Trigger warning(s)/Tags: angst, hurt(?)/comfort, fluff, comfort, mentions of insecurities, body image issues, body type descriptions
Word count: 1469 words
Date posted: Feb. 2 2022
•~•
• First of all, this has been on my mind for months so I have to share it
• Second, Itto would be WEAK for a chubby s/o
• Like, you cannot tell me this man wouldn’t be over the fucking moon for any type of s/o
• Regardless of your body type, Itto would give you the utmost respect, love, and support
• It’s already known that this loving himbo would go out of his way for anyone he loves and cares about, even if he doesn’t know them that well
• So him loving all types of appearances is completely within the realm of reality
• He also just gives off that vibe
• But back to the main topic here: our beloved himbo absolutely adoring his chubby!s/o
• He loves to cuddle into your chest or stomach and just be surrounded by your warmth
• His love language is 1000% physical affection
• If you gently pull his head down into your chest when cuddling, he will fucking DIE
• This man is down bad, please take care of him
• He prides himself on protecting you and making sure you’re okay
• He gets into a lot of trouble on his adventures, so he has to make sure you’re okay over everything else
• You’re precious to him, so he’d do absolutely anything to keep you safe and healthy
• Insecurities? Not on his watch
• He tells you how much he loves you every moment of the day
• One day he finds you looking in the mirror, poking and prodding at fat
• It doesn’t click in his mind at first
• He honestly just thinks you’re admiring yourself the way he usually does
• Then you suck your stomach in, sighing out in frustration when you don’t achieve your desired outcome
• He’s still a little confused to be honest
• Confused as to why you’re frustrated
• What’s there to be annoyed with? It’s skin, beautiful skin that he loves to squeeze and kiss and admire as of it was a shining star placed into his hands by a god
• It isn’t until you avert your own gaze, looking away at the mocking reflection, and grab your previously discarded shirt from the counter, that it clicks
• Are you unhappy with your look?
• He doesn’t quite understand this struggle personally, but he empathizes with you still
• He’s far from immune to insecurity, having his fair share of the wretched feeling
• Itto understands what it feels like to have those plaguing thoughts ringing in the back of your mind, screaming at you
• He fears not being able to protect you, thinking he’s not good enough for you or that he’s only going to bring you down with him. The list goes on
• So when he sees you in such a vulnerable state, it breaks his heart
• Especially since you’re fretting over a part of yourself that he loves so much
• Nuzzling his face into your stomach is probably one of his favorite pastimes
• The chub on your arms makes you one of the best huggers he’s ever met
• Your chubby cheeks? The best place to plaster sweet kisses over and over so he can hear your melodious voice giggling while you tell him to stop
• Your thighs are heavenly pillows which he thanks the archons for every morning and night
• Itto understands the feeling of insecurity, but he can’t quite understand this insecurity
• But that doesn’t make it invalid!
• He knows that it’ll be a nagging little voice regardless of what he says
• But if he can help reduce it to just an annoying nagging voice that you can flick away, then he’ll do just that
• Making his way to the bathroom, he steps behind you, looking at the reflection of you both in the mirror
• His arms snake around your waist and he bends slightly to rest his head at the base of your neck and shoulder
• He wordlessly gazes at your reflection, a soft smile taking over his lips at your image
• The words he had quickly planned out seemed to float from his mind, lost in the lovesick grin he adorns
• “You’re so gorgeous.” is all he’s able to muster up
• Realizing he must have seen you, your face heats up, eyes widening and trying to hold back the embarrassment rising in your throat
• Itto sends a silent, understanding smile, before kissing the base of your neck and nuzzling his nose into the warm skin
• “I love you, you know that right?”
• His words never fail to make your heart flutter, but you can’t help but wonder if your heartbeat speeding up is from the sentiment or the anxiety
• “Yeah,” you choke out with a stiff chuckle, “ you tell me everyday.”
• “That also means every part of you.” His voice is muffled with his face planted comfortably in your neck
• He looks back up into the mirror, the gentle, loving smile never having left his face
• “What do you mean?”
• “I mean,” he takes in a deep breath, standing up to his full height, pulling you closer against his chest. “it’s time for us to cuddle and for me to show you how much I love you’re pudge!”
• The words don’t seem to hit as well as he would have hoped, you tiny smile still holding an edge of resentment
• “Why do you like it?”
• “Like what?”
• “My fat. You’re always holding or squeezing it, doesn’t it gross you out?” You sneer at the reflection which seems to mocks you
• “Gross me out? Why would it do that?”
• “Well it’s just.. there. Wouldn’t you want to be with someone that’s more fit like you?”
• Now that genuinely confuses him
• Man is the embodiment of the meme where the woman’s confused with math equations around her head
• “What makes them any different from you?” His hands, still tightly wound around your waist, start subconsciously rubbing and kneading at your stomach. A comforting action he’d picked up fairly early on in your relationship
• “They’re skinny, I’m not. Wouldn’t you want someone prettier? Like with a flat stomach?”
• Your words hit him like a punch in the gut, but the tears starting to form in your eyes only make the feeling worse
• “But you’re gorgeous, I couldn’t dream of being with someone else.”
• Itto’s hands move to your shoulders, turning you away from the mirror to look at him
• His hands move to your cheeks, caressing the skin with a gentle thumb
• “Being skinny doesn’t make you beautiful and having extra fat doesn’t make you ugly.”
• His eyes flit back and forth between yours, holding back the urge to pull you into a kiss that very moment
• “I love you and every part of you. Your chub just makes you all the more better to love and cuddle with and kiss and hug and everything else!”
• He planted scattered kisses along forehead, cheeks, and nose. Muttering “I love you”s between each
• Describing and explaining things may not be his strongest suit but the sincerity of his words is enough to get the message across
• Again, his love language is physical affection, so showing how much he loves and adores you is the best way he knows how of assuring you
• “Thank you, I love you too, Itto”
• You’re still not feeling great, Itto can tell
• Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you have a tired and drowsy look in your eyes
• “So, about that cuddling part…”
• Itto looks at you hopefully, taking in the gentle smile which grows just a little bit wider at his suggestion
• “Okay,” you chuckle. “Come on, I could use a nap.”
• You take his hand to drag him over to the bed, now pulling a lovesick man who seems to be floating on cloud nine
• Crawling under the covers, you lay on your back, opening your arms to your boyfriend invitingly
• Itto’s eyes light up like a kid being given some fresh and sweet dango
• He cuddles up to your chest, placing tiny kisses along your stomach and chest, whispering sweet nothings after each
• Finally, he settles when you gently pull his head down to your chest, running your hands through his hair and humming a small tune
• Hearing your contented sigh, he watches as you slowly drift off to sleep, comforted by the warmth he was giving
• If he was standing he might have just fallen over
• He swears that whenever he’s with you, it feels like he’s died and gone to Celestia
• He’s not fully sure how to help but he’ll do whatever he can to make sure you know that you are cherished and loved. Chubbiness and all
Rating: Explicit!!!! Word Count: uhhhh 470 :) Tags: Smut, Sex Slave, Bondage, Blindfold, Multiple Orgasms
With Sam long gone for the weekend, taking a hunt across the states with Gabriel, you and Dean have the whole bunker to yourselves. That means that it’s time to indulge yourself. The sound of the alarm had Dean throwing it against the wall before slowly slipping down the bed to settle between your legs.
He loves to go down on you, Dean knows exactly what to do and how to use his mouth to get you to cum over and over until you can’t anymore. And he did, leaving your chest heaving as he crawled up the bed until he was curled up at your side.
“I think… you should get the jar” you suggest, and you see Dean’s face light up as he pulls it from beneath the bed. It’s nothing special, a small jam-jar holding scraps of paper with your fantasies to act out, made specifically for times like this.
“I do believe it’s my turn to select one too” he smiles. You smile and lightly nip at his neck as he pulls out a piece of paper. It’s pink, a sign that it’s something that you want to do.
“What’s it say then…?” You prompt. Dean slowly unfolds the paper, reading the words three times to be sure of what he’s reading.
“We get to put the basement to use again” he smiles, showing you it.
–
The cuffs are heavy on your wrists and ankles, holding you against the wall, with a blindfold blocking your view. Dean has already found a use for you three times, held against the wall. The sound of his boots echoing down the corridor fills you with lust again.
This is nothing like what you had imagined when you wrote sex slave on the paper. It’s so much better. You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve had, and Dean doesn’t seem to want to let up yet. The door squeaks open and Dean’s scent hits your nose. He lets out a husky chuckle as his jeans slowly fall to his knees. He slowly grips your thigh.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Mmh… amazing” you murmur, slowly rolling your hips. He chuckles slightly and nips your lip as he slowly eases into you again. You let out a soft moan as Dean fills you.
“You’re so good, (Y/N), so good to me…” he murmurs, his thumb teasing your clit as he slowly builds a rhythm in his movements, so deep and hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over, that has you both coming hard. Dean chuckles slightly as he slowly eases out of you.
He kisses you gently as he gently cleans away the come again.
“I’ll see you in an hour, suga’” he teases, and a moment later, you hear the heavy bootsteps walking away.
summary:life is about making choices, and when the last chance to be happy presents itself, do you take it or leave it? pairing:bokuto kōtarō x fem!reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, angst with a good ending word count: 1921 a/n:hi hi, i’m here to repost one of my favs! this is based on a grey’s anatomy episode and it’s really self-indulgent but i don’t care, i just love it, and i hope you love it too!
Weddings are supposed to be fun, and your wedding day is supposed to be the greatest of all but, why doesn’t it feel that way? The words of your mother and friends were going in and out of your ears without being really registered by your brain, and your body felt dead in Asahi’s hands as he finished adjusting your dress. At the same time, the last drops of makeup fell on your face, and the hands in your hair made you focus on your reflection.
Firecracker -a meet cute with Suna Rintaro (923 words, fluff)
It doesn’t begin with the standard hello, it’s nice to meet you.
Instead, it begins in the middle of a crowded hallway in school as you’re facing off one Miya Atsumu. The disparity in size is what makes him chortle at first, you’re dwarfed by the six foot tall blonde pain in the ass, and that is probably what makes Kita hiss in disapproval, ready to curb his wayward kouhai from courting further trouble with the discipline master.
But from his vantage point, he notices a few things.
First, while Miya Atsumu is currently holding your pencil case hostage, dangled teasingly way above your head, he’s keeping a careful distance from you. Second, you show no signs of being dissuaded by your physical disadvantage, nor are you resorting to whining to get your way - something he detests. Instead, your stance is light and casual. You’re even advancing with deliberate, sure steps towards Atsumu. Third, you’ve somehow managed to shift the terrain to your advantage, cornering Atsumu beside a study bench, his idiot teammate blind to the fact that he’s being played.
Suna does, because he observes and thinks. Like you, he thinks appraisingly. He appreciates that.
Perhaps it’s just sheer curiosity that makes him catch Kita’s sleeve before his captain darts out to diffuse the situation, or it’s his penchant for filming Miya twins shenanigans (his camera was out the minute he spotted Atsumu stealing your pencil case from your bag).
Volleyball isn’t exactly the most popular sport but handsome, charming Miya Atsumu, starting setting of the MSBY Black Jackals has his share of fangirls nonetheless. He has never given you any cause to worry, always keeping a respectful distance from them, bowing and thanking them for their support before trying his best to disappear after matches and teleport himself back home to you.
You know he doesn’t care for fame or the fans.
He only cares about playing volleyball. He only cares about you.
Still, it’s hard not to doubt yourself sometimes when you’re feeling blue. It just happens to be one of those days. You wake up to pouring rain, miss your train, get shouted at by your boss for making two typos in a presentation you only had an hour to prepare for. It all comes to a head when you rush to watch his match and watch as your boyfriend gets swarmed by his fangirls yet again.
He takes a while to notice that you’re being uncharacteristically quiet when you reach home. In his defence, he did just win a match overr EJP Raijin, so he’s busy sending triumphant selfies and taunts to Suna just to rub it in. He doesn’t have Kita keeping him in line anymore (no, the Inarizaki group chat does not count).
But he catches on soon enough when you sniffle into your pillow, pull your blanket over your head.
“Rough day?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles into your back.
He thinks he hears another sniff, the sound muffled by layers of cloth and fluff hiding you from him. Perhaps he should give you your space, let you mope and get whatever it is out of your system, but he hates even the thought of you being sad.
So he slips nimble fingers beneath the sheets, attacking your weak spot with tickles until you squeal with laughter and capitulate, throwing the blankets down while wheezing.
“Wanna tell me what’s wrong, doll?”
He listens as you whine about your day, nods at the right places, curses your boss. But he frowns when you meekly admit that you’re just a little insecure that you’re not good enough for him - not when he has fans throwing themselves at him left right and center - an exaggeration, he disagrees as you huff.
“You’re not allowed to laugh at me”, you poke his belly as he rolls over his side, raises his hands in mock defeat.
“Never”, he avers. “But seriously, ya got nothin’ to worry about.”
Unrequited love with Sakusa Kiyoomi -366 words of angst
Sakusa Kiyoomi understands the function of a human heart. He has a very clinical appreciation for it - the most important muscle in the body, pumping blood through the roadways of the body to deliver oxygen and nutrients and clear waste. That, he understands.
What he does not understand is why his heart constricts with pain every time youturn up to pick Miya Atsumu for practice. Why his atriums threaten to collapse, when you greet him with a bright smile and a chirped ‘Kiyoomi’, why his ventricles threaten to crumble when you turn away to greet your boyfriend with a hug and a tender kiss.
It’s silly. It’s awful. He doesn’t quite understand it.
Perhaps it’s because he listens to Atsumu boast about you all the time in the locker room. About how kind and understanding you are about his busy schedule, how caring you are to make sure the fridge is stocked with healthy meals for him to eat. About the dates you both go on, searching out old fashioned diners and cosy bakeries, running around furniture shops like children envisioning the home you’d like to build together one day.
It doesn’t help that you are one of the few people who respect his space yet show that they’re interested in him, dull, quiet, snappy Sakusa Kiyoomi.
But you’re in a happy relationship, and he would never disrespect that, so he just looks away and tries not to grimace when you look at Miya Atsumu as if he’s hung the stars in the sky.
“Kiyoomi?”
You call out to him, explaining that you heard from Atsumu that his favourite food is umeboshi which you just happened to have on hand, so you made him a bento box of his own.
“Thank you”, he shakily replies as you skip away hand in hand with Atsumu.
He opens the box. Perfectly cooked rice, umeboshi tucked into the very centre, surrounded by a generous helping of karaage and tamagoyaki with a side of cucumber and wakame salad. There’s a cheery note tucked into the box, wishing him gambatte!
Muscles falter. Blood vessels collapse into themselves.
He should look into replacing his heart. It seems to be failing him.
a/n:yall really like hurting omi huh. poor darling.
Miya Osamu takes his time to look up from the pot of pork belly he’s stirring over the stove. “Ya sure yer yellin’ at the right Miya, doll?” he asks, with a playful smirk that only serves to fan the flames of your anger.
“I’m pretty sure your brother didn’t knock me up cos’ I would’ve remembered that”, you spit, bunching up the hems of your shirt in clenched fists, watching with sick satisfaction as Osamu’s face blanches white, wooden spoon falling to the floor.
This is all his fault. His fault for being so ridiculously alluring and handsome that you couldn’t resist taking him into bed even though you were on antibiotics that night. His fault for peppering kisses down your neck in the morning and making you completely forget about popping by the pharmacy that day.
“Sweetheart”, he breathes as he folds you into his arms, tucks you firmly against his chest. “You’re pregnant?”
You sniffle, knocking your fists half-heartedly against the planes of his chest. The truth is - even though you’re married and you’ve always wanted kids, it’s a frightening prospect to confront. Osamu’s busy with expanding his business, you are settling down at your job, it doesn’t feel like the right time to suddenly be saddled with the responsibility of keeping a tiny human alive.
“I’m scared”, you admit, drawing comfort from the warmth from his skin, the steady beat of his heart.
He tilts your face up to him, wipes your tears away with gentle thumbs.
“So am I”, he says quietly. “But if you wanna keep it, I’m in.”
You consider it.
You imagine a world where Miya Osamu straps your chubby little baby adorned in onigiri print onesie onto his back as he serves his customers. You imagine a world where he teaches your child how to slice and dice, their expressions mirroring each other, tongues poking out in concentration. You imagine a world where you and Osamu create a life that’s half his and half yours, a miracle of its own.
Your heart swells. Your fears wither and die.
“I’m in too”, you whisper, laughing with joy as he picks you up and twirls you all around the kitchen.
a/n:as requested by jenny @fail-big. also PSA from grandma nikki: please use contraception and be safe, kids!
summary: iwaizumi finally decided to collect the dance you owed him several years ago.
note: i’ve been listening to zack tabudlo’s song, “binibini”, and i really love it. the line iwaizumi sang can be translated to “dance with me in the middle of the rain, my love.” hihi. enjoy!
Due to an unexpected downpour, you and your high school friends were stuck in the restaurant that was reserved by Oikawa Tōru.
content: first kisses, FLUFF, gender neutral reader, small scenarios most of all, kitten is used once (1) bcos kuroo thinks hes being flirty and smooth, pre-timeskip, high school
notes: i was supposed to take a nap but this wouldnt rly leave my head, take these crumps i hope you enjoy them!!!! i might make more with other teams they were rly cute and fun to make!!! some of the lengths r a little different bcos my idea changed from when i started to i finished!! i tried matching them up but alas, they cant be the same kdfhsjkfs have a nice day!!!
—————————
Haiba Lev
This dude straight up proudly admits to you that he’s never kissed anyone in his entire life, whipping out his phone to show his recent search history containing searches like ’How to kiss someone’, ’Good first kiss tips’, and so forth. You felt embarrassed on his behalf but it also helped to make you less nervous. He then leaned into his backpack that was on the ground by the bench you were sat on, asking with a big grin, “d’you want a mint as well before we do the do?” making you slap him for being so tactless on how to be romantic, followed by a giggle at his antics and a “yes.” While the mints were being consumed, Lev was telling you about the team, ranting on about what he needed to improve and how much fun he had there. Suddenly he stopped, a beat of silence before he asked carefully, “have you swallowed yours yet?”
You swallowed it on accident just because he asked which made you choke a bit. He immediately leaned towards you, his face incredibly close to your own, which made you cough a bit more. After you calmed down a bit he leaned in and kissed you, smiling brightly afterwards saying, “I bet the kiss made it all better!”
summary: miya atsumu loves you for years, but you weren’t ready yet.
now playing: lifetime by ben&ben
note: hi, anon! enjoy!!! lmk what you think!!! hihi.
Everyone from Inarizaki’s side rose from their seats and cheered as soon as the ball landed on the orange court. You watched Atsumu and Osamu staring at each other in disbelief. After months of hardwork, they’ve finally achieved one of their goals for that year—to defeat the crows before they graduate.
Argument and Breakup with Suna Rintaro -450 words, pure angst
You have giveneverything to Suna Rintarou.
Worked your ass off just so you can get into Hiroshima University, and move in along with him when he signed with EJP Raijin. Endured bouts of loneliness when he travels abroad for competitions. Supported him in any way possible - cooking, cleaning, maintaining a household just so you can be sure he gets enough rest.
You’ve done everything you’ve ever could. And yet, you must face the fact that you have to give up your place in his life.
He refuses to acknowledge it.
He refused to even tell you about the amazing offer he got to play in France, claiming when you find out about the offer from his frantic manager that it’s a non-starter, he’s never going to leave you. His mother calls you, his manager begs you - you capitulate, as you always do when confronted with what’s best for him.
“Rin”, you plead. “Take the offer. Go to Paris.”
He stares at you blankly.
“Let’s have dinner”, he says, as if you haven’t spoken. As if you haven’t brought this conversation at least ten times before. But you are tenacious when it comes to his well-being, so you set your jaw and refuse to let him run this time.
“Rin”, you say again. “Stop avoiding the topic. You know it’s for the best -”
“Absolutely not”, he snaps, chopsticks clattering against his rice bowl. “I’m not taking the offer.”
“Is it because of me?”, you ask, and his silence gives you the answer you already knew.
His eyes flash with anger, lips pursed to signal frustration. You know you’re wearing his patience down but you tell yourself it’s all for his own good. It’s like amputating an infected limb - you need to grit your teeth and slash at the ropes tethering him to you with cold efficiency, let him spread his wings and seek out a better, brighter world that you have no place in.
“Let’s break up”, you say, voice wobbling but without any room for argument.
His mouth opens and closes and for once, cool, collected Suna Rintarou loses his composure.
No, he manages to breathe, clutches at your hand like it’s the only thing stopping him from drowning. Please, he says after dinner, when it’s your turn to disregard his arguments on why you two should stay together as you pack your bags. Don’t go, he whispers as you finally slam the door.
You barely make it to the lift. You collapse into tears when you reach the ground floor. You only manage to force yourself to stagger away from the home you’ve built with Rin by telling yourself that it’s for the best.
You need to let him go.
a/n: as requested by the lovely chloe @sunasbabie - don’t come for me, y’all requested that i post it today!!!
Summary: When you try to convince the Miya twins that you were finally over your longtime crush, they somehow start thinking you’re dating Suna —and, for some reason, he goes along with it.
Relationships: Suna x f!reader, mostly platonic!Inarizaki x f!reader (relationships in the tags may be romantic or platonic)
Genre, etc.: fluff, romance, friendship, getting together, fake dating, slow burn, acquaintances to friends to lovers, canon compliant
Warnings:none
Words:2.3k
*****
“No Miyas today?”
“No, not today,” you replied with a laugh. Suna and you stood in front of the cash register of the soba restaurant you frequented. You leaned onto the ebony counter, resting your arm on it.
“So you’re here with your boyfriend instead?” the restaurant owner, Tsukimori, teased, her eyes twinkling.
You froze, wondering if she had heard the conversation the last time you were here. How far did you have to go to keep up this charade? You glanced over at Suna only to see him covering his smirk with the back of his hand.
pairing:sakusa kiyoomi x f! reader genre: unadulterated fluff wc:455 words
a/n:an outtake from my earlier work Broken Compass (read here) which covers the romance between omi and the reader here, can be read as a standalone.
You watch as Sakusa Kiyoomi slides his cufflinks into place, the finely wrought silver catching the light. The significance of them isn’t lost on him when you shyly gifted them to him. Twin compasses, echoing his words when he proposed to you.
If my heart were a compass it would be broken, because instead of pointing north, it will always point towards you.
Still, you wonder if you are asking too much of him right now, even if he’s assured you at least a hundred times that he wants to accompany you to your ex’s wedding as your plus one. You understand Omi well enough to know that he dislikes crowds and loud places, what more a wedding dinner overflowing with alcohol and volleyball players. He would not have agreed to go if not for you.
“Omi”, you catch his elbow, fiddling with the hem of your dress. “You really don’t have to go with me. It’s no problem - I can go alone, catch a cab, I’m sure there’ll be people I can hang out with anyway, it’ll be fine -”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Of course you do - the evening would be so much more enjoyable with your own fiancee by your side. He’d whisper dry jokes into your ear just to make you giggle, rescue you from any awkward social situations with his usual complete lack of tact, and squeeze your hand to reassure you that he’s there.
You’ve never been able to lie to him so you nod.
“Then I’m going with you”, he says as if it’s a done deal.
“You don’t have to”, you protest weakly.
“No, I don’t”, he agrees. “I don’t have to, but I want to. Because it’s you.”
The simplicity and sheer romanticism of his statement astounds you, threatens to swell and swallow you whole. Sakusa Kiyoomi never fails to remind you each and every day of his love for you, slowly building up a lifetime of decisions to show that you are his choice.
He loves you. It’s always been you.
You are going to ruin your make-up if you don’t keep it together.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, suddenly alarmed by the tears in your eyes.
You shake your head, brushing his dark curls gently from his forehead. “Nothing’s wrong, Omi”, you reply, trying your best not to cry.
He frowns slightly, snatching up a tissue to dab away your tears. “Silly woman”, he says lightly. “Getting emotional on what you should already know.”
“It’s nice to be reminded once in a while”, you say, giggling as he snorts and tugs you out of the front door into the waiting cab. You end up enjoying the party because he’s by your side.
a/n:enjoy the fluff today, will be posting heavy suna angst tmr. :)
Miya Atsumu x reader (platonic, maybe) warnings: alcohol mentions, drunk idiots, breaking and entering content: gender neutral reader, dumb drunk antics, fluff, atsumu thinks he can make onigiris, they break into osamus shop, “if i die, im going to haunt you” prompt, short drabble more likely wordcount: 717
notes: i havent actually read the hq manga for a while, so this timeskip knowledge is loosely based off of what i know from tumblr, may not be accurate! i used a prompt from this list! this is pretty platonic but ig u can read more into it if you’d like. first time i tried using a prompt! only my second reader fanfic EVER, i hope u enjoy !!! :^) <3333
—————-
Honestly, you’re not sure how you even ended up in front of Onigiri Miya at 2AM with Atsumu. You were visiting your childhood friend and he decided to treat you to a night in town, where you, after eating extreme amounts of delicious foods in a fancy restaurant you would never be able to afford on your own, also had just a tiny bit too much to drink.
You were walking in the park, your arms behind your back, Atsumu proudly telling you about Onigiri Miya – as if you hadn’t already visited the place a couple days prior when you arrived - and how Osamu would have tuna and spring onion rice balls ready for him whenever he needed it.
“But yaknow, that asshat isn’t afraid to charge me at all,” he complained, stumbling a bit while walking. “But I betchu, I Bet! That I can made just as delicious rice balls, dontcha think so?”
He looks at you with his signature smirk and the confidence he usually exudes on the court. All you did was raise an eyebrow at him while a contemplative and distrusting “hmm,” left your mouth.
Atsumu’s hand rose to his chest in what looked like genuine surprise, almost whispering your name, “How could you say that!”
“’Tsumu, I didn’t say anything?” “That’s what hurts the most!” You laughed, breathing in the comfortable summer air while looking up at the night sky. You honestly thought the conversation was over and he’d move onto something else.
George Weasley was part of a selected big group of friends, with its honorary members being Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and his little brother Ron.
The lads weren’t official members because of the age gap — it was rare the moments where they could hang mid-classes. But it didn’t bother Fred, Lee and Angelina to have the little guys around.
There was another girl too, who George saw as much more of an official member than an honorary one. [y/n] [y/ln] was younger than him but older than his little brother — she was from the year between the two. They became friends entirely by accident — she got caught up on a prank not intended for her and after a not-so-much friendly match of Quidditch where she played gracefully and not at all vengeful, the twins talked her into being part of the friend group.
One could’ve said [y/n] was the one most outof the group, but, surprisingly, she managed well around them. She became very close to Angelina, and she had openly called Fred her very best mate once. Even when Potter was around, she never acted as a “fangirl” — and she noticeably picked Ron over Harry tons of times.
They were all together one afternoon, playing card games in the grass by the Lake when Fred had an idea: steal food from the house-elves.
[y/n] was immediately into it. “We have to be quick then because it’s almost supper time, and they’ll be all up to our arses if they catch us by that time,” she said, getting up and leaving her deck of cards to Angelina to handle.
Ron got up quickly too, ready to follow the girl wherever she went. Fred just smile. “Anyone else for our road trip?” asked the older twin.
“It’s hardly a road trip,” opined Angelina, before winning against Hermione and starting the game again.
Since no one else got up, the three left. George and Lee drew closer to the two girls left, anxious to see if Hermione could beat Angelina, but chances were the Quidditch player was going to win again.
“Has anyone noticed Ron’s fancying [y/n]?” asked Hermione, who had smelled it in the air, way before anyone else, but she just wanted to be sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks.
Lee snorted at the question, trying not to shame-laugh. He hadn’t only noticed Ron’s crush — he noticed Hermione’s too. Angelina simply smiled and kept playing the card game, but George spoke up.
“I dunno how it ends, but [y/n] will for sure be part of my fam,” he said, laughing it off.
“How so?” asked Hermione, tensing up a bit, which allowed Angelina some advantage in the game.
“Well, Ron fancies her; she fancies Fred and Fred…. well, I reckon that bloke hasn’t pashed anyone, that’s for sure,” George replied. “Either Fred falls for her or she falls for Ron, but she’ll end up a Weasley, alright.”
Lee elbowed the redheaded.
“She’ll end up your sister,” he laughed.
“In-law,” added George, suddenly wanting to make sure [y/n] was not blood-related to him.
Angelina and Lee exchanged knowing looks, but Hermione and George were oblivious to the exchange. George was inside his wee world, thinking why it bothered him to acknowledge [y/n] as a sister, and Hermione was wishful thinking that Fred could bloody well fancy [y/n] right away.
The match went on, with Angelina winning that turn and then Lee taking Hermione’s place and losing too — the difference was Lee didn’t care and laughed his loss away. George wanted to play too, but when his turn finally came, Fred, Ron and [y/n] arrived with the stolen food.
“Hey, I wanna go back to my match,” said [y/n], sitting down next to Angelina, who remained unbeatable. “Who’s the winner?”
“Who would you reckon?” replied Lee, smiling. [y/n] liked his smirk, it felt sparkling in the twilight.
“Angie,” [y/n] smiled too as she spoke.
“No worries — I’ve been playing non-stop and George hasn’t had his turn,” Angelina said, moving away from the card pile. “Take my place,” offered the Quidditch chaser.
[y/n] took the offer, and looked straight at George. He had a playful smile, which only increased when he reached the pile and started shuffling the cards for the new game.
In the background, George heard Ron asking Hermione if Harry showed up, and the bookworm replied with a “no”. The younger twin wasn’t facing Ron, but he could visualize the frown on his face. Harry Potter was chosen to be a Triwizard champion, which meant he was generally never free and around — but also, his friendship with Ron was a bit rocky at the moment.
George reverted his focus on [y/n].
“Get ready to eat grass, Weasley,” the girl said.
“We’ll see,” responded George, feeling his grin widen.
[y/n] was late, which meant Fred and George were late too. They planned a quick trip to Hogsmeade, but they were going “illegally” and if [y/n] took a minute longer to get ready, Fred swore he was gonna leave her behind.
“I’m here!” she whispered and shouted, at the same time. George wondered how she managed that.
“You’re late,” the younger twin said, messing with her.
“Just five minutes,” she pointed out, checking her wristwatch.
“Could well mean the difference between getting caught,” George continued.
“Stop, you two,” said Fred, but he knew very well all the bickering came from his twin. George hadn’t found his way around flirting women, and it showed — Fred knew he had to do something about it, but it’d need to be later. At the moment, he only sought to get to Hogsmeade.
“She started it,” said George, defending himself.
“How could I?” she inquired, startled.
“By showing up late,” he answered, frowning his brows.
Fred rolled his eyes and decided not to meddle. They could figure it out for themselves. The older twin, then, took the front of the little voyage group and led them to the secret passageway. The trio went through that one-eyed old crone’s hump, and soon they were in the dark corridor that would lead them away from Hogwarts.
Fred and George had to lean their backs, so they wouldn’t smack their heads, but [y/n] could go most of the way just fine and stretch. She had been there three times before, but it was never easy being in that dim and smelly place.
She didn’t even notice when she edged nearer George Weasley until he offered her his arm. Furthermore, she looked at it, suspiciously, before accepting.
They had a complicated relationship. They were always quarrelling, like too foolish kids that couldn’t possibly like the opposite gender. It was always stupid, but [y/n] couldn’t avoid it — it seemed so nice to bicker with George because then he would look at her sideways and provocatively grin and that usually made her smile too.
She had a thing for Fred from the first moment she learned his name. It had been some girl in her class had been ranking the most handsome blokes of Hogwarts, and when [y/n] asked who was Fred Weasley and why he was in twenty-second place, her classmate smiled and asked: “Why? Do you think he should be higher up?”. [y/n] didn’t think that, of course. At eleven years of age, she barely thought of boys that way, especially the ones one year older, who seemed so much more mature back then. But later she was engrossed in one of the twins’ pranks, and Fred presented himself.
Tall, even for a twelve-year-old, and with beautiful freckles in his cheeks — [y/n] didn’t need much more thinking; she knew she had become a woman, and she was ready to have that man.
They became friends later on, and even though [y/n] never made advances towards Fred, she never tried to stop fancying him either. It just felt natural to have a crush, a since Fred was right there and available, she took him.
Of course, she went out with other boys, specifically last year when she had just turned fourteen, but it never felt quite right. Not even as right as studying with Hermione, not as right as relying on Ronald, and definitelynot as right as bickering with George.
It felt nicer to argue with George than to kiss Oliver Wood! she remembered, in a sudden thought in the middle of the ill-lit hallway. Her expression changed, worrying George, but since she stayed in silence, he did the same.
Oliver had been [y/n]’s first kiss, and even though he was very gentle and kind — even nowadays — the only thing he taught her was that she was better off single.
“We’re almost there, I reckon,” said Fred, having to rely on his memory to keep marshalling. He didn’t regret having given Harry his map, but sometimes, he felt nostalgic for it.
The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. [y/n] and George followed just behind, still with their arms intertwined. George didn’t want to think what that gesture possibly meant, and he didn’t have to — they had ended up right into the cellar of Honeydukes.
“This passage remains safe, thank Merlin,” Fred thought out loud, which made [y/n] repress a laugh. She then remembered to let go of George’s arm, since she was back in the light, but her arms felt empty without his there.
They didn’t longer around Honeydukes — their plan was to go to the joke shop and get new supplies, and thenceforth go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks. The candy store was barely empty, so their exit had to be a bit theatrical so no one would suspect a thing.
Zonko’s shop called the boys’ attention as soon as the three of them stepped outside Honeydukes, and [y/n] had to hush to follow them. The store was striking, the girl had to give in. Its walls, covered with shelves, loaded not only with Dungbombs and Hiccough Sweets, but also Frog Spawn Soap, Sugar Quills, and Nose-Biting Teacups. No wonder the boys loved to shop there.
“So, Fred, what’s it that you guys are looking for to stock?” [y/n] leaning against the shelf that Fred was so meticulously observing.
The red-headed looked down at her for only a second and smiled.
“A bit of everything, I suppose,” he replied.
George appeared from behind [y/n] and the shelf, scaring her with a nudge. She, at least, managed not to scream. It wasn’t late yet, only twilight, but the stored seemed umbra, which gave the toys up on the shelves a different glow. Macabre, [y/n] determined.
“Never, ever, do that again, do you understand?” she threatened George, but the twin only giggled.
“Come with me, [y/l/n],” said George, eyeing the back of the corridor he was in. “You’re gonna like this.”
Fred tried really hard not to smile at his twin taking an initiative, while [y/n] followed.
George waited until [y/n] was right next to him and offered his arm again. There was really no official reason for it — even though it was starting to be dusk outside, the shop still had light enough for the girl not to feel scared, but he liked being of use.
[y/n] accepted his arm with biting of lips, suddenly feeling very nervous with the interaction. Could she like George? She wondered, innocently. He was a nice lad, for sure. He was also a tiny bit taller than Fred, and she did like tallboys. But he’s very annoying, she reminded herself. He’s always teasing you in a non-lovable way.
“Do you know Ronniekins has a devotion for you?”
George plumped the question, smirking in taunting.
“Ronniekins?Ron?” she asked, stunned.
[y/n] didn’t even bother with George’s smile. She cared for Ron, a lot since she confided in him most of the time, but if the lad was messing things up… she would need to take a stand, and she wouldn’t like it.
“Yep,” affirmed George. “He developed some sort of crush on you; I can’t speak anything in your concern without being scolded.”
“That’s nice of him,” she tried to smile, attempting to make the best out of the situation, but she just couldn’t. “Oh… But if he really does fancy me… I’ll have to say something, right? I don’t wanna lead him on.”
“To be honest, I think even if you actually stare him down and say: ‘Ronald Weasley, I do not fancy you and I don’t want to kiss you’, he will still hold on to hope,” George told her, pressing his arm against her harder. He wanted to comfort her, and he didn’t even fully comprehend why.
[y/n] was an enjoyable lassie and, even though he messed with her all the time, he liked to be around her. But did he like likebeing around her? Oh, Merlin… He couldn’t. His younger brother loved her, his older brother was the object of her affection. He did not want or wish to be in the middle of it. As a matter of fact, he liked to mock the situation from the outside. She’s a future sister-in-law, he told himself, but it felt wrong in his mind. She’s part of the family, he pondered again, and that phrase felt easier, which was a relief.
The girl in question watched George’s expression, as it tensed and relaxed, and she wondered if he was worried about his little brother. That’s sweet of him, she thought.
They finally stopped in front of a shelf filled with candy bars, but George remained silent and did not explain why they stopped there.
“George?” she called his attention. “What do you think I should do?”
His eyes stared down at her, thoughtfully. He truly wanted to help her, even if it meant walking her down the aisle to his twin.
“Well, you don’t fancy him, do you? I reckon it’s another brother of mine you have your eyes on,” he said, out loud this time. For some reason, he felt like he needed to know. He needed to know if she still had a thing for Fred. Or even for Ron, if the tables had turned.
[y/n] avoided George’s eyes. How could he have found out about her wee crush on Fred? She sure wasn’t being self-evident, was she?
But even so, if she were obvious, what was she supposed to answer? She most definitely was not going to confess, especially because her feelings have been shifting a lot. Fred was her best mate. Yeah, she knew they would match just fine if it were Fred to ask her out, but did she want it? Did she yearnto be Fred’s companion?
“I don’t fancy Ron, obviously,” she answered, finally, after a while pondering how to phrase her feelings. “And I don’t know what you mean about brothers of yours.”
George snorted. “Okay then.”
He decided it was for the best if he just remained quiet and did not bother her about it any longer. She didn’t want to answer, and, honestly, he didn’t wanna hear it. So he faced the shelf he had directed her towards and picked one of the candy bars.
She breathed a sigh of relief that he had dropped the previous matter, and asked: “I didn’t know Zonko’s shop sold candy.”
“Not any proper candy,” he replied. “This is a special one.”
“Really? How so?”
George gave her the candy bar, so she could analyse it, but, as he very well knew, there was nothing in its packaging that revealed its true content.
“They provoke emotions, different ones, but always strong ones,” George explained, taking back the bar from her hands. “This one, for instance, is for decisive moments. See here?” he pointed to a very small font where it could be read: “you want the courage to do what you most long to? This is for you!”
“Why would someone eat something like this?”
“Various reasons,” George shrugged before taking another candy bar from the rack. “This one is for knowledge. Suppose you have a test tomorrow — this could be your salvation.”
[y/n] took the second bar from his hands and analysed it herself. “Only if I know the test’s subjects beforehand, you mean,” she said, returning him the candy bar. “If you haven’t studied, this won’t be much help.”
“It will be somehelp,” said George.
“Right,” [y/n] snorted.
“Anyway, it’s practically not much of use nowadays. Professor Snape found a way to perceive it in your organism with a special potion,” he explained, but he didn’t place the bar back in its place. He held still the two candy bars and led [y/n] to the cashier.
“You know you’re buying the courage one, right?” she whispered in his ear before Fred could reach them in the cashier line.
George smiled.
“You are the one buying it,” he corrected her. “After all, you’ll need it to talk to Ron.”
[y/n] let out some air from her throat, completely frustrated. She knew she didn’t fancy Ron, at least, so she should talk to him. Perhaps the candy bar was going to be of some use.
“What are you two buying?” asked Fred, having absolutely no free space in his arms. He had a bit of everything — Dungbombs, Frog Spawn Soap, Nose-Biting Teacups and more that [y/n] wasn’t able to name.
“Magic Bars,” the girl answered, looking up to meet Fred’s eyes. It was only then she realized she still held George’s arm, so she instantly let it go — but not before Fred couldn’t notice.
“Oh, so you can be brave enough to break up with Ronniekins?” asked Fred, smirking.
The girl looked shocked. “Oh, come on! Everyone knew?”
The twins only laugh it out.
Knowing that Ron was going to arrive at any moment at the Three Broomsticks with the rest of the gang, [y/n] popped the candy bar and ate it all at once, only stopping for a sip of butterbeer to make it all easier to let out. George watched, surprised, but offered his own comment: “I don’t think you needed to have eaten it all.”
She sniffed. “Could have informed me that earlier, couldn’t you?”
Fred just smirked, amused with the scenario. He took the opportunity to corner his twin when going to get more butterbeers at the counter, leaving [y/n] alone on the table.
“So… now that she’s breaking up with Ron, when are you gonna tell her you fancy her?”
George’s eyes widened, staring at his twin with disbelief.
“What? You’re gonna pretend you don’t like the lass?”
“[y/n]’s a friend,” George answered, sharply.
“Right…”
They ordered the butterbeers and waited, avoiding staring at each other. Fred didn’t want to keep laughing at his twin, and George didn’t want to confess something he wasn’t entirely sure.
Could he fancy [y/n]? No, he answered mentally. She fancied Fred, and he always promised not to come between his twin’s girls. Because, if ever [y/n] decided to hit on Fred, he knew his twin wasn’t going to be able to resist. She was just like that, and she never even noticed — if she wanted a guy, she’d have him. And the day she’d claim Fred would come, and George would be left to watch the two love birds.
“Seriously, now,” started Fred, handing the butterbeers, “why don’t to come clean with her?”
George sighed. “I have nothing to clean. Do I like her? Yes. Do I think she’s pretty? Yep. But we’re better off as mates, or better saying, bickering mates,” answered him, finally.
Fred decided to say nothing more. George would eventually realize on his own that he like [y/n] and, when that day arrived, Fred could finally beam saying “told you so”.
They sat back at their places, noticing the small crowd on their table. Ron, Hermione, Angelina, Lee and (the big surprise of the night) Harry Potter had arrived, and they were talking jubilantly about the upcoming ball they had been hearing whispers about.
George sat between [y/n] and Ron purposefully, and [y/n] sighed in relief while staring at George.
“Hasn’t it had any effect yet?” asked George, referring to the candy. [y/n] just shook her head. “It will happen soon.”
She wished he was right.
The two of them got caught up on the table talk, adding their own remarks and desires for the party. [y/n] didn’t add much too aloud, though — she was afraid Ron could say something about them going together.
Suddenly, she felt a kick inside her. The candy bar! she thought, anxiously. She stared at Ron from behind George and gesture for them to go out. She needed to say it, once and for all.
George watched as the two of them left, but he didn’t make a comment.
“So much for [y/n] marrying Fred…” Lee said aloud.
“Me?” asked Fred, confused and frowning. Lee laughed and Angelina tried to ease Fred, mostly for [y/n]’s sake, then for the red haired’s.
George kept staring at the door as if wishing the conversation ran out faster if he did so. Lee nudged George.
“Is she kissing him?”
“Ew, no,” George replied. “She wanted to talk him outof his feelings,” he continued. “She even ingested one of the Magic Bars for courage.”
“Those are never a good idea,” said Hermione, meddling.
“Why?” asked Lee, genuinely curious. He often liked those candy bars.
“Well, it gives you the kicks to do what you most long for. Not necessarily a good thing if what you most long for is to kill someone, for instance,” she explained. Hermione, then, shrugged, knowing [y/n] was not about to kill Ron, but suggesting that what she most longed for might not be “end things” with Ron.
George pondered Hermione’s words. What could be the thing [y/n] most ached for, and could the magical candy bar really help?
He had no more time to think as the door from the Three Broomsticks opened once again, but only Ron came in. He had some of a tired look on his face, and that worried George. Not for his younger brother, but for [y/n].
George got up and left, leaving a confused Lee behind. Angelina and Fred exchanged looks before smirking — both sharing a secret of what had happened.
“Never again make me ingest one of those bars, are you hearing me?” [y/n] said as soon as she faced George, in on dark space between Three Broomstick and the next store next to it.
“What happened?” George asked, stupefied.
“Nothing, of course, and how could it? With Ron?” she laughed it off. “I just told him something about him being the little brother I never had and how I saw him grow up so fast. He understood the message.”
George waited, but she said nothing more. “So, what’s the matter?”
“I want to be touched, Georgie!” she exclaimed, surprising herself. She covered her mouth, a little too late, but it was the least she could. Had she really told George she wanted to be touched? Had he understood the length of her words?
George froze, giving [y/n] the time to gather her thoughts. He looked very handsome in the half-light coming from the establishment next door, and [y/n] enumerated how many freckles he had on his face. There were more than Fred’s, and George’s were more intensely gathered on his nose. The twin noted the girl’s fierce inspection and cleared his throat.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone almost gruff as he felt completely exposed in the dim light of the Hogsmeade night.
“I’m counting your freckles,” she replied truthfully. It wasn’t the candy effect — she really wanted to be honest, because that was how she was around George. [y/n] never thought before talking when she was with the younger Weasley twin, unlike when she was around Fred or even Oliver Wood.
“Why?” George questioned in a whisper. It was like he was afraid to speak.
“Because…” [y/n] didn’t have a “why”. She wanted to, so she counted. She wanted to come closer to him, so she did. Moreover, she longed for his touch, and that terrified her. “I wanna kiss you.”
Her voice was barely a whisper, but it felt very loud in both of their ears.
What? George wanted to ask, but he wasn’t able to mould a coherent phrase. Instead, he leaned closer. If she wanted to kiss him, he would let her. He had thought it before: the man she desired, she would get.
“George?” she asked, forcing him to open his eyes once again. “I won’t kiss you unless you say you want to kiss me too.”
“I thought you were desperate to be touched,” George played, smirking a little.
“Desperate? I didn’t say that” [y/n] smiled too.
“Kiss me, [y/n],” he said, the smirk disappearing.
She took one last deep breath and pressed her lips against his. It felt sweet at first, but then it was something different, something [y/n] could not find words to describe, perhaps spicy could be a great word, but it wouldn’t delineate it completely. There was more, always more, and when [y/n] opened her mouth waiting for his advance, she was impressed to feel him eager.
Their kiss deepened, it became something of its own, essentially when George’s arms took her whole body in, tugging, hugging, caressing her. She did the same with her hands, searching for his red curls, and pulling him in by the neck.
“George, touch me,” [y/n] yearned.
“I… I…” George couldn’t find the words, neither to say yes nor no.
He kept pulling her, closer and closer, but it wasn’t enough. He finally understood her, understood what she longed for because he longed for the same. To touch her, on her very core. But he couldn’t.
“We shouldn’t, [y/n],” he said, sorrowfully. “I shouldn’t.”
“Fine,” she whispered, leaning over his ear. “But I should.”
Her hands left his neck and wandered towards his trousers, finding the confirmation of his deepest desires. Oh, he hankered to touch her, too. He only lacked what the candy bar gave [y/n]: fearlessness.
He held her hand before she pressed him even tighter.
“Are you sure of what you’re doing?” he asked. “You’re probably intoxicated.”
“Intoxicated?” she stepped back. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t believe her. “Why? Because I would rather be with Fred, you reckon? Oh, yeah, you know so much about me!”
She took more steps away from him, and looked back, finding him with a disturbed expression on his face.
“If I wanted to be with Fred, I would’ve found a way to drag him here,” she said, confidently but also angry. “But it was you who came to me, and yes, I might’ve been the one to kiss you, but only because you told me to.”
“[y/n]! I… I just don’t think you wanted to… in the middle of Hogsmeade,” he shouted back, feeling the first raindrop fall over his nose. “Because don’t turn this on me! I’ll allow you to touch me anywhere you’d like, any day, even! You longed to be touched, but I’ve been longing to be touched by you!”
His words weren’t only an astonishment to her, but to him too. George didn’t know he had been thinking about her that way until she touched him — until he felt the taste of her lips.
[y/n] made a quick decision: she left. She turned her back, feeling raindrops start to fall all over her, but she didn’t bother and kept walking away, towards Honeydukes.
George watched as she went, and he was frozen, even in the rain. It was Fred who found him, all soaked.
“What happened?” Fred asked, but his twin did not answer. “I knew I should have taught you better how to hit on girls.”
George, paralysed, only moved his lips. “She left me,” he finally said. “In the rain, all alone.”
Fred breathed. “Let’s go back to Hogwarts; she’s not going to get back here.”
hey guys, im not dead haha. no harry potter atm, but enjoy this reiner fic since i got into aot again.
Summary:Reiner comes back to Marley to find you moved on, inspired by drunk wqalk home by mitski
Pairing: Reiner Braun x Male Reader
Word Count:1794
Warning: alcohol usage, general depression, a lot of trauma, most of it surrounding reiner.
The fog faded into the cool night as he stumbled home, the streets were empty sparing a few fellow drunkards. He was angry and confused as the alcohol wrecked through his system.
He was nothing more than a tool. A fool stuck in this mess he created. He wanted to scream, cry and crawl his way out of the shallow grave he was forced into. The two sides of him fighting to conquer his will, how could he live with himself when all he wanted was you.
He swayed side to side as he walked through the dimly lit streets of Marley. He never wanted to return to this place, not when you were here. How could you be so stupid?! He thought to himself as he stopped to lean against a wall, throwing up what he thought might have been all his inner demons if he didn’t know any better.
He wanted nothing more than to return to you. To kiss you and love you, hold you tight like he should’ve. What he wanted more was to leave this fucking hell with you by his side, but what a fucking fool he was. How could he expect you to pause your life for him? How could he have not predicted you would’ve thought he was dead by now? A faded memory from your past you wished to forget.
He had scanned for your face in the crowd when he came home, but you weren’t there. His family greeted him with tears and hugs, but he couldn’t stop peering over their shoulders to catch a glimpse of your face anywhere. He had asked around and discovered where you had gone to when he left, but no one would look him in the eyes when he asked what you were doing now. So as cruel fate would have it, he knocked on your door.
You answered, looking older and wiser, yet he could see you under it all. A scared kid, hugging him tight as you begged him not to go. Though now you stared at him with wide eyes and a small toddler in your arms. He couldn’t breathe as you smiled, small tears in your eyes upon hearing about his return. He couldn’t say a word as many spilled from your lips. The toddler growing restless in your arms as you cut the conversation short, suggesting to meet at a later date to properly catch-up.
He hadn’t been gone that long had he? He must’ve been imagining it when your wife came to take the toddler out of your arms for rest or when she kissed your cheek to let you know dinner was gonna be ready soon, asking who your friend was.
Though through it all you smiled, like you were happy to see him, like you couldn’t see the blackhole forming in his chest once only a small missing piece from his life. You looked awkward having to carry the short conversation when he couldn’t get a word in.
“I’m so glad you came home safe” You smiled again and his eyes were burning. He never knew you could smile this much, he couldn’t have known you would smile this much. You had to know how long he waited to see it again because you couldn’t stop treating him to your smile. “I’ll have to come see you soon, okay? A new bakery opened on that street we used to play in. It has the most delicious pies you’ll ever see! I have to go now. Are you okay, Reiner?” You said his name and all his emotions bubbled you at once and before he knew it tears were streaming down his face, blurring his vision.
“That sounds great. I’ll have to check that out.” Reiner said, tears falling onto his jacket. He then turned around on his heel, walking away.
Now here he was walking down the same road. He would never be free. He wasn’t sure of where he was going, but every turn he took drew him closer to you. He thought about how he was finally allowed to be here, where you were. His armband earned him that, but didn’t earn him you. He could see your door now in his drunken vision, right in front of him in fact. Burning his brain with the thoughts of you standing there, begging him to stay this time and then he knocked.
He regretted it, regretted every choice he had made up to this point. He considered taking off in the opposite direction, running as fast as his drunken state would allow and never seeing you again, but as his body reacted to his thought, you opened the door.
“Reiner? What are- what are you doing here this late?” You said, worried as he struggled to hold himself up. His legs had almost bucked beneath when he saw you. “I-“ Was all he could say before he was on his knees in front of you, he looked confused and angry. He looked like he was holding on by a thread.
“I don’t know.” He said as he looked up at you. Reiner looked like a scared child in that moment, his eyes glossed over with a sad emptiness you didn’t remember being there. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You immediately fussed over him, checking him. He smelled like cheap booze and cigarette smoke. He was definitely not okay.
“I’m fine” He simply said, looking at his hands. They burned with his guilt and sadness. He was tired. “Do you need help getting home? I could get my coat and tell (girl name) to make sure (toddler’s name) is okay. I don’t mind.” You quickly got into action and it made his hands burn hotter. “I’m fine” He repeated in the same tone. “You are clearly not.” You fought back, bringing him inside to sit down on a stool. “Stay here.” You commanded and he obeyed as you walked away.
His thoughts ran circles around his brain as you walked away. Why did he do this? Coming to you in the middle of the night and disturbing your family. It hadn’t even been a month since he saw you that day. “Okay. Here.” You put a coat on him, it was definitely the alcohol, but he didn’t feel how cold it was.
“I need you.” Your heart skipped a beat as you pulled his arm around your shoulder, you hoped he couldn’t hear your heartbeat. “Let’s just get you home, okay?” “Okay.”
Reinwr walked through the empty city once, the previous drunks seemed to have gone back to their homes and you two were the last people out this late. Reiner looked sick and left your side to puke up more of his demons. You helped him up again. The cool air and the fog made it the prettiest night with no one else in sight.
You arrived at his door, the lights still on from when he left. The room is simple with a small kitchen off the side and a kettle. Tea. Tea was a good idea, you helped him take the coat off and sit down at the stools surrounding the small table next the kitchen. The room looked too blank, no personal items around, no decorations, only one dead flower in an empty vase.
You made tea with Reiner’s eyes burning into the back of your head. Reiner thought you were the prettiest person alive in this moment, dimly lit by the candle light. You were here right now, when he needed you. You were here.
You finished the tea and sat next to him, drinking it in silence together. A lot of things were left unsaid to this point. Things neither of you wanted to spill sober, but Reiner wasn’t sober right now. “I cant-“ He tried to say, but the words caught in his throat, willing his tears away. You looked towards him and saw the determined look on his face.
“I can’t live without you.” Reiner said, blankly. He was going to regret a lot of the things he did here tonight. “What?” “I said I can’t live with you.” He repeated more clearly like you just didn’t hear him. “I’m quite sure you can” You laughed it off and he grew more desperate. “No… I can’t. I can’t live without you… here. You don’t understand.” He held his arms out to you as you laid him down to sober up.
He reached to your face and both your hearts stopped. You never imagined he was alive and he never imagined he’d live to see your face again. “I can’t do this with you, Reiner. I can… never do this with you.” You said, your throat catching the last few words. Reiner was broken and in his drunken thoughts, you were the only glue he needed to fix himself. “This time I thought maybe we just didn’t have to tell anyone what we do.” Reiner whispered and you were the first to break.
You gently put your lips to his, forgetting every vow you took as his lips fit perfectly with yours. It wasn’t fair how perfect they fit as he deepened the kiss. Nothing would last forever, but this moment felt like it could. “I’m sorry I never tried to stay for you.” “I’m sorry I never tried harder to make you stay.”
You both did things you regretted that night. Reiner held you and kissed you like he’d never get to taste you ever again. He kissed you deeply and beautifully as the sunlight broke through the windows. Not for a single moment did he stop to think about ever letting you like he had so long again.
As you both laid there, Reiner’s arms holding your frame, you felt him shake with sobs looking at you. You didn’t say anything, how could you even imagine what he had gone through up until now.
“You’re here… you’re really here with me.” He cried out as you pulled him closer to you, holding him. He held you in return, clinging onto you like you were the last safe place he had left in the world. “Everything is wrong.” He sobbed, his breath growing heavy and his head shook in your hands. All you could do was stroke the broken man’s hair, shushing him until he could breathe again. “I’m here.” You said against your better judgment. You wouldn’t be here for him always. You couldn’t. aot
attack on ti
You watched him carefully as he slowly fell asleep in your arms, his breath evening out as his shoulder rose and fell with every breath. You clearly got up, putting on the clothing you had and taking your belongings with you.
“Well, well, it appears you’ve caught someone’s attention, Nygma.” Two-Face chuckled. You couldn’t help but stare and Edward soaked in it. Finally, the attention he desperately craved- that he deserved. Someone could see what everyone else couldn’t. How magnificent Edward was. Everyone else might as well have been blind for if they had less primitive brains- they’d know to worship the ground he walked on. After all, he was the smartest person in Gotham.
Edward was sitting back in his seat, almost lazily as he idly swirled his drink. His eyes locked on yours. Penguin scoffed. “I don’t pay ‘em to gawk. I pay 'em to entertain!” “Oh I think Ed is very entertained.” Harvey grinned. Penguin however, was furious and rose to a stand, ready to give you a wicked lecture but Edward held out his hand in a gesture to stop him. “No, no, Oswald. It is no trouble. In fact, I think that might be the smartest employee, you’ve ever had.” Oswald grumbled and you quickly looked away from Edward. You had witnessed how the Penguin didn’t look happy and that the Riddler of all people stopped him as Penguin glared daggers into you. You were pushing your luck.
A minute later there was a tap to your shoulder. At first you thought it’d be your boss, Oswald Cobblepot but the tap was much too soft. You turned and nearly forgot how to breathe. “Hi, my name is Edward Nygma.” The man in green smiled. “Hi…I thought you’d prefer to be called 'the Riddler’.” You replied almost breathlessly. “Only to those I don’t like.” He smirked. You blushed given the implication of giving his name so freely to you of all people. “I’m (Y/N).” You said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Edward replied with a twinkle in his eye. “I couldn’t help but notice your gaze.” “Right, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I just…I couldn’t believe I was seeing you in person.” You admitted, slightly embarrassed. “I wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact, I rather enjoyed being acknowledged by such an attractive individual such as yourself.” You had wondered if Edward Nygma was ever shy, he seemed nerdy enough. So much you were certain that if someone like Catwoman flirted with him, he’d crumble with uncertainty all the while flustered. Yet that didn’t seem to be the case as he was so bold to let his attraction be known. “Oh, thank you so much.” You became shy. “That means a lot coming from someone so well known like you.” “Then you know that seeing I’m of such strong intellect that I speak fact. I don’t often give such flattering words to anyone but I think I could make an exception for you tonight.” Edward smirked at your blush. “No complaints here.” You said before covering your mouth. “Thank you for your time. I don’t intend to take you away from your friends and my boss.” Edward huffed out a laugh. “Friends…’associates’ is much more accurate. Although I do consider Oswald a friend. We have some history. It’d be foolish to call him anything else.” After some time of talking the Ridder asked you a rather direct question. “Have you had too much to drink?” He asked and you looked at him with confusion. “What?” The Riddler raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a convincing argument.” “No-I-I had a few but…I’m not drunk, I just- why do you ask?” The Riddler brushed off your shoulders. “Because I find it very difficult to believe you’d look at me the way you do if you weren’t.” His eyes met yours and he smiled slightly. “A shame, I will admit. Regardless, I’m flattered.” You couldn’t hide your surprise, he seemed almost disheartened by the thought of you changing your mind in the morning. “I’ll take what I can get of your time.” You cracked a smile and Edward smirked. “Then I will indulge you."
Edward lapped up the attention you gave him, he had no issue talking about himself whilst you had no issue listening to him. He was fascinating. Just as you thought he always would be. "I’d like to know about you.” He smiled slyly, leaning on his hand on top of the table at the booth. "Me? There’s nothing really to me.“ You admitted. "Nothing in comparison to you, Mr Nygma.” The Riddler chuckled. “I’ll be the judge of that. I want to know about the divine person before me who looks at me like I just saved the world.” You blushed. “Well…I moved here to get a new start. My parents didn’t approve of a lot of my choices so I couldn’t get away quicker. What used to be constant prying into my life became a phone call once a month…” You sent him a mischievous smirk. “…if I answer the phone that is.” The Riddler hummed, sipping on his drink. “The Penguin hired me and that’s really it. I’m too new to Gotham to have any cool stories. I told you I was boring.” You cracked a smile. “Other than that time I met the Riddler that is.” “I hear that is quite the honour around here.” Edward grinned. You nodded. “The highest honour. I think it might have made my life actually. I peaked that night. Never going to have a better experience.” Edward chuckled. “Well you might see him again if you played your cards right.” “Do you think I did?” You leaned on the table top, arms crossing. He raised the glass to his lips, pausing momentarily to smirk at you. “Maybe.” “What about you?” You asked. “You must meet some unforgettable people all the time.” “Very few actually, beyond the company I keep. The rest of Gotham are faceless nobodies. Although you might be the first to change that.” He said looking you over. You hummed. “Probably not, when you believe how boring I truly am.” “If you were, I wouldn’t be sitting here.” Edward countered. “I didn’t think you were the type to not complete a puzzle.” You retorted. “That’s because I don’t. However, only puzzles worth my time get all my attention and you, my dear, have my attention.” “Then I certainly hope I don’t disappoint you, Mr Nygma.” You said. “As do I, my dear.” He responded. “So is this your night off? It is Friday after all.” You asked. He pondered the question. “I suppose it could be considered as a social gathering. We did meet on business terms but if they’d started then I won’t be there to speak business.” He smiled. “I’ll be here with you.” You blushed. “Sorry, I feel like I’ve disrupted on many levels now.” Edward hummed. “You’re a lovely distraction though. I’d hardly call it a waste of time for me.” You smiled back at him. “As I said, I think you’ve made not just my night but my whole life just approaching me. Even if I get fired tomorrow…it’ll be worth it.” You giggled. “Fired? Absolutely not. I won’t have that. I’ve kept you in bounds of your job. Your job is to make sure customers are comfortable and entertained.” "You’re not just some guy though.“ You replied. "You’re the Riddler.” He let out a laugh of amusement. “Give me your phone.” He said. “It’s round back…” You rose to a stand. “…why do you want my phone?” He smirked. “You’ll just have to get it to find out, won’t you?” You smiled. “Be back in a sec then."
When you were gone that was when Two-Face shoved his way into the booth beside Edward. "You’ve been gone for a while. We did the meeting without you.” “You can fill me in later, Harvey.” Edward’s eyes remained upon the staff door, waiting for you to return. “It seems like you like this one.” Two-Face nudged him. “And?” Edward responded. “Excellent choice.” Two-Face said smugly. “I hope you don’t have ill intentions for that one, Edward.” Harvey cut in. Edward huffed. “Hardly. You don’t know anything of my intentions, Dent. Now go away before they come back and see you. You’ll scare them off.” Two-Face huffed out a laugh. “Too late, looks like I’m staying, Eddie. They’ve already seen me and they’re coming this way.” Edward followed Harvey’s gaze. He was right, you were coming back.
You held your phone out to him. “Here….hello, Mr Two-Face. Are you having a good night?” You asked as Edward plucked the phone from your grasp and leaned back, busying himself with it. “Yeah, doll-face. Thanks for taking Edward off our hands for the night. The night off from babysitting has been great.” He grinned. “Shut it.” Edward warned him but didn’t look up from your phone. “I’ve enjoyed every minute with him.” You blushed. “I bet you have.” Two-Face sounded smug again as Edward handed your phone back to you. “Right, that’s enough out of you.” The Riddler rose to a stand and nudged him. “Move along, I’m going to say my goodbyes and head home. Leave them be.” Edward was practically guiding Harvey away from you. Stopping to spin around the face you. “See you soon.” Edward smiled at you before continuing to push Harvey forward, his cane in the other hand. “Nygma, I swear if you don’t quit your shoving-” The rest of Two-Face’s threat was drowned out my the noise. Still, you couldn’t help but smile. You checked the time on your phone. You had another half an hour left of your shift. However you couldn’t help but wonder what he did to your phone.
It was only later when you checked it that you discovered what he had done. Your jaw hung open, gawking at the screen. There, in your contacts, was a new one. Enigma. You immediately figured he didn’t want to put his actual name but regardless. Edward Nygma, the Riddler, had put his number in your phone. You immediately went to text it, even if it was half four in the morning. You typed out your message before sending it. 'Thanks for the great night. You got me through my shift haha.’ To your surprise as you climbed in bed, your phone buzzed. You turned off the light before you looked to see a response from Enigma. 'The pleasure is all mine. I’d like another night, perhaps not when you’re working.’ You inhaled, feeling the blush in your cheeks. 'You can have all the nights you like.’ You replied. 'Then you’ll hear from me very soon, my dear. Goodnight.’
