgoing and almost a man with a soft side. He made sure to never show this side of himself to anyone but you though, always making you laugh when he switched from being soft to being a meanie.

Diluc noticed it quickly when your behavior around him changed. You weren’t as outgoing anymore, often canceling your missions shortly before departing or asking someone else to go for you. It got to the point where even Kaeya asked him what had happened to you that you were often trying to avoid your responsibilities as a Knight. It was slowly getting to Diluc’s nerves, you suddenly changing this much and more than that, you not being around as much as you were before.

He had told his brother that he wanted to talk to you at the winery, for once finding it okay to ask Kaeya for a favor, something he would never usually do. You were surprised as the Cavalry Captain told you about his brothers message for you, a small shock running down your spine. You had tried to avoid to talk to Diluc for a while, yet you knew that he was far from being stupid and that he would see through your act right away.

Diluc was relieved to see you when you arrived at the winery in the evening, a soft smile planted on his lips as he welcomed you at the door before taking you up to his private apartment. You could feel your heart jump with joy upon seeing Diluc’s smile, the last few days had been unbearable as you had tried to stay away from him. Being able to look at him again, to feel his rough hand in yours as he led you through the building, it all made you feel utterly happy.

“I was almost afraid that I did something wrong that you weren’t visiting me anymore.” He spoke lowly before chuckling softly, squeezing your hand in his. “Would you like to drink anything?” He asked you as he let go of your hand, a small smile on your lips as you followed him through the apartment to the kitchen, your arms crossing in front of your chest. “I’ll be fine with grape juice.” You spoke as you leaned in the doorframe, Diluc stopping in his steps upon hearing your words. He looked at you confused and raised an eyebrow, tilting his head lightly to the side. “You sure you want no wine? It’s unsual for you to be satisfied with only juice..” He laughed shortly. Whenever you two met, wine was your usual go to drink but right now you didn’t think of it as properly and appropriate for your situation.

“Well, it’s not allowed to drink any alcohol when you’re pregnant, so I guess.. I have to go with grape juice.” You shrugged your shoulders playfully before taking the glass from his hand, his eyes growing big. He stood there dumbfounded, not knowing whether you were joking or not, stupidly both suited the situation. “Are you joking right now?” He almost whispered, his eyes focusing on yours as a bright smirk formed on your lips. Diluc could feel himself growing mad on the inside because you were playing with him but at the same time he felt a deep hope in his heart that you would tell him that you were not joking.

“I’m not joking, you’re going to be a father..” You mumbled, the smile never vanishing from your lips. You knew everything about Diluc’s complicated past but you also knew that he was going to be an excellent father no matter what. Adding to that he had often fantasized about becoming a father since your relationship had become more serious. He could feel his heart skip a beat as he listened to your words, placing down his glass before cupping your face in his hands, leaning in to quickly press a kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He whispered softly in between multiple small kisses, one of his arms wrapping around your hips to hold you close. “Thank you so much, my love. For everything. For coming into my life and changing everything to the better.”

Diluc is going to be as caring as he always is when it comes to you. Always making sure that he was around when you woke up and when you fell asleep. During the day he was often occupied with his own work but whenever you felt bad or asked him to stay with you, he did as you wished. He was more than happy about your pregnancy, the proud feeling of soon becoming a father storming through his veins. Whenever someone asked him about your pregnancy there was always warm smile on his lips as he stayed silent about the circumstances. He had no problem with letting anyone know about it as long as it did not put you into danger somehow.

#my brain is dead #zhongli #diluc #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #zhongli headcanons #diluc headcanons #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact diluc

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Never too late.

A/N: I hope you enjoy!! I have not proofread this so i apologise in advance!! 💕💕

Summary: Tom messed up a long time ago but can he fix it?

Warnings: Swearing.

W/C: 4.2K.

When Isabelle had asked you to be her maid of honour you took the role immediately, wanting to be there for your best friend. It wasn’t until a few days later that you realised who you may have to interact with throughout the planning and on the day. You were currently getting coffee with Isabelle when the question slipped from your mouth, you hadn’t meant to spoil the atmosphere as you discussed flower arrangements.

“So, um, who did Haz pick as best man?” The question came out before you could stop it. Isabelle carefully placed her coffee down and looked at you with a sad smile.

“I was gonna tell you Y/N/N, I’m sorry.” She said, confirming that it was indeed the man you’d hoped it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” You apologised, guilt settling in your stomach as she reached over and took your hand in hers.

“No, I should have said. I just, well I don’t know, it’s been what? Three years? I thought you’d have gotten over it, no offence.”

“We never had closure, we just argued and that was it. We haven’t spoken since.” You shrugged and Isabelle smiled sadly again.

“Did you want it? Closure?”

“Not at first but then every time I saw him afterwards just brought it all back up, brought up how much I loved him and how much it hurt when we ended things.” You said as you bit your lip, sadness now settling in your chest. It wasn’t often you spoke about Tom, you couldn’t, every time it would make you cry and you could never explain why.

“Y/N?” Isabelle asked quietly and you looked at her, telling her to continue. “Are you? Do you still have feelings for him?” She asked and you shrugged before finishing your now luke warm beverage.

“I don’t think so, like you say it’s been three years. I’ve always put it down to not getting closure.”

“Maybe talk to him? This would be a good opportunity, you’re going to have to see each other a lot.” She suggested and you shook your head.

“No, after the way we left things, I’m not sure that’d be a good idea. I’m not doing anything to ruin your big day, I’ll be civil, I promise.”

You were meeting Haz and Isabelle for a meal to discuss how they wanted the day to go, making your way into the restaurant. You knew he’d be there and you were already prepared for your mind to throw you back to that night but of course all the preparation meant nothing when your eyes fell on him. Your heart twisting as you swallowed thickly and made your way to the table, doing your best to stay composed and civil.

You’d seen Tom several times after the break up, you ran in the same circles, same friends and your respective best friends were getting married. You’d seen him but always managed to avoid him, this time you couldn’t. You exchanged pleasantries and sat down, zoning out as your mind wandered back to that night.

“You’re such a fucking dick Tom.” You huffed as you shut the door to your flat. Tom making his way into the living room.

“I’m here aren’t I?” He fired back, irritated, you’d already argued over text.

“After having to be reminded yeah.” You said and he rounded on you, eyes holding anger towards you.

“I forgot okay? I’m a human being. It’s perfectly human to forget things.” He snapped back. You wish he hadn’t come over now, wish you hadn’t have reminded him of your movie night you’d planned.

“This is the third date you’ve forgotten.” You pointed out and he huffed as he rolled his eyes.

“I’m busy, you know that.”

“So am I and I still turn up to things we’ve planned. Believe it or not Tom, I actually remember I’m in a relationship.” You said as you stormed past him and into your living room.

“Can you just drop it? I’m tired and I’ve had a long day, I’m here now.” He said following after you.

“Sure. I’ll drop it, I’ll just bring it up next time yeah?” You shouted and his nostrils flared as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Stop being so difficult.”

“Difficult? Me? You’re the one who’s seemingly unavailable all the fucking time.”

“That’s not true. I make time for you.” Tom snapped out as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Bullshit. You used to, I’ll give you that but recently? It’s like you’d rather be anywhere else but here.” It was true that in the last month you’d hardly seen him.

“Maybe I do want to be elsewhere.” He shouted and your stomach dropped a little, it was different hearing it confirmed.

“What?” You asked a slight sadness to your voice but he was too angry to notice.

“You heard. You’re so needy and fucking irritating at the minute. It doesn’t matter what I do, you start a fight anyway.” He ranted and your heart stopped. Needy? Irritating?

“Well you’re hardly Mr fucking perfect.”

“You’re right I’m not. I’m fucking human. I know you want me to be this man who does nothing but put you first all the goddam time but that’s not always how situations work Y/N. I have a life outside of this relationship.”

“Yeah I get that, I do. But fuck Tom, I ask for one night of your time and you forget. Or is that even true? Is that you forgot or you just can’t be bothered?”

“You’re ridiculous. You know what? I don’t know if I can do this anymore?” What?

“What?”

“This, us. All we do is fight, I can’t do a single fucking thing that makes you happy. God damn Y/N, last week you got angry with me because I arrived a few hours later than I was supposed to. I would’ve understood had it not been for the fact that I got held up, my flight got delayed.”

“All you had to do was text, that’s all I wanted.” You said, sadness settling in your chest whereas Tom just seemed angry at the situation.

“I did! That’s why I was so fucking pissed off, it’s not my fault you never received it. What else could I have done?”

“Maybe you’re right.” You said.

“What?” Tom snapped out and you let your eyes brim with tears.

“Get out Tom.” You said.

“So I come over to get kicked straight back out, well fan fucking tastic.” He snapped with another roll of his eyes.

“No, I mean get out and don’t come back.” You said and Tom’s face fell.

“Wait, Y/N/N, are you,”

“Yeah,” you interrupted. “This isn’t working anymore, you’re right. Now can you please just leave?” You snapped as you looked at him, he looked at you hesitantly as if he was about to say something but he never did. He composed himself as huffed as he left with a slam of your flat door.

You’d always wondered what he was going to say, you knew he was going to. Maybe that’s why you found it so hard when you saw him, that wonder about what he would have said, would it have changed anything? Was he going to say something nasty, something to try and fix it? You never contacted one another afterwards, returning each other’s belongings through Isabelle and Harrison.

“Y/N/N?” Harrison asked as he waved his hand in front of your face, pulling you from your thoughts as you looked at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Long day.” You said, you could feel Tom’s eyes on you but couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“So, wedding guests.” Haz continued as he clapped his hands together. “You guys are gonna spend most of the day together.” He said as he gestured between you and Tom.

“If that’s okay?” Isabelle added as she looked at you with concern.

“Of course, it’s your wedding day.” You smiled as you tried to ignore the pounding in your head at the thought of having to spend an entire day interacting with the man across from you.

“Brilliant.” Harrison said, he knew you and Tom had ended on bad terms but probably assumed you’d both gotten over it. You wondered deep down if you had.

The dinner flew by and you couldn’t have rushed off to your house soon enough. Wanting to leave behind the awkward tension between you and Tom, maybe this was going to be harder than you first thought.

It was the day of the wedding and excitement was bubbling around the church. You were all made up in your bridesmaid dress, hair pulled up into an intricate style as you watched Isabelle pull on her wedding dress.

“You look beautiful.” You gasped as you handed her the bouquet of flowers. “If Haz doesn’t cry I think I might snatch you up for myself.” You joked and Isabelle smiled shyly. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, pins with diamonds twinkling under the lights, beautiful white wedding dress that fell elegantly around the floor.

“I’m nervous.” She admitted as she squeezed your hand.

“Don’t be. Harrison loves you, you’re gonna be so happy.” You said as you squeezed her hands back. A knock pulling you from your moment. It wasn’t long before Isabelle’s dad made an appearance, stopping as he saw his daughter.

“You look, oh my goodness, you look beautiful.” He said in awe as he embraced her, wiping at his eyes that were now full of tears.

“Thank you dad.”

“That boy has no idea how lucky he is.”

You followed her to the alter, her hand firmly grasping her father’s forearm as they linked arms. You were behind her as you made your way up the aisle, you couldn’t stop your eyes drifting to Tom and you watched as his widened, he was already looking at you. Harrison and Isabelle had made the decision to have the dress rehearsal but keep everyone’s attire a secret for the day, Tom hadn’t seen you in your bridesmaid dress.

The ceremony was beautiful, Harrison cried, well almost everyone cried as they watched the loving couple say their ‘I do’s’ and share their first kiss as a married couple. They made their way down the alter and you let out a shaky breath as Tom approached you, offering his arm out for you to take. You looped your arm through his as you plastered possibly the fakest smile you’d ever given.

“You look beautiful.” You heard Tom’s voice and you looked at him as you continued to follow Harrison and Isabelle. All bridesmaids now having been paired up with another of the groomsmen. Of course you and Tom had to pair up being in the positions you were.

“Thank you.” You said as you bit your lip and he gave you a small smile. You’d always been able to read Tom, always had a connection with him that was unexplainable. He seemed almost sad. He wasn’t giving off his usual vibe, not that anyone else would notice, he really is a good actor, just not good enough to fool you.

The lunch had gone really well, no hiccups, everything ran smoothly. The décor looked amazing, blue and white flowers decorating the table in beautiful glass vases in the middle of each table. You were sat next to Tom, making conversation with Tuwaine who was placed at your other side. The room falling into silence as the speeches started. Harrison’s was beautiful, Isabelle’s father’s just as much and now it was Tom’s turn. You wiped at your eye, the speeches having been so beautiful they’d brought tears to your eyes.

“I’m very happy to be here today and share this happy couples day with all of you. I am beyond grateful that you asked me to be such a huge part of it Harrison, being your best man has been and always will be an honour.” Tom started and Harrison smiled up at him.

“You just have to promise I’ll be your best man.” Harrison teased and Tom breathed out a laugh.

“Done. Your wife looks incredible I want to add, such a beautiful couple. I’ve known Harrison since we were kids and I let me tell you, I have an incredible amount of embarrassing stories involving this young man. Like the time he got so excited when we went bowling that he fell onto the alley, got a strike but of course it didn’t count. Or the time he got so angry playing golf that he threw a club at the floor and almost knocked himself out when it bounced back up.” Tom said which pulled a laugh from the room.

It did a strange thing to you, you were there that day he almost hit himself on the golf course, god knows how he’d done it. The memory of you and Tom laughing as Tom had his arms locked around your waist, you shook your head from the thoughts.

“I could go on but I’ll save his dignity.” Tom teased as Harrison flipped him off, Tom read the paper in his hands before stuffing it back into his pocket, you assumed he’d almost finished.

“I’ve always been jealous of Harrison in a way. He found something good and he kept hold of it, he fought for it and made sure he kept it. These guys have been through some tough times, they truly have and they’ve both seen the other side of it. Harrison has always been better than me when it comes to admitting fault, taking responsibility for his actions, something I’ve never been good at. Watching these two and how in love they are with each other has made me really think about myself as a person and all the stupid things I’ve done in life, the things I’ve lost through my own stubbornness. You really have taught me a lot about love and soulmates, I’m just glad you didn’t make the same mistake I did.” Tom said and you found yourself staring at him, as if he was the only person in the room.

Your eyes met Isabelle’s and she looked just as blown away as you did, Harrison looking up at his best friend with a knowing look. Tuwaine leant over and placed a handkerchief in your hand.

“Here, you’re gonna smudge your makeup.” He said and it only just occurred to you that you were crying, more than you had at any of the other speeches. Was he talking about you? You doubted it, he’s had plenty of girlfriends in the three years since you’d split. You only half listened as Tom finished his speech as he sat back down next to you, the room applauding him as they fell into their own conversations.

“That was,” you said as you cleared your throat. “That was really beautiful Tom.”

“Thank you.”

The wedding party continued on, it was now the evening do, the night drawing closer to the first dance, the last interaction you had to have with Tom and you felt nervous. The tension between the two of you thick after his speech, you weren’t sure if he felt it too and you had got it al wrong. Maybe you just wished he was talking about you, he clearly was referring to someone.

Tom took your hand in his as you joined the married couple in the first dance. Couples slowly joining as Tom placed his hands on your waist and you placed yours on his shoulders. To say you weren’t an actor you were doing well at hiding your feelings.

“You really do look beautiful.” Tom said, eyes finding yours.

“Thank you. You’re speech really was beautiful.” You always were one to give credit where it was due. He shrugged.

“Thanks, I read it online somewhere, I’m no good at writing that soppy shit.” He laughed and you breathed out a laugh. Oh.

It wasn’t long before you finished, Tom leaving you instantly and you missed being in his arms instantly. He disappeared most of the night, you only catching glimpses of him every so often.

“Y/N, you look beautiful.” Sam said as he joined you on the dancefloor.

“Thanks Sam.” You’d not seen him in a long time.

“How’d you like Tom’s speech?” He asked and you furrowed your brows, why was he asking you that?

“It was beautiful.” You admitted and Sam smiled.

“Yeah, I helped him write that.” He admitted. What?

“He said he got help online.” You said utterly confused.

“That’s bullshit.” Sam laughed. “I helped him write that whole thing. That part about being jealous of Harrison? Not what I helped him write, that was completely off script.” Sam said and you stopped your dancing as you looked at him.

“What?”

“Oh come on, that was completely pulled from his heart. You know Tom, that was completely unscripted.”

“Yeah, but he’s had a lot of girlfriends, why would I care?” You said and Sam burst into a fit of laughter at that.

“I thought you knew?” Sam said and you looked at him seriously.

“Knew what?”

“About Tom? About what happened on the stag do?” He said matching your seriousness.

“No?” You fished and Sam huffed.

“He was hammered okay. But he got all emotional and said some stuff about you.” Sam admitted and your furrow deepened.

“What did he say?”

“He regrets the way things ended. Regrets letting you go, said he wished he’d have stayed, told you how much you meant to him. Fought for you. Y/N, he was thinking about asking you to marry him.” Sam continued and your eyes blew wide at that.

“We were twenty-two Sam.” You said and he shrugged.

“We said that but he said it was irrelevant, he knew he’d found his person in you. He said he doesn’t think he’ll ever love anyone like he loved you, he’s tried.” Sam informed you. “I honestly thought someone had told you.” He said as he took in your shocked state.

“No.” You squeaked out.

“Y/N, he’s my brother and trust me, he’s an idiot at the best of times. But I know he loves you, it shocked all of us when he turned into an emotional mess over a relationship that ended three years ago. I think seeing you and the whole wedding put a lot into perspective for him.”

“But why now?” You asked and Sam looked at you seriously.

“Y/N, I think he realises this could have been your wedding. You were both young and stubborn and I stand by that fact but if things had turned out differently. If he’d stayed that night this could have been you and I think he’s realised that.” Sam said as he brought a hand to your cheek and wiped your tears out of your eyes. “Go find him. Talk to him.” He said and you realised you had to, after that revelation you had to. You owed it to the both of you.

“Thanks Sam.”

Half an hour it took you to find him, half an hour of running around looking for him until you eventually found the curly haired boy. He was on the roof, sat on the edge, looking out over the grounds of the manor house Harrison had booked for the wedding night. You had a room booked along with most of the guests.

Your heart was pounding as you let the door shut and your palms felt sweaty but your heart felt lifted at Sam’s revelation.

“I’m not so sure the best man is supposed to disappear.” You said and Tom snapped his head to look at you as you approached. Holding out a hand for you to take as you very carefully placed yourself next to him. The view was breathtaking, he’d always found comfort in the countryside, a complete juxtaposition to his life in cities.

“Probably not but I don’t think Haz will notice. I am planning on going back, just needed a breather.”

“Are you okay?” You asked seriously, you noted his slightly dampened mood all day.

“I never could get past you could I?” He asked with a breathy laugh.

“Nope.” You laughed in return and he smiled at you.

“Just thinking.” He admitted and you hummed.

“I spoke to Sam.” You said after a while and Tom sighed as his ran a hand through his hair.

“Figured it’d be him that told you. How much did he tell you?” Tom asked and you looked at him, admiring how beautiful he was and he really was, always had been.

“Everything, well I assume so. Is it true?” You asked and Tom looked back at you.

“Which part?”

“About the proposal thing?”

“Yeah.” He admitted and you furrowed your brows.

“Why’d you never come back? Say something?” You asked and Tom sighed.

“Because I was a fucking stupid child that’s why. Completely fucked up my chances with you.” Tom said and you nodded slightly in agreement with him, you weren’t blameless.

“Maybe not completely.” You said and Tom’s eyes widened.

“You mean?”

“I don’t think I ever really stopped loving you. I always thought it was closure I needed and then Sam said wat he said and I realised it was everything I wanted to hear. I tried to find the same connection with other men but I just couldn’t and I wondered if it was because I wanted closure with you. It took me until today to realise that deep down it was actually just you I wanted.” You said as a tear slipped from Tom’s eye and you were quick to catch it.

“I’ve never found that connection either. God, fuck, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” He said your heart soared.

“Still?” You asked and he nodded. “Me too.” You admitted and he smiled.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You do. We deserve to be happy in life Tom and you made me so happy. The happiest I’d ever been.” You said. “I was difficult because I was so scared, scared that you’d leave me, find someone else. You got this whole knew life, you were Spiderman, meeting models, all these women I couldn’t compete with.”

“You were never in competition. It doesn’t matter how many other women I met, they were never you, they could never be you. They didn’t understand me like you did. Y/N, there was and is never gonna be anyone else like you.” You were both crying now, happiness surrounding you.

“What were you gonna say? That night?” You needed to know.

“I was about to get on my knees and fucking beg you to let me stay. My stubbornness got in the way, I thought you could do better, have someone who was there for you all the time. Someone who didn’t forget dates and keep you waiting.” He admitted before he continued. “But if I ever got a do over in life that’s where I’d go, I’d get on my knees and beg you to let me stay, let me keep you.”

“Oh Tom.” You sighed out and he smiled shyly as you leant your forehead against his.

“I should have tried, should have fought for you but I was an idiot. I didn’t realise how much so until it was too late.”

“It’s never too late Tom.”

“I hope not because I want you Y/N, I want you back.”

“Kiss me.” You practically begged and he complied, his lips finding your own. His arms slipped around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. Your hands finding his hair as you threaded your fingers though it. The kiss was sweet but fiery, a kiss of two lovers reuniting as he pulled away and his lips found your neck as he kissed it, you moved your head to give him more access.

“I love you.” He said as he peppered his kisses back up to your lips.

“I love you Tom.” You returned as you deepened the kiss. Missing the way he felt, loving the way you molded against him and the amount of passion behind the kiss, something you’d not experienced in almost three years. No man had ever ignited you the way Tom did.

“Oi, oi! I fucking knew it.” You heard screamed from far below you as you both pulled apart and looked down at Harrison. He was outside smoking a cigarette and he’d obviously caught you both.

“Piss off.” Tom laughed back down as you placed your head on his chest and laughed.

“Izzy, baby, we don’t have to pull that bullshit about double booked rooms, you can let your cousin know there’s a free room.” Harrison shouted in his wife’s direction and you and Tom laughed.

“Wanna go back in princess?” Tom asked and you nodded as he stood before making sure you got up safely. “I owe you a proper dance.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland

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piratesfromspace · 3 years

Text

You Again (Frank Castle/Reader)

Frank Castle (the Punisher) x Reader

Word count: 1.5k TW: light description of wound and bruises, implied rape attempt, mention of alcohol, canon-typical violence, reader has ✨issues✨

Female pronouns for reader

Note: Some hurt/comfort with Frank Castle. For unknown reasons, reader can’t go see a normal doctor. This story was inspired by an unpublished fanfic written by a dear friend of mine, in which Frank already helps reader.

MASTERLIST

“You. Again.”

You never had been so happy to hear his gruff voice.

“And you’re a fuckin’ mess.” Frank added, tone flat.

“You should see the other guy.” you croaked, trying as best as you could to smile despite the cut on your lower lip.

You were, indeed, a mess.

Battered and bloody, you were sitting - or more accurately slouching - on the dirty floor, in front of one of Castle’s hideouts door, on a random Tuesday night. Your right hand was badly hiding the knife’s wound on your stomach, the gash in your blood-soaked T-shirt obvious behind your feeble fingers. Angry bruises were already blooming around your wrist, adding yet another painful layer to your miserable appearance.

“Fuck.” He let the word slip between gritted teeth while scanning your body. You were not in great shape.

“Fine, come here, don’t bleed out on my front porch.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, while you tried to put yourself on your feet, before admitting you were too weak to accomplish the simple task.

“I-I can’t... stand up.”

Frank closed his eyes for a second, exhaling through his nose, just like he would do to try and calm himself to avoid scolding a child. He eventually crouched beside you, slipping an arm under the crook of your knees, and the other behind your shoulders, gathering you in his arms and lifting you effortlessly like you weighed nothing.

The door closed behind him thanks to a powerful kick of his foot, and you finally allowed yourself to relax a little, feeling safe for the first time in days.

The dingy flat was nowhere near the level of comfort you would wish for yourself, but he was here, in this room, breathing and alive and focusing on you, and that was all that mattered at this moment.

---

“I’m the first choice when it comes to patching you up I guess.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t have come if I had any other option.”

Frank was trying his best to stitch the wound on your stomach without hurting you too much, but the lack of anesthesia was making it difficult. The witty banter was one way of distracting you, and you were grateful for it.

“Done.”

The needle clattered on the plate he had put on the floor next to the mattress you were lying on. You let out the breath you were holding, pain slowly radiating through your whole body, making his lazy way from the cut on your belly to the rest of your limbs, awakening in its path the dozens of bruises littering your skin. Your vision got blurry for a moment, ears ringing.

“Hey, stay with me.” his hand was on the side of your face, cradling your cheek while avoiding to touch the cuts on your lips. His warm and callused fingertips against your cheek gently brought you back to reality.

You could feel his gaze on your face, cataloguing every cut and scratch, and you did not miss the way his eyes just narrowed for a second when they fell on your neck, his fingers hovering above the bruises there.

“Are you hurt elsewhere?”

“No.” you knew the moment the word escaped your mouth that you had answered way too fast and way too loud for you to be believable.

“You’re so bad at lying it hurts to see you try, you know?”

“I’m f-fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Since you’re the one bleeding on MY mattress, I would argue that it’s also my business now.”

Your defense was pathetic and he was so patient with you, you wondered why you had to be such a defensive jerk sometimes. You slouched a little more, you wanted to disappear into his mattress.

“Truth is… I-I don’t really know.”

“Let me take a look.” It was not a question, but he waited nonetheless for you to nod your approval before helping you shimmy out of your torned jeans. You winced, the movement cruelly reminding you of the freshly stitched wound on your abs.

“Do I need to kill someone?” was his only reaction when the galaxy of black and purple bruises on your thighs appeared from under your pants.

“He’s already dead.”

He knew you were not lying this time, the proudness in your soft voice too earnest to be faked.

“What happened?” he asked, voice so low and caring, like he was talking to a wounded animal.

“You know what happened.” you answered sternly.

Frank wasn’t dumb and it would only take half a brain to do the maths and understand the situation given the bruises on your neck, wrists and thighs, and the broken zipper of your jeans.

“Do you need medication? Something for...” he seemed lost all of a sudden.

“No, Frank, I killed him before anything happened. That was the plan.”

“The plan? You planned on being attacked and… “ he froze, his mind working to make sense of your words. He quickly understood, his expression suddenly changing. If he was looking sorry a few seconds ago, now he was angry.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been up with this vigilante bullshit again?”

“That’s rich coming from you.” you scoffed.

“You’re not a 6-foot-tall trained marine.”

“That’s the point, I can easily lure those guys, unlike you.” You cut him off.

“You should have told me first.”

“What? I don’t need your permission.”

“You need my protection.” he was starting to lose his patience.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Says the girl bleeding on my doorstep.” he snorted.

The bastard got a point.

“At least I’m trying to be useful.” you retorted, in a low blow, a foolish attempt to not lose too quickly.

“You won’t be useful when you’re dead.”

“Right now I wish I was.” you grumbled, running out of replies.

“Don’t you ever say that again.”

“Fuck you Frank. Fuck you.”

He was tiring. You should have known you had zero chance of winning this argument from the get go. You couldn’t even go and dramatically slam the door on your way out. Your shaking legs would barely carry you up. Ok, maybe, just maybe, he was right. Maybe it was a bad idea, and your injured body was just the proof of his implacable logic.

Frank rose on his feet slowly, a hand rubbing on the back on his head - he always did that when he was stressed and thinking too much.

“Stay here until you’re somewhat healed.” his eyes were avoiding yours, his voice too soft whereas you wished he would be mad, because he would be way easier to fight him this way. “Please.”

It’s not like you were physically able to go anywhere else, and truth be told it’s not like you wanted to go anywhere else. The hurt in his voice made your heart clench. You had been unfair, just like usual. A stupid defense mechanism.

You thought about the last time he had to patch you up. A mean fever. Found you unconscious in a dark alley. Frank had taken good care of you, slowly bathed you in cold water to lower the fever, before tucking you against him under a blanket and nursing you back to life the following days. He had even kissed you that first night, and the next morning, when you felt better, he had pressed his body against yours and made you feel even better, this time with different means than some cold water. The memory of his kindness contrasting with your current ungratefulness had you on the verge of tears.

You were mad at yourself.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” you offered after what seemed like an eternity.

”And… thank you.” you added, trying your best to not burst out crying right there.

Castle said nothing, he just left for the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, before squatting next to you and handing you the precious liquid. You gulped the whole shot down, you had not realized before how parched you were.

“You lost some blood, that’s why you’re dehydrated.” he explained matter of factly, voice devoid of hurt or anger, like your little scene had not existed. And that’s why I’m saying nonsense, you thought to yourself.

“I’ll bring you some more.”

Before he could rise up again, you reached out to touch his face. The sudden movement sent sparks of pain through your guts but you did not flinch. His eyes bore into yours and you closed the distance between you. The kiss was soft then fierce, it felt like finally letting go of something that was burning you from the inside, your injury forgotten the second his lips touched yours. The taste of blood in your mouth was soon replaced by the taste of him and the lingering notes of the whiskey he surely drank before you arrived.

Castle fell slowly on his knees, carefully hugging you, breaking the kiss only to bury his face in the crook of your neck and whisper inaudible praises between two “silly girl”.

You closed your eyes. It felt like finally being home. Finally being safe.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #jon bernthal

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noforkingclue · 2 years

Note

Hi! Congrats on moving into your new flat, that's so exciting!! Can I request a Zemo x female reader, where the reader had tagged along with sam and bucky during tfatws and zemo ends up falling for her, he's afraid she doesn't like him back so he kidnaps her, but it turns out she feels the same way about him.. sorry if that was a lot, thank you sm, I love your work! <3

Thank you anon! I'm glad to have my own place although it's taking a little bit of getting used to.

Title: A Welcome Surprise

Daniel Brühl tag list: @anteroom-of-death

Marvel tag list: @geocookie21, @greeneyedblondie44, @purebloodwitch

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou, @spngingerbread21

As the sun peaked through the curtains you let out a low groan and turned over. You pulled up the soft sheets and wished that you could go back to sleep. As you willed yourself to go back to sleep a sinking feeling nagged at the back of your head. In a flash you sat bolt upright and looked around the room.

It was a luxurious room, you couldn’t deny that. Unfortunately it was also one you didn’t recognise. You looked beneath the covers and let out a sigh of relief to see that you were still wearing pyjamas. That was one less thing to worry about but you still didn’t know where you were. You pulled the covers around you as you studied the room. High ceilings, richly decorated and you were lying on a four poster bed. It was clearly an old room and as you shifted towards the edge of the bed you finally saw that there was another person in the room.

Zemo was sitting in a high backed chesterfield chair. He was resting his head in his hands but looked up quickly when you coughed. He looked surprised to see you up before swiftly standing up and marched towards the window. You swung your legs off the mattress and looked at Zemo in a mixture of fear and confusion. Eventually Zemo said,

“I’m sure you’re a wondering where you are.”

“Yes. That would help.”

“You’re safe.”

“Safe,” you snapped, pulled the sheets tighter around you, “Yes, very specific.”

“You weren’t safe there,” Zemo looked over his shoulder but not directly at you, “James and Sam could not protect you.”

“Whereas you can.”

“Correct.”

Awkward silence fell over the two of you as you looked at the floor. Zemo looked back out of the window. You had no idea how you ended up in this situation. Zemo had also been polite to you and you hated to admit that you found his company charming. You spent several nights up together talking about books and secretly enjoying his company. You never expected him to kidnap you.

“I wished that I didn’t have to resort to such drastic measures.”

You jumped at Zemo’s voice. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the glass. You frowned slightly at his words.

“What do you mean?”

Zemo didn’t answer you immediately. Instead he straightened his back and marched towards you. He stood in front of you and studied your face intently. You felt yourself getting hot under his gaze and tried to look away. However, Zemo grasped your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. His thumb brushed against your lips and you swallowed thickly and Zemo’s lips twitched.

“That you would’ve come to me willingly,” he said quietly, “That maybe you might’ve felt something for me.”

“Felt something for you?”

Zemo gave you a sad smile as he bent down. He pressed his forehead against yours and you shuddered as you felt his breath fan against your face. He brushed his nose against yours and said,

“It’s ok. I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll never force you to do anything.”

“Zemo-“

“You’ll want for nothing,” you could hear a hint of desperation in his voice but he quickly covered it up, “I can provide for you.”

“I know-“

“You’ll be safe and loved and cherished,” he continued, “I do apologise for the manner in which I confessed these feelings but Sam and James never would’ve approved. I-”

“Zemo,” you snapped, “You didn’t have to do this.”

Zemo, who still had his mouth open closed it with a snap. Confusion crossed his face and you reached up and took his hand off of your chin. You laced your fingers together and gave it a slightly squeeze.

“I felt the same,” you said, “Do you really think I would’ve stayed up until the early morning if I didn’t,” you coughed awkwardly, “Have feelings for you?”

Once again you were consumed by the intense gaze of the Baron. You gave him a shy smile before pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles. He gave a low chuckle as he sat down next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you rested your head against his shoulder.

“I might’ve made a small mistake.” he said more to himself than to you

“It happens to us all,” you said teasingly, “Although I would suggest going back to Sam and Bucky sooner rather than later. If they find us missing for too long they might get angry.”

“Let’s just stay a little longer,” Zemo said, “And enjoy each other’s company without the interruption of Sam and James?”

#fanfiction #marvel #reader insert #request #zemo #zemo x reader

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booksarelife-stuff · 3 years

Text

our secret moments in a crowded room

Jily (James Potter/Lily Evans), minor Wolfstar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black)

My entry for the September Jily Challenge! @jilychallenge

Prompt: I tripped on the red carpet and you caught me

Partner was the amazing @kates836! Thank you for being an amazing partner!

In a fake PR relationship with Severus Snape, Lily can’t help be distracted by the real person who has her heart.

Word Count: 4,077

Read of Ao3 Masterlist

The car took a sharp left and Lily tried to stabilize herself so she didn’t touch Severus, who was sitting beside her. She made eye contact with Mary, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Mary shot her the millionth apologetic look.

Lily glanced back down at her phone, just in time to see a reply to the picture that she had sent of her in her dress.

Ahdjsfhkjdsf I can’t breathe. How dare you send this to me right before I walk out on the red carpet.

She smiled widely down at her phone.

I don’t know how I’m going to function with you that close and can’t do anything about it.

She smiled faltered for a second, because yeah, that was truly going to be torture for her too.

I’m about to go out. I can’t wait to see you.

Lily bit her lip before typing a reply.

If you think this dress looks good on me now, wait until you take it off.

The message bubbles appeared instantly and Lily’s smile turned smug.

You shouldn’t have said that. I’m going to think about it all night now. Love you

Love you too

She locked her phone and handed it to Mary, who would be holding all of her personal items for the rest of the night. Severus sighed deeply beside her and Lily tried not to roll her eyes.

If Lily had it her way, she’d be arriving with a very different date. But Lily didn’t have a choice. What the studio wanted, the studio got. Including a semi-fake relationship with her co-star, Severus Snape.

They had just finished filming the final season of their wildly popular show, The Hollow Hour. The show definitely didn’t need this kind of press to be successful, but Lily still didn’t have a choice in the matter, considering she had already booked a leading role in another one of their shows.

On-screen, Lily and Snape played Tara and Gideon, characters who had been in love since they were children and fighting in a war where they possibly wouldn’t make it out. Off-screen, Lily could hardly stand the presence of Snape.

It didn’t start out that way. When they’d first met, Lily had thought he was pretty cool. The show had been her first big break, as she had only done television guest appearances before then. Snape had a few movies under his belt, one of which was super popular. Their friendship had started out as his kind of giving her direction when it came to the whole fame thing.

Then, it got a little invasive. He would just be in her trailer, coming in without knocking. He started asking for more date-like hangouts. His disgusting political beliefs started coming out through their conversations and his apparent hatred for their co-star, Remus Lupin because he was openly gay. And he started acting as she owed him something, especially since the show took off.

The rumors had started before Lily realized that Snape was the creep that he was. People saw them pining on screen and going out for the occasional drink after a long day when Lily could still stand him and suddenly, people thought they were in love.

It had been a real nuisance in Lily’s life. Every interview, she tried to squash the rumors, whereas Snape would encourage them. It didn’t help that the show got popular, like really insane amounts of popularity. The character shipping took a sharp left turn into people shipping them.

Snily, they called them. From fanfiction to edits and art to covers of glossy magazines. It was everywhere. No matter if Lily was doing interviews from one of her movies, they would ask about Snape.

And since Lily was some sort of a masochist, she knew exactly what the fans thought of their relationship. They thought Lily denied the relationship because she was very private about her life, and Snape would never say it outright because he wanted to respect her but also wanted the world to know that she is his.

It didn’t help that Snape had accumulated a very dedicated fanbase. Like worship-the-ground-he-walked-on kind of dedication. To the point where Lily would get occasional death threats because she was “hurting him by denying their relationship.”

They never seemed to believe Lily when she said no, much like Snape and their studio. Lily couldn’t flat out deny the relationship in interviews anymore until after the final episode. It made her want to dry heave.

The car was slowing, and Lily could hear the buzz of fans and reporters. They were in the queue now for the red carpet. Mary unbuckled and twisted around in the seat, doing a final check of Lily’s hair and make-up.

Lily smoothed down her green satin dress, her legs bent awkwardly to not crease the dress and also not puncture the fabric with her stiletto pumps. Lily’s after-party dress was hanging up in the back, but Lily didn’t know if she was actually going to attend.

It had taken her a long time to feel beautiful at these types of events. Being considered plus size in this industry felt like a death sentence, especially since Lily refused to play the “funny fat friend” or anything like that. But she felt good tonight, especially with the way it hugged her curves and the bit of cleavage showed.

Severus looked like himself, just in a suit. His greasy hair was covered in dry shampoo and tucked behind his ears. He turned towards Lily and smiled like a cat who got the cream.

“We could make this real, you know?” he said, for probably the millionth time. “You and I would work.”

Lily tried not to crinkle her nose in disgust. “Severus,” she said. “You know I have no interest in that.”

There had been many times where Lily wished she could speak her mind and rip him a new one, but she could not get branded as a diva. So, she played off these uncomfortable moments with a laugh and polite words, even when she was telling him no for the millionth time.

She saw the corner of his lips turn down in a slight frown and averted her eyes to stare straight ahead.

The voices outside got louder and suddenly the car was stopping. Mary jumped out of the car quickly as Lily unbuckled. Moody, Lily’s driver, and bodyguard, also got out quickly to open Lily’s door.

She had to take Moody’s hand to step out. She wobbled when she shifted her weight to her high heels but quickly corrected herself. She was going to have blisters for weeks after tonight. Mary appeared from the other side of the car, hands already straightening Lily’s dress.

They were covered from the cameras here, so no one saw Mary make sure Lily’s breasts were firmly taped into the dress. The low cut of the dress required her boobs to be placed perfectly and one slip would probably cost Lily her career. That’s why Lily had Mary, her best friend since they were children and who now worked as her PA. The back of the dress was practically nonexistent and her long auburn waves tickled her with every movement.

Mary quickly batted away one of her dark coily curls that snuck out of its bun before giving Lily a once over.

“You look gorgeous,” she said, smiling. “He’s not going to want to take his eyes off of you.”

Lily gave her a real smile and a quick hug before stepping away to get around the car where Severus was surely waiting. She already had her red carpet smile on and tried not to pay attention to the up and down look Severus was giving her.

Severus reached out his arm to escort Lily, but Lily walked past it. They said they had to arrive together, not actually walk together. Mary let out a snort of laughter as she followed Lily out to the carpet—to walk with Lily but hidden away.

The lights were blinding as Lily walked out on the carpet. Cameras flashing every second, people yelling questions at her. Lily was now a pro at this, after so many years of practice. The screams intensified, signaling Snape was now making his appearance.

Lily moved slowly down the carpet, making sure her smile stayed in place. Towards the end of her walk, Snape did sneak up on her, wrapping an arm around her waist taking extra care to let his fingers drag against her bare skin. She fought to not recoil away from him.

She smiled and laughed though she wanted to push him away.

The entrance to Royal Albert Hall was full of reporters and cameras. Lily never really minded this part of the red carpet because most of the time it was just questions like “who are you wearing?” or the occasional fun game with whatever fledgling media company had weaseled reporters in.

Lily was heading towards the first available reporter, a young woman who was smiling widely as Lily approached. But a familiar head of dark curls caught her eye, and she couldn’t help the way her attention turned immediately that way.

It had been six weeks since her boyfriend of three years had touched her. Six weeks since she had felt the indentation of him next to her in bed, felt his warmth, had him within her fingertips.

And James looked so good, it made Lily want to pull him away and find the nearest secluded spot. The way his tailored suit hugged the angles of his body, the body that she knew like it her own.

She could feel her heart start pounding in her chest, and she hoped the cameras weren’t picking up the way her hands were shaking.

“Lily Evans!” the young reporter cheered. “How are you on this fine evening?”

“I’m doing great,” Lily said, smiling and resisting the urge to look at James.

“So, you arrived with rumored beau and co-star, Severus Snape,” the reporter cheered. “Care to confirm anything?”

Lily fake laughed. “We just carpooled. Better for the environment.”

The girl’s face tightened a bit, but the reporter knew better than to press.

Lily answered her questions with ease. Who was she wearing? Did she feel good about her role as a presenter? What was she going to do after the final season of The Hollow Hour?

Once the interview concluded, she turned to go to the next reporter.

But there was James, looking at her with a slight smile on his lips. His dark brown eyes did a quick once over of her, appraising her every curve quickly. And goddamn, he wore his glasses instead of his contacts, reminding Lily of the quiet moments in her flat where they were tangled together, his glasses pushing into her face. His normal frizzy curls were more defined thanks to whatever hair product his stylist made him use. His brown skin was as flawless as ever, glowing in the camera flashes in the fading day.

It couldn’t have been more than a moment where their eyes met, but it was enough to thoroughly distract Lily to the point of missing the small bump in the carpet. Her shoe caught and the sensation of falling happened before she felt strong arms catch her.

“Are you okay?” James asked as Lily’s world steadied in his arms, the concern in his eyes.

Lily felt her cheeks redden, both from the embarrassment of tripping on the red carpet and the fact that she was in James’s arms. She nodded but when she stepped back, her right shoe gave out.

She moved away from James’s arms, but took his hand, their fingers clasping each other, to keep her balance as she lifted her dress up to see the heel completely snapped off.

“Well, that’s great,” she said with a laugh. James laughed with her. She wobbled for a second and James’s hand grabbed her side to steady her, his fingers making her burn.

Lily couldn’t help but smile softly at him as Mary appeared, getting on her knees in front of Lily, urging her to turn slightly. She let go of James’s hand and used his shoulder to keep her balance as Mary undid the straps on Lily’s shoes. Mary, who was definitely getting a raise after this, took off her own black kitten heels and gave them to Lily.

She was now several inches shorter and her dress dragged a bit on the ground, but it was better than no shoes at all.

“I owe you my life,” Lily told Mary, who smiled in response. Lily didn’t miss the way she gave James a glance and then a teasing smile back to her. She turned back to James. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” he replied. “I’ll see you around?”

She wanted to say that she would see him tonight, preferably with no clothes, but she just smiled and nodded in response.

As she let go and James stepped away, the last thing on her mind was the cameras catching every moment.

~~~

To Lily’s detriment, her manager had called Mary to tell Lily that she had to be seen at the after-party with Snape.

Lily tried not to recoil at Severus’s hand on her lower back as he led her to the after-party. The cameras were blinding against the darkness of the night, but Lily let herself be led into the venue, Moody doing his best to push back against the raging crowd.

The venue only had a few selective members of the press inside, but it was little enough that it put all the celebrities at ease. There was no real food, just snacks because seeing your favorite movie star get sloshed would sell magazines and get them trending on Twitter.

Lily’s stomach growled. She couldn’t remember the last full meal she had.

Severus kept a firm hand on her back. She smiled and laughed at the right times as they talked with winners from the night. A live band started and Lily’s ears rang with the loud music. She kept knocking back glasses of champagne because at least the buzz would take the edge off the hungry looks in Severus’s eyes and make her not recoil when he tried to whisper in her ear.

Her saving grace came in the form of Remus Lupin somewhere south of midnight.

She came back from the loo and purposefully walked away from where she knew Severus was waiting. The alcohol was thrumming through her veins, and she felt light. Her shoes—or Mary’s shoes—had been kicked off long ago, and she was stumbling through the crowds of famous people.

Remus stood at the picked-over snack table, probably looking for any scraps of leftover chocolate. He had been Lily’s co-star since day one and her favorite to boot. Severus hated him, mostly because Lily liked him more, but also because he was openly gay and in a long-term relationship with the model, Sirius Black, who Snape also hated.

Remus had been the reason she and James met. She also knew that where Remus was, Sirius wasn’t far, and if Sirius wasn’t far, neither was James.

And she wanted to see James more than anything.

“Boo,” she said, poking Remus’s side. The man jumped, almost dropping his chocolate-covered strawberry.

“Bloody hell, Evans,” he said. Lily laughed, already feeling better. She clumsily picked up a biscuit and took a bite.

“How’s your night been going?” she asked. Remus let out an amused huff.

“Same old, same old,” he said. “You?”

Lily didn’t respond and Remus laughed, knowing exactly how her night had been going. They grabbed a few more snacks and Lily proceeded to follow him, hoping that he would lead her to the person she needed to see.

James was sitting at a table across from Sirius, and Lily’s heart immediately started beating rapidly. His suit jacket and tie were gone, just leaving him in his tight white button-up. The top buttons were undone, hinting at his chest that Lily knew better than the back of her own hand.

The sluggish haze of the alcohol in her system reminded her of when they first met. It had been at The Hollow Hour season one wrap party, and Remus had invited James and Sirius. He had caught her eye from across the room, the curly black hair and glasses were a dangerous combination for Lily, especially with the dark jeans that had hugged his very nice arse. She was so nervous that she had had to take a shot before she walked over to have Remus introduce her.

She had taken him home and when she woke up in the morning, recovering from the best sex she had ever had in her life, she found him making breakfast for her.

He stayed the whole weekend.

Then they texted non-stop and started having dates, sitting in Lily’s apartment with take-away and cheesy movies.

And here they were, three years later, hopelessly in love, and pretending that they weren’t because her stupid television show needed promoting.

It hadn’t been meant to be a secret for so long. In the beginning, they just wanted to figure each other out without all the press breathing down their necks. It’s just how it all happened.

It wasn’t like the important people in their lives didn’t know. Their parents and most trusted friends did. And they already decided that once the whole thing with Snape stopped, they were going to go public because they wanted to move in together and finally go on real dates.

Lily saw the way he perked up when he saw her. A small smile on his lips, his shoulders moving back. There was a moment when Lily could have sworn that there were no other people in the room until someone bumped into her.

She slid into the booth beside him, not caring about how dangerous that was, especially when their legs touched.

“Hey,” he said, his deep voice tugging at her in a way she missed while he was gone.

“Hey,” she replied. She could tear her eyes away from him and she didn’t know if she wanted to, either.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said, not even jarring the couple. “Get out of here before you start shagging on the table.”

James raised his eyebrows in question, which Lily answered with a smile. He reached down for his pockets.

“I’m texting Moody,” he said.

Anticipation pooled in her stomach and as she grabbed another biscuit to eat because it was something to do, her hands shook. James placed his hands on Lily’s thigh and she couldn’t think of anything else until he leaned over and told her that Moody said it was all clear.

Even in her drunk state, she located her shoes and practically sprinted to the back door where Moody was waiting.

There were a few paparazzi pictures taken as Lily quickly hopped into the back of the SUV and Moody got into the driver’s seat. He handed her her small bag that had her phone in it that Mary had been carrying. She was too excited to even get her phone out as Moody did two laps around the block before pulling right back into the same spot.

The second James jumped in and the door was closed, Lily was on him. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her, meeting their lips in a deep, but sloppy kiss. Lily kicked her legs up onto his lap and pulled him down as laid down the best she could in the back seat. James laughed a little against her lips, causing Lily to pull away and laugh too.

“Next year, we’re going to this together,” she said, opening her eyes to see him in whatever light that shone in from the windows. She got flashes of his eyes and his wide smile as she sat up, still keeping her legs on her.

“Absolutely,” he replied, pressing a light kiss to her lips. “And we’re going to still traumatize Moody on the way home.”

Said man let out a snort. “No, I’m getting a divider.”

Lily barely remembers the rest of the car ride and getting to her flat. All she remembers is the taste of James’s lips and the feeling of his hands on her.

~~~

The blaring noise of a phone call is what made Lily wake up. She jumped violently, kicking James in the process, who let out a pained groan as Lily disentangled herself from him to be able to reach her nightstand to turn off the god-forsaken ear-splitting sound.

Her hand smacked into the nightstand, but her phone wasn’t there. She realized it must be James’s.

She nudged him and he groaned, but she could feel him move around in the bed. Finally, it stopped and James spoke.

“Hello?” he fell silent. “What are you talking about?”

Lily, who was already falling asleep again, opened her eyes at his tone and suddenly, he was shaking her.

“I’ll call you back Sirius,” James said as Lily sat up.

He hung up the call and threw his phone down on the bed. He tugged at his hair as Lily watched him with wide eyes.

“They know about us,” he said.

“What?” Lily exclaimed, reaching for his phone.

She typed in the passcode and saw the million phone calls from his manager and publicist. She opened Twitter, and right there, trending number one, was a still of James’s arm around her when she broke her shoe.

"Lily Evans, caught in a love triangle."

"Actress Lily Evans and actor James Potter are rumored to have left the BAFTA after-party together despite Evans arriving with Severus Snape."

She clicked on the first article while her stomach soured.

"Lily Evans and Severus Snape have long been rumored to have been dating, but last night’s events have seemingly squashed the rumors for good."

The article went into detail about the rumors between Lily and Severus, before finally getting to last night.

"James Potter, actor, best known in his role on the popular historical drama "Mountainside Valley', was able to catch Evans on the red carpet when her shoe broke. The footage from the cameras that were rolling by the pair has been released.

According to sources, the two are familiar with each other. Lily’s co-star, Remus Lupin is both friends with Potter and is even dating his adoptive brother Sirius Black, so we can speculate that they have met before. Based on the videos, they do seem to be familiar with each other.

What really solidified the relationship between the two actors comes from an unknown source who attended the after-party. 'She sat next to him and then a few minutes later, they left.'

Fans seem to be having a lot of mixed reactions to Evan’s alleged actions.

@snapewife45346 wrote: 'ALL LILY HAS EVER DONE IS HURT HIM. HE NEEDS TO LEAVE HER ASS FOR GOOD!!'

@snnnily394 on Twitter wrote: 'i don’t think it’s true. She would never do that to him.'

@taraisgod wrote: 'They have never said they’re in a relationship, you all are just projecting. Let her be happy!!'

@mountainbaddie wrote: 'Evans UPGRADED'

Lily set down James’s phone, unable to do anything else. She met his eyes and took a deep breath.

Her gut reaction was that it sucked. It sucked that they didn't come out on their own terms. The studio was probably pissed, or maybe they thought the bad press was good press.

But as she looked at James, sitting beside her on his side of the bed, the bed he only rarely got to occupy these days, she realized that maybe it was a blessing.

“We could deny it,” James said, a frown tugging at his lips. “Say that we’re best friends if you think that’s what the studio would want.”

Lily shook her head. “I don’t want you like a best friend. I don’t want to deny myself of you anymore.”

He smiled, soft and sweet. Lily yanked the bedsheets off of herself and crawled over to him, straddling his legs. She was only wearing a pair of knickers and one of his t-shirts. His hands immediately snuck up the shirt and caressed her hips, his thumbs teasing her panties.

“Joint statement?” he asked, as Lily leaned in. She kissed him soundly.

“In a minute,” she said, kissing him again.

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