#(especially in walled-off Insomnia) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

samkerrworshipper · 1 year ago

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exhausted | barca femeni/alexia putellas x reader

reader has insomnia… but doesn’t tell her teammates alexia begins to figure it out though

was gonna make yall wait till tomorrow butttt i rlly can’t fucked lol

Sleep is something that has never come easy to you.

No matter how hard you try, no matter how much melatonin or herbal teas or meditation you tried, none of it worked.

You, quite simply, could not sleep.

It was fine when you were just a student, when you could dip out of your morning classes or sneak in a nap here and there between classes, when you didn’t have to make it through full days of work.

It was fine when you were playing for London City, when nobody cared about what you were doing, only if you could stop other players from getting past.

It had all changed though when the Barca offer had come in though.

It was known to every single footballer in the women's league that Barca had major injury problems, specifically in their backline, injuries that wouldn’t be resolved until long after the season was over.

You’d never thought though that some absences in Barcelona’s star squad would crate an opportunity for you, but for whatever reason, the Barca selectors had seen something in you, and even though it was mid season, had been desperate to sign you, it was a big move to go from England to Spain, but one you were more than happy to make for the sake of your career.

You’d never thought that the move from home would be so much more detrimental to your sleep schedule, but slowly you’d found yourself becoming more exhausted as you struggled to keep up with your new life.

There were a lot of things that were different about Spain, or more specifically the Barcelona Women’s team. When you were playing in London, training every couple of days and playing once a week, you could afford to miss some hours of sleep during the night, especially considering that nobody in London was concerned about making school a priority over there. You could take some naps during the day, laze around as much as you wanted and go to school whenever you could be bothered.

Barca was different, and not in a good way.

It was good for your football, internationally and just in general. Before Barca, you’d been more of a bench player then a starter for the England under 17s, but your game had lifted and you’d been a consistent starter in every tournament and friendly since.

You were exhausted, more than you’d ever been in your entire life, and you were sure it was starting to show.

It was hard enough being 16, in a foreign country, getting hardly any hours of sleep, training at least three hours a day as well as gym sessions and playing twice a week. Trying to be a full time student as well, it was completely unrealistic and it was starting to show.

“Nena, do you want to slow down on the energy drinks? Someone so itty bitty and young like you shouldn’t be consuming any caffeine, let alone two red bulls before noon, we’re lucky you aren’t pinging off the walls yet.”

Mapi’s hands are on your cheeks, pinching and squeezing them as if you are a baby. Instead of paying her any kind of attention you keep your eyes fixed on your laptop screen and lips pressed to the can of red bull that you’ve been tirelessly sipping at for the past couple of minutes.

Integrating into the team had been hard, but you’d actually become far closer with the crew of injured girls, mapi specifically, as well as her girlfriend Ingrid. Frido had also been one of the first people to welcome you, accompanied by two familiar English faces, Keira and Lucy.

Mapi particularly, had taken you under her wing, or had sort of adopted you in an older sister type fashion. It was sort of annoying, the older Spaniard was constantly talking, to the point where you’d learn to pretty much drown out everything that left her lips.

“If you keep touching my face then it won’t just be your knee that’ll be injured, your hands will be broken as well.”

Mapi frowns at you, her pinching fingers moving to brush loose hair from your face and rub at your temples, trying to rub away the frown lines deeply ingrained on your forehead.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning did we, nena? You know you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that, it’s not good for your little baby face.”

You shake your head in an attempt to get Mapi’s hands off of your face, it partially works, but not fully.

“María I am serious, you’ve got three seconds before I tear this can in half and use it to cut off your fingers, don’t you have rehab to do or something more entertaining than bothering me?”

Mapi’s hands fly up in surrender, something you are infinitely grateful for.

“Fine, you want to be grumpy then you can be grumpy by yourself, don’t come looking for me later when you’re bored of school and looking for some fun.”

You don’t bat an eyelid as Mapi retreats from your table.

You take another sip of your drink, praying that it’ll somehow make it easier for you to read the words on your laptop screen, even though it does absolutely nothing.

You’ve read the same page, over and over again and yet it’s done absolutely nothing to make you understand what it is you are supposed to be learning. It’s a mess of consonants and verbs, jumbled up words that just can’t seem to resonate in your brain.

Whilst Mapi has left, unbeknownst to you, you aren’t completely alone in the recovery room.

Alexia has been sitting on one of the massage tables, doing her exercises for the last hour, watching as you’ve gradually been getting far more frustrated with your work.

Alexia’s relationship with you so far has been… rocky.

The captain had made it clear from day one that whilst the club needed you, that your studies were going to be a priority alongside football. If you had known that you’d be going from doing as much school as you liked, to hours of online school everyday, you probably would have reconsidered your move to Spain, but you were here now and struggling more than you cared to admit.

Alexia knew something was up, beyond your clear hatred for school, she just wasn’t sure what yet but she was determined to find out why.

“Everything alright pequena?”

You practically jump at the sound of Alexia’s voice, hand clutching at your heart as you suddenly become aware of a presence in the room that you were unaware existed.

“Perfectly fine.”

You do well to recover from the shock, your eyes darting straight back to your screen almost as quickly as they had left it.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for the last twenty minutes.”

Alexia notices that your hands are shaking slightly, most likely due to the insane amounts of taurine that your body is processing.

“There’s a lot of writing on one page.”

You take another sip, finishing off the can and sliding it across the table.

“Mapi’s right, it’s not good for pequena’s like you to be drinking stuff like that, it’s bad for your brain cells, and don’t get me started on what it does to your body.”

Alexia moves to take a seat beside you at the table, her concern for you growing even more when she took a look at your face and realised how exhausted you looked.

“I don’t need the lecture, I’m poisoning my body, I’m aware of it, now can I please have slime peace so I can finish this off before training starts?”

Alexia isn’t anywhere near satisfied with your answer, she wants you to argue with her, not admit your wrongdoing like it’s nothing.

“Yes, you are, you aren’t an adult, you don’t need energy drinks, you will do perfectly fine without them.”

Your eyes leave the screen to look at Alexia for a second, a little exhale huffing out between your lips.

“Okay, whatever.”

Alexia can’t get past just how tired you look, so tired that you’re seemingly agreeing with her just to avoid conflict.

“Pequena, how about you take a break for a couple of minutes, go get some fresh air, I’m sure you can finish this up later.”

Alexia’s never let you finish school early, you don’t understand why she’s deciding to today.

“I need to get it done.”

Your body is so tense, Alexia’s scared that you’re going to pull a muscle just from how tight your body looks.

“I’m sure it can wait till later, you’ve been sitting here for two hours now, you need a break.”

Your hands are still shaking, and you’re as hunched over as possible without being asleep on top of your laptop.

“Alexia, I’m fine, I’ve just got to finish this and then I’ll be done.”

Alexia’s hand reaches up to meet your shaking one, somehow hoping that it’ll stop the frantic tremors.

“You’re taking a break, just go and spend some time in the team room, or go for a walk, just take fifteen minutes and I’ll next you when you need to be back. Go, now, I’m not asking.”

You slam your laptop closed with more aggression then Alexia’s seen from you all morning, your body dragging itself out of the room without any regards for your captain whatsoever.

Alexia begins to get worried when twenty minutes later, after multiple text messages, you are yet to return.

She knows you’re stressed, that school isn’t what you want to be focusing all of your energy on. But Alexia knows from personal experience how easy it is for somebody of your age with your kind of talent to disregard things like education, something that she believes is so crucial to any adult's life. You need options, Alexia is trying to give you them, even if you seem to hate them with every single fibre in your body.

Alexia decides to go looking for you once twenty five minutes have passed and you are nowhere in sight and have ignored every single one of her messages.

It doesn’t take her long to find you, although she does almost miss you.

Alexia peeks her head into the locker room, simply to ask if anyone has seen you, the room is silent and empty though.

She almost leaves, but just as she’s about to close the door, she spots your body, tucked up inside of your locker, your head tucked into your knees.

You look frightfully unrestful, you don’t look like most people look when they’re sleeping, most people look peaceful, you look bothered, like your body is fighting against the sleep that you so clearly need.

Alexia walks over to you, now more than ever she’s certain you’re sick, that you’ve caught some kind of cold that’s causing this exhaustion and the short tempered mood you’ve been in.

She brings the back of her palm up to your forehead, an action that has your eyes snapping opening immediately.

Alexia’s sort of surprised when she realises you’ve got no fever whatsoever, although she’s well aware that not all sicknesses result in fever, something about it is putting her off.

“Hola pequenita.”

It takes you a few seconds to realise where you are and what’s happening, but as soon as you do you are shaking Alexia’s hand from your face and pushing yourself out of your cube.

“Sorry, time completely slipped past me, I’ll head back now.”

Alexia’s hand grabs your forehand before you have the opportunity to slip past her, tugging you backwards until you’re standing directly in front of your captain, forced to look at her.

“Are you sick?”

Alexia isn’t sure what’s wrong, but it’s clear something is up and sickness is the clearest option. She knows that you are no stranger to energy drinks, she spends most of her time heckling at you to try and put down whatever drink you’ve got in your hands. She’s never seen you down two in such a short amount of time though and sickness would be a good explanation.

“No, I’m fine.”

Alexia can’t find any deceit in your words or mannerisms, it appears that you are being completely honest with her, something that makes Alexia even more confused. None of the tell-tale signs are there, you are telling the truth.

“I know you aren’t a stranger to a midday nap, but it’s unlike you to be so tired.”

Alexia’s arm moves from your forearm up to your face, gently tracing the deep purple bags that are sitting below your eyes. Her thumb is soft, it feels like she’s mending all of the fatigue that lies there, but as soon as her thumb moves it all comes back.

“I’m fine Capí, just stayed up a little bit later last night.”

Alexia can tell that’s a lie, a cover up from whatever it is that you’re hiding from her.

“Well see to it that you get into bed earlier tonight. The team is out on the pitch, I told Jona that you’d join them once finished up with your work that you’d head out but I think you need some fresh air. Better get moving.”

Alexia’s voice is ridged and your body reacts to it, reaching into your locker with more speed then she’s seen you work with all day, you grab your cleats and before Alexia has the chance to speak anymore you are marching out of the rooms and out towards the pitch.

It’s perplexing to Alexia, she hates being lied to, especially when it’s clear something is wrong. She waits in the locker room for a few minutes, trying to piece together the mystery yet she comes up with nothing.

Eventually she makes the decision to go out and watch the training, pitchside, maybe you’ll have perked up now that you’re out doing something you enjoy.

The first thing Alexia notices is how frantically you are playing, it’s unlike you to be sloppy and yet as she watches you it’s all she can observe.

You are sloppy, messy and uncalculated, something that you are normally the opposite of.

You are a technical player, something that has helped you settle into the Barcelona squad with ease, you adjusted to the Spanish way of playing without much fuss.

What Alexia is watching though, you look like a completely different player. You’re practically passing the ball directly to Salma, goal after goal being put through your legs and around your body. It’s embarrassing, and she’s certain other people are picking up on your abnormal behaviour, multiple people, specifically Ingrid coming to check on you and make sure everything is fine.

You shake all of them off, even though it’s clear that something is up and whatever that something is, it’s big and it’s affecting your game and mood majorly.

Alexia’s not surprised when Jona drags you from the field, already yelling at you and sending orders your way, what she is surprised by is the way that you don’t even flinch as he throws never ending criticism your way.

You just stare at him, neither nodding or trying to reply to him, Alexia’s not even sure if you’re hearing him, if you’re present enough to be listening to the words that are leaving his mouth. For a second she considers the possibility that you’re violently hungover or acting under the influence of some kind of substance, it would explain the drowsiness and weird behaviour.

The idea makes Alexia instantly filled with anger, you are 16 and she will take you to the grave if you’ve been touching any kinds of substances. She’s mad enough as it is over the energy drinks, and she’s going to express that when the two of you are in private later on, but the chance that you’ve consumed something illegal for someone of your age, it sends shivers down her spine.

Jona has you back out on the field before you can even begin to respond to his critiques, back into defence where you are brutally humbled time and time again by the likes of Aitana, Salma and Caro.

Alexia cringes every single time, she knows that you are struggling, what she’s completely unprepared for is for you to fully collapse on the field.

Caro volleys another ball over your head and for a second Alexia doesn’t even notice you crumpled up on the ground of the pitch, she’s too busy watching the sight of Caro’s ball perfectly managing to slot in behind Cata. It’s a truly beautiful goal, and truly there isn’t much you could have done about it.

She only notices you when Cata doesn’t turn around to grab the ball, instead, she rushes forwards, leaving the ball long forgotten beside the bottom right post. She’s rushing forwards, down to her knees, directly beside your crumpled up body.

Alexia jumps up from her spot immediately, running faster than she should considering the current state of her knee, it doesn’t matter to her though, seeing your tiny little body all clumped up against the grass terrifies her.

Cata’s smart, and apparently fast acting because before Alexia is sitting down next to you, Cata’s already got her shirt off, drenched it with her drink bottle and has it folded up over your forehead. The cold water seems to bring you back a little bit, your head jerking upwards in reaction to the sudden change of temperature across your skin.

Just as Alexia’s crouching down next to you, the medics are pushing everyone out of the way, kneeling down next to you and doing the same as Cata had done, placing wet towels across your skin. They’re treating it like you’ve got heat stroke and whilst Alexia is aware it’s a warmer day, she knows that whatever is wrong with you, it most definitely isn’t heat stroke.

One of the medics squirts some water onto your face, something that Alexia doesn’t like the look of, but it seems to bring you back awake, your eyes bursting open and blinking furiously as you take in your surroundings.

Alexia can see you panicking immediately, your eyes flashing to the multiple faces that are crowding your vision.

“Everyone take a step back, give her some space.”

The medics and your teammates take a step back, leaving Alexia to skoot herself closer to you. Her hand comes to rest on your face, gently brushing the water residue off.

“Hola nena, stay calm for me, you had a little fall, we’re going to get you inside now, do you think you can get up for me?”

You nod at Alexia, you can’t remember what happened but you don’t want to be on the floor any longer than you have to be.

Alexia helps you up and off the pitch, the medics leading the two of you inside.

Alexia immediately gets you situated on a table, the medics immediately getting their hands all over you.

“Test her heart for me please, and her caffeine and sugar levels. I’ll be right back nena, I’m just going to grab something from my locker, text me if you need anything.”

Alexia is inexplicably angry and she knows that if she spends any more time in a room with you she’s going to yell, or say something that she’s going to regret. If it wasn’t for all the doctors, she probably wouldn’t care but she doesn’t need to air out private situations in front of people who have no business in your private life.

So she stomps her way to the locker room, set on trying to detangle the mess of emotions that has developed deep in her gut ever since this morning.

It’s been longer than this morning, Alexia’s noticed oddities in your behaviour, ever since you’d arrived. The energy drinks, the constant eye bags, power naps whenever you could fit them in. You live by yourself, something that Alexia deeply disapproves of and after today she doesn’t think it should continue on like this. You’d requested your own apartment for two reasons, privacy and because you didn’t want to disturb the private life of your teammates.

Alexia wanted to punch a wall, or throw something. That was all that was running across her mind as she paced back and forth in the locker rooms.

All Alexia could think about was your body, crumpled up on the pitch and she had no idea why and no idea how to help you.

You were sitting in the medical room, by yourself, beside the many doctors and physios who were poking and attaching you to different things.

You were exhausted, you were finding it hard to keep your eyes open. You’d felt the same way all day, hitting the pitch had been too much, too hard, too much energy for your exhausted body.

You wished that you’d feel the same every night when you tried to go to sleep every night, but alas, it felt like as soon as you got into bed, or as soon as you tried to close your eyes sleep just avoided you.

Alexia was probably two laps of the locker room away from throwing her phone at a wall when Mapi walked in, weirded out by the sight of her best friend grinding her feet into the floor as she walked back and forth in the locker rooms.

“Ale?”

Alexia’s pacing doesn’t stop, but she does take a second to look up at María and for some reason the concernedly smiley face of her best friend seems to help the anger bubbling up inside her simmer down slightly.

“Alexia, what’s wrong?”

Alexia’s hands are fidgeting wildly in front of her, her fingers clicking and toying with each other.

“Somethings wrong with Nena, she’s exhausted and frantic and she looks like she hasn’t slept and she’s downing all those energy drinks and maybe they’re getting to her heart? Maybe that’s why she collapsed or maybe she’s sick but somethings wrong and I don’t know what and she collapsed right in front of my eyes.”

Normally, out of the two, Mapi is the one who confides in Alexia the most. Alexia isn’t an openly emotional person and when she is it’s with Olga, because for some reason that woman can get everything and anything out of her. Here though, it’s clear Alexia needs someone to de stress with and Mapi is happy to take up that role.

“It’s just her Alexia, she’s always tired and drinking energy drinks, it’s how the kids these days do it.”

Mapi’s words are supposed to soothe Alexia, honestly they do the complete opposite.

“But she shouldn’t, she’s an athlete, she shouldn’t need them. Mapi, I am telling you, something is seriously wrong, I can feel it. I know she’s always tired, but she looks like she hasn’s slept in weeks and I don’t know why.”

Mapi, for the sake of trying to calm Alexia down, decides that instead of trying to invalidate her worries, it’s best to just try and reason with Ale.

“Ale, how about we go see her, if somethings wrong I’m sure she’d tell us.”

Alexia nods at Mapi, taking the extended arm that her friend gives her and allowing the Zaragozan to lead her back to the physio room she’d previously been in.

When she returns, she’s relieved to see that you look a lot better than how you had on the pitch. There are still grass stains across your face, but you’re less pale than you were before and you’re sipping on a gatorade which somehow makes Alexia feel less guilty about the whole situation.

“Hola pequena.”

Your eyes manage to meet Alexia’s, something that kind of shocks her, considering just how weighed down your eyes seem to be by the deep purple bags underneath your eyes.

“Bon dia.”

Alexia would not call this a good morning, she couldn’t even call it an okay one.

“What’s wrong?”

Alexia’s focus is on the physios, not you, she’s saving you for later.

“Luckily, not a lot. I checked her heart and I couldn’t find any abnormalities, it’s clear that she’s tired, she’s told me she woke up a little bit earlier than normal this morning which paired with the warmer weather and some minor dehydration is probably the main cause. She’ll take today off, rest up, but I can’t find anything that would indicate any serious underlying problems so there isn’t any reason why I would say she couldn’t be back on the pitch tomorrow.”

It’s a positive sign, but not what Alexia wants to hear, she wants something to be wrong, so that she can get to the bottom of whatever is happening to you.

“Good, thank you, do you think you could give us the room for a couple of minutes, por favor?”

The physio smiles at Alexia, giving her a nod before leaving the room discreetly.

As soon as Alexia is certain he is no longer within hearing distance, she pivots on her heel, so she’s facing you directly.

“What are you hiding?”

It’s so ominous, even Mapi thinks it’s a little bit far-fetched, as a 16 year old, Mapi was probably hiding more than she was sharing, it’s not really a fair question.

“What am I hiding?”

It sounds like you're even struggling to get words out, your voice is just so tired, like it’s taking up so much energy for you to speak a few simple words.

“Somethings wrong, you’ve been drinking all these energy drinks, which are not only far too caffeinated but also extremely bad for you and you look like you haven’t slept properly in weeks.”

You want to tell Alexia that she’s right, you aren’t sleeping properly, you haven’t been your whole life, but she wouldn’t be the first person who tried to help you and has failed miserably in the process, it’s quite simple, sleep and you just simply do not work.

“Anyone from England would tell you that I just drink energy drinks, it’s not that deep Alexia.”

Mapi is teetering on the edge of having to hold Alexia back from causing you bodily harm.

“Deep? Collapsing on a pitch is not deep? It seems pretty deep to me amor, you can hardly talk, you could hardly read this morning, it’s clear something is wrong and I want to know what.”

You don’t know how to tell Alexia that something isn’t wrong, this is just you, or the new version of you in Spain. Your insomnia had always affected you, moving to Spain had seemed to make it worse but you’d always lived like this, ever since you could remember, sleep was just something that you could never have consistently.

“Nothings wrong, I am fine, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

Alexia’s jaw sets and for a second Mapi does truly worry for you.

“I want you to not lie to my face.”

You visibly flinch at those words, you don’t want nor mean to lie to Alexia, but you figure you are saving yourself from a merry go round of painful conversations.

“I’m not lying.”

Alexia knows you are, she’s not stupid.

“Right, well you’ve got the day off, you’ll be coming home with me and staying with Olga and I until you look less like you are on the brink of a coma. María will go get your things.”

Mapi nods quickly at Alexia, walking out of the room as quickly as she can manage, leaving just you and Alexia.

Even though Alexia is mad, she begrudgingly helps you up from the bed, draping your arm over her shoulder to give you somebody to lean on as she walks the two of you out to her car. She’s just gotten you seated in the passenger seat and closed your door when Mapi pops up with your things. Before Alexia can hop into the car and get going, Mapi stops her.

“Be easy on her, si? She’s going through something and I know you want to know, I know you want to help her but whatever is wrong, she’s not talking about it for a reason. Maybe she doesn’t need you questioning her, just take a look, a proper look at her and see if you can get a better idea. For me?”

Alexia knows that Mapi won’t let go of her shirt without some kind of acknowledgement that she’s going to agree to her.

“Okay, I’ll go easy on her.”

It’s a half truth, Mapi seems to accept it though, letting go of Alexia’s shirt so that the Catalan can take her seat in her car and begin to drive the two of you home.

The car ride home is eerily silent, Alexia keeps her eyes focused on the road, her knuckles whitening from the grip she has on the steering wheel and her jaw so set that you begin to worry that her teeth must hurt from the constant clenching.

When the two of you pull up to Alexia’s house you’re feeling a lot better, your head is clearer and you don’t feel as broken as you had earlier.

You clamber out of the car, walking your way slowly to Alexia’s front door. Alexia bothers around with the keys, twisting them in the hole before opening up the door for the two of you.

“Ale? You’re home early.”

Olga’s voice filters in from the kitchen, the two of you making your way through until you spot her.

“Nena, is that you? I didn’t know we were going to have company, if I had I would have cleaned up a little bit for you.”

You shake your head at Olga, giving her a small smile that you’ve reserved just for Alexia’s partner.

“Go sit down on the couch, get your feet up.”

Alexia’s voice is stern, it immediately makes Olga frown at her.

Alexia allows her girlfriend to drag her from the kitchen and into their pantry.

“What’s with the mood?”

Olga’s happy space is her and Ale’s house, it’s supposed to be the one place that the both of them can get away from football and stress.

“Nena is hiding something, she collapsed at training and we don’t really know why but she does and she won’t tell us.”

Olga nods her head, the somehow younger but wiser woman putting on her thinking hat and trying to rationalise what Alexia is telling her.

“Don’t you think it would be smarter to try and be nice to her? I know that she’s fucked up, but it’s clear she just needs some love right now, maybe you should be giving it to her.”

Alexia thinks that Olga doesn’t understand the whole situation, she doesn’t see you everyday, doesn’t see how ragged you are and how deep this issue stems, but she also can’t not listen to her, the woman somehow tends to always be right and she can’t see why that would change now.

“Okay, okay.”

Olga smiles at her, getting up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Alexia’s jaw before pushing her out of the pantry and back into the kitchen.

Alexia is unsurprised to find you dead asleep on her couch, your head lulled against one of her couch pillows. She’s glad, and decides to pocket the inevitable conversation she is going to have to have with you, instead opting to help her girlfriend make lunch.

You sleep for a total of 40 minutes, something that Alexia is less glad about. As soon as she notices you’re awake she’s forcing a bottle of water into your hands and two aspirins. You take them before she shoves them down your throat, taking multiple gulps of the water so Alexia didn’t have another reason to be mad with you.

To be fair, she looked a lot less mad than she had earlier, you wouldn’t even really describe how she looked as mad, more concerned.

Alexia sat down in front of you on the couch, taking a deep breath before she started speaking.

“I’m not going to force you to tell me anything, I understand that you are going through a lot, I just need you to know that I’m here for you, anything you need nena I am here to support you and try and help you however I think best.”

Alexia’s words cut deep for you, it’s a struggle for you not to break out in tears, as much as you really want to.

“I know Ale.”

She nods at you, holding back her own tears, there’s some kind of understanding between the two of you, that you aren’t going to cry or speak, just acknowledge each other for now.

“Olga’s made up the spare room for you, you’ll stay here until you’re in a better place. You’re welcome here and you’ll be no bother for the next couple of weeks.”

You nod your head, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from arguing back to her.

The rest of the afternoon is fairly similar, you are fed by Olga and then spend the majority of the rest of the day lounging on the couch, occasionally falling asleep, but as Alexia notices, never for longer than 40 minutes. It’s like your body refuses to properly rest.

When dinner comes around you look just as exhausted as you had this morning, you just look a little bit less dead.

After dinner, you head off to bed, alexia’s glad, she’s hoping that you’ll have a nice long proper sleep and that all of this will be solved.

She’s wrong.

Instead of hopping into bed, you pull out your laptop, knowing that if you stand a chance at getting even two hours of sleep it’s not happening any time soon.

You work at your school work, completing the things you hadn’t finished earlier. When 12 o’clock rolls around, you force yourself away from your laptop and underneath the covers of alexia’s extremely comfortable spare bed.

You stare at the roof, every now and again you’ll twitch and for some reason it’ll hurt your brain. You play your favourite song over and over again in your head, praying that it’ll somehow lull you to sleep, it neves does. You stare at the ceiling and try to focus on the sound of the fan. You stare at the ceiling and wonder if the swirl pattern in it is mobing. You think about your favourite film and how the characters used to provide you so much peace. When you remember how much they meant to you, you let a few stray tears fall.

You stare at the ceiling.

Every once and a while, you’ll roll over and press your face into the pillows and pull the covers over your head and hope that if you hide somehow you’ll fall asleep.

Eventually, you’ll fall asleep.

Sometimes it takes hours, all for you to wake up half an hour later feeling as unsatisfied as ever.

It’s how you live, it’s the same routine every night, it’s your normal.

When 4am rolls around and you’ve managed to get a measly twenty minutes or so of sleep, you climb out of the sheets, annoyed that your glass of water is empty. Your eyes are dry and itchy with the feeling of needing to cry, you push that feeling deep into your gut, ignoring the desperate need to ignore your feelings in favour of keeping a strong face.

You try to be as quiet as possible, filling up your glass and taking a seat on Alexia’s couch, looking out of the window of her lounge room at the Barcelona skyline that lights up along her back fence.

“Nena is that you?”

You nearly jump out of your skin.

Alexia is standing in the kitchen, leaning up against the island, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and staring at you inquisitively.

“What are you doing awake?”

The words trigger something in you, it’s probably the half dazed state you’re in, the complete exhaustion and annoyance you’re experiencing at your inability to sleep, but all of a sudden, tears are dripping your face and you don’t know why or how.

Alexia freezes for a second, she’d expected something obviously, but crying was not one of those things.

She’s never seen you cry, she’s never had to deal with a teenager who is breaking down right in front of her eyes. She doesn’t know what to do, or how to help you, all she knows is that you are crying a lot and she is just standing and watching.

The problem solver in Alexia tells her that she has to do something, so she paces her way over to the couch, sitting down beside you and tentatively wrapping an arm around your shoulder. She doesn’t know whether or not it’s the right way to go, but it seems to pay off when you immediately relax into her, your head craning into the pocket of her neck and shoulder. Fresh, warm tears drip down onto Alexia’s skin.

Alexia is tense, her back as straight as a board. She doesn’t normally have to deal with this kind of thing, she doesn’t have to try and sympathise with feelings. She’s not an emotional person herself, she cries once a year normally and that’s on the anniversary of her fathers death.

“Nena, it’s okay, I’m here.”

Alexia’s words are calculated, strategic, like she’s reading them off of google or something. Truly, she doesn’t intend for them to come off that way, but it’s kind of just how they do.

Alexia waits for the tears to stop coming, she figures it has to happen, you can’t just cry forever.

The two of you sit like that, crisscrossed on the couch until you manage to compose yourself, until you’ve cried out all the annoyance and grievances over your current predicament.

In the past, your insomnia would stop you from sleeping for days, but eventually the exhaustion would catch up with you and you would get a good night or a few of sleep, but it had been weeks now of you living in Barcelona and sleep had been avoiding you the whole time.

“Nena, what’s wrong?”

Right now, it feels like everything is wrong, it feels like your whole world is upside and you want it to be normal, you want to just be able to close your eyes and get some fucking sleep.

“I can’t sleep.”

Alexia’s brow furrows.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have had so many energy drinks, no?”

It’s the kind of reply you should have expected.

“No Alexia, I can’t sleep, I have insomnia.”

Alexia struggles with the translation in her head, in-som-ni-a?

“Sorry, what?”

You take a deep shaky breath, pulling your head away from Alexia’s chest so that you can rub the tears from your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Insomnia, I can’t sleep, medically. I have a condition that stops me from being able to sleep regularly.”

Alexia’s head all of a sudden starts working, she’s a little bit behind, it’s 4am after all and she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.

“You can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, Alexia wants to tell you that you’re being silly, but when she sees the pure heart break and exhaustion in your eyes she knows that you can’t be lying. You look so young, tear tracks all over your face and body caved in on itself.

“I can’t sleep.”

It makes more sense to alexia now, all the energy drinks, the exhaustion, the power naps.

“Have you talked to the team doctors about it, I’m sure they could give you medication or something that could make it better, this can’t go on forever, nena.”

You shake your head at Alexia, your exhaustion turning to fear.

“No and you have to promise you won’t either. I’ve been through it, the sleep tests, all of it. I won’t take drugs, you can't make me and I refuse to.”

It’s like you go from being a mellowed out version of yourself to an attack dog.

“Nena, you need help, you can’t keep playing when you can hardly keep yourself standing.”

You shake your head, so fast that Alexia worries you might pass out from the sudden and frequent movements.

“I’m not taking drugs, you can’t make me, I won’t do it.”

Alexia doesn’t know where this sudden defensiveness has come from, but she knows two things. She needs to make sure that you understand that she can be there for whatever you are going through whilst also trying to figure out what is your random refusal to not take medication.

“Wouldn’t it help some?”

It’s hard to explain your complete hatred for any kinds of drugs. You’d grown up in a household where your mom might as well have been a druggie with how little she was invested in your life and where your dad was a legitimate druggie.

You struggled to take paracetamol, let alone any kind of prescribed drug.

You were scared shitless that somehow, you would turn out like your father and that was the last thing you could ever want.

You didn’t come from a loving home, you didn’t come from a place where you got the newest cleats every year and the best training. You came from a home where grocery money was spent on cocaine and any football money was spent on heroin. You’d been lucky enough that you were good enough for England teams to notice you, for academies to notice you. You were always good enough that you didn’t have to fork out the extra money and if you did it was your own money.

That’s why you’d been so eager to get out of England, to come to Spain. It saved you from the lifestyle that you had been so desperate to get away from.

“I’m not going to take medication Ale.”

For a long time, you’d blamed the insomnia on the constant partying that happened at your house as a kid. Your dad was a revolving door house kind of person, there were always people inside of your house, women, druggies, sex workers, partiers. It was never ending, and for a logn while you’d just thought you couldn’t sleep because of the constant noise inside of your house. When you went away for your first camp at 11, you realised that just simply wasn’t it, you had a serious problem. Maybe it was a byproduct of always being in a house full of noise, or maybe it was just your fucked up ness, you just knew that somewhere along the way, everything in your brain started working backwards.

“Nena, you don’t have to take medication, but can you tell me why?”

You figure that you’ve already told Alexia too much, why stop now?

“My dad has drug problems, always has, probably always will. My mom was never really home as a kid, when she was it wasn’t pretty. I don’t want to turn out like them. That’s why I didn’t go home over the break”

Alexia’s heart drops. She’s been through her own problems with her family, her fathers death and so on. But she’s always had something and that is a safe place to go if she ever needs it. Her parents loved her, they did everything to protect her as a child, Alexia grew up in a space where she could be whoever she wanted and her parents would support her. You, to some extent, clearly didn’t and it explained a lot to her. It explained why you were so hesitant to accept help from anyone, and why you were such a lone wolf, you had to be for survival.

Alexia suddenly wraps her arms around you, all of a sudden feeling an overwhelming sense that she has to protect you, that you need her to keep you safe.

You’re crying again, it hurts less this time, it comes more from a place of exhaustion than annoyance and anger.

“I just want to rest Ale, I just want some peace.”

Alexia’s grip tightens, she’s compressing your bones in the best way possible.

“It’s okay nena, I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay.”

Alexia just holds you, until you exhaust yourself so much from the crying that you fall asleep.

She doesn’t want to wake you, not after everything you’ve just confessed to her, so she lays herself down on the couch, keeping you pulled tight to her chest as she drapes a blanket over the two of you and rests down against the pillows, deciding that she might as well get a few hours in for herself.

You wake up to the sun in your eyes and the smell of bacon and pancakes.

You feel better than you have in weeks, blinking the sleep away from your eyes and slowly sitting up as you adjust to your surroundings.

Alexia and Olga are in the kitchen, talking hushedly as Alexia cooks over the stove and Olga rocks with her from behind. It feels and looks intimate and you are so tempted to sneak out of the front door to leave them to their peace and avoid all the obvious issues that are going to have to be unpacked with your captain.

You’re seriously considering, but your plotting is stopped when Olga turns around to grab something and she spots you on the couch, conscious and awake.

“Bon Dia, nena.”

Alexia pivots as well, sending a smile towards you.

“Good morning, what time is it?”

Olga detaches herself from Alexia, moving towards the fridge.

“It’s just past six.”

2 and a half hours of sleep, that’s not bad at all, it’s better than you’ve had in weeks.

“Breakfast is almost done, if you want to take a seat at the table.”

You nod at Alexia, standing up from your spot on the couch and walking over to the dining table, taking a seat at the table and trying to tame your bed head whilst Alexia plates up the food.

The plate she hands you is full of food, bacon, toast, pancakes, sausages, fruit. It reminds you of home in a weird way, it’s not a truly traditional Spanish breakfast, more English and it seems like Ale’s done it for a reason.

She waits until you’ve started to tuck into your food before she starts speaking.

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with Jona and the medical team this morning, for you.”

Your boyd goes from relaxed and at peace to tense, Alexia knows it’s breaking your trust in a way, but she also knows that she’s now obligated to protect you.

“I told you I don't want doctors or drugs.”

Alexia takes a deep breath, looking over at Olga and being reminded that sometimes she has to do hard things.

“I know nena, and i’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, I don’t think I could if I tried, but this can’t keep going. I did some research, there are some really good drugs for people that struggle like you, that aren’t addictive and can help lots. I’m not a doctor and neither are you. We don’t know about these things, it’s not our job, but there are people who do know about this stuff and they can try to help you, really help you. You can’t live like this, it’s not sustainable in any way, we need to find some way to fix this. Whether it’s therapy or medication or resting, you need something and you can’t provide it yourself.”

Alexia words are a punch to the gut, but they also make sense, she knows what she’s talking about.

“You promise that I won’t have to do anything I don’t want to?”

Alexia nods her head, she’s shocked that you’re already sort of agreeing with her.

“I promise nena, I just want to help you somehow, however that may be.”

You take a big bite of your food, and a gulp of the orange juice that Olga has set down next to you.

“I slept better than I have in months last night, because of you, I don’t know how or why but something you did made me sleep and if you think that I need help, then I can’t really argue with that. It needs to be on my own terms though.”

Alexia nods, this is so hard for you, accepting help, accepting that you have a problem that needs fixing.

“Of course nena.”

You nod, drawing all of your thoughts together.

“I think I need help Ale, I want help.”

#woso #woso community #marry me rn #barca femeni #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas is mom #alexia putellas x reader #barca femeni x reader #wfc barcelona #barcelona women #barcelona femeni #barca #woso smut #lucy bronze

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icycoldninja · 10 months ago

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Angsty Sephiroth headcannons

-Severe insomniac; needs to take 3 sleeping pills a night just to nod off, and even then, he's a light sleeper, so the slightest sounds can wake him.

-Doesn't drink often, but when he does, he gets very drunk and emotional.

-Cries a lot in private, especially when reminiscing his past or flipping through his old photo album with all his pictures of his dead friends.

-He still celebrates Genesis and Angeal's birthdays, all by himself. He gets a cake and lights candles, and sings happy birthday to the wall. Then he eats the cake all alone and drinks beer until he passes out.

-Has frequent, intense night terrors that keep him up when his insomnia doesn't. More often than not, the two forces work together to torment him till morning.

-Uses a lot of makeup to hide his dark, puffy eyebags, and even then they're still sort of visible if you look closely.

-Feels tired and unmotivated 80% of the day; it takes almost all of his mental strength just to get out of bed.

-Braids his hair before bed because it gives him something to focus on so he doesn't have to listen to all his own disturbing thoughts.

-Insecure about himself, and everything about himself, from his personality to his looks.

-Severe abandonment issues--he fears that you will leave him because of all his mental baggage, but is too afraid to talk to you about it.

-Sometimes holds you too tight because he fears you'll dissappear and leave him all alone.

-If you ever get a nightmare, he will squeeze you to the point of almost breaking your ribs. He does this because he remembers when he was young and scared, that was all he ever wanted.

-Is very depressed, tries not to show it, but you can see it anyway. This normally happens after a long day or when he has too much to drink. He needs a hug and maybe a kiss or two. Give it to him.

#Ffvii #Ff7 #Sephiroth #Sephiroth x reader #Angst #angst headcanons #headcannons #Sad and short #icycoldninja writes #Final fantasy 7 #Ffvii sephiroth #Ff7 sephiroth #Final fantasy 7 sephiroth #Sephi needs comfort #Give it to him ffs

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olenvasynyt · 6 months ago

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Random Lucien headcanons, let’s go!

1. Lucien’s favorite alcoholic drink is whiskey. He likes old-fashioned, Summer-style whiskey lemonade, whiskey sours, Autumn-style hot toddy with cinnamon and honey, in his coffee, etc

2. He has insomnia and struggles to fall asleep. Probably gets 4-5 hours a sleep on a good day.

3. Is a big morning person: will call 8 am “sleeping in”. (Day Court heir rises with the sun!)

4. He is very fashionable (of course, we all know this) but he loves wearing mismatched socks. He has the biggest assortment of socks ever, including the fancy dress socks, hiking socks, fuzzy sleeping socks, and socks so old he sews patches in them

5. Knows how to sew and is pretty good at it. LoA taught him embroidery and he’ll embroider random leaves on his clothes when he’s bored.

6. Collects trinkets and always has a random assortment of things in his pocket: a cool stone he found; a key he stole from his brother and refuses to give it back after 200 years; a gem that popped off his knife handle; a rabbit’s foot, etc. He’s a lil crow for sure

7. Loves sleeping in hammocks. One of his go-tos when he goes camping by himself

8. Can juggle. Yes, I know, but picture him shirtless with his hair draping over his bare chest, his muscled arms moving elegantly as he juggles 5 flaming balls of fire 7 feet above his head…

9. Could not sit still as a kid. He was always running around and fiddling with stuff, kicking his feet when he sits, etc

10. Has his ears pierced (tbh I headcanon that most fae have their ears pierced. Fancy, excessive is a High Fae fashion)

11. Loves interior design. Constantly argues with Vassa about how to decorate the manor they occupy in the human lands; he HATES her taste

11.5. Modern headcanon: Lucien loves thrifting and always looks for vintage furniture, wall decor, etc at second-hand stops and estate sales.

12. Never liked hunting as a kid (family hunts were always torture for him) but he grew to appreciate it as a survival skill, as well as a way to enjoy and respect nature.

13. Was raised to worship the Mother, but disliked how his father’s court used it to oppress people. Lady of Autumn is religious and taught him the kind and true side of religion. The Mother and the Cauldron became a way for him to connect with his mother, especially after he ran from Autumn and couldn’t see her.

14. His love language is gifts (obviously) but also physical touch. He loves giving massages and can warm up his hands with fire magic to give heated massages for cold feet, hands, etc. He is clingy and loves to hold hands and cuddle.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #lucien headcanons #acotar #these are all happy ones but I have a SHIT TON of sad ones 😀#dana pinterest / headcanons

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siblingskissing · 6 months ago

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BNHA Couple Kissing Aesthetic

As always- this is a post of some of MY favorite BNHA Ships (aka the first ones i thought of) so if you don't see your fave/ don't like these ships- feel free to request!

EraserMic

These two kiss slow and passionate- being pro heroes, plus teachers (and in Yamada's case- a DJ), you don't have much energy or down time with your partner, so they make the most of it by giving as much attention and energy to each other as possible. Sometimes these kisses lead to more, but more often one or both of them fall asleep kissing- waking up with each other's morning breath. They both find it gross yet never seem to care by time they meet again that night. They're a gross old man couple <3

TodoDeku

(I think I did well finding a gif that looks exactly like them) These two are very touch starved- so when they kiss they both put their all into it. Shouto especially. He loves to hold Izuku's face and practically absorbs him every time they kiss. Doesn't matter if they're at home or in public- he is going to make sure Izuku feels everything he feels whenever they touch. Izuku just wishes they didn't have so many headlines with photos of them practically undressing on battlegrounds

BakuDeku

Like TodoDeku- both Katsuki and Izuku are prone to heavy and heat filled kisses. And with these two's history? Who could blame them? Katsuki likes showing off that he had Izuku- that Izuku belongs by his side- neck and neck with him- and Izuku would be lying if he said he didn't adore it. So much missed time between them also fuels this passion- both so desperate to have as much of each other as they can because they both know their jobs are dangerous. They don't want to regret not having enough

ShinDeku

Sort of like EraserMic- these two are very low energy when it comes to kisses. That's not to say they aren't passionate- but with Hitoshi's low energy levels from insomnia and Izuku's caring nature- they both have found ways to show affection without causing the other to fret over nonexistent relationship problems. During the day it's no uncommon to see Izuku plant kisses on Hitoshi's cheeks- or for Hitoshi to stop him and kiss the closest piece of skin he can (the most common is Izuku's knuckles or his shoulders). But when they're alone its usually slow and sensual kisses.

KiriMina

These two are the Paparazzi's favorite pairing- It's not rare to find photoshoots of these two being affectionate- whether they're in a relationship or not. Before they ever got together they were touchy- Eijirou always holding onto Ashido, touching her leg, her hands, once they had a photo go around of him holding one of her horns as she was interviewed for her latest takedown. Kisses were not uncommon either. Cheek kisses, kisses on the lips, foreheads, hands, the leg if it's close- these two were so confused when people assumed they were dating despite how affectionate they were in school. However when they began dating it only got worse. Now if Eijirou or Ashido even think there's a camera they'll be making out.

KiriBaku

What do you get when you mix and unstoppable force with an immovable wall? You get some of the meanest kissers you've ever witnessed. These two are not afraid to get concerningly into their kisses- I'm talking teeth, blood, spit and sweat. Katsuki isn't afraid to cut his lips on Eijirou's still unbreakable lips and Eijirou isn't afraid to taste blood. They get called the Hannigram couple because of how often they accidentally lick each other's blood and they only greet it with laughter.

TogaChako

Did you know there are two arteries that run across your forehead? Himiko does- and so does Uraraka now as they start dating. I know we all adore the vampire symbolism that comes with neck kisses- and trust me, they do too, but necks aren't the greatest spots for blood flow- foreheads however- foreheads are great spots to feel for arteries and veins. Himiko loves kisses over the Supraorbital Artery since it falls right by the eyebrow- a romantic spot already to kiss- but because of her blood based quirk, she can actually feel the pulse of her heart easily from the artery. She will kiss there whenever she is anxious- or two remind herself that Uraraka is alive and healthy. She also likes feeling her pulse quicken whenever Uraraka gets embarrassed.

DabiHawks

These two are used to quick and short flings with one another- its apart of their jobs. They both know if either side found out about them that it'd be taken from them- either by a decaying hand or by corporate measures. They know their relationship is dangerous- not only for the other but themselves too, so they keep their kisses to the confinement of their midnight meetings. Always in hidden shadows- alleyways and trees that Hawks flies them to. They kiss with everything- often with Hawks knocking his teeth on one of Dabi's staples or his piercings if the kisses travel. Dabi is often the reason why Hawks carries Chapstick- because when you're kissing for hours at a time, it gets dry fast.

TodoShinDeku

These three are kiss fanatics. Mixing Shouto's need for affection, Izuku's tendency to care for everybody at once, and Hitoshi's love for witnessing his partners- you'll often find them tucked away like these. Shouto and Izuku usually lock lips, while Hitoshi is usually late to join, but just as happy to kiss at the skin available to him. That isn't to say he never gets to steal lips for himself- but he's often just happy to watch the two of them, touching their hands and shoulders to show his appreciation for the view. That often earns him a hand in his hair, or fingers on his biceps as the two open their eyes to watch him in return. They make it a show- just for him and they all adore it

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smolvenger · 11 months ago

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In A World of Boys, He's a Gentleman (Professor! Tom Hiddleston x Reader blurb)

Summary: Collapsing into tears after a hellish week, your professor boyfriend confesses he loves you.

Warnings: cursing, some work problems (I may have used some of my irl experiences in here, oops) Reader liking Romantasy books, but other than that, some hurt/comfort and lots of fluff!

A/N: I decided to leave it ambiguous if Reader is a student or not, so that is personally up to you. From @holdmytesseract's request for the birthday blurbs! Thanks for your patience!

Word Count: >2K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

If the past week was purgatory, then today was utter hell.

Everything in your life was driving you so busy, you felt both stasis and panic at once. You got so distracted that you would zone out on your phone closing and reopening the same apps for hours. Then at work, people were driving you up a wall. Because you were a good employee who had to get things done in the order and way they trained you or else…less got done. The impossibility of productivity crept on you. Minutes became hours. You had to argue with someone in a conversation that should have been four minutes but lasted eight because she would not shut up, kept repeating the same things over and over, would rarely let you speak and when you did, never replied or added onto your responses. On top of that, your body decided that the buttcrack dawn of morning when it was still dark was a good time to be awake. And impossible to drift back to sleep even when you took cold medicine. Which then made you exhausted at work.

Thank god for your professor boyfriend.

He was your light in the midst of all this. You had dated for some time, and even the sight of him putting on glasses in a nice suit as he headed off ofr work still made you tingly inside. He would leave you little gifts at your place- flower bouquets, cupcakes, and the like. You were at a point where you didn’t have to have romantic dates all the time. You were now just in his place. Just hanging out. Simple as that.

You could be quiet and not interact every second. As cats parallel played you could just be in comfortable silence together. Especially when it came reading- for you had something of a silent book club. You both turned off your phones and would sit devouring book after book.

He was a Literature professor, so it was in his nature. It seemed though sometimes he was never off the clock! He even challenged you- it was one thing that drew you to daring him. He was smart enough- he respected you as an intelligent being in your own right but was able to have questions and discussions. It was the academia in him. It made you grow into wanting to be a better person for him…and he for you.

Though today, your stress, anxiety, and semi insomnia was creeping up on you. You sat on the brown chair and he on his sofa. There was the same book in your hands. He was already rubbing a finger over his lips, pressing his glasses close. Enchanted by the spell words made. It was a well-reviewed piece of literature that won awards and was featured on the official lists of esteemed journals. He recommended this title to you and you were both reading it.

As you sat with your own copy that he leant you, you cracked open the stiff spine from it’s newness and began to read…

You were spacing out on the first chapter. It was dense, poetic, and beautiful….but you had no idea what the heck was going on.

After a few more pages, it was starting to get sad.

What was it with these books? And it was not cheery- Was high literature just sad things happening like people having affairs on their wives or committing abuse or doing drugs or going to war or just being awful with no repercussions?

With a sigh, you reached into your bag and pulled out a different book- an escapist, spicy romantasy that all the girls on social media were losing their minds over. You replaced the high literature book, setting it down quietly, and opened it. Tom was so engrossed in the book he didn’t notice. You didn’t want him to notice.

You found this time you were understanding the words in front of you. And you found yourself drawn. Was it the best piece of literature to be studied in a professors class in the future? Hell no. But you were here for a good time, not a long time. And not to study human nature deeply, but to be in a different world, where you had a different name, a different look, and different problems, but far more magical and exciting than everything crashing down in your dull, grey reality. One where your clothes were beautiful with corsets and fine fabric instead of just jeans. One where you would have a sword with a name then a smartphone that sucked all of your free time. One where you could be a princess, a queen, an assassin, a fae lady, a vampire, a pirate, a goddess, a duchess… anything other than plain old you in a plain old life at a plain old job.

Tom looked up. He then eyed over your cover and back at you.

You looked up at him and grimaced. Then you shoved the book back into your bag.

“Please! Don’t judge me!” you cried.

“Why would I judge you?” he asked.

You gestured over to the book in his hands.

“I’m reading this silly trash book and you have all of your fine literature!” you cried.

He set his own copy down, but his blue eyes softened.

“My dear…Is something up?” he asked.

He knew you well enough he could tell the signs.

“Yes, my day was hell! It was this and this and this and…I try to handle it but..I’m overwhelmed so I can’t…I really can’t…I’m not even smart enough to read this book, because I try and try but I just can’t understand this stuff and I can’t get into it, like you…I’m an idiot…”

You burst into tears, and he came over, hugging and kissing your head in little pecks.

“No…darling, no…” he murmured.

You leaned into his arms. You found yourself vneting and complaining the suffering long inside you.

“I know…I’m a mess…” you sobbed out. “And there was a lady at work who’s a bitch, and my job is so hard, and I can’t sleep at night…it’s just…I wish I could be smarter, nicer, better for you Tom, but…”

“How do you take tea?” he asked.

Looking up, you wiped your tears with your sleeve and answered him.

He made it for you the way you liked. It was the prettiest mug- white with bluebell flowers painted on it. And returned with it. You sipped at it, it was perfect in it’s flavor and so warm, you felt it melt inside you. You placed both hands around it- science said it was like receiving a hug. Feeling the warmth inside and outside as you looked up at him.

He scooted himself to be close, a gentle smile on his face and one of his large, beautiful hands rubbing your forearm in comfort.

“I know I’m a mess.” you said.

“I like you as a mess.”

You began to blink at him.

“No, I…but I’m…I’m trying, but I just…I know I complain and I read trashy books and I call people bitches and all that, you can say it, Tom. It’s the truth,” you replied.

“Set your drink down,” he requested.

You complied.

He cupped your face. A gasp aired itself in your throat.

“My dear, you are perfect as you are. A mess, broken, crying…and I want nothing else than to be with you.” he confessed.

You nearly dropped your jaw.

“That’s…a…you’re saying that…”

“Well…I…yes, I never thought I’d run into someone like you, who’d change everything. Why should I care if you feel upset sometimes like every human being or what you read to make you happy or that things aren’t always wonderful…I…I love you….there, I said it.”

Love. The little word that changed everything. And it was the first time he said it. It was…unspoken. Something you both felt for the long months you dated, but never confirmed. And here it was, materialized and as present as the furniture and mugs and books, for it was just as real.

“I love you too, Tom.”

You embraced him tight, and he embraced back. He then pressed his forehead to yours, squeezing hands.

He then let go, looking down at your mug.

“Here…your tea will get cold…” he said, offering the drink back to you.

“And…my book….” you murmured.

“Oh, I have no problems with you reading it with me! If it’s that good, I’ll make you another cup of tea and get us some biscuits as well! Then you must tell me all about it!” He gave a little laugh. “Who knows, I may even try it myself someday!”

Smiling with him, you gave him a kiss on his cheek. Then, you settled into cuddling him, sipping your tea and enjoying both of your books in a moment of pure bliss.

#carrie writes #professor! tom hiddleston #prof! tom x reader #prof! tom hiddleson x reader #tom hiddleston #fanfiction #fluff #fanfiction fluff #professor fanfiction #prof! tom #prof! tom hiddles #professor! tom hiddleston x you #professor! tom hiddleston imagine #professor! tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x reader #prof! tom my beloved

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year ago

Note

Maybe The Narrator, Tyler and Male Reader as like a lil throuple or something? it can be anything idm🙏

Jack “The Narrator” x Tyler Durden x male reader

Relationship headcanons I guess?

I love this gif,,,, whys he wearing his pants like that? who does he want to grab his hips like that, men???

Tyler is a real person in this universe, cuz it’s easier to write.

How tf did you bag not one mentally ill delusional guy, but two? Honestly, hats off to you. Cuz either you have to be just as unstable as them, or be weirdly too stable to even out their crazy.

So, depending on which, Tyler might not even pull off project mayhem if you are there to reel him in like a rabid Pomeranian wearing one of those full body harnesses.

Jack on the other hand just has so much insomnia it makes him kinda crazy, cuz not sleeping for a long time will drive you insane. Get this guy some sleeping meds, a noise machine, a weighted blanket and some of those melatonin gummies.

If you first start dating them after they start fight club, maybe you even met them there cuz one of your coworkers invited you, they’d still be kinda delulu and out for blood this time around.

Jack seems like he falls fastest, but Tyler falls hardest. You either deck both of them into the ground because its your first night at fight club, or they deck you and think you look so handsome with a bloody nose.

They’d keep circling you at fight club every week, in the beginning Tyler only does it cuz Jack likes you, and maybe Tyler is a little jealous you are taking his friends attention. At some point you’d be invited to their place.

Damn bitch, yall live like this? You try to be polite about it, but its kinda clear they live in a shithole. Screw Tyler’s whole, not owning anything and rejecting modern needs, you need a functioning shower and cable tv.

If Tyler bitches too much about your preferences, you just only invite Jack over, which has Tyler reeling too. So, whilst you are on the couch with an arm around Jack, Tyler can sit on his weirdly soggy mattress and pout.

I think we can all agree that Tyler would be jealous and possessive very easily, think a dog that seems chill, maybe a little hyper, but then snarling and snapping at anyone who comes near you or Jack. You are his, and his alone, so everyone else can stay away.

Jack is jealous and possessive too, but he’s less obvious about it, to others at least. You can tell from the way he glares or clenches his jaw, or how he bites a bit too hard when he makes hickeys on either you or Tyler.

Again, you are the most mentally stable out of all three of you, so you don’t get jealous that easily, compared to them. But that also means when you do get jealous, it has both Tyler and Jack climbing the walls, because its so hot to them.

Especially if you had to fight someone because they kept coming onto either of them, seeing you with a sneer and a bloody fist immediately has both these dudes feeling all types of hot under the collar.

Tyler is definitely a sloppy kisser. He kisses like he fights, overpowering and controlling, bites at your lips a bit too hard and grips the back of your neck and only let’s go when he’s gotten his fill.

For Jack it depends on how he’s feeling, if he’s feeling alright, he’s got the more normal kisses, maybe even just pecks. But if he’s wound up, jealous, or sleep deprived its more like how Tyler kisses.

But kissing them is also your best distraction method if either of them are getting a little too out there. Kissing or like, scruffing them or wrestling them a bit. Just keep in mind the last two most likely lead to something more.

Tyler is a blanket hog, whilst also somehow filling the bed as much as possible. Stretches out all his limbs, or keeps scooting closer to you and jack until you two are pressed up against the wall, whilst Tyler has the rest of it.

Jack is sticky when he sleeps, that meaning he’s hanging onto you. Got both arms and both legs wrapped around you, head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat cuz it helps him sleep. Sleeping between these two is hell in the summer.

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greyskyflowers · 1 year ago

Text

Ichigo has horrible nightmares, because I refuse to believe that he doesn't, and insomnia.

Most of the time he just gets up for the rest of the night, goes to train or on runs to try to burn off the anxious energy.

If they're bad enough, or he's at the point where if he doesn't sleep then he going to pass out, he develops a habit of goes finding certain people.

The nightmares leave him a little frazzled, mind messy from lack of sleep and fear. They leave him a little more vulnerable, a little less self conscious of getting comfort because he may shake out of his skin if he doesn't settle down. Sometimes he does things without realizing it, fight or flight kicking in along side unsettled hollow instincts, and he's off to find somewhere he feels safe and can sleep.

In the human world, he'll sneak in to find Kisuke. Right, sneak, like anyone in that building doesn't know he's there.

Sometimes Kisuke's in his labs so Ichigo just sits down outside the door, just enough out of the way to not trip anyone, back to the wall and arms crossed over them to rest his head on.

It soothes the vulnerable feeling, the sharp edge of terror in his chest. He trusts Kisuke to sense a threat and respond to it. He also likes the feeling of his reiatsu, cool like river stones and soothing like summer rain.

If Kisuke is busy or out, then he'll find a spot where he feels close enough to Tessai or Yoruichi to grasp at them for comfort.

They're all great about it.

Yoruichi will come and curl up next to him, her reiatsu brushing against his skin like fur, soft and warm. She purrs until the panic doesn't itch under his skin so badly. He's woken up to blankets pulled over him and sometimes a pillow between him and the wall.

The true problems arise whenever he stays in soul society.

No one says anything but he knows they can all tell when he has a nightmare, his reiatsu reacting to his fear and discomfort. Between the nightmares and the fear of waking everyone up, he's too anxious to sleep.

It's the 4th night with no sleep and he's restless, eyes burning and head reeling. It's familiarity that has him walking mindlessly until he finds Shinji's office. He slips in and ignores the sharp gaze immediately on him. This isn't new, he did this a few times while training with them.

He sits down in the far corner, back to the wall and facing the door. He draws his legs and rests his head on them. He already feels better, sleep creeping up on him fast.

All the visored have a eerie quality to their reiatsu but Ichigo likes it, especially like this. The sun warmed and soft sandy feeling of Shinji's reiatsu covering him is enough for him to sleep.

Shinji might be the only one beside Kisuke that Ichigo breaks his distance rule for. It's easier for everyone if they keep acknowledgement to a minimum when Ichigo seeks them out in the night. They've had years, centuries some of them, to make their peace with what they've seen and done. Ichigo has not. It's a topic they all avoid, pretending that not talking about it makes it go away.

He's a little touch starved, he'll admit it. He doesn't get much contact that isn't fighting, or that isn't meant to hurt or teach.

The clawing urge to be safe eats at him, especially at night. It won't let him rest, keeps him awake with anxious thoughts or wakes him up with fear.

Very, very few things would willing take on Kisuke Urahara or Shinji Hirako, even if the prize was Ichigo.

So getting a little more personal is common with them. He sits a little closer, holds on a little tighter, visits them a little more. The pressure of their reiatsu feels like a weighted blanket.

He also find others he trusts for those nights.

He's goes to Kensei and ignores Shuhei's questioning and semi concerned look.

Kensei complains about having too many people in his office, Mashiro sticks her tongue out at him and Shuhei looks genuinely ruffled at the comment, but he doesn't turn Ichigo away.

He won't, wouldn't.

Kensei's reiatsu reminds him of swaying bamboo leaves and splotches of sunlight through tree branches, Mashiro's is tall grass and wildflowers, and Shuhei's is heavy but comforting.

Ichigo wakes up to Mashiro snoring on one shoulder, the side between him and the door, Shuhei is asleep on the other.

He also goes to Rose, who doesn't seem surprised to see him either.

Kira usually sits in the office too, a familiar restlessness and unease to him that Ichigo recognized in himself. They sit next to each other and it's nice to have the warmth of someone next to him.

He relaxes and can almost hear Rose's reiatsu humming, Kira's a gentle rain storm at his side.

There's a simmering fury that burns hot in the Visored everytime Ichigo comes to them, exhausted and anxious, and joins lieutenants already there for the same reasons.

Aizen left a mark on the younger ones, dark circles under their eyes and nightmares a constant battle.

Ichigo does well with them though. He sits quietly with Kira, sometimes they talk in low voice until they end up slumped against each other. He usually ends up between Mashiro and Shuhei, all of them falling asleep in a mess of limbs. He's unsure with Momo, a lot of people are, but she's growing to like him and it won't be long before they start talking. It doesn't hurt that Tōshirō thinks highly of Ichigo.

Tōshirō just waves him to the corner, in the middle of arguing with Rangiku and eventually kicking her out for the night. He's quiet as he goes back to work and the room is almost chilly, but it feels good against Ichigo's flushed skin. Tōshirō pauses a few times like he wants to say something, the words almost spilling out of his mouth, but he doesn't. He resumes working and Ichigo falls asleep to a snowstorm. Rangiku wakes him up in the morning with a smile and the smell of smoke and embers.

The 11th is... unexpected. It's the worst nightmare he's had in a while and stumbling out in a panic had brought him here. Maybe because nothing was stupid enough to come looking for a fight with Kenpachi and his men. That longing for safe eventually made the decision for him and he sat on the far edges of the division, hidden by the shadows. He knows that anyone awake would know he was there and sure enough, Yumichika comes around the corner and raises an eyebrow at him while Ikkaku looks over his shoulder. Ichigo just curls in a little tighter and watches them, waiting for them to kick him out or laugh. They don't do either. Yumichika just sighs and says something to Ikkaku and they sit down further down the walkway. They don't look at him, looking away or even closing their eyes. The tension slowly leaves, and it's hard to stay awake as he relaxes. The reiatsu that rolls over him smells like iron and he can vaguely tell where Kenpachi is, his reiatsu twisting and cracking like lightning.

He wakes up with just enough time to sneak out, hovering in front of Yumichika and Ikkaku hesitantly, only taking off when Kenpachi start howling about a fight.

They're laughing as he runs off.

Byakuya almost doesn't allow it, but Ichigo must look as bad as he feels because he only gets observed for a minute before he's ignored again. It's the only sign he gets that he won't get kicked out and it makes him hesitant at the door before slinking into the far corner and getting comfortable. He falls asleep to flowers and the cool warmth of spring cautiously grazing his skin. He wakes up to the smell of cold steel and the feel of scale and furs. Renji and Rukia sit beside him, waiting for him to wake up.

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

Do I go back and forth between Ichigo being everyone's secret crush or their collectively adopted, traumatized human? Yes, and everything/anything in between.

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starhwazz · 6 days ago

Text

·:*¨༺ ♱ A case of insomnia ♱ ༻¨*:·

「 ✦ Seongjoong ✦ 」

「Wordcount : 6,454」 ── 「NSFW」

「Hongjoong was holding the outline of his dick through the sweats. His team ring being lit up by the blue light and some of his dick outline also being lit. He looked huge. And it took everything in seonghwa not to run into that bathroom and suck him dry, Choking on hongjoongs dick tearing up as the shorter mans fucks up into his mouth」

「 Content: 」

── Top Hongjoong, bottom Seonghwa

── Masturbation, lewd pics, dry humping, hand jobs, mutual masturbation

Like every other night, Seonghwa was having trouble falling asleep, and although he had promised himself that tiktok would help him feel tired. he ended up staying up watching every video that ran on his feed. But he was intrigued by this specific video.

He was on his private fake stan account that was dedicated to hongjoong only because he and hongjoong were close, Like really close. And he thought it would be nice to dedicate a account to his best friend. Just because.

Now he came across a tiktok that had a video of a woman in the back giggling and screaming as she hit the wall in slowmo, Now he thought it was hilarious. But the captions over the video and the comments piqued his interest.

“Atiny when that one hongjoong edit plays.” He had no idea what the edit was nor why atiny was freaking out over it, He scrolled through every comment and every reply and it all consisted of atinys absolutely losing it. “The clips they used! I cant take it!!” “IM SCREAMING” was the constant comments he seen on this video and god did his curiosity peak.

And thats when he finally decided to click on the audio and to his luck the edit was the top video on the sound, He then clicked on the video and to his surprise the edit was beautifully made.

The song was captivating, as was the way each clip varied to the beat. What captivated him were the timing and flashes, the absolute talent they used while making this, rather than the fact that the video featured Hongjoong making some extremely alluring looks and risky body movements and totally not throwing his head back groaning into the camera.

He then looped the video over and over taking deeper looks at every clip, the way the editor knew what they were doing putting certain clips into this with this audio, The intro was what has him hooked using such attractive photos of his leader. I mean he did always know hongjoong was hot but this edit was doing something.

“Hwa, Please change the video i need to sleep and all i hear is the same song on repeat, I dont want to hear the moaning.” Seonghwa paused the video and turned his head to stare at the back of the oreo haired boy.

Wooyoung had his back turned to hwa, The shorter man huffed and shuffled as he tried to fall asleep. And seonghwa laid there on his own bed across from him. He bit his lip as he stared back at his phone and quickly looked up crawling towards his nightstand and grabbing his airpods, Placing them in his ears and replaying the edit.

He didn’t know what got over him but that edit was addictive he didn’t know how many times he watched it but he knew every clip by heart and when it would change, when it would end and how it would start. Why was hongjoong so.. hot?

Wait. What the fuck ? It wasn’t that. No. He quickly closed tiktok and placing his phone next to him as he laid there staring at the ceiling, He’s just tired. Yeah. Maybe he needs to sleep off this confusing edit. Yeah. Thats it.

Seonghwa quietly placed his phone on the nightstand, plugging it in and putting away his airpods being oh so careful as to not make a sound to make the brat that was sleeping across from him. Seonghwa finally laid back down closing his eyes.

But he groaned as he kept tossing and turning he couldn’t sleep but he needs too especially for the interview, He knew hongjoong would be on his ass for going to bed at 4AM. And he felt his heart skip at the thought of hongjoong, ‘ Huh? Cut that out hwa .’ He thought to himself as he turned to his side pulling the blanket with him and wrapping himself cozily. He finally felt himself drifting into sleep.

The next day the boys were all sitting near one another getting their positions ready, Seonghwa was seated next to hongjoong, What luck. He felt his heart race more than usual. And the man took quiet but deep breaths to relax, That was until hongjoong turned and smiled at him. He knew seonghwa was panicking about something so he threw him that cute smile.

And fuuck did it not help instead it made his heart race slightly and he felt his head spin with confusion, Is he still tired? He kept questioning himself not knowing he completely zoned out staring into a wall.

“Hwa, Are you okay?” Mingi spoke up leaning forward to stare at a absent seonghwa, Just then hwa snapped out of it and saw all his members staring at him.

“Im fine! Just a bit nervous.” Seonghwa brushed it off as he smiled and nodded to everyone calming their worries. Wooyoung then locked eyes with seonghwa and the younger male let out a quiet laugh.

“Makes sense why you were up so late, Hyung was nervous for the interview.” Wooyoung laughed and squinted his eyes towards seonghwa in a playful manner.

“You seriously stayed up?” Yunho said with a slight laugh in his tone.

“Yeah every night he’s up struggling to sleep but last night was the worst.” Wooyoung added whining the last word and exaggeratingly throwing his head back with a annoyed expression.

The guys laughed at wooyoung’s stupid exaggeration, San suddenly patted wooyoung smiling at the man as everyone around made annoyed sounds at the lovers.

“Get a room ew!” Hongjoong replied looking away from the two faking a gag at their skinship. “Shut up!” Wooyoung shouted towards the brown haired man.

Hongjoong and wooyoung childishly stuck their tongues out towards another and annoying made noises mocking one another.

Seonghwa stared hard at hongjoong, Suddenly focusing in every detail in his face, How his eyes get smaller when he smiles and laughs, How his cheeks fill while he smiles. And he quickly snapped out of it as he saw hongjoong stop making faces at wooyoung.

“What even kept you up hyung?” San asked softly and seonghwa thought for a second, He couldn’t let his members know he was watching an edit, Especially one of their members. Specifically the captain.

He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck innocently, “Ah i was just scrolling reading what atiny had to say about our comeback announcement, and watching some videos.” And thats when wooyoung blurted out scaring hwa.

“HE WAS WATCHING A VIDEO ON REPEAT FOR ABOUT 20 FUCKING MINUTES!” “I legit couldn’t sleeppp.. and the song had some crazyy shit in it!” Wooyoung blurted and groaned as he remembered the same song on repeat, Everyone turned to look at hwa and immediately the man was bombarded with questions.

“Who was it? WHAT song was playing? What the hell were you watching? Who’s edit was it!” Was the same questions being asked and he swore he wanted to just dig a deep hole, choke wooyoung and throw him in it.

And just when hongjoong was about to speak the interviewers spoke up asking if they were ready to start and everyone immediately calmed down and nodded, Except hwa he was completely embarrassed why did wooyoung have to always open his annoying mouth.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

The interview ended after 50 minutes of shooting and hwa swore it was the longest shoot they’ve ever done, Everytime he looked at hongjoong while he talked he felt a blush creep into his cheeks painting them with a cute color and if it wasn’t for the blush already there he would’ve been dead. Every moment he talked he felt hongjoong staring at him. But it makes sense, Hes the leader, He does that to everyone so it doesn’t mean anything.

Seonghwa quickly got up and thanked the interviewers for bringing them in the channel and interviewing the members and group themselves, He made a beeline towards the drinks their staff dropped off for them at the lounge side of the huge room. Seonghwa grabbed his strawberry berry mix smoothie and sat down on the leather black couch which was surprisingly comfortable, He took his phone out and scrolled through insta reading atiny’s comments in his newest post.

That was until he was interrupted by a certain main sitting next to him, “Hwa hows the drink?” Hongjoong had asked as he grabbed his own and sipping his pineapple flavored drink sitting back and also pulling out his phone.

“Its good haven’t been able to have this in a while, Hows yours joongie.” Seonghwa said surprisingly calm, He didn’t feel insanely nervous for once being this close to hongjoong plus they’re just relaxing and drinking together that’s nothing strange.

“Hmm same, I can always ask staff to give you that whenever you wanted hwa.” Hongjoong said as he looked at hwa throwing him a sweet smile which made his heart jump, Only cause it was so sweet that he was really going to make the staff always give hwa his favorite smoothie.

“Its okay joongie you dont need too.” Seonghwaa responded also sweet and throwing him light hearted smile.

“You know, I also struggle falling asleep. You can always just text me when you cant sleep hwa.” Joong had blurted as he kept scrolling and he suddenly felt more at ease, now he has someone to text when he cant sleep.

“Then i guess get ready for me texting you tonight captain.” Seonghwa slightly shoved hongjoongs shoulder to teasingly joke with him because they always did that, Its their form of love. And just as expected hongjoong shoved him back and laughed “I will hwa.”

Just after that conversation the two went silent scrolling and drinking the fruity juices they had while sitting super close together, shoulders touching yet none of them moved instead they kept the distance close. There was nothing that felt awkward or off about this instead peaceful and calming it felt like all the nerves seonghwa had from this morning and all the tiredness and confusion last night had completely slipped away from his mind once he was in his comfort bubble that had hongjoong as the center of his bubble.

He was never fully at peace unless he was in his room building his legos or near hongjoong, Hongjoong was his safe space and seonghwa was his. They never felt awkward being close whether sitting or standing together they just felt peace. Unless one of the members tease the two.

The day passes by as the group leaves the building and goes over to their entertainment building and practice for their comeback, And this whole dance practice had seonghwa frustrated.

Not because hongjoong is in a tank top but because seonghwa keeps slightly messing up whether mixing his part up or slipping, It was annoying how he immediately froze the second he saw hongjoong in a tank top with a black cap covering his face and a jacket tied around his waist as he wore black baggy jeans with white sneakers, He looked so good in it. But that wasn’t why he was distracted. He was just exhausted.

Finally seonghwa got the part no trips no slips nothing, The members cheered as everyone got their parts down and just as fast as the excitement started it died out with staff telling them to do it a few more times until everyone is perfect.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Seonghwa had finally hit the bed, Stretching like a cat trying to get comfortable enough to sleep but of course he couldn’t, So he tossed and turned finally getting comfortable and closing his eyes.

But to his surprise nothing. He had sighed loudly out of his nose as he turned to grab his phone and stare at the time. It took 15 minutes until he gave up. He rolled his eyes at the time cursing the world for not letting him get the rest he needed but finally decided to open his phone and get to scrolling again.

And this time he’s reading comments on the new interview, He loved seeing everyone excited about new things they learned about the members but what he also loved is the clips.

And this clip had seonghwa conflicted. It was when he was talking about one of his biggest things in life and how he achieved it but the clip wasn’t of him telling his story but it was of hongjoong. The man was staring into his eyes like he was enchanted, His eyes followed everytime seonghwa moved on the chair as he spoke, His eyes were focused on him but also not. And seonghwa froze once he realized it.

Hongjoong looked at his lips… Why? That’s just fake, Right?

Wrong it’s in every clip of that part. He stares for a good 10 seconds before going back up to his eyes staring passionately. And apparently this isn’t the first time he’s done this.

The taller man sits up in shock as he keeps scrolling finding every clip where hongjoong does the exact thing and even biting his lip in some. And thats when seonghwa feels his heart race and something in his stomach just flipped.

He quickly closed out twitter, He didn’t want to keep looking because he felt like hes just trying to make something appear in something that would never happen.

So he just scrolls endlessly on tiktok but something stops him.

DING

And thats when seonghwa races to open the message.

Joong

“Yo you up?”

Seonghwa

“Yea.”

“You also having trouble?”

Joong

“Told you id be up, and yes just like you.”

Seonghwa laughed at the little blow “Just like you.” And quickly typed a response. He needed to distract himself from whatever he was feeling from the clips before.

Seonghwa

“What usually helps you sleep joongi?”

Joong

“Y you asking? Tryna steal my technique?”

Seonghwa

“Just need help getting rest.”

“And yes im stealing it <3.”

Joong

“Ill let you steal anything from me any day.”

And thats when seonghwa felt it again. That same feeling, His heart skipped his stomach fluttered and his hands got sweaty. What is wrong with him? It was just a cute snapback at his own flirty joke, Not like joong was serious.

And thats when the next message changed seonghwa’s entire life.

Joong

“Masturbating usually helps me.”

Holy shit. He felt his entire body get shivers as the next images that popped in his mind were his bestfriend, Head thrown back, Dick in hand and hes quietly moaning and groaning as he strokes himself slowly but roughly trying to waste his energy just so he could sleep. All he could think about was how he looked while doing it.

What faces did joong make? How loud does he get? Does he moan groan or whine? Does he do all of them? How fast does he go? What does he watch? Does he top?

He quickly drags himself out of that mindset, Trying to calm himself down by responding. He feels his body hot and his heart racing, He feels like a schoolgirl who almost got caught doing something against her parents strict rules.

Seonghwa

“Really?”

Joong

“Yep, It helps out alot.”

Seonghwa

“Never tried to do that to force myself asleep.”

Joong

“Hey i mean i was going to do it.”

“But i decided to text you.”

Seonghwa felt the immediate rush of blood flow everywhere but his brain. The thought of hongjoong jerking off kept popping up, And now he’s in a hole he dug himself with a problem of his own.

Seonghwa

“Wowww im so special you decided to text me over jacking off.”

“im so honored.”

Joong

“Idc. Id do it while texting you hwa. im tired and cant sleep and thats honestly the only way i know how.”

And at that second seonghwa quickly but quietly ran up and out his and wooyoungs shared room and into the bathroom he had closest to his room. He locked the door and sat at the toilet groaning as he looked at his own hard on.

Seonghwa

“Thats pretty crazy to say joong.”

And just after he sent that he raised his own hips to slide off his sweats, Along with his boxers letting his dick spring out into the cold air. He sucked air through his teeth trying to get used to the coldness.

Just as he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock his phone dinged and he immediately opened the message.

Joong

“Says the one who just ran into the bathroom.”

Seonghwa

“???”

And just then his phone dinged again this time an image showing up, He bit his lip as he anxiously opened the image. It showed him opening the bathroom door phone in hand. The photo was taken across from him. Exactly where san and hongjoong were roomied up.

Seonghwa gulped as he slowly stroke his own dick while typing back to hongjoong.

Seonghwa

“Stalker much?”

Joong

“Not my fault i saw you the second i went to do what your doing right now.”

And seonghwa quietly groaned at the fact the other male knew exactly what he was doing right now.

Seonghwa

“Perv.”

Joong

“Aren’t you also jerking off right now.”

Seonghwa let out an airy laugh as he squeezed at the tip teasing himself as he read the message out again imagining hongjoong saying that to his face, Practically spitting at him at how much of a pervert he was for masturbating while texting his best friend.

Seonghwa

“This might be weird but how do you do it.”

Joong

“Bold question, But ill answer.”

“I usually go fast and hard since im exhausted. So id rather get it over with so i can sleep.”

And that second seonghwa swore he was about to cum just at the thought of hongjoong abusing his dick forcing huge strings of cum to burst out of his cock.

Seonghwa

“I have to try that. Im usually slow and hard. But then again im never in a hurry.”

Joong

“If you really want to sleep faster everytime you get to your tip squeeze a bit tighter and twist your hand, I come fast from doing that like 3 times.”

And seonghwa immediately listens placing his phone down on the sink counter snd quickly picking up his pace and quietly moaning as he slams his hand down hard on his shaft. Keeping a fast and hard rhythm and just as he goes to stroke again he squeezes around his tip and twists while pulling his hand down his dick, The shock that spills through his dick to the rest of his body feels electric, He throws his head back and lets out a groan as he repeats the same motion and rythmn.

And the third time he does it he feels his legs start to shake as he fastens the pace and constantly twisting his dick, The absolute wave of pleasure he gets slapped with is overwhelming that he completely ignores his phone buzzing with texts and covers his mouth muffling the loud moans and curses that slip past his mouth as he shoots strings and strings of cum.

Seonghwa sits there hand full of cum as the shots of cum land on his shirt and thighs, Some missing and landing on the seat and floor. He sits back panting and catching his breath as he feels his cum becoming hard, He groans and quickly grabs the wipes wiping down his body riding himself of his cum leftovers, And cleaning the seat and floor.

He throws his cum stained shirt into the hamper leaving him shirtless in the coldness of their place. And just then another ding comes from his phone, And he quickly picks the phone up left with an image and a few messages

Joong

“Hwaaa?”

“Seems like someone took my advice.”

“I miss you i wanna talk to you before i starttt.”

1 IMAGE ATTACHED

And once seonghwa opens the image he feels his stomach drop. Completely shocked and in awe at the picture, The image shows off hongjoongs hand with his sweats, The blue light just barely lighting the shorter mans hand, And if you adjust the brightness you can see it almost perfectly. Hongjoong was holding the outline of his dick through the sweats. His team ring being lit up by the blue light and some of his dick outline also being lit.

He looked huge. And it took everything in seonghwa not to run into that bathroom and suck him dry, Choking on hongjoongs dick tearing up as the shorter mans fucks up into his mouth.

And just then seonghwa smiles at himself as he quickly pulls his sweats down slightly just showing off his vline, And the light just so perfectly shines showing his perfect abs and just stoping at his perfect hips. Vline just visible, Any further and his dick will peek out. And with that seonghwa takes a picture and sends it along with a text

Seonghwa

“Maybe you might go to sleep faster than you think joongie.”

1 IMAGE ATTACHED

“Dream of me will you.? Also thanks for the tip.”

And just with that seonghwa unlocks the bathroom, Walking out with a proud smile and just before he enters his room he stares where hongjoong would be at in the bathroom and just as he enters his room he swears he could hear a groan.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Quickly the morning arrives and seonghwa swears he had the sleep of his life, He walks downstairs and everyone turns to the usual grumpy seonghwa.

“Morning grump.” “Morning jongho.” Seonghwa replied with a smile and thats when yeosang and jongjo froze. Hwa walked past them to grab a banana from the counter behind them and walks back around and sits at the island across from the two.

Mingi turned his head and stared at seonghwa squinting at the older man trying to understand why hes not his normal grump self.

“What?” Seonghwa spoke up while having mouth full of banana. “Did you actually get sleep.?” San spoke in a soft and quiet tone, Everyone but hongjoong was confused.

Seonghwa glared over towards where hongjoong was standing at which was near the fridge, And the two locked eyes, Hongjoong smiled towards him and seonghwa smiled back and immediately everyone look at hongjoong.

“Oh my god did hongjoong help you get sleep? I heard he always stays up so im guessing he gave you tips!” Yeosang spoke up and everyone around broke out into “ohhh” and went back to their normal routine, Except wooyoung.

“Hongjoong how do you get good sleep even though san tells me it take you hours to sleep.” Seonghwa gets up to throw the banana away and grab a plate of food that wooyoung cooked earlier.

“Cant share my technique to those who dont need it.” The brown haired man said and wooyoung groaned in response.

Of course hongjoong wouldn’t say anything why would he? He would threaten the friendship by exposing themselves and saying “We jerked off last night together.”

No hongjoong wasn’t like that, And he knew that too. For the years he’s been with him in this group and the years they’ve been best friends he knows by heart hongjoong would never jeopardize anyone in the group but especially the bond they have.

And for the rest of the day he could feel hongjoongs focus on him, And seonghwa enjoyed every second. The sudden awkwardness he felt during the interview yesterday completely faded away after the two’s little fiasco last night. The weird feeling seonghwa felt as if he was feeling dirty at how much his heart would skip as joong looked at him was completely washed away as he feels something had been growing between the two and it was about to fully bloom.

Hours had passed and it was finally their break, Everyone ran to grab drinks or just lay on the couch or floor. And some just wanted to rest ontop of their preferred member. Seonghwa had walked past woosan who were practically cuddling on the dance practice floor, He had completely let his body go limp once he sat down on the black couch that rested in their practice room.

He laid his head back resting his arm on top the back of the couch while his other arm stay limp near his body. His chest was rising and falling slow as he was finally catching his breath after the hours of practice, His feet and back were killing him and he swore he developed a headache from the hardcore dancing he had just done.

And just when he felt at peace he hears footsteps approaching him slowly yet rapidly, He picks his head up and stares at an exhausted hongjoong who just walked up to him with a weak smile. He knew what his captain wanted and wouldn’t push him away, He also wanted to just rest with his comfort person.

And so they did, Hongjoong laid his whole body out on the couch and laid his head in seonghwas lap as if he were a cat just wanting to be near their owner constantly. The taller man softly played with the peaceful mans hair causing his body to relax more than it already was, He felt joongs soft inhales and exhales as he kept playing with his hair. This is what peace is. This is what he wants for the rest of his life.

Just afterwards seonghwa quickly falls asleep while hongjoong fell asleep in his lap, The two look so peaceful and happy just to be in this position, To feel completely safe and normal with small things like this. And the last thing seonghwa hears before fully sleeping is sans giggling and whispering.

At least an hour passed and seonghwa woke up as he felt hongjoong move to lay on his back, Seonghwa groans and lifts his head from leaning to the side and stretches his neck cracking the sharp pain he had from holding his neck in place like that. He then stared down and smiled at the half awake male that laid in his lap staring back at him.

“Hey.” Seonghwa spoke up his voice slightly deeper laced with the remaining drops of exhaustion that ran through his body.

“Hey.” Hongjoong responded back in his soft tone, The mix of the softness and deepness he heard made his heart skip.

The two just stared at each other with no more words spoken, The two stared into each others eyes, Their chests rising and falling slowly as they wake up from that nap. The air felt thick seonghwa felt suffocated in the air that traveled his body and wrapped around it. And that’s when seonghwa leaned in. Slowly their faces grew closer.

Seonghwa moved a piece of hair that fell onto hongjoongs face once the man had moved to get comfortable in the beautiful mans lap. Something about this made seonghwa want to risk everything. Hongjoongs gaze felt rough. Like if he was staring at him with such a huge want.

He stared eyes moving as he took in every detail. Seeing hongjoong relaxed in his lap, Seeing how beautiful hongjoong lips looked right now made his heart twist, The way his hair is laid out on his face was so hot. And he took in all the piercings he had, He always knew but to see them this close was perfect.

And the second he met eyes with hongjoong again he felt himself swallow hard and just for a few more seconds he held perfect eye contact until he stared again at hongjoongs beautiful lips and suddenly they crash together.

Hongjoong holding the back of Seonghwa’s neck as the two kissed, The kiss was quick and soft until they got longer and the kisses became intense. Hongjoong had fully sat up and moved away this time his body was staring towards hwa. Seonghwa took this quick second to look at the man’s entire body and how hot he looked as he started breathing faster. And in that second hongjoong snakes his hands around his waist and suddenly pulls him in by the waist.

Seonghwa kissed the man in response to this and suddenly he’s climbing on top of him sitting in his lap as the two kissed again.Hongjoong quickly bit the taller mans mouth causing him to open it allowing hongjoong to dominate his mouth. Taking every second to explore his mouth and just as he would do so the longer haired man whined into the kiss.

Suddenly hongjoong broke apart the kiss to catch his breath and take in the sight of a fully kiss fucked seonghwa, His lips were sore and bruised from the amount of rough kisses the two had.

“You look so beautiful.” Hongjoong said barely above a whisper as he leaned in to leave soft kisses and kitten licks to his neck, And as expected seonghwa tilted his head leaving his neck out for him to just abuse and mark up.

And hongjoong did just that, He started out with soft kisses and started biting and sucking on the mans neck leaving marks up and down his neck as seonghwa quietly moaned out with every marl to his neck.

“Joong-ah.. Is this.. mm.. okay?” Seonghwa moaned out as he stared into his eyes, Hongjoong had responded with a soft kiss to his lips and a smile.

“It is unless you don’t think so then i don’t mind stopping right here hwa.” The shorter man responded as he rubbed circles into seonghwa’s hips with his hands, It was comforting and perfect. This entire thing was.

“Mhm.” “Good im glad, Especially because of that perfect fucking tease last night.” Hongjoongs voice suddenly changed as if it was laced with lustrous undertones to his soft and needy tone.

“You liked it mmmff! Didnt you?” Seonghwa managed to speak up as hongjoong bit his neck again perfectly marking him up, And seonghwa loved every bite that he took because it symbolized that joong wanted hwa. He wanted people to know he’s his.

“Liked it? You know what you did.” Hongjoong said his tone was completely full of lust and it was driving seonghwa crazy.

“What did i do? I mean you helped me so i just wanted to show my appreciation.”He breathed out as the shorter man softly brushed his fingertips along seonghwas waist all the way up to his chest.

“Yeah by showing me your half naked sexy body while i was about to jerk off.?” And just as he said that he locked eyes with him again, And he swore he could’ve came at the spot, His eyes were so dark and hidden behind such a need such a want. It was so addictive to look in his eyes and feel himself harden more and more just with staring into his eyes.

“Well.. did it work.” “Fuck yes hwa.” And right with that sentence they crashed lips again this time it was dirty. Their lips sloppily making out, Hands traveling all over each other trying to find a perfect spot. And just as they did so seonghwa grinded his hips into hongjoongs, Their erections rubbing against each other. The sudden electric jolt that ran through their bodies sending shivers down their spines and causing pre cum to spill from their dicks was intoxicating.

The two men kept grinding against each other as if they were horny teenagers with nothing to use but a pillow to rut against. It was so hot, All seonghwa could hear was hongjoong groaning each time he rolled his hips into his. The friction being made was killing seonghwa.

Hwa then pulled his own shirt off just to feel closer to joong in anyway, He needed their skin to touch or he was going to fucking lose it. And immediately after hongjoong threw his to the side and immediately started attacking his shoulders with kisses and bites, Then his chest. Especially stopping at his muscular breasts.

That was one of hongjoongs favorite things about soenghwa. His beautiful full chest, He loved squeezing them and watching the mans face contort into such a pleased face, Watching how he reacted everytime he kissed his nipples, Hearing the beautiful sounds that slipped his mouth as he sucked and licked and bit his sensitive nipples.

Seonghwa was gripping the shorter mans shoulders as he sucked and treated his chest with such beautiful respect, The sounds hongjoong made while sucking and lapping at his chest was disgusting. And in that moment he wanted to cum.

“Joongie nghh.. Jagiya . Pleasee..” Hwa whined and hongjoong smirked as he stopped and flicked at seonghwas chest, Slightly pinching and pulling his nipples. “Yes baby?” He replied innocently and watched as seonghwa held back the loudest moan.

“Pleaseee . Joong.” “Speak jagi.” Hongjoong calmly responded just smiling up at the man who was a mess, His head was thrown back and sweat ran down his neck all the way towards his stomach. His body was covered in hickeys and bite marks, And fuck the whines spilling out of his mouth.

“I need your dick so bad.” Seonghwa moaned out as he locked eyes with hongjoong, And just like that he groaned quickly grabbing the waistband of his pants and immediately unbuttoning the pants and zipping them off, Lifting his hips up and seonghwa lifts himself up to rid himself of his pants, He sat back down on his lap their clothed dicks touching making the two bite their lips.

Hongjoong wrapped his hands around seonghwa’s long dick, Yeah it wasn’t as much as his but hwa’s size was easily 6inches. It was skinny and slightly thick and god in his eyes it was perfect. Seonghwa whimpered at the sudden grip around his neglected dick.

He slowly pumped the mans cock through his boxers and just as he did he watched seonghwa place his hands on hongjoongs things and throwing his head back as he arched up forwards. It was such s beautiful sight and he needed this man to be completely naked and a ruined mess now or else he was going to murder someone.

Hongjoong stopped and pulled both his and seonghwa’s boxers down to let their dicks spring together and to breathe. They both gasped at the cold air that smacked their dick violently, The coldness sending shivers down their body.

And just as hongjoong pulled both their dicks out he connects them by grabbing both of them and forcing them to rub together drawing a long mewl from seonghwa.

“Jagiya.. mm give me your hand.” Hongjoong groaned as he felt seonghwa’s dick twitch against his own it was such a thrilling feeling. Anyone could walk back into this room and catch the two here like this. Seeing seonghwa marked and bit up and on the brink of falling apart all at the cause of hongjoong.

And seonghwa held his hand out for hongjoong he watched as he brought his hand up to kiss it was so idiotic and adorable, And hongjoong held eye contact the entire time as he kissed his hand, And as quickly as it was cute it was hot.

Seonghwa watched as hongjoong placed his hand wrapped around both their dicks just like homgjoongs and seonghwa whimpered at the sight, He then grabbed seonghwa’s other hand and wrapped it about their dicks.

Hongjoong held an arm around seonghwa pulling him closer and their dicks rub again causing them both to moan at the sensation.

“Fuck, If you need to tap out just tell me okay.” Homgjoong said as he threw a sweet smile at hwa and im response he gets a nod amd a “hurry the fuck up please.” And just with that he starts jerking the two off at a normal speed, Seonghwa keeping his pace and doing the same as hongjoong, The two moan as they jerk each other off the feeling of having their dicks rub against each other as they pump their cocks together made seonghwa’s head spin.

He would’ve never expected that a simple “u up” text would’ve ended up with him moaning in his captains lap as he jerked his dicks off. But was he complaining? No.

“Look at me pleaseeee hwa.” Hongjoong had moaned out as he stared at him with half lidded eyes clouded by lust, The only thing on his mind was seonghwa and the feeling of his beautiful dick rubbed against his own. Seonghwa looked straight into hongjoongs eyes and moaned out as they both picked up the pace hongjoong groaned as he watched the taller boys eyes roll into the back of his head and throw his head back moaning loudly and letting curses slip past his kiss bruised lips.

Neither of them cared how loud they were just focused on how good it felt, The intoxicating sound of the wet slides of their cocks rubbing and being pumped, The strings of moans and whines of curses slipping out of hwa’s lips, And the groans and curses coming out of hongjoong filled their room and their ears. And that was their music.

Seonghwa felt his legs shake as he started pumping their dicks faster, He kept begging louder snd higher moaning out ‘fuck fuck fuck fuck.’ and a bunch of “joongie ah ah hongjoong!” in the middle of his begging. And once he saw seonghwa’s body jolt he immediately started squeezing his hand around their dicks and pumping them both fast and hard.

And just as he did that Seonghwa’s dick spasmed and squirted out strings of cum painting both their stomachs white and dicks coated, Seonghwa let out the loudest moan as he shot his cum all over his captain and himself, And hongjoong kept going even when seonghwa was a whimpering squeaking mess as he was being overstimulated.

“Hwa hwa hwa fuck im gonna cum.” Is all seonghwa heard before hearing a loud groan and watching as hongjoongs dick shot out loads mixing with seonghwa’s own cum. Once hongjoong let go of their dicks hwa let his body fall into joongs and took in his scent as he rode down from his high while joong drew circles in his back while hugging the man tightly.

“Hah, Who would’ve guessed the most innocent text lead up to the most disgusting masturbation session i ever had.” Hongjoong laughed out his voice raspy from all the groaning and moaning.

“I wouldn’t have wished for a different outcome.” The blonde spoke up kissing the smaller male before laying his forehead on his shoulder.

“Now please clean me up i feel horribly dirty.”

“Yes my princess.”

「AO3」 ────

#seonghwa #hongjoong #seongjoong #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #fanfic #kpop bg #seonghwa fanfic #hongjoong fanfic #smut #ateez smut #seongjoong fic

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sequinsmile-x · 6 months ago

Text

Aftertaste

Emily has a panic attack.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is another one of those ideas that kind of came to me on a night when I couldn't sleep. (I'm currently doing the very grown up thing of buying my first home and the anxiety is crippling so your gal isn't sleeping.) So, welcome to another part of the insomnia chronicles.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: Trauma, PTSD, panic attack

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He was even softer than she thought he’d be.

She’d known him long enough to have seen it. To see the tender way he treated his son, how he’d been the same with Haley during the few times Emily had seen them as a couple. For years she allowed herself the fantasy of how he’d be with her, how he’d be gentle in a way no one else would ever know she wanted or needed. He’d exceeded her expectations over the last few weeks, treating her like she was made of something precious but never tripping over into treating her like she was fragile.

She already knew she was in love with him, had known it for much longer than she cared to admit even to herself, but she couldn’t say it yet. The words trapped in her chest, buried under the rubble of all those that came before him, all those who had helped forge the walls she’d built around herself, the tools first handed to her by her mother before she was old enough to understand.

She can’t bring herself to let go of him, her arms wrapped around him from behind, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as he digs through his pockets for the key to his apartment.

“You said Jack is with Jess tonight?” She murmurs, kissing him through his jacket, breathing in the comforting scent of him, the vibration of his response passing back from his chest into hers.

“Yes, she’s bringing him home in the morning,” he replies, pushing the door open before he turns in her arms, his smile soft as he presses it against hers, his hands on her lower back as he spins them, gently pushing her into the apartment first, “He said he’s excited for breakfast with you tomorrow,” he kisses her cheek before he unwraps himself from around her to lock his front door, “I told him we’d go to that diner he likes.”

Emily smiles nervously, an uncharacteristic shake to it, “And you’re sure-”

“Em,” he says, cutting her off with an understanding grin. He’d assured her more than once that Jack loved her, that he always wanted to spend time with her, especially now she was his father’s girlfriend, “I think you’re his favourite person on the planet. He loves spending time with you.”

She presses her lips together to try to contain her smile, her cheeks warm with love for both of them, “I love spending time with him too.”

He hums, his hands on her hips as he tugs her closer, “Just him?”

Her smile turns teasing, her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth as she shrugs, “You too I guess.”

He swallows her yelp as he pulls her into a kiss, his hands moving to her back as they lose themselves in each other. When he breaks the kiss he rests his forehead against hers, “Drink?”

She nods, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip, chasing the taste of him whilst he grabs her hand and leads her towards the couch. As soon as she’s sitting down he tries to move, his hand slipping out of hers, but she stops him, the thought of not touching him too much to bear. She kisses him, a hand on each of his cheeks as he leans over the couch, holding him in place as he boxes her in. She stamps another kiss against his lower lip as he pulls away, smiling as she nips at the plushness of it, “I’ll take that drink now.”

He smiles, his dimples forming under her touch, the perfect size for her thumbs to sit, and he nods, “Do you want anything in particular or shall I surprise you?”

She hums as she lets him go, feeling oddly bereft when he steps away, leaving coolness in his place as he walks the short distance to the bar cart, “What have you got?”

“Well, Dave got me some whiskey for my birthday last year that I’ve never opened,” he says, reaching past the bottles neatly lined up on the front of the cart, “It always seemed too nice to drink alone, but…”

She stops hearing him when he shows her the bottle. The red glass momentarily makes her freeze, and the small gold bird on the label pulls her back in time. Aaron’s deep honey-coloured eyes are briefly replaced with icy blue ones, a flash of the past in between blinks that makes her breath catch in her chest.

“Em, are you okay?”

She swallows thickly and looks at him, already nodding before she’s really sure, “I’m fine,” she says as she forces a smile, carrying on before he can ask again, “That’s an expensive bottle. Dave must have dropped at least a $1,000 on it.”

He nods as he pulls the tag in the red foil around the neck of the bottle, “He told me it was $1,150,” he smiles wryly, “He likes to tell me how expensive things are in an attempt to make me feel uncomfortable,” his smile gets wider as she laughs, some of the tension in her chest easing, “I didn’t know you knew anything about speciality whiskeys.”

Her mouth goes dry, her tongue heavy as she tries and fails to think of a way to respond. She didn’t know about whiskey, not really, but she knew this one. It was Ian’s favourite, something she was sure had everything to do with the price tag attached to it rather than the taste of the liquor itself. He’d always loved the finer things in life, always wanted the most expensive looking thing possible to improve his image. She knew she had counted as one of those things. It was why he’d bought her only the best clothes, never asking once if she liked any of them before he presented her with them, dressing her up as if she belonged to him.

The scar on her chest aches, burning as if it were fresh, the smell of charred flesh briefly filling her senses before Aaron sinks on the couch next to her, passing her one of the glasses in his hand - a generous measure of whiskey in each.

“Thanks,” she says, smiling as she takes it, staring at the amber liquid, “You know, I would have been happy with a normal $40 bottle of whiskey. They all taste the same over that price point anyway.”

“I know,” he replies as he leans in to kiss her, the scent of his cologne washing over her, replacing anything else as she sinks into it, turning so she curls into his side, her hand on his thigh. His eyebrows knit together as he pulls back, a flicker of concern thrumming under his skin as she practically clings to him, her grip on his leg tight, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nods, watching as he takes a swig of his drink, her gaze fixed on his Adam's apple when it shifts as he swallows. She doesn’t want to get into it, doesn’t want Ian to ruin what had been a perfect date with her boyfriend by bringing him up, his presence already having inevitably wormed into their very first one just a few weeks ago when Aaron saw her naked for the first time. He swore he only saw her, his touch gentle and kind as he skimmed his fingers over her scars. She hadn’t believed him until he took off his shirt and she saw his, Foyet the furthest thing from her mind as she took in how beautiful he was.

She’s moving before she thinks about it, grabbing the glass from him and placing it down with hers on the coffee table. Before he can question what she’s doing she’s straddling him, her knees bracketing his hips as she sinks into his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him before he can say anything else, sighing contentedly when he wraps his arms around her, his fingertips from his spanned-out hands almost touching each other over her spine. She can taste the whiskey on his tongue but it’s chased by him, the final notes of it something she was already used to and aching to have for the rest of her life.

He encourages her upwards, his hands squeezing her hips as they stand together, moving in tandem as he ends up behind her, his chest against her back, “Bedroom.”

She’s so focused on him, on the way his palm is warm through the material of her dress, on his lips pressing against her collarbone, that she simply nods in response. Sure her voice would give away how much she wanted him, her desire lodged in her throat. When they make it to his room he turns her, his touch gentle yet insistent as he tugs her dress over her head, his pupils blown wide as he looks her up and down.

“Beautiful,” he mumbles, the word half pressed against her lips as he encourages her backwards, the back of her knees hitting the bed as he guides her down, his hands on her back as she arches up into him, “So beautiful.”

She’d always been complimented on her appearance. It started before she was old enough to understand the currency of it. Men her mother was friends with telling her she was pretty before she knew how her face and her body would be both something she could weaponise as well as something that could be used against her. Ian had always called her gorgeous. The word spat out amongst curse words whenever they fucked, the compliment she’s sure he meant lost somewhere along the way.

Aaron always called her beautiful. It made her skin flush, warmth spreading from her cheeks down her neck whenever he said it, and something about the way he looked at her made her believe him every time. A sense of awe shining back at her as if he was looking at a piece of priceless art in a museum, hidden behind glass she’d placed in front of herself after one too many people had tried to ruin her.

She smiles and pulls him in for a kiss, spreading her legs so he can settle between them, the weight of him against her as much of a comfort as anything else. She hooks a leg around him, smirking as their kiss breaks and he ruts his hips against hers, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as their eyes meet,

“Do you like the lingerie?” She asks, even though she knows the answer, the heavy weight of him against her hip obvious even through his pants, “I bought it for you.”

He growls at the admission as he looks her up and down, taking in the forest green lace cupping her breasts and hugging her hips, and pride pulses through her. The fact she could do this to him, the most controlled man she’d ever met, enough to make her burst. He leans in, his kiss more passionate this time, forceful in a way that makes her moan, and she holds him closer. He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath skipping across her face.

“You’re gorgeous.”

Everything changes in an instant. The pleasant warmth she’d been feeling, the arousal burning in her veins, immediately replaced by ice, panic washing over her at the combination of the whiskey on his breath and the compliment that had once belonged to another man. She can smell smoke and fear and burned flesh and she feels herself folding inwards, her chest collapsing as Aaron’s weight above her is suddenly oppressive. She’s brought back the moment he kisses her neck, a shiver passing through her for all the wrong reasons as she shies away from it, her hands forceful on his shoulders, her foot now pushing at his hip, as she tries to get free.

“Stop,” she chokes out, her voice sounding nothing like her own, “Aaron, stop.”

She needn’t have asked the second time, he was already moving, but she does. She barely looks at him as she scrambles off the bed, her chest tight as she tries to breathe.

“Em? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

She ignores his questions and looks for an exit, her eyes land on the door to the en-suite and she’s moving before she can think about it, her legs carrying her of her own accord. She slams the door shut behind her and locks it, the heavy wood muffling his continued attempts to talk to her. She turns and leans against it, her head hitting it with a heavy thunk before she sinks to the floor, the cool tile against her ass and thighs a stark reminder she was only wearing her lingerie.

She hugs her legs to her chest and rests her forehead on her knees as she encourages herself to breathe.

“Em?”

A shaky breath rattles in her chest, “Aaron.”

She can hear how it sounds as close to begging as she’s ever come to with him, desperation laced into every syllable. She knows he hears it too as he replies, his voice soft and even as if he’s purposely trying to make himself small to not intimidate her, even through the door.

“I’m not going to force my way in or make you talk to me, I just need to know if you’re hurt, sweetheart.”

Guilt swells in her chest, the fear and concern leaking from him makes its way to the door between them, causing it to swell and warp to the point she’s briefly worried she’ll never get out, stuck on this side of the space she’s forced between them.

She swallows thickly, “I’m not hurt.”

There’s a beat of silence that draws out around her, almost long enough that she thinks he’s left until he speaks, “I’ll leave something for you to wear out here. I’ll be in the living room when you’re ready.”

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t know how to, his kindness almost cutting, making her feel worse for a reaction to something she hadn’t known would trigger her. She doesn’t know how long she sits there on his bathroom floor, the coolness of the tile against her skin something she hangs on to, an anchor in reality, as she reminds herself that Ian is gone. She’d watched him die. That he’d lost and she’d won and now she had this. A man she knew loved her even though neither of them had said it yet. A man who had looked devastated at the thought of hurting her, his pained expression something she’d caught even in the height of her panic.

She eventually scrambles off of the floor, her legs slightly shaky beneath her, and she unlocks the door and steps out into the bedroom. She walks over to the bed and sees her discarded dress folded neatly next to a pair of his boxers and her favourite shirt of his. It makes her ache that he’s given her options even in this - the comfort of him or herself - when he doesn’t understand what has happened. She slips on his clothes, taking the time to bury her face against the collar of his shirt, breathing him in, letting it wash over her before she leaves the bedroom.

He’s sitting on the couch when she makes it to the living room, the bottle of whiskey no longer on the table, hidden away back in it’s place on the bar cart. The glasses are gone too, and she spots them on the draining board. She briefly wonders if he drank any more of the whiskey, but then she smells the coffee in the air and then she sees the half drunk mug of it in front of him. She can picture him cleaning to keep himself busy whilst she sat on his bathroom floor, spurred on by worry for her that stopped him from sitting still, deciding to make coffee that she hopes is decaf just to pass more time.

He looks over at her, his elbows resting on his knees. He looks wrung out, stress painted into the fine lines on his face, and she watches as he tries to force himself to relax, rolling his shoulders as he tries to shrink his frame. She blows out a breath and walks over, the cuffs of his shirt wrapped around her hands as she sits on the coffee table, his knees bracketing hers as she wraps her arms around herself, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finds the words she’s looking for.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I…I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and his hand twitches, reaching out for her before he stops himself, his hand forming a fist by his side, “You have nothing to apologise for, Em,” he says, his voice rough, “I just…what happened?”

She knows if she said she didn’t want to talk about it that he’d drop it, that he’d let it go at least for now, and for a moment she’s tempted. Old habits that died hard calling her back, the empty promises the always offered her a lure she could never quite say no to, somehow never learning that the loneliness they brought weren’t worth the independence they gave her. She shakes it off because she doesn’t want to do that. She wants to tell him, wants him to know this part of her, to let him learn with her the parts of the new version of herself with her.

She reaches out and grabs his hand, smiling softly as she links their fingers together, “I need you to understand this wasn’t your fault,” she starts with, squeezing his hand tighter when he frowns before he forces a tight nod, “The whiskey?” She says, biting the inside of her cheek, “It was Ian’s favourite. He drank it most nights.”

Aaron’s hand loosens it grip on hers, the his shoulders slump no longer a conscious attempt to make himself small and unimposing, but his natural reaction to causing her any kind of discomfort.

“Em,” he breathes out, her name like oxygen he can’t afford to lose as he shakes his head, “Why didn’t you tell me before I opened it? I never would have-”

“I know,” she assures him, wrapping both of her hands around his, “I know, but I didn’t think it would…” she presses her lips together and shakes her head, “I didn’t know that would happen.” She almost doesn’t tell him the rest of it, his reaction to just the whiskey itself enough to break her heart, to cause fractures he had healed to split back open. She knows she has to if she wants this to work, that she doesn’t want to put either of them in this position again, “He…he always called me gorgeous when we were…” she closes her eyes, embarrassment she knows she shouldn’t feel colouring her cheeks, “When we had sex. He’d always call me that. And-”

“I called you gorgeous,” he says, only remembering that he had as she says it, something he’d mumbled against her skin in the heat of the moment.

She nods, her gaze meeting his again, “I think that mixed in with the smell of the whiskey triggered something in my brain,” she hates that she can feel tears burning in her eyes, that this makes her feel so vulnerable in front of a man she’d already been intimate with, but she doesn’t try and stop it, disconnecting one of her hands from around his to wipe her cheek as the tears fall.

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry,” he rasps, sounding close to tears himself, and she moves forward, sitting on the edge of the table so her knees are jammed up against the couch, her forehead against his, the last bit of tension in her chest dissipating at the smell of coffee on his breath, “I didn’t know.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, honey,” she assures him, “I didn’t know that was going to happen, so how could you?”

He kisses her forehead, the first time he’s touched her of his own accord since she’d walked into the living room, and then he pulls her as close as he can in the strange embrace they’d found themselves in, “We know now.”

She smiles softly at the firmness in his tone, as if he was determined to remove the word gorgeous from his vocabulary entirely and swear he’d never drink expensive whiskey again.

She captures his lips in a quick kiss, “Yeah, we know now,” she kisses him again before she stands, encouraging him backwards until she can sit in his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, a position they’d been in just before this all started. Instead of initiating a kiss she curls herself up, her cheek against his chest as she wraps herself around him, intent on being as close as possible. “Thank you for…stopping so quickly,” she says, her smile tight as she pulls away just enough to look up at him, unsure why she feels something close to embarrassed, “I appreciate it.”

He frowns, the line between his eyebrows so deep she can’t help but reach out and soothe it, her thumb pressed against the bridge of his nose, “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

She thinks she somehow falls even more in love with him because of how incredulous he looks, and she stops herself from telling him, already feeling far too exposed for one evening, “Aaron, honey, you remember what we do for a living right?” She runs her fingers through his hair, “Not everyone stops.”

He tightens his hold on her, questions she knows he won’t ask now pressed against her skin through the thin material of the shirt that she is wearing, “If there is ever anything else…” he says, his jaw tight, a ripple of self hatred passing through it, “You’ll tell me?”

She nods pushing her fingers through his hair again, “Unless you take up smoking and dealing in the illegal weapons trade, I think we’ll be okay,” she jokes, her smile faltering when his lips barely twitch with it, the heaviness of what had happened dragging the corners of it down, “I’ll tell you,” she assures him, her lips catching the edge of his jaw as she leans in, determined to remove the tension from it, “I promise.”

He kisses the top of her head, holding her close, touching her like she was made of glass, “Shall we get some sleep?”

She knows this isn’t the end of this, that there is more to discuss beyond what had happened tonight, things they still had to learn about each other, but for now she wants it to be over. Wants to fall asleep in his arms, her face pressed against his neck. Comforted by the knowledge that even if her blue eyed monster visited her in her dreams, the smell of whiskey and danger the harbinger she may never truly be free from, that she’d wake up to Aaron and the love he gave her so freely. A debt she’d always repay without question, taking it in turns to be each other’s solid ground.

“Yeah,” she says, kissing him, “Let’s get some sleep.”

___

When she wakes up in the morning, she’s alone in bed, the coolness of the sheets only improved by the smell of him lingering on them.

She wanders out into the apartment, bleary eyed and confused when it’s cold, every window open and letting in the cool morning air. She finds him in the kitchen, the now empty whiskey bottle disappearing from view almost immediately as he throws it into the recycling bin, the thick, expensive glass thunking against the bottom of it. She understands now why he’d opened all the windows in the early spring, the usual warmth of his apartment nowhere to be found. He hadn’t wanted her to smell the liquor in the air, had made sure to remove every reminder of it and she knew if she hadn’t woken up when she had he would have taken the recycling out too.

“Aaron,” she exclaims, her eyes wide as he turns to look at her, unaware she’d even walked into the room, the sound of the street outside having drowned out her footsteps, “That was worth over $1,000.”

She isn’t sure why she’s saying it, her gaze still fixed on the now empty bottle, the red neck of it peeking out from the recycling. She only realises he’s in front of her when he hooks his thumb under her chin, encouraging her to look up at him.

“I don’t care about that,” he says, sounding so sure she can’t think of one reason to argue with him, “I care about you. I never want to…”

He trails off, his hands tight on her hips as they migrate there as if magnetised, and she nods, wrapping her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his, seeking out his warmth in the cold, “I know,” she replies, stamping her lips against his, “I…thank you.”

It’s not lost on her that he’s thrown away something that was a gift, something he’d kept in the back of his bar cart for a special occasion, and that he’d done it without a second thought. So sure of her, of them, that he hadn’t considered anything else.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” he says, his eyebrows furrowed as if it was ridiculous, as if it wasn’t one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for her, past partner’s resistance to even pick up a box of tampons for her on their way home even more absurd than before, “It’s what you do for someone you lo…”

She fights a smile when he trails off, catching himself before he says it, panic she finds adorable flashing in his eyes. She kisses him, drawn forward as she cups the back of his head, holding him in place when she breaks the kiss. Her nose nudging against his as she says the thing that suddenly didn’t feel as revealing any more. Empowerment found in three words that she once saw only vulnerability in.

“I love you.”

His smile is answer enough, but he says it back, the words skipping across her skin as he repeats them, the smell of fresh coffee and her future lingering on his breath as he presses his lips against hers.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #hotchniss fanfic

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dandylovesturtles · 10 months ago

Text

more Firelined propaganda, because I love them. as always, Firefight is owned by @remedyturtles

for the @tmntaucompetition

-----

Somehow, their teammates are stable. As far as Donnie can tell, this is pretty lucky, given the shape they were in. The other Leo still hasn't come out of his shell, though, eerily silent where he's cradled in the other Donnie's arms. He hasn't wanted to let go, even since they moved the both of them to a cot, and Donnie can't blame him.

There'd been some more running around, some more efforts to get them treated and comfortable, over the course of the last few hours. And now Donnie is pretty sure it's late (or he's experiencing some kind of interdimensional jetlag), and everyone but him is asleep. They'd found another cot and forced Leo, shaking and clearly low on energy reserves, into it; he'd fussed and insisted he wasn't tired, but the moment his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep. It was a little funny - the kind of thing they could chuckle about now, so many months into Leo's recovery. Raph had slumped against the wall and Mikey had climbed into his lap to nap there.

Donnie had promised them he'd join them soon enough. But so far he hasn't moved from his chair by their teammates' cot, typing away on his wrist tech and occasionally asking Shelldon to run some calculations for him.

At least, Donnie thought he was the only one awake, but the longer he sits there, the more he starts to feel the telltale prickle of someone watching him. His eyes rise from his screens and meet the gaze of the other Donnie, awake and observing him from the cot.

He lowers his wrist and gives a little wave of his fingers to the other Donnie. "Do you need more painkillers?" he asks quietly.

(He really needs a distinct designation for their counterparts. He remembers Leo floating the names "Leonother" and "Donatwollo" and shudders. For now, he decides to mentally refer to them as Donnie-β and Leo-β.)

Donnie-β shakes his head. His eyes float beyond Donnie, to where Leo is asleep in his cot. He points and makes a sign that Donnie assumes is his name sign for Leo-β (different from the name sign for his Leo, which is interesting), then waits to see if Donnie understands. At his nod, Donnie-β proceeds to sign, "Sleep, how?" as best as he can under the circumstances.

Donnie lets out a huff that's almost a laugh. "I'm guessing your Leo also suffers from insomnia?" Donnie-β nods. "As it turns out, chronic fatigue is a surprisingly effective cure." Donnie turns back and glances at Leo, sleeping away. "Usually, anyway..."

There are sometimes days Leo suffers from both, too tired to move but unable to sleep. He's always especially emotional on days like that, and Donnie knows he hates it, so he's glad Leo's brain is letting him sleep tonight.

When he looks back, Donnie-β has a complicated expression on his face that Donnie doesn't know how to begin to unpack. After several awkward seconds of silence, Donnie-β signs again, just, "How?" this time.

"How was he hurt?" Donnie clarifies, and Donnie-β nods again. "It was... the Dark Armor. Draxum put him inside." At the wide-eyed look of horror on Donnie-β's face, Donnie comes to the conclusion, "That didn't happen in your timeline, did it?"

Donnie-β shakes his head. It's not a surprise, at this point.

"It seems to be a unique event to our timeline, at least insofar as those assembled here are concerned," says Donnie, flipping through screens to bring up the research he's done on the alternate timelines here. "So far I know of one other timeline where Leo was put inside the armor, but their circumstances are substantially different from ours." He looks back at their teammates, taking in their substantial injuries, then asks, quietly, "This wasn't the Shredder, was it?"

Tired, Donnie-β shakes his head. Then, with a trembling hand, he fingerspells, "Krang."

"We've heard of them," Donnie tells him. "In other universes... Well, it seems like no one got off particularly easily."

It takes some fumbling from his position, but Donnie-β manages to sign, "Maybe not you," indicating the entire group when he does.

Donnie just shakes his head. "We aren't any more lucky than you guys," he says, which makes Donnie-β's mouth twitch in a motion that is at once humorous and grim.

Another few minutes of silence follows, during which Donnie goes back to looking at his screens, mostly to give Donnie-β the illusion of space. He can tell Donnie-β is thinking something over and trying to decide if he wants to bring it up (pretty weird to see that thought process play out on a mirror of his own face, actually), and he also knows it will be easier for him to come to a decision if he's not being stared at.

Finally, Donnie-β motions for his attention, and, once he has it, signs out, "Was it bad?" before indicating that he's talking about Leo. "Mentally, emotionally," he adds.

Donnie grimaces. Ah, no wonder he debated over saying anything... This isn't a topic Donnie is eager to discuss, either. But he has a feeling Donnie-β must have a reason for asking, so he's willing to talk. A little, anyway.

"Yes," he says. And then, because saying it all out loud is starting to feel dangerous, he turns off his wrist tech and switches to modified ASL (luckily, other than the name signs, Donnie-β's version has been close enough for him to follow so far). "It was bad."

Donnie-β looks at Leo, hesitancy written all over his expression. "Can you tell me?" he finally signs, with shaky hands, like he's not sure he wants to know about it but has to ask.

Donnie hesitates, too. Talking about his brother's mental health issues to other people without Leo's permission is a line he would not normally cross. Leo deserves to control who has that kind of information about him, and in what circumstances they're told. In this situation, he doesn't think Leo would mind, but still...

He decides on a compromise. "I can tell you how it was for me."

Perhaps Donnie-β understands the thought process that led here, because he nods and doesn't press for more.

Donnie takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. Thinking about that time, at the beginning of Leo's recovery, is stressful and comes with no small amount of shame. But he can do it, if it will help someone else with their own troubles.

"He was struggling," Donnie signs, because that much he knows is safe to tell, "and I didn't understand. I pushed too hard. I needed him to heal on my timeline. I wanted things to be normal. I wanted to go back to how it was before."

He chews on his lip, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I was scared. I felt like I was losing someone. I wanted my Leo," he uses his own name sign for Leo, then points to be sure Donnie-β knows who he means, "back. I wasn't ready to accept I wasn't getting him back."

Donnie-β's face seemed to drain of color, and he hugged Leo-β to his chest ever tighter. Donnie could only imagine what was going though his counterpart's head.

"Mikey," he fingerspells the name for Donnie-β's benefit, "said I was in mourning." He shrugs exaggeratedly - not because he doesn't believe Mikey, but because feelings have never been his area of expertise. "And that was okay. But I needed to love Leo where he is now."

He glances back at his brother, still sleeping soundly. He feels his heart swell when he does - that part, at least, had been easy.

"Leo is different now. And I love him." Donnie makes the sign for "love" extra exaggerated, to add as much emphasis as he can. "Who he is now. As much. More." He glances over his shoulder again and smiles at Leo.

Donnie-β listens. He puts his chin on Leo-β's shell, tapping out the same message to him again.

"...Scared," he rasps out loud, and his voice barely works; Donnie has to lean in to hear. But Donnie-β seems unwilling now to take his hands off Leo-β. "Of losing him for good."

Donnie's own stomach drops at the idea. He gives his head a firm shake, like that will banish it entirely, for both of them.

"You won't," he says. "You'll save him."

Donnie-β looks hauntingly unsure. "How do you know?" he whispers.

"Because you're Donatello Hamato," says Donnie fiercely, "and you can do anything."

Donnie-β doesn't smile, or laugh, or react in any way a Donnie might normally. Donnie supposes that Leo-β isn't the only one who's going to be different now.

But he nods, seriously, his hand keeping up the gently taps on Leo-β's shell.

"Wouldn't want... to give Donnies a bad name," he murmurs.

"That's right," says Donnie, a sigh in his voice. "And - not to sound like Raph here - but maybe you should start by getting some rest yourself."

Donnie-β lets out a noise that is close enough to an annoyed huff it makes Donnie smile.

"If anything happens-"

"We'll wake you. Don't worry."

A nod. Donnie-β's eyelids droop.

He's asleep soon, curled around Leo-β's shell even in slumber. Donnie makes sure the blankets are tucked firmly around both of them, then stretches.

"Shelldon, wake me if anything changes."

"Sure thing, dude."

Donnie looks at Raph and Mikey's mini-turtle pile, then turns back to Leo's cot. It's not really big enough for two, but without his battle shell Donnie is pretty sure he can make it work.

He tucks himself in behind Leo. Leo makes a soft noise in his sleep, turning over and curling into Donnie instinctively.

Donnie would never want anyone else for a Leo. He knows Donnie-β feels the same about Leo-β. And that's why Donnie can rest - believing, eventually, they would be okay.

#sidelined au #firefight #rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #tmnt au competition #I know the FF boys have a loooooooooong way to go #but let me give them this ok

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azurbright · 20 days ago

Note

Can you write something cute and fluffy about Jimmy and Mumbo please? Maybe they're like sneaking off from their bases and allys to meet up in secret.

AGGHG

I love that you guys are entertaining the idea of this ship. Let me cook. I promise you guys.

Its kinda short, but you get the point!

------

Skizz and Grian had fallen asleep for the night. The small hallways within the bridges were where they slept. It was easy to sneak out, his to friends slept heavy, and nothing could wake them up. Which Mumbo started to think, in a place like this, was a really bad thing. Literally, anyone could come and try to kill them their sleep, and they probably wouldn't even wake up to fight.

Jimmy's attempt to escape the mountain, though, was much more difficult, Lizzie had sleeping problems, insomnia they thought, it didn't usually matter much, she knew where he was going. They never talked about it, but she knew. She also often snuck off to see Joel in the night, but she was less obvious about it. The only one who didn't know was Scar, who was generally oblivious.

They met up inside a small cave entrance pretty far away from where anyone could find them. It was near BigBs base, but they were sure that he wouldn't come looking out here. They felt they could be themselves with each other here. It wasn't a death game when they were together, It didn't matter. They made a pact or more like a promise not to kill eachother, no matter what. They knew in the end, they'd never win anyways.

"Jim, it's so good to see you," Mumbo pauses, "it's been a long day." Today's wildcard had really been something. Mumbo wrapped Jimmy into his arms. It was cold outside, and they hadn't gotten the chance to talk in a while. Mumbo was only slightly taller than Jimmy, and he tended to his rest his head on his shoulder. His mustache tickled his neck a little bit, and he leaned into Mumbo, placing a hand in his hair.

"I've missed you, Mumbo." He pulls back to look at him, "To bad, we don't get to see each other more often. Although, if anyone knew about this, especially people other than our teammates, they'd use it against us. You know that." Jimmy sighed, "and I can't die this time." He was determined, Mumbo would give him that, but he knew it was obsolete, Jimmy was not good at surviving. It wasn't his strong suit. His strong suit, Mumbo thought, was simply just being him. Silly, thoughtless Jimmy. Now that he thought about it, surviving wasn't really his strong suit either. He was smart but not in that way. Besides, he'd probably die to his own hand anyway. For now, though, he'd like to keep Jimmy in his grasp.

He didn't want to think about everything that could happen. Instead, he wanted to focus on the here and now. He slid down the wall, Jimmy falling with him. There was something so gently sweet about this here.

They were sat on the cold hard floor of a cave, embracing each other, and that was, okay, for now. Mumbo placed his chin atop of Jimmy's head lightly. "I'm gonna miss this." Mumbo whispered.

"Me too." Jimmy whispered back, closing his eyes, trying to imagine a world where this wasn't it. It's was impossible. All they knew was this world. Maybe that was okay. Maybe this was all they needed.

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ginnsbaker · 2 years ago

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (3/?)

Chapter summary: Wanda finds you again after months of estrangement.

Chapter word count: 5.5k

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Decided to post this early in celebration of Love & Death's final episode.

AO3 | Masterlist

Next Chapter: Four

Three

At two in the morning, Wanda’s insomnia is at its worst.

Sleep doesn’t come despite doubling her usual dosage of sleeping pills, and she considers taking another, just so she can stop thinking about what Pietro said–about you moving on with someone new. Because despite her confidence in your love for her, her faith is waning with each passing day that you continue to leave her messages seen and her calls unanswered.

She wonders how love–a resilient but tainted one–can survive in the dark. If it can survive at all.

Wanda remembers reading somewhere on the internet that the human epidermis continually makes new cells every second, so that in just 30 days, one’s skin is entirely new. In months of being apart, it meant that there’s no longer an inch of her that has ever touched you. All that remains of her in you are memories. And what a fragile thing they are, when people are always forgetting.

Wanda doesn’t want to be forgotten. Least of all by you.

She knows it’s within your rights to fall in love again, and she’s adamant for it to be with her. Her stubborn nature makes her cling to your wedding vow: that if you don’t end up with her, then you end up with no one. Maybe she’s delirious to still believe that you’d fulfill those promises, especially with how hard it is to reconcile those promises with dead silence.

Nevertheless, Wanda tries. She continues to send you mundane messages like a restaurant discovery or what she had for lunch, or a comment on the weather, telling you how nice it’d be to go outside for a walk.

Tonight, she sends you a text about Sparky’s visit to the vet, hoping it provokes a reaction from you. It immediately gets read. Wanda’s breath hitches when she sees three dots appear right after her message. However, they soon disappear, leaving Wanda to stare at another unanswered text.

Tomorrow, then. And if not, the day after. Wanda won’t let you forget about her.

Agatha helps her with the finishing touches on her café, which happens to be unsold paintings donated by her colleagues from the gallery itself that Agatha manages. She’s informed Wanda that she’s considering early retirement to find something else to do, and when Wanda mentioned that she’s opening up a business, Agatha suggested she’d volunteer to help out on weekends in exchange for free coffee and dessert any day of the week. Wanda didn’t think twice to accept the proposal, and they shook on it.

“You have an eye for design, Wanda. You can make a career out of it once your cafe takes off and can hire someone to manage instead of doing it all by yourself.” Agatha says, dusting the final frame they hanged on the wall.

“Thanks. It’s just not me though. I had a lot of help from friends in NYU.” Wanda says, going behind the counter to make sure everything’s set for the big day, two days from now.

“Are you worried about the opening?” Agatha asks.

“A bit, yes.” Wanda admits with a sigh.

“Don’t be. Your pastries alone will keep this adorable thing afloat.” Agatha assures her, admiring the aforementioned pastries currently cooking in the oven.

Wanda smiles graciously, a little unsure if she’d take it as a compliment. With her former boss, it’s hard to tell sometimes. Agatha has the tendency to toe the line between maternal and condescending.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Pietro, who Wanda didn’t notice entering the shop just now, chimes in. Her brother taps Agatha on the shoulder, making the older woman turn her head in an unnecessarily coquettish manner. Wanda lifts an eyebrow as she observes the two.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Pietro says, before running a hand through his hair and letting his textured, angular fringe fall dramatically back over his bleached eyebrows. “I’m Pietro, Wanda’s twin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Agatha says evenly with a smile, turning around to face him fully.

Pietro stands unnecessarily closer to her and says, “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

Wanda’s never heard Agatha giggle like a schoolgirl, and shoots him a murderous look. Her oblivious brother merely carries on staring at Agatha like he could see through her clothes.

Squeezing into the narrow space between the two, she starts pushing her brother away from his prey. She can already sense him scheming, and she’s not going to let him potentially ward off the free help she’s gonna get on weekends.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wanda hisses at him under her breath as soon as she’s positive Agatha’s no longer within earshot.

He raises his hands in front of him in defense. “I was being friendly.”

“No, you weren’t. You were literally eyefucking my ex-boss back there.”

Pietro shrugs. “Maybe she was eyefucking me.”

“I swear, you’re going to–”

“Excuse me?” Agatha interrupts, and they both whip their head towards her–Wanda with a stricken look, and Pietro with a cheshire grin. Agatha can’t help but think how they’re both very attractive.

She addresses Wanda first. “I’m sorry but I have to go. Call me if you need anything, sweetie.”

“Thanks again, Agatha.” Wanda says.

And then she turns to Pietro and winks at him. “I’ll see you around, handsome.”

“Oh, you will.” Pietro answers in a sultry voice that has Wanda harshly digging her nails into his forearm.

He only reacts to the pain after Agatha stepped outside. “Ow! Let go of me!”

“She’s off limits you pig.” Wanda chastises, landing some weak strikes on his arm.

“Fine!” Pietro throws his hands up in surrender.

Wanda lets him go with a triumphant smile. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought I’d see you on Monday.” she says.

“My friend invited me to this club tonight, and I want you to come with.” Pietro says.

“I’m not really in the mood to party.”

“You really have changed since you’ve been married to Y/N.”

“Thanks.” Wanda says curtly, and it’s not even sarcastic. If there were changes about her that were of your influence, then they could only mean the good kind. Wanda has long ago learned that she likes herself best when she’s with you.

“Don’t you at least feel like celebrating this?” Pietro gestures at the tiny confines of the cafe.

“My idea of celebration is just steaks and wine,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders. “Lots of wine.”

“Wands, you can’t keep punishing yourself. You deserve to have a good time once in a while.”

Wanda scoffs. “Punishing myself? Believe me, I haven’t started.”

“Wanda, come on,” Pietro pleads earnestly. “The thing is, I’m planning to bump into this real estate dude, and having my sister to make me look like a decent guy is going to help my chances in my investment pitch, okay?”

Wanda considers the new information. “Why didn’t you start with that in the first place?”

“Because I didn’t want to flat-out ask my heartbroken sister for help. Cause I know you’re… You’re half the person you used to be. You’re not whole, and here I am, needing your help when there’s nothing I can do to help you back.”

It’s the most vulnerable she’s seen her brother, and it makes Wanda want to gather him in his arms and be children again.

“Piet..”

Pietro assumes back a sturdy posture. “I’m sorry. I just need you. But if–”

“I’ll be there. Just text me where and what time you need me.” Wanda assures him.

“I’ll owe you one, sis.”

“Try twenty.”

Pietro deserts her as soon as she serves her purpose, and he gets invited to the VIP floor of his prospective investor. Wanda doesn’t hold it against him, seeing how important this deal is to him. Besides, thirty minutes of blaring techno (it’s a crime to call it music, Wanda muses) and seizure-inducing lights are too much for Wanda to bear. She just happens to have four drinks in front of her (bought by different strangers), and there’s just no way she can let perfectly crafted Negronis go to waste. Really, she’s left with no choice but to stay and savor her prized cocktails.

At least two men–and one woman–have taken up the courage to approach her by the bar, and Wanda only has to show them the ring she still wears on her left hand for them to leave her alone with a polite apology.

On her own (and despite you being unaware of it) she wants the world to know she’s still yours.

Heaving a deep sigh, Wanda finishes her drink. One down, three to go. She’s already swimming in a pleasant buzz, and when her eyes drift to the center of the dance floor, she sees the last person she thought of seeing tonight.

It’s true what they say about experiencing everything around you slowing down to a stop when your life flashes through your eyes. It’s closest to how she’d describe seeing you in the flesh after a long stretch of only seeing you in her dreams. For a split second, she thinks she might be mistaken, but it’s definitely you when you start doing that dorky mannequin move that never fails to send her into fits of laughter. And that’s exactly what Wanda does; she half-laughs and half-sobs into her drink as you stiffly move your limbs, wearing a blissful smile of your own.

You seem…okay. Happy, even. Against her will, a deep sense of insecurity settles heavily on her chest.

And then, as if on cue, a blonde girl mirrors your dance moves, stepping into your space too close for Wanda’s liking. She looks much younger than you and Wanda are, and she recognizes the captivated look on her face. It’s the same look Wanda is giving you right now, the same look you used to give her everyday for more than ten years. Wanda helplessly watches you take her hand and spin her around goofily. And when the girl stops and loses her balance, she leans on your side for support. You let her, putting an arm around her shoulder as both of you continue to laugh at the silliness of it all.

Wanda feels her heart fall and crash into pieces. And the guilt of falling apart at seeing you happy like you deserve to be, comes to her in rolling waves.

She downs the rest of her drink–all three of them–and then weaves through the crowded club, bumping against sweaty bodies to find her way out.

Wanda ends up waiting for you from across the street. She wraps her jacket tighter around her body and fights off the cold by blowing her breath into her hands and rubbing them together. It does little to keep her warm, but she’s too enthralled to see your face again to care. She couldn’t simply walk away and wait for another opportunity like this to come.

Eventually–after nearly two hours of waiting–you come out of the building. You’re not accompanied by anyone, and you’re peering down at your phone. In the distance, she can clearly see how unfocused your movements are, which makes her wonder why you’re all by yourself.

She’s about to cross the empty street, when you unexpectedly look up and Wanda’s eyes lock with yours.

Her eyes glisten at the sight of you: somber eyes and flushed cheeks and the beginnings of a dazed smile at the corner of your lips. You were always a doe when there’s alcohol in your system, and Wanda could take advantage of that.

She could. But she won’t, even as you seem transfixed as she is.

Wanda tests the waters by taking a small step in your direction. You don’t move an inch from where you’re standing, but Wanda still holds her breath with each step. She keeps her eyes trained on your figure in case this is a hallucination–in case this is all just a result of standing for hours in the cold. But you gaze back at her, equally awestruck, and she thinks perhaps you’re also figuring out the same thing: if all of this is real.

Wanda takes another careful step while you shift your weight, working out the best way to keep your balance. And then another, until you’re within reach and she can hear your shallow breaths, can smell your scent mixed with your favorite perfume, can see your baby hairs sticking to your forehead. Until she can look into those eyes that always held kindness she doesn’t deserve.

Until finally, she’s standing right in front of you.

It’s been too long, the words keep repeating itself in her head.

Without thinking, Wanda stretches out her arm to cup your face, but–despite your semi-drunken state–you backpedal on instinct. Dispirited, she drops her hand to her side and chews on her lower lip to stop it from trembling. You must have sensed her dismay, because you force a smile, before her name falls from your lips.

“Wanda.”

There's no doubt that you can break her if you want to just by saying her name.

“Y/N,” she whispers your name back, greedily drinking you in an openly brazen manner.

“H-Hi…”

“You… uh,” you fumble with your sentence, trying to come up with something to say, before settling on what you really just wanted to know. “What are you doing here?”

Wanda actually considers lying, until she remembers that it’s what destroyed everything in the first place.

“I was at the same bar and I saw you. I thought about going home, but I couldn’t leave knowing you were just there.” she says.

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply as you assess how you feel about your ex-wife waiting for you outside and possibly catching a cold in the process. Inclined to blame it on the alcohol later, you don’t think you hate the idea that she stood there for hours just to talk to you. It’s so disparate from the time when you two were together, and you were often the one to wait.

But the truth is, it mostly just hurts. After all this time, it’s the same wound that just refuses to heal. Only now there’s more guilt on your part for ignoring her for months even though you know you shouldn’t feel bad for trying to move on the way you have to.

“It’s good to see you.” Wanda says after a beat. “I’ve missed y–”

Suddenly, your head is filled with images going down on a stranger at the gym. You shake your head harshly in a feeble attempt to shake off the memory.

Wanda is quick to assume that you don’t want to hear any semblance of how much she aches for you.

“I don’t feel–”

You feel violently sick, but you fail to say that out loud because the next second, you hear Wanda shriek in shock and you find yourself bent over your stomach, emptying its contents next to her stilettos. Wanda hovers above you as she gently pulls back your hair on one hand and rubs soothing circles on your back with the other.

Your throat burns and you grimace as you stagger back on your feet.

“Wanda, I’m so–”

“Shhh… you need to sober up,” Wanda explains softly. You don’t know you’ve been leaning onto her for support until you saw her left hand wrapped tightly around your arm.

Her left hand, that is anything but bare.

“Why are you still wearing it?” The question abruptly falls out of your mouth, losing the ability to filter the thoughts that you would rather stay in your head if you weren’t in such an inebriated state.

Wanda tenses up at the question, surprised that you still noticed.

“You know why.” she mumbles, struggling to keep you upright. She doesn’t say more, just silently directs you to the pavement where you both sit next to each other.

“Your hair. It’s too brown.” you speak in a slow drawl, still having enough cognitive function to change the topic. Wanda grimaces at the comment, despising her new hairdo more than usual.

For a while you and Wanda just sit there, basking in awkward silence.

“I need to call an Uber but my phone is dead.” you whisper into your knees, talking to no one in particular. You look and sound so small, so far from when you were dancing earlier. Wanda tries not to think that maybe she’s the reason for it. She worries at her lip, contemplating if she should call a ride for you. But with your current state, she’d be on the edge all night wondering if you got home safe. And knowing you probably won’t update her, she’s probably going to lose her mind over it.

Rising to her feet, Wanda makes a decision and offers a hand for you to take.

“Hey. I’ve got an idea.”

Wanda watches you dip a fry into a plain sundae and pop it into your mouth. Her cheeks redden a little when you moan in appreciation, eyes closed as if you were sampling a gourmet dish. She’d never understand your weird taste for putting together two of the things that should never be put together.

“Feel better?” she asks, disinterestedly picking at her nuggets.

“Much.” you say, licking your thumb with gusto. At this point, Wanda makes the right decision to look away before her thoughts become anything but innocent. You’re starting to recover from your intoxication, and she’s careful not to make you feel the slightest discomfort.

“How’s Sparky?” you ask all of a sudden, remembering Wanda’s text the other night about a visit to the vet.

Wanda takes a sip of her coffee, then says, “Something about a low platelet count. They just prescribed him some meds. He’s doing better, I think.”

“That’s good to hear.” you say.

Both of you fall back into another period of quiet.

Wanda’s head is sifting through the many topics that she had mentally filed in advance for this moment, but all she wants is to ask about you and your dance partner. The way she fell into you and the way you caught her with ease wasn’t at all friendly. The girl was obviously smitten, and Wanda can’t blame her. She can’t blame anyone but herself.

She peeks at you through her lashes, taking in your solemn expression as you suck on the plastic spoon.

Are you dating her?

Have you already slept together?

Has she been replaced?

Instead, Wanda says, “He misses you though”, because she couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing.

“I miss him too.” you say, and Wanda detects a hint of softness in your tone for the first time tonight.

It’s pathetic how she’s internally begging for you to say the same thing about her.

(How she’s envious of her own dog for it.)

“You should see him some time.” Wanda says, and at the skeptical look in your eye, she adds, “I don’t mean you visit him at my place. I can bring him to you. Maybe he can stay at yours for a weekend.”

You nod like you understand what she’s trying to do– what information she’s trying to get out of you. She expects you to dismiss the idea, but you surprise her by saying, “That can be arranged.”

“Great! We’ll–”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Right.”

The stillness and lack of words return for the third time. Not that Wanda is counting. But it doesn’t last as long as the other two, when you surprise her again by offering her what’s left of your sundae. “Want some?”

Wanda smiles at the gesture and scoops some with her own spoon. She misses the little things, like sharing food and killing time in a place as mundane as Mcdonald’s.

“Are you still using your old number?” Wanda asks, a subtle tremor in her voice.

You wince, aware of what she’s actually asking. You let it slip that your old number is active when you asked about Sparky.

“Not as much as my current one.”

“Oh, that explains it.”

Something about her reply rubs you off the wrong way.

“Explain what?”

Wanda is taken aback by your snippy tone. She used to be able to read you so easily, and now she can’t pinpoint exactly what set you off.

“What I mean is,” Wanda starts as gently as she could. “I’ve been trying to reach you for months. And you weren’t entertaining any of my attempts to communicate.”

“Well. Imagine that.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Wanda asks, voice thick with unshed tears. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

You heave a sigh, and Wanda frowns at that. In such a short time, she’s managed to exasperate you without even trying.

You pause to gather your thoughts, and then regard her with an apologetic look.

“Sorry…For being a bitch to you, not for avoiding you.” you say.

Wanda wipes a single tear that has escaped her eye with a finger. “You did say goodbye. I’m just too delusional to accept it.”

“You’re not.”

Wanda lets out a hollow chuckle in response.

“I’m delusional for thinking that I can erase you if I pretend long enough you don’t exist.” you say.

She knows it’s what you’ve been doing, but it still hurts for you to lay it out in the open.

“Did it work?” she asks, picking at the skin around her nail until it bleeds.

“No,” you answer truthfully. You don’t elaborate on it and give her the satisfaction of knowing that you’re still miserable without her.

For Wanda, those two letters give her first, real taste of hope since the night you confronted her about Vision. She knows better than to jump at the earliest sign that things may start turning around, but she couldn’t help herself from speaking the words that are most important for you to hear.

“I love you,” she feels every syllable of them in her tongue, and she cries further when you shake your head.

“We can think we’re in love, when we’re really just in pain.” you say to her with a mournful smile.

“I don’t believe that. Sometimes they go together, because it’s just how it is. Love’s supposed to hurt.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you. This is something we have to resolve individually, exclusive of each other.”

A look of resignation registers on Wanda’s face. It’s the most meaningful conversation you’ve had since separating, and she’ll willingly let go of the things you don’t want to discuss any further.

“What happens now?” she asks, placing the decision in your hands once again.

“I don’t know,” you say more with your shoulders than anything else. You steer the topic away from Wanda’s persevering feelings for you, and continue with, “I just want to enjoy this meal with… a friend.”

Wanda’s breath hitches at the apparent rejection.

“You want us to be friends?”

“Honestly, I don’t know yet.”

“Friends....” Wanda trails off. It’s better than nothing, right? Being friends again is a good start. Friends fall in love all the time, don't they?

“I can do ‘friends’.” she says with newfound determination.

“I need to think about it.” you say because in spite of everything, you’re never one to make promises you can’t keep.

Wanda nods meekly. You stare at each other for a few moments, having reached an impasse, before Wanda remembers a major detail in her life she hasn’t shared with you over a text.

“I have news. I’m opening a café in Queens on Monday. It’s, uh, where most of the alimony went.”

Your face considerably brightens, as if the past several minutes didn’t happen at all. Wanda falls in love with you just a little harder at your organic reaction to her accomplishment.

“That’s amazing, Wanda. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” she says and blushes at the way you look so proud of her.

“Wanda Maximoff, Cafe Owner.” you state her new title wistfully. “You make the best coffee though, so I’m not surprised by that…”

Wanda is no longer listening as a sense of déjà vu creeps underneath her skin, recalling how you had said something similar when she accepted a teaching position at Westview Institute.

Wanda Maximoff, Professor.

And when she got that job at the gallery.

Wanda Maximoff, Art Curator.

And after sharing your first kiss as wife and wife.

Wanda Maximoff, my wife.

Wanda comes to, just before you’re done speaking.

“…Is there anything you can’t do?” you say, good-naturedly.

Love you properly. Wanda broods over her regrets.

She gathers all her verve, only to come up with a paper-thin smile. “You forget I’m a terrible dancer.”

You laugh. “Oh, yeah, that.”

“And I’m also terrible at self-control because,” Wanda admits before she loses the courage for what she’s about to say next. “Because I want to invite you to come to my opening.”

The laughter dies in your throat but the corner of your lips stay upturned.

“I haven’t even gotten my head around ‘friends’ yet.” you remind her softly. “But… I’ll make sure to drop by.”

Wanda exhales in relief. At least she knows when she’ll get to see you again.

“Now, about that Uber?” you say.

“I got it.”

Today’s forecast promised clear, blue skies–and yet, the feeling of dread wouldn’t leave Wanda.

She’s never been a fan of boats (and all sorts of transportation for bodies of water), but she couldn’t come up with any other meeting spot where she wouldn’t accidentally run into you. It’s ironic because for weeks, she’s scoured the places you’d normally be for a chance encounter.

Not this time.

Not when she’s with this person.

Wanda boarded the ferry from Astoria, and it made a quick stop in Roosevelt where Vision was waiting to board the same vessel.

“Thanks for meeting me.” he says as he approaches Wanda who’s standing in the rear viewing deck. The amount of people onboard and the noises of the drafty wind should give them both enough privacy. Wanda doesn’t look up to acknowledge him. She merely continues to observe how the water churns and foams as the ferry picks up speed to leave its dock.

“Threatening to put Y/N in jail if I don’t, didn’t exactly leave me a choice.” Wanda says after a long time.

“You didn’t leave me a choice either. It’s the only way you’d see me,” he argues, and not for the first time, Wanda sees him for what he really is; a mere school boy whom she dragged into her bed, and indirectly scarred for life. “Plus, you know I wouldn’t do that to her. Not because she doesn’t deserve it, but because I made a promise to you.”

Wanda finally forces herself to look at him. His appearance isn’t that of a healthy person. His gaunt cheeks clearly signifies how much weight he’s lost. There’s an ugly scar that runs from the left side of where his hairline starts, all the way down to his nape. And because of the wound, his previously vibrant blonde is all gone, leaving a dull, sandy color of a shaved head.

“What do you want, Vision?” Wanda whispers, feeling more sorry for him than anything.

“You.” Vision states obviously. “I know you’re no longer married.”

“I told you it’s over,” Wanda says mutely. “Back when I was still married. Nothing has changed.”

“When this thing between us started, you knew the worst that could happen. You took the risk. That can’t be for nothing.” Vision’s impassioned plea makes her want to throw up. Wanda wants to deny each of his points, but she’d only be fooling herself.

She did know that there’s a chance you’d discover the affair on your own, and yet she did it anyway. And that’s something she’ll never forgive herself for.

Wanda studies Vision for a moment. She can’t fathom how she ever made the mistake of using him to fill a gap that she couldn’t put a name to–a gap that is deeper and larger in the aftermath of her extramarital affair.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for doing this to you. I’m the worst thing to happen to you and Y/N. I’m sorry for this,” Wanda allows herself to lightly trace the wound on his head as a gesture of sympathy. “Don’t blame her, please. I put her through unimaginable pain for her to have done this.”

Wanda allows him to remove her hand from his face and clasps them in his. It’s the one last thing she can do for him.

“You’re so beautiful.” Vision murmurs, trying to keep his emotions at bay. “I don’t mind having my skull smashed a thousand times if it means I could have you all over again.”

Wanda gasps and promptly backs away, effectively freeing her hand from Vision’s hold.

“Don’t say that. You could’ve died!”

Vision smirks and Wanda sees a flash of arrogance he held when he was still her student.

“It’s not so different from what you’re doing to me right now.” he says, and Wanda resists the urge to purse her lips.

“You don’t want me, Vision. You’re young and you have so much to offer–”

“–so much potential, so much capable of great things. Yes, Wanda, I know because you made me see it. You believed in me when no one else would. You saved me from being… worthless.” Vision slides down to the deck, leaning against the railing. He groans in pain, massaging his temples, as if rubbing it hard enough would make all of his problems go away.

Wanda crouches beside him, and then says, “I didn’t save you. I used you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Vision keeps his eyes closed in an effort to avoid the tears threatening to spill. “Are you… are you back together?”

“No.”

A flicker of hope flashes in his eyes. It glows brighter than the sun as he asks, “Did you ever love me?”

Wanda dares to meet his gaze, and there’s no hesitation in the way she says, “No.”

Vision swallows hard and firms his jaw; a showcase of blind resolution that Wanda doesn’t know how to extinguish.

“I don’t believe you.”

Wanda says nothing. She merely stands up and puts more distance between them.

“You don’t fuck someone like you’ve fucked me and not have feelings.” Vision insists, clinging to the memories of intimately knowing the woman in front of him.

It’s then that Wanda loses her patience.

“You’re a kid,” Wanda snaps, her fingers tightening around the metal rod she’s holding onto. “People lie all the time: with their words, their actions, their bodies. You’re naive to assume you know anything just because you had the best fuck of your life.”

Vision is drawing heavy breaths the second she’s done speaking, as if the weight of Wanda’s words were enough to sink him to the bottom of the sea, desperate for air. Wanda, on the other hand, is equally shocked and simultaneously disgusted at her cruelty towards someone who’s begging for love–begging like she is for yours. What she did to you warranted a punishment that’s ten times greater than he had gotten, and yet you never spoke ill of her, never tried to hurt her as sharply as she did Vision.

Vision–this charming, brilliant, handsome young man who didn’t do anything wrong but succumbed to his boyish desires. Who she just maimed with her words.

The ferry arrives in Long Island. People start gathering their belongings before they head towards the exit. Wanda glances at her wristwatch. She’s late for her first staff session with Agatha.

“Vis,” Wanda croaks. “I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t. I just can’t, okay? She’s everything to me.”

Vision is quiet, gazing at the sea with a faraway expression.

“It’s more than presumptuous of me to ask you this, but I’m going to ask anyway: forgive Y/N. Please don’t come after her for what happened. I’ll… I’ll pay for the damages.”

Vision lets out a humorless laugh, and then, without looking at her, says, “Just go, Ms. Maximoff.”

Monday

It’s nine-thirty in the evening, and Wanda ushers out the last of the customers to grace her opening day.

You didn’t show up.

“Thank you so much, please come again!” she brightly exclaims with just a hint of tiredness from being all over the place for hours. It wasn’t a blockbuster where the lines would reach the next block, but it didn’t fall flat either. Her pastries were all sold out, and she hadn’t expected the need to place orders to her suppliers so soon.

For all that, as she flips the door sign from ‘Hi, We’re Open’ to ‘Sorry, We’re Closed’, the rush of today’s triumphs also leaves her.

And then she sits alone in one of the barstools facing the window and patiently waits.

The gap widens some more.

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