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supernovafics · 3 years ago

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𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑

pairing: andy barber x fem!reader

summary: in which the night was supposed to be special. however, it seems as if something is always going wrong. on this specific night, you and andy have convinced yourselves that everything will finally go according to plan, but it isn’t long until things go awry. you’re not ready to call it quits on it just yet, though.

warnings: defending jacob au (no mentions of laurie or jacob), fluff, slight angst, explicit language

word count: 2.3k words

author’s note: first andy imagine! hope you guys enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Whatever excuse you’re about to say, save it,” You said when you answered Andy’s call, and it connected to your car’s Bluetooth. “We are going to this restaurant, Barber. We’ve rescheduled so many times that I’m pretty sure at least two of the hostesses know my number by heart at this point.”

Your statement was a thousand percent true, and you were actually surprised that the restaurant hadn’t blocked your number and banned both you and Andy from coming yet because of how much you had called to reschedule. The last time was only three days ago when you and Andy were completely exhausted from the days you had at work and couldn’t bear to do anything more than deliver a pizza to your home and eat it in bed. The number of crumbs that you noticed in the bed in the morning was horrible, but overall it was worth it.

This night was different, though, at least it was supposed to be. That morning before you headed to the environmental law firm you worked at and Andy went to the DA’s office, you said that you would be done earlier than usual because you would only be doing the beginning preparations for a new case you had. Andy told you that he would be done at his office by seven, giving you both enough time to get to your eight o’clock reservation at the restaurant.

When you left your office not even fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t received any calls from Andy, you actually believed that things were finally going to go exactly how you both planned it. But, of course, you could only get but so lucky.

“I’m really sorry, honey,” Andy told you, and you could hear how sincere those words were. “This Jefferson case has been kicking my ass these past couple of days, and I can just tell I’m finally close to a breakthrough with it.”

You didn’t want to smile; you were supposed to feel at least a little bit mad that this dinner was once again on its way to getting canceled. But, you couldn’t muster up even a hint of a frown; instead, you genuinely felt happy for Andy. You didn’t know much about the case, but you did know how much of a pain it had been for him thus far, so you knew that you couldn’t make him stop working on it right then when things were finally about to turn around. Especially because you knew that if the tables were turned, he wouldn’t make you stop, and you wouldn’t want him to.

These heavily work-oriented sides of the both of you were what caused you two to meet in the first place. You were both in the local bar that pretty much all of the lawyers in Boston would frequent, celebrating wins on your recent cases. You chalked it up to the alcohol running through your veins and the pure happiness you were feeling, because that case was such a big win for you, as the reason why you so easily fell for Andy that night. Because you had always sworn to yourself that you would never get romantically involved with another lawyer. But Andy was different.

“How much longer do you need?” You asked him, already thinking of ways that you could rearrange things so that maybe, hopefully, the night wouldn’t be a total flop.

It was quiet on Andy’s end for a moment, and you could tell that he was really thinking about his response. “No more than an hour. I promise.”

You glanced at the time displayed in your car; 7:14 pm. “Okay, I’ll call the restaurant and see if they can push our eight o’clock reservation to nine. And I’m on my way to your office now, so I can make sure that your hour is actually an hour.”

Most of the time, actually all of the time, an hour was never really an hour; it was always, always more. And you knew that for a fact because you were guilty of it too. Your respective workaholic natures were something that you both simultaneously loved and hated about each other.

“I love you,” Andy’s voice was soft and comforting.

Although those three words were pretty much second nature to hear after seven years of knowing Andy and five years of marriage, they never, ever failed to make your heart warm.

“Love you too,” You said and smiled to no one but yourself. “I should be there in twenty.”

• • •

The drive to Andy’s office was shorter than expected, which you were surprised about. However, you were unsurprised to only see Andy’s car in the parking lot when you pulled in; you swore that no one at that office worked harder than he did.

“Hi,” You said as you lightly rapped your knuckles against the open door of Andy’s office to grab his attention. His gaze was solely focused on his computer, and his eyebrows were knit together in a concentrated look that you had always found endearing.

When his blue eyes pulled away from his computer and landed on you, a smile found its way on his face. “Hi.”

You walked over to him, and he stood up from his desk, opening his arms which you wasted no time going into. As you wrapped your arms around Andy, the flooding sense of comfort that you felt made you sigh in contentment. Being in his arms always felt like being home.

“The reservation has been changed to nine,” You said, your words slightly muffled due to the way your face was pressed into his chest, but Andy still heard you.

“I’ll be done soon,” He told you, his voice getting lost in your hair.

When you pulled away from the embrace– it was reluctant at first, but then you remembered that there were actually things that needed to get done– you went to sit at the chair that was on the other side of the desk, shrugging your jacket off and placing it on the back of the chair. You nodded your head at Andy’s previous words, knowing that the definition of “soon” that you two had become accustomed to was different than what most people perceived it as.

As Andy went back to working on the case and you mindlessly watched him, a sudden wave of tiredness washed over you. Although your own day at work hadn’t been too chaotic, it was still pretty exhausting. A small yawn escaped your lips, and your eyes settled on the small-sized couch in the corner.

Your gaze was still trained on the grey couch when you heard the sound of a drawer opening, and when you looked at Andy, you saw that he was holding out a folded-up throw blanket for you to take. You grabbed it, and the familiar forest green color and softness stood out to you; it was the one you would usually keep in you guys’ living room.

“When did you start keeping this here?” You were already letting the blanket unfold and wrapping it around yourself.

“After the last time you came here and slept on the couch, and my suit jacket was horrible at keeping you warm.”

You smiled at the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. “Goddamnit, I love you.”

“And I love you,” Andy smiled back. “Now go take a quick nap, and I’ll wake you up in fifty minutes when I’m done with this, and we can finally make it to the reservation.”

You easily found comfort on the couch as you had done a few times before when you decided to join Andy during his late work nights. The couch was weirdly cozy, and you never knew if it was because of how tired you were that made it feel so nice or if it genuinely felt that way. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep.

• • •

“Hey,” A soft voice slowly pulled you from the unconscious state you were in. “Honey, wake up.”

You mumbled a slight protest, pulling the blanket draped over you higher so that it shielded your face. Then, you remembered where you were.

You pulled the blanket back down, and when you opened your eyes, you saw Andy’s face; he was kneeling down next to you.

“What time is it?”

He evaded the question and instead said, “I’m sorry.”

“Andy,” You sighed as you sat up from the couch. You felt around for your phone and grabbed it, almost immediately checking the time; 10:03 pm. “Andy.”

“I fucked up,” His voice was quiet, and you pulled your eyes away from your phone and looked at him.

“What happened?” You asked as you tried to rub the remaining sleepiness out of your eyes. Even though you had apparently taken an almost two-hour nap, you still felt extremely tired.

“It was eight, and I wasn’t finished with what I needed for the case, but at that point, I didn’t even care and just wanted to go to dinner with you,” Andy took a seat down next to you on the small couch as he began to launch into his explanation. You watched him with intent eyes. “But, then I saw you sleeping, and you looked so peaceful and tired, and I didn’t wanna wake you. So, I kept working, and I was gonna wake you by eight-thirty, but the time got away from me, and the next thing I knew, it was nine.”

You didn’t say anything in response at first. Instead, you leaned back against the couch, closing your eyes and once again pulling the blanket over your head because there was nothing else you really wanted to do.

“I’m sorry. I know that you really wanted to go to the restaurant tonight.”

You finally decided to say something. “It’s okay.”

You felt the blanket shift, and you opened your eyes to see Andy coming underneath it and pulling some over him– luckily, it was long enough– so that the two of you were cocooned inside of it. “It’s not. You deserve to be mad.”

You considered his words and knew he was right, but you weren’t mad. Honestly, if you were a thousand percent truthful with yourself, you didn’t give a fuck about the dinner and the restaurant. More so, you cared about what it represented, or at least what your mind had warped it into representing.

It had been so long since you and Andy had spent a night together that was solely romantic and didn’t involve the two of you lounging about in your home eating takeout or being completely exhausted from work. You had desperately wanted something that resembled how it used to be between you two before things became so domesticated. For reasons you couldn’t decipher, you wanted a glimpse back into the beginning, almost honeymoon-like, stages of your relationship with him. And it seemed as if it was something that was entirely out of reach at this point.

“But, the night’s not a complete bust.” Andy’s words pulled you out of your scattered thoughts. However, they did nothing but confuse you.

Before you could ask him what he meant by his statement, he pulled off the blanket that was draped over you both, and it was then that you noticed the set up of Chinese food takeout on Andy’s desk. The food was plated nicely on disposable plates that you were sure were from the office’s break room, and there was even a lit candle in the middle of the desk. You noticed that the candle was the one you had gotten Andy for Christmas with the sole purpose of him having it in his office; apparently, the scent was supposed to be very calming.

Looking at the setup made you finally fully realize that the restaurant and dinner did not matter. In fact, this was far better than being in a fancy restaurant surrounded by other people and trying new food that you probably wouldn’t like anyway. This was much more romantic, and you loved every aspect of it.

It made you feel slightly frustrated at yourself that you had been making such a big deal out of it all in the first place. It wasn’t the restaurant that would make you feel reminded of the early aspects of your relationship. It was simply being with Andy that would, and always did, make you feel that way and more.

You did not know why you were on the verge of tears, but you did know that they were nothing but joyous. You looked over at Andy and noticed that he was staring at you so that he could gauge your reaction to everything. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “This is great. So great. Fuck, I can barely even form words right now.”

A breath of a laugh fell from your lips, and when you pulled back from the embrace, you placed a kiss on his cheek, his beard grazing your chin in a way that you had always loved.

“I’m glad and relieved,” Andy said as the two of you made your way over to his desk. “It’s definitely not high-end restaurant quality, but it is from our favorite place on Bleeker Street.”

You settled in your chair, your mouth watering at the food in front of you. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until then. “Maybe we’re not meant to go to fancy restaurants anymore. We’re just takeout people now. And I think I’m okay with that.”

Andy’s lips upturned in a small smile. “Me too.”

“Now tell me everything about this godforsaken case,” You said and then took a bite from your egg roll. You always enjoyed hearing about his cases; it was a contrast from the work that you did that you always found refreshing, although most of the cases were more bleak if anything.

As Andy launched into an in-depth telling about what the case was about and the issues arising with it, you looked at him adoringly and listened intently as you both ate your food.

There was no grand dinner, but everything was still romantic, actually even more so. To you and him both, it was still a night to remember.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts<3

#andy barber imagine #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x oc #andy barber x wife reader #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst

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fandom-strumpet · 4 years ago

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Game Night Confession- Part 1

Summary: It’s Game Night at the Salvatore boarding house and after a few drinks and games they start the game 7 Minutes in Heaven. It’s not what you think, the bottle lands on Elena and Y/N.

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Word Count: 1,769

It’s Game Night at the Salvatore boarding house, the crew is there, including Rebekah. She had been on her best behavior lately so was ‘allowed’ to come but she in reality she crashed the party and no one had the energy to make her leave. Damon went down to the cellar and brought out one of his bourbon’s and started pouring it into glasses with ice. The night started off with Twister but the more you all drank, the more difficult it became and you all agreed to move onto the next game. Caroline pulled out Cards Against Humanity and finally the game ended when Stefan won with 6 black cards.

“I know what game to play next!” Rebekah squealed, “7 Minutes in Heaven!”

Damon groaned and tossed his head back to take a shot but it was obvious he was interested as well.

Elena spins first, with a hopeful look that it might land on Stefan. Unfortunately, the bottle landed on you.

“Ooh” Rebekah squirms in excitement.

You give a small huff. Elena shares the ‘Oh well.’ look with you as you both head to the closet.

Hollering back you say, “Remember the rules! No vamp hearing to listen in!”

A chorus of yes’ and agreement sound back. Shutting the heavy oak door with a thud, Elena turns and clicks the little light bulb on. You and Elena both stood awkwardly in silence for a moment.

Whispering, you ask Elena, “How about we play a different version of the game?”

“What would that be?” Elena tilted her head and squinted curiously.

“We both tell each other a deep and dark secret. We’ll be sworn to secrecy-”

“What happens in the closet, stays in the closet.” Elena finishes with a coy smile. “Alright, I’ll go first,” she takes a deep breath in, “I kissed Katherine.”

Your jaw drops open and you fail to come up with an immediate response resulting in an awkward silence.

Elena speaks fast and continues, “Well, I mean, actually I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me just so she could bite my lip and get some blood.”

“Bu- whu- uh-” You stuttter out.

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell Stefan, it would be too weird... OKAY! Your turn!”

“Um well, okaaay.” You shake your head in disbelief of what you had just heard. Letting out a shaky breath you feel butterflies in your stomach and a warm feeling that wasn’t there a moment ago. Its time someone knows anyway. “My deepest, darkest secret is that-” you pause to bite your lip,”I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Malachai Parker...” Your heart froze, looking into Elena’s eyes for a response.

“You are absolutely crazy!”

“Elena, remember you promised not to tell anyone.”

“Y/N, I promise I won’t tell anyone. But- really? Kai?!”

“I know, I know. It’s eating me up inside though. I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell him.” she stated.

“What and let everyone know I’m in love with Senor Psychopath?!” you started to raise your voice.

“Shhhh.” Elena hushed.

You sighed and then felt a cold wash over you. “Besides, he would never like me back.”

“Y/N.” Elena grabbed your shoulders and forced your eyes to meet hers. “Just tell him.”

“ONE MINUTE LADIES!” You could hear Damon snickering.

You shrug off Elena’s grip, “Guess we better make some noise.” You smiled half-heartedly.

“Yep.” Elena grinned, her eyes lighting up with mischief. “Ow! My hair!” she yelled and you stifled a laugh.

You hit your fist against the closet wall in response. “Oooooohhh.” you moan. Elena hits the wall but a little too hard and it sends the coat clothing rod falling. Laughter erupts from the both of you as you fall to the floor in a tangled mess. Stefan opens the closet door and you roll out giggling with messy hair.

“Enjoy your 7 Minutes in Heaven ladies?” Stefan cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

In the Living Room

The great oak door shut but the girls remained quiet. Getting bored, Damon poured himself another drink. Kai strutted into the living room, shaking himself like a wet dog after walking out in the rain.

“Really Kai? This is leather.” Caroline rolled her eyes.

“It’s seen worse Caroline, relax.” Damon scoffed.

“Mmmmm so what do you got to eat?” Kai makes his way to the kitchen rubbing his hands together. He pulls out a bag of pork rinds from under the sink. “Hope you weren’t going to eat these or anything.”

“Nooooo. Go ahead and eat whatever Kai.” Stefan glared.

“Alright then.” Kai plops himself down onto the couch by Rebekah. “So what game are you guys playing?”

“7 Minutes in Heaven.” Rebekah winked.

“Y/N and Elena are in there right now.” Bonnie stated with a chuckle.

“Now I gotta hear this.”

“Kai! No!” Caroline yelled. “There’s no vamp hearing in this game.”

“Well I’m not playing am I?” Kai grinned.

Caroline glared daggers at Kai and then looked to Stefan for help. “He’s got a point Care, he’s not playing so he can technically listen in.”

“You are unbelievable.” she rolled her eyes and fell backwards into the couch. Bonnie grinned, it was always amusing to see Caroline get worked up over the smaller things.

“What are they doing?” Damon asked lazily, “It’s too quiet.”

“They’re doing confessions.” Kai pursed his lips.

“Kai, you can’t tell us what they’re saying.”

“Bonnie is right.” Caroline nodded with raised eyebrows.

“I for one would love to know though Kai.” Damon patted Kai on the back. Kai delivered a devilish smile.

“Elena just confessed something juicy but it isn’t a surprise to me. Now for Y/N...” Kai froze. The color drained from his face upon hearing you say, “I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Malachai Parker.” He stood up fast and almost bolted out of the house. The front door slammed shut at his exit.

“Well he disappeared fast.” Rebekah raised her eyebrows and Damon shrugged, looking back down into his glass.

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

The next day after classes, you met up with Elena at The Grill. The thud of a backpack makes you look up from your notebook.

“Hey!”

“Hey, how’s it going?” Elena smiled and sat down across from you.

“Oh, you know. It’s going. I’m so glad we could meet up for food and studying though. It was a great idea, thanks Elena.”

Elena clears her throat and sneaks a glance to the door. “No problem, Y/N. Anything to help a friend.”

“First though- *you giggled* we need to order drinks and food.”

Elena waved down the new blonde waitress so she could take your order. It didn’t take long for the both of you to decide on what to get. The Grill had the best strawberry lemonades and mozzarella sticks. The door gave it’s usual ding, and it drew your attention out of an age old habit. It was him. Malachai Parker, the most handsome and hot being on the face of the Earth. Your heart skipped a beat involuntarily and Elena didn’t miss it. She looked down into her drink quickly to hide the smirk that appeared on her face. She whirls the straw around in her strawberry lemonade, a drink both of you always got together. It was an all time favorite and the Grill served it the best.

“I- uh- yeah sorry. What were you saying? I lost focus for a second..”

She leaned forward to take a sip before starting. “You know, I’ll never understand how you could love Kai. BUT I will admit that he is a better person when he’s around you. He’s not as ‘psycho Kai’.”

“Elena,” you hissed, “You promised not to say anything to anyone.”

“And I’m not- I’m only talking about it to you. Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone about what happened in the closet.”

You sit back and cross your arms in the motion of fine. You nod your head and motion for her to continue.

“I can see it in you too, Y/N. How much you love him, how your heart races and your eyes light up. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before but- you and Kai would actually be really cute as a couple.”

Your heart leapt into your throat when Kai turned slightly to look around and caught your eye. He gave a little smile and wave. Damon turned to see who he was waving to and winked at Elena.

“Hey Damon! Kai! Want to join us?” Elena yelled and you groaned inwardly as the guys stood up to join you in the booth.

“How’s it going ladies?” Damon smiled cheesily.

“Good, me and Y/N were just talking about-”

“Homework.” you interrupted quickly, unsure if she was going to say something to reveal your secret. Elena gave you a smirk and took another sip of her drink. You looked down to see your half-gone lemonade while they talked about something random. It was so hard to focus when the amazing man you wanted to caress and love and hold tight was sitting merely six inches from you and it felt like he was getting closer? No- that’s not possible, just your imagination. Why do I feel so hot all of a sudden? You grabbed your left wrist under the table out of habit to make yourself stop squirming and try to focus. Kai cast his eyes to you every now and then , looking for your reaction to the funny jokes. He was acting like a normal friend. You could act like a normal friend- right?

“You know what, Damon and I actually have a thing to go do downtown-”

“We do?” Elena nudged him hard, “We were supposed to go see some new artwork and stuff. Come on, let’s go!”

As they slid out of the booth, Elena gave you a wink and a small wave to Kai.

“Sooooo um, hi.”

“Hey.” His smile was so enchanting it was hard to keep yourself focused on something other than his lips. He turned away from you and started digging into the mozzarella sticks and sauce. You always thought it was so cute and weird how Kai ate. He was something else entirely. You grinned to yourself and started to join him. There was a comfortable silence as you ate, when the sticks were gone he licked his fingers with a pop and you felt your stomach tighten at the sight. Looking down at his drink he muttered, “Irrevocably. That’s a big word.” Then continued to seduce the straw with his tongue until it entered his mouth. @1-800-khaleesii @rome5683 @tawaii

#kai parker fanfiction #kai parker x reader #kai parker imagine #kai parker

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mickeyhenrysgf · 4 years ago

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all yours

Summary: You and Bucky break up unexpectedly but the two of you are still not over each other.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: smut, Jealous!Bucky, degrading language, spankings, unprotected sex

He hated it. Hated every bit it. He was yours. You were his.. Not until the two of you ended things abruptly, a few weeks ago.

It was movie night at the tower. While you couldn’t stand to look at Bucky, you didn’t want to ignore your friends. So, here you were cuddled up on Steve’s lap as everyone settled to their preferred seats.

You could feel Steve was tense under you. Why? Well, Bucky was giving him murder eyes from across the room.

One wrong move and it was over for Steve.

“Doll, are you sure about all of this?” Steve questioned sweetly, his hands carefully above the blankets and away from you skin.

What the hell was Steve even thinking Bucky thought to himself. Bucky’s hands gripped the seat, his eyes never leaving you. His jaw clenched anytime Steve’s fingertips grazed your skin. He must’ve looked crazy to the team, but frankly he didn’t care. He was jealous.

You roll your eyes. “Come on Stevie! Don’t tell me you’re scared of Bucky. He’d never hurt you.”

“Well... when it comes to you... I mean he loves—“ you caught him off. Your fingers going to his lips. You shut your eyes for a moment, knowing what Steve was going to say. Moments from 7 months ago flashed across your mind.

“I do care about you sweetheart, but you have to understand, they need me. I’m not going to just leave my job for you, that’s ridiculous—“ Bucky stopped immediately. He went too far. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that. But, it was too late, the deed had been done.

You laughed sarcastically hearing his final words which pushed you over the edge.

“No, I-I just stop. He broke up with me remember?” Steve sighed heavily as he listened to you and nodded, trying to get more comfortable in his seat.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Your arms wrapped around Steve’s body, as your head rested on his chest. Steve moved around in his seat but you didn’t mind. Little did you know he was secretly communicating with Bucky.

“Get off of her now” Bucky mouthed from across the room.

“I can’t—“

“Yes, you can” Bucky began to stand up from his seat. Before you could understand what was going on, Bucky’s voice startled you, your head shooting up from Steve’s chest.

“I’d never thought you stoop so low and flirt with my best friend”

“Excuse me!”

“Oh, you heard me loud and clear. Now, get up. We need to talk” Bucky whispered harshly, looking down in disgust with the way you were wrapped around Steve. “Y/N, we both know that I’ll throw you over my shoulder... so take your pick.”

You sighed in defeat. Removing yourself from Steve and stood up, you could’ve sworn you heard Bucky sigh in relief.

“I’m sorry-“ Steve mouthed and looked at you with an apologetic look.

You followed Bucky, waiting for the inevitable. More crying and yelling at Bucky but good thing there was soundproof walls thanks to Tony, you thought sarcastically.

“What the hell was that, Y/N?” He spat through his teeth before slamming the door close with his metal arm.

You scoffed, settling yourself down on the edge of his bed. You looked around his room. The familiar scent of him intoxicating you. He didn’t change a thing. Everything in his room had stayed the same since the break up.

“Why do you fuckin’ care Bucky? Huh? You left me!” Your spat right back at him, your words fueled with anger.

“You know you’re not allowed to talk me like that, little girl” he growled bending down to reach your eye level. Your breath hitched lightly as Bucky’s hand grabbed your jaw. “And I didn’t leave you...”

“Oh, is that the game you want to play now?” you rolled you eyes trying to turn your face from his impending glare but Bucky’s strong hold on your jaw made you stay in place. You weren’t scared of Bucky.

“Strip”

“What?”

“I’m not asking twice. I’m gotta remind you who this pussy belongs to” His words caught you off guard. Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave you as you started to peel off your clothes. You hated the fact that you couldn’t deny his commands.

“That’s my good girl... maybe you’ll learn that the only man you’re allowed to sit on is me.” he glowered crawling onto the bed and hovering over you. His thumb stroking your cheek and finding their way to your bottom lip. “You’d actually think I’d leave you” he mumbled against your lips.

“Baby, you’re mine” he said with no doubt as he removed his shirt but his wounds caught you off guard.

There was new scratches, scars, and even stitches. “Bucky, what happened?” Your hands going to trace his wounds but he grabbed your hands and kissed them before pulling away.

“Work.” Thats all he wanted you to know as his lips pressed against your neck and trailed down the valley of your breasts. Your hips voluntary bucking against his jeans.

“I missed you...” You couldn’t understand Bucky’s intentions. He was being soft but you knew he angry. Each kiss made you moan and want him more than ever. You wanted things back to how it used to be.

“I missed you more, baby girl. But, I have to punish you. You know that” You swallowed thickly and nodded. His hands running down your bare thighs, before spreading your legs nice and wide.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re so wet” his fingers running up and down your sleek folds, you shivered and moaned at his actions. “Is this for me or Steve?” He questioned as he flipped you over and spread you on his lap.

Your breath hitching as you knew exactly what was going to happen. His cold, metal hand soothing your cheeks.

“Only for you...”

“Count for me, or we start all over” He teases before smacking your right ass cheek. You yelped in pain, your teeth sinking down on your bottom lip. “One...” you mumbled in shame.

“That’s a good girl...” he chuckled darkly as he continued to slap your ass alternating between his hands. Each one sending you over the edge, and making Bucky harder by the end of it. Your face filled with wet tears from the pain and pleasure. You just wanted Bucky inside you, better yet, you just wanted him back in your life. But, like he said, he never left. He’d never leave you.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, baby” he wiped your tears away with kisses and stroked your cheek gently. “You want me, huh? Gunna be a good girl and take my cock—“ he mocked pulling his belt off with his jeans & boxers, throwing them across the room. His cock springing up effortlessly against his stomach. Fuck, he was big. You haven’t had him in months, you almost forgot how big he was. He pulled you with him across the bed, his body hovering over yours.

“What’s my pretty girl, thinking- thinking about my cock?” He smirked, his angry, swollen tip running against your folds as his thumb swirled around your clit. You bucked your hips against him, your nails sinking into his biceps.

“We haven’t... well— it’s big and— will it still f-“

“Fit?” He completed the words for you and chuckles. “Baby, You were made for me. Of course, it still fits..” His hands began to squeeze your breasts heavily as he gave you a large hickey on your neck.

“Need you—“ you whimpered heavily and with your words Bucky sunk into you with ease. The two of you moaning in unison. Your legs wrapping around his torso, as your head falls against the pillows. God, you were so tight Bucky thought to himself. It felt painful almost but as Bucky stayed in place, the more you wanted it.

“Move”

“Shit, taking me so well-“ Bucky groaned as he started to move, his thrusts starting to pick up with speed. “We’re perfect for each other...” he said between thrusts. You mewled with each thrust, his cock pushing all the way until you could see the bludge on your bottom half. His thumb going back to flick your clit with each thrust. The overwhelming pleasure was clouding your thoughts.

“Baby... don’t stop” he smirked heavily hearing your moans and pleas, his thrusts going at a sporadic pace with the way your walls were clenching around him.

“Beg for me, princess. Be a good girl” his lips nipping your jaw and then down to your breasts as his cock swelled and twitched.

“Please, cum in me, Bucky...!”

“Who’s pussy is this, huh—?” He slapped your ass heavily again, the marks from before flaring up and you winced in pain. His hand wrapping around your throat but enough for you to speak.

“It’s all yours, Bucky!” You choked heavily. “That’s what I thought” he smirked, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders to get an even deeper angle inside you.

“Cum with me, baby... gunna fuckin lose it any minute” Bucky was right because in seconds your eyes rolled back as the immense pleasure washed over your body. Your body arching into him. Before you could even recover, Bucky was pumping in loads of white ropes within you too. He groaned, falling on top of you, his head in the crook of your neck, as he sucked on the skin. His hands following the shape of your body as he snuggled you closer to him. As you layed on the bed, glistening in sweat and cum, you tried to wrap around what just happened.

Was Bucky going to wake up and leave you again? You thought to yourself and the feelings of pleasure, and even happiness soon faded away. You started to cry and then you began to cry some more from the embarrassment of it all.

Bucky could feel it before you even started. The way you didn’t wrap you arms around him after sex. Or the kiss he’d always get on his lips after. He knew something was wrong but once he heard your sniffles beneath him, he understood everything. He hated to see his princess upset.

“Baby, you know I never meant to hurt you. I was selfish and stupid. I should’ve apologized sooner...instead I was an idiot who broke things off” He sighed heavily, rolling the two of you, so now you were laying on top of him. He stroked your hair and cupped your cheeks.

“You’re my girl, forever. I’m never leaving you— you hear me? Please don’t cry” he stroked your tears away and you smiled softly. Your smile warming him inside. His embrace giving you reassurance. He was a fool for the way he acted but he would never be a fool again, that’s for damn sure. You were his.

#yes this is a repost from yesterday #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine

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fiveisnumber1 · 4 years ago

Text

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 2860

Warnings: I’m sorry.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

_________________________

Pt 10 - Time Moves On (With Or Without You)

In the Hargreeves household, the day started out like any other one, with breakfast. With the ring of a bell, the uniformed children all filed in one line into the dining room and made their way to their seats. Quietly standing behind their chairs with their hands behind their backs they waited in silence for their father to arrive. Once he entered the room he stood behind his seat before commanding,

"Sit."

With that word the children pulled out their seats and sat at the table to eat, each of them quietly doing their own things. Luther and Allison exchanged small smiles to each other across the table, Diego secretly scratched a knife into the armrest of his chair, Klaus fiddled with some special paper under the table, Ben read a book by Anton Chekov and Vanya quietly ate her meal. There was one child who was having trouble keeping quiet on this day and that was Five. Although he had already done so much with his powers during missions and practice sessions he wanted to do more. He knew he could do more. Five wanted to time travel and it ate him up inside that his father wouldn't allow him. Instead of eating he stared down his father from the opposite end of the table. Anger and frustration building up inside him. When his anger boiled over he grabbed his knife and stabbed it into the table. The loud sound caused everyone to look at him.

"Number Five?" Reginald questioned

"I have a question." Five stated with contempt in his voice

The other children looked at their brother with concern and shock in their eyes.

"Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during meal times, you are interrupting Herr Carlson." Reginald replies

Unhappy with his father's response Five forcefully pushes his plate forward before saying,

"I want to time travel."

"No," Reginald says

"But I'm ready!" Five explains sitting up from his chair "I've been practicing my spacial jumps just like you said."

Five then jumps from his spot at the table to right next to his father's seat.

"See?" Five comments aggressively

"A spacial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn." Reginald explains

With his hands balled up in his pockets, he cocked his head to the side and angrily said,

"No, I don't get it,"

"Hence the reason you're not ready," Reginald replies

From down the table, Five can see Vanya shake her head no as if to tell him to stop pushing the issue.

"I'm not afraid." Five retorts to his father

"Fear isn't the issue. The effects it might have on your body, even on your mind are far too unpredictable. Now I forbid you to talk about this anymore." Reginald commands

Five couldn't believe what his father was saying. Ridiculous how he didn't believe that Five could do it. Five was going to time travel and was going to prove that old angry man wrong. Turning on his heel he runs away from the table leaving his father, Grace, and his siblings behind.

"Number Five. You can't leave the table you haven't been excused! Come back here!" Reginald yells

Five didn't care what the old man had to say though. All he cared about was proving he was ready to time travel. He ran out the front door and through the gates of the house in which he lived. Angrily walking down the street he was determined to jump through time. The one thing he didn't expect was you latching on to him. You had seen Five leave his house from out your living room window. You quickly called out to your mom telling her you were heading out before teleporting your molecules over to your friend and grabbing on to him. With a flash of blue, he had jumped through time and brought you along with him. You didn't notice though because you were too busy trying to get him attention.

"Five!" You called out as he walked for a little bit taking in the surroundings

"Not ready my ass." Five mumbles to himself

With another time jump, the two of you were in a winter scene.

"Five!" You called again

Five had heard you this time and stopped. Turning around he saw you holding onto him. You let go and took a step back.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Five yells

"I saw you leave your house from my window and you looked upset so I wanted to make sure you were okay." You reply

"I'm fine." Five states

"You don't seem fine is there anything I can do?" You question concern evident in your tone

"You can go home." He answers

"But Five-" You start but are cut off

"You wouldn't fucking get it (Y/N)! Just leave me the hell alone!" Five yells

Before you can say anything he turns on his heel and jumps again leaving you standing there alone.

"Well screw you too I guess!" You yell at the spot where he just was

Turning around you make your way back to your house. Looking around you see the snow around you. You could've sworn there was no snow when you left and even if you just didn't notice it you wondered how you couldn't with the amount of snow on the ground. Shaking your head you make the walk back home wondering what could've gotten into your best friend. When you make it back to your house the door is locked. You were confused, your mom never leaves the door locked when you tell her you're going out. You start to knock on the door but when you get no response you start to bang on it and yell out,

"Mom? I'm home!"

When you get no response you try again banging and calling louder,

"MOM! I'M HOME! IT'S COLD OUTSIDE LET ME IN!"

You were about to call again when you hear a voice behind you say,

"Whacha doing kid?"

When you turn around you see a garbage man putting trash in the back of the garbage truck for the houses around yours.

"I'm calling for my mom to let me in. My family lives here," you explain

"Yeah don't we all wish our family could live in that house." He replies with a scoff

"What? No, I do live here." You reply

"Yeah, and I'm the king of England. Nobody has lived in that house for eight years." The man replies

"What do you mean eight years, it's 2002." You state

"We're you banging on that door with your head? It's 2013." The man states "The family that lived there's kid went missing 11 years ago. They stayed in the house for three years but just up and left when they couldn't deal with the grief. Rumor has it they went off the grid and can't be found."

You look at him confused and he says,

"Whatever. It's not my business."

He then gets on the back of the truck and you can faintly hear him say,

"Weird kid."

You turn back around to look at the door. That man had to be crazy, you had only left a few minutes ago, there was no way it was 2013. Phasing inside the door the room is dark but you call out to your parents again,

"Mom! Dad! I'm back home."

You get no response. You make your way over to the light switch to try and get some light in the but they don't work. Maybe there's a power outage from the snow? You then open the living room curtains but when the light from outside shows in there's nothing there. The TV, the couches, the coffee table, nothing. The room was empty.

"Mom? Where did the furniture go?" You call out again

All you heard was silence. You made the way around the rest of your house. Emptiness was everywhere. Running upstairs you went into your bedroom. Everything was there like it was when you had left that day. Bed, toys, clothes, everything still in its place. Maybe your parents were just redoing the whole house. You made your way to your parent's bedroom you started yelling,

"Mom! Dad! Please tell me you're in there!"

You were about to bang on the door with your fists but with one hit the door slowly swung open. There was nothing here. Their bed was gone, their clothes were gone, your parents were gone.

"No, this can't be real..."

Your heart started to race a little faster. Where could they have gone? You only left a few minutes ago. You needed answers and if there was anyone who could explain what was going on it was one of the Hargreeves. They had to know what had happened. Without even a second thought you transported yourself from your parent's bedroom to the foyer of the Hargreeves house. In a panic, you started shouting the names of the Hargreeves kids,

"Ben! Diego! Allison! Vanya! Klaus! Luther! Five! Anyone?"

Frantically you looked around the empty house when you heard a voice behind you say,

"Excuse me, can I help you."

You recognized that sweet soft voice. Turning around you saw Grace standing there. She looked shocked.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" She asks

"Of course it's me! Who else would I be?" You question

Grace slowly makes her way over to you. Gently cupping your face she looks at you and says in awe,

"You look the exact same as when I last saw you."

"Well of course! You only saw me yesterday. This last hour has been so crazy. First I chased after Five and he told me to leave him alone, and then I went home and no one answered and some garbage man told me how nobody lives in my house and my house is empty and according to the garbage man, it's 2013. Ridiculous right? Where are the kids I need to ask them some questions."

"Oh no, sweetie..." She says with a sympathetic look in her eyes

Grace doesn't say anything else she just looks at you sadly. Your heart dropped. This couldn't be real.

"Grace please where are the kids?" You pleaded tears starting to form in your eyes

"Well- they uh- they're not here anymore." She replies softly

"No! That can't be true! None of this can be true!" You shout before running off

"(Y/N)!" Grace calls but it's too late because you had already run off

There was no way that they weren't here. You ran to the library, typically Ben or Vanya would be there but when you got there you found nothing. Diego to Klaus was usually in the kitchen but nobody was there either. Running towards the bedrooms you opened every door looking for your friends. You checked in the courtyard, the dining room, everywhere. Tears leaving a path of where you had been. Each one of them was empty, abandoned as if no one had lived there. You ran back downstairs to check the parlor but when you got in there it was empty as well. All that was there was a painting of your best friend hanging above the fireplace. You turned your head and saw Grace standing there silently.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N)" she whispered

Your heart raced faster. You couldn't believe it. You didn't want to believe it. You turned your head back to look at the painting of your friend. The realization of your situation had started to set in and your body started to shake. You collapsed to your knees unable to support the weight of your body anymore. It felt as if you had just been punched in the gut and all of your breath was taken away. The tears started to fall faster from your eyes as you screamed,

"NO!"

Your voice was filled with grief as you let out painful cries of immense sorrow. You wrapped your arms around yourself to stop your shaking but it was no use. You were barely able to breathe as you screamed your pain into the empty silence of the house. There was no other sound except for you and at that moment you knew that you were alone. Your family was gone, your friends were gone, the person who mattered most to you was gone. The pieces of your life had fallen apart and you didn't know how to get them back.

At the same moment when you were coming to the realization of your new existence so was Five. After he had told you to leave him alone he had jumped once more through time. He looked around him and saw nothing but fire and destruction. With fear coursing through his veins he turned back around and ran as fast as he could towards the Umbrella Academy. When he arrived at the destroyed remnants of the building he called out into the rubble,

"Vanya! Ben! Dad!"

He received no response from inside the building so he turned around and shouted,

"Anyone!"

All that he could hear was the crackling of flames around him. This wasn't where he was supposed to be, he needed to get home. Five immediately tried using his powers to go back in time.

"C'mon" he begged of his power

But there was nothing he could do. Realizing it was too late and he was stuck he turned back to look at the remains of what was once him home. Collapsing to his knees the feeling of sadness overwhelmed him. There was nothing left. Slowly he regained his strength to stand and made his way around the house. Finding an area that wasn't consumed by flames, he carefully started to explore. Out of the rubble, he saw a hand sticking out holding an eye. Curiously he walks over to the hand and takes the eye out of it. He examines the eye before moving to see the person there. It was a man. He then looks to his left and looks out amongst the rubble of the building. Running over to another man he spotted he roughly tries to shake them but it is useless as they don't move. He then passes a female person before heading over to another man. He stares at the figure and sees the marking on his wrist, an umbrella in a circle. These weren't just people, these were his siblings. He could feel himself getting choked up as he stood there amongst their lifeless bodies. They were his family and they were all gone. Before he could fully acknowledge the sight he heard a faint gasping coming from further back. Running towards it he sees another figure impaled on some metal rebar. He makes his way over but when he sees who it truly is his heart sinks.

"(Y/N)!" He calls out rushing to your side

Five kneels next to you and takes in the sight of you. You were older but not as old as his siblings. It must've been because you took those jumps through time with him.

"(Y/N)" He says softly

Slowly you turn your head to him. You couldn't tell if you were imagining things but there was Five, your best friend, right in front of you. His blue eyes were full of sorrow.

"Five? Are you my angel here to take me to the light?"

"No, I'm here I'm real." He says tears forming in his eyes

He looks at the metal going through you. He had to get you out of here. He needed to.

"(Y/N) it's gonna be okay I'm going to get you out of here. You're going to be alright!" He says choking up

Five frantically starts looking for anything to stop your bleeding and help keep you alive.

"Five." You lightly call out

"Yes." He says turning his attention back to you

"The book." You say looking towards your hand caught under some rubble

Quickly Five removes the rubble and grabs what you were asking for. It was the diary you had gotten for your 13th birthday. Surprisingly it was undamaged compared to the world around him. Gently he brings to book to you.

"Here." He says

"Keep it." You reply weakly pushing it back towards him

Five places the book in the ground and turns back to you. Using what last bits of your strength you have, you lift your hand to the small boy's face and place your hand on his cheek. Five uses one of his hands to hold yours against his face. You can feel some of the tears that had fallen from his eyes on your hand.

"Are you still mad at me?" You ask faintly

"No, never. I could never stay mad at you." He replies his voice choking up more

"Good..." you answer quietly

You wrap your hand around your locket and then lay your head back and close your eyes. The smallest of smiles on your face as you let out a breath. Five watches waiting for your chest to rise and fall again but it doesn't. Grabbing your shoulders he starts to shake you.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N) wake up! Please I needed you here! I need you with me! Please!" Five cries out

It was too late, you were gone. Holding what he could of your lifeless body he lets all the tears flow from his eyes. His painful cries of sorrow echoing throughout the empty landscape. He had lost you and was completely alone. And so in the same exact place, in two different times, you and five dealt with the same harsh truth. Everything you loved was gone and life would never be the same.

Taglist: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @eddiomyspaghettio @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind @vicassa @2cuteforyourlies @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @n1ghtsh4d3-67

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emilia3546 · 4 years ago

Text

Shadowsinger Part 9 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

*****

Gwyn was grinning at him as she swung the door open, and crossed to the piano. She perched on the edge of the seat, letting Azriel sit more in front of the piano itself. Still, she was right next to him, and he almost leapt out of his skin when she covered his hands with her own, guiding him towards the keys as she explained the basics. She laughed at his surprise and he relaxed immediately, a shadow flitting out unbidden to explore the piano itself, before settling on Gwyn's shoulder. She grinned,

"You're the bravest one, aren't you?" Azriel could have sworn that the shadow puffed up at her words, and the others shot out to join it. "Do they really understand me?"

"Yes, and they listen to you, I've never seen them do that before, usually they're really shy, it took years for them to talk to me."

"They don't talk to me, or at least I don't understand them if they do."

"You would understand, it's like someone whispering in your ear, but its not a different language, the difficulty isn't learning to speak, but to listen." She nodded, and giggled when a shadow twirled down her arm, and skittered across the piano,

"Shoo, you're gonna get in the way," it made its back to her, hovering around her wrist as she demonstrated a simple series of notes for Azriel to copy. Even here, even dressed comfortably as she was she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen, her hair glimmered in the candlelight, and her eyes gleamed with joy at each note, especially when Azriel got it right. She was a better teacher than he was, easily, and he must have said as much because she snorted,

"I'm not sure piano lessons and self-defense are really comparable, Az. Besides, you taught us to fight," well, he'd helped Cassian teach them to fight, "And the silent stuff with me, piano's a way different skill, you teach it differently." True, and she had picked up everything he'd taught her remarkably quickly, although that was more a reflection on her than him, "Here, Az," she moved his hand slightly, "What are you thinking about?" You. He couldn't say that,

"Sorry, just," a shadow danced around, "Got distracted." Gwyn laughed,

Ask her to dinner

What? No.

Now.

Azriel sighed, and started at the sight of the clock, cauldron it was late,

"Have you seen the time? We should get to bed."

Dinner. Now.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, and almost fidgeted,

"Can I take you to dinner tomorrow? As a thank you. I know a lovely little restaurant on the Sidra, it's usually nice and quiet in the evenings." He was expecting her to say no, that she wasn't comfortable around people that much yet, but she nodded,

"Yeah, that's be lovely,"

"Six sound alright?" Gwyn nodded and grinned, she was still grinning when he left. The shadows leapt and spun around him, not calming down even when he tried to go to bed,

Does she think it's a date?

I don't know. Does it matter?

Yes. We like her. You should kiss her.

I'm not kissing her. She doesn't need another male like that. Not until she wants it.

She does want it.

Then let her make that step. I will not push her.

It's not pushing her if she wants you.

Stop it. If she makes that step then great, if not, I will not make it for her.

Azriel rolled over, and the shadows swirled slower,

Sorry. We know.

I know, you're just overexcited, we'll just wait and see how tomorrow night goes.

*****

Gwyn almost squealed when she closed the door, she could never sleep now, Azriel was taking her to dinner. She did a little circle on the spot and busied herself tidying the room until she fell exhausted into bed.

The next morning both Azriel and Cassian had been called to the River House, Nesta of course went with them, leaving Gwyn with the whole day to kill. She hadn't returned to the library in so long, just about managing to do the work Merrill sent up for her. But it was about time for her to return, at least for a bit. She carefully armed herself underneath her robe, and made her way back to the library, grinning at Clotho as she entered, who smiled back, but let her pass without stopping her.

Time wore on far too slowly for Gwyn's liking and she finished her work barely at lunchtime, making her way back up to the House without incident, and ended up exploring the rest of the House before deciding to practice her archery on her own. She kept at it for an hour, it was four o'clock, if she took a long bath she could go and start getting ready.

It didn't take two hours. She was out of the bath and dressed in one, and it took only twenty minutes to arrange her hair, half braided around her head, half falling down her back. She didn't bother with any cosmetics, she rarely did, only for formal evenings, this didn't count. The dress was loose, emerald-green, much shorter than the one she had worn to dinner before, but it matched the earrings Azriel had bought her. She'd never been one to go for daring necklines, but the back, well, there wasn't much to it, it dipped off her shoulders and plunged downwards, leaving the unbound portion of her hair to tumble down her back, swaying with each step she took. She stepped into a pair of white heels, and distracted herself by playing the piano until the knock on the door sounded.

Azriel had always been beautiful, but now, he was the most beautiful male she'd ever seen, High Lords includeddf. He wore a fairly simple, but elegant shirt, a black jacket over the top, with matching pants. He'd combed his hair, and his eyes were sparkling as he offered her a hand. He stilled when she opened the door, and Gwyn wasn't entirely sure he was breathing until she took his hand and led him to the nearest balcony,

"You look beautiful," he whispered right before scooping her up and diving into the night sky. Gwyn held back her squeal of delight at the sensation of falling, but it didn't stop,

"Az," she muttered, "Az, what are you doing?" She buried her face in his neck, squeezing him tighter as they fell, "Azriel!" She screamed, moments before his wings shot out, leaving them gliding effortlessly through the empty streets. Gwyn forced herself to lean back, and look him in the eyes, "You shit!" But she couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face, and Azriel chuckled at her false indignation,

"Oh, c'mon, I think you like a bit of adrenaline."

"Yeah, a bit. Not fear that I'm about to die because some idiot forgot how to fly." Azriel laughed at that, really laughed, and Gwyn smiled at the sound echoing around her, at the sight of his head tipped back, the wind now ruffling his hair, undoing all his work to tame it.

The restaurant was beautiful, and quiet as he'd promised, and he left her waiting just inside, shadows shielding her from view as he talked quietly to one of the waiters,

"Come on," he took her hand, leading her through to a garden at the back, right on the Sidra, the stars glittered above her head, and right in front of her, on the glassy surface of the river. The garden was all but empty, only one other table was occupied, all the way on the other side. "This okay?" Azriel muttered,

"Okay? Az, this is beautiful." She grinned, and turned back to him, her smile softening, "Thank you." No-one had ever done something like this for her before, she'd been nervous before coming out tonight, really nervous, but the moment she sat down, the moment everything else vanished, she calmed. In that moment nothing else mattered, just him.

*****

Gwyn was practically glowing in the moonlight, and Azriel hadn't missed the earrings, Neve was right, emeralds really suited her. She relaxed quickly once they sat down, smiling and laughing with every word they exchanged. His shadows refused to settle down, swirling around his feet and occasionally adding unhelpful comments. Gwyn mentioned how she loved the stars, how seeing them in the river was a new delight,

Tell her that her eyes shine like stars.

Tell her that she outshines them all.

Tell her that your love burns brighter than them all.

Azriel actually blinked at the last one,

Okay, whoa, stop now, that escalated way too quickly,

He just nodded, quickly pointing out his favorite constellations to Gwyn, and showed her a few she didn't know.

Shut up.

He hissed to the shadows, ignoring their offended comments, focusing instead on the way Gwyn's face lit up when she found a new constellation herself,

"Wait, where is it?" Azriel gently guided her chin up slightly,

"See it? Just there, the wing, and-"

"It's a pegasus!" She yelped, quickly covering her mouth as the other couple glanced over at them,

"Do you ever plan on telling me the deal with you three and pegasi?"

"That's between us and the House, Az."

"You know what, I don't think I want to know." Gwyn laughed and gazed back up at the pegasus, the stars shining in her eyes.

Gwyn was still smiling when he landed back on the balcony,

"Thank you, Az, tonight was wonderful, I'd hardly dared to think I could go outside, let alone eat at a restaurant a few months ago." He dipped his head, but smiled,

"A wonder what punching Cassian can do." Gwyn snorted,

"Satisfying as that is, it's not him that's helped me with that. Thank you." She fell silent for a moment, almost slipping away, but stepped back towards him and raised herself onto her tiptoes. Azriel held his breath as she brushed her lips against his and smiled softly at him before finally slipping away.

Every breath was a battle, every step was a battle, a battle not to follow her, not to show her exactly what a proper kiss was like. His heart was still pounding as he reached his bedroom, but he couldn't sleep, even the shadows seemed stunned into silence.

He got changed for bed. Gwyn. He washed his face. Gwyn's smile. He washed his face with cold water. Gwyn's laugh. He fluffed all the pillows. Gwyn's eyes. He sharpened the dagger under his pillow. Gwyn handing Cassian's ass to him a few days ago. He chuckled at the memory, at Cassian's shock as she tripped him, hungover and tired as he was. How Nesta had roared with laughter and congratulated her friend, leaving her mate on his ass to celebrate. How Gwyn had stared in shock as she realized she'd won. She was so beautiful.

He shook his head. Gwyn, Gwyn, Gwyn. Gods, he'd never get any sleep at this rate. Cassian's socks. Gwyn. Cassian's smelly socks. Gwyn's perfume. Illyria, camp lords. Gwyn at the top of Ramiel. He groaned and rolled sideways, burying his face in his pillow. He was absolutely fucked. This female would be the death of him. He was in such deep shit.

*****

Azriel didn't come to breakfast, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him last night after she'd kissed him either. Maybe he was avoiding her. She shouldn't have kissed him, maybe he hadn't meant to ask her to dinner as a date, oh shit. Not even Nesta and Cassian were here, true, they could be otherwise engaged, but not likely, training was soon, they wouldn't miss it. She finished eating, and thanked the House before heading up to find someone, perhaps they had simply overslept. She reached Nesta and Cassian's room first, and her breath was sucked out of her lungs at the sight before her. There was blood everywhere. The bed was half-collapsed, as if something, no, someone had been thrown into it, the window was broken, and, her heart almost stopped. There was a note nailed to the bedposts,

You took it too far, High Lord. You have seven days to restore our freedoms, or we kill them all.

There was no signature, and Gwyn almost dropped the note out of sheer terror, someone had been here, in the House, and had taken Nesta and Cassian, and was going to kill them all. All. Azriel. She sprinted for his room, holding back a sob at the clear signs of a fight, the shattered furniture, the blood spraying across the floor. They had come right next to her room, how had she not heard anything? She could have done something. This was all her fault. She couldn't hold back the tears as she stared aimlessly into Azriel's room, always so meticulously clean, ordered, now in complete disarray. Slowly her fear and sadness hardened, solidifying into a burning rage. She was getting him back, getting them all back. But she had no idea how would have sent the note, it was daytime, to get to the River House, to show the note to Rhysand, she would have to go through crowded streets, alone.

Gwyn took a deep breath at the top of the stairs, and started down, by the time she reached the bottom she was practically flying across the ground, and she hurtled out of the door, ignoring startled looks from everyone she passed. She ran and ran, faster than she ever had before, and by the time she reached the River House her muscles were burning, screaming at her to stop, but she couldn't, something inside her forced her to keep moving. She would do anything to save them, to save Azriel.

When she burst through the doors to the River House, a servant practically leapt out of her skin,

"Where is Rhysand?" She demanded, forgetting any politeness, and followed the servant's shaking finger pointing towards what looked to be a living room. When she shoved the door open, she was faced with not just Rhysand, but Feyre as well, and Mor. She held out the note, not caring that all three of them had frozen the moment she had entered the room,

"What are you doing here, Gwyn?" Mor asked her quietly, and she just forced the note into Rhysand's hand,

"They - Azriel - Cass - Nesta," she panted for breath, unable to form words, but from the horror etched across his face, Rhysand had figured it out. Gwyn sank onto a chair opposite him and Feyre, and focused on slowing her breathing,

"When did you find this?" Rhysand breathed,

"This morning," she managed, still struggling to fill her lungs, "Who could it be from?" She didn't bother with any formality, since this was court business, she probably should, but Rhysand didn't seem to notice, or care.

"Illyria. I've been sending Cassian and Azriel to inspect the camps each week, randomly, and forcing them to train the girls, and stop any wing-clipping." She knew that, Azriel had told her about the laws, "But who exactly would take it that far I can't be sure, there's a few potential candidates."

"You know where they are then?"

"No. They could be in any number of places, that is, if they're even at a camp at all." Gwyn was hardly breathing as she surveyed his face, "I'll come with you back up to the House, maybe there was some sort of sign that you didn't recognize." Gwyn nodded, still hardly registering what Rhysand had said, but she knew what to do now, she would be able to be of some help.

*****

It was dark. So, so dark. Azriel opened his eyes only for familiar images to flood his mind, he was underground, in a familiar dungeon. He tried to surge to his feet, but his legs wouldn't obey, and he collapsed back onto the floor face-first. His head was still spinning when a dark chuckle sounded through the darkness, and he shuffled backwards as he saw the male's cold face,

"Long time no see, little brother." He sneered,

"You are not my brother." Azriel snapped, glaring at the young lord, hatred bristling within him, but he still couldn't stand, not after whatever drug had been used against him. He carefully monitored his breathing, hiding any trace of fear, and stared him down, "What do you want?" He snarled,

"Your High Lord has been crushing our freedom for too long now, at least officially. But, your damned females worrying about their husbands are making everyone else too cowardly. Even the few camp lord who haven't found ways to cope with your new damned laws have mostly let it go. Since I won't see you on a battlefield, it's about time we had you back, you've been off pretending you're not just a bastard nobody for too long." The male stepped right up to the bars of the cell, "You are going to live the life that you were meant to, and the other bastard will die." Cassian. It took five centuries of training not to let any emotion show on his face, "And his mate. Pretty little thing, I think my men will enjoy spending some time with her before I kill her too." He hadn't mentioned Gwyn, perhaps they hadn't known she was there. He had to be sure.

"So you think that kidnapping us will get Rhys to let you treat females like dirt again?" He let out a hoarse laugh, "He knows that all three of us would rather die." No reaction.

"That's irrelevant, the question is would he let you die? I think not, Cauldron knows why, but he's rather attached to you isn't he? Besides, I don't give a shit about females, I do give a shit about the arrogant little bastard who thinks he can just walk away because he's an oh so special shadowsinger. You are no-one." He was right, Azriel was nothing, no-one, but he hid every emotion, glaring at the male. Azriel was still snarling when his brother disappeared again, leaving him alone in the shadows.

He pulled himself to a sitting position, breathing slowly to calm the rush in his head before heaving himself to his feet, he almost vomited at the pain in his leg, the blood seeping through a shoddy bandage, he took several deep breaths, and set his foot on the ground. Surely they wouldn't be stupid enough to keep him here, it was too obvious. Cassian and Nesta could be anywhere. He couldn't smell them over the damp in the dungeon, couldn't smell anything. He carefully stepped towards the bars, examining them for any weaknesses, any chance that he might break them. Nothing, they must have reinforced the bars to prepare, without his siphons he couldn't break them, not without killing himself in the process.

There was no way out. He couldn't bring himself to care, if this was his fate so be it, but Cassian, and Nesta, he could never let them be trapped here. He would find a way out, for them, just for them, and Gwyn. Gwyn, who had trusted him, shit she had kissed him, and he'd left her alone. He sank to the floor again, leaning against the wall, the cold stone leaching all the warmth out of him, but he didn't notice, not as the thought of Gwyn warmed him endlessly. Shadows swirled, he had to get back to her, he would not leave her alone, never again would she be alone. Azriel studied the bars again. He was getting out. He had to.

#fanfiction #fanfic #gwyn #gwyn acosf #azriel x gwyn #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of silver flames

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j-pankratz · 4 years ago

Text

The Slumber that Creeps to Me

Geraskefer. 7208 Words. Rated T. Jaskier pulls an extreme all-nighter (read: 60+ hours) to finish a paper he procrastinated on, and finds at the end of it that sleep does not come as easily as he’d hoped. Tags for: Sleep Deprivation, Self Destruction/Lack of Self Care, Hallucinations, Nightmares, Overstimulation, Hurt/Comfort, Whumping the Bard, very loving partners, and a happy ending. <3 AO3 link in the reblog!

As with most disasters spurned by his own cockiness, Jaskier felt as thought that all in all, the situation could have been worse.

The idea to have Geralt and Yennefer spend the spring holiday break at Oxenfurt was, in his defense, ingenious. His students weren’t around, the weather was gorgeous, they all had varying degrees of business in the city, and they could fuck each other senseless at any hour of the day. In a bed. A nice one, provided he was a legitimate professor, now. Well, visiting. Well, it was complicated. But they were his rooms, and that’s what mattered.

When Jaskier gotten the prestigious offer to write the season’s main article for the Continent’s most respected Bardic Journal, he’d just sort of figured he’d… fit it in, somewhere. He had seventeen months, which was plenty enough for him. Then he’d just work with the editors, and have a centerfold piece. It was an honor. He was excited about it! He’d meant to get to it sooner, but decided the summer before that he’d devote the winter to it. But… he’d… he’d been distracted. It wasn’t often the entire family gathered at Kaer Morhen. So, he thought, he’d do it later.

But the first few weeks after winter were, of course, spent with Geralt. And the week after that, a trip to the coast, where he’d played a festival and met up with Ciri, who was becoming an amateur critic herself. And then by pure, absolute happenstance, after 3 more weeks of travel he happened to end up at an inn that he definitely hadn’t heard Yennefer was staying at. So that more time gone. And then he’d arrived in Oxenfurt, and he’d really meant to get to work on it, but there was so much to prepare for! He wanted things to be right for them.

And then Yennefer and Geralt had actually arrived, and the idea of anything possibly being more important than their presence flew his mind.

And now, here he was. If he wanted to get it in on time (unfortunately, that wasn’t a suggestion in this case, more of an actual, terrifying requirement,) he’d need to submit it in… gods above, less than three days. 60 hours, if he was doing the math.

There was no word limit, nor a minimum. But, ever the maximalist, he knew it was going to be… long, if he was going to do it right. They’d edit it down, but it was the focal point of the journal, they’d been leading up to it for ages now. Ahh. Well. There was only one thing for it, he supposed.

“I’m working through the night on my paper!” He’d announced that morning, sitting straight up in bed, jostling his sleepy lovers. “No one bother me! I will be at the dining table until further notice!” He swung himself out of bed and made for the door.

“Pants,” his lovers chorused together.

“Right!” he'd said, and marched back into the room.

He’d pulled all-nighters in his youth. In fact, he couldn’t count the times he’d worked through the night, deposited a composition or essay on his professor’s desk with some polite conversation and maybe a wink, and then promptly fallen asleep during the lecture itself. Just a 15-minute power nap, really! Then he’d be back up and at it again, working through another night just to sleep through the weekend. He’d done it before, he could do it again.

Well, it’d been 25 years ago, but that didn’t change much, did it? He still felt spry, agile, hearty— hell, he’d spent the better part of the last twenty odd years chasing after a Witcher, and later an additional princess and mage— surely he should be in better health now!

This was completely accomplishable. Admittedly, he could have written this sooner… but he hadn’t, and here he was.

Geralt and Yennefer both set out early on different errands, leaving the bard to some peace and quiet. Relatively.

He spread his work and references out before him. 7 books, 4 pamphlets, his favorite quills, a hundred fresh pieces of parchments, his lute at his knee. “Alright,” he said aloud to his empty Oxenfurt apartment, “Just sit down and write the damn thing. Sitting part, definitely done. Writing next. Just… write.”

He stared at the page.

“No! No, no, do not be impossible about this. Just start the thing.”

The page stared back.

“Ah, blast,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. This was fine. Just… do the awful, disgusting part of beginning, and then he’d be off. The sooner he started, the sooner he’d finish, after all! He took a breath, and put his pen to paper.

Yennefer returned a few hours later, a book and small parcel in hand. Jaskier looked up to see her sweep through the room, a commanding presence, though she didn’t acknowledge him yet. A few waves of her hands and a pot of tea was put on to boil, her hair was put in a bun, and three mugs were floating down from a shelf.

“Lovely to see you too,” he smiled as Yennefer poked through the tea collection. He could practically hear her fond eye roll. She neatly plucked two from one box and looked back at him in question. “Ah… peppermint, if we’ve got it?” and she turned back to the cupboard grab it.

“Any progress?” She finally asked.

“A bit, actually!” Jaskier said cheerfully. It didn’t look like much, but he’d done half a page with almost no errors, and he’d made plenty of notes in the margins of the books he’d need later. It was better than he’d hoped it’d be going by this point, at least. He was kicking academia’s ass. Or, he would be.

The kettle whistled and Yennefer poured the tea, bobbing all three of the tea bags up and down as they steeped. He watched her lean against the counter, casual, relaxed, gorgeous, before realizing she was staring back at him. “Um! Yes, no, definitely good. Got a lot of… those words, you know, they are definitely here. Looking very sexy. The words! The writing is looking… very sexy, very curvy… letters. Sensuous words, you know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sensuous words.”

“Yeah, yes. Like… contemporaneous… and… iguana.”

“Iguana.” She let out a little huff of a laugh and something in Jaskier’s chest tightened and loosened in quick succession. And in a moment she was there, sliding him a large mug with the carving of a rather playful looking bear on one side, batting at a butterfly.

“Oh! My favorite. Thank you, thank you.”

“Mmm,” she said before waving a hand to cool down their tea a bit. She took a seat opposite him, scanning an eye over the table. “Think you’ll be done by tonight?”

Jaskier laughed. “Darling, I’ll be lucky to be done by tomorrow morning.”

“You’re planning to stay up all night, bard?”

“Unfortunately.” He took a sip. “Should be done by tomorrow afternoon, if I keep steady at it.”

“After tea, of course.”

“Of course.”

Yennefer stretched out a bit, kicking her feet onto Jaskier’s lap and rolling her neck. They sat there a moment, sipping, pausing, drinking in each other. There was something nice about taking a moment of stillness with someone just as frenetic as he was, someone who was usually just as itching for something to do, even if she went about it differently. The grace of choosing stillness, he thought, was not something to ignore.

Yennefer reached the end of her mug and tapped its ceramic walls lightly.

“What’s next for you?”

“I have to refresh my potion stock, so I’ll be at the market for supplies. You sure you don’t want to take a break and join?”

Rat’s ass. He fucking loved the Oxenfurt markets. “I’m afraid I can’t. Academia calls.”

“Who does it call for, exactly? What’s that I hear…” She cocked her head and listened intently. “Who is it calling for… is that… V… Val… Valdo?” Jaskier hefted her feet off of his lap in protest, and she laughed. He plucked his quill from its stopper, and went back to hovering over his paper. Introduction mostly accomplished, now he had to really lead in to his point, give some proper context. He flipped through a book beside him.

Yennefer rose smoothly from the table and went to move her mug to the sink. “When Geralt gets in, tell him I need toadflax and bluebells from him? Might as well put him to use.”

Jaskier flipped through the pages, thumbing through for a note he’d sworn he’d made ages ago, when he belatedly tried to register his mage’s words. He could have his fun, too.

“Blue…Yennefer, you want me to tell Geralt that you need blue balls from him?”

“Bells! Bells, you absolute child!” she said. “Honestly. Blue balls? Really, Jaskier?” He was giggling. “I don’t need to ask to give either of you blue balls.”

“Exactly, Yennefer, you provide that service for us anyway, free of charge!” A balled-up napkin hit him in the head and he laughed joyfully.

“I can’t stand you. I’m leaving, you’ll never see me again.”

Jaskier looked up through his grin and met her twinkling, happy eyes. “Tonight then?”

“Tonight,” she agreed, and left with a quick ruffle of his hair.

“Still working?” Geralt said as greeting later in the afternoon. The desk was neater than Jaskier expected it to be this far in, only a few books open, dog eared and marked in colored ink. He’d written a page and a half since Yennefer left, and it was good, it was, but he’d need to go back and make edits later. His long empty mug of tea sat far across him.

“Mm,” he agreed, continuing to write. “Ah, Yennefer came through earlier,” giving a gesture to the waiting mug of tea on the counter. Geralt made his way over to the mug, and gave it a small igni to warm it. He smiled fondly down at the drink—what a terribly lovely sight he was. Warm here, and safe. Couldn’t it be like this always? The three of them here, comfortable and happy? No, he supposed, but gods how he wanted it.

“She’s at the market now,” Jaskier continued, “wanted me to ask you about...” He lifted his pen and squinted. “Ah, toadflax and bluebells.” He looked up at Geralt, smiling. “Blue balls,” they said together, sporting matching shit-eating grins, Geralt’s albeit much smaller. “I made the same joke myself,” Jaskier added.

Geralt snorted. “How’d she take that?”

“Oh, as well as you’d hope. We’ll never see her again, of course.” He turned back to his work, reading over the last paragraph. He could feel Geralt approach to stand behind him, and while he’d normally shoo his witcher off, he was too deep in concentration to bother.

How long was too long to linger on the progression of oral storytelling to bardship? It’s not like he could ignore it, (Geralt’s hand came to grip his shoulder, a thumb rubbing against it tenderly) as it was a crucial tenant of the argument— but there was plenty to be said for assuming the literacy and foreknowledge of the reader. (He leaned in to get a closer look at Jaskier’s page, the soft warmth of the tea in his other hand bouncing off his chest) But this was to be in a journal often referenced by first years, and he knew how much he would have loved a paper that had everything all in one—

“How’s it going?” Geralt asked softly in his ear.

Jaskier waved a hand over the mess before him. “You know. It’s fine, I’m just not sure at what point I’m lingering on points to excess.”

“Mm,” Geralt hummed understandingly. “Tell the story. Trust your gut.” He gave Jaskier a nuzzle and light kiss against his cheek before taking up the empty mug off the table and walking off further into the apartment.

“I always do!” Jaskier called back. Mm, if only this were as simple as telling a story. Well…Oh—if he spent this paragraph referencing the progression it would end up taking up more room, be a run of the mill lead-in, but if he wrote the actual history as a short story itself, now there was an idea, he could make his point and give the context. Oh, fuck, brilliant—

“Back soon,” Geralt was saying as the front door slipped shut, but the bard was too lost in his work to do more than give a small nod of his head.

The sun was falling, making a graceful bow into the horizon. Warm light spread out over the streets of Oxenfurt like the last pushes of tide, ebbing, and flowing, and sinking back into night.

“Ah, fuck,” Jaskier muttered, crossing out a spelling error with a snarl.

His shoulders ached, and his lower back was going to be the death of him. He was on page 7. All he could see was the work ahead of him, winding off ad infinitum. If he didn’t pick up the pace, he might have to go 60 hours straight—he shivered. Not ideal. He took a breath, stood up and stretched a bit, his muscles groaning in thanks. A quick bathroom break later and he was sliding back into his chair, still warm, his papers grinning up at him, sardonic.

He’d take a meal break at 10 pages, he told himself.

He stood to stretch and his head swam. Well. Plenty of reason to stay seated, he supposed.

Geralt and Yennefer returned at 12 and a half pages. He turned his head in greeting, and when he looked back he got the first real look at the table in hours—it was a disaster, crumbled pieces of parchment, empty quills, and little notes strewn everywhere. Some books propped open, the pile of parchment looking more like a mountain slope, an empty glass from when he’d chugged water hours ago.

His loves were clearly a few drinks deep as they came through the door, and completely unmarred by the woes of academia. Bastards, honestly.

“Hi, hello, hope you had a good evening, I—”

“Come to bed,” Yennefer said, suddenly right behind him. Two small but firm hands came to his shoulders, rubbing deeply.

“Ah! Oh, fuck—oh, yes, darling, right there—”

Geralt came to his other side, tipping his head up for a kiss, which he moaned into. His witcher’s tongue was soft, pleading, tempting him—his mage’s hands pushing almost painfully against his aching muscles. He wanted to cry, it was so good. It was so different than the last… however many hours it had been that he had been sitting here. Geralt pulled away, and Yennefer’s hands came to rest as well.

“So?” Geralt asked, his voice deep and velvety. “Bed?”

“I…” gods, who had he become? “I can’t. I want to, I just—”

Yennefer placed a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s fine,” she said, and he knew it was, but he hated denying them something they all wanted. “Have you eaten?”

Jaskier frowned. “Fuck. Not really.”

Geralt sighed and went to the pantry. “You’re getting a sandwich,” he grumbled.

“Ooo, Geralt, dear heart, would you heat it up? Use some of your,” he wiggled his fingers “your witchery magic?”

Geralt turned and glared. “You’re getting a sandwich.”

“He’s so mean to me,” Jaskier muttered to Yennefer, “I can’t believe he’s so mean to me.”

His mage snorted a laugh into his hair. “You’re really staying up all night, then?” She waved a hand and the curtains around the room swept shut, and his lantern began to burn steadily.

“Looks like it,” he sighed. Geralt retuned a moment later, plated warm sandwich and glass of water in hand.

“Fuck. Thank you.” He took it and took a bite, suddenly ravenous. He looked up at both of them, staring down in fond amusement. “Fank—” he swallowed his mouthful of sandwich. “Thank you both, truly. I’ll be up a bit. If you need something, call, yes?”

They rolled their eyes. “He tells us to call if we need anything,” Yennefer muttered. “Don’t get into any trouble,” she said, and with a peck on the cheek from both of them, they disappeared into the bedroom.

He looked back at his work.

Okay. 12 ½ pages in. He could do this.

At 15 pages, he felt ravenous again, and made a second sandwich. Not as good as Geralt’s. Geralt’s sandwiches weren’t even that good, but they were made by Geralt, which added a certain kick, a novelty he adored.

He drank another glass of water and shook his head. Back to work.

At 17 pages, sometimes the world swam before him. He gripped the edge of the table. Fuck.

He was so tired. 23 pages. He kept writing.

It was terrible. The whole paper was a mess. Nothing made sense and people were going to laugh at him. 25 pages.

He heard a sound. Was that Geralt rising for the bathroom? Was it an intruder? Light crept in through the window. 27 pages.

There was a ringing in his ear. His writing was getting increasingly larger. 27 ½ pages.

Geralt gave him a soft nuzzle to the top of his head before padding through to the kitchen. Jaskier’s heart ached. His bones ached. Writing was hard but right then it felt impossible. 27 ¾ pages.

Geralt lingered, and Jaskier felt his nose twitch. He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for him to leave. He couldn’t have any distractions right now. He shut his eyes tight until he heard the bedroom door close once more.

Yennefer entered hours later, sweeping the curtains over with a flick of her hand. Bright light flooded the room, painting the desk in all its full, disgustingly messy glory. “Well—”

“Could you ask next time?!” Jaskier snapped. “Some of us need consistency to concentrate!”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow, and they stared at each other. Some part of him wanted to slap himself but the rest was just so irritated. Who’d she think she was, anyway?

After a moment, the mage turned and left with a flick of her hand to sweep the curtains shut again.

“Headed out,” Geralt said at 30 pages. “Contract.”

“Good,” Jaskier muttered. “I mean. Good that you’re—fuck. Whatever.”

Geralt stared. “You need rest. It’s been more than 24 hours.”

“I need to fucking finish.”

“Yen said—”

“I’m sure she did,” Jaskier muttered, driving his heels into his eyes. Gods, his eyes burned. Silence hung.

“She portaled out this morning.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Great. Love that. I’m a fucking disaster, thank you for the reminder, Geralt.” He waved toward the door. “Don’t you have a contract?”

He turned back to his papers, shifting around to look for page 11, and didn’t think about how long it took before Geralt left the apartment.

His hand was shaking but he was at 34 pages. He still had so much to say. Fuck. But he was in it now.

He scarfed down some soup that was mostly broth at some point, and he’d under-salted it, but it was something. His eyes kept going blurry; traitorous things.

The bear on his mug was plotting his downfall.

38 pages and Jaskier felt like the gods themselves had gifted him with the knowledge he now bestowed onto meager commoners. He was a genius.

At 43 pages, he had stopped to lay out the entire essay on the ground, so he could see it all. The words sometimes swam before him, and he had trouble remembering what he was meant to say next. Once, he looked up, confused as to where he was. And then, at 44 pages, the guilt of snapping at his dearest loves, the weight of this behemoth paper he wasn’t even sure he could finish, and his own self-doubt crept in and seized him up, leaving him breathless and in tears for… awhile. Everything hurt. He had to keep going.

At 48 pages, he saw a griffon fly through his window, and he named it Kalvin. He turned whatever color Jaskier wanted him to turn, which was very considerate of him. Kalvin was his only friend now, and with a little convincing, might become his editor, too.

At 55 pages his chest seized, and it was hard to breathe for a moment. He closed his eyes but—no, no, couldn’t do that. If he fell asleep now, he’d never finish in time. He tried to relax, got some water, leaned against the counter. Everything was a mess.

He sat back on the floor, his work around him. Keep going.

“I don’t think there’s anything about anything that I have to be doing right now. Kalvin, you’ve… you’ve got to understand, this could be my finest work! It’s good. It’s pretty good here in… in this part, here. In that other part it’s just okay, but that’s why you come in with your big claws and you’re gonna. Rip up the bad parts. Don’t rip up the good parts. Right? Yeah. Do you think they’ve forgotten about me by now?”

He looked down. 57 pages. Took a long blink.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “That’s fair.

He had to write two extra pages so that he could skirt around referencing Valdo Marx’s work as anything other than a contradictory point. Maybe it would have been fun to use his own writing against him but he didn’t want to give the satisfaction of being referenced positively in a centerfold piece.

He lost the essay.

“Fuck—oh, gods, where did—”

He turned around, looked down. Oh, there it was.

“Thank fuck.”

The curtains were still closed and the charmed lantern was still burning, but Jaskier knew it was night by the time he reached 63 pages and Geralt came in.

Jaskier looked up from his spot kneeling on the floor. Geralt looked fine. He was a little dirty. There were some gushy bits. Probably blood. He was tired. Or just mad. Maybe he hated Jaskier.

“You’re still—?!” Geralt asked, looking at Jaskier like he’d just said a griffon named Kalvin had flown in the window earlier and now they were friends.

“I met a griffon,” Jaskier heard himself say. Geralt stared. “We’re friends now.”

“…You need to fucking sleep.”

“No.” Jaskier went back to the margin he’d devoted to drawing circles in. “Sorry ‘bout earlier.”

Geralt sighed. He might have talked but Jaskier didn’t hear, just kept writing.

“How often has that been happening?” he heard Geralt ask.

“What happening?”

“Where you fall asleep for a moment.”

“I haven’t! Fallen asleep.”

“Fuck,” Geralt said. He looked very nice, except for the goop all over him. Well. Even that wasn’t so bad, when the underneath bits were Geralt. His Geralt. Looked so warm, so strong, so able to carry him.

“Later,” Jaskier replied, and went back to his words. The familiar pop of a portal sounded in the bedroom. Their eyes lingered on the direction it came from, but Yennefer didn’t open the door. They looked at each other, and then back at the door which remained very much shut. “She’s mad.”

“Yep.”

“At me.”

“Yep.”

There was a pause. “Are you covered in blood?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh.”

“Not mine.”

“That,” he said pointing to the Witcher, “is good.”

“Mmm.”

“Sticky though.”

“Definitely sticky.”

Yennefer came out of the doorway, and Jaskier blinked. When he opened his eyes again she was much closer than she’d been and was in the middle of talking. Magic, he assumed.

“—yourself very lucky, bard.”

“Yeahh,” he said. “Sorry. ‘Bout… Sorry.”

She huffed and crossed her arms. There was a look in her face. Eyes? And her mouth. It was hard to name. Words were hard, when they weren’t the words he desperately needed to write.

“—for a while,” Geralt was saying. “Jaskier. How close are you to finishing.”

“Soon!” Jaskier said. “Soon! Soon. Due… 1pm tomorrow. What time is it?”

“10pm.”

“Fuck. Psshhh. I can… I can do it.” He looked up at Yennefer. “Sorry. Really. I… I’m just tired,” he admitted. “Shouldn’t have snapped. Not fair to you.”

Yennefer stood there, arms folded, emanating some emotion Jaskier had lost the concept of around page 41. Geralt walked further into the apartment, into the bedroom. Oh right. Blood armor. Ick.

He went back to writing and tried to ignore the desire to cry again, and then suddenly Yennefer’s shoes were in his line of vision.

“Let me read it,” she said.

“Oh.”

They stared at one another. She had such a pretty face. He might have been smiling. She rolled her eyes and then came to sit next to him. She quickly found the first page and began.

Halfway through it, he spilled ink on the bottom half of page 64, and wept. Yennefer gave him an attempt at a comforting pat on the back.

Yennefer had read the pages and risen; “It’s good. You need edits, but it’s somehow decent. Good. Whatever. A little… loose, toward the end, though,” made herself a cup of tea, and entered the bedroom.

Either a few moments, or 20 minutes later, Geralt emerged.

“What are you at now?”

“69 pages.”

“Nice,” Geralt said.

“Ha. Yeahhh,” Jaskier agreed.

“That’s not what I—” Geralt sighed the sigh that meant his face was going all pinch-y. “Close to the end?”

“Mmm. What is the end, really?” Geralt made a different pinch-y face. “Soon.”

“Come to bed tonight, Jaskier.”

“I’ll try,” he said. He blinked, and Geralt was gone.

There are a lot of words in an essay that are very hard to spell.

Jaskier ate the rest of a loaf of bread.

For a while, he swore he walked the streets of Oxenfurt while still warm in his professorial housing.

Kalvin’s accent changed three times and at one point he was on fire.

85 pages.

Geralt woke first, as always; There he was! That was his love. So much of his heart.

With shaking hands, Jaskier had brought himself up to sit in his chair, and sat staring down at his work. He looked up at Geralt with a lopsided grin. “I did it,” he said weakly.

“Need help putting it together?”

The tears fell so quickly he didn’t realize it was happening. “Really?”

Geralt sighed softly and knelt down, organizing the papers.

Yennefer emerged a bit later—There she was! His love, a chunk of him was hers entirely. He smiled. “Look!”

“Mmm. And now you can sleep.”

“NO!” Jaskier cried and leapt to his feet, “No, no, now… now is presenting time. To… the editors. Not Kalvin. But I turn it in… and then sleep,”

He had a sudden burst of energy, and tried to step over Geralt and the papers, but fell into the table instead, before the Witcher steadied him from below.

“Ohhhh, thank you dear. It’s time for… presentation! Mm.” He leaned into Yennefer’s warmth at his side, though she did not wrap her arms around him as he’d hoped. “Help me pick out an outfit.”

He blinked. Yennefer was in front of him now, looking at him with a frown, her hands around his waist. Geralt’s hand was against his forehead. “No! Stop that! I’m fine. I’m fine! See me! Fine. It’s action time. Let’s go!” and he marched off to the bedroom.

The floor was suddenly very close to his face.

“Did I—”

“You fell on your face.”

“Have I—”

“You’ve asked three times now, yes.”

There should have been fanfare when he turned it in, but there was only the grateful smile of Edmond, the young new assistant, a firm handshake, and a promise he’d hear back from them very soon, for a quick summarization of their initial thoughts. Or, he’d used all those words, Jaskier forgot which order they’d come in.

The three returned to the apartment, and everything happened very slowly and so quickly he found it hard to keep track. There was definitely a bath drawn for him—gods, it had been days, hadn’t it— oh, fuck, he was gross, wasn’t he—a full meal, and a celebratory drink. He’d made a few good jokes, and all he could see were Geralt and Yennefer, smiling at him. An empty glass. A bar of soap. A long quill. A messy table. A pile of books and an empty mug. They deposited him on the bed for sleep, and left together.

Jaskier lay there, waiting for sleep to take him.

It did not.

He was so tired he could cry. He did, a few times. He couldn’t think straight. All of it, everything, hurt. His body ached. He tried to soothe himself down alone, rocking himself in the hopes it would work. But nothing.

What if he could never sleep again? What if he would always be awake, forever? What if this was how he died?! Oh gods, he didn’t want to die! He still had edits to approve!

Eventually, he could feel himself getting closer. He adjusted himself, lay on his back and took deep, measured breaths, kept his eyes closed but relaxed. Okay. Okay. Sleep.

He was falling, so violently and so fast that when he jolted awake, he forgot he’d been lying on a bed in the first place.

Fuck.

He tried again. It happened sometimes, it was fine. He’d be fine.

He tried breathing deeply once more, trying to let the distant scents of Yennefer and Geralt now embedded in his pillows overtake him.

A fear so powerful it gripped his heart and twisted, whispered to him, ‘this is what dying is, you’re going to die’ and he once again jolted awake. He threw his head back against the pillow and winced; even that hurt.

Fuck. Fuck.

He kept trying. Over, and over, he’d get so close to sleep and then right at the precipice, something would yank him out of it.

Once, he saw Yennefer falling off a cliff. Another time, he saw Geralt stabbed through the chest. At some point, he saw Ciri screaming, and his hands flew out to pull her close, only to find nothing there. Sometimes it was himself falling, and sometimes it was the world below him falling instead.

He’d really done it this time. Stayed awake so long, sleep had abandoned him entirely.

It felt like twelve years before Yennefer and Geralt returned, slipping into the room quietly. He sat up in bed, startling them both.

“Please,” he said quietly, “I can’t. I don’t know why I can’t I just—I can’t. My body won’t let me, I want to but I can’t—”

“How the hell—” Yennefer started, walking over to him with a palm out to check for a curse, maybe? It didn’t matter. He wrapped her hand in his and clutched it to himself, desperate for her. She was so warm. So alive.

“Fuck,” Geralt sighed, “It’s been nearly 70 hours already, Jaskier.”

“Let me just put him down with magic,” Yennefer started, but Geralt put a hand up.

“We can’t. It’s a temporary fix. if he can’t fall asleep on his own without magic, it’ll get harder and harder for him. We need to get him to fall asleep without it.” They looked down at him. What a disgrace he must look like, how pathetic he was. He turned his face away in abject shame. He couldn’t even fall asleep right.

While he looked away, Yennefer tore her hand from his as she and Geralt discarded their clothes into heaps beside the bed, crawled beneath the covers on either side of Jaskier. They hated him. They must. How could they not?

“It’s fine, you don’t—fuck, sorry—”

Geralt shrugged. “Don’t be. I know how bad it gets. It’s different for a Witcher, but no sleep is the whole reason we met Yennefer.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jaskier said softly.

“As I recall, the solution then was to have vigorous sex on the floor.” Yennefer ran a finger along Jaskier’s chest. “Sound appealing?”

“I—yes, Yennefer, it sounds appealing.” He fidgeted, tried to focus on the feeling of Yennefer’s delicate touch. He was oversensitive enough that it felt like fire, but nothing… stirred, and each word he spoke felt like he was pulling honey from his tongue. “I don’t… much as I’d like, I’m not sure I’d be... up for it right now.” Yennefer’s head fell against the pillow and she flattened her hand, ran the palm up his chest to rest above his heart. Pressed a kiss there.

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply, but they were looking at him, he could feel every inch of their gazes and it was all too much. He whined in agony. “I can’t do this. Fuck. I can’t, just put me out. We try it again tomorrow, I—”

“Jaskier. You can. Tell us what you need and we can help you,” Yennefer said, sweet but firm. And that was her, wasn’t it?

He couldn’t think. Wanted to. Wanted so much. Wanted to be asleep.

Jaskier curled up on his side, exhausted of being exhausted, when he felt Geralt slide up closer behind him. “Can I hold you?” he murmured into the bard’s shoulder. Jaskier nodded, and felt Geralt’s arm come around him and under his own arm, felt it slide up his chest and cross it protectively.

“Feel good?” Jaskier nodded, and then cracked his eyes open, met Yennefer’s, concern palpable.

He lifted one arm just slightly. “C’mere?” And she did, curled into his arms and around him, tucked her head under his, kissed the top of Geralt’s fingers. He held her close, and was held by the two in turn. Breathing, somehow, felt easier between them.

“Breathe, bard,” Yennefer urged him softly. Geralt buried his nose in Jaskier’s hair, took in a deep breath, and Jaskier tried to follow.

They breathed softly, all together, slow and safe. Soon, he was drifting into sweet oblivion.

‘You,’ Fear said, wrapped around his sternum, ‘will crumble, the moment you let go of wakefulness.’ It gripped him, and tugged him back to reality.

He jolted again. “Fuck, dammit, cock wringing—”

Yennefer pulled back to look at him worriedly. “Is that what’s been keeping you up?” she asked.

“It’s, I don’t know, something just pulls me back, I try to fight it but…”

“Mmm,” Geralt agreed. “Sleep starts. Happens sometimes.”

“The hell are sleep starts?”

“They’re… when you’re too on edge to sleep, or just haven’t in too long, brains… fizzle. Keep you awake. It’s a survival instinct—it makes you think you’ve got to stay awake to stay alive. Feels like falling? Or… a shock. Sometimes other things. Hallucinations.” Geralt pressed a kiss to the back of his head. “It’s scary. It’s meant to be. Your body thinks it’s fighting for its life.”

“I am never letting you doom yourself like this ever again,” Yennefer said, and while it was probably meant to come out angry, she just sounded worried.

Geralt hummed and agreement. “Try again, we’ve got you. We’re not letting go.” Jaskier took a breath. They had him. They had him.

Yennefer lifted a hand to Jaskier’s temple. “May I?” And he let her in, easier than breathing. She gave him Ciri laughing, wind chimes on the breeze, the soft roar of the coast. Geralt hugged him tight, ran his other hand through Jaskier’s hair, tried to keep the bard’s breathing aligned. Now, what had he ever done to earn these two?

Soon, sleep came to him again, and he could feel Yennefer ready to soothe anything that came for him in his mind, Geralt ready to defend against anything that dared hurt his resting body. The darkness crept in, and he felt peace.

Geralt was reaching for him, falling, bleeding, screaming.

“FUCK!”

“Shh,” the real Geralt hushed him. “We’ve got you.”

“Fuck, there’s got to be something else,” Yennefer groaned. “What’ve you tried so far?”

“I have tried… to fall asleep.”

Yennefer and Geralt both huffed small laughs. “No. Positions—”

“Only the good ones.”

“Meditating?” Geralt asked.

“Darling, I haven’t had a thought in my head in hours. This is meditation.”

“Drugs?” Yennefer asked.

“I will try the drugs!” Jaskier said with a drowsy cheerfulness, as Geralt replied “No drugs. No.”

“Ugh,” Jaskier groaned, and shifted to lie on his stomach. Oh. This was… better. He nestled into the pillows, and a soft contented sigh drifted from him.

“That feel better?” Geralt asked as he ran a hand up and down Jaskier’s back. “Mmm,” Jaskier replied. Yennefer’s hand joined Geralt over his chest. Oh, they were going to make him cry.

And then it was too much, too much feeling, like his brain couldn’t handle all the sensation, and he felt Yennefer come to pause, and a moment later, Geralt’s hand as well. ‘That better?’ Yennefer asked in his mind. Jaskier gave her the memory of his favorite hug with her, warm and happy as her legs wrapped around his waist, and his favorite with Geralt, crushing and firm and full of too many emotions to speak aloud.

“Could…” he said softly, “Just. Talk? Not to me. Just… to each other. Just wanna hear you.” He could almost hear their smiles, and felt as they settled in on the pillows beside him, arms and hands intertwining on his back. Yennefer’s head on his shoulder, the gentle planes of Geralt’s chest on his other side. “If you need us, Yennefer and I are here. We’ve got you. You’re safe.”

He nodded into the mattress, cool and soft below him.

“Goodnight, Jaskier.”

“G’night Yennefer.”

“Goodnight, Jaskier.”

"G’night, Geralt.”

He started to fade into oblivion, but stopped himself before he got too far. Not fear, not anxiety, a conscious stopping. Somewhere above him, Geralt was telling Yennefer about the contract from… sometime in the past few days, and Yennefer was telling her own story about some town gossip with a woman and her hens, which, it might have been a metaphor, but he’d basically forgotten what those were by now. He breathed deeply, felt their words flow through him, and when he felt brave enough, he let go, trusting they would catch him.

He could have sworn he heard wind chimes, somewhere.

The small amount of light filtering in through the curtains was golden when he awoke. His head both ached and felt light as a feather, his muscles screamed and cried but half of it was in relief. He gave a small stretch and yawned. “G’morning,” an amused Geralt said to him, lounging in a chair he’d brought beside the bed, reading a book. His legs were propped up on the bed beside the bard’s and Jaskier stretched to bump their toes together.

“What time…?”

“You slept 13 hours.”

“Fuck.”

“You probably need more.”

“Yeahhhh.”

“Feel alright?”

“Like a real human being,” he said. “Hungry, though.”

“Mmm.”

Yennefer slipped in the door, but, noticing Jaskier was awake, rose a hand. “May I?” she asked, voice dripping in sarcasm, gesturing to the curtains.

“You may,” Jaskier offered, covering his face with his hands. “Ohhhh, gods, how bad was I?”

“Genuinely awful,” Yennefer said, as Geralt was saying, “There’s been worse.”

“Normally I’d withhold this,” the mage said, withdrawing a small envelope from her pocket. “But, under the circumstances…” she cleared her throat.

“To one Julian Alfred Pankratz. We were extremely pleased to receive your manuscript yesterday afternoon. Our editors are will have their notes to you by the weekend, but we wanted to reach out and extend our most sincere compliments on your work. It is—oh, a flood of adjectives, I’m skipping these. Etcetera, etcetera, sucking your dick, etcetera alright, here—and meticulous in construction. We can tell,” Yennefer said, dragging out the final sentence, “you made good use of your year of writing time to complete the work.” Jaskier and Geralt by this point were holding back true howls of laughter.

“And won’t you believe it, there’s more. Ahem; we have a number of suggestions and questions already, but encourage you to get your well-deserved rest as we prepare our feedback. We are grateful to work with you, and thank you again for your stunning entry. There’s a postscript,” Yennefer added. “As a quick and personal note, we cannot have helped but notice the nature of your penmanship; we mean no offence, but would encourage you to see a doctor of the eye to fit you with some spectacles.”

“My—my penman…? What’d—” and Yennefer, who had clearly been waiting for this moment, brought out a rather crumpled piece of parchment with an ink stain at the bottom—ah, yes, the original page 64— and showed it to him. His eyes were… gods, they were aching, but he was clear minded enough now to see that each line had become at least twice it’s normal size. The lines were far from straight, dipping and bending toward the edge of the paper, the letters changed directions at random points, and a fair amount of the words were smudged so completely they were hard to make out.”

Jaskier stared in horror.

“They. Is that. Is that what it looked like? Really?”

“It’s worse than most of the ones that made it in,” Geralt said, carefully.

“Most?!”

“You drew pictures on one of them,” Yennefer said.

“Oh my god. They…they must…”

“Adore it, clearly,” Yennefer said, setting aside the paper. “It wasn’t worth the strain, and you’ve definitely firmly embarrassed yourself, but they’re either embarrassing themselves by fawning praise on you,” she said, sliding onto the bed, “Or you’re actually just… very knowledgeable and talented, even when addled by sleep deprivation.”

There was a pause, Jaskier soaking this in; it hadn’t been worth it, exactly, but it wasn’t all bad. In fact, it was quite good, and Yennefer was complimenting him outright, so, very good.

“Or both,” Geralt added.

“Definitely both,” Yennefer agreed.

Jaskier groaned. “You can’t be mean to me. You’re in my house and I am extremely tired, which means that you, by law, must kiss me and tell me nice things about myself.”

Geralt laughed, light and free, and Yennefer slunk slower down into the bed. “You get no kisses,” she said, “You get sleep and rest.” She grabbed a pillow from under her head and plopped it delicately onto Jaskier’s face.

“Boo,” Jaskier said, muffled beneath the thing. He closed his eyes. Geralt muttered something, and Yennefer gave a snort of laughter, and then there was silence.

“Are you two kissing up there?!”

More silence.

“UGH,” he groaned, and sunk into his soft, sweet mattress. Oh, beautiful mattress. How he adored it, how he adored his two loves on top of it. He listened to their kissing, soft, and sweet, and knew he’d join them soon. But it was so warm down here. Even as one of them removed the pillow, he could only bring himself to open his eyes for a moment, to see them both leaning to kiss his face gently, before returning to each other. He took a long, deep breath, and listened to them swirl around him, until all he could feel was their love and the sweet caress of his pillow.

#Geraskefer #Jaskier Whump #Soft Geralt #Soft Yennefer #The Witcher #Witcher Fic #jaskier #geralt #yennfer of vengerberg #sleep deprivation #insomnia #hurt/comfort #Witcher Whump #Butterbard's Fics

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animebabe301 · 4 years ago

Text

Rekindling the Fire

Warning(s): NSFW, smut

Pairing(s): Kakashi x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,923 words

A/N: This is for @allthingskakashi cause I put it in her reqs and now I’m the one who ended up writing it haha! :)) ENJOY!

Summary: With Kakashi as hokage and you as an academy teacher, each passing day gets harder and harder until one day, a surprise approaches and you and Kakashi get a vacation together.

You didn’t know how hard it was to have Kakashi as hokage and you as a teacher at the academy. That was where you both had met a few years ago. He was teaching team 7 while you were in charge of your own team. You had heard how cold of an instructor he was-never passing any team he was assigned, so you avoided him at all costs to stay on his good side--or just simply stay away from his bad side. It wasn’t until your team and Kakashi’s team had to complete a mission and work together that you both grew somewhat closer as friends.

Naruto had been the one to point out the fact that everytime you and Kakashi were together, Kakashi was the one who shied away. It was one night that you and Kakashi had stood watch while your students were sleeping, and you finally spoke to him about personal likes and dislikes and befriended him. As it turned out, you both had more in common than you’d thought, and although you could only see one of his eyes, you knew his emotions in that moment from just that one eye. That was how you both fell in love.

As time moved on, you both dated and your bond grew stronger and stronger. You both trained together, lived together, taught together. Everyone knew you both were the unstoppable power couple, in battle and romance. You both decided that marriage was good before the war and tied the knot through a simple but modest wedding-the way both of you wanted. All was well after the war, and Kakashi had been appointed as sixth hokage. Kakashi didn’t think he was fit to be hokage, but you and Iruka insisted that it would suit him well. That was... until recently. You’d been busy as an academy teacher and as a mother to your five-year old twins while Kakashi was spending many nights out of the week doing hokage duties. The twins were the sweetest children anyone could ever ask for. They had Kakashi’s silver hair, meanwhile they had your big (Y/E/C) eyes. They were born premature as you had problems during your pregnancy, but they were the healthiest two eight-month-old babies could ever be. If they didn’t pop out any time sooner, you could’ve sworn your stomach was going to pop.

But... there were nights where you felt like you couldn’t do it anymore. It was hard for you, but you knew it was hard for Kakashi as well. There were even nights where he wouldn’t make it home and would sleep on the couch in his office. It made you sad, but you knew you could never talk him out of taking a day off from his hokage duties. He worked too hard for his own good and he truly didn’t know what else he could do to make everyone happy. The days just seemed to drag on longer and longer, but you knew that you had to keep going or else you were going to be a wreck.

Unfortunately, you broke down. You didn’t feel right, and you weren’t happy at all. You’d just put the kids to sleep and you sat on your couch, staring at the empty wall behind the TV. It had been only four years since Kakashi had been appointed as hokage, but it felt like it’d been decades. You missed him by your side every night, his smell, his touch, everything. It made you yearn for him even more. You couldn’t do anything about it-you just had to deal with it. Sure, there were nights where you could please yourself if you had time alone after the kids slept. But it was nothing like the nights you and Kakashi would share in bed.

After sitting on the couch for what felt like hours, you decided to shower and get some sleep before the next day came. As you stood up, you heard your front door open. There he was, no longer the young man you fell in love with, but a hardworking man who needed to shave and groom himself just a bit more to look presentable, but you didn’t mind-he’s too busy taking care of everyone else but himself. Surprised that he was home, you rushed up to hug him, asking him if he had eaten already, if he wanted a massage, or if he wanted to sleep. Chuckling behind his mask, he looked at you, smiled, and explained that he had eaten already and just wanted to take a warm bath before going to sleep. Without hesitation, you started walking away to start a warm hot bath for him until your thoughts were interrupted.

“(Y/N)?” “Yes?” you said while turning around. Before you knew it, Kakashi was already standing in front of you, staring into your eyes. Trying to avoid his gaze, you looked down. He made you look up, taking your chin into his hand. You didn’t want him to see you like this, you wanted to be the perfect wife for him-no complaints, no tears, no worries. “Were you crying?” he asked while stroking your cheek. With the silent air between the both of you, he already knew the answer. “Why were you crying? Is it because of me? Did I do something wrong?” Concerned, he kept pestering you while you turned on your determined path to start the warm bath for your husband. Grabbing you roughly, he stopped you at the door of the bathroom. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” “It’s nothing,” you said while trying to get away from his grip. “Don’t lie, (Y/N), you and I both know that you are the worst liar in the universe, yet--” “Okay, yes! I was crying!” you yelled a bit too loudly, “I was crying because I can’t do this anymore, Kakashi, I can’t stand being home alone all the time, I can’t stand being in bed by myself and not having you here to hold me to sleep. I can’t stand not feeling your warmth by my side in the morning, and I can’t stand that you put so much effort into being hokage that I can’t even see you as often as a wife should see her husband!” “Well then, what do you want me to do, (Y/N)?! Grow eight tentacles and juggle everything at home AND at the office?! I’m trying my best to be your husband and as the protector of this village! I didn’t choose to become hokage, you and Iruka put this on me! You both were the ones who said that becoming hokage would definitely make the village a better place, well here I am-trying to make it a better place for others, yet no one would understand simply because they don’t!”

Tears were starting to well up in your eyes again. Kakashi and you never argued like this. He was always so calm and collected. You instantly regretted yelling at him. You didn’t know where that outburst came from, and you certainly didn’t mean to raise your voice at your husband. Without another word, Kakashi grabbed the towel from your hand and closed the bathroom door. You felt so bad. It wasn’t your husband’s fault. You were the reason he took the calling of being the sixth hokage, yet here you were complaining that you were alone. You knew the risks, you knew the challenges you would face, yet you were blaming your husband for the selfish desires in your heart. You sat on your bed, ashamed of the words and actions that made Kakashi go angry.

The water finished draining, and within a few seconds, Kakashi appeared in your shared bedroom. He’d wrapped himself in a white towel and had another towel in his hands drying his silver hair. The silence between the two of you was unbearable, but you didn’t know what to say, so you fixed the bed and told him to turn off the lights when he was done getting ready for bed. That night, Kakashi didn’t hold you, he didn’t even turn your way. He probably wasn’t mad, but was probably saddened by your sudden outburst. Or, he could’ve been angry that you were being selfish. Either way, you were thinking too much which made your head hurt, and before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep.

The next few days were the same-wake up, get the twins and yourself ready, cook breakfast, and out the door the three of you went. It was a continuous and basic routine. After the argument, you made sure to be asleep before Kakashi came home, and you were sure Kakashi wanted to avoid coming home in general other than to sleep and rest.

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Waking up from your slumber, you looked at the time on the alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s 7:30 a.m.! The kids were supposed to be out of bed and eating breakfast by now! You thought as you rushed yourself out of bed, putting on your robe. Looking into the twins’ room, they were nowhere to be found. “Boys! Where are you?! We need to be at the academy in a few minutes!” You looked everywhere, but to no avail. Eventually, you made your way downstairs to the kitchen, the glorious smell still beckoning you.

Turning the corner, you realized that the boys were already dressed and ready for school. They were eating their breakfast, and you turned to see Kakashi in an apron, making more food on the stove. You didn’t know what to do-you were still running off the adrenaline of waking up late, that you stood there, dumbfounded. “What’s the matter, babe? Cat got your tongue?” Kakashi teased as you silently tried to approach the three boys you loved so dearly in your life. Shocked that Kakashi was home, making breakfast for the family for the first time in awhile, you silently sat at the far end of the table. The twins were unexpectedly quiet this morning, but you knew that since the argument the other night, the boys hadn’t said much lately. The other night. When you yelled a bit too loudly at Kakashi for taking upon himself the name of hokage. Guilt started to creep in again until the younger of the twins, Yuma, broke the silence.

“Mommy? Daddy?” Which caught yours and Kakashi’s attention. With yours and Kakashi’s attention on Yuma, he continued, “Are you going to get divorced?” You and Kakashi stared at each other and looked away, ashamed that your children had heard the arguing the night before. Before you could both reply, your other son, Riku asked, “So it’s true? Mommy and daddy don’t love each other anymore? But why--” “Who told you that?” Kakashi said, cutting the two curious boys off, who were pouting with tears welling up in their eyes. “Well... the kids from school said that when parents argue, they’re going to end up divorcing,” Riku explained. Kakashi smiled while walking towards you-the two boys deeply distraught in their own small worlds. Kissing you on the head, Kakashi explained to them, “Well, when adults argue it doesn’t mean that they’re going to divorce, it just means that there’s a problem. And if that problem doesn’t get solved the right way, then the adults argue about that problem.” Wiping their tears away, Yuma and Riku looked at you with their big eyes, waiting for another justifiable and hopeful answer from you. “That’s right, boys. We were arguing because we weren’t happy, and we needed to solve a problem. But now, that problem is fixed, so you both don’t have to worry.” “Really?! So... mommy and daddy AREN’T going to divorce?!” the two boys exclaimed together. While looking at you, Kakashi assured them, “Nope! Mommy and I are going to be together forever! Just like the day I promised I would love her forever on our wedding day.” Cheering, the boys got up to hug each other-which in turn, turned out to be Kakashi pulling you in as well while squishing the two adorable boys in between you two.

After celebrating for a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. Opening the door, Iruka walked into your living room. “Uncle Iruka! Uncle Iruka!” the boys cheered together. “Are you ready boys? School’s about to start soon! Get your bags, we need to head out ASAP!” Confused, you looked at Iruka and said, “Oh, sorry Iruka, you must be confused with the days, I’m actually taking them today. You’re just a week early on picking them up, I’m afraid.” With a smile, Iruka simply looked over at Kakashi and winked at you, “don’t worry about it, I’m sure there’ll be another one on the way real soon-or maybe another two.”

Before you could say anything else, Iruka and the boys were already on their way to school. You were left behind, stunned by the words that had come out of Iruka’s mouth. Looking up at the clock, you realized that you only had ten minutes before classes were starting, and you panicked, rushing up the stairs to get ready for work. Stopping you dead in your tracks, Kakashi stared at you and simply said, “you’re off of work today,” before walking down the steps. For sure, he was the hokage, but you had your duties and he had his. He wasn’t going to use his power against you. Before taking another step, Kakashi warned you, “I told you that you’re off today. Just get dressed to travel.” “Why? Where are we going?” you asked curiously. “Just get dressed.”

While you were busy getting dressed, you realized that there were two packed bags in your closet. The ones you and Kakashi had last used for your honeymoon, where you’d conceived the twins. Just thinking about your honeymoon made you think of the things you and Kakashi had done. Things that made you feel a certain way-the only certain way Kakashi could ever make you feel. Things that couldn’t be explained, and things that should never be explained about. You couldn’t think about that right now. You were even surprised that Kakashi had been home this morning-or even that he’d spoken to you.

Waiting on the couch in your living room, Kakashi brought the luggage downstairs and checked all the doors in the house to make sure no intruders could enter. You were confused and had so many questions, but that’s what Kakashi hated-questions. Sometimes, you had too many, and he’d get slightly impatient with you. Seeing as though he seemed to still be a bit distant since the argument, you decided to go along with whatever it was he was planning.

Walking out of Konoha, you were wondering where the boys would be staying-who they would be staying with. As if reading your mind, Kakashi interrupted your thoughts saying, “the boys will be with Iruka while we’re gone.” With a content state of mind, you decided to let that thought go. Iruka was a trustworthy person who knew how to take care of children, and he’d taken care of the boys before. If he ever needed help, he knew that Asuma and Kurenai would be of help since they had a little one of their own as well. Hearing the rustling of the leaves around the both of you, you weren’t afraid. They were simply members of the Anbu black-ops who had to stay by Kakashi’s side no matter where he went. You weren’t bothered by them, but you weren’t comfortable enough to make conversation with them either.

You walked silently behind Kakashi, afraid that asking any questions would anger him even more than you already had the few nights ago. Kakashi didn’t seem mad, but he did seem occupied in his mind. After walking for a whole day, Kakashi stopped at a private sauna bath. As you both walked in, you didn’t see anyone other than workers there. Wondering where other customers were, you asked the ladies at the front desk while trying to make small talk. The women then explained that the hokage had made arrangements that it be reserved for the two of you only. Surprised, you were speechless. Kakashi wasn’t one to make these types of arrangements. While settling down into your suite, you and Kakashi changed your clothes from what you wore to travel into bathrobes to enter the hot bath.

While sitting in silence and enjoying the hot relaxing water on your body, you heard a simple “I’m sorry.” It was so quiet and subtle that you weren’t sure you’d heard Kakashi correctly. It wasn’t until he looked up at you that you realized he was speaking to you. His eyes were tired. His body exhausted from the constant slouch he had when sitting in his chair in his office. You never had time to look at your husband, you just knew that he was never endlessly working and never home. You were simply selfish from your desires and struggles that you were only finally realizing how much your husband had been through these past six years. Sure, you’d been through hell and back throughout the years as well, but Kakashi had double the pain in the rear end you had.

You had tears forming in your eyes as you thought back to the night of the argument. “I’m sorry too,” you finally expressed with a smile toward your husband. Relieved of the tension between the two of you, Kakashi motioned for you to cuddle with him in the water. Sliding your body toward him, you put your head on his chest while he laid on the outer wall of the sauna. “You didn’t have to do this, Kakashi. We could’ve just had a day to ourselves at home.” “No, we both needed this, (Y/N). Plus, we’re going to be here for a bit, so we might as well appreciate that Iruka was willing to take care of the twins while we’re gone,” Kakashi replied. Kakashi went on, “we’ve both been stressed over little things, it’s about time we’ve been spending more time together. We’re not getting any younger, and I don’t think our minds can last any longer without each other.”

For the rest of the night, you both caught up on things you were unable to say to each other for the past few months. There were tears and laughter mixed into that night. For the first time in awhile, you felt happy. Not that you weren’t happy with your life at home, but you needed a break from being the perfect wife, mother, and teacher. Anyone would understand, but you knew Kakashi would understand the most. Although you’d never been hokage either, you understood the stress he went through as leader of one of the most powerful villages in the land of fire.

“(Y/N),” Kakashi said while stroking your hair, “I hope you never feel like I’m neglecting you. I know I’m not the best husband, but I love you. And I may not always be home, but just know that--” “--that there’s always an anbu black-op watching over us at home?” Shocked at your words, Kakashi just simply sighed to himself. “So you knew...” “Silly! Of course I knew! You and I were the most formidable couple in Konoha back in the day-and you think I wouldn’t notice that an anbu black-op is simply pit-patting on our roof daily?” With a small O formed on his mouth, you simply calmed his racing heart, “I appreciate that you did that, Kakashi. It makes the boys and me feel safer at home. That’s how I always knew you cared-from hearing the anbu on the roof. That was your way of showing you cared about us even though you couldn’t be there yourself at home.”

With that, you pulled Kakashi’s mask down, revealing his rose pink lips. Kissing him felt like it was the first time again. It’d been so long since you felt his strong arms around you, holding your waist as though you were going to disappear if he didn’t hold tight enough. Your kiss turned out to be more than you both thought it’d be-a make out session. Kakashi grabbed you and lifted you up onto his lap. You looked away and blushed, being reminded of the weight you’d gained since you both had been married and had the twins. “What’s wrong?” Kakashi asked, clearly concerned. “Nothing, I just got fat--” Cutting you off with a kiss, Kakashi’s lips left yours as he made it clear while looking into your eyes, “you are beautiful. Probably even more beautiful than the night we first made love. Look at me.” Blushing, you finally looked at your husband, making such intense eye contact that caused for you to look down. Kakashi was impatient and unsatisfied with the way you were acting, and flipped you over onto your back. With a yelp, you were under your husband’s muscular body, under his mercy.

Kakashi started kissing your neck, making sure to leave marks. No one would be able to see them as you were both the only people at the sauna (other than Kakashi’s anbu guards), but you knew they were going to leave a mark for at least a week. You made small whimpers as Kakashi kept nibbling behind your ears and collarbone. “Don’t hold back, baby. I’ll make you feel even better than I did on our honeymoon. I want to hear you,” Kakashi softly said against your skin. Slowly peeling your silk robe from your body, Kakashi made sure each part of the surface of your skin was well taken care of. He traveled down to your breasts, caressing one of your mounds in his hand while bringing his mouth down on the other. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You were finally making love with Kakashi again but without anything holding you back; no kids sleeping in the next room, no next door neighbors.

When Kakashi flicked his tongue against your nipple, you felt a noise leave your lips. It wasn’t a small whimper, it was a moan that had been hidden inside for the past few years. You took Kakashi’s silver hair in between your fingers and pulled, signaling to him that you wanted more-no, you needed more. Kakashi kept nibbling and flicking his tongue against your breast and moved onto the other, giving it the same love. You were already a moaning and wet mess as he moved further down to your lower abdomen. He kissed your stomach, making sure to leave a wet trail of his saliva, marking your body as his. “Please, Kakashi. Stop teasing,” you begged breathlessly. “Not yet, baby. I’m going to make sure you feel loved. I’m going to take it slow-it’s been too long.” Groaning at the painstakingly slow pace Kakashi was taking with you, you could only sit there and wait for whatever he was going to do to your body next.

Kakashi continued to slowly kiss all of the sweet spots on your abdomen, making you even wetter. You forgot how this all felt, the way Kakashi’s mouth felt on your skin, his rough calloused hands holding your waist down, and the way you could moan freely out in the open. Lifting himself up hovering over your body, he kissed your lips slowly and sweetly, then pulled away and got out of bed. He reached over into the nightstand and pulled something out. A piece of cloth-made of silk, and put it over your eyes. He then got up again, grabbing something else out of the nightstand. Wondering what it was, you turned your body-attempting to somehow see out of the silk cloth over your eyes, but failing instead as you felt Kakashi’s hands on your waist. “Stay still, baby,” he hushed as you whimpered from the random contact, “tonight’s all about you. I just need you to be a good girl and stay still for me.” Grabbing both of your wrists, he tied another silk cloth around your wrists and brought them against the headboard. As he tied your wrists to the headboard, you could feel his hard cock rubbing against his pants- as if it was teasing you without needing to be inside you.

After successfully tying up your wrists, he continued to worship your body. He kissed over your body another round, causing for you to whimper louder and louder the lower he went, closer to your sopping core. You wanted to touch Kakashi-it was unfair that only he could touch you. Attempting to free your wrists from the silk ties, Kakashi stopped all contact. Whining from the loss of contact, Kakashi’s voice came beside your ear and all you heard was, “I told you to be a good girl and to stay still. We’ll get to where you want to be in a bit, baby.” After a long pause, he continued, “--will you be a good girl and stay still?” Nodding your head adamantly, he simply whispered, “good,” and continued his painstaking process.

You tried to stay still as his lips ended up on your thighs, making sure to get each and every corner of your body. The moment he spread your legs to get a better view, you closed your legs. It’d been too long since someone else other than yourself had seen your naked and bare body. “Sorry, I--” “It’s okay, baby. It’s just me. I know it’s been awhile, but I’ll make it up to you tonight,” Kakashi assured you while peeling your legs apart. You let him spread your legs apart, feeling the cool air hit your wet, sopping core. Kakashi kissed your left ankle, making sure you felt his wet tongue gliding down your calf; trailing his mouth up your thigh, getting closer to your core. Just when you thought he was going to surely reach your dripping core, he pulled away which caused a whine to leave your mouth. He then did the same thing to your right leg, kissing your right ankle, trailing his mouth and tongue down your leg to your thigh. The air hitting differently than before from his saliva on your legs.

You whimpered at his painstakingly and patient actions. Kakashi then put your legs down, and started kissing your inner thighs, teasing you where he knew you were most sensitive. Because it was your sensitive spot, your legs reacted by closing around Kakashi’s head. Using his strong hands to pull your legs apart, he asked in a deep voice, “Are you going to quit? Or do I need to leave you dripping here for the rest of the night, baby?” “No, please. I’m sorry, Kakashi,” you pleaded as you laid there, making sure your body was his to toy with for the time being. He waited until you were done fixing your posture before he brought his hand to your sopping core. With a moan leaving your mouth, you slightly squirmed under his touch before stopping, remembering to stay still. “You’re already dripping so much for me, baby. It’s making me go crazy,” Kakashi said as he starting rubbing your throbbing clit, making you moan louder and louder with every small movement.

The pace of his hand picked up against your clit, making you moan louder and louder, meanwhile attempting not to squirm. While rubbing your throbbing clit, Kakashi took your left breast into his mouth and the other in his left hand. He eventually slowly inserted one of his fingers into your dripping core. With his right hand working on your core, his mouth on your breast, and his left hand on your other breast, you felt your orgasm coming. He proceeded to insert another finger into your heat. Closer and closer. It was coming closer and building up. You felt it coming, your whimpers and moans a sign to Kakashi. Within a moment, Kakashi removed himself from your body, denying you of your orgasm. “Kakashi, please let me cum,” you begged, “why’d you do that?” “Not too fast, baby. I told you I’m taking my time tonight,” he said before kissing your lips softly. Clearly frustrated, you pouted, making sure that even though you couldn’t see Kakashi, he could see your anger and frustration.

The next thing you knew, Kakashi’s soft lips were on your pussy, making you moan and writhe while he held your hips down-both of his arms around your thighs, making sure you weren’t going anywhere. “Ka-kakashi,” you moaned at the random sensation. While eating you out, Kakashi made sure he was hitting each and every sweet spot he could reach. He made sure to lick you up and down, swirl his tongue, and even write the alphabet while holding you down. “Kakashi--please, just fuck me,” you begged while practically on the verge of tears. They weren’t tears of pain, they were tears of pleasure-from the pleasure that was almost releasing again. Your moans were getting louder and louder. It would’ve been embarrassing that the workers and anbu could hear you, but you could care less. At least they knew that Kakashi was good in bed, and that you were Kakashi’s woman.

Nearing your orgasm, Kakashi pulled away again. Disappointed, you were about to whine and complain, but your tied wrists were pulled off the headboard of the bed. Kakashi had you on his lap, both of your wrists still tied together, wrapped around his neck. Both of your legs wrapped around his waist. Before you knew it, Kakashi had both your legs over his arms and was slowly guiding you down onto his throbbing cock. Filling you up, you moaned at how much you’d missed being stretched out by Kakashi’s cock. Guiding you slowly up and down on his cock, Kakashi kept whispering into your ear how you were such a good girl for listening to him, and that you were doing such a good job. He eventually picked up the pace, making you a loud mess. Each of your moans were met with his lips on yours-attempting to at least silence some moans.

After a few more thrusts, Kakashi lifted you off his cock, taking your arms and pinning them back up onto the headboard. Forcefully flipping you onto your knees, your ass in the air, giving Kakashi a perfect view of your core. Slapping one of your ass cheeks, Kakashi kissed the other while teasing your core with his cock. Whining and attempting to push yourself onto his throbbing huge cock, Kakashi disappeared off the bed and grabbed something from the nightstand again. “Open your mouth,” he demanded. Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and felt him put a finger in your mouth followed by a gag ball. Tying the back of the gag ball onto the back of your head, Kakashi returned behind you on the bed. Grabbing a fist full of your hair, Kakashi forced you to lift your head- making the perfect arch with your back. Within a second, Kakashi was pounding into you, making you moan against the gag ball-tears forming on the rim of your eyes. Kakashi kept pounding into you, harder and harder, bringing your orgasm closer and closer, again and again. A few more thrusts and you were sure your orgasm was going to come crashing down on you. Sensing that you were close, Kakashi took your wrists off the headboard, flipping you around while you were still on his cock. Still thrusting into you, slowly this time, he took the gag ball off your head, and put your tied wrists around his neck, taking you in missionary position. Kakashi wanted to see every part of you. Picking up the once slow pace, each and every thrust getting rougher and rougher, Kakashi was about to reach his limit as well.

You couldn’t say much, just whimpering Kakashi’s name here and there but moaning louder and louder with each thrust, being overstimulated by how fast and rough Kakashi was taking you. Kakashi wasn’t kissing you to silence your loud moans anymore. In fact, he was moaning against your skin as well, groaning and growling deeply while leaving bite marks into your skin. Each and every one of his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier, but you could care less as Kakashi brought his hand to rub your clit to get you off faster and faster. You felt the fire inside you burning up higher and higher, your moans louder and louder. With the mixture of your sweat dripping bodies, Kakashi’s cock throbbing and thrusting inside you, and your mixed moans, your orgasm was reaching. It came as a small release but grew more and more. You clenched around Kakashi’s cock as you came, breathless and speechless. He was hitting your g-spot over and over, you couldn’t contain your orgasm anymore. Your release came as you pulled Kakashi’s body closer to yours. You squirmed under Kakashi as your high came and you couldn’t contain it anymore. You could feel Kakashi cum inside you as well, filling you up and his thrusts slowing as he rammed the last few thrusts into you. Meanwhile, Kakashi was busy worshipping the other body parts of yours, making your orgasm even more intense. As your body came down from the high, you couldn’t remember much, just that everything went black.

This fire inside of you, one that had been rekindled tonight by Kakashi Hatake, your husband. It felt so good to find a release as well. A real release-not one from a pillow, your fingers, or a vibrator. It felt miraculous, but you were unsure of what had happened after being overstimulated. You woke up to the feeling of warm towels rubbing against your inner thighs as Kakashi stood above you, taking care of your worn out body. “Hi, baby,” Kakashi whispered as he kissed you with a smile on his face. With a weak smile on your face you asked Kakashi what happened after you both came. He explained that you blacked out from being overstimulated, but that you were going to be okay since he was going to take care of you for the rest of the night. Carrying you to the bathroom, you realized that Kakashi had a hot bath ready for the both of you to clean yourselves off in. Laying your head on Kakashi’s chest behind you in the bathtub, you both spoke softly about how you thought Iruka and the boys were doing and imagining what they could possibly be doing at the time as well.

After drying off, you were reaching for your suitcase to find your pajamas to wear to sleep, but Kakashi insisted that you both forget clothes altogether and sleep naked. You didn’t mind, but were afraid that an anbu or employee would walk in and see you both sleeping naked. “It’s okay, baby,” Kakashi explained, “they won’t be bothering us unless we call for them.” Pulling you into his strong arms, hot bodies pressed together, you couldn’t remember the last time Kakashi and you had spent the night simply enjoying each other’s presence and truly making love instead of having a quickie. “Baby?” you asked Kakashi, looking up at him. “What is it, babe?” “What did Iruka mean when he said that maybe there’d be another one or two on the way?” you asked curiously. “Well...we’re going to be here for an entire week, beautiful. So that means that this is only round one,” he explained and chuckled as he saw your wide eyes realizing what Iruka meant by one or two more on the way. Trying to avoid any other surprises, you laid your head back onto Kakashi’s chest. After laughing to himself, Kakashi whispered a gentle “goodnight” before kissing your forehead as you dozed off to sleep, dreaming about the next few rounds that were bound to come.

#kakashi smut #kakashinsfw #kakashihusband #kakashihatake #kakashi x reader #kakashihokage #kakashinaruto

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

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Title: Kismet {8}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Tiny Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy, POV Changes, Small Time Jumps

Words: 6.6k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

-Henry-

The minute he woke the next day and the alcohol had worn off; he instantly regretted his actions. His head was pounding and his nose stuffy, which was always what the morning after a drinking fest looked and felt like for him. the pain in his head made him painfully aware of everything he’d said to you. More than half of him wished he would have just held his peace and moved on, but the other side of him—the stubborn bull side felt nothing but satisfaction from what he’d done. It was time, especially seeing that you completely had the wrong idea about who he was and his character. He couldn’t help but wonder what you thought about your conversation, but instead of dwelling on it, he decided to push it to the side and do the logical thing. Move on.

It was now five days since that conversation, and though it felt strange the first couple of days to not send you a message when you ran across his mind, he did it and adapted. He now was throwing himself into work because there wasn’t a shortage of it. Most days, he was in pre-production for Witcher two, and that in itself was a lot of work. Production decided to kick fight choreography up a notch because last season wasn’t badass enough. The choreography this season was definitely taking it up several notches, and it meant more long hours of training and even more potential for him to be hurt.

By week two post convo, he was steadily counting down to his vacation time. Training was kicking his ass, and the more and more days that passed, the more he thought of you. That wasn’t all though, the more the way he thought of you changed. In the beginning, he thought he was infatuated or possibly obsessed. When he was around you, he always felt as if he wasn’t in control. He felt like there were forces that were controlling your interactions and pulling a starry blanket over his feelings. He expected this time away to act as a purge, but it hadn’t, not in the way he’d anticipated.

“Come on, her name is Becca, and she’s super cute,” Alisha said.

“Why is it that all my brother’s wives want to set me up?”

“Because we care. You’re too great of a guy to be alone,” Halley complimented.

They all nodded, and his eldest brother painfully squeezed his cheek.

“Plus, look at this face,” Nik teased, making all of them elate.

It had been like this since they were kids. Nothing had changed.

“I’m perfectly fine being alone,” he answered.

“Doesn’t mean you should be,” Amee piped out.

No matter what, he said it wouldn’t be good enough until he gave them what they wanted. He had no intention of doing it, though. He wasn’t sure if it was really his loathing of being set up or because he didn’t want to pretend to want anyone else. Whatever it was, it had him declining to their annoyance. He could stick it out for the next two weeks until he got out of London.

-Aliya-

“You fucked up, plain and simple,” Amaya blurted out as she flipped through a magazine.

You rolled your eyes and tried to continue writing notes to the song you’d just wrote. As sure as you were that it was pitch black outside, you knew she wasn’t done—not by a long shot. A minute passed in silence, but as projected, Amaya began again.

“Just explain to me why you don’t want to be happy.” Amaya tossed the magazine aside, giving you her full attention. Still, you ignored her and kept your eyes glued to the note pad.

“Liya, come on. At some point in your life, you’re going to have to be honest with yourself.”

She was right. For the last few weeks, you’d spent a lot of sleepless nights doing just that. Since Henry’s call, you’d been forced to look at your situation in a light you’d ignored. It wasn’t that you were doing it maliciously. It was just easier and neater to see the worst in every situation hence the worst in people. You’d been the girl who dug deep for the best in people and only focused on that and their potential for too long. It made more sense from a survivalist standpoint to be different.

You’d went back and forth and round and round your situation, and perhaps you were too quick to jump to conclusions. The bottom line was the things he said had affected you, more than you liked and more than you could ignore. A few days after his call, you saw his picture in The Sun. He wasn’t alone. It looked like he’d had a long night of partying. You deduced it was probably the same night he called you. Though he was obviously drunk, he still looked so damn good. In the last few weeks, you’d thought about him a lot. On several occasions, you’d taken up your phone for the sole purpose to stalk his Instagram or even scroll through your gallery to gawk at his pictures. Never though, did you attempt to call.

The main reason was that you hated being the one in the wrong. You hated feeling like the asshole and what was worse was that you also hated apologizing. So, you bit your tongue, pushed your thoughts and emotions aside, and just hoped time would make it all fade. It didn’t.

“Aliya!”

Closing your notepad, you stood. “We’re going to miss the flight.”

“Whatever! It’s a private jet. It’s your private jet.”

You were already out of the room, which meant thankfully, you didn’t have to see her face. The drive to the private airfield was about forty-five minutes. For the entire ride, you could feel Amaya’s annoyance with you. she didn’t say one word. Instead, she kept her nose buried in her phone scrolling her life away. It was okay with you; you had plenty of work to do. Plus, you knew this wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

Sure enough, twenty minutes into the flight to London, she was back at it. The difference between Amaya and Alicia was simple. Where Alicia liked to leave me be until she knew the perfect time to go in because she knew the perfect time would come when you would be more receptive to it, Amaya preferred to go in all the time. She was always on one hundred. You loved both your best friends dearly, and they both spoke to different sides of you, but sometimes you wished they were wrong a lot more often than they were right.

When you got pulled into a phone meeting, you were grateful and even more so when it lasted for almost two hours. By the time you ended the call, Amaya was napping. Though you thought the silence was what you wanted, it was a blessing in disguise. It meant you now had peace and quiet to think, and your thoughts more often than not went right to Henry.

When you landed in London and checked into the hotel, it was after midnight. Once you’d taken a shower and answered a few emails, you popped two sleep aids in hopes they would knock you out because you needed all your energy tomorrow.

-The Next Day-

Hectic was an understatement for how your morning and afternoon had been going. One of the great things about being you was that when you got bored with one career avenue, you had three more to distract yourself with. For the last several months, you’d been focusing on your acting career and had been able to complete two films and three guest appearances. In between acting gigs you were also able to do a few modeling events, including Fall and Spring fashion week.

What had fallen to the wayside was your singing career. It was almost time for you to fulfill your contractual obligations by releasing another album. You’d been focusing on writing new material for the last few weeks, and tonight you were putting on one of the last stops on a mini-tour your team had planned months ago. The travel alone was killing you. You were exhausted, even more than usual. With every show, you felt your body telling you it would soon be time to slow down or stop for a few months. You needed a break.

“I should have flown in days ago. I hate feeling like this isn’t perfect.”

“Aliya, it’s fine,” Alicia countered.

The perfectionist in you didn’t believe her.

“I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you. You have to go anyway. The show is supposed to start at six; it’s already three.”

She was right. Though you hated it, you would have to cross your fingers and hope things looked cohesive. After finishing up the last-minute wardrobe adjustments and a quick pep talk with your dancers, you made your way back to the hotel to get in a little bit of pampering before having to get back to the center for prep.

As you laid on the table and enjoyed your deep tissue massage, you allowed the worries to float away. There was nothing you could do about it now anyway. You were also sure it was perfectly fine, and just your obsessive nature taking over. Tuning everything out, you focused on your meditative breathing. Before you knew it, it was time to get back to the center to get into wardrobe and put on a show worthy of the hundreds that were spent on tickets. You were determined to perform your ass off.

-Henry-

He couldn’t have gotten out of tonight no matter what. He’d tried. When Charlie announced to everyone that Heather had made plans for their adults' date night, he rolled his eyes. Now that he thought of it, it was around the time that Amee tried to set him up with that woman. This was supposed to be a blind date, and since he’d declined, he was here alone while all his other brothers were snuggling up and whispering to their significant others.

Here he was an hour and ten minutes into your show, and he’d never had more fluctuating thoughts and feelings. At first, it was surprise; then annoyance, then it transitioned into awe until it moved to arousal and admiration. Now he was stewing deep in all of them, and it was not a good look. Your voice was incredible. He’d always known how talented you were. Your stamina to dance and sing blew his mind. Then when he watched those dance moves closer, it was impossible to keep his thoughts pure. It also didn’t help that the outfits you were wearing only fueled his imagination more.

“What’s wrong with you? You said you liked Aliya Taylor,” Amee shouted over the music.

Plastering a smile on his face, he nodded. “Yeah, she’s great. I’m tired.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

When you came out for the final song in a flowing low cut white gown and barefoot, he staggered backward when he envisioned you walking down a flower aisle.

“Fucking hell!”

All eyes snapped to him, and the curious looks on their faces only had him needing air even more.

“I—I’m gonna get a head start to the cars.”

Not waiting for a response, he turned and walked through the crowd, not daring to look back at you.

-Aliya-

Amaya and Alicia laughed together at something on Amaya’s timeline. No doubt it was some picture of one of her boy toys. You sipped from your flower decorated porcelain teacup while staring out over London to the Eye. Just behind it, Big Ben stood tall and proud as it chimes for four o’clock echoed through the city. This was a city you’d spent a lot of time in thanks to your grandparents on your father’s side. Not as much time as they’d like, but there was only so much free time you had. Big Ben and the Eye were two of your favorite things about London.

You should have been on cloud nine after another successful show and checking another thing off your extensive to-do list, but you weren’t. You felt almost as gloomy as the rolling clouds in the sky that threatened rain.

“You seem depressed.”

Alicia’s voice had you turning back to them you softly smiled. “I’m not.”

“You look it,” Amaya slid home.

Rolling your eyes, you finished your cup of tea and gently placed it on its matching saucer with a shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you then.”

Amaya then gasped with a smile in her eyes. “I know what it is. You’re finally missing your grade A prime beef of a man.”

Snorting, you shook your head. “Oh god. Try again.”

“You might be right, Mya,” Leece started placed her elbows on the table to peer at you closer. “This all started the night we had dinner with him. What’s his name again?” Both of them pretended to wrack their brains to remember his name, but they knew damn well what it was.

“Ah, Henry,” Amaya cooed, making you roll your eyes even harder.

“Both of you stop. You’re not funny.”

“We approve.”

“I second that,” Alicia added.

“What? Really?”

“Are you kidding? Yeah. Not only is he gorgeous, like drop dead gorgeous, but he is also super nice. Throughout dinner he was very courteous and sincere. You know I’m a good people reader,” Amaya attested.

“He’s funny, and he seemed to be genuine with his efforts to get to know Mya and me. He also was putting in effort into proving something to you.”

Sighing, you took a few sips of your water.

“Honestly, I couldn’t find anything wrong with him.”

“Really? Perfection?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Yes, you’d suspected they liked him, but the perfect word was just uttered. It was never spoken of, not by them.

“Pretty much,” Amaya doubled down.

“Wow.”

“Tell me about it. Move on that before some other chick does. He will not be single for long,” Amaya added.

For some reason, this was the first time you’d thought about that, and you couldn’t believe it. She was right. He was gorgeous, among other things, and women already fawned over him. He wouldn’t be licking his wounds much longer. A knot formed in your gut, and a sour taste in your mouth followed. Glancing away from their penetrative gazes, you looked around the restaurant and nearly dropped the water glass when you saw Henry across the restaurant laughing. This was the first time you’d seen him in person since your breakfast in New York weeks and weeks ago, and he looked great.

Your eyes drank him up, taking their time soaking up every detail of his face, the slight stubble that decorated his chiseled jaw, his perfectly imperfect smile, his hair that fell slightly longer than you remembered. When he spoke again, you watched his mouth move and quickly got lost. You didn’t have to hear his words. You knew how he spoke them. You knew the effect his voice had. At the thought of that effect, you peeled your eyes away and tried to keep them on either Alicia, Amaya, or the table. Of course, it was impossible. Your eyes continuously found him, and it was on him they remained until you forced yourself to look away.

“What do you keep looking at?”

Amaya glanced around the restaurant. You knew she’d found him because when she turned to face you again, her smile was as wide as a thief's.

“Oh ho ho, looks like fate is on mine and Leece’s side.”

“Stop. Be cool, act natural. Don’t make a scene,” you pleaded.

“Look at that, same place, same time, just mere feet away.”

From the tone of her voice, you knew she was tempted to fuck with you.

“Stop, Amaya. Don’t.”

“Why?”

Trying to keep your voice down and the panic from your face, you pleaded again. “Just don’t.”

Amaya studied you for a few moments before she nodded in defeat. Relief flooded you. Though you tried, you couldn’t get your head back onto lunch and off of him no matter how you tried. The three of you left shortly after passing his table on the way out.

Thanks to a little free time, you, Amaya, and Alicia were able to soak up some shopping in London and before getting back to the hotel for a quick change, then dinner. Even though you tried to stop thinking about Henry’s face earlier, you weren’t the least bit successful, but you played it off like everything was cool. You didn’t know if you fooled either of them, but you really didn’t care. You were so ready to get the hell out of London.

-That Night-

Big Ben’s chime for one in the morning ringing out all around you. It was yet another night of sleeplessness. From your seat at the window, you could feel the nice breeze. It still smelled like rain, but for whatever reason, the rain was staying away. Finishing your glass of wine, you sighed out and nearly leaped out your skin when your phone rang in the quiet room.

“Hello?”

“What’s wrong?”

You smiled from the unexpected sound of your gramaw’s voice. It was like the concrete gate you had around your heart that was constricting it to the point where it was challenging to breathe loosened.

Sighing, you leaned back, reclining against the surface.

“I think I fell in love,” you whispered.

“In love?”

Hearing the words said back to you made you close your eyes and shake your head.

“Yeah, at least I think that’s what I’m feeling. I can’t sleep well, not that I could before. I feel a little depressed, and I can’t pinpoint why, but when I think about it, I feel this way when I think about him. Not to mention, I think about him all the time. Christ, I even dream about him.”

Pausing, you glanced at your phone to find his picture there. It was the last thing you’d been looking at before tossing your phone away.

“I truly feel like I did something wrong, like I was wrong,” you confessed.

“Have you talked to him?”

Hitting your head back, you groaned. “Not since he called me and told me I’m missing out on him and gave me all the reasons why I should realizing I’m missing out.”

You couldn't help but smile at his words as you remembered them.

“Do you feel like you’re missing out?”

Your Gramaw always knew the right questions to ask. She was one of the few that did, one of the few that you’d even listen to. Bowing your head, you sighed again.

“Maybe. Normally I’m sure about someone and sure that I don’t need or want them in my life, but with him—I have doubts with my snap judgment.”

“Oh no, snap judgments are never a good thing, Aliya.”

You groaned hearing the disappointment in her voice. “I know, jeez do I know.”

“What do you feel like doing?”

You scoffed, if you knew that you wouldn’t be going through this struggle.

“I’ll be to you in a few days. I’ll see you soon.”

“Your heart, Aliya, not your head,” she cautioned before you ended the call.

For the next thirty or so minutes, you paced the balcony of your room as you debated with yourself over what you were going to do. After psyching yourself up as much as you could, you bit the bullet dialing Henry’s number before you talked yourself out of it. After one ring, you almost hung up but forced yourself to stick through the terror running through you. Two rings passed, then three. At the fourth you began to lower your hand to end the call and then his voice echoed through the speaker.

“Hello?”

You froze drawing a blank and forgetting for a moment you had a voice.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” you whispered.

The rustling on his end was loud but brief.

“Aliya?”

Swallowing the lump, you took a deep breath. “Yeah. Hi.”

“It’s after one in the morning. Is everything all right? Are you hurt?”

Your heart lurched, and a soft smile spread across your lips. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not hurt,” you assured.

He sighed, then yawned.

“I uh—I know it’s late or early. I know you, um, probably have something better to do than be up. I’m sorry if I woke you,” you half rushed and stuttered out.

“You’re rambling, Aliya.” You stopped your pacing then and slapped your forehead.

“Yes, I am. I do that when I’m nervous,” you blurted.

“Why are you nervous?”

Pausing, you gripped the rail on the balcony and used it to center yourself and get your nerves under control.

“Well, I’m about to ask the man I told I wouldn’t be with to meet me somewhere at nearly two in the morning. I’m—sending major mixed signals.”

Henry didn’t speak right away. Instead, he waited, making you chew your bottom lip as your anxiety increased.

“Why?”

“Wh—why? Why what?”

“Why should I?”

Stunned, your jaw dropped. “Oh, wow, out with the hard questions. Okay. Um—well—you should meet me because uh—it’s not often that I realize I was wrong or did something wrong and when I realize that, I like to say so.”

Again the silence over the phone stretched for long moments. After a full minute of it, your anxiety peaked.

“Still there?”

Henry sighed. “I’m here. I’m thinking.”

His voice sounded so deliciously deep. Either you had woken him, and this was his sleepy voice, or he was purposely giving you that sexy baritone.

“By all means. Think as long as you need to. Um—I’ll be at the eye until 2:30. I um—I hope you show. If you don’t, I understand, really I do and no hard feelings.”

Quickly you ended the call and panted as if you’d been running a marathon all in an effort to calm yourself down. It had been years since you’d put yourself through something like that, and you had a feeling it was only the beginning of you making amends.

Being Aliya Taylor afforded you some perks, and one was being able to have access to the eye well after closing. All it took was one call, well two to be exact, and voila, you were sitting in one of the cars anxiously waiting for Henry. You had no idea if he’d show, and the more and more time that passed with him not magically appearing, the more and more your brain worked overtime. The scenery helped a lot, but when you glanced at your watch and saw that it was almost 2:30, the scenery could do no more. Your nerves and anxiety had erupted like a volcano.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

Spinning, you saw Henry at the door still on the platform. You released a relieved sigh, realizing he hadn’t stood you up.

“Good thing I’m not—anymore.”

Henry stepped into the car and took a few steps to you but stopped when he was still a ways away.

“London after two is not safe,” Henry informed.

“I know.”

The doors closed, and the contraption began moving.

“How in the world did you get them to open this for you?”

Smiling, you shrugged. “I may know people in high places,” you replied, which made him smile.

“This is one of my favorite places in London,” you announced as you walked around the car, taking care not to get too close. You didn’t know if you could handle it right away, and you had to feel him out to see what his coming really meant.

“Why?”

“You can see all of greater London from here and out to the countryside if you really look once you’re up high.”

Henry also walked around the car, mirroring your intentions. Neither of you came close enough to touch one another.

“How often do you come to London?”

“A lot. I have some family here, plus I prefer the countryside.”

“So you have some British blood,” Henry inquired, half a question, half a statement.

“I had to. Only the Bris would dare think to send their daughters off to finishing school,” you quipped.

Henry’s laugh filled the car, making you smile widely. He walked to one of the many windows turning his back to you. Slowly you looked over his broad back, taking in every detail. Your fingers could still remember what the dance of his muscles felt like underneath them, and they itched to feel them dance again. Taking a deep breath, you fiddled your fingers.

“Uh--I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important by asking you here. Like I hope I didn’t impose on—anyone.”

You were fishing, it was obvious, and you felt no shame.

“Eh, who needs sleep anyway. I can sleep when I’m dead,” Henry replied with a shrug of those magnificent shoulders still keeping his back to you.

“Were um--were you uh—sleeping—alone?”

Your heart was pounding so loudly you could swear he could hear it. He didn’t speak or turn around. He just stood there torturing you. You wondered if he knew it was sheer torture what he was doing. Did he even care? The longer he remained quiet, the more you freaked out until you decided to backtrack all the way back.

“I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. It is absolutely none of my business. I don’t even know why I asked that,” you rushed out, rubbing your forehead from embarrassment before beginning to pace the car.

That was when Henry chose to turn around.

“I know a woman doesn’t say something she doesn’t mean, and usually when a woman asks a question, she wants to know the answer either to prove herself right or in hopes she’s wrong. What is it for you?”

His voice made you stop in the midst of pacing to watch his mouth as he spoke. There was something poetic about how he spoke, and it always distracted you. Nibbling your bottom lip, you thought about how to respond. You were already tired of the verbal Olympics and talking around each other.

Sighing, you rolled your eyes. “Henry--.”

“You know that’s the first time you’ve said my name without the word goodbye in front of it.”

That made you snap your mouth shut. Had it?

“That’s not true,” you protested.

“It actually is. I was beginning to think you like saying goodbye rather than hello.”

You took a step to him. “That’s not true. I like saying hello way more than goodbye,” you defended.

The neutral look on his face gave you no confidence to go on, so you rolled your eyes and continued to walk around the car. This would be harder than you expected, you thought.

“I was sleeping alone. I’ve slept alone for quite some time now,” he informed just as you were looking out of the window to the city.

“Look, Henry, I-,” you began again, but then henry cut you off.

“That day in New York those weeks ago, I should have plain and simply laid it out for you. I should have told you everything. I was with Francesca--.”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t. I honestly don’t want to know.”

“But you need to know. There is no way you can begin to trust me or begin to let yourself gravitate to me the way you’re entire being wants until you know,” Henry slid out. Pressing your palm to your abdomen, you tried to slow the butterflies that began flitting.

“I was with Francesca for about two years. The whole time I knew she wanted a family in life. She was always vocal about her wanting to get married young and have kids. I knew, but I never paid attention to it. I was away filming something for a while, and when I came home one weekend, I caught her with someone else.”

Your eyes widened, hearing his words.

“turns out she was beginning a relationship with someone else, someone who she thought would lead to marriage and kids,” Henry added. His voice held steady, but you could imagine the pain going through those memories again.

“I’m sorry.”

Henry shook his head, “It’s not necessary. After a few months of her trying to make amends, I thought we’d try again.” He scoffed then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m a hopeless romantic. After months of trying, I knew it wouldn’t work, but I kept a relationship of sorts with her.”

You understood. They were bed buddies.

“I then met Abby, and what started as a fling developed into something more. Long story short, I got wind of a rumor she was using me for fame and money, so I distanced myself from her. after some time of her telling I had it all wrong, I decided it was easier keeping her around though my heart wasn’t in it. I wasn’t juggling them. I hadn’t slept with either of them in a long time. I just—I felt it was better to have someone who misses me and wants me than living the lonely actor life.”

His honesty had you frozen. When he began to explain, you hadn’t expected him to reveal so much. You expected a bare minimum explanation, but what you’d gotten revealed so much more about him. You felt bad.

“I guess allowing the attentions and affections to remain is just as bad as juggling them. I was playing with their hearts. I’m not proud of it.”

Henry dipped his head, showing he felt some shame for his actions.

“When I met you, I realized although I had these two women sort of vying for me, I was still lonely, but those moments we were together, I didn’t feel alone. I felt--,” he paused as if trying to find the right word. His hesitation made you look down.

You knew what you’d felt.

“When I met you, I felt someone I’d never felt before, something I don’t fully understand. I don’t know what that means, but I know I want to find out—with you.”

Finally, able to release the breath you held, you took another, then cleared your throat. “I’m not juggling two guys. I was dating two guys, but not sleeping with both. I was with Liam first, and we had an okay relationship. We were busy, never saw each other and when we did it wasn’t for long. He um—he got annoyed and broke up with me. He said I was impacting his work, and he needed to focus.”

You remembered how he’d said it too. He’d said it like you were the one to blame for the roles he’d gotten or hadn’t gotten.

“I was fine with it, and during those five months apart, I met Jesse. We worked together and had fun and began dating. It wasn't anything sexual. Then Liam comes back and wants to pick up where we left off. I told him about Jesse, and he was fine with it.”

The shock on Henry’s face almost made you laugh. Alicia and Amaya were also surprised they’d chosen that unconventional path. Amaya, of course, thought you should have kept it secret from both of them.

“One day, Jesse sees Liam and me out, and it pissed him off enough to end things. Three weeks later, I lay it out for both that I don’t want to choose, and I don’t want anything serious. They were both fine with it, and so it went on. Six months later, I decided I needed to be on my own to focus on work and me. They didn’t like the decision. They call and text me to try to—rekindle something.”

Henry scoffed, and you watched a soft smile tickle his lips.

“I haven’t physically seen either of them in weeks, now maybe months,” you finished.

Henry was quiet for a few seconds before he snorted.

“They were mad.”

“Angry?”

“No, mad, bonkers,” Henry clarified.

“Oh, crazy.”

“Yeah. To be okay to share you, be willing to do something like that. I couldn’t do that,” Henry informed, making you smile in the process.

“Well, men do crazy things.”

“I can attest to that, but I’d never do something that crazy. I can’t share what’s mine. I won’t.”

Your eyes locked, and your body swayed toward his. It was like he was metal and you a magnet. Everything in you wanted to be close to him. The more you tried to fight the pull, the harder it became to breathe. The harder it was to breathe, the dizzier you became.

“I—I—I—I,” you began before gulping the knot in your throat down that was making you speak in a raspy whisper. “I don’t—know what this is.”

Henry nodded.

“I am not used to not knowing and being out of control,” you continued.

“You feel less controlled too?”

You couldn't help but to nod. Once you did, Henry took a step to you. You took a step back.

“Hold on. I like control. I like control a lot. Anything that threatens that control is not for me.”

Henry’s eyes lowered but only for a moment before he was looking right back into yours.

“But—I really want to find out why you make me less controlled,” you finally admitted.

The uncertainty on his face spoke volumes. “What does that mean? Where does that leave this—us?”

You chewed your bottom lip; you realized how ill-prepared you’d been.

“Honestly, I didn’t think this meeting out that far. I only planned up to when you showed up. I’ve um—I’ve been winging it this whole time.”

His smile started small but spread wide in seconds; then, he laughed loudly.

“So you won’t mind me making a plan?”

Oh lord, you thought, feeling his alpha pop out. You bit your bottom lip again.

“What kind of plan?”

Henry closed the remaining space between you. Every step he took had you shaking even more.

“A plan that I’ve envisioned every night since brunch.”

Stopped in front of you and held you captivated by his gaze and the sheer dominating energy rolling off of him. The way he stood there taller than you made your mouth run dry.

“Jesus, you’re freakishly short,” Henry teased in his perfect Englishman voice.

Smiling, you shook your head. “I know, I debated wearing heels but didn’t—I wanted you to see me normal for someone reason I don’t under--.”

Henry’s sudden movement cut you off. He dipped down the entire foot he overshadowed you and lifted you into the air to hold you flush against his body. Then he lowered his lips to yours, taking and keeping control of an intensely passionate kiss. A kiss you hadn’t known you craved until it began, a kiss you were not prepared for. You moaned against his lips, and that moan triggered his. Wrapping your arm around his neck, you clung to him, and every sensation you were feeling and even new ones he was awakening within you.

Slowly, Henry pulled his lips from your, but he kept your body to his. You kept your eyes closed, relishing the lingering effects.

“You’re shaking,” Henry whispered.

“So are you.”

You opened your eyes and gazed into his as he slowly lowered you back to your feet.

“What else is part of your plan?”

Henry's smile spread across his face. “For me to carry out any other part of my plan would be completely rakish of me.”

His smile was adorable, but still intimidatingly sexy.

“I take it you’re not a rake.”

“Not in the least.”

“All right. So, alternate plan?”

He smiled again. “Still pretty rakish.”

With that, he brought his lips back to yours, but this time he didn’t pull back for several long minutes.

Though you knew people in high places, it didn’t mean you could keep the eye open all morning. After three trips around, the two of you got off then walked around London holding hands and eating ice cream. It was such a weird sensation allowing someone to hold your hand. It had been a long time since you’d ever wanted to. The entire time you laughed and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. One thing was clear; neither of you was in any rush for your time together to end.

But end, it had to. When Henry walked you back to your hotel, it was almost time for the sun to come up.

“Home safe and sound,” Henry joked.

“Yes, thanks to Superman.”

“No, no, I’m just the man. Henry Cavill.”

He held his hand out to you. Smiling, you rolled your eyes.

“Now is when we get to this?”

His goofy smile and shrug had your head skip a beat.

“Aliya Taylor,” you said, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you. Mind if I call you Aliya or Liya, that's all a mouthful,” Henry teased.

Your laugh was loud, and you had to clamp your hand over your mouth, remembering what time it was.

“Yes, you can call me either. Can I call you Henners or Hank?”

“No. My friends call me that.”

“So, I’m not your friend?”

“If I have anything to say about it, which I do, then no. I don’t want you as a friend.” Henry replied, making you smile like a little girl at Christmas.

“Then what do you want me as?”

Your eyes lingered for a few seconds before Henry was pulling you closer to brush the back of his hand against your cheek.

“For now, I’ll settle for my girlfriend.”

The man was an expert at charm. You bit into your bottom lip and tried to stop smiling. “Girlfriend, wow. That’s a loaded title. What does it entail?”

“Well, for one, it entails being your true self with me, accepting my true self, being there for me when I need you, letting me be there for you when you need me or when I need you, allowing me to be your strength when you’re weak, your hope when you’re hopeless. Allowing me to grow with you, learn with you. Giving me your time and attention, enough of it so what we have can grow. Trusting me and letting me spoil you rotten.”

If he weren’t holding you against him, you would have fallen back.

“Is that all?”

Henry leaned closer kisses your cheek. “To begin.”

“And if I refused to be this girlfriend you speak of?”

“Then I’d just have to convince you,” Henry cooed.

“How?”

Right on que, Henry dipped his lips to yours. The second they touched, you moaned and held him close. Why resist when you could enjoy it, you thought. His tongue swirled with yours before he nibbled then sucked your bottom lip. When he pulled back, your eyes remained closed.

“I’m convinced.”

Henry pecked your lips once, then twice. “Good. Girlfriend.”

Your eyes locked again, and you forgot all common sense for what felt like an eternity.

“Eh-em—I have to be on a set in the morning.”

“Which is now,” Henry filled in.

Still hazed in the brain, you stuttered and smiled like a fool.

“Mm, did I stay out all night?”

“You did. I hope it was worth it.”

Smiling, you kissed his jaw. “We’ll see,” you whispered as you backed away from him, making your way to the door.

“Good morning, Henry.”

He smiled again, watching you disappear inside the hotel. As you walked to the elevator bank, you couldn’t stop smiling or stop the butterflies that had been flying all night in your stomach. As you stepped onto the elevator and watched the doors closed, you recognized the feeling you felt as happiness. It had been absent for a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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sunkissedspider · 5 years ago

Text

Clean | Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary: while you guys are alone, you walk in on Peter and you want to help...

warnings: smut, language, fluff, etc.

word count: 2.6k+

a/n: sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!!

You and Peter have always been best friends, as long as you could remember. May, or Aunt May, what you’ve grown accustomed to calling her, and your parents have been besties for years. She helped them when they first moved into the sweet little apartment in Queens.

Your parents had left for an anniversary vacation a few days after Aunt May had to go on a business trip. You live on the floor below Peter's, so you and him would always sneak over to each other's apartments when the adults were home. Now that they were gone, you and Peter were together practically 24/7.

One night you entered the apartment through Peter's window, quickly doing your secret knocking pattern to let him know that you were there. He didn't answer, but you saw a light coming out from under the bathroom door, so you assumed he was just taking a shower. You walk from his room into the kitchen to grab some snacks, your sweatpants clinging to different places of your body loosely, your socks padding against the floor lightly as you adjust the strings of your sweatshirt. You head over to the fridge and pour yourself a glass of lemonade and then grab an apple from the fruit bowl. You sit down at one of the bar stools and pull out your phone, consuming the food slowly.

Your peace was quickly disrupted when you heard what sounded to you, at first, like a pained groan coming from the bathroom. It was loud enough to be heard over the running water of the shower and the quiet music playing from your phone as you read through one of Aunt May's many interesting books.

You went back to reading and snacking, assuming that the noise was probably just your imagination running wild in the quiet apartment.

But then you heard it again, this time followed by a quick, quiet whimper. You dismissed the sounds again, going back to the book. What was it about again? Oh, yes. Vampires... or was it werewolves? Maybe it was both.

“Y/N…”

Alright, that's it! That was your name, you knew it! You walk over to Peter's bathroom door, listening closely. You hear more moans and whimpers and calls of your name.

You open the door slowly and carefully, the room filled with steam from the hot water cascading through the air in the shower.

"Fuck, Y/N!” Peter groaned loudly, his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. His hand was moving painfully slow, stretching the skin back and forth. When he said your name, you could've sworn that he had seen you, but he didn’t seem to notice you standing by the door.

You saw him start to speed up the movements of his hands, trying to look away from the sight of your lewd best friend masturbating to the thought of you in the shower, but not being able to bring your eyes away from him. He looked incredible; he hair wet and messy, falling over his forehead in small clumps, droplets of water dripping all over his body, your eyes landing on his torso where the water was getting caught in the divots of his soft skin.

"Peter..." You say, trying to get his attention, not really knowing if you want to look at him in the eyes right now.

He says nothing at the mention of his name, he just groans louder.

"Petey?" You say his name again, trying to get him to acknowledge you.

"Fuck, Y/N! Say my name again. Yes, fuck!" He says, thinking that it's all in his imagination.

"Peter!" You finally yell, surely getting his attention. His head snaps up to you, his eyes wide with fear and cheeks red with embarrassment.

“Y/N! Oh, my god! What are you doing here?" He screams, covering his painfully hard cock with his hands after turning the water off.

"Muh-muh-movie night. Remember?" You say, bringing Peter back to the conversation you both had earlier on the subway home. He realized that he wasn't even listening during that talk, he was just thinking about how he would get rid of this boner that had been straining in his pants for hours.

"I-I... Shit!" Peter hissed, slapping himself across the forehead. "Juh-Just let me get dressed and I'll be out in a minute.”

"'M sorry, Petey…” You close the door, walking into the kitchen and living room area, stifling giggles. You know that it's not supposed to be funny, and it's not, but you always laugh when something like this happens. Not that this specifically has ever happened before, but when you walk in on your other friends doing things with their partners, it's always a little funny.

You go to the cupboard and grab a bag of popcorn and put it in the microwave. As you’re grabbing two sodas from the fridge, Peter comes out of his room, wearing light grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He sits down on the couch, turning the volume up on the television, not looking at you or speaking to you.

You grab the popcorn which you had transferred into a bowl and take the drinks with you to the couch. You hand Peter a soda and he mutters a quick "Thanks." Before turning to look away from you again. You snuggle up in one of the many decorative throw blankets that Aunt May has. And soon, you fall asleep. You wake up with your head on Peter's right thigh, facing the t.v., your hand next to your face but up slightly. You feel around and your hand touches something hard.

"Uhm, Y/N?” Peter asks, brushing your hair back behind your ear.

"Yeah, Peter?" You reply, turning your head towards him.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I just... I don't know. I was just horny and I had been hard all day and... movie night just slipped my mind. But that's not even the worst part! You walked in on me, ya know, saying your name and stuff. But, I-I..." Peter managed to stutter out, looking incredibly embarrassed. His face red and sweaty.

"Peter... Are you still hard?" You say after sitting up, looking down at his sweatpants, your hand on his right thigh. You and Peter had always been close, and you two always talk about super personal stuff, but... this is the farthest it's ever gone. You both talk about masturbation and sex and all of that, but it's never gone to the point where you’ve walked in on him or he's walked in on you.

"I-, uh. Well… yes?" He says, the answer being more of a question than a statement.

"You know, Peter... I could... help." You say, looking up at him quizzically.

"W-what?!" He answers, looking shocked, his mouth open a small bit and his eyes wide.

"If you want me to, Peter. But, I definitely wouldn't mind helping you take care of your... big problem here." You say, looking at him dead in the eyes, excitement growing in you.

"Ok..." Peter says, looking at you with lust filled eyes. "O-only if you want to... I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Trust me, Peter... I'm perfectly comfortable."

You lean over to him and kiss him. Softly at first, but with growing heat and want. After you leave his lips, your lips travel down his jawline and neck, sucking softly on the skin to give it light purple marks. A few moans and even a few girly sounding whimpers leave his throat involuntarily. You remove your lips for a second, taking off the thin, tight black t-shirt. You stare at his bare chest for a few seconds before going in for another kiss. You bite and kiss up and down his chest and lower stomach, carefully palming him through his bottoms. Your lips come down to the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Have you ever done this before? You're really, really good at it." Peter asks, looking down at you, a big, crazy grin on your face from wanting to do this for so long.

"No, never. I just watch a lot of porn when I get bored. I'm a big virgin, Peter. You know this. And, last time I checked, you were too?" You ask, knowing that you’d be a little heart broken if he had done anything like this with another girl.

"I-I haven't even kissed a girl before a few minutes ago, Y/N. But, fuck, I'm so glad that it's you that’s doing this." He says. You lift yourself off of the floor for a second, bringing your lips to his.

You kiss back down his body until you’re at his waistband again. He lifts his hips up for a second so that you can take his pants off for him. His cock springs against his lower stomach, the tip leaking with precum. Your mouth starts to water at the sight of Peter fully naked for you. He looked big in the shower, but now that he's close to you, fuck! He's huge! You grasp the base of his cock, hearing him let out a little moan from the bare contact. As you’re on your knees again, you use your tongue to gather the precum that’s coming out of his rock-hard member. You take the head in your mouth and start sucking lightly, Peter moaning from above you. You remove your mouth and lick a stripe up his dick before taking as much of him as you can into your mouth, hearing him curse and groan above you. You use your left hand, that's on his right thigh, to stabilize yourself, using your other hand to pump the rest of his cock that you can't fit into your mouth. You bob your head up and down, Peter's hands coming into your hair to help you go at a faster, steadier pace. He makes a makeshift ponytail with his right hand, him helping you to bob your head even faster. You can feel his cock twitching in your throat, causing you to moan. You squeeze his balls lightly with your left hand, hearing him groan loudly. When your tongue dances on the tip of his cock, he whimpers softly in response, making him seem almost innocent in this heated moment.

"Oh- Shit! Fuck! Y/N, I'm close-" He groans from above you, his head going back from the pleasure. "God, you look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth, baby."

You double your speed and your efforts, wanting him to feel as much pleasure as possible. And, soon enough, his cock twitches in your mouth and you can feel his hot cum coating your throat. He moans loudly, so loud that you’re pretty sure your neighbors can hear. You take your mouth off of his cock with a satisfying 'pop'. He lays there for a second, his chest heaving and sweaty. He grabs a tissue from the tissue box on one of the end tables and is about to hand it to you until he realizes that you already swallowed all of the cum that just came out of him.

"Oh, fuck." He mutters under his breath, kissing you deeply. He can taste himself on your tongue and, for some reason, that turns him on even more.

"Fu- Peter!" You scream and giggle as he picks you up from the floor and switches your places, you now being on the couch and Peter being on the floor, his head in between your legs.

You moaned lightly as Peter kissed you after moving up your body then started sucking on your neck, lifting your sweatshirt off and removing your bra. He stayed still for a moment, staring at your bare chest. His lips attached to your breasts, nipping and kissing at the soft skin.

"Peter..." I breathed out when his tongue started to swirl around my nipples, making them hard as rocks.

Peter kissed down your stomach, leaving a kiss right above the waistband of your sweatpants, causing a small whimper to leave your lips. You tell him quietly to do something, so he deftly unties the string of your bottoms, lifting your hips up so he can drag them down, moaning out loud at the fact that you don't have underwear on. You moan loudly when he unexpectedly licks a bold stripe up your heat.

"You taste like fucking candy." He moans, dipping his head back to your throbbing pussy and taking another lick. You and Peter are both completely inexperienced with stuff like this, the both of you doing these things off of what you’ve seen in porn and on instinct, but you both seem like naturals.

This time he drags a finger from your breasts all the way down to where you need him the most, his finger tracing your entrance. You groaned loudly as he pushed his finger inside of you, his tongue swirling around your clit. Your hips bucked sporadically from the intense feelings of pleasure that you were feeling, causing Peter to practically restrain you with his one of his forearms on your lower stomach, and, somehow, the pressure of his strong grasp caused you to moan louder.

"Holy shit, Peter!" You moan out loudly. "I'm so close, don't stop!"

After you say that, Peter doubles his efforts, his only goal right now is making you cum. After a few more pumps of his slender fingers and a few more laps of his tongue, your orgasm crashes over you in violent waves. You’re practically screaming as your legs close around Peter's head, one hand tightly in his brown curls and the other grasping a cushion of the couch behind you.

After a few moments, you bring your head down so you can meet Peter's big, brown eyes. When you finally look at his face, you see the biggest smile spread across it.

"That was incredible." He giggles, his tongue dancing across part of his chin to gather the rest of your cum.

"Yeah... it was." You reply, your eyes closing, the tiredness finally sinking in.

Peter got up off of the floor, joining you on the couch. He moves you so that you’re cuddled up against his chest, pulling a throw blanket over you both. You breathe in against his chest, his scent engulfing you. His plants small kisses against the top of your head as he sighs.

"I think we should talk about this..." You gulped, moving your head up to meet his eyes. "I don't think it's normal for best friends to do stuff like this. So, I- uh, I guess what I'm trying to say is that, well... will you, ya know, be my girlfriend?" Peter asks, his cheeks heating up from the fear of rejection.

"Fucking finally, Peter!" You exclaim, moving so that you can plant a long, passionate kiss against his soft lips.

"So... that's a yes?" He smiles, looking at you excitedly.

"It's an absolutely." You smile back, feeling so lucky that you’re finally getting to date your best friend, the guy you’ve been thinking about constantly for years.

"God, I'm so lucky!" He exclaims, placing another kiss on your lips.

As you two start to make out even more, Peter flips you over, your head deftly landing against the surface of the couch. Within the following minutes, you feel something hard prod against your inner thigh.

"Hmm, I think you have a friend." You giggle out, looking down at Peter's new erection.

"Round two?" Peter questions, a big smirk on his face.

And with that, the whole night was spent in complete bliss. Well, until Aunt May got back from her trip early...

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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thegirlintheswivelchair · 4 years ago

Text

More Than We Hoped - Ch. 2

Summary: The Daily Bugle drags Spiderman, Tony forces Peter to come up to the compound, and that black haired man packs a punch.

Word count: +6.6k

Warnings: violence, injury, blood, angst...to be honest I think that’s it for this chapter

A/N: OK so I am actually really nervous to put this chapter out. It feels a little different from what I usually do. It felt like the story took on a life of its own, and also...this is all Peter. Y/n is not in this chapter. However, I am gonna have her in the next chapter quite a bit, so hopefully that will make up for it!! Anyways...I hope you enjoy this!

(Oh and this starts off directly after chapter 1!)

series masterlist | main masterlist

——

Still Saturday

Peter sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone, “Hey, Tony.”

“Yeah, you’ve already said hello. Got anything else to say?” Tony’s voice deadpanned over the other line. It was sassy, but Peter could tell that he wasn’t necessarily in trouble...yet.

“I just woke up, what else did you want me to say?” Peter said off-handedly. He really wasn’t awake enough to handle where Tony wanted to take this conversation. Plus, he really did not know what was going on.

“I don’t know, you tell me? Why did I wake up this morning to see Spiderman’s name in a trending article from the Daily Bugle?”

“Would you believe me if I said, ‘I don’t know?’” Peter asked.

“Not really, no.” Again, Tony didn’t seem annoyed, but Peter couldn’t help but feel he might be getting a lecture somewhere down the line.

“Honestly, Tony, I haven’t even had time to read the article.” Peter responded evenly.

Tony let out a sigh, “It’s not great, Pete. Whatever you did on patrol last night—they’re spinning it like you lost control, and the guy is in the hospital because of you.”

“What?” Peter said in shock, “Hold on…”

Taking the phone away from his ear, he put Tony on speaker, so he could bring up the article to read.

The same twinge of foreboding that had hit him earlier came back as he read the headline again:

IS HE REALLY OUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPIDERMAN? Masked Vigilante involved in near lethal apprehension of defenseless substance abuser.

Clicking the article’s link to read more, he was greeted with a photo of his superhero alter ego. The photo showed Spiderman looking like he was being cornered in an alleyway. One of his hands was lifted urging whoever was in front of him to calm down, while the other was gesturing to the heaped form behind him. Anyone looking at it could see it was a body sprawled out on the ground, but the image was such bad quality barely any details were discernible.

His eyes went quickly to read the beginning of the article:

In the early morning hours last night, distress calls were phoned in by a number of residents of the Bright Valley Apartments. They were alerting authorities of a violent disturbance in the alleyway next to their building between Spiderman and a nondescript man.

The recorded calls are still not available to the public, but an eyewitness says the man seemed frantic and was lashing out. They said Spiderman struck the man a number of times until the victim was incapacitated.

When authorities arrived at the scene, Spiderman was still present before webbing his way out of the situation without properly debriefing the authorities that came to the site. It is unclear what the masked vigilante’s intentions were with the victim that has now been identified as Wayne Campbell, who has been known to use drugs. Campbell is now in the hospital with severe internal injuries and is in critical condition.

More was said underneath, but Peter had already seen enough. The feeling of foreboding deepened into a sloshing mess of worry, hurt pride, and a sense of sadness. There was too much misinformation and exploited truths in the first few paragraphs alone for Peter to say it was anything but what it was...

“They-They wrote a slander piece about me…” He said softly, switching the phone back to normal and bringing it up to his ear.

“Looks that way...Sorry, kiddo.” Tony said in a similarly soft tone before continuing, “Know anyone you’ve pissed off lately?”

“No one I can think of,” Peter responded in a sort of mumble after sitting quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Thought you might say that. That’s why I sent Happy to grab you and bring you back to the compound, so we can get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, how about you catch me up on what Spiderman’s been getting up to.”

“What? No—Tony, I can’t just make a trip out to the compound!” Peter exclaimed.

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve got...” Peter paused. He felt he was needed here, but with his brain still stuck on the article he didn’t say that. Instead what came out was, “...homework.” He finished, closing his eyes knowing how lame that excuse was.

“Yeah, that hasn’t worked for the last 12 years, not gonna work now.” Tony said matter-of-factly.

Without missing a beat, Peter quipped back, “Technically, I didn’t get to use that excuse for 5 years. So really it’s only been 7.”

“Uncalled for,” Tony said. If they had been in the lab together, Peter could imagine that his mentor would be pointing a wrench at him and raising his eyebrows to emphasize the point that he was hurting the old man. A small smile tugged at the corner of Peter’s mouth at the thought.

“So, you gonna tell me what really happened?”

The question sobered Peter quickly, making him momentarily forget about going to the compound. He blew air between pursed lips, his cheeks puffing out. “Whatever is happening is so screwed up, Tony…” Peter said quietly.

“It always is.” Tony said this with such sincerity Peter could almost hear the memories coming to life in the retired superheroes head. Tony cleared his throat and spoke up again, “Just start at the beginning.”

“Yeah, Ok.” Peter breathed out, and he began telling the story of the last 3 nightmarish nights he’d spent patrolling.

It took 45 minutes before Peter was getting to the details of last night. To his surprise, Tony had let Peter talk without much interruption, only small clarifications here and there and a hum to show he was paying attention.

Once he finally went quiet Tony spoke up, “And you haven’t found any connection between the 3 victims?”

“Not yet, I haven’t had time—” Peter was cut off by another call coming in. Looking at the contact, he saw it was Happy. He’s seriously making me go to the compound? No questions asked?

Sighing and not hiding his frustration, Peter quickly said ��I gotta take this, it’s Happy.” He didn’t wait for a reply before accepting the new call. “Hey, Happy,” he said, adopting a much lighter tone than a second ago.

“Peter, where are you? I’ve been waiting outside for the last 15 minutes.” Happy said in a familiarly gruff greeting.

“Crap, you’re already here? Sorry, Happy. I’ll be right down.” Peter said as he jumped up from his spot on the bed and hung up the phone. He began grabbing at random clothes around the room, hoping they were clean, and throwing them on.

Soon, all that was left for him to do was find his other shoe. Shouldn’t be too hard right? Wrong. He turned over everything. At one point he even stood on the ceiling thinking a new angle would help him—It didn’t. Just as he was starting to get really frustrated, he found it hiding in the corner of his room where he could have sworn he’d looked at least three times before.

“Ah-ha!” He cheered triumphantly. The victory was short-lived when his phone began to blow up with texts from Happy. Each one getting steadily more grumpy in how they said he needed to get his ass moving and down to the car right now.

So in a chaotic blur of motion, Peter grabbed his lone shoe, his backpack, a granola bar from on top of his mini fridge, and jogged out of his room with only one shoe on.

As he made his way down his hallway, his phone rang for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. He picked it up without looking at the contacts name, and answered, “I know Happy, I’m on my way down right now. Couldn’t find my shoe.”

“See, I keep telling you to put trackers in them, but do you listen?” Came Tony’s amused voice over the other line.

Even though he had not expected his mentor's voice on the phone, Peter smirked and shot back, “Says the old man that can’t find the wrench that’s still in his hands.”

“That was one time!” Tony’s voice said defensively before changing the subject, “So you haven’t left with Happy yet, I take it?”

“Just getting out to his car.” Peter said, walking into his dorm’s elevator.

“Uh-huh. While, you’re on your way up, try and think through what might be similar to each incident. We’ll use that while going through the info your suit gathered during patrol.”

“Speaking of—Tony, I need to be back by tonight to go patrolling again. I need to be there for the next person that gets affected by this thing.”

“Yeah, no can do, Underoos.” Tony said. It was said with a casual finality, even off-handed in a way, and it irked Peter for some reason.

“What do you mean?” He said slightly annoyed as he left the elevator.

When he neared the door leading outside, he realized he was still not wearing his other shoe having been so distracted by Tony. He put his granola bar in his mouth, and began moving in a way he knew was not even remotely graceful as he tried to keep forward momentum and put his shoe on at the same time.

“There’s too much heat around the situation now, Pete. You need to stay away for awhile.” Tony broke through Peter’s concentration of staying upright as he barreled through the door to the outside.

Once he managed to get the shoe on, Peter paused for a second to take a bite out of his granola bar before moving again. He answered his mentor with a hard tone, “I can’t just drop this, Tony!”

“The media has gotten involved. That automatically makes this trickier. It’s important to tread carefully now.”

“I know I need to be careful,” Peter groaned out, “But I feel really close to a breakthrough! I just need a few more nights of recon. Please—”

“You have any leads?” Tony cut him off before he could keep talking.

Peter faltered before replying. He really didn’t have any leads, and it was clear Tony knew that. He had just hoped that train of thought would work on Tony, and he would be allowed to patrol. “I mean—no, not really.” Peter said quietly, opting for honesty in this moment.

He heard Tony sigh, “We need to be smart. This isn’t a recon-then-action type of mission anymore.”

Peter had made it to the sleek black car that would take him to the compound. Pausing in front of the passenger side, one hand on the door’s handle, Peter started talking, “I know, Tony, but these people—”

Tony cut him off again, “The answer is still no. We’ll talk more when you get here.”

The annoyance that had been simmering under Peter’s skin throughout the whole conversation, sparked at that moment. “Fine,” He snapped, and hit the phone’s red ‘End’ button. Opening the car door with a particular amount of aggression, he slid into the seat with a huff.

Happy immediately began pulling away from the curb as soon as the door shut. A sour silence fell over the two figures, with Peter staying silent and glaring out his window. The other, usually more grumpy, older man glanced at Peter frequently as they made their way upstate. Peter felt the stare each time, knowing the older man was trying to get a read on him as he quietly brooded.

Over the many years they had been in each other’s lives both had gotten relatively good at reading each other. In this particular situation, it was obvious Peter was frustrated about something, but he knew Happy was trying to piece together what might be annoying him.

“Tony did something again, didn’t he?” Happy’s voice finally broke the silence.

“You could say that,” Peter muttered.

“Whatever he did, I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Peter had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, Happy didn’t deserve that. “Happy, no offense, but I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ok, fair enough.” Happy conceded easily. The rest of the drive was silent, only the soft sounds of music were heard.

When the car rounded the tree lined bend that led up to the compound, Peter’s emotions did a bit of a dance. He always loved seeing this building. It was a symbol of something so much bigger than himself, even bigger than him as Spiderman. Excitement always sparked in his gut as he thought about what and who it held inside and all the inner workings that even he didn’t fully understand yet. The weight of its purpose was inspiring while also being rightfully intimidating. Peter had yet to shake the feelings of being inadequate when thinking about it all. No matter how much he had wanted it, he couldn’t stop wondering if he was good enough to be an Avenger, of being a part of the moving pieces that title gave him power in, and what it meant to protect the world. He was just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman after all.

Today, though, that wash of emotions was dampened by his frustration over why he was here to begin with. He felt like Tony was calling him here to keep an eye on him. Like he didn’t trust him, and it stung.

After the car pulled up to the giant glass doors of the side entrance, Peter said a hasty goodbye to Happy, got out and slammed the door shut a bit harder than necessary. He bounded up to the door, and stepped into the building.

Almost immediately, Friday, Tony’s AI, greeted him with an even tone “Hello, Peter. Should I let Boss know you are here?”

“Tell him I’ll be down in a sec.” Peter answered, but instead of going directly to the lab, he made his way to the large communal kitchen to make himself a sandwich.

Friday’s voice came through the silence of the kitched “Boss is asking for you to come down to the lab.” The AI paused then added, “He says to just bring the food with you.”

Peter rolled his eyes, Tony knew him a little too well sometimes. Taking a massive bite his sandwich, he grabbed his plate and started his way down to the lab.

When he turned into the large state of the art lab, he was greeted with a view of Tony’s back.

Since Thanos, Tony had changed from what he had looked like during his active days as Iron Man. It wasn’t for the worse, he had simply changed, gotten older. His hair had gotten distinctly more salt and peppered, even more than when Peter had been remade after the snap. The wrinkles around his eyes had gotten more prominent, and they highlighted the smile he’d started wearing more often now that he was a father and genius mechanic rather than a superhero holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He also had a prosthetic arm, a constant reminder of the day he saved the galaxy. When you could see it, it was a surprisingly tame color—a dark charcoal grey. “You can wear it with anything,” Tony had joked when asked why it wasn’t bright red. It still held Iron Man’s trademark colors of red and gold in its details, with a bright blue light filling out the crevices or other details that the nanotechnology didn’t cover. The scars from the wound that traced their way across his skin came up his neck and stretched up around his ear and cheek. Anything else around his shoulders and chest was usually covered by a shirt, unless he was in his tank top fixing his cars, or swimming at his house in the woods.

The biggest difference for Peter though, was the softness that had taken over Tony. He was certainly still the cocky, confident man he’d always been, but he didn’t hold himself that way anymore as a suit of armor. Now that confidence was worn as a person slowly working on their monsters and ever so subtly finding hope in who they actually are. It was a softness that came with years of therapy and walking through it all with good friends and family. Peter was proud of Tony for that, and was grateful he got to be a part of it.

Currently, Tony was in a basic long sleeve black shirt pulled back to his elbows and his usual chop-shop jeans that were filled with grease and other stains.

With his back to the door, he was surrounded by three different holographic projections. One was the schematics and details of Peter’s Spiderman suit. Another was a news feed scrolling and continuously playing any news that might be relevant to his search, and the last one had numbers, graphs, and other data that Peter quickly realized was the data from his suit.

The suit, while being his, and even his own design, was still hooked up to the main Stark “cloud” that Tony had created for everything that held Stark technology. That meant Tony could bring up anything he wanted from Peter’s suit.

At any other time, this would have annoyed Peter, maybe even offended him. The two of them had talked at length about the Baby Monitor protocol, and over the last 4 years had slowly lessened it all so that Peter could be his own person, having complete control over the responsibility he had as a superhero. Tony had promised to no longer check the data or videos on his suit unless Peter let him, or asked him to. For this particular moment, even in Peter’s already frustrated state, he knew there had been an unspoken agreement that Tony would help. That meant he would look into these details. So Peter let it slide, and while taking another enormous bite of his sandwich, he walked up to Tony’s side and asked with a mouthful, “Found anything interesting?”

Tony turned his face towards him with both eyebrows raised quietly asking the parental question of ‘really? while eating?’ to which Peter gave a noncommittal shrug to say ‘yup’. Tony lips twitched with amusement, and he turned back to the projections, answering, “No, not yet. Was waiting for you actually.”

Swallowing the bite, Peter said, “I think we should get Friday working on whether or not the three victims have anything in common with each other. Then you and I can look through the surveillance Karen saved through my mask’s camera and see if there is anything we can see for clues or leads.”

Tony nodded, then said, “You heard him, Fri. Start seeing if there is anything to connect these people together, and please upload the videos from Peter’s suit so we can start watching them.

“What time frame do you want to focus on for the videos?” She responded.

“Let’s see, everything starting from Wednesday at the beginning of my patrol to the end of the last entry on Friday,” said Peter.

Friday didn’t respond. Instead, a new hologram popped up in front of the two men, and the first scenes of the surveillance videos began to play. They silently began to watch together while Peter finished his food.

Three hours later, the pair were now sitting in chairs, eyes slightly glazed from the amount of random footage they had already gone through. Peter tried not thinking about the fact they were still only on Wednesday night. They had fast forwarded through most of the early evening of that night, until right around when Peter remembered it all started.

When he heard Karen respond to something he said by saying, “You said never to call a night ‘calm’ because it tempts the universe,” he perked up in his chair and spoke out loud, “This is where my senses started going off before I heard the whimpering.”

The suit’s camera showed the vantage point on top of a building looking down at the still busy street below. “Pause the video,” Peter said. Getting up from his chair, he raised his hands to the image. With an outward wave from both hands he expanded the image to be twice the size it was before, essentially engulfing himself and Tony in the scene.

“My senses went off, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from. It was too hard to tell with so many people staring simply because I had swung overhead, but I know someone was staring for another reason.”

Tony looked at him questioningly, “You know when someone is staring at you for another reason?”

Peter nodded and shrugged, “Yeah, there’s a difference in someone staring innocently, and someone that is staring for another reason. I don’t know why, but I can feel the difference.”

Tony nodded slowly, and his face briefly flashed a ‘huh, neat’ face before he turned back to the image. “Friday, start scanning the faces and see if there are any that stand out. Let’s start with criminal records or anyone that Spiderman has dealt with directly.”

“Certainly.” Friday responded.

In the meantime, both men were staring at the screen seeing if, on intuition and instinct alone, they could pick anything up. After about 2 minutes, Friday spoke, “There are three different faces detected that have misdemeanor records, none of which are connected to Spiderman for their arrest nor their crime.”

The 3 faces showed up with their records next to them, and it was clear right away that none of them were who they were looking for. One had a public indecency charge, another was a DUI, and the last had the only genuine criminal record for assault, but it was from over 20 years ago.

Peter sighed at the news feeling disappointed, while Tony leaned in. “Friday, run the video and see if anyone stays focused on Peter when we know the whimpering started.”

The time between where the clip started and when the whimpering began was only a few seconds and it was impossible to truly focus on the faces with the way the camera whipped in the direction of the whimpering when Peter had heard it. The audio itself didn’t pick up on the whimper—it being too faint for the microphone—but it was clear enough when Peter had heard it. When nothing could be seen, Tony called for the frames to be slowed down to a shuttering frame by frame pace.

In the blinking frames that could be seen right before Peter’s head moved, only a few people had remained focused on the superhero. An old man who had been tending to his store front, a child staying planted in awe until his parent tugged him along, and a tall slim man with black hair, suit, and...a silver tie.

“Wait!” Peter blurted, “That guy, right there. I recognize him! I saw him last night.”

“Him?” Tony pointed at the blown up image of the man.

“Yeah, he was coming out of the alleyway right before I went to help the last victim.”

“Friday, you know what that means.” Tony said to his AI.

The silence lasted for only a moment before Friday was speaking to the room, “His name is Everett Mercury, age 25, born and raised in New York City.”

“Ok, can you tell us anything else about him?”

“Actually, boss, his file and any subsequent information that is regularly available or traceable for the average person is coming up blank. This lack of data would normally suggest all information for Mr. Mercury was wiped clean or is purposefully untraceable in most technological databases.”

“Well, I think that means we found our guy, what do you think, Pete?” Tony said, snapping his fingers together and spinning on his heels to look directly at Peter.

Peter gave a small absentminded nod as he only kind of heard Tony’s question. He was still glaring at the face in front of him, thinking. “Is he anywhere near the second location?”

Again, the silence filled the room until the AI spoke, “Based on my recognition software, there is no record of him being at the location of the second victim.”

Peter groaned,”Dang it!” all though he used entirely more colorful language in his head.

“That doesn’t mean that wanna-be-young-Keanu-Reeves here isn’t our guy.” Tony said lightly.

“No, but it doesn’t confirm it either. Plus, we don’t know anything about him,” Peter shot back.

“They don’t usually make it that easy for us.”

Peter knew Tony wasn’t trying to goad him. He wasn’t even trying to be condescending, but after the week he’d had, the fear of the unknown and the frustration that was just sitting at the bottom of his stomach mixed and boiled quickly. “No they don’t. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t hoping our first lead might have been a little less vague. What are we supposed to do with this information, Tony?” Peter said heatedly, whirling to face his mentor with a glare.

Tony met his stare with raised eyebrows and a slight cock of the head. “I’m sorry, did I miss something?” He looked into Peter’s eyes for a second, “Are you mad at me?”

“How does this help people, Tony? How does me sitting here with you, finding out this guy's name, in upstate New York, help anyone?” Peter said, not answering the question.

“Pete, this is only just the beginning. We’ve only been here—what? 3 hours?” Tony said, checking his watch.

“Yeah, and by the time I get back someone might already be infected by whatever-the-hell this is and could even be dead!”

Understanding washed over Tony’s features at Peter’s words. “You’re upset I said you couldn’t go patrolling.” It wasn’t a question. He had said it as its own confirmation.

“Have you watched any of these videos, Tony?” Peter said with quiet intensity pointing back at the projected image, “New York needs someone out there protecting them, and right now, no one is.”

Tony remained silent as he looked intently at Peter for a moment, his lips pushed up in thought. When he finally looked away, he gave a heavy sigh, and his hands came up in a loose shrug before he said, “Ok. You want to go out and patrol. Then I won’t stop you.”

“What?” Peter said slightly shocked, “You’re gonna let me go?” He was not expecting that reaction. He thought he would need to put up a fight, argue a bit more. Even then, he didn’t think Tony was going to allow him to go.

“Yeah. You want to patrol. I won’t stop you.” Tony said lightly.

Peter looked at Tony for a second, hesitating. His brows furrowed as he searched the man’s face. Something about Tony’s reaction bothered him, but he couldn’t think why. Why was that so easy? The thought was momentary, a sparked instinct to push for more information, but as soon as it came, it was swallowed up by the new thoughts of getting back to the city. If he could patrol, maybe he could do better reconnaissance, maybe even find the black haired man himself and question him.

“Uh, right.” Peter breathed out, “Then I’m gonna go.” He turned and started to leave the lab. Right when he got to the door, he looked back and saw Tony had already turned his back on him and was looking at each screen he had pulled up. He had started playing the frame-by-frame video again. His arms were crossed, and it was clear he was thinking and assessing everything he saw. Again, something in the back of Peter’s head told him he should stay, but he pushed it back stubbornly.

A couple hours later found Peter atop the lone skyscraper on campus. It was a massive clock tower that used to ring every hour with a real bell, but it had since been turned electronic, telling the time silently as it watched the students wander below. On nights when he needed to just think Peter would find himself up here, especially when he couldn’t be bothered making it to his usual favorite perches closer to the center of the city. Tonight, Peter was watching dusk settle over the city, thinking of a game plan for the night’s patrol.

Somehow, the other incidents had happened right where he was, no need to search far and wide. That left Peter with little direction as to where to start, but he still had to get moving. The shadows were growing, and that meant more alleys to hide in and go unnoticed.

Standing up, he shook himself loose, and flicked out his hand. His two middle fingers came to the base of his palm, tapping his web shooter to life. It responded with a string of web flying over to the next building, and just as Peter stepped off the tower, he spoke to his AI, “Karen, I want you to monitor for raised temperatures, and scan every face you can for Everett Mercury. Let’s make tonight worth it.”

“Initiating scanning parameters.” Karen confirmed.

As Peter swung, he felt his senses open up and his nerves coil like springs. The anticipation he held for finding another victim was growing, and he hated how afraid he was. It wasn’t just the fear of these people getting hurt. Frankly, that he could deal with. He’s had to deal with it. It was a responsibility of a superhero to deal with the fear of people getting hurt. No, he was afraid of seeing the side effects of this thing again. The glowing eyes, the pulsing veins, the shrill cry that comes with each victim—it was haunting. He was also afraid of holding another person in his arms as they fought whatever it was they were affected by. He didn’t know how many more people he could watch seize and drop into a comatose state.

He was uneasy, and he felt a little ashamed this thing had dug its claws into him so quickly, but the apprehension he didn’t want was still there all the same. With each flick of his wrist that carried him farther into the city, he tried to think of a way to turn that fear in his favor, but all he came up with was a sour and shaky form of adrenaline.

Much later into the night, Karen’s voice came out clear in Peter’s ear,“My scans show a man that fits the description of Everett Mercury by the ATM’s on the corner.”

Peter swung to the nearest rooftop, and upon crouching and turning around to look out at the four-way intersection he felt his senses buzz lightly. That annoying warning was back, and his skin crawled at the feeling. He spoke quietly to his AI, “Where is he?”

Before Karen could answer, Peter’s eyes found a black haired figure in a sharp suit standing motionless at the corner. When Peter found his eyes, he felt his stomach do a flip. The man was staring straight at him, unflinching and unfazed as their eyes met. His eyes were cold and dark, set within a face of stone. Each second felt stretched in time as Peter looked at him. He stood expectantly, like he had known Spiderman would be there, looking for him. As if to confirm the suspicion, a small smirk began to play itself on Mercury’s lips before he broke eye contact, turned and in a few steps, seemed to vanish into thin air.

“What? What was that?” Peter whispered harshly as he stared wide eyed at nothing, “no no no no!”

In a panic, he shot out a web, and launched himself down to the other side of the intersection. As he landed lightly on his feet where Mercury had been standing, he looked in all directions only to catch a glimpse of the dark suited figure slipping down a darkened road at the end of the street. Peter sprinted in that direction, and when he turned the corner he was met with more empty space.

What the hell?!

Scanning the area, Peter saw that he had run into a large empty courtyard. It was rundown, with pipes coming out haphazardly from the walls, concrete benches spotted the outskirts of the central space where the ground had broken and the cracks were growing grass and weeds. It was lit by a solitary orange street light that shone weakly at the entrance making shadows fall over the far side and its corners turn black.

As Peter squinted in the direction of those shadows, he saw a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Flicking a web in the direction of the movement, he knew he had caught nothing as it hit a pipe with a hard hollow sound.

He jerked his head in the direction of the movement, and felt his body crouch instinctively, muscles tightening, ready to launch into motion.

Another glimpse of movement, and another web that hit nothing.

“I know you're in here!” Peter spoke out into the courtyard. Still crouched with fists clenched, he felt his heart hammering in his chest, and adrenaline coursing through his body.

Peter tried to hone in on his spidey senses hoping to locate the man that way. He felt the familiar buzzing at the back of his head, but the warning felt like it was coming from more than one direction. There was nowhere that didn’t feel threatening, and his mind began to go fuzzy the longer he tried to focus on it. It was like white noise slowly getting louder as the threat started to close in like walls.

In the fog taking over his brain, Peter didn’t notice the air shimmering a few feet in front of him until Everett Mercury had materialized in front of him. The man stood towering over Peter’s crouched figure, a smirk still on his face.

As quickly as he had appeared, his body crouched and shot out a hand which connected with Peter’s sternum and sent him flying into the wall behind him. After the hit landed, he vanished into the darkness again.

A voice, low and smooth came from the dark, “I’m not the one you should be focusing on, Spiderman.”

The impact had knocked the wind from Peter’s lungs, and he slipped to the ground on all fours coughing. He tried to right his breathing quickly as he scrambled up and got into a ready stance again, saying breathily, “Oh, yeah? And your cloak and dagger thing is what, a party trick? Doesn’t exactly convince me you’re a good guy.”

Peter didn’t get an answer. Mercury appeared at his side and shoved him hard enough to make Peter stumble towards the center of the open space. Peter tried to correct his balance and figure out where his opponent might be coming from, but there was nothing but mental static.

“It’s not about me being good or bad. I just follow orders. You on the other hand...What are you doing to save all those helpless people?” The disembodied voice spoke casually. It sounded like it was circling the perimeter of the yard. “You’re wasting time, Spidey.”

Peter knew he was being baited, but that didn’t stop a spark of fear and anger to go through him at the thought of more victims. Fuck, please be bluffing.

“Why are you doing this?” Peter growled, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

“Why am I doing this?” The voice answered, amusement laced its deep tone, “I’m not doing anything. They seek us out.”

With the white noise still muffling his senses, Peter didn’t notice Mercury come up behind him until he was whispering in his ear, “They ask for it.”

Peter whirled around to see Mercury standing right in front of him. With a knee-jerk reaction, Peter shot out his fist, but he hit nothing as Mercury smoothly ducked out of the way. Peter pivoted to counter the dodge, but the dark haired man’s eyes flashed with an intensity that charged the air. It felt like the split second between when a fuse runs its course and the firework finally erupts. Except, Peter wasn’t ready for the explosion.

Mercury lunged forward, and swung his fists at Peter. First a straight cross, then an upper cut, then another jab. Mercury’s fists were flying, and each hit was made with a trained precision. The ferocity of the attack caught Peter off guard, and each blow was thrown with such brutal speed and power that he felt defenseless against them as they slowly pushed him backwards towards the wall.

Finally, a particularly harsh punch came and hit his face. Peter’s body gave him no choice but to drop to the ground dazed. He felt warm blood flow from his nose, and in the back of his head he guessed his nose might have been broken.

The other man, barely breathing heavy, stalked closer to Peter’s hunched figure, and mumbled something under his breath that Peter didn’t catch over the ringing in his ears. Then he picked Peter up by his shoulders and slammed him into a mess of pipes jutting from the wall behind him. A loud crack sounded, and pain radiated through Peter’s ribs as one of them broke on impact. His head rocked back into a lead pipe, and he felt the edge of yet another pipe’s broken opening cut into his skin because of the sheer force he was being pressed into it. Weakly, he tried and failed to squirm out of the other man’s grasp.

Mercury glared into Peter’s masked face and spoke in a low menacing voice, “You might not believe this, but what’s happening is for the better.” He looked between the two bright white eyes with cold intensity and growled, “Don’t fight this.”

He let go of Peter, who immediately slumped to the ground, and stepped back. Shadow engulfed Mercury’s figure once more, and he was gone.

Peter sat on the ground, clutching his torso, and trying to breath through the pain that was currently coursing through his body. It had been a while since he had been beaten up this badly, or been so taken by surprise. Why wouldn’t my spidey sense work? His pain addled brain couldn’t think of a reason just yet, and his main priority needed to be getting back to the dorms.

“Hey Karen, how far are we from campus?” Peter whispered out.

“You are currently 2 miles away.” The AI responded.

“Great,” He said a little high pitched, “I can do that. No problem.”

Shakily, he stood up and raised his arm to shoot out a web. The broken rib screamed in protest, but gritting his teeth against the pain, Peter shot and pulled himself into the air.

He must have blacked out as he swung back because Peter would not have been able to tell anyone how he managed to make it back to his dorm room that night. All he remembered was waking up on the floor during the very early hours of the day with Ned shaking him awake.

“Pete. Peter! You gotta wake up!” Ned’s voice was full of worry.

He groaned as his friend continued shaking him. He reached up his hand and swatted clumsily at the arm connected to the hand shaking his shoulder.

“Oh, thank god,” Ned sighed, “Dude, you’re a fucking mess. What the hell did you do tonight?”

Peter couldn’t form coherent thoughts just yet with the pain and disorientation his injuries were causing him, and just mumbled, “Patrol.”

“Yeah, figured that much out myself. I meant what happened to you?”

“Everett Mercury.” Peter said briefly, still trying to stop the spinning in his head.

“Whose that?” Ned asked curiously.

Just then, Peter’s phone began ringing and buzzing on his desk. Ned reached over Peter’s head and handed it to him. The screen’s brightness bit into Peter’s eyes and he flinched while making out the series of texts coming in from Tony.

Tony: We need to talk.

Tony: Mercury is enhanced and highly dangerous.

Tony: Do not engage with him. We need to make a plan

Too late, Tony... Peter thought as he felt each injury pulse in time with his heart.

There’s chapter 2! Please let me know any feedback you might have! I’d love to know if there are things you are hoping to see, or if you have any thoughts about the story in general. All reblogs are so incredibly appreciated! 💙❤️

Taglist (Let me know if you want to be added)

@cocoamoonmalfoy @empath-bunny @storybookholland @kassey @touchmethomas @greenorangevioletgrass @emilyparkerholland

#more than we hoped #more than we hoped chapter 2 #more than we hoped series #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #college!peter #college!peter parker #college! au #college au #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #marvel #mcu #reader insert #angst

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padfootagain · 4 years ago

Text

A Very Rose Mistake (VII)

Part 7: How A Mistake Was Made

Here we go for a new chapter!! You're finally going to understand where the title of this series comes from!!

I warn you, this is angsty. The flashback is angsty. Sorry… you'd better get some tissue before diving into this!

I hope you like it all the same! Lots of explanation here again thanks to the flashback! The next chapter will be more about the present days again.

I hope you like this! Don't forget to tell me what you think about it, I most definitely need a little help to write these days!

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 5951 (sorry it's a bit long)

Holmes Chapel, 2011

It was Valentine's Day. He was 17 and his world was changing at a speed he couldn't comprehend.

It was great, for the most part. It was completely crazy, actually: he was making an album. He was going to sing and travel around the world. How mad was that?

When he had left Holmes Chapel, he thought he would be back in a week. Maybe two. It would be a fun thing to discuss with you. How mad it was. How weird the whole experience had been, but let's be honest, he was only 16 and he wasn't mature enough for anything as big as this. He would slip back under his covers in his bedroom, and you would cuddle together while watching stupid videos on youtube that made you have this loud and uncontrollable laughter, and you would hide the bag of chocolates you had smuggled into his room when Anne would climb up the stairs.

But he didn't come home at all.

Instead, he went through the whole show, and after the X-factor was done, he was pushed into London City. It had been almost a year, and you had barely seen him.

It was strange to walk the same streets without him. It was strange to not have him sitting next to you in class anymore. It was strange to not go to his house after school every night and eat with him and Gemma while watching some dumb show on TV. It was strange not having him pushing you around on the way to school whenever you weren't quite awake yet.

And the truth was, it was unbearable almost, the way you missed him.

The hurricane he had been caught into was just as strange for him than it was for you, and he missed you just as much as you missed him.

And this shift in your relationship that had appeared right before he would leave had been on hold ever since.

You had almost kissed that evening. If Anne had not opened the front door right at that moment, you would have kissed. And as he was to leave the next day, he didn't bring the moment you had shared again. He reckoned that he ought to tell you how he felt face to face.

He wasn't quite sure what it meant yet being in love with someone, but he reckoned that if he had to give a definition, he would have given your name as an answer.

He was a little lost, and he wasn't sure of how he felt exactly, because he had never experienced anything like it before, but what he was certain about was that he wanted to explore whatever this was. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to cuddle with you and hold you tight and peck your nose. He wanted to be close to you all the time, it drove him insane.

And when he had been given the opportunity to go home for Valentine's day, he believed in a sign.

You couldn't come to celebrate his birthday in London, so you had promised to spend the weekend with him whenever he would come. And it started tonight.

Harry checked his reflection in the mirror of his old bedroom one last time, straightening the collar of his white shirt under his jersey. A red rose was resting on his bed, and he checked once again that the leaves had not suffered from the lack of water during the past 15 minutes. But they were not wilted, and he looked with satisfaction at the flower.

Romantic. Perfect. Because tonight was the night when he would ask you to be his girlfriend.

And if he were honest, he found that this prospect was scarier than walking on that stage for the first time and sing before a jury.

What if you said no?

But he pushed the thought away. Because that night, a year ago, you had almost kissed him too.

But a year had passed...

Yes, a year had passed, but he was certain that you didn't have a boyfriend. You hadn't mentioned anything to him or to Gemma, and that meant that you were single. He wasn't in Holmes Chapel anymore, but he was still your best friend.

Hopefully, that would change tonight though.

He walked down the stairs with his rose in his shaky hand. Anne eyed him from the living room, pretending to watch TV. When he struggled to arrange the collar of his black winter coat though, his mother couldn't help but walk over to him. She gently pushed his hands away and fumbled with the soft material until it was folded just the right way. She gave her son an encouraging smile and pinched his cheek affectionately.

"Good luck."

"I think I'm gonna throw up," he admitted, before turning to the door.

"It's only Y/N. It'll be fine," Anne encouraged him.

She crossed her fingers for him and he reciprocated the gesture before walking out of the house and into the cold air.

The wind bit down on his cheeks, making them flushed and painful. He ignored the sensation though, and hurried down the path and towards your house.

How many times had he walked this same path leading to your house? Thousands and thousands of times, without a doubt...

It was the evening already, and February coming with its shorter days, it was already pitch-black outside. It had snowed that morning, and the grass and pavement all around the street were covered with half-melted ice. The rooftops were of an immaculate white, although the lampposts scattered down the lane were barely enough to show them. The clouds of the morning had cleared through the afternoon, and the night sky was stained with pale stars. The moon though was nowhere to be seen.

And for the first time in twelve years, he was nervous as he knocked on your front door, the same red paint that had always been there, chipped at the corners and a little diluted by the sun.

You were quick to open the door, and Harry could have sworn that he was having a heart-attack as he saw you again.

You were wearing a simple pair of blue jeans and a warm sweater. Simple. Comfy. The most adorable sight he had ever seen

You were even more beautiful than the last time he had seen you for real... how were you even human at this point?

"Hi, Y/N..."

But he was cut short as you threw yourself at him, sure that he would catch you. And he did, he always did.

You both laughed, your nerves slowly dissolving as you held each other tight.

"Harry!"

"It's me," he nodded, chuckling some more.

"I've missed you so much... I can't believe you're here!"

"I've missed you too. So much!"

"You have so much stuff to tell me. And I have too. You'll never guess who Jeremy ended up with."

"Jeremy? With Ashley?"

"With Leila."

"What?! No way!" He exclaimed, pulling away just enough to look up at you as he was still carrying you, your legs now wrapped around him like a koala.

You nodded with shock all over your features.

"You'll tell me everything. I need to know what kind of drama could have unfolded to lead to these two getting together."

He pressed his face into your neck again, right where it belonged, and you closed your eyes as his warm breath hit your skin softly, a vivid contrast with the cold air of the early evening.

Finally, he gently put you back down, feeling that you were starting to shiver in the cold weather.

And at last, you noticed that he was holding a rose in his hand. You looked up at him questioningly, and Harry was certain that he was going to either throw up or pass out then.

He opened his mouth to offer to go inside to talk because it was awfully cold outside, when someone new appeared on the threshold.

And Harry froze.

It was a boy. Around your age. He had never seen him before.

Who…? What…?

"Oh, Harry, this is Joel! Jo, this is Harry!"

Jo?!

"Hi, man!" Joel shook Harry's hand.

"Hi."

Who was that guy, and what was he doing here? It was the evening, and it was Valentine's Day, and it was the day Harry finally came home to Holmes Chapel and…

Oh…

You had a boyfriend…

"Why don't you come in, Harry?" you offered, but your best friend was still staring at Joel.

You… you had a boyfriend?

"Harry?"

You tilted your head to the side, frowning at him. You were shivering in the cold now, your teeth chattering before you would clench your jaw to stop the shaking. Your breath drew patterns in the light coming from your house behind you. And you were breathtaking, as always. You were absolutely perfect.

You had a boyfriend.

Harry tightened his hold on the rose without noticing, until a thorn was piercing the flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

"Uhm… Actually, I was just saying hello, but I got to go."

"Oh, okay…" you nodded, although you were clearly disappointed.

"Yeah, I… I've got to go."

"Still busy because of the band?"

"Uhm… No, I… I've got something to do."

You looked at the rose again, and then at his eyes, your gaze travelling back and forth a few times.

Of course, you were wondering what he was doing with this flower in his hand.

And he could have given it to you. Given you the benefit of the doubt. Gone forth with his plan anyway. Asked about your boyfriend.

But it seemed wrong and mean and all in all, useless. You had found someone else, and on one hand he was the one to blame. A year had passed since that moment you had shared in his house, and so much was different now. He should have asked you about all this before, instead of waiting for you to be gone. He was too late, that was all.

And maybe he had given the moment too much meaning. Maybe you didn't mean much by it. Maybe you had forgotten about it altogether.

And there he was with a rose for you after spending months building his hopes up. What a fool he was… What an absolute idiot…

"Hmm… yeah, I… I've got to go see Melanie."

"Melanie?"

"Yeah, I… I have a date."

Your expression remained unreadable, although he saw the way your jaw clenched. But he attributed the symptom to the fact that he had promised to spend some time with you tonight, and your best friend was bailing out on you.

Yes, that was why you seemed confused, and a little sad.

"Oh," was your only answer.

He nodded, taking a step back.

"Will you still be here tomorrow?" you asked, following him one step further, chasing after him even if for a single step, the way you always had and always would.

"Yeah, I'm leaving in a week."

"Can you… Maybe we could go to the cinema tomorrow or… just… chill and catch up?"

"I… I don't know, Gemma's back too to see me so…"

"Oh, okay…"

"And I want to spend some time with my mum too, so..."

"Of course, you… you don't see her that much either."

"Yeah."

"Well, just… tell me when you're free, okay? I… I've really missed you and I… I really want to catch up with you."

"Okay. Goodnight, Y/N."

"Good night, Harry."

Before you could say anything else, Harry had turned on his heels and was hurrying down the street. He turned left to cross through the gardens and come back to his house discretely. When he knocked at the kitchen door, Anne welcomed him back inside with a deep frown.

"Already? What happened? And why are you coming back from there… we have a front door, you know?"

But he didn't answer and merely rushed inside, throwing the rose in the sink. He was taking off his coat when Anne realized what it all meant.

"Oh… darling, I'm sorry."

She wrapped her arms around her son, but Harry didn't reciprocate the gesture.

"I need to be alone right now," he whispered, but Anne tightened her hold on him.

"Are you sure? You don't want to tell me what happened?"

He struggled to swallow the lump in his throat, his voice made hoarse by pain.

"She… she has a boyfriend," he simply answered, and Anne heaved a sigh.

"I'm so sorry, darling."

"It's alright. It was a long shot anyway."

"Did you ask her about this boyfriend of hers? Maybe it isn't that serious."

"No, I didn't. I just… I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay."

"I need to be alone right now, mum."

"I'm here if you need anything, okay?"

Harry merely nodded, giving his mother a small smile as he finally broke away from her embrace. He hurried upstairs, while Anne looked at him with a pained expression on her face, but there wasn't much that she could do to help.

He walked in his bedroom and closed the door behind him, not bothering in turning on the light, and when he remembered his lie about Melanie, he decided to remain in the dark for a while longer. This same bedroom in which the two of you had spent countless hours laughing and joking around and doing your homework and reading and watching stupid videos of cats on his computer. You had fallen asleep together in his bed during sleepovers. You had broken his shelf while trying to imitate some martial art. You had broken your toe against his bed simply because you were so damn clumsy sometimes. You had played video games together through sleepless nights. You had read your favourite books to him out loud. He still had that sheet of paper upon which you had learned how to write his name in one of his drawers.

His life was so full of you.

He let himself slip down the length of the door until he was sitting on the wooden floor. When had the tears started to flow? He wasn't sure, but they were there nonetheless.

He looked up to his window, through which he could get a glimpse at your bedroom. Your light was on, and through the think curtains, he could guess your shadow moving on the other side of the windowpane. There was another shadow with you, a little taller, and he didn't need much effort to guess that it was Joel. He watched the two shadows moving closer to meld into one broader shape instead. He kicked the foot of his bed as he imagined the two of you kissing. And if he wasn't sure of what his feelings for you meant, he was absolutely certain that the cause behind his pain now was heartbreak.

He tried to look away, focus onto anything but you and Joel wrapped in each other's arms in your bedroom.

Because indeed, you were in Joel's arms at that moment. With your own arms around his neck and your head resting against his shoulder. And it felt nice. You felt better like this, being held.

You reckoned that you were lucky to have your cousin by your side. You were lucky that he had managed to travel for your mother's birthday and stayed for a few extra days. You were lucky that he was there now, with you, to cradle your head in his hand while you cried harder than you had ever cried before.

Because you had waited for a year for Harry to come back. Because you had imagined thousands of times how you would talk about that interrupted moment in his kitchen. Because you dreamt of being held by him instead, and you wondered what it felt like to be kissed by him. And when he had been standing there with that rose, for a moment, you had hoped that maybe the flower was for you. That perhaps he felt the same, had the same anticipation as you did at the thought of the two of you spending some quality time together again, and the same apprehension at the idea of talking about the almost-kiss from the previous year. But then, he had told you the rose was for Melanie, and not for you. It was Valentine's Day and he was going to give Melanie a red rose, the message was loud and clear.

Maybe he had even forgotten about that moment in his kitchen, it was the most painful thought that kept on twirling around in your mind.

Yes, you were glad your cousin Joel was there to hold you while you cried over your first heartbreak.

Loch Lomond, 2020

Now that you were up and eating your breakfast, your hair still damped from your morning shower, you noticed how sore your legs were after the hike of the day before. If you didn't regret at all your long walk in the mountains, as the view from the top was most definitely worth a few cramps now, you still wished you could go back in bed and lay there all day.

But your plans for a restful day didn't match the schedule your cousin had prepared for the week, and there was no way you could refuse Cassie anything the week before her wedding. Which was why you found yourself walking towards the loch with the rest of the guests, chatting with Patrick and your parents. Harry was a few steps behind, lost in a conversation of his own, even though he was sometimes distracted from the words spoken to him because he kept a careful eye on Patrick all the way from the lodge to the shore of the loch, cautious at being as discreet in his surveillance as he could.

Cassie had planned an outing across the loch. She had rented some rowboats for the day, that were merely ten minutes away from the lodge. The idea was to cross the loch with the boats, have lunch on the other side, and explore the forest a little maybe, and then coming back to the lodge for the early evening.

The weather was merciful, the day a little warmer than the previous one, and the sun was bright now that it was high enough in the blue sky. There were barely any lazy clouds to cover the light, and the waters of the loch reflected the clear sky like an azure mirror. The shores were not too muddy thanks to the sunny weather, although the layers of multicoloured skeleton leaves that covered the ground had a tendency to trap the morning dew for a little longer than usual, making the earth still a little wetter than what it should have been. It made your footsteps loud in the quiet morning.

Cassie insisted for you to join her and her fiancée in their boat, so you complied, leaving Harry to share a rowboat with other guests.

It didn't really surprise you to have Cassie insisting on you joining her. You had not seen each other in a very long time because of your studies, and you had lots of things to catch up on. Besides, you were expecting to be questioned about your 'relationship' with Harry.

And indeed, you were not disappointed.

Five minutes into the trip, as soon as you were a few meters away from the other boats, Cassie was more or less abandoning the oar she was in charge of to lean towards you instead, an excited glimmer in her eyes.

"So… you and Harry? I want to hear everything!"

You laughed, shaking your head.

"There's not so much to say about it," you rolled your eyes, diverting your attention from her eager eyes by shaking your drying locks, as if trying to make your hair dry faster.

"Not much to tell about it?! Are you kidding me?! After all these years of the two of you being oblivious morons, you finally are together!"

"We didn't spend years being oblivious morons, thank you very much!" you defended yourself, but your cousin was far from convinced.

"Yes, you did!"

"Honey, you need to help me control the boat," Cassie's fiancée blurted out, struggling with her own oar, but your cousin was too busy with you to care about where the boat was heading.

"How did you two finally come to your senses?" she asked.

"We… had a little bit too much to drink one evening, at a party," you explained, hoping she wouldn't notice that you were lying. "And we ended up… saying things that we wouldn't have admitted while sobber, I guess. And we… kissed. Then, the next day, we talked about it and came to the conclusion that it was for the better that we got it out in the open. And we decided to take the risk and try a relationship."

She let out an excited shriek, letting go of the oar completely, making Amy roll her eyes at her and giving up her own oar as well. She knew your cousin enough to be aware that she wouldn’t be focused on anything but you as long as her curiosity for gossips wasn't satisfied.

"I can't believe it took you guys this long to finally agree to be together!" she swatted your leg playfully. "But then, you both are stubborn and a little stupid, so… not so surprising."

"Thanks for the compliment," you answered with irony, making both the women in front of you laugh.

"And so far, how is it going?"

"Good. It's… it's going great."

"What about the distance?"

"Huh… so far we haven't had to deal with that too much but… we're used to not being around each other constantly so I'm not too worried."

"Yeah, but… it's different between friends and between lovers," Amy replied.

"Uhm… yeah, I guess," you tried to escape her question.

"Has he written songs about you?" Cassie asked, a softness spreading across her features, and both you and Amy chuckled at the sight of the desperate romantic your cousin sometimes was.

"No, he hasn't!" you replied.

"None that you know of, at least!" Cassie replied with a snort. "He was already writing songs about you before you two got together, so he's obviously writing some now too!"

"No, he wasn't!" you shook your head, frowning.

"Huh… yes, he was."

"Of course not!"

"He was! You have to be blind to not realize that yet! He's been head over heels for you for years!"

You rolled your eyes, hoping the gesture would be enough of an answer, because you weren't sure how to respond to her without betraying the truth.

After all, she would know he had never felt this way for you if you told her that he had never, for certain, written any songs about you. Because for all these years, he had never seen anything but a friend in you. There had been one moment when you were sixteen… but then time had passed and had turned the instant in a fading memory. And there was nothing else to be said about it all. He went on to have other relationships, and you did the same, and he fell in love and wrote songs about other people, and never about you. And you were fine with that.

But you couldn’t sell Cassie the story of shared feelings with Harry if you told her that he had never seen anything in you but a friend.

Luckily for you, she dropped that particular subject, to come to another, just as personal and problematic for you to answer.

"And… when did he first say that he loves you, then?"

You scoffed, faking to be a little embarrassed.

"That is none of your business!"

"But he said it then!" Cassie let out another excited shriek. "Knowing him, it must have been awfully romantic," she went on with a dreamy sigh.

By her side, Amy rolled her eyes at her, an amused smile on her lips.

The other boats of the party were drifting across the loch as well, a few meters away and, hopefully, out of earshot. But you were too busy trying to make your way through Cassie's sudden interview to pay much attention to the rest of the guests.

"Anyway, it ought to be more romantic than when Amy told me she loved me for the first time," she threw a knowing glance at her fiancée, who frowned at her in response.

"It was kind of romantic, when you think of it!" Amy defended herself.

"I was sick! I was throwing up in your toilets!"

"I was holding your hair!"

"I WAS PUKING!" Cassie fought back.

"When you think of it, it was kind of cute," you defended Amy with a chuckle. "It meant that she loved you even if she was seeing you being disgusting."

"Exactly!" Amy agreed.

Cassie laughed, before leaning to kiss the fresh pout away from her fiancée's lips.

"You're right. It was kind of cute. Memorable, if anything else."

It was Amy's time to laugh, before leaning for another peck.

And seeing the couple together like this, you had to admit that you were a little jealous. If you weren't complaining about being single, you still had to admit that, looking at these two being adorable together, you wanted that too, one day.

You didn't even notice your eyes drifting away and settling on a colourful jumper in another of the boats, your brain refusing to register the interruption in the movement of your eyes, or who the jumper and the mess of brown curls belonged to.

"Anyway, next question I have to ask," Cassie brought you back to the present, and you settled your attention on her again. "How is the sex?"

You chocked on your own breath.

"What?! What kind of question is that?!" you protested, but Cassie merely shrugged while Amy was exploding with laughter at your reaction.

"Sex can be important in a relationship! Depends on the relationship, of course. Some people don't need that. But Harry is obviously very touchy and horny, like… that's just who he is. So I assume sex is gonna be a part of the relationship that… counts at least. How is it going?"

"Cassie!"

"What? We're all grown-ups! Don't act all shy now!

"I… It's going perfectly fine, thank you for your concern," you answered, clearly embarrassed.

"Good… you won't give me any more details on what's going on down there…?"

"CASSIE!"

"Okay, okay! I was just curious!"

You buried your face in both your hands, groaning in embarrassment.

"Besides, I'm asking cause… I'm a bit worried for you two, if I'm honest."

At that comment though, you looked up at Cassie again.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, it's just…" she shrugged, trying to find the right words. "You and Harry don't seem so… different around each other than you were… before. You know?"

It was your turn to shrug.

"We've always been kind of close. And Harry isn't so much in PDA anyway."

"Hmm…" your cousin nodded, but was clearly unconvinced. "I don't know, I just… feel like maybe you're not putting enough… tenderness into it. Okay, he held your hand a couple of times but… you're not kissing, or stealing many glances or… I mean, no more than usual. I don't know, just… I'm worried about you two. A relationship can't work if you don't put efforts into it, and you don't seem to put too much effort into it for now."

You were near panicking by now.

Had you and Harry done such a bad job at selling the whole fake relationship? Even your cousin was doubting you. You reckoned that a conversation with Harry was needed.

But right now, you needed to find an explanation, and fast.

You heaved a sigh.

"It's just… it's a bit weird being together around my parents and the whole family, you know?" you lied, hoping with all your might that Cassie would bite into the bait. "I'd love to be a bit more obvious about it, but then I notice my parents are around, and I feel like a teenager about to get caught snogging her boyfriend in her bedroom by her dad… you know what I mean? And I think Harry kinda feel the same."

Cassie nodded knowingly, before leaning forward and taking your hand.

"I get it. It must be weird to change your relationship with Harry and suddenly come forth with it in front of everyone. Especially when Harry has been your friend and a part of this family for so long now. But… you need to relax. Everyone around here loves Harry, and more importantly, everyone simply wants you to be happy. And it's obvious that your happiness lays with Harry, it's always been obvious. So… relax. Enjoy your relationship and stop caring so much about everybody else. Can you do that for me? Consider it my wedding gift."

You were strangely touched by her caring words, and you found yourself fighting tears for some reason. Maybe it was because Cassie was so genuinely concerned for you and only wanted the brightest happiness for you, it was obvious in her tone and her words alike. Maybe it was because of what she said about Harry and you. It was hard to tell.

But you nodded anyway, choosing to joke to relieve the emotion that filled the air above the loch all of a sudden.

"I'll try, thank you for your advice. But… I've already bought you one of the things on your stupid wedding list, so… that would make too many gifts."

She laughed with you, finally pulling away, and taking back her oar. But she didn't start manoeuvring the boat before one last word was spoken through a tender smile.

"I'm really happy for you, Y/N. He'll make you happy, I know it. He'll love you the way you deserve to be adored. He always has, even when you didn't know he did."

You weren't surprised to find Harry playing with the two young children that were part of the guests. Amy's nephews and nieces were, after all, some of the cutest children you had ever met, and Harry was known for his love for children. So, when you went looking for him to talk about what your cousin had confessed in the boat about her doubts about the two of you, and found your best friend giggling in the most adorable way, chasing after Amy's eight-year-old nephew, in this ridiculous way he had to run sometimes, you couldn't refrain a grin. None of them seemed to notice you as you approached them, they were too busy playing on the shore of the loch. The rest of the two families were setting down blankets and the food needed for the picnic a few meters away, the boats safely dragged up the shore when you arrived to the other side of the loch. And you thought you could use this amount of time when everyone else was busy to have a quick conversation with Harry. But then, you were met with this adorable scene that now unfolded before you, and really, you couldn't interrupt them.

It was as if you were held back by an invisible force, really. All of a sudden, your feet were planted in the ground, and there was no willpower to summon in yourself to make your body move forward. Instead, you remained motionless under the autumnal sun, the wind making the colourful leaves whisper above you, and stared at your best friend being the softest ray of sunshine you had ever seen.

And there it was again. This warm feeling invading your whole chest that you had spent so long trying to banish from your heart. No need to put a name on it. No need to make it harder and more painful than it already was.

Why did he have to be like this all the time? He made it so hard to forget him. And he was so oblivious to it all that you couldn't even be mad at him for it.

Really sometimes, you hated him a little because of it. And as you watched him run around after the child, purposefully missing as he extended his arms to grab the boy, a ridiculous expression on his face as he laughed under the sun, wearing that stupid oversized jumper stained with bright colours of his, his unruly hair a mess of curls shaken by the wind, you did hate him a little. You hated him for making you feel the way you did now.

It took him a couple of minutes to notice that you were there, leaning against the trunk of an evergreen pine tree. Once he spotted you, he shot you a bright smile, before making a silly face that made you laugh despite yourself. It wasn't your fault, after all. He was so goofy sometimes, how were you supposed to resist him?

You shook your head at him, before nodding towards the trees that climbed up the shores, all the way up the slopes of the mountains around the lochs. Harry seemed to catch what you meant, as he sent the children back to their parents, and followed you as discreetly as he could further in the forest.

There were bushes filled with thorns that you almost tore your jeans onto. Only a few meters away, a small clearing filled with purple heather and tall green ferns was splayed in sunshine. Pine trees left their needles everywhere, making a brownish blanket upon the earth. A few colourful deciduous trees finished to paint the scene with touches of brighter colours to stain the blank blue sky. You figured the clearing was far enough to not be heard.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked with a concerned frown when you stopped walking and turned to him with worry painted all across your features.

"I had a talk with Amy in the boat."

"And?"

"And… we're not doing so good."

"What do you mean? Do you mean she's… suspicious about us being together?"

"Kind of. I mean… no, she didn't go this far," you reassured him. "But she asked if everything was alright between us because she thought we weren't… uhm… showing our feelings enough."

Harry heaved a sigh, pinching his lower lip between his fingers, clear sign that he was thinking and worried.

"I told you it was a bad idea."

"Look, we just need to up our game a little. I thought my family would be more easily convinced, but as they clearly don't seem to be buying it, I reckon that we simply have to… put a little more effort pretending."

"So… what do you propose we do?"

"Just… more PDA, I guess."

Harry's cheeks and ears turned crimson, and there was nowhere for him to hide this time.

"Alright. I can do that."

"Let's just… full on pretend we're together, okay? Holding hands, and hugs or whatever… you would do with your girlfriend in public... I mean… with people you know around."

"Okay."

"We can do this, H."

"We don't exactly have a choice at this point, do we?"

You didn't answer, and instead, walked back towards your family to join them for lunch, leaving Harry to meditate on your words on his own.

But then, he reckoned he didn't have a choice. If you wanted him to fully lean in the pretend, then he'd do it. No matter how dangerous that behaviour could end up being.

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

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#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #series #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writing prompt #event #4700 followers

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sometimesitrytowritethings · 4 years ago

Text

Mountain Man: Part 4

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None

Summary: You never thought you’d love again. Then Arthur Morgan came into town. Fate continuously has you meeting each other in odd ways, and a troubled past is something you are both familiar with. Perhaps that’s what will make this time different.

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Valentine was, first and foremost, a run-down, muddy livestock town. It constantly smelled at least slightly of manure, and rest assured that every person’s shoes were caked in mud and shit by the end of each day. There were very few children or families in town, and thus little entertainment for anyone who was too young to drink or play poker. Gossip ran through the town as fast as whisky in the saloon, which is coincidentally where you had heard about the upcoming auction.

At the large Livestock Auction on the outskirts of town, a small troupe of men were to be riding in, followed by nearly two-dozen sturdy-looking horses. Luckily for you, Ben loved animals - especially horses. He really did take after his father in that aspect. So, there was naturally no better entertainment for the five-year-old than taking him to watch the small herd ride into town.

The two of you sat on a bench outside the back of the train station, close enough to see the action, but far enough away to stay safe in case any of the poor animals were suddenly spooked. Ben was dressed warmly in the crisp morning air, huddled up in a sweater as he sat on the bench, swinging his short legs back and forth in excitement. He held the last half of his chocolate bar tight in his fist, watching in awe as the horses were separated into groups and led into the corrals. Occasionally, he would smack your arm in excitement and point at a specific horse, admiring their coat or gait or hooves or anything else he found interesting.

After nearly an hour of watching from a distance, the horses were all herded into their pens, and Ben looked up at you with wide, excited eyes. “Mama, can I go to the fence now?” he asked, practically bouncing from his place on the bench. “Please?”

You gently pried the chocolate bar from his hand, and nodded. “Go ahead,” you agreed, “but watch out when you cross the road.” The end of your sentence was called to the back of the child, who had immediately dashed to the fence of the Livestock Auction.

With a small smile, you stood and slowly followed him over. You had been so focused on your son that you didn’t notice the familiar face of the man riding towards you until he had called your name. “Well, I shoa didn’t take you for a rancher,” came Arthur’s voice from your left. There was no way you could hide your smile.

He had been tying his own horse to the hitching post by the train station when he called out to you. He gave the horse a gentle pat and whispered something to it before walking towards you and Ben, who was far too distracted by seeing the horses up close to take notice of him. You let out a laugh as he made his way to you. “Hello again, Mountain Man,” you greeted, putting your hand on Ben’s back as he climbed up the first rung of the fence. “I certainly ain’t, but I figure Ben may be when he’s older.” You patted Ben’s back affectionately has you spoke about him. He didn’t notice. “Thank you for dinner, by the way.”

Arthur reached up with a large hand to tip his tattered hat in your direction, which also made it slightly cover his eyes. “It weren’t no problem, miss. Really,” he explained, now standing behind Ben with you at his side. The awkward energy that had overwhelmed the end of your conversation the day before was now completely gone. It was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do.

Ben suddenly called to you loudly, bouncing up and down on the fence, “Mama, there’s a baby horsy! Do you see?” He held up his right arm and pointed enthusiastically at a small pony towards the back of the lot. It had stubby legs and a long, black coat, contrasting significantly with its nearby cousins.

You reached forward and shushed him gently, not wanting him to spook the nearby animals. “Yes sweetheart, I can see it,” you confirmed, keeping your hand behind his back in case he lost balance and fell backwards in his excitement. “Regardless, it was very kind. Thank you.”

Luckily for Arthur, your eyes were still trained on your son, so you missed his small smile and light blush. “You’re welcome,” he responded, before he cleared his throat and took off his hat, holding it at his side.

The three of you watched the horses together for a moment as they kicked up mud in front of you, both of you glancing down occasionally at Ben with small smiles on your faces. You had to admit, it was nice, standing there with him by your side. Any passerby who didn’t know you would have reasonably thought the three of you a family.

Ben continued to ramble on enthusiastically, “How old do you think it is?” He finally tore his eyes away from the small pony and looked around the lot at the other horses. “Which one is it’s mama?”

He looked around for another pony, raising one foot up to the next rung of the fence, for a better view. As he searched, Arthur moved to his side and bent down slightly, so that his head was at the same level as Ben’s. “Which baby horse you talkin’ ‘bout?” he asked, looking in the same direction as your son.

Ben, thrilled to have a companion with the same interest, removed his hand from the railing and grabbed ahold of Arthur’s shirt. He nearly lost his balance, but Arthur’s strong arm swung up just in time, keeping the boy upright as he once again pointed toward the pony. There, that little one in the back.” After regaining his balance, and using Arthur’s shoulder as leverage, Ben clambered up to the second rung with both feet.

Arthur grinned when he saw the little horse. “Well that one there’s a Shetland Pony,” he explained, keeping his arm around your son’s back to help him maintain his balance. You couldn’t help thinking that Arthur looked good like this. With an arm wrapped around your son, teaching him about the animals in front of him, he looked like a father. “They’re bred to be real little, and they stay that way their whole lives.”

Ben’s eyes went wide. “Wow! So it’ll be a baby forever?” he asked, looking to Arthur for confirmation.

There was that barking laugh again from the man, the one that was accompanied by a wide grin, the one that made him throw his head back, the one you were now hoping to hear on almost a daily basis. “Not a baby,” he responded, patting Ben’s back affectionately, “but yeah. It’ll stay little forever.” He nodded toward the horse, and Ben turned his attention once again to the creature. “‘Cause they’re so small, they’re used in the mines, usually. I bet this one is on its way to Annesburg or maybe somewhere up in the Grizzlies.” With his free hand, he gestured at the horse. “See its thick coat? That means it’s real easy for ‘im to stay nice and warm up in the snow.”

The boy stared at the pony in awe, mouth slightly agape. “How come you know so much about horses?”

Arthur chuckled at his wonderment and reached over to put his worn hat on Ben’s head. It sunk low and covered the boy’s eyes, forcing him to reach up and tilt it backwards - but he didn’t remove it. “Was always fond of ‘em, I guess,” Arthur responded, reaching to the satchel at his side with his newly free hand. “They’re good, strong beasts, and real loyal if you treat ‘em right.” As he spoke, he pulled a worn, leatherbound book out of the bag and began to flip through the pages. You caught glimpses of long, handwritten texts, plenty of doodles, and several large, intricate drawings. That was certainly surprising. “Here,” he continued, holding out the book to Ben when he had found the page he was looking for. “I found a real pretty, snow-white Arabian up in Ambarino a while back. Wish I had one of them cameras so I coulda’ taken a real picture for ya.”

You looked down at the page, where a large, intricate image of a snow-white horse was drawn in pencil. Somehow, you managed to hold back the gasp that threatened to escape. He drew that? It was one thing to defy the stereotype of a rough-and-tumble mountain man by having a journal, but he took it to a whole different level with his sheer talent. You glanced up at him as he proudly showed Ben the image.

“Wow!” Ben gasped, turning from the fence to run the fingers of his right hand over the page. “It’s so pretty!” You reached over and helped him down before he fell, and he immediately moved to stand between Arthur and the opened journal.

Immediately, Arthur moved to squat behind him, his head again level with Ben’s as the boy took hold of the journal. “She shoa was,” he said into the boy’s ear. “Almost missed ‘er ‘cause she blended right in with the snow.”

After a minute of entranced study of the drawing, Ben turned his face toward Arthur’s. “You drew her real good!”

He laughed again and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck. If you didn’t know better, you would have sworn his cheeks looked slightly redder than they had been a moment ago. “Thanks, boah. But it ain’t much,” he replied. His self-doubt once again bubbling up.

“No, he’s right,” you chimed in. Your eyes met his as you smiled at him and nodded toward the book. “It’s really a beautiful drawing.”

He paused for a moment before taking the book gently from Ben’s hands and reaching for the edge of the page. “Thanks,” he responded, and began to gently tear the page from the book. Your hand immediately rose to stop him, there was no need to tear it out. But before you could reach him, he already had the paper in hand and was handing it over to your son. “Here ya go. You can keep it.”

For the hundredth time in a single day, Ben’s eyes went wide. “Really?” he asked in awe, eyes again going wide as he gazed up at Arthur. This was surely going to be the highlight of his week.

Arthur nodded, chuckling. “Shoa,” he agreed, closing the book and slipping it back into the satchel at his side. “Can always draw another if I want.”

Ben’s face immediately lit up as soon the drawing was in his hands. “Woah! Thanks, Mister Mountain Man!” exclaimed Ben, who immediately dropped to the ground next to the fence to analyse the paper in more detail.

Arthur responded with a chuckled, “‘Course,” and ruffled Ben’s curls. For some reason, looking at the adorable scene brought back that familiar lump in your throat. Was this what it would have been like if Andrew were here to watch his son grow? Was this what it looked like to have a child with a father?

Seeing Ben this happy was more satisfying than anything in the world. Seeing Arthur smiling down at your son, fingers again looped in his gun belt, also brought out a strange fondness that you didn’t think you would ever feel again. And then, inevitably, the memory of Andrew floats back into your mind, flavoring the entire situation with a strange sort of bittersweetness.

“He’s a good kid,” Arthur’s contented voice brought you slowly back to reality. His gaze had moved from your son, still sitting on the ground, carefully holding the paper to prevent wrinkles, to your own. A small, bittersweet smile was aimed in your direction, and in that moment you knew - he understood.

You nodded, not having the willpower to take your eyes from Arthurs. “He certainly is,” you said, affectionately. “Thank you, really.”

The self-doubt that ate at Arthur every day reddened his face. “It weren’t nothin,” he finally looked away from you and plucked his hat from Ben’s head and slipped it back on his own, shading his eyes from your view. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“No, no,” you weren’t having any of that. Not today, when he had made your son happier than you had seen in ages. “You probably just made his entire week. That’s not nothin’,” you continued, stepping closer to him and teasingly pushing his shoulder a bit.

He chuckled. “Well…”

But you weren’t about to let him continue, especially if he was only going to degrade himself. “How about I thank you by finally getting you that drink tonight? No price negotiations necessary,” you cut in, reaching up to straighten out his collar like you had done at the saloon on his first night in town. Again, your fingers brushed his bare skin at the collar of his shirt. This time, you were certain you felt him tense.

After a second of looking down at you, so close to him, feeling the brush of your fingers on his skin, he smiled and nodded. “Shoa. That’d be nice.” You grinned back up at him and dropped your hand from his shirt, missing the feeling of it as soon as you did.

Arthur left shortly after your conversation, confirming that he would meet you at the saloon later that evening. You stayed for a while longer, sitting in the grass on the side of the road with Ben as he moved his gaze back and forth between the real horses, and the picture he had gotten from Arthur. After a half an hour or so, when all of the horses were penned and the sun was high in the sky, you finally stood, ruffled Ben’s hair and told him it was time to go home for the day.

Slowly, the two of you made your way back home, taking the road through the center of town. On the way, you heard the familiar call of the newsboy, and looked over. Immediately, the headline and image on the front page caught your eye.

“SNAKE OIL MURDERER CAPTURED” was written in large bold font above an article and a photograph of a man, whose face you recognised. You quickly walked over and purchased a paper, opening it to read the entire page with Ben by your side.

Looking again at the photograph, angry heat swelled in your chest. There was no mistaking those eyes. You had nearly forgotten them, but now they would be burned into your mind for the rest of your days.

The memories flooded back to you like a dam had been broken in your mind. Andrew’s hacking coughs. His pale face, burning with fever. Worry about Ben. Worry about the Harvest. Resigning yourselves to wait the illness out and skimp on food during Winter. Hearing about a travelling doctor in town. Picking up the medication. Hope.

And then? Finding Andrew’s lifeless body in bed next to you in the morning.

There was no denying it. It was too much of a coincidence to not have been true.

Benedict Albright, the Snake Oil Murderer, had killed your husband.

#Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan #RDR2 #RDR2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x f!reader #f!reader

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wwhbtsjin · 4 years ago

Text

First Date

Pairing: J-HopexReader

Genre: Fluff (A/U: Best friends to lovers)

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I’m actually just getting biased wrecked by everyone

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2:00 P.M. Jung Hoseok :I’ll pick you up at 5:30 pm ok? I’m looking forward to our first date, as a couple, Princess.

2:05 P.M. (Y/N) : Oppa! It’s only our first date! Why are you calling me Princess? And also are you not coming home?

2:07 P.M. Jung Hoseok: You- I-...I’VE BEEN CALLING YOU THIS EVER SINCE I MET YOU. I’m only coming home to pick you up.

2:10 P.M. (Y/N) : Aish- okay I’m sorry I’m nervous! This is our first official date since I told you...you know...

2:11 P.M. Jung Hoseok: No...no I don’t know...I think I need a reminder 😜

2:13 P.M. (Y/N): Before I realized I liked you okay! You know that! Aish- I need to get ready! Text me when you’re here!

2:15 P.M. Jung Hoseok: Wait...I’M PICKING YOU UP IN THREE HOURS DOES IT REALLY TAKE YOU THAT LONG???

2:16 P.M. (Y/N): Bye Oppa!!! 😙

You giggle to yourself quietly as you exit out of the message. Today was your first official date with your longtime friend of 15 years and now roommate, Jung Hoseok. Everyone knew him as J-Hope in the neighborhood, but to you, he was Hobi Oppa. Your Hobi Oppa. The two of you met back in school when you were 10 years old and he was 11.

Flashback to 15 years ago…

You sat on the swing alone at the park. Humming to yourself as you drank a banana milk quietly. You were originally from Busan, but moving to a whole new place, well it hasn’t been the easiest on you. You missed your best friends. You missed your playground that you and your friends ruled.

“I don’t like it here…” You mumbled to yourself as you kicked up some of the sand below you.

“Hey watch it!” Another voice suddenly appeared.

You looked up to find a young boy rubbing his eye.

“S-Sorry, did I get sand in your eye?” You reached into your pocket for a handkerchief, “Here use this.”

He reached for it and rubbed his eye, “It’s okay I’ve had worse. Hey is that swing next to you free?” But before you could answer, he plopped himself onto it, “I’ve seen you here almost everyday! My name is Hoseok! I’m 11!”

“I-I’m (Y/N)...I’m 10.”

“I take it you just moved here,” he jumped up on his feet, “Well I’m the prince of this playground! And I need a princess! Would you like to be my princess? We can rule this playground!”

You know...his positivity is something you needed.

“Sure.”

Hoseok jumped with joy, “Yes! Meet me here at the same time tomorrow!” And with that he took off running.

So you kept the promise and made your way to the park as soon as you got out of school Hoseok beat you there, he was already sitting on the swing with a bag at his feet.

You walked up to him and sat next to him on the swing, “Hello Hoseok.”

“If you’re my princess You can call me by stage name! I’m J-Hope!” he said dancing around, “When I become a great dancer who’s famous, that’s what everyone will call me!”

“How about Hopey?” You giggled.

“Too girly!” Hoseok stopped dancing and pouted.

“Hobi!” You smiled, he was making you feel genuinely happy, “That’s not too girly.”

“I like that! You can call me Hobi Oppa!” Hobi reached into the bag and put a princess crown on your head, “I was really embarrassed buying this at the toy store yesterday, but this a moment that needs to be remembered.” He reached into the bag and put a prince crown on his head, “From this day on, you’re Princess (Y/N) and I’m Prince Hobi!”

You and Hoseok have been an inseparable pair since then. You guys did everything together. Had all the same homeroom classes in school. Tried every single new thing together. Went to every restaurant that caught your eye. Studied together, went to the same cram school, you name it. Everyone thought you were dating for the longest time, well except you guys.

It took you guys a while to realize the feelings you had for each other. The day it happened, is a day you’ll never forget, even though it was only 7 days ago.

Flashback to Last Week

“Oh my gosh Oppa! I’m so tired!” You both had gotten off of work the same time after a really long day.

You worked for a BioTech research lab in Seoul while Hobi had owned a very successful dance studio also in Seoul. Yes, both of you had moved to Seoul together. And you guys had figured you guys might as well sign a lease for an apartment together to save money. You guys respected each other's boundaries and privacy always.

You sat down on the kitchen table and laid your head down on it. After a long day, you were looking forward to jumping into your pajamas and one of Hobi’s hoodies since they were so big on you. It was just really comfy!

Hoseok stood at the fridge, “Did you eat yet?” It was pretty obvious he didn’t with the way he rummaged through the fridge.

“Noooo” you said barely lifting your head up to look at him, “I’m hungry but I’M TIRED”.

You didn’t notice, but he had a really nice side profile and he was just looking at the fridge. He was actually really handsome. He’s definitely not that young goofy boy you met years ago.

Hoseok noticed you staring at him and his cheeks flushed with a light shade of pink. The same time you were having these thoughts about Hoseok, he also realized how cute you were to him.

“Well we don’t have much I can cook,” Hoseok scratched his head and closed the fridge, “Want to order takeout and we can both go shopping on our next day off? We can watch a movie while we wait for the food.”

You nodded, “I like that idea! Tteokbokki, Jajangmyeon and Chicken?”.

“Oh my god you’re a fattie,” J-Hope took out his phone and began ordering, “But I’ll do anything for you”. And he meant it.

You handed your card to him, “Yah, use my card. I’ll pay since we have to order for both our fat asses.”

“Too late I already ordered,” he flashed a smile at you and picked you up, “LEt’s watch a movie!”

But him picking you up was a surprise. You felt your cheeks heat up and butterflies soon filled your stomach, “Yah Oppa! What are you doing!?”

He set you down on the couch with flushed cheeks, “S-sorry Princess,” his childhood nickname for you, except this time it made you feel something different, “I want to make sure you’re comfortable and relaxed.” He seemed a bit more timid but affectionate today.

You smiled as he walked over to the television. He turned it on and began searching your various streaming services for something to watch, “What are we in the mood for today?”

But just then the doorbell rang. It was your food.

“I’ll get it Oppa! You pick something and surprise me!” You got up and quickly thanked the delivery man before setting the food down on the coffee table in front of the television.

Hoseok picked one of his favorite movies, Taegukgi.

He plopped next to you, wrapped a blanket around you and him and you guys ate your food quietly while watching the movie. You and Hoseok have always been comfortable and relaxed with each other, but today he was being extra...affectionate. Not that you didn’t like it. In fact, it was making you really happy. Nobody took this much care of you.

Once you guys finished the food Hoseok stood up and paused the movie, “Let me clean this up real quick.” You knew he didn’t like the mess.

When he returned he leaned on the arm of the couch and laid on his side, “U-um (Y/N)?” his cheeks were flushed again, “I-is it okay if I cuddle you? I-I just really want to be comfortable with you and relax right now.”

You nodded and crawled up next to him. You laid on your side and fit into his arms perfectly. He pulled the blanket up to cover the two of you, pressed play and wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close.

It’s a good thing he couldn’t hear your heartbeat, because you could’ve sworn that it was going to shoot out of your body. Hoseok’s warmth around you made you feel comfortable and safe. Feeling each breath he took that hit your neck sent chills down your spine. But nonetheless, he made you feel relaxed. Soon enough, you fell asleep in his arms.

Hoseok looked down at you when he heard your tiny snores. He smiled warmly and moved your hair out of your face, “So pretty…” he mumbled to himself and snuggled into you.

You caught him by surprise when you shifted to your opposite side, leaving only centimeters between your guys faces. His face was as red as a tomato, and as much as he wanted to kiss you that very second, he wouldn’t do that because you guys were best friends. He didn’t know how you felt about him. So he shifted up a little so your face was at his chest and you snuggled into him more. He decided to leave you be and finish the movie before he would wake you up to go into your room.

About 45 minutes later, Hobi felt you stir in his arms. He looked down and saw that you were starting to wake up, ‘She’s so cute…’ he thought to himself.

“O-oppa??” You yawned and looked up at him, half awake, but cheeks flushed pink. When you realized how close your guys' faces were, you shot up, but Hoseok pulled you back down.

“Do you know how cute you are when you fall asleep?” Hoseok moved a strand of hair out of your face and looked you in the eyes, “You’re so cute I’m gonna explode.” His cheeks were flushed pink.

“O-oppa…” was all you could say. By now you were sure your cheeks were as red as tomatoes.

“I never really realized this (Y/N)... but I like you. Like I really like you. You’re so cute, cuddly, beautiful, amazing. I feel so comfortable and relaxed with you. You make my heart flutter every time you smile and laugh. When you’re in the room, my day just gets brighter.” Hoseok stared at you seriously. It was so easy to get lost in those deep brown eyes of his.

“I-I like you too Oppa…” you hid your face in your hands and pulled the hood of his hoodie over you to hide the embarrassment of your really red cheeks, “I’ve never been cared for and protected by anyone the way that you have for me.”

Hobi’s face lit up and he took the hood off. He reached for your hands and pulled them away from your face. Cupping your cheek and gently making you look at him he smiled and said, “In that case, will you be my girlfriend, Princess?”

You smiled and wrapped your arms around him, “Yes I will Oppa.”

It was currently 4:00 P.M. and you were searching through your closet to decide what to wear. Hoseok didn’t tell you what he had planned for you guys, so you didn’t necessarily know what to wear. It was cold, snowing, and it was almost evening.

“Now I can go with warm but sexy...or cute and cuddly,” you opened your wardrobe, “It’s our first date as a couple, so cute and cuddly it is.” You pulled out your brown long coat, a white long turtleneck, black leggings and your favorite boots. You curled your hair just a little before applying light makeup on. By the time you were done, it was 5:30 and you heard a knock at the door.

“Who could it be?” You peeked outside through the peephole and saw that it was your boyfriend.

You opened the door, “Oppa did you forget your key?” But your mouth dropped open when you saw him standing at the door with a bouquet of flowers.

“We may live together already, but I wanted to make this genuinely special. I went with Jin hyung to the florist today and he helped me put this together for you...it’s custom made with your favorite flowers and colors.” He handed it to you.

You smelled them and smiled, “It’s absolutely gorgeous, I love it. Let me go put these in a vase and then we’ll go okay?” You scanned your boyfriend up and down and noticed you guys were matching, “This was so not planned.”

He chuckled and back hugged you as you were putting the flowers in the vase, “You look absolutely beautiful though princess.”

You turned around and wrapped your arms around him while looking up into his eyes, “And you’re as handsome as when you left this morning Oppa. What are we doing this evening?”

“It’s a surprise, let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and you guys made your way to the car parked downstairs.

Hoseok and you always were jamming out to whatever songs you guys had in the car. Nothing really changed for you two, except the fact that you both knew that you loved each other.

Soon enough Hoseok parked the car backwards in a lot and looked at you, “Stay here and I’ll come get you when I’m ready/” He got out of the car and you heard the trunk open, “Don’t look!”

You giggled and saw the trunk begin to glow, “Okay Oppa!’

After a few minutes of hearing him run around, hop in and out of the trunk, opening and closing things, he suddenly appeared at your door and opened it for you, “My Princess, our first date is ready!”

You guys intertwined your fingers and walked around to the trunk. But the scene was absolutely beautiful. Hobi had laid out some blankets and pillows in the back of the car, had little lights strewn about and had the most amazing looking dinner ready for you guys. Surrounding the car were some little nova lamps and a little heater to keep you guys warm. And the best part was, all of this was overlooking the skyline of Seoul.

“Oppa it's so beautiful,” you hugged him tightly and looked up into his eyes, “I love it.”

“Anything for our first official date, Princess. This totally beats our takeout and scrubby clothes meals in my studio right?” He chuckled while wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you close.

Your cheeks heated up as you realized how close you were. You’ve known each other so long, only been dating a week, and never kissed him. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t know if he was ready to. “Any moment with you Oppa, I love you regardless. This is absolutely stunning though!” you ran to one of the nova lights and squatted down to look at it, “Wait...did you take this from my room?”

He scratched the back of his head, his cute habit whenever he gets embarrassed, “M-maybe… I just wanted it to be pretty okay! I thought these were cool when you brought them home!”

“I like your taste,” you giggled and waddles over to the heater and held your hands in front of it, “It makes this whole date feel so cozy!”

Hoseok hopped into the trunk and held his arms out to you, “This isn’t all I have planned for tonight. Let’s eat first. Come here, I’ll keep you warm while we eat.”

You complied and crawled in between his legs. He put a blanket over the two of you and reached for the tray of food. On it was a play of Hotteok, Bulgogi, Samgyeopsal, Rice, and Chicken. Some of your favorites that you guys loved to share together. “Oppa it looks yummy!” You squealed as you picked up a piece of Bulgogi with your chopsticks. You turned halfway and held it up to him, “You eat first!”

No protest from him. He opened his mouth wide and ate the piece of meat. He smiled and then fed you a piece of samgyeopsal in return. Throughout the cute little picnic, you and Hoseok enjoyed each other's presence, talking about life, singing songs together, pointing out things through an I Spy game, the simplest of things, but you loved it all.

“Did you enjoy this Princess?” Hoseok rested his chin on your shoulder as you guys looked over the skyline, “Because we have to go to our second part of the date!”

“Second part?” You looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

“Mhm! I have made reservations! It’s in 30 minutes, but we're only 10 minutes away.”

You nodded and Hoseok helped you out of the trunk and back into the passenger seat of his car, “What do you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise,” he said as he was loading everything back into the trunk, “But it’ll be fun!”

“Can I help you load everything?” You turned your head around only to see him load the last thing into the trunk, “Nevermind…”

He ran into the car and soon started driving off.

“Are we going to an arcade?” You asked.

“Nope.”

“Are we getting dessert?” Your eyes lit up at the thought of eating a nice hot chocolate croissant.

“Nope you fattie.”

“Oh are going to Lotte World?”

“Yah. It’s closed! Stop asking Jagi! It’s a surprise!” He smiled without taking his eyes off the road.

Your cheeks heated up at the sound of him calling you Jagi. He always stuck to Princess, but hearing Jagi come out of his mouth was something different. It made your relationship seem more official.

Soon enough Hoseok pulled into another parking lot. It was one of those places where you could pick something to paint together. The thought of you guys doing something together made you really excited.

Hoseok helped you out of the car. He grabbed your hand before leading you inside the building. After checking the two of you in, you guys were led to a private room full of ceramics to choose from to paint.

You let go of his hand and ran around marveling at everything, “Oh my gosh Oppa! Look at this kitty! It’s so cute!” You ran to a different shelf, “Oppa! What if we painted a vase for the flowers you got me today? Or! What if I paint a mug for you to drink your morning coffee in? So many to choose from! How can we pick just one Oppa?”

You looked back at him standing at the door just admiring how cute you were. He walked up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, “I reserved this room up until they closed. I also paid for unlimited painting, so we could do all you wanted if we have time.”

“No way,” your mouth dropped open, “Oppa you’re spoiling me!”

He kissed the top of your head, “Anything for my Princess.”

Your cheeks heated up. That was the first time you ever felt the warmth of his lips. And that wasn’t even your first kiss. Sure you guys have drank from the same straw, but that doesn’t mean you ever kissed him.

You nodded in embarrassment, “O-okay.”

Hoseok chuckled at your cuteness. In his mind, he was freaking out about how he kissed your head and how cute you were all flustered. He wished he went for your lips instead but he figured that wasn’t the right time for it. “I’ll get the figures, you get all the paint colors you think is best.”

You nodded and filled about the different palettes with various different colors. Hoseok set down everything you wanted to paint along with one figure he had picked. It was a ceramic heart.

“I want to put our names and today’s date on this,” Hoseok held it up to you, “Cheesy I know, but I saw it on the internet and I thought it would be cute for us to do this too.”

You giggled and nodded, “I like it!”

The two of you began painting and talking about anything again. Time was passing quickly and you wish it would just freeze. Although the two of you already lived together, you didn’t want this night to end. It’s just different the last 15 years you guys spent together.

Soon enough everything was painted and you looked at them proudly, “I’d say we’re artists!”

Hoseok agreed, “I have to give these to them and I’ll pick them up tomorrow on my way home from work when they’re dry. Stay here, I’ll be right back” He walked out with everything you painted and returned about 5 minutes later. You cleaned up the paint and then you guys were ready to go.

“I had fun Oppa!” You said as you swung his hand in yours on the way to the car.

“I’m glad. That’s all I had planned for tonight. I’m sorry it’s not much Jagi, I wanted to spoil you.” He kissed your hand and opened the car door for you.

Another kiss but not on your lips, you were internally screaming, “Not much? Oppa that was everything I could ask for! I loved it! The best of it though was spending time with you!”

He smiled as he got into the driver's seat to head back to your guys apartment, “I’m glad Jagi.”

There he goes again with the Jagi! You were screaming and felt like steam was coming out of your ears. You couldn’t believe he was all yours now. You were going crazy on the inside.

Soon enough you guys were back at home. He held your hand as you were going up the elevator. You didn’t realize how sleepy you were feeling until the two of you were back inside your apartment.

You yawned as you took off your shoes and Hoseok helped you with your coat. The two of you walked into the hallway before turning your backs to each other to go into your rooms. You changed into your comfy pajamas, which was a pair of leggings and one of Hoseok’s hoodies, different from the one you wore last week. You sat at your vanity putting your hair up and doing your nightly skin routine.

Then there was a knock at your door, “Princess, may I come in?”

“Sure!”

Hoseok came into your room wearing sweats and a tshirt. He plopped himself onto your bed and looked into your direction, “I had a great time today Jagi.”

You put your hair up into a messy bun and turned to him, “Me too Oppa. It was really fun and relaxing!”

Hoseok pulled you down so that you were sitting on his lap. You blushed furiously at his actions and leaned your head on his shoulder in hopes of him not seeing you like this.

“Yah, look at me…” His voice was gentle as he cupped your cheek. He gently lifted your head to make him look at you, his cheeks were pink, “You’re so beautiful.” His face started leaning in closer to yours.

Was this really happening? You were screaming to yourself all night about this, was it finally going to happen?

To your suspicion, you were right. His warm lips met yours softly. He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close.

When you guys pulled away he leaned his forehead on yours, “I wanted to do that all night but didn’t know when.”

You giggled, “I’m glad you did. I was screaming to myself waiting for you to do so. I was about to do it myself.”

“You could have, I wouldn’t have stopped you.” He gave you another soft kiss, “You should get to sleep Princess, don’t you have work tomorrow?”

You nodded, “I do, but I don’t wanna leave this position.”

Hoseok helped you off of him and you sat in your bed pouting. He walked out without saying a word before returning two minutes later with his phone in his hands, “You don’t have to worry about that.” He laid down in your bed and patted the spot next to him.

You crawled in and wrapped your arms around him, “I could get used to this”.

“My bed is comfier though” he reached to turn off the lights.

“We can rotate beds,” you giggled, “Tomorrow night can be yours.”

“Sounds like a plan”. And soon enough, the two of you drifted to sleep in each others arms.

21 notes · View notes

winzenni · 4 years ago

Text

butterfly (nakamoto yuta)

Summary: when your secret tattoo is discovered and you're scolded during dance practice, the nice Japanese boy group trainee can't help but interfere.

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Pairing: trainee!yuta x trainee!reader

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: trigger warning! unwanted touching? also, we all know that yuta respects women af so i thought this would just be something he’s probably done

“and uh 5, 6, 7, 8.”

“smoother movements, people.”

“y/n, you’re late on the third count.

“one more time from the top.”

“y/n, fix your left arm.”

“last time from the top.”

It was just another day in the practice room, preparing for your next dance evaluation, but today’s practice felt a little harder than usual. Maybe it was the fact that it was over ninety degrees outside (a typical summer day in Korea), or the fact that you were wearing a fairly thick T-shirt with long sweats that were made for chilly weather.

When you woke up from your nap two hours earlier, you had completely forgotten about the group dance practice scheduled in ten minutes, and grabbed whatever clothes you saw first in your closet before dashing to the practice room, where your trainee friends were already warming up with the teacher.

“Ok, 10-minute break. Get some water and come back ready to clean up your moves.” said the instructor, Mr. Kim.

The trainees scattered from the center of the room, with some girls leaving to stop by the water fountain, some guys grabbing a towel to wipe their sweat, and some just plopping down on the floor to catch their breath.

“It’s so hot, Jiwoo. I think I might faint from heat exhaustion,” you tell your friends. Like you, Jiwoo has been training under SM for the past two years. Though make and female trainees were often divided during the training process, today, all trainees, both male and female, were learning the same hip-hop routine for the monthly evaluation.

“It's not that hot though? Maybe it's because you're wearing fleece sweats. Y/n, you really are going to pass out if you keep wearing that. I have extra shorts that you can wear.” Jiwoo pulls out a pair of black athletic shorts from her duffel bag and hands them to you.

“Really? Oh my god, Jiwoo, I don't know what I would do without you.” You take them from her, standing up. “I'll be back, I'm going to go change.”

The shorts definitely helped with the heat, but Jiwoo’s size and proportions were a little off from yours. She was a little shorter than you, which made the shorts barely reach halfway to your knee, yet the shorts were a little loose around your thighs, allowing the fabric to fly up each time you squatted or jumped. Nevertheless, it was better to show some skin than pass out from heat exhaustion.

Still, you didn't want the male trainees to see anything that you didn't want them to. And in particular, you didn't want anyone to see the tattoo on your inner thigh.

Not only were tattoos considered ugly and immature, but they were also a nuisance to makeup artists and stylists. Just knowing that you had an inked design on your body would make you less eligible to debut.

So to prevent the shorts from rising up and revealing your tattoo, you put less energy into the jumps, but this compromised the appearance of the performance.

“Ok, everyone stop,” said Mr. Kim. “Y/n, why are you jumping like a half dead frog? At this part, everyone needs to jump up like a spring, a slinky! You're a rusty wire right now, fix it.”

“Sorry, Mr. Kim. I’ll do better.”

In the next rounds of dancing, you decided to put your all into it, fearing a scolding from the teacher. Hopefully, no one would pay attention to you enough to notice what was under your shorts.

“From the top to the second jump,” Mr. Kim ordered.

1-2-3-4, 5-6-7-jump. 1-2-3-4, 5-6-7-jump. You counted in your head, focusing on only the dance and your movements.

1-2-3-4, 5-6-7-jump. 1-2-3-4, 5-6-7-jump. In this moment, you only noticed yourself, your swaying motions, your posture, your expressions.

1-2-3-4, 5-6-7-jump. 1-2-

“STOP!” Mr. Kim roared.

Everyone's eyes widened, unsure if they were the ones going to be scolded. At this point, it had been a longer practice than usual, and as practice dragged on, Mr. Kim’s mood and tolerance dwindled exponentially.

“Y/n. Step up.”

Your heart suddenly began pounding a mile a minute. What did you do wrong? You could have sworn your movements were perfect. You stepped forward from the grid formation, to the front of the class with your back facing them. In the mirror, you saw your fearful face in front of all the other trainee’s wide eyes and pitiful stares.

“Y/n. What is this?” Mr. Kim pointed to your right inner thigh, right where the fabric of the shorts ended and revealed a black mark on your skin. “Lift up your shorts.”

With shaking fingers, you slightly pull up the edge of the shorts to reveal a small inked butterfly on your thigh, just a few inches wide. In your peripheral vision, you could see the other trainees, sending looks of surprise? shock? confusion? to each other.

“Y/n……” the edge of Mr. Kim’s lips slid upward, almost laughing in your face to mock you. “You've been messing up all day and now this. You really continue to surprise me.”

He pulled up the edge of the shorts once more to get a glimpse of your tattoo, his foreign touch on your thigh making you flinch.

“If you're going to be a rebellious bitch and get a tattoo, at least make it creative!” He laughed. “A butterfly?”

At this point, you looked down at your feet in the mirror’s reflection, too embarrassed to face how the other trainees were looking at you. You blinked quickly to prevent any tears from falling. Would you have to get the tattoo removed to keep training? Or worse, would you maybe even be kicked out? Having a tattoo was one thing, but you had been causing some trouble during today's practice with your mistakes.

Mr. Kim’s scolding continued in the back of your mind, but you tuned it out with the clouded thoughts of what might happen to you. You were brought back to the current situation when Mr. Kim’s hands pulled up your shorts again to see the tattoo, this time a little too high, revealing a sliver of your black underwear. You took a step back.

“Hey!” A new body appeared in your field of vision, pushing away Mr. Kim’s hand and stepping in between you and the teacher with his y'all figure.

“M-mr. Kim,” you started.

“Hah, look at this-this,” Mr. Kim didn't know where to start with cursing you. “Y/n, you're dismissed. Leave now. Yuta, get out of my way and go back to your position.”

It took a minute for you to process Mr. Kim’s words. Dismissed from practice? Dismissed from the monthly evaluation? Dismissed from the training you had put the past two years of your life into and given up academics and friends and good food for? With all these thoughts in your mind, you couldn't help but let some tears slide down your cheek as you left the room and went into the hallway. You couldn't even hear the roaring voice of another teenager behind you.

“You can't touch her like that! That's not-"

Sitting in an empty recording room, you couldn’t help but let the tears run down your face.

You had worked so hard for so long to get to where you were, and you might have just lost it all because of a stupid butterfly tattoo you thought would be cute a year ago. In your head, you could only hear the sound of your own crying and the troublesome thoughts plaguing your mind.

A boy sat next beside you. Looking at you through his straight blond bangs, he says, “Sorry about what happened to you back there. That wasn't cool at all.”

You try to even your breathing and control your tears for a moment to respond. “Thanks, but it wasn't your fault so you don't need to apologize. Why are you here? Aren't you going to get in trouble for leaving practice?”

“Well, I just didn't think it was fair for you to be treated like that back there,” the boy says, looking down at his feet. “I-I wanted to see if you were ok. Oh, and I'm Yuta by the way. Nakamoto Yuta. Nice to meet you.” He offers a hand to shake, and you grasp it weakly to give it a friendly shake.

“I'm y/n,” you say in an almost silent whisper. “You should go back. One dismissed trainee is enough.”

“No, I'll stay here until you stop crying,” Yuta declares firmly. “I-I just really think it was so unfair for you to go through that. It's so dumb, like honestly, it's just a tattoo! It's no different from… from me wearing this earring or choosing to have blond hair!” He says, readjusting the beanie around his bangs.

After a moment of silence and looking down at your shoes, your sweaty legs and tired ankles, Yuta gently breaks the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if it will be burdensome to release your tensions and worries into this stranger you've just met today. However, his aura radiates a warm, welcoming feeling, like a close friend you've reunited with after a long time.

“I just… I just did so much to get here. I don’t think I can live with myself if this is what gets me kicked out.” Your mind reverts back to flashbacks of all the meals you skipped, tears you cried, hours you danced, and sleepless nights you had dedicated to your journey to debut. To throw that all to waste over sweating a little too hard and changing pants at dance practice -- it would be a burden you would not be able to live with.

Coming to terms with the tragic future you’ve set up for yourself, a tear slips from your eye down onto your shoes, not going unnoticed by Yuta.

“Hey, hey, y/n, look at me,” he says.

You look up to him from under your tear-stained eyelashes, meeting his honey-like gaze.

“You’re not going to get kicked out. It’s gonna be ok,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly before sharply retracting his arm.

“S-sorry, I… is it ok if I put my arm here?” He asks.

You nod, leaning into his touch and putting your head on his shoulder.

You sit together for a while like that, without exchanging any words. Though he doesn’t say anything besides softly rubbing circles into your shoulder, Yuta’s mere presence and the warmth radiating from his body brings you a sense of consolation.

“I think it’s cute,” Yuta says, after what feels like ten or fifteen minutes of silence.

“Hm?” you say.

“The butterfly,” he explains. “I think it’s cute. Don’t listen to what others say about it. I think it’s really cute.”

“Thanks. It’s supposed to represent, like, hope and endurance,” you say. “I got it a few months into training because it was a difficult time for me. So whenever I mess up, I just look at it and think about…. I guess, I remind myself to keep going.”

Yuta nods, processing the symbolism of it and how much it must’ve meant to you. “I’ll be your butterfly,” he chimes in quietly.

“Huh?”

“You’re going to keep training here with me. I’m not going to let you quit now.”

Though his words sound motivational, you wonder, what power does he have over this? Well, whatever happens, you’re glad you were able to make a new friend. Little do you know that Yuta’s father has some... connections with the company.

#yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #yuta scenarios #yuta au #yuta x reader #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct hurt/comfort #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 hurt/comfort #nct 127 fic #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 x reader

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