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allthingsfangirl101 · 2 years ago

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Overprotective Little Brother–Steve Harrington

Dustin's POV

When my sister and Steve first started dating, I was skeptical. I wanted my sister to be happy, but I knew Steve's reputation at school. I didn't want Steve to hurt her. She finally had the courage to open her heart to someone. The last thing that I wanted was for him to break it.

They've been together for almost three months now. Steve works at Scoops Ahoy and Y/N works at a boutique across the food court. After they started working at the mall, they decided to start having lunch together every day. They first started dating after one day when Steve missed their lunch break and asked to make it up to her by taking her to dinner.

Before he asked her out, Steve came by and asked me if it was okay. As awesome as I thought he was, I was a little nervous when he started to show interest in Y/N. After a long conversation of him promising not to hurt my sister, I gave him my permission.

When Y/N came home from their first date, she was glowing. She couldn't stop smiling as she told me all about their date. She kept saying how much she really liked him and couldn't believe that he liked her too.

"Hey, Y/N," I called out when I walked into the house. "I'm home! Were you still planning on hanging out with Steve tonight? If not, you could come and hang out with us."

I looked around the house, confused when Y/N hadn't said anything. "Y/N?" I tried again as I started walking down the hallway to her room. "You home? Or did Steve take a detour on your way home from work again?"

I knocked on her bedroom door before opening it. What I saw made my heart jump into my stomach and my anger immediately turn towards my sister's stupid boyfriend. Y/N was sitting on the edge of her bed with tears streaming down her face. I ran over to her and sat next to her.

"What's wrong, Y/N?"

"Steve," she said through her tears.

"What did he do?" I asked, ready to ride my bike to his house and punch him in the face.

"He kissed Nancy last night."

"What?!" I yelled as I jumped up. "When? Why? How? WHAT?!"

"He went to that party that I didn't want to go to," she explained as she slowly stopped crying. "I guess she was drinking and. . . she kissed him."

"Oh, Y/N," I sighed as I sat back down. "I'm sorry."

"I don't know what to do," she said shakily as the tears started falling again. "Do I forgive him? Do I let it go? Do I break up with him?"

When she asked that last question, her voice got caught in her throat. I wrapped my arms around her as she started to cry.

"Has he apologized?" I asked, trying to sound positive.

"He tried to," she stuttered. "I think. I don't really know. . . He told me about the kiss and said it meant nothing but. . . I left."

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," I sighed.

Y/N and I spent the rest of the night eating dinner and watching cartoons. When she fell asleep on the couch with her hair messy and tear stains on her face, the anger I'd been pushing down returned.

"I am going to kill you, Harrington."

* * * * *

The next morning, I was just about to jump on my bike when I saw the source of my anger's car parked in front of our house. I rolled my eyes when he got out of the car with a bouquet of roses.

"Listen, I've been thinking. . ."

I scoffed when I overheard Steve rehearsing what he was going to say to Y/N.

"Those better be for my sister," I said as I walked over to him, gesturing at the flowers in his hands.

"Yeah," he said shakily. "I just want to talk to her, okay? I want to explain."

"Explain why you kissed Nancy?"

"I didn't kiss her back," he sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "She was drunk and wasn't thinking straight. The second she kissed me, I pulled away, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing by telling Y/N what happened."

"Steve," I sighed, "Y/N has always been and always will be intimidated by Nancy."

"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice slightly dropping.

"Y/N's been insecure her whole life. Especially when it came to Nancy Wheeler," I started to explain. "She has always worried that she will never be as pretty, or smart, or funny, or interesting as Nancy. This was before you and Nancy even started dating. Once you asked her out, those insecurities doubled. Tripled. Quadrippled or druppled. Whatever the word is. The point is they got worse."

"I had no idea Y/N felt like that," Steve said as he leaned against the side of his car.

"That's not all." I hesitated. Y/N told me this in confidence, but I had to try and help fix their relationship. Y/N really cares about Steve. Breaking up would kill her.

"Once you and Y/N started dating, she couldn't shake the possibility that you were still in love with Nancy."

"That's crazy," Steve said as he kicked off his car and walked closer to me. "I'm not in love with Nancy. I'm in love with Y/N."

"You are?" I stuttered. I studied the look on his face. I had to make sure that Steve meant this. I cleared my throat before saying, "Be very careful, Steve. This is my sister we're talking about. When you say that, you better mean it."

"I do," Steve didn't hesitate to say. "I love Y/N, Dustin. I'd never do anything to hurt her."

"Good," I said, snatching the flowers out of his hands. I opened the front door and signaled for him to walk inside.

"She's in her room," I said, handing him back the flowers. "Go fix this."

* * * * *

Reader's POV

I looked up from my book when there was a soft knock on my door. I sighed as I brought my knees closer to my chest and fixed my blanket.

"Go away, Dustin," I sighed. "I told you I was fine."

I watched as the door slowly opened. My heart jumped into my throat when Steve popped his head into my room.

"It's not Dustin," he tried to joke. He showed me some flowers with a cheeky smile on his face. "Just me."

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Can I come in?" He asked, his smile slightly dropping. "I really want to talk about what happened."

"Steve. . ."

"Please," he begged. "There are some things I need to say to you."

After a few seconds of hesitation, I nodded. Steve let out a sigh of relief as he walked into my room. I moved to the edge of my bed and Steve sat next to me, putting the flowers on the bed. He hesitated before reaching over and grabbing my hand.

"You have to know that I don't have feelings for Nancy anymore," he said softly. He looked up at me, instantly looking deeply into my eyes. "I don't love Nancy anymore, Y/N. The second she kissed me, I broke it."

"I believe you," I whispered, looking down at our intertwined hands. I held my breath when Steve reached over and lifted my chin so I was looking back at him.

"I love you, Y/N."

I smiled, a different type of tears building. I scooted closer to him as I gathered my courage.

"I love you too, Steve."

* * * * *

Dustin's POV

I wasn't sure what Steve said to Y/N. I was trying to distract myself. I thought about going over to Mike's, but I wanted to stay here in case it didn't go well. If it went south, I'd be here to beat Steve up and to comfort my sister after.

I was in the middle of playing a video game when I heard Y/N's bedroom door open. I chewed on my bottom lip as I heard footsteps coming down the hall. I paused the game and looked over my shoulder. I tried to stop my smile when I saw Y/N and Steve walking down the hall, holding hands.

"Steve and I are going to go get dinner," Y/N said, her face slightly pink.

"Do you want us to drop you off at Mike's?" Steve offered.

"I'm good," I chuckled. "You guys go have fun."

The two smiled at me before leaving. I was just about to restart my game when Y/N came back inside.

"Is everything okay?" I asked her.

"It's great," she said with a small laugh. "I came back inside to thank you."

"I didn't do anything," I shrugged. Y/N set me a knowing look which she added to with a wink.

"Thanks for protecting me, little bro."

I laughed as I sent her a wink back, flashing my pearly whites at her.

"Anytime, big sis."

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joe keery #joe keery imagines

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inagetawaycarxo · 3 years ago

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Caught Out | Connor Rhodes FT Jay Halstead

Requested By Anon [I got a request, it is Connor x Reader x Jay. Reader is a pediatric trauma surgeon and very talented. She and Jay are dating when she finds Jay cheating on her with Hailey. The reader decides to leave Chicago and go to the city Connor is in. A few months later Jay shows up at Connor's door begging for the reader to take him back until he finds out she and Connor are dating and is happier with him.]

Pairings: Jay Halstead x Reader, Jay Halstead x Hailey Upton, Connor Rhodes x Reader

Featuring: Y/n, Jay Halstead, Hailey Upton, Connor Rhodes.

Summary: Y/n finds Jay cheating on her with Hailey and leaves Chicago to go see Connor

Warnings: angst, cheating, nudity, sex [kind of], betrayal, crying, jealousy, mentions of explicit sexual content, errors I missed.

w/c: 1513

Your eyes were heavy with sleep. All you wanted to do was go home and sleep. Especially you wanted to cuddle with Jay. But no, the universe had other plans for you.

A yawn escaped your mouth as you parked your car. Putting the handbrake up. Then turned the car off. You grabbed your work bag from the front seat. Slinging it across your shoulder. You took the keys out of the ignition, as you opened the door. Getting out of the car. Shutting the door and locking the car. You quickly rushed into the apartment complex. Rushing to the apartment you shared with Jay, all the while taking the apartment keys out of the bag.

Once you reached the door. You put the keys into the keyhole. Unlocking the lock.

Your hand grabbing the doorknob. Turning the doorknob. Opening the door, and walking in. you closed the door behind you. Your eyebrows furrow as you heard moaning and squeaking of the mattress coming from the bedroom. Dread filled your body as you slowly walked to the bedroom. Breathing hitching. You peaked at the half-open door. Your hands cupping your mouth. Muffling the gasp. Your heart felt like it was shattering into millions of pieces. As you looked away. Yet the image of Jay on top of Hailey, thrusting into her was burned into your mind.

You turned around. Rushing to the front door. Your gasp must have startled them because you heard the rustling of sheets, a few curse words slipping out of Jay’s mouth. It made you rush to the door faster.

Jay rushed to put his boxers on. Hailey quickly put her clothes on. Guilt washing over them.

“Y/n,” He shouted. As he exited the bedroom door. Hailey trailing after him. He saw you stop at the door. Hand hovering above the doorknob.

You turned around to face him with a look of heartbreak. Tears falling from your eyes like a waterfall. Lip quivering. Jay felt his heart clench. Guilt washing over him like a ton of bricks.

He was about to say something, but he heard footsteps behind him. Your gaze turned to Hailey, looking more crestfallen. You turned around quickly. Grabbing the doorknob and twisting it open. Opening the door and exiting the apartment as well as his life. Tears fell from his eyes, but he only had himself blame….

Tears blurred your vision as you drove out of Chicago. All you had on you was your work bag. Lucky had it had your wallet and phone in it.

You quickly wiped the tears away with the back of your hand. Hearing your phone vibrate constantly. You ignored it. Focusing on the road. Heartache engulfing you. You turned the radio on low hoping it would soothe your heartache, but it didn’t.

It seemed the universe didn’t want you to forget what you just saw. A sad song about cheating played on the radio. It made you burst into tears, as you drove. Doing your best to subside them. The only person who knew you well enough was Connor. So, that’s where you were going. Maybe if you would have picked him and left Chicago with him, instead of turning him down then none of this would have occurred and you wouldn’t have been heartbroken.

Self-doubt started to crawl inside of you. You should have seen the signs. The stolen glances, late nights at work, or what he claimed as work. How your works always put a strain on the relationship. But then anger sets in. he was the one that cheated on you. He was the one that wrecked the relationship. He used to accuse you of cheating on him with Connor before Connor left Chicago, but he was the one that was being unfaithful, he was the hypocrite.

It would have hurt less if it were a random girl, but no it was Hailey. His ex-girlfriend and his partner. You had a feeling this would happen. You just hoped it never did…

It was early morning when you reached Connor’s place. Parking your ear in his driveway. You put the car in park, putting the handbrake up. Turning the car off, taking keys out of the ignition. Then grabbed your bag. Opening the door. Slowly getting out of the car. Shutting the door then locking the car. Walking sheepishly to his door. Heart hammering against your ribcage. Hopefully, you aren’t intruding.

Connor must have heard a commotion outside and came to investigate. The door swinging open as you reached the top step.

Connor looked slightly shocked to see you outside of his door. His shock turned into a concerned look as he took in your appearance.

“Y/n, what happened?” He asked. As he rushed over to you. His hands cupping the side of your face. His touch made you melt. More tears fell from your eyes. Lips trembling.

“He cheated on me with Hailey,” You gasped out. Anger rises inside of Connor. Has Jay lost his mind? He thought to himself.

You fell into Connor. Connor wrapped his arms around you. As you bury your head into his chest. Crying till there were no tears left.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Connor spoke softly as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

Connor led you inside of his place. Sitting down with you on the couch. Hugging you close to his chest. Eventually, you told him what you saw. Connor’s jaw ticked as you told him. You eventually fell asleep on Connor’s lap. Not that Connor minded it. Connor starred at you as you slept on his lap. His fingers combing through your hair ever so softly. He loved you, and he was going to prove it to you now that you were no longer with Jay…

TWO MONTHS LATER

You felt two arms wrap around your waist from behind you. Connor pressed himself into your back. While you poured coffee.

“You look so sexy in my shirt,” Connor spoke into your ear. He pressed a soft kiss against the shell of your ear. His beard trickling your earlobe making you giggly.

“Mm... just in your shirt?” You teased. Quirking one eyebrow.

“You look sexy all the time, even sexier when you are naked, underneath me,” He spoke. Voice deepening with lust.

Connor spun you around to face him. You smiled as you saw his eyes darken with lust. Taking your lower lip in between your bottom lip.

“We have work soon,” You spoke. Arching an eyebrow as a warning.

“Then let’s make it a quickie,” He growled out. Before he could kiss you, the doorbell rang, as well as a knock interrupting Connor and you.

Connor let out a frustrated huff. As you made your way to the door.

“If it’s the next-door neighbor, tell then I’m out of sugar,” He spoke. You let out a laugh. Grabbing the doorknob and twisting it open.

You felt your heart leap into your throat. Your eyes were wide as you looked at the person in shock. The person happened to be Jay.

“Jay…” You brokenly gasped out.

“Y/n, I finally found you,” Jay gasped out. He looked like he hadn’t slept in months. Your heart was beating so fast you could barely hear your thoughts. Breathing quickening.

“W…what are you doing here?” You gasped out.

“I want you back, I’m sorry for cheating on you with Hailey,” Jay started to say. Taking a deep breath. When he said Hailey’s name your mind immediately flashed back to the night you saw him cheating on you with her. The words cheating and Hailey stung. It was like he was pouring salt on a wound.

“These past few months have been hell, I’ve been torturing myself these last few months, Hailey isn’t the one I want, it’s you,” Jay confessed. While you stared at him in shock.

You were about to say something when you felt Connor wrap a protective arm around you. Pulling you close to him. Jay looked slightly uncomfortable, confused, and jealous. Jealous of the fact you melted right into Connors touch. Like you felt safe.

Connor glared at Jay. His jaw clenching. He would have punched Jay, for what he put you through, but restrained himself.

“You have a lot of nerve coming here, in fact, you can keep torturing yourself because she doesn’t want you back,” Connor snapped. Speaking for you. You felt your heart flutter. Glad Connor spoke up for you. Because you couldn’t form the words to speak.

She can speak for herself,” Jay growled. Glaring at Connor.

“I am speaking for the both of us, and as her boyfriend, who loves her more than you ever did or could, LEAVE,” Connor growled out. Slamming the door shut, but not before Jay saw Connor give you a soft kiss on the cheek. Your face lighting up with happiness. Jay felt his heart shatter into pieces. He lost you for good. His insecurities and jealousy of Connor and your friendship pushing you towards Connor. Jay felt heartache flood through him, he only had himself to blame…

#jay halstead x reader #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes imagines #jay halstead imagine #chicago med x reader #chicago pd x reader #chicago med imagine #chicago pd imagine #angst #jay halstead angst

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baroquebucky · 4 years ago

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sleepy

when bucky has a hard time sleeping in his bed, you suggest he finds a better place to sleep, and he does

word count: 801

masterlist

a/n: gasp two fics in one night ?? who wouldve thunk,, cant believe tfaws is over already :[ hope u all enjoy this lil soft fic hehe sorry for any typos !!

Bucky tossed and turned for what felt like the hundredth time that hour, letting out a frustrated sigh as he checked his phone, squinting at the bright light. He had multiple missed texts from you.

r u awake

say yes ur never asleep

im bored do u wanna come over we can watch the hobbit

Bucky smiled at your texts, replying quickly to tell you he would be on his way after he got dressed. He moved quickly so he wouldn’t keep you waiting, getting into a taxi and arriving at your place in 30 short minutes.

You answered the door with a smile, pulling bucky into your apartment quickly and heading to the couch.

“I took the liberty of making up some popcorn and setting out some candy” you smiled, looking at your boyfriend. Bucky placed his jacket on the table by the door, taking his shoes off and moving to sit next to you.

“thank you doll” he smiled, taking in the way you looked in his t shirt you had taken from him.

“I’ve been looking for that shirt you know” he teased and you blushed, avoiding his gaze.

“don’t worry, looks better on you” your heart raced at his comment, looking at him only to find him smirking.

“would look better on the floor” you shot back, loving the way the smirk fell from him face and his face turned red.

“so the hobbit or Star Wars, or do you wanna start Harry Potter?” You spoke casually, Bucky still trying to recover from your statement.

“whatever you want” he spoke, clearing his throat and focusing on you as you reached for the remote, playing your favorite Star Wars movie.

You lowered the volume slightly, sitting back down next to bucky and taking his hand in yours, messing with his fingers.

“what was keeping you up” you asked, looking at him, the bright lights from the movie illuminated the room.

Bucky turned to look at you, sighing as he focused his attention on the way your hand fit in his.

“my mind wouldn’t stop racing, i couldn’t relax enough to sleep” he spoke softly, but you could hear him clearly, squeezing his hand softly as you replied.

You were quiet for a second before speaking up, “maybe you need something to distract you before you sleep, like watching a show, that worked last time right?” Bucky nodded,

“or you need a new bed” you teased, making him smile and kiss your cheek.

“cmere love bug” you spoke, scooting closer to him and letting him lay on your chest, softly playing with his hair with one hand and holding him closely with the other.

As the movie played you noticed bucky had stopped reaching for popcorn and his breathing had evened out.

He fell asleep. Most importantly he fell asleep on you. Your heart fluttered at the realization. Smiling when he moved a little to get more comfortable and stopping again.

The movie ended and bucky had moved his head onto your lap. You debated on moving him or not, deciding you should wake him so his neck wouldn’t hurt in the morning.

“buck, bucky get up angel” you whispered, moving him softly and stroking his arm to not startle him.

Bucky opened his eyes slowly, vision still bleary. He rubbed his eyes and realized he had called asleep on you, getting up quickly and yawning a little.

“sorry i didn’t mean to fall asleep, I’ll go to let you rest” he spoke, getting up from the couch. You stood up with him, grabbing his wrist and stopping him from moving towards the door.

“you can just sleep with me, not like your bed is any better” you teased and he smiled, following you to your bedroom.

“are you sure doll? I dont wanna-” he began and you rolled your eyes, already dragging him next to your bed.

“I’m sure buck” you smiled, slipping under the covers and waited for him to take his clothes off to join you.

He snuggled next to you, letting you cuddle up into him with a small smile on your face.

“goodnight, i love you” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed as he wrapped his metal arm around you, holding you close.

“i love you doll, sweet dreams” he replied, kissing your forehead and letting his eyes close.

He thought his mind would race, your room was quiet. He thought he wouldn’t be able to relax and he would stay awake all night.

Bucky was asleep within minutes, completely relaxed in your presence, focusing on the steady beating of your heart and your gently breathing as you slept.

He didnt need a new bed or a show to help him sleep. Bucky just needed you, the love of his life, the help him sleep.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #soft bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader

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citrusdarling7 · 4 years ago

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jealously

summary- Tom Riddle becomes jealous of reader’s boyfriend and decides to take matters into his own hands

warnings- smut, cheating, degrading, edging, and a bit of light choking. dom! tom, sub! reader

🗡—————————————————————🗡

I’ve never been much of a morning person, but for some reason I was up early today. I knew that I had a potions essay due tomorrow, and I was behind on it. Still in my silky nightgown, I assumed no one else would be in the common room. To my surprise, Abraxas was sitting in front of the fireplace. I smiled and tip-toed over to him, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind him. He squeezed one of my hands gently, acknowledging my presence.

“Darling, why are you up? It’s barely 5 am,” he told me softly. I rolled my eyes and swiveled around the couch so I could sit down next to him.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Malfoy. Oh my God, what happened to your face?” Even in the dim lighting of the Slytherin common room, I could see the dark purple bruises around one of his eyes. I gently reached up to try and touch him, but he turned his face to the side.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Did you sleep well?” He tried to change the subject, but I didn’t let up.

“Brax, what the hell happened? Please tell me that the other guy looks worse,” I said while positioning myself closer to him. I gently ran a finger along his jawline in a comforting gesture. I could smell his sage wood cologne, which I absolutely adored.

“Truthfully darling, I think I’m lucky I walked away without him cursing me. He was absolutely livid after you left.”

Of course. I was such an idiot. Tom had done this to him.

Late last night, Abraxas and I were kissing in the corridor when we decided we wanted to go somewhere more private. Abraxas knows how to find the Room of Requirement, and he dragged me inside, still kissing my neck and holding onto my waist. Unfortunately for us, all of the other 6th year Slytherin boys were already there, brewing some type of illegal potion. Not only had Abraxas forgotten he was supposed to meet with them that night, but he had also exposed me to what was happening.

Although some people would believe so, I’m not naive to what goes on in this school. I know about Tom and his pursuits in dark magic. I know about their constant fights with those Gryffindors who all wear that one lion pin. But Tom seemed to believe that I had no prior knowledge of these secret meetings, and he instantly started yelling at us.

“Malfoy, you idiot! You are not supposed to bring back girls to this room, and certainly not when we’re in the middle of illicit activities!”

Rosier and Avery were still sitting by the cauldron, doing nothing to help the situation. I stepped away from Abraxas and turned towards Tom.

“Calm down, Riddle. You and your superiority complex need to learn that not everyone’s life revolves around yours,” I spat at him. Tom took a step closer to me, and I instinctively reached to pull out my wand. Before I had a chance to, I felt the back of my head being slammed against the wall, Tom’s hand gripping my throat tightly. Abraxas and Rosier both shouted for Tom to let go of me, but I just smiled. I stared him down, letting him know that I wasn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not allowed to speak to me that way,” he growled.

“I can speak to you any way I want Tommy.” His eyes looked as if he wanted to strangle me, but I saw the trace of a smile play across his lips. He abruptly let go of me and turned towards Abraxas.

“You need to keep your girlfriend under control. Get out of here.” Abraxas quickly grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the door.

“Not you, Malfoy. Your presence is still required here.” I opened my mouth to tell him off again, but Abraxas quickly shook his head.

“Go back to the common room, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” I reluctantly sighed, but figured that I shouldn’t piss Tom off even more. I should have known that Tom would still be angry with Abraxas.

Flashing back to present time, I turned around to look towards the boys dormitories. Abraxas could tell what I was thinking, so he gently squeezed my hand.

“Leave it alone, dearest. He was fine the rest of the night, confronting him will just make him mad again. I don’t want you to get hurt, my love.”

I’m not one to back down easily, and I constantly let my temper get the best of me. But Abraxas’ soft touch against my leg and heart-felt words relaxed me a bit.

“Alright. I won’t say anything. Have you done Slughorn’s essay yet?”

We spent the next hour or so alone in the common room, trying to hastily finish up homework. By the time that others started waking up, I was sitting in his lap, my hands in his hair as we kissed passionately.

“You two are disgusting. 20 points from Slytherin,” a cold voice said. I rolled my eyes and gave Abraxas a quick peck on the lips before sliding off of him and back onto the couch. Tom was Head Boy, and he had no problem with taking points from his own house. He had a lot of nerve as well. Almost every single night I watched him drag some girl into his room. She always left limping a few hours later, and Tom never spoke to her again.

“Put some clothes on. You’re dressed like a whore,” he spat at me. I scoffed at him, but got up to head back to my room anyways. As I slipped on my school robes and brushed out my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tom.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. I managed to get through all of my classes without speaking a word to Tom. After watching the Slytherin quidditch team practice while gossiping with Lestrange, I sat with Rosier and Abraxas in the common room. Rosier made me play chess with him, beating me every single time. This was strange, since I considered myself an excellent chess player. I guess I was just a little distracted. Abraxas excused himself to his dorm room, saying that he had a ton of homework to do. He gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“Something on your mind?” Rosier asked me. I sighed and slumped down in my chair.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m still kind of upset about what happened with Tom. Why do you guys let him treat you all so awfully?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Being friends with Riddle has advantages and disadvantages. The occasional hex or punch to the face isn’t much of a price to pay.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“One of these days I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” I said with a grin. Rosier chuckled and patted my arm.

“Good luck with that.”

A few hours later I was lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I had been trying desperately to fall asleep. But something was still on the back of my mind, and that something was preventing me from being able to relax. I let out a sigh and rolled out of bed. I slipped out of my room and quietly walked down the stairs, into the common room. I then made my way up the stairs leading to the boys dormitory. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and my nostrils were instantly filled with the smell of smoke. Tom stood inches away from me, still in his school uniform. He was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet-name.

“You are absolutely insane, Riddle! You walk around this damn school like you own the place, and I’m sick of it.” He smiled and offered out his arm to me.

“If you’re going to yell at me, then you might as well do it behind closed doors,” he offered. I didn’t take his hand, but I did step inside and let him shut the door behind me. Since he was Head Boy, his room was bigger than all of ours. I could see that his window was open, probably because of the smoke. His bed had black silky sheets adorning it, and I could see all of the books on his desk were neatly stacked. His box of cigarettes was laying on his nightstand.

“So did you come here just to tell me off or did you want a smoke as well?” he taunted.

I turned around to face him again.

“I want you to stop hitting my boyfriend. And the rest of the boys. You have to learn how to respect others.” He chuckled darkly while taking a step towards me.

“Darling, that’s a pretty demanding request. My respect has to be earned.” In an attempt to look more confident, I crossed my arms across my chest.

“You’re such a child, Tom. I don’t know why you think that everyone worships you!” I shouted at him. He quickly wrapped his free hand around my neck and pushed me against the wall. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

“That’s because everyone does. Everyone except you it seems.” I don’t know why Tom had this constant need to slam me up against the wall and choke me. It didn’t make me afraid of his dumbass.

Honestly, it was kind of hot. He brought his other hand up to my face and he touched my cheek softly.

“Did you and Malfoy ever finish what you started yesterday?” It took me a moment to realize that he was asking if we had fucked.

“That’s none of your business,” I snapped at him. He tightened his grip on my throat and used one of his legs to pin down mine.

“Answer my question.”

“No, I haven’t slept with him. Why do you care?” Tom brought his head down to my neck and whispered into my ear.

“Because I’m not into sloppy seconds.” Before I had a chance to mention the fact that he probably had over twenty bodies, he started kissing me roughly. I kissed him back and wrapped my leg around one of his. I let him suck on my neck as he pushed my thin nightgown up my leg and slipped one of his hands under it. He started to slowly rub circles on my thigh. He continued to suck on my neck as I tried to grind against him. He growled and used his other hand to push my waist back against the wall.

“None of that. Do you want me to touch you, darling?” he asked in a mocking tone. I nodded and he slipped his fingers into my underwear.

“Someone’s a needy little slut,” he whispered. Part of me wanted to call him a man-whore, but the part of me that valued my life kept me quiet. I felt him push two fingers inside me and I whimpered. He started to rub my clit with his thumb as he thrusted his fingers in and out of me. He started kissing my neck again as I moaned quietly. He was going incredibly slow, making me desperate for every touch. At a particularly sharp pressure, one of my legs twitched and I had to bite my lip to stop from making noise. Tom chuckled and tilted my chin towards him.

“Didn’t you come here to yell at me? Are you going to yell at me now, darling?” He started to rub me faster, which made it difficult for me to even speak.

“I hate you,” I was able to mutter. He laughed and pinched my waist roughly, making me jump. After only a few minutes, I was starting to get close to my peak. I felt my legs start to shake as I bit my lip to stifle my moans. Tom noticed this, so he stopped touching me. I frowned as he leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“Did you really think I was going to let you come that quickly?”

Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed my legs and spun me around, pushing me onto his bed. He quickly tugged my nightgown off of me and started to take off his shirt. I tried to reach up and help him, but he used his free hand to push me back onto the bed. He quickly unbuckled his belt and kicked his pants off before getting on top of me. I felt his member pressing against my thigh. He wrapped a hand around my throat again and used the other hand to gently rub one of my hips.

“Is this what you want? Me to fuck you senseless while your boyfriend sleeps two rooms over?” I felt him rub against my clit, teasing me purposefully. I decided that I wouldn’t tell him that me and Abraxas weren’t actually dating until later.

“Tom-”

“Shut up,” he growled before thrusting into me sharply. As he rocked into me, I definitely felt a bit of pain. He was bigger than what I was used to, but I was adjusting quickly. I tried to rest my arms on his shoulders, but he didn’t like that. He pinned my hands above my head and started to attack my neck with his mouth.

“If you do that again, I’ll tie you down. Don’t test me,” he muttered. He continued to rail into me over and over, hitting me at just the right angle. In less than ten minutes I was close again. I tightly clenched the sheets and tried to grind my hips against his to alleviate some of the tension. That’s when he slipped out of me with a grin.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said while stroking my hair.

“Are you fucking serious?” I complained.

“Completely. Be a good girl and maybe I’ll let you finish before the night is over.”

I will admit, his self-control was pretty impressive. Most guys wouldn’t be able to handle pulling out before they had finished. But I also figured that he was just bluffing. There was no way he would be able to do this for more than twenty minutes. After 30 or so seconds of him attacking my mouth with his tongue, he thrusted into me again. This time his strokes were a bit slower and more gentle. He rubbed one of my arms lightly as he made me shiver at his touch.

“Tom, oh my God,” I moaned into his neck. I assumed he was going to tell me to shut up, but I guess he liked knowing how good he was making me feel.

“That’s right, darling. You like this?” I nodded my head as he pressed soft kisses against my jawline. I was definitely pleased with his change of pace. The slow stroked and gentle kisses made this feel a bit more like a normal thing. But of course, that didn’t last very long. Once he was done leaving hickies all over my neck, he wrapped his hand around it. He started to press himself deeper inside of me, rocking me into his bed. I whimpered as he hit a spot that made my legs twitch.

“Quiet, slut,” he demanded. I tilted my head slightly away from him, trying to stifle my moans with one of his pillows. I was panting at this point, desperately gripping onto the sheets.

“Could Malfoy make you feel this good?”

“Yeah, if I was with him I would’ve came by now,” I thought to myself. However, I shook my head in an attempt to appease him.

“That’s right. Should I let you finish now?” I nodded and he jerked my face back towards him. “Alright. Beg for it.” That actually made me laugh. There was no way I was going to give into him that easily. Tom shrugged and continued to pound into me. “Be difficult then. I don’t care either way.”

I bit down my lip to muffle a scream as my stomach flipped and my legs shook. Right when I was about to be sent over the edge, he pulled out of me again. By now, I was completely fed up with him. I tried to bring one of my hands down between my legs, but he was quicker than me. He grabbed both of my arms and roughly pinned them above my head.

“I don’t think so, dear. I want the whole hallway to hear you screaming my name,” he said while stroking my cheek tauntingly.

“Good luck with that,” I said with an eye roll.

“You’re mine now. No one gets to touch you but me,” he muttered into my ear before thrusting into me again. By now I could see finger-shaped bruises starting to form on my waist. We had been going at it for at least 35 minutes, and my body was aching for release. I was confident that he had left at least 5 or so hickies on my neck, which I was not looking forward to having to cover up tomorrow. Out of instinct, I tried to move my leg around his to adjust the angle. Tom slammed me down onto his bed roughly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled. He pressed one of his thumbs against my clit, making me whimper. I was so frustrated that tears had started to stream down my face. Tom gently wiped them away with his free hand.

“Are you gonna apologize for yelling at me earlier?” he asked in a snarl. I shook my head, which made him chuckle.

“That’s what I thought. If you’re gonna be like that, you clearly haven’t learned your lesson.” He started to kiss roughly at my collar, obviously trying to mark me more. After a few minutes of listening to me whine and pant, he decided to give me another chance.

“Promise me you’ll stop hanging around Malfoy,” he said softly. That kind of threw me for a loop.

“What? Why?” He nibbled on my ear lobe and thrusted into me sharply.

“You’re my little slut now. I don’t want him touching you. Promise me.” I instinctively shook my head, which only made his thrusts even harder.

“Promise me, darling. Like I said, I can go all night.” I really, really wanted to keep my mouth shut. But I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t take much more.

“Fine. I promise. Please Tom, I-”

He bit down on my lip and thrusted into me at the perfect angle and speed.

Over-and-over again.

I moaned his name as well as a stream of profanities as waves of pleasure tore through my body. My legs were shaking so bad that he had to actually hold them down. While I was riding out my high, Tom muttered praises into my ear. I was so extremely sensitive that every touch set off fireworks against my skin.

“Take me like a good girl,” he said before roughly grabbing my throat. It took him a few minutes to finish himself off, but when he did it was so hot. He didn’t even bother to pull out. He continued to kiss me for a bit before he got up and started to walk towards his bathroom.

“Now, get the hell out of my room, whore.”

I smiled at his lovely term of endearment as I tried to quickly pull my clothing back on. I stood up quickly, and my legs gave out beneath me. Tom laughed as he put on his bathrobe.

“You’re pathetic,” he said while helping me up. Surprisingly enough, he walked me back to my dorm, smiling the entire way. Before he turned to leave he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Sleep well, darling.” I flashed him a sweet smile.

“You too, Riddle.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #smut #tom riddle oneshot #oneshot #harry potter #hogwarts #slytherin #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #fanfic

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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Head Over Feet - Chapter 1

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Spencer Reid/Female Reader (Unrequited) Word Count: 5,233 Chapters: 4/4 Complete Tags: (Will be 18+, NSFW in future chapters) Unrequited Love, TW Suicide by cop Summary: Falling in love with one of your two closest friends was never something you planned; it only makes sense that falling in love with the other would also come as a complete surprise. *Inspired by/in collaboration with @ssamorganhotchner. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Link to AO3 or read chapter 1 below! It’s 3 AM—well, you are in a part of suburban Indiana where it’s 3 AM, but that makes it a Virginia 4 AM—and rain patters against the window behind your head as you slump over in your usual spot on the jet’s couch. You are exhausted, the whole team is exhausted, and you’ve just closed your eyes when a warm body presses against yours, thigh to shoulder, and there is a soft sigh in your ear.

“I shouldn’t make coffee. I shouldn’t make coffee, right?” Spencer murmurs, and you turn to look at him, can’t help the fondness that shapes your smile. His hair is untidy from running his hands through it, his eyes tired and rimmed red, and his headphones are dangling around his neck, just like always. He’s so close to you your noses are almost touching.

You return his sigh. So many things in life are unpredictable, but your partner, your closest friend, is always a constant.

“You absolutely should not make coffee,” you say, your voice quiet in the dim cabin. “We’ll be home in almost an hour, and then you’re going to go to bed.”

“At this point, wouldn’t it be better to just stay awake?” he asks with a groan, resting his head against the seat behind him, and you roll your eyes.

“I know the statistics, and if I do, then so do you. Being awake for 24 hours is equivalent to having a 0.10 percent BAC. There’s no way you’ll make it through the day without hurting yourself.” You hear a soft laugh from your right, and it’s Aaron; you hadn’t even realized he was paying attention. You raise your voice a little. “Plus, Hotch said we don’t have to come in until ten.”

He glances over his shoulder at you, eyebrows raised.

“Did I say that?” His lips curve up in a soft smile, and his expression is warm despite the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Don’t you remember? I said, ‘Hotch, you should let us come in at ten so we can get some extra sleep. I think it would really benefit the team.’ Then you said, ‘You know what, you’re right. Wow, you really are the smartest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.’” You smile brightly, fully aware you’re being silly; it surprises you when his smile falters a bit, nearly imperceptibly.

“Hmm. Now that you mention it, I do remember something like that. I’m a great boss for agreeing to it.”

“The absolute best,” you reply easily, and the two of you look at each other for just a moment before he turns back to his work and you turn back to Spencer. “So, like I said. Hotch said we don’t have to come in until ten. You need to sleep.”

“It will be after 5:00 by the time we get to the office, more like 5:30. Ten minute wait for the forty-five minute train home means I’ll get there at 6:25—” You are not normally one to cut Spencer off when he gets talking, but this is sleep-deprived rambling, not an informational address, so you place a hand gently on his arm and he falls silent.

“So come stay at my place. I’m closer and you won’t have to wait for the train. We can get a few hours in and then stop at the coffee shop before we head to the office, okay?” The way he looks at you, soft, appreciative, makes it feel like you’re the only two people on the jet for a moment, and he wets his lips, nods.

“Okay. Thank you.” You smile.

“Of course. Maybe rest your eyes; if you fall asleep, I’ll wake you when we get there.” He turns on his music, leans against your shoulder, and takes your suggestion; it’s only a few minutes later that his breathing evens out, softens, and you try and fail to ignore the way that makes your heart ache in your chest.

When the plane lands and you’re grabbing your things, you come up behind Aaron, curl a hand around his arm just above his elbow. He turns to look at you, and he’s more worse for wear than you thought, so pale and tired up close.

“You’re going to go home and get some sleep, right?” All that changes is the set of his eyes, but that’s enough for you to know he has no intention of going home; you sigh. “Am I going to have to force you to come stay at my place too?”

It would be the first time he’s stayed over, where Spencer has crashed with you a handful of times; you are close with the both of them, but Aaron you spend more time with at lunch, or late nights eating dinner in his office, where Spencer comes over for movies or board games regularly. The dynamics of your friendships with them are so different, but both so good, so unexpected. You wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“That’s not necessary,” he says, doesn’t look like it’s a thought he wants to entertain. Maybe he thinks it’s crossing a line? Spencer will be there, so you don’t understand why he’d feel that way, but you don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“I just want you to rest. It’s really no trouble, I have a guest room.” Spencer always opts for your long, overstuffed sectional sofa, so there’s more than enough room for Aaron to stay and get a few hours of sleep. He just shakes his head shortly.

“Thank you, but it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I appreciate your concern,” he says, and that’s clearly the end of the conversation. You just sigh, slide your hand off the back of his arm.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.” You walk away from him, over to where Spencer is waiting for you, and the two of you get into your car and head to your place.

By the time you get there, Spencer is basically a big, sleepy baby, and you have to carry both of your bags into your apartment and keep your arm around him so he doesn’t slump over. You lean him up against the wall while you unlock your door, then push him gently onto the couch while you grab pillows, blankets, and sheets.

He has clothes in his go bag to change into, but you don’t bother trying to wake him enough for that, just make up a bed for him and take off his shoes, maneuvering him into a somewhat comfortable position.

“Hmm. Thank you,” he mumbles when you cover him with a warm blanket, and he turns his head to kiss you softly on your cheek, then burrows his face into the pillow and falls asleep.

You walk into your bedroom, kick off your shoes, set an alarm, and flop down face first onto your bed. Later that morning, you and Spencer bring coffee and breakfast pastries for everyone; you take Aaron’s coffee and a cherry danish and walk up to his office, knock on the doorframe with your elbow.

You are happy to see he looks a little better than when you left him, and he even softly smiles when he sees you standing there.

“Good morning again. Brought you a little pick-me-up.” You step into the room, set down the coffee and the napkin with the danish on it in the middle of his desk, then lean against it with one hand on the desk and the other hand on your hip. “You look decent.” He chuckles lightly.

“Somehow that doesn’t feel like a compliment.”

“It’s not, it’s an, ‘I wish you would have gotten some rest instead of being stubborn, but I guess it turned out okay.’” He looks into your eyes for a moment, and you hold his gaze. “When someone wants to take care of you, Aaron, you should let them.”

He looks away first, down at the lid of his coffee cup, clears his throat.

“That’s not always possible, but I really do appreciate your concern.” He sounds crestfallen in a way you don’t quite understand, and you hate that he feels that he can’t accept help. You’d hoped he was over that kind of backward thinking.

“You can talk to me about anything. I thought we were close enough for you to know that.”

“We are,” he agrees, looking over at you. There is that same dejected set to his eyes, and it makes you hurt for him. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him like this, years, back when his divorce was still a fresh wound. “Sometimes that’s not always possible either, even if I might want to.”

“I won’t judge you, you know. I care about you.” You reach out to put your hand on his, a gentle, comforting touch. “There’s nothing you could say to me that would change that.”

You are interrupted by a knock at the door—it’s Spencer, with a mouth full of cinnamon roll. Aaron pulls his hand away abruptly like the two of you are doing something wrong, and you furrow your brow. Spencer doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, JJ said there might be a case. We’re meeting.”

“Another case?” You take a few steps away from the desk, cross your arms, give Aaron some space. “We just got back five hours ago.”

“Sounds like we should have gone straight there instead. Spree killer, five dead.” He ducks back out of the room, takes off down the hall, and you turn back to Aaron. He’s standing, smooths a hand down the front of his shirt, and you sigh.

“What are the odds I can convince you to take a power nap on the jet? 50:1?” He cracks a smile despite his earlier demeanor, takes the coffee you brought and passes you on his way to the door.

“I’d guess more like 75.” You roll your eyes, grab his danish, take a big bite, and then catch up to him and hand him the rest to finish.

The case takes you to Connecticut, where you are paired with Derek to take witness statements at the precinct. The local police know the identity of the killer, a forty year old man named John Jackson, and your team has predicted that he won’t stop until you find him, and that he will likely attempt to go down via suicide by cop when you do, so everyone is on edge.

After almost three hours of taking statements, you and Derek break for water and coffee, stand at the watercooler shaking your heads.

“This guy is unpredictable. There could be another five, ten bodies before we finally catch up to him,” Derek says, taking a long chug of water, and you cross your arms, lean back against the counter of the kitchenette.

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that. We’ve got roadblocks, right?” He nods.

“Every road in and out of town, with cops at all highway exits.” You vaguely remember the chief saying that, now that he mentions it; the hours are all starting to blend together, between the case and the lack of sleep, and your team is relying heavily on each other to fill in the gaps.

“Right. And helicopters.” You rub a hand slowly over your hair. “I hate these cases; it’s like the profile isn’t any good until you get to him, and by then it’s too late.” You check your watch, and it’s nearing rush hour, a good time to touch base with the team; you shoot Derek a glance, pull out your phone and gesture toward the hall, step out and dial Aaron.

When he answers, he sounds tense, so you don’t bother with pleasantries.

“Hey, just checking in. Derek and I are about done here; where do you need us?”

“There’s a checkpoint on I-95, mile marker 48; we have a few officers manning it, but we could use a car here, so if you two head there you can send one of them our way.”

“Got it: I-95, mile marker 48,” you repeat as Derek joins you in the hall. “Send a car your way.”

“Yes. Be careful,” he says almost like it’s an afterthought, and you shake your head lightly—as if you are careless any other time.

“We will, you too. Bye.” You end the call, lock your phone, raise an eyebrow in Derek’s direction. “Want me to drive?”

“Oh, and put my life in the hands of Speed Racer?” He takes the keys out of his pocket, holds them out like he’s handing them to you, then pulls them away.

“I've taken several defensive driving courses; I’m probably a better driver than you.” He holds them out again and you snatch them out of his hand. “And sometimes you have to be fast.”

That statement proves true when you are on your way to mile marker 48 and Derek spots the car the unsub was last seen driving. He confirms the plate number, confirms it again, just because your brains are kind of mush, and then you share a look and slam your foot on the gas.

Thank god for all those defensive driving courses.

“Hotch,” Morgan barks into his phone a few seconds later, “we’ve got eyes on the suspect. He’s headed northbound on I-95—we just passed marker 44. We’re in pursuit.” The unsub weaves in and out of traffic, a chorus of colorful language and horns blaring in his wake, and you do your best to keep up while maintaining a safe distance from other cars.

The chase goes on for several miles, and there seems to be no end in sight until you can eventually make out the red glow of the car’s brake lights from across the highway. It’s both a good and bad sign, one you were prepared for.

“He’s gonna bail, Derek.” You cut across several lanes of traffic to make your way to the side of the road, so you can pull off as close to him as possible. “We have to try to talk him down. Think he’ll listen to me?” The whole rampage was triggered by the anniversary of the man’s wife’s death, and you look similar enough that it’s a good possibility. Derek agrees.

“Worth a shot. Just keep your damn gun drawn,” he says, and you huff. You’re pretty sure every member of the team has used the ‘weapons down’ tactic on multiple occasions, but somehow only you and Spencer are always reminded of it.

“I will, but if he wants me to kill him, I’m not going to make it easy.” The unsub goes several hundred feet farther before pulling over, and you follow behind, turn on your four-ways, jump out of the car. Derek covers you, and you approach the vehicle slowly, gun drawn. “John Jackson. Leave your weapon on the seat and exit the vehicle with your hands up.”

The door opens, and you see one empty hand, but he still clutches a pistol in the other. Derek looks over at you, but you don’t dare take your eyes off of John.

“John. Put the gun down. I know you feel hopeless right now, like there’s no way out of this situation, but I promise you there is a way. I’m here to help you.” For the first time, he looks over at you, and you can see the pain in his gaze; it’s clear the man is broken, eyes sunken deeply in despair. He raises the gun—doesn’t point it at you, just raises it into the air.

“You can’t help me. No one can. She’s gone, and I’m left here—in pieces.” The last word is a sob, and you swallow hard, take a step closer.

“I know how much Kathleen meant to you, John, and I’m sorry for your loss. So sorry. But you know this isn’t how she would have wanted things to turn out for you; you know that, right? She loved you.”

“It wasn’t enough, in the end.” He wipes his forearm across his eyes, and Derek tenses, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but that’s the only move John makes. “She took everything with her and left me empty.”

“It doesn’t have to feel like that forever. I promise you.” You take another step forward, hand outstretched. “If you just set the gun on the ground, I’ll come over and put you in some handcuffs. We’ll have to go to the police station first, but then we’re going to get you help. You’ll feel better.”

John says nothing for several seconds; you are so aware of yourself, your surroundings, that you feel each breath you take as if your body is moving in slow motion. You can see Derek tense again, just slightly; you can hear the sound of another car pulling up behind yours, of doors opening and closing, of shoes on pavement and guns drawn.

“John.” He sighs, presses his lips together, shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to feel better. I want to feel nothing.” He points his gun at you, and you don’t have another choice. If it’s not you, it will be someone else on your team.

He made his choice; you make your non-choice and pull the trigger.

You run to his side when he falls, and so does Derek: no pulse. You’re a good shot. It doesn’t feel like something to be proud of right now. You stand, and so does Derek; he reaches out a hand, places it on your shoulder.

“You tried, you know?” His voice is low, a little rough, and you nod your head. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Thanks.” You don’t say you won’t, can’t guarantee that. The two of you turn around, face the others, and you inhale deeply, exhale deeply, shake your head. Aaron and Spencer both come forward, and you’re a little torn, not sure whose eyes to seek for reassurance, whose words to seek for comfort.

Spencer makes the decision for you, jogs toward you and puts his hands on your shoulders, wraps his arms around you in a hug. You hold him close, rest your head against his arm, and look behind him, at Aaron, who seems more affected than you would have thought. You want to pull him in too, but he is not the public display of affection type, so you let Spencer be enough.

After a few minutes, local law enforcement arrives on the scene, as well as the coroner, and Spencer ushers you into an SUV so you can head back to the precinct.

That night, you are not just tired, but weary, when you make it home. You strip off your clothes and take a quick shower in hopes it will make you feel a little better, then pull on a short, fleece robe and pad to the kitchen to make a cup of herbal tea. You’re just throwing out the tea bag when there’s a knock at the door, and you take your mug with you to answer it.

You aren’t surprised that it’s Aaron on the other side.

“Hi.” Your voice sounds weak to your own ears, but he just nods, takes in your robe and mug of tea, offers his own greeting. “Do you want to come in?” You take a step back and he walks past you into the living room, sits down beside you when you curl up on the sofa. You face him, your shoulder against the back of the couch, your hands in your lap, holding your tea, and he mirrors your posture.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I know what happened today was difficult for you.” The expression on his face is careful, guarded, but concerned. “How are you doing?”

You reach forward to set your tea on a coaster on the table, scooting a little closer.

“I’m doing alright.” He looks skeptical, stares you down with serious eyes, and you sigh, give in to his silence. You’re not one to easily fold under pressure, but when Aaron is the one applying it, it’s difficult not to. “It’s never easy to kill someone, but… it’s just a little harder when it's someone who clearly needed help, something we could have given him. It’s harder when we’re just too late.”

“I can understand that. Things could have gone so differently if he’d gotten help when he needed it. Maybe no one would have gotten hurt.” He reaches out a hand to carefully cover yours in your lap, looks at you with tender eyes. “Try not to focus on the maybe, okay? Life is hard enough without beating yourself up for something out of your control.”

You nod your head, blink back tears, and lean forward, resting your cheek against his shoulder; he puts his arm around your back and holds you tightly, allows you your moment, and when you begin to pull away he reaches for your tea, takes a sip.

“Minty,” he says, then hands you the mug, and you smile softly, take a sip too.

“It’s Sleepytime tea. Helps me wind down before bed.” It’s not until you say it that it dawns on you—how late it is, that he’s here anyway after almost two days with no sleep. “Let me make you a cup and then put you up in the guest room. Please,” you murmur when he looks like he’s going to decline. “It would make me feel a lot better about today. Just knowing you’re nearby.”

“Are you trying to guilt trip me?” he asks, arching a brow, and you shake your head quickly, reach for his hand again.

“No, no. Of course not. I just know you’re tired, and it would be nice to have a friend close tonight.” You squeeze his fingers, your hand warm from the tea, take a deep breath. “Stay?”

“I’ll go get my bag out of the car,” he says eventually, and you can’t help smiling.

“Okay. I’ll make you some tea.” The next couple of months are fairly commonplace, with cases dotted here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing like those few sleepless days.

You have dinner with Aaron in his office a couple times a week, and it’s always comforting and enjoyable, that easy companionship. You spend time with Spencer at one of your apartments a couple evenings a week, and that’s where things get complicated.

He’s one of your closest friends in the world, one of two people you would do anything for, drop everything for at a moment's notice. As it turns out, he may also be more than that.

You’ve noticed for a while that you tend to gravitate toward him, that you’re drawn to him when he’s speaking, like an invisible magnetic pull. That you can’t help staring at his lips when he talks, his hands when he adds gestures, the serious look of contemplation on his face when he debates his next move as you play chess.

It feels innocent, mostly, until one day he leans over your shoulder to speak into your ear while you’re getting snacks in the kitchen, and you feel your face heat, your heart pound in your chest. He lays a hand on your back, which is not unusual, but he may as well be putting it down your pants for the way it makes you feel in that moment.

You open your mouth to say something, but ultimately you stop yourself. What would you even say? I think I might be in love with you? I think I want you? I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship? Anything of those things would be the wrong thing, so you just push it to the back of your mind and do your best to let it go.

“Are you feeling okay?” Spencer asks one day while you’re pouring coffee in the breakroom, and rightfully so, because you’ve been avoiding him like he’s contagious for the better part of a week. He looks especially cute today, and he’s in a great mood, smiling and laughing at everything Derek and Emily say, and it’s too much for you to handle. You’re just proud of yourself for not saying something embarrassing.

“I’m okay,” you assure him with a light smile you don’t feel. “I’m just a little off today; I’m sure it will pass. Thanks, though.” You fill his mug, and he smiles back, nods.

“Of course. We can skip movie night tonight, if you’re not feeling up to it. I think we’ve both probably seen An American Werewolf in London enough times that we could recite it line for line anyway.” You have to laugh at that, because it’s true; it’s one of your favorites, always so easy to poke fun at that the two of you dissolve into giggles half an hour in.

“You’re definitely right about that. Yeah, let’s cancel for tonight. I’ll go to bed early, get some rest, be good as new tomorrow. Thanks for understanding,” you murmur, turning to look up at him, and he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“You’re welcome. I just hope you feel better soon.”

You hope you figure out what to do soon, too.

You’re getting ready to leave work later that night, shortly after everyone else has gone, when Aaron steps up beside you, clears his throat.

“Do you have plans for tonight? I was just about to order dinner.” You sigh, run a hand over your hair.

“Um. I was supposed to watch movies with Spencer, but I cancelled on him.” His gaze sweeps over you like he’s looking for signs of distress, eyes gentle but appraising.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes and no.” You immediately regret saying that, because it puts him on alert and you aren’t really in the mood to discuss it. “Yes—everything’s alright. I’d love dinner, if you don’t mind the company. And it’s my turn to pay.” You take out your wallet, shove the rest of your bag back under your desk, turn to look up at him. He’s still staring at you like he’s trying to assess your emotional state, and you exhale softly. “Can we just… eat and talk about Jack?”

It takes him a moment, but he nods, pulls out his phone. It’s nonchalant, just quiet acceptance of your terms; his eyes are kind when he looks back over at you.

“I have pictures of him from his last soccer game.” You feel almost overwhelmed with relief, lean against his arm to look at the photos of Jack and his friends in their uniforms, laughing and happy on the field. “Do you want tacos?” he asks, low, after a moment, and you nod your head and smile softly up at him.

“Yeah, but it’s Friday. Why don’t we just go eat? Work can wait until Monday.” It’s a suggestion you’ve made many times before, but this time, to your surprise, he agrees; you grab your bag, and he drives you to the restaurant where you have a margarita, and too many tacos, and so many laughs it’s like he’s almost a different person. He drops you off at your car afterward, and you lean across the seat for a hug, thank him again for taking you out—because, of course, he insisted on paying the bill even though it was your turn. It’s a better evening than you’ve had in the last few weeks.

You mess that up severely by going home and watching An American Werewolf in London anyway, and afterward you lay in bed, try to fall asleep, and think about what you’re going to do about Spencer. It’s almost midnight when you have the dumb idea to go see him—and it’s pouring, which makes it even dumber.

You text him to see if he’s still awake, and he doesn’t answer, but when you park you can see that his bedroom light is on, so you buzz anyway. He lets you up, clearly confused as to what you’re doing there so late; so are you, to be honest, but for some reason it finally felt like the right time to lay it all out on the line. When he opens the door, he looks even more taken aback than he sounded.

“Are you okay? It’s after midnight, and you’re soaked,” he says, pulling you inside and closing the door, and you shake your head.

“No, not really. I’m sorry for springing this on you, Spence, I really am.” You take a deep breath, try to calm yourself; your heart is racing. “I think I love you. You were the first person I clicked with when I started at the BAU, and it has become a genuine friendship that I treasure, but lately I’ve been feeling… more.” He wets his lips, frowns.

“I don’t think now is the right—” A slightly unhinged laugh escapes you, and it stops him mid-sentence.

“I know it’s not the right time, but I don’t think there will ever be a right time, so I’m just… just putting it out there, okay? I think I love you. I can see myself with you, I—I think we could be good together. And I know this is sudden…” you trail off when you see movement behind him; you lean to the side to peer around him, but he blocks you with his body. “Is someone here?”

“I tried to tell you it’s not a good time,” he says, and he sounds apologetic and maybe a little embarrassed on your behalf. You swallow hard.

“Who’s—who’s here? Is it someone I know?” He shakes his head, and you exhale a ragged breath. That’s a small miracle, at least, that you didn’t just spew a love confession in front of one of your friends—well, two of your friends. “I should go. I need to go—I’m sorry.” You back up, but you bump into the door noisily; you forgot he’d closed it behind you. Someone comes into the hall to check on the sound, and of course, it’s a beautiful woman wearing one of Spencer’s sweaters and not much else. She is your opposite in every way, and that makes it hurt so much worse.

You really never stood a chance.

“Spencer? Is everything okay?” she asks, arms crossed over her chest, and you fumble for the doorknob, wrench the door open, and take off down the hall.

You run for your car—the rain has only gotten heavier, and if you were soaked before, you’re downright sodden now, your clothes soaked through—and you tug on the door handle, but it doesn’t budge: locked, of course. You pat your pockets for your keys, but by the time you find them, the small surge of adrenaline you felt has left your body, and all you feel is heartbreak.

You rest your arms against the window, your head against your arms, and take several deep, gasping breaths; tears follow, burning hot, streaming down your face, and for a few moments you just let them, let yourself ache with embarrassment and bitterness until it physically hurts to continue.

You exhale softly, wipe your face with your wet sleeve as if that fixes the problem, and then unlock your car and head to the only place—the only person—you can think of with your head so messed up.

Taglist 🤍: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x reader #head over feet

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beann-e · 4 years ago

Text

Haikyu! boys reacting to their s/o flinching during an argument

Karasuno boys reacting to their s/o flinching

Tsukishima

“ what’s the problem are you serious are you not even understanding why we’re here in the first place“

“ oh I understand—really but I just don’t care “ he moved to think before speaking

“ I actually don’t think i’ve ever had one of those cares when I hear you talk “

you fumed “ i’m so so sick of this Tsukishima i’m so sick of everything having sarcasm in it —you can’t be serious for two seconds “

he moved to throw up a peace sign before his fingers dropped one by one “ is that two seconds — i’m not sure if you meant literally because according to you I look like a grade school swim team member who doesn’t know basic communication skills”

you felt your throat beginning to hurt you’d been screaming with him for hours over his comments he’d made about the cake you ate earlier

as soon as you sat down on the couch he spoke telling you

‘ babe maybe you should’ve saved that cake for later I can feel the extra weight weighing down mine and your side of the couch ‘

“ I can’t be serious no you can’t be serious — you fucking told me that your sorry i’m so skinny that my legs look like toothpicks in the shorts that you bought me “ he screamed

“ you bought them on purpose they were a size large you know i’m a size small you just wanted to be fucking funny “

you scoffed as you two were now standing in the kitchen while he was cooking dinner. His body turning to look down on you.

you could never say tsukishima got mad at you he never did he would just get really annoyed and make more sarcastic comments then he did in his free time but right now you couldn’t figure out what was so different about him

About his voice

About his body that was making him seem like the boss at the end of a video game you just couldn’t beat

“ i’m just really tired of everything being turned into a slick comment with you tsukki and then you can’t even say a shitty sorry you just look at me like i’m crazy “

he sighed as he looked away “ look baby— “ he pushed up his glasses that were threatening to fall

“ i’m really sorry for all the mean , awful , accurate , things I said “

your body went hot as you screamed “ THATS NOT A FUCKING SORRY “

“ well why the hell would you think you’d get one from me “

he screamed at you backing you up eyes still downcast on you

“ you —annoying —child —every fucking five seconds your complaining about something now it’s how I talk ? before it was how I don’t show you enough physical affection in public are you serious “

you heart quickened as his body jerked at you almost threatening you “ what else do you want from me huh “

“ want me to fuckin—“

you closed your eyes and your body moved on instinct to cover your face body sinking into itself in a hole before standing up trying to protect yourself as the loud clack went through the house

Your breathing fast as you had all the worse possibilities move through your head that was rattling along with your body in fear

“ aw damn — their cracked anyways we gotta figu—“

his voice stopped as he came face to face with your covered body “ a-are you dancing or something why the fuck are you —“

then his thoughts clicked as his blurry eyes ran over the way your arms were above your head and body tucked in as if trying to limit the pain you would feel wherever he touched you

“uh “ he coughed as you relaxed looking at the male with wide eyes as you spoke

“ no I didn’t —I didn’t think “

“ um — so i’m not gonna take offense and instead i’m just gonna “

he moved to sit his glasses on the table before his hand grabbed your head forcefully and pushed you into his stone cold chest your body flaring up and shaking

“ yeah you totally did —I wasn’t sure because I can’t see but yeah you did “

“ I - — I didn’t mean to —it was just so loud I thought — and you were yelling “

“ I would never hit you — I would never ever hit you with anything except my beautiful words “

you pushed out of his chest with a small smile trying to seem upset “ your still joking after something like that “

“ well i’m not a soft person what do you expect I mean I feel bad really bad but — “

“ I know I know — it’s better to make jokes than make it sad and make the both of us feel uncomfortable “

he moved his head down to kiss you softly “ I promise you it was just my glasses falling I would never hurt you y/n no matter if we fight or not “

he scoffed “ I love you and all that other crap blah blah “

you ran away with your hands to your ears “ no no I feel like you just put a curse on me — you’ve hugged me , kissed me , apologized and told me you love me all at one time I have to call yams and get an exorcist over here “

he scoffed “ just call Hinata his non stop talking could pass as an exorcism “

you smiled as he whispered small apologies in your ear all night the both of cringing when he would say them knowing he hated you feeling that way but also hating how the word sorry rolled off his tounge

Hinata

“ Great king that Great King this — I must beat The king — I have to beat this person and that person your always beating someone Hinata “

you cried as you stood fighting with him in the gym as he had sweat running down his forehead

you’d originally came here to watch him play a game between a team he had yet to beat that he told you they’d practiced for months to win.

Only for them to lose In a straight set of 2 that caused him to stay after and continue to practice in the same spot all night

You being the loving s/o you were decided to stay with him

only for him to take your kindness for granted and practice at the gym until 3 in the morning letting you wake up to the constant thump of the ball against the wall and your body shivering on the bench while he wore his jacket

“ DID YOU EVEN NOTICE I FELL ASLEEP “

“ of course I did “

“ then why didn’t you give me your jacket —babe I woke up freezing “

“ because I wanted it too— if I gave you my jacket what would I wear was I suppose to freeze “

you knew all rationality was thrown out the window when Hinata lost a match and right now that’s exactly what was happening

“ you can’t keep expecting me to put you first — it’s stupid “

he raised his voice “ the only thing i’ll put first is this ball in my hands and you may come in third to my team other than that — I don’t know what you want from me “

“ I want you to understand i’m here too —not just that lifeless ball Hinata “

he screeched at your words “ it’s not fucking lifeless”

“ I worked hard for this I worked hard for everything when I pick up that ball I put my energy into it when I —“

his hand outstretched as you sunk to the floor ears covered as you ducked into your knees hearing the loud smack moved to every corner of the room

“ that’s me putting life into the bal—baby where’d you go—if this is you telling me to stop—ok I get it I need to calm down “

he looked around the gym eyes finally searching the floor for the ball he’d thrown until they landed on your huddled figure

“ babe what —why are you on the floor come on its dirty get off “ you shook at his voice

“ w—why are you so scared I don’t understand come on stand up y/n “

you tried to calm down your body knowing you couldn’t tell him what just happened you knew Hinata wasnt innocent but you still didn’t want to break his heart not tonight not more than it already was argument or not

you moved to stand up as he grabbed the ball and threw it harshly to the wall for a second time

your body reacting out of control as it thought back to that moment of fear you had seeing him that angry at you and the same noise that followed after

“ y/n-chan did you just—“ his eyes creased “ baby why did you “

he said quietly thinking “ baby who hurt you “

his voice was concerned as he raced to you who shook a bit at his changing emotions taking a shaky step back to get away from him his eyes falling as he finally realized softly speaking

“ o-oh I hurt you “

he sat thinking as he pulled your arms from your face slowly “ I—i’m so sorry I don’t —it was the ball really it was the ball it went woosh and so I went weee to go get it I swear “

you straightened up cursing your body for reacting the way it did “ I didn’t mean to scare you that way I just —I was upset over a match and wanted to prove a point “

he moved to hug you tightly “ I’m so greatful for you and so lucky to have someone who would even stay with me for over 7 hours in a gym hearing nothing but loud noises and echoes —someone who’d fall asleep on the cold floor because they love me so much “

he hugged you tighter kissing your head repeatedly whispering the same line over and over “ i’d never hit you —i’d never hate you or be mad at you “

your tense nerves leaving as you sighed out wrapping your arms around his body “ I —I know and i’m sorry “

“ nothing to be sorry for I do need to put you first and I will from now on —I will “

he pulled you back as he spoke “ i’ll start putting you first and taking your needs into account and you start speaking up and saying no to me instead of doing everything I do or want you to do “

he smiled as he held his pinkie out “ promise baby? “

you shook your head in a yes smiling up at him “ promise “

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knox-knocks · 3 years ago

Note

on a place of insecurity for the kiss prompt please

you got it my friend :-*

tw for body image self confidence issues

Andrew didn't know why he cared. It had never been an issue before. But as he took off his shirt and smoothed his hand down his chest to his stomach, he felt a twinge of - of something. It was unpleasant. Andrew didn't particularly enjoy it.

Andrew let his hand fall to his side as he eyed himself in the mirror for a few seconds longer. Then he grabbed the bottle of pills Betsy prescribed him and shook one of the tiny blue candies into the palm of his hand. He raised it to his mouth, and swallowed it dry.

The living room was a bustle of activity. Neil was on his hands and knees looking for his shoe under the couch and Kevin had his hands full of a suspicious green smoothie that he was trying to coax Neil into trying with him. He was ranting about the merits of protein powder and whatever the hell else he put in it. Andrew didn't know how he could stomach that on top of the breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast Kevin ate every morning, but he also didn't care enough to ask.

Neil lifted his head when Andrew sauntered into the room. Kevin didn't stop talking, but Neil simply ignored him. He was fully dressed for the gym, though his hair was still a wild mess. In his hand, he triumphantly clutched his missing shoe.

"Hey," Neil said. A smile pulled at the edge of his mouth, a perfect companion to his tussled curls. "Did you take your meds?"

Andrew nodded and bypassed Kevin on the way to the kitchen. He stole a piece of bacon off Kevin's plate and an untouched pancake off Neil's. Andrew knew Neil had left it for him, anyway.

The gym was a sordid affair. A mix up and a scheduling conflict meant the Foxes had to share the gym equipment with the football team. Andrew waited, annoyed, for his turn on the weights. He ran laps on the treadmill next to Neil until a bench opened up for Andrew to take. Andrew switched off his treadmill and inclined his head towards Neil. Without so much as slowing, Neil flashed five fingers at him and increased his speed.

Five minutes later, Neil joined him at the weights section of the gym to spot him. Andrew didn't miss the way Neil's eyes lingered on his chest and biceps as he did his first rep. Andrew focused on the pull and strain of his muscles as he pumped his usual two hundred pounds. Bit by bit, it erased his previous insecurity until it was little more than a buzz in the back of his mind. It didn't hurt that Neil was still watching with half-lidded eyes and a quiet hunger.

Andrew replaced the bar on the hooks and raised his eyebrows at Neil. "If I drop the bar on my neck and die because you were distracted, I'm haunting you," he told him.

Neil ruffled his fingers through Andrew's hair, scattering the sweaty strands in ten different directions and then smoothing them back down again. "I wouldn't let that happen."

Andrew huffed and laid back down on the bench. He completed four more reps and removed some of the weights for Neil to do a few sets before Wymack called an end to gym time.

"Hey, Andrew." Nicky had draped himself over the five pound weights, hand tucked under chin and hair pulled into a small bun at the back of his head. "Do you wanna go to Eden's tonight?"

"Pass," Andrew said.

"Oh, come on," Nicky whined. "Just because you and Kevin can't drink doesn't mean the rest of us can't. Neil?"

"Sorry," Neil said, tone unapologetic.

"Drink at your own place," Andrew said.

"The only alcohol we have is the half-bottle of watered down vodka Matt keeps under the sink. That's not gonna get the three of us drunk."

Andrew blinked at him and Neil shrugged. "Figure it out," they said at the same time.

Nicky threw his hands up in exasperation and retreated.

Back at Fox Tower, Kevin left in a hurry with promises of watching the latest rerun of the Trojan vs Longhorns game with Neil thrown over his shoulder. Neil chased him down the hall until he confirmed they were, in fact, also watching the other games he had recorded. When he returned, he quirked an eyebrow at Andrew and jerked his head toward the bathroom.

"Shower with me?" he said.

That unpleasant feeling swirled in Andrew's belly. He shook his head. "I'll shower after you. Don't hog all the hot water."

Neil accepted that with a nod and placed a firm kiss on Andrew's jaw.

"You know," he said as he shucked his shirt over his head and threw it in the general direction of the bedroom, "I've been thinking of getting Kev those books he's been eyeing for being sober for three months. Do they celebrate three month sobriety?"

Andrew shrugged. "Get them anyway. I don't think I can handle any more drool on the computer keyboard."

"I'll order them today." Neil stepped in the doorway of the bathroom with his shorts balled up in his hands. "Hey. You okay?"

"Peachy."

Neil tilted his head until he caught Andrew's eye. Andrew didn't miss the crease of concern in his eyes. "The antidepressants still making you feel weird?"

"I've been worse."

Neil eyed him until Andrew grew tired of being scrutinized and ushered him toward the waiting shower. Neil left the door open and Andrew cast a lingering glance over his shoulder as he peeled off his boxers and stepped under the hot spray of the shower.

Andrew didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until the sound of Neil rummaging through the drawers for clean clothes woke him.

"Morning," Neil quipped. Andrew squinted at him from under his arms. "Shower's free."

Water beaded on Neil's shoulders and ran down the corded muscles in his back in thin rivulets. They disappeared in the fluffy towel still wrapped around Neil's waist. Neil shook out his hair and looked back in time to catch Andrew staring.

He raised his eyebrows.

Andrew rolled his eyes at Neil's smug expression and pulled him closer by the towel. "Asshole," he said, and kissed him.

Neil planted his hands on either side of Andrew's thighs and let the towel drop to the floor. He hummed and opened his mouth as Andrew directed the kiss with nimble fingertips on his jaw. Neil pulled back with a gasp and began kissing down his neck.

"Neil," Andrew said. His eyes fell shut when Neil sucked at the pulse in his neck. "I haven't showered yet. I'm sweaty and gross."

"We can shower when we're done." Neil pressed a hand against Andrew's back and bit at his collarbone. A surprised gasp slipped past Andrew's teeth.

"You're gross."

"You like it."

Andrew didn't deny it.

Neil worried at a spot on Andrew's throat and reached for the hem of his shirt. Andrew startled at the first brush of Neil's fingers against his bare skin. He jumped and reached for Neil's hands, but Neil was already moving back.

"Andrew?" he asked, looking him up and down, searching for what had triggered this reaction. His chest heaved, skin already flushed a distracting shade of pink. "What's wrong?'

"I don't want to take my shirt off." Andrew wouldn't meet Neil's gaze.

"Okay," Neil said. "Is everything okay?"

Andrew nodded, then shook his head. He chewed on his bottom lip. Neil gently reached out and pulled his lip out from his teeth with his thumb. He waited for Andrew to find the words. Neil was always so patient with him.

"I gained weight," Andrew said. When Neil said nothing, Andrew looked up to find him looking befuddled.

Maybe Neil didn't notice, but Andrew couldn't stop noticing. He knew it was the meds fucking with him, Betsy had said that would be a side effect, but it didn't stop Andrew from being self-conscious. He couldn't help comparing himself to Kevin and his green smoothies and defined abs, or Matt's chiseled chest. Andrew had always been on the heavier side, but it had always been made of muscle, and it had never bothered him before.

He was still strong. He could still protect himself. He was able to lift Neil up against the wall when they were kissing. It shouldn't have mattered.

Neil watched him for a moment longer and said, "Can I try something? I have to take off your shirt."

Andrew hesitated, but he trusted Neil. He nodded and lifted his arms so Neil could pull his shirt off. Then Neil pushed him with a gentle hand on his chest until he was flat on the bed.

The first kiss was right on Andrew's chest, just above his sternum. Neil never broke eye contact when he pressed his lips to his skin. He lingered there for just a heartbeat longer before he shifted so his mouth hovered above Andrew's stomach. His kisses were light, frustratingly so, until he placed a soft kiss onto the soft flesh on Andrew's tummy.

His lips tickled the blond hair there, and Neil left tiny butterfly kisses all over. Around his belly button, his navel, the sides that poked out of his waistband, until Andrew was relaxed and reassured underneath him. His eyes had drifted shut, nearly lulled back to sleep beneath Neil's soft touches.

When he was finished, he pulled himself up until he was face to face with Andrew. Their noses brushed. Andrew stole a kiss from him.

"I love your body," Neil said. "No matter what it looks like."

Andrew brushed the hair back from the side of his face and ran his hands down Neil's sides and over his back to settle above the slope of his ass. He plucked another kiss from Neil's lips. "I still need to shower," he said.

Neil huffed a laugh, pressed their foreheads together, and rolled off him. "Better hurry before Kevin gets back and steals the rest of the water."

"Over my dead body," Andrew sniped and tripped over Neil's discarded clothes in his haste to get a fresh towel. He doubled back to press a kiss to the crown of Neil's head.

"Thank you," he whispered against his hair. He didn't need to say anything else. Neil already understood.

#aftg #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #i don't edit these so if you see any mistakes shhh #mine #my writing #aftg fic #yes i would die for soft andreil #and soft tummy andrew

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favefandomimagines · 4 years ago

Text

It Will Always Be You (s.s.)

Summary: you and sebastian broke up less than a year ago and reunited at the Endgame premiere.

AN: i pulled this deeeeeep from the drafts because i’m watching the winter soldier so i wanted to share this and it’s also a total mess lol

taglist: @amourtentiaa

You got out of the car and were met with screaming fans and tons of photographers. Your pastel blue dress flowing behind you as you walked on to the carpet.

It was the Avengers: Endgame premiere and though you were ecstatic to celebrate such a successful film and the beginning of a new era, a feeling of anxiousness settled in the pit of your stomach.

As you were posing, Scarlet and Elizabeth quickly found you and joined you in a few pictures. Chris was the next person to greet you, the photographers yelling at the two of you to get a picture together.

“Have you seen him yet?” Chris asked as the two of you smiled for the cameras. “No. I’m terrified to see him. I mean, we rarely filmed together and when we did he didn’t talk to me.” You answered. “If you think he hates you, he doesn’t.” Chris said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He proposed and I said no. I’d hate me too.” You said.

Chris sent you a sympathetic look when Tom Holland gave you a quick hug. “You look stunning, Y/N.” He said to you. “Aw thanks, Tom.” You replied. “Funnily enough, you’re wearing light blue and Sebastian’s wearing light blue.” Tom said. “Tom,” You started. “It’s almost like you match.” Robert interjected.

You rolled your eyes before you walked off to do some short interviews. You were friends with one of the Entertainment Tonight reporters and you knew she was there.

As you were being guided on where to go, you heard your name being called and saw it was your friend calling you. However, she was interviewing Sebastian and Anthony. You swallowed the lump in your throat and put on a wide smile as you made your way over to her.

Sebastian turned his head and saw you coming and his heart sped up and his hands got clammy. Of course he thought you looked beautiful, with your blue dress that complimented your eyes and matched what he was was wearing and if he had to speak to you, he wouldn’t be able to form a cohesive sentence.

“Y/n! Oh my god, you look amazing!” She said to you as you hugged each other. “Speak for yourself!” You replied. “We were just talking about you.” She said giving you a mischievous smirk. “Oh god, all good things I hope.” You joked.

You and Anthony got along well so you weren’t surprised when he was the one doing most of the talking and Sebastian just smiled and nodded his head.

“How was it working all together?” Your friend asked, knowing better than to bring up your past with Sebastian. “It was great! Everyone is amazing and so talented and they made me better everyday.” You answered. “Yeah, we really fed off each other and collaborated a lot.” Anthony added.

Sebastian nodded before he spoke. “Yeah, yeah they pretty much covered it.” Sebastian replied with a small laugh. Your agent called you and you had to quickly excuse yourself.

“I’ve been summoned. I’ll see you guys later though!” You told them before bidding them goodbye.

Sebastian watched you walk to the next interviewer and he wanted nothing more than to talk to you. And he planned that when you both had a free moment, he would build up the courage to talk to you.

After about fifteen minutes, he saw you gathering your purse and phone from your agent before she left you alone. He stopped his conversation with Anthony and walked over to you.

“Uh, hey, Y/N.” He greeted you. Your head snapped up and your eyes widened slightly before you smiled at him. “Hey, Seb. How are you?” You asked. “I’m good. Just taking it all in. How have you been?” Sebastian replied. “I’ve been good. I just got asked to reprise my role from the Vampire Diaries so that’s exciting.” You explained. “Y/N, that’s great.” Sebastian said with a genuine smile.

“Thank you.” You replied. “You look beautiful by the way.” He commented out of the blue. “Really? This dress wasn’t my first choice.” You said with a small laugh. “No, Y/N you look amazing.” He said. You smiled up at him before it got awkward.

“I’m really sorry. For what happened and I know you never got an explanation and this isn’t the place for it, but I need to tell you.” You started. “I was scared when you asked me to marry you. You know my last relationship was a mess and screwed me up big time. And I know you’d never hurt me but when you asked me, I panicked. And I’m so sorry, Sebastian. You didn’t deserve that.” You finished.

Sebastian looked down at his feet and you knew you probably should have waited. “I should have told you sooner.” You said quietly before beginning to walk away.

He reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you back to him. “I understand, Y/N. It was unfair of me to treat you like I did after you said no.” Sebastian said. “I still love you.” You whispered before your agent returned. “I’ll see you later.” You told him before leaving him.

After the movie and as you were leaving the premiere, you saw Sebastian standing in front of the car you took. “What are you doing?” You asked with a small laugh. “I, uh, thought we could go to the afterparty together.” He offered. “You want to go to the afterparty with me?” You questioned. “It’ll give us a reason to talk more.” He said.

You nodded your head before getting in the backseat of the car.

“I still love you too.” Sebastian said. You looked up at him with a surprised looked on your face. “Really?” You questioned. “Of course. Feelings like that don’t just go away.” He answered.

You looked at him for a moment and you noticed you already at the venue. “If you asked me to marry you today, I’d say yes.” You whispered before the door opened.

You stepped out and put a smile on your face and quickly found Scarlet and Elizabeth.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” Elizabeth asked. She saw the panicked look on your face when you walked up to them. “Sebastian told me he still loves me and I may have let it slip that if he asked me to marry him today I’d say yes.” You explained.

“Oh. Well, it could have been worse. If you got back together would that be the worst thing?” Scarlet asked. “I mean, no. But why the hell would I say that?” You replied. “You need a drink. Here’s a shot.” Anthony interjected handing you a shot glass.

You shrugged before knocking back the shot of Tequila. “Gimme another one.” You ordered, just wanting to forget how humiliated you felt.

After an hour, you were very tipsy and your self-control was at an all time low.

You knocked back another shot and spotted Sebastian across the way. As you made your way over to him, you got distracted by Chris.

“Chris! Chris, come here!” You called to him. “Y/N, how much have you had to drink?” He asked you. “I lost count after 4 shots.” You slurred. “We should get you home.” He said, wrapping an arm around you.

You shook your head until Sebastian joined the two of you. “She okay?” He asked Chris. “I’m right here.” You said, falling against Chris. “I’m gonna take you home, Y/N.” Sebastian told you. You didn’t protest because you were beginning to feel lightheaded.

Once Sebastian got you home, he practically carried you to your room. You fell onto the bed, still in your dress, and a grip on Sebastian’s hand.

“Seb, can you stay?” You asked. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He said. “Please. You can sleep on the couch if you want.” You begged. “I just don’t wanna be alone.” You added.

Sebastian looked at you before he sighed. “Okay. I’ll sleep on the couch.” He said. You sent him a small smile before you passed out.

Sebastian kissed your forehead lightly before leaving your room and going into the living room.

He hadn’t been in your house since the two of you broke up. He assumed that you would have gotten rid of all the pictures you had together but he looked on the mantle above the fireplace, and saw a picture of the two of you from your vacation to Australia.

He smiled at the memory and also at the fact you still had it up. Sebastian took his jacket off and laid down on the couch, before falling asleep quickly.

—

You woke up, your head pounding and still in your dress from the night before. You wondered what made you get so drunk in the first place, until you remembered how you humiliated yourself in front of Sebastian.

Groaning, you got out of bed and made your way out to your living room. When you entered, you saw Sebastian sleeping heavily on the couch. You paused momentarily before continuing your trek to the kitchen.

You heard Sebastian stir and you froze. Would he remember what you said? Why was he sleeping on your couch? All of your questions were about to be answered when you noticed him sitting up.

“Good morning.” You greeted. Sebastian looked over at you and laughed dryly. “Good morning to you too.” He said. “What happened last night?” You asked.

Sebastian stood up and walked over to the kitchen counter and sat down. “You got really drunk and needed someone to bring you home, so I did and you asked me to stay.” He answered.

You sighed in relief at the fact he didn’t remember you telling him you’d marry him if he asked.

“And you also said that if I proposed today, you’d say yes.” He added. Your eyes widened before you looked down at your feet. “Oh.” You said quietly. “Y/N, did you mean that?” Sebastian asked.

You still avoided his gaze as you took a moment to answer. You heard him get up and make his way towards you before you felt him lifting up your chin to look at him.

“Yes, I meant it. I mean I didn’t say it when I was drunk so,” You answered.

Silence fell between you too and you looked up at him. But soon you grew embarrassed and returned your gaze to the floor.

Sebastian backed away slightly and you feared the worst. He moved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small object. You looked at what he had in his hand and your mouth fell open slightly. In his hand was the ring he proposed to you with.

“I’ve been carrying this around with me since you said no. Hoping that one day we’d get back together or you’d change your mind.” He said.

Your eyes widened and Sebastian dropped onto one knee. “So, if you’ll have me and you say yes this time, will you marry me, Y/N?” He asked.

Sebastian’s heart was beating a mile a minute, afraid you were going to say no again.

Your eyes began to water as you nodded your head. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” You said in a whisper. Sebastian physically sighed in relief as he slid the ring onto your finger. He got up off the floor and you pulled him into a deep, well overdue kiss.

After a few seconds, you pulled apart and had a very impulsive idea. “Let’s not have a huge wedding. Let’s get a couple people we love and go to the courthouse and get married today. I don’t want to wait any longer than we had to.” You said.

Sebastian was okay with that but he knew you’ve had your wedding planned since you were 12. “Are you sure? You’ve always wanted a big wedding.” He questioned. “I’m sure. We can always have a reception for everyone later. Please, Seb.” You pleaded.

He smiled at you before nodding his head. “Okay. Let’s go get married.” He said.

A couple hours later, you had called Elizabeth and Sebastian called Anthony and Chris, and you were walking up the steps of the courthouse to get married.

“I can’t believe you guys are doing this.” Chris commented. “Y/N didn’t want to wait any longer.” Sebastian said. “This is so cute though. Very Meredith and Derek of you.” Elizabeth interjected.

Your grip on Sebastian’s hand tightened as you entered the building.

The five of you approached the teller who recognized you all immediately. “Oh my god, your basically the Avengers.” She commented. “We’re here to get married.” You told her, smiling up at Sebastian. “Holy shit are you pregnant?” She asked.

“How come none of us thought about asking that?” Anthony muttered to Chris. “No, no, I’m not pregnant. We just don’t want to wait to get married.” You answered. She nodded her head and handed you some papers to fill out before she began performing the legal stuff that happens when you get married.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” She said, just for fun. “It’s about damn time.” Sebastian muttered before he kissed you passionately.

Elizabeth was crying and Anthony and Chris were just happy for the two of you.

“I can’t believe I just officiated Y/F/N Y/L/N and Sebastian Stan’s wedding.” The teller said. “Thank you for doing this.” You told her graciously.

You exited the courthouse, feeling overjoyed that you finally married Sebastian. “Now what are you going to do?” Chris asked. “Probably move back in with her.” Sebastian joked.

You didn’t care what you did next, you were just happy that you could call Sebastian your husband.

#imagine #imagines #marvel imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine

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quillsanddaydreams · 3 years ago

Text

teddy bear

fred weasley x reader

—author’s note: I really have no explanation for this except that I saw an old fic of mine and the idea just struck. This is a re-imagined version of 'don't say goodbye' from my main i.e. @with-love-anu Fred had been spending lesser and lesser time with you every day and you couldn't take it anymore.

—warning(s): mentions of food and drinks, break up, angst but it's hurt and comfort, low-key descriptions of anxiety attack. gender neutral!reader (pronouns haven't been used throughout the story)

—wordcount: 2,190

The fire crackled orange and gold, painting the dark walls. You were sitting right beside the mantle looking at the wall ticking. It was 11:35pm. Fred should’ve been home hours ago.

Tilting your head, you ran your thumb through the sharp edge’s of the photo frame. Friendly— happy faces smiled back at you. It was you and Fred from your 6th year. He had an arm around you, kissing your cheek before winking at the camera. Oh you remembered that day. Vividly. The two of you had just started dating after months of pining. Fred had been an absolute sweetheart. One date led to the next and you didn’t realise you two had spent years together. From graduating from hogwarts, to working your way up on your jobs, moving in together… You were madly in love and nothing else seemed to have mattered.

Everything looked great. Looked. Your parents often told you about ichs. A common rash. Ignore it and it will go away. Scratch it, and it will make your life hell. They never told you however, how long it takes. And you had been shutting your eyes to this one far too long. Fred was never there. Never. Both of you had jobs. Demanding jobs. Yet it seemed Fred was the only one without a moment to spare.

Your morning began with you getting up and ready for your day. Freshening up, making breakfast for the two of you— storing Fred’s with a quick warming spell and a note because you knew you’ll be gone by the time he woke up. Never having the heart to rouse him you simply smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead, apprating to the ministry. When you came back, he would still be at the shop, working late into the night. Exhaustion caught you, you were unable to keep yourself from falling asleep after 12.

Heaving a sigh, you pushed your head back staring at the ceiling above. The thing was that you missed him. Terribly. You couldn’t even remember the time he held you, let alone ask about your day— it had been months. There had been a hundred times, sitting alone having dinner or seeing his side of the bed empty. Loneliness caught with you reminisened all the times he would pull you over his lap, pressing kisses all over your face. Telling you about the newest invention at his shop. All confrontations with him about the same had ended the same way. With him promising he would try. He never did.

Glancing at the clock again, you felt your body grow hot with anger. It was nearly midnight. You had left him a note to come home early that day. Promotion at work had flashed like the perfect occasion to catch up. Happiness had been bubbling through you all day. Although as time passed, your excitement dulled. The food turned cold and ice in the firewhiskey bucket had melted. Your eyes pricked with tears as you felt your stomach churn. There was a pop as the door opened to reveal a disheveled Fred. He gave you a small smile before moving straight towards the bedroom.

“Fred,” you called out, clearing your throat and wiping away the tears. Did he really not notice? “Did you get my note?”

“Hmm?” he said, shuffling through his drawer. “Oh! Yes I did, sorry but work came up love, couldn’t make it.”

You clenched your jaw.

“Work?” you asked, agitated. “What work keeps you out until midnight Fred?”

His answering sigh infuriated you further.

“You need to change your work schedule, Fred,” you said, crossing your arms. “George comes back to Angelina before 8. I’m sure you can manage before 9. I don't see you Fred. I don't get to talk to you or spend a moment with you. It's like I'm living alone— I spent more time with you before we moved in!”

Fred squeezed his eyes shut, tired.

“I’ll try, I promise,” he said after a minute. “Let’s eat first, shall we?”

“No, Fred. You promise me that every time,” you hissed. “I want you to tell me you’ll be home tomorrow before 9. Like a normal person.”

“What do you want me to do, huh?” Fred snapped. “I thought you would be more supportive of me and my business.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” you threatened. “I’ve been there for you every step of the way. What I am asking you is for you to take out some time for me. I need you to be there for me too!”

“Well excuse me for wanting to earn enough money for our future. For wishing you didn’t have to work to live a happy life.”

“Fred,” you said, your voice a dangerous whisper. “You know exactly how much I love my job. I’ve always been happy working. What has gotten into you? You were always so supportive of me!”

Something crossed Fred’s eye and he took a step back, shaking himself. He took a deep breath.

“Listen,” Fred said calmly. “It’s late now, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

“When, Fred? When? In the morning, when you are asleep or at night which is the time right now?”

Fred remained silent. It felt like you were bursting. All the frustration, sadness and disappointment poured in.

“It hurts, Fred. It hurts and it feels like I’m alone in this. People ask me how we are doing and I don’t know what to tell them. I have no idea what’s going on with the person I live with. I don’t even know where our relationship is goin—”

“You know what?” Fred said, finally losing his cool, throwing his hands in the air. “If you feel so alone, maybe you wouldn’t find a difference if we even separate.”

You gasped.

“I’m going to give you a moment to take that back,” you hushed. Fred crossed his arms. “Think about it before telling me you meant it.”

“Listen, you know I put my work above anything else,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I’ve always wanted to be rich enough so people like Malfoy wouldn’t dare to insult me or my family. That shop. It’s my life. It’s everything that lets me afford the things I never could.”

“So the shop’s more important to you than having me stay?” you said, your throat heavy. Digging your nails into the palm of your hand you searched Fred’s face. The face you had fallen in love with, the one that didn’t quite meet your eyes now which forebode tears. No you couldn’t cry now. Not when he disregarded your job you had been so passionate about, not when his status in life was more important to him. When Fred didn’t say anything, you let out a dry laugh. Shaking your head you moved towards your wardrobe, your head thumping. You took out a couple of your clothes, money and some documents, packing up a bag. Fred stared at you wide eyed as you went for the door.

“What are you doing?” he demanded as you opened the door moving out.

“Well, since you don’t care if we separate and your shop is the only thing you’re living for; it only seems fair that I leave,” you said, furiously rubbing away the tear that fell down your cheek. “Oh and Weasley? I hope you become the wealthiest wizard in the country.”

The last thing you saw was Fred’s shook form before a familiar house came into view. Knocking on your best friend’s door, you wondered whether you should have taken a hotel. It was very late after all. Before you could turn back and leave, Ruhaan opened up. He looked sleepy but his expression changed on seeing you.

“Hey, are you alright? What’s the—”

“Can I stay here tonight?” you blurted. “I’ll crash on the couch... ”

Ruhaan wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leading you in.

“Of course you can,” he said as your throat felt heavy. “You’re always welcome here, what happened?”

“I… we broke up,” you croaked. Admitting things aloud often made things real. Stating your breakup to Ruhaan made you really assess the situation. Blood rushed to your head as you realised you really just left back someone you had loved for six long years. Still did. Your legs wobbled making you lose your balance but Ruhaan held you steady.

“I can’t believe it… I… love him…” you gulped.

“Let me first get you some tea,” he said, rubbing your sides.

-♡♡♡-

Fred was a mess. He fell on the floor with a thump, realising what happened moments ago. You left. The person he had loved all his life had left him. And it was his fault. All those months he had been trying to get the latest product to work. George had given up on it long ago knowing well how dangerous it was to work on. Yet he stood back, working extra hours determined to get it done. It made him lose sight of what was important, you. His heart constricted as he felt like he couldn’t breath. Hot tears fell down his cheeks as he let out a frustrated shout. He had finally lost everything.

For the next few days, Fred worked as an auto pilot. Numbness had caught up to him. He couldn’t bring himself to eat or sleep. Your thoughts plagued him. It was like he was watching your face fall as you moved out over and over again. The apartment felt devoid of spirit— dark and cold. Fred missed you, your smile as he sleepily joined you in bed, pulling you closer; your notes with little doodles telling him to take care… George vaguely knew about what happened, he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it. Visits to your best friend’s place have always gone the same. Ruhaan told him you weren’t there.

Fred wanted— needed you. He loved you. Always did. And he would be damned if he failed to show you. Again. Washing his face, he apparated to Ruhaan’s door again. Biting the inside of his cheek, he waited as a familiar face came into view sighing on spotting him.

“Fred,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’ve told you…”

“Please,” he said, cutting him off. “Please, I know what I’ve done. Terrible won’t start to describe it. Just give me a chance to talk. I won’t push. I won’t. I am really ashamed of the things I did. At least let me make it right…”

Ruhaan searched his face, mentally debating with himself. Fred was pleading, begging. He would do anything to make this right.

“Alright, don’t screw this up,” Ruhaan said, ushering him in directing him towards your room. “The first door on the right.”

Fred nodded, moving briskly to where he indicated. Heart pounding, he knocked. Your voice came throaty, calling him in. When he saw you, his breath caught up. You looked terrible. Dark circles under red puffy eyes, nestled up in blankets. Noticing him, you sat up straighter.

“I told Ruhaan I didn’t want to see you,” you muttered. Fred moved to sit beside you. You looked away.

“I…” he began, not finding the correct words. “I brought this for you…”

He fished out a small box out of his pocket, handing it to you. It transformed into a teddy bear as the pack touched you, splaying itself over your hand like a rock. You narrowed your eyes at Fred.

“I’ve been working on this in secret for the last six months,” he rasped. “A teddy bear for blue days. The more I worked on it, the stiffer it became. I could not imagine what exactly I was doing wrong. I tried charming it, transforming it, twisting and twerking it around...”

“Fred,” you said, cutting him off. He blinked as streaks of heavy tears fell down his cheek.

“I was so fucking angry and determined to make it work that I couldn’t see anything else than that,” he sobbed. “I’ve said and done things that I couldn’t forgive myself for. I’ve made promises I never followed and I’ve let you go. I… I know that there is no reason for you to even hear me out right now. But I can’t lose you. I can’t… I can’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to have you back but I don’t want to say goodbye to the best thing in my life. Please. You don’t have to excuse me but give me one opportunity to make it up to you.”

You inhaled sharply.

“You’ll come home before 9?” you asked.

“At seven everyday.”

“You’ll spare time for me?”

“Dates every other weekend.”

“You’ll cook everything for the next 3 weeks?” you said as Fred let out a breathy chuckle.

“Only your favourites.”

You looked at his face, wet from crying. Eyes praying for your answer.

“You’ll kiss me right now?” you said as a dull surprise crossed his face. He cradled your face, kissing you softly. You closed your eyes, body relaxing for the first time in days.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice low. You held his hand, squeezing it.

“I know.”

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

#fred #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine #fred x reader #fred x you #fred x y/n #from anu's quill #hp #harry potter #george weasley

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marauderundercover · 3 years ago

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 17: Talking (Alt Prompt: The Talk)

AO3

First

Tim walks into the kitchen, blinking sleepily at his little sister. He glances over at the clock on the microwave, blinking again to make sure that he hadn’t misread the time. Five thirty in the morning, and she was baking cookies. He clears his throat, smiling apologetically as she jumps.

“Sorry Mari. Early morning?” He asks, moving to get coffee and noting that the pot was already half empty.

“More like, late night.” She corrects. Tim frowns. Her summer in Gotham was supposed to be relaxing for her. It was supposed to be a way for her to be a kid again. Instead she was making cookies by herself at five thirty in the morning after not sleeping. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he was determined to figure it out. There was no way he was going to make her deal with whatever this is by herself. She has backup now.

“Did you want to talk about it?” He offers, leaning against the counter, drinking his coffee quickly to try and wake up more.

“Not really. Kinda just wanted to stress bake.” She says quietly. He nods. Sometimes it was hard to talk about things. That’s okay, he can look into it later.

“Well, I’ve gotta go work on some things in the cave. Did you want to come with?” He asks, refilling his coffee. She frowns, looking at the bowl in front of her.

“Can you wait like, five minutes? I just need to get these ready to chill.” She says, gesturing to the bowl. He nods, watching as she zips around the kitchen as if she’d grown up in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why she’d been up baking so early, but he was determined to help her. As much as he avoided sleep, he knew it wasn’t exactly healthy. Probably shouldn’t encourage his little sister to do the same thing.

---

Bruce walks into the theatre room, frowning when he sees Dick and Jason, but no Marinette. That was odd. She hadn’t been in her room either. He decides to check the kitchen next, knowing his daughter enjoyed baking. Walking into the kitchen, he’s surprised to find it empty as well. Glancing at the coffee pot, he notices it’s nearly empty, but still on. Which meant Tim had been up to get coffee recently. Flipping the pot off, he turns and starts towards the Batcave. Perhaps Tim knew where Marinette was. Walking down his usual entrance, he’s unsurprised to see Tim working at the computer. What he hadn’t expected, however, was Marinette curled up in a chair next to Tim, sleeping.

“Tim?” Bruce calls, catching his son’s attention.

“Oh, hey B.” Tim says, not looking away from the screen.

“Is there a reason Marinette is sleeping in a chair instead of her bed?” He asks. He knew she had a nightmare last night, but he had assumed she’d fallen asleep with Jason and Dick in the theatre room. And if she hadn’t, he’d at least expected she’d return to her own room. Not the Batcave. While some of his sons preferred the cave to any of the other rooms in the manor, he’d hoped his daughter was different. That he had at least one child willing to live in the house instead of the cave.

“I’m sure there is. And I’m going to find out.” Tim says, leaving Bruce with more questions than answers.

“Okay. How long have the two of you been down here?” He asks. Tim stops typing, glancing down at his watch before looking back up to the screen.

“Little under two hours.” He replies, jerking his head towards Marinette. “Think that’s also the only sleep she’s got all night, so probably best to leave her for a little longer.” Bruce frowns at this. Sure, he knew that she had a nightmare last night. He knew it was bad enough that she had sobbed into his arms. But had she really avoided sleep after that? Was it really that bad? She didn’t want to talk to him about it last night, but maybe she’d talk later today. He wouldn’t push her, lord knows that any child of his isn’t going to take well to that, but maybe she’d talk to

him now. Hopefully the nightmare would now be far enough from her mind that she could talk.

---

Marinette gasps, sitting up so quickly that she manages to flip the chair she’d fallen asleep in. She hisses in pain as her head bounces off the stone floor. So much for being the holder of the Miraculous of good luck.

“Did you just fall out of your chair?” Tim asks. She glances up at her brother, who had apparently left for another cup of coffee.

“No?” She says, smiling awkwardly from the floor, where her limbs are currently entangled with the chair. Tim shakes his head and snorts, sipping from his mug.

“Whatever you say Mari.” He says, walking over and sitting back in his chair, going back to his work on the computer.

“What time is it?” She asks, carefully untangling herself and getting off the ground.

“Mmm, around nine.” He says, not looking away from the screen.

“In the morning?” She asks, knowing it was completely possible for Tim to have worked nonstop in the cave.

“Yes.” He says, shaking his head. “B wants to talk to you, by the way.” He adds.

“Oh. Okay. Am I in trouble?” She asks, suddenly self conscious. It was the first time anyone in her family had had to deal with one of her nightmares. Usually, Tikki was the one to wake her up and calm her down before she attracted an akuma.

“Of course not.” He reassures her. “He’s probably in his study.”

“Oh, good, okay. Well, I’m gonna go talk to him. Please take a break, Tim. I know you haven’t eaten anything today. You can’t run on coffee and spite, trust me, I’ve tried.” Marinette says, grinning at her brother before using the tunnel that connected straight to the study. She still hadn’t figured out the many rooms of the manor, but the maze-like setup of the Batcave was something that she’d figured out easily. Taking a breath, she knocks on her side of the Grandfather clock, waiting for a response.

“Come in.” Her dad says. She walks in, grinning at the exasperated look on his face.

“Hi dad!” She says cheekily, plopping down onto one of the couches.

“Is there a reason you didn’t use the actual door?” He asks. She shrugs.

“Why get lost in the manor when I can just use the secret tunnels from the cave?” She asks. He sighs.

“I still don’t understand that, but alright. How are you feeling this morning?” He asks, his face turning serious. She smiles, but it’s forced now. She didn’t want to talk about this. She really didn’t want to talk about this with her dad, who would surely never give her permission to date Adrien if he knew. Not that she needed permission, but it would make it easier not having her dad against her.

“I’m fine!” She says, keeping her plastered on smile.

“I talked to Tim this morning.” He says, instead of calling her out. Well crap.

“Oh really?” She asks, silently cursing Tim. Or, wanting to anyway. But she wouldn’t because she knew he meant well.

“He said that you hadn’t slept last night. I know you didn’t want to talk to me about your nightmare last night, but maybe now-”

“No. No, I’m fine. It’s fine.” She rambles, cutting him off. He frowns.

“Marinette, I’m not going to be angry with you if that’s what you’re worried about. You had a nightmare, and it has clearly left you shaken.” He says. She huffs, running her fingers through her hair exasperatedly.

“I just- I can’t tell you. If I tell you, you’re going to be mad at someone and I don’t want you to be mad at them.” She explains, wincing as his face darkens.

“Did someone hurt you?” He asks, his voice the coldest she’s ever heard.

“Dad-”

“Did someone hurt you?” He asks again, cutting her off as he stands up.

“Not on purpose.” She insists, wringing her hands together.

“It doesn’t matter if it was on purpose, Marinette! This person hurt you badly enough that you had a nightmare about it. Bad enough that you were sobbing, that you couldn’t go back to sleep. I don’t care if it was on purpose or not, Marinette, that person does not deserve to be anywhere near you.” Her dad says, his face and voice hard as stone.

“But Dad, it really wasn’t his fault-”

“His?”

“Yes, Dad, he was akumatized.” She says, watching as he unclenches his fist and collapses back into his chair. “So it wasn’t his fault.” She adds, frowning as he shakes his head.

“Why didn’t-” He pauses, seemingly recollecting himself. “Why isn’t there a story on it?” He asks. She frowns.

“Story on what?” She asks.

“A story on Adrien being akumatized? Why isn’t there any record of it?” He asks. She jerks back like she was slapped. How did he- world’s greatest detective. Of course.

“He doesn’t know.” She says softly.

“How?”

“One of the Miraculous users is Bunnix. She holds the Miraculous of time, and is able to time travel. It was about a year ago, she came and grabbed me and took me to the future.” She explains, avoiding looking at him. She didn’t want to talk about this. It was the talk that she’d been avoiding, no matter how many times Tikki assured her she could talk to her dad about it. Or her brothers. But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. But now she had to.

“In the future, Adrien and I had been a couple. He found out my identity as Ladybug, and I’m not exactly sure how it came to it, but for some reason, Hawkmoth targeted us. He was able to akumatize Adrien while he was Chat Noir. He….he became Chat Blanc. The complete opposite of Chat Noir.” She says, watching her hands as they shake in her lap. He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “He still had the power of destruction but with the help of the akuma...it was awful. His power became unlimited. He blew up the moon.”

“The moon?” He asks.

“Yes.” She says. “He also flooded Paris, destroyed the Eiffel tower, and killed both Hawkmoth and future me. That was why Bunnix needed me. I had to fix it. But she wasn’t able to stay with me, so I had to fight him alone. And I didn’t know that he was Adrien then, but he was still my partner and he kept calling me Marinette and he told me that it was our fault. That our love did it to the world. And it hurt, Dad. It hurt that my best friend destroyed the world because of me. Because of us.” She says, voice breaking as tears fall.

“Marinette, honey, look at me.” He says softly. She looks up at him, surprised to see that he had moved to kneel in front of her. “That was not your fault. And you should not have had to go through that by yourself. That was wrong of Bunnix. It was not your fault.” He reassures her. She lets out a sigh of relief, throwing her arms around him and crying into his chest just like she did last night.

“Father, have you seen- what did you do to Marinette?” Damian asks, barging into the room. Marinette snorts, her cries quickly becoming laughter as she catches a glimpse of her little brother’s face. His usual scowl had become full of anger before flickers of confusion flit across as she laughs.

“I’m sorry, petit oiseau. I’m okay now. I just had a nightmare last night and Dad asked about it.” She explains, knowing that Damian hated being out of the loop.

“Tt. Very well. I was trying to find you to see if you would like to accompany me to the park with Titus. Alfred said that I cannot go alone, and you are the least annoying possible companion.” He says. Marinette smiles. Ever since she’d been hit by the de-aging akuma, Damian had wanted to spend time with her and Titus together. She assumed it was the best way he knew to bond with her without sparring (which her Dad had banned for the moment unless he or Dick were able to supervise, honestly you break one little display case).

“I’d love to. Could we come back to this later?” She asks, glancing at her Dad who had moved to lean against his desk. He sighs, but nods.

“Yes. Keep your phones on, both of you.” He instructs. She nods, grinning before pulling her brother after her. They couldn’t keep Titus waiting, after all.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @stainedglassm @laurcad123 @vixen-uchiha @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

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devilyn · 4 years ago

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belated regrets | kuroo tetsurou

— alexa, play: remember me by umi

Cuz I'm getting older Know that I've changed But I can't go back now Nothing's the same And I won't forget how You called my name When I was afraid And now I'm afraid

— synopsis: after taking advantage of your friendship, what will kuroo do to win it back? — genre: angst, friends to lovers if you squint — word count: 3.1k

This wasn't like you. You had stopped crying over Kuroo months ago. You stopped thinking about whether or not he had eaten yet, if he had gotten home safe, if he would text you goodnight, and yet here you were. You were crying again, after claiming you moved on and healed, and after telling all your friends that you would cut him out of your life.

You wish you blocked his number. It felt mean to do it back then, but you really wish you did, because now you definitely wouldn't be able to.

"I think we should take some time apart," were the words you whispered to him over the phone one night a few months back when he was telling you about some girl he had gotten close to in his chemistry lecture.

There was a painful silence that lasted over 15 long seconds. You'd never forget. You counted, after all.

"Why?" he asked quietly. "You're my best friend. What did I do wrong?"

Your 'friendship' had always been strange, after all. Everyone told you that, and even Kenma firmly believed that the two of you would end up dating eventually. But every time, Kuroo would laugh and ruffle your hair while proclaiming he would never date you.

And every time, you'd force a smile and agree with him.

"This friendship...just isn't what it used to be," you answered. It was true. Ever since the two of you got to college, things had changed. He met different people through his classes and bustling parties, and thus different girls that he'd ask you about. You manufactured his sweet texts to them, all while wishing he'd send them to you and feel just as nervous calling you late at night. You'd help guide him through the process of asking her out, then let him come over and be sad when he was rejected.

Every aspect of your friendship became about him, him, and him. His academics were doing well--he was a surprisingly smart man after all--but they took a toll on him mentally, as they do to all college students. The same happened to you as well, but never once did Kuroo ask about how you were doing, how you were feeling, how you were coping with the sudden changes to your life.

You kept in contact with Kenma, who you'd text once in a while to tell him about how much you hated his previous captain. And Kenma would listen to you cry over the phone about his foolish childhood friend that knew nothing about your growing feelings for him. He was the only person who kept you grounded, and understood that your feelings for Kuroo couldn't be so easily tossed aside as the rest of your friends claimed. He also was the one who encouraged you to end your friendship with Kuroo gently, knowing that he would have to deal with the aftermath of Kuroo's confusion.

"Can I fix it somehow?" Kuroo asked in a panic, and you laughed bitterly. You had asked him many times to fix things--his treatment of you as if he were your therapist being the main one. He’d apologize, yet things would always end up returning to how they were before, with you being at the bottom on his list of priorities.

"Not anymore," your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat to pretend like you weren't crying. "I think you'll be fine without me."

“Y/N--”

“Don’t call me from now on, please. Don’t come over, because I won’t answer the door,” you paused. “...you’re still going to be my friend. I just need space.”

A lie. You knew it, and Kenma did too when you rehearsed your lines to him. He told you such, but you couldn’t bear to tell Kuroo the truth.

And even as you hung up, deep down, you wished he would disobey your wishes. You wanted him to text you and come to his senses, realizing he was wrong. You wanted to relive late night calls where you would laugh and talk about absolutely nothing just because you couldn’t fall asleep. You wanted to go back to him showing up at your front door with a bucket of fried chicken to reward you for studying hard for your midterm exams. You wanted to lay next to him on a grassy field again, where he was gazing up at the stars and you were mesmerized by how beautiful your best friend was, inside and out.

But Kuroo never called. You no longer sent him good morning texts, asking how his day was, and he stopped asking for your advice. It was like the two of you were less than friends. You’d only speak when you sent him an occasional meme that reminded you of him, or a song you knew he would enjoy. He’d respond earnestly, as if your friendship of over four years wasn’t shattered during that one call months ago.

Kenma called you an idiot for not cutting him off entirely, and you would have to agree with him. You were an idiot who was head over heels for a man who would never share your feelings.

It took months for you to get over it, but the distance you put between the two of you definitely helped. So why was it, all of a sudden, after you were finally healing and moving on, that Kuroo decided to call you out of nowhere?

You stared at your buzzing phone, the image of a stupid face Kuroo made flashing on your screen.

Should you pick up? Should you pretend like you didn’t see his call? During your time contemplating, his photo faded away and your phone stopped vibrating angrily against your coffee table.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat through your chest when you saw the ‘one missed call’ notification flicker mockingly at you. You stared at your phone, breath hitching in your throat when suddenly, you received a new text from none other than Kuroo Tetsurou himself.

“Fuck,” you cursed, leaning your head back against the couch and groaning loudly. Should you call Kenma? You could already feel a headache incoming.

Why? Why did Kuroo always do this to you? He’s always had terrible timing, and apparently that never changed.

You plucked your phone from the table, braving it all and finally reading what he had to say to you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you fucking serious,” you grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut to chase away the anger building up inside of you. “Now? Now of all times? Does he even know what he’s sorry for?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Kuroo to apologize to you just because he knew you were upset. Still, you always forgave him solely because he was your best friend. But now, you knew better.

Fully ready to toss your phone aside, your eyes caught a new text from your ex-best friend.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Liar.

“I’m sorry for that one time I told you I’d help you study for your chemistry exam but ended up forgetting and missing all your texts and calls.”

You remembered that day. You had confided in him about your bad grade, and when he told you he could help you study, you were over the moon at the thought of being able to raise your nearly failing chemistry grade (and at the thought of spending more time with him). You called him multiple times when he didn’t show up, but gave up when he didn’t pick up the fifth time. You stayed up all night studying on your own, but still ended up failing that exam. You dropped the class, and ended up taking it next semester to get a much better grade without Kuroo’s help.

“I’m sorry for when you couldn’t tell me why you cried the entire day but still let me over so I could complain about Kira turning me down.”

That day, you were extremely overwhelmed. Your roommate was out somewhere, so you were left on your own to cry over the endless amount of assignments you had to deal with, on top of everything else. Kuroo had called that day, clearly in distress, and though you were in tears, you wiped them away and put on a weak smile when he showed up at your front door with a pained expression.

You wanted to be there for him. He was your best friend, after all.

“I’m sorry for that time that I left in the middle of our movie night because Ayane called me and wanted to go out to eat together.”

Your heart stung at the memory. The sight of his back getting up from your couch while completely ignoring the hurt in your eyes was still engraved into your memory, even if you spent months trying to forget it. You had called his name, but he was too busy eagerly chattering on the phone to even hear you. When he turned around, it was to bid you goodbye before abruptly leaving you with a half-eaten bag of popcorn and an animated movie still running that you no longer felt like finishing.

“I’m sorry for making you think you didn’t mean anything to me.”

Did you make an impact on his life? Deep down, you had hoped you did, so he’d always remember you.

“I’m sorry for taking advantage of your friendship.”

That, he definitely did.

“I’m sorry for being the worst friend ever. I miss you so much, Y/N.”

Why were you crying again? Your hands came up to wipe at your cheeks before hurriedly video calling Kenma’s phone.

When he picked up, the first thing he did was sigh at the sight of your disheveled appearance. If you weren’t completely in tears, you may have laughed at his attitude towards the situation, but all you could do was let out a weak whimper.

“I think he’s drunk,” he spoke without you needing to say anything. The thought of Kuroo only texting you because he was inebriated hurt you even more.

“He’s such an asshole,” you managed to croak out between your cries. Kenma only nodded, eyes clearly focused on the screen of his PC. Briefly, they turned to look at you again and his expression softened.

“You should’ve blocked him,” he mumbled, and a weak laugh left your lips. “Are you going to reply?”

You were quiet for a bit, before shaking your head.

And with that, Kenma hummed softly. He stayed on the phone with you until you finished crying over his childhood friend, and only hung up when you finally promised him you’d call him again the next day.

Tomorrow came quicker than you thought it would, and you managed to ignore Kuroo’s messages without giving into the temptation to text him back. Your life went back to normal, relatively, aside from one thing.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you for not understanding me when you gave me advice. I was childish, and only wanted to hear what I wanted to hear.”

Now, Kuroo was texting you everyday with something he was supposedly sorry for. And now, you were calling Kenma everyday to beg him to tell Kuroo to stop, to just leave you alone so you could move on. And every day, Kenma would tell you that you both knew how stubborn Kuroo could be when he put his mind to something.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you whenever you needed me even though you were always the first one to worry about me and how I was doing.”

At this point, it had been a few days since the initial text, and you wanted nothing more than to find him and yell at him to leave you alone. You were fine with brief interactions, pretending like your feelings for him never existed and he never regarded you as someone he could trust with his deepest feelings. You were fine with that.

“I’m sorry for being stupid and being able to understand everyone else’s feelings except for my best friend’s.”

But now he was pushing your boundaries. He was asking for more than what you could give him without giving him your entire heart again. You knew, and Kenma probably knew too, that if Kuroo kept doing this, you’d end up forgiving him. You’d give up on all the work it took over the past few months to get over him and go back to being his best friend if he asked you to. All that courage you put in to cut him off in the first place would disappear, and you’d be back to square one.

“I’m sorry for not realizing you liked me, and that I like you too.”

That was the last straw.

“You’re a prick.”

His response was almost immediate.

“Can I call you?”

Before you even had the chance to reply, your phone was buzzing in your hand and you nearly dropped it in your surprise. Without thinking, you picked up. And you cursed yourself for doing that.

“Y/N,” his familiar voice calling your name in that teary tone nearly made you cry again. Instead, you bit down on your lower lip to prevent the sadness crawling up your throat. You could hear the noises of cars passing by on the other line. He must’ve been outside

“Y/N, I missed you so much,” Kuroo’s voice was weak, and cracked a bit as he spoke, as if he too was holding back tears. “Thank you for picking up the phone.”

There was silence between the two of you for a bit before you shakily breathed in.

“Please stop texting me,” you finally managed to mumble. “Please stop thinking that you actually have feelings for me just because I was a comfortable person to fall back to when you didn’t have anyone else to go on dates with at the time.”

“That’s not the case--”

“If that’s not the case, then what is, Kuroo?” you interrupted, voice trembling. “I’ve had these feelings for you for so long, and now all of a sudden I’m gone and you like me too? Fuck off, I can’t believe you of all people would think so lightly of my feelings.”

“Listen,” his voice was pleading. “It’s not like that. Can I talk to you in person?”

“If I see you, I’m just going to cry again,” you laughed bitterly. You could hear shuffling on the other line.

“Then I’ll hold you until you stop crying,” he retorted firmly, and your heart jumped in your chest. How long had you waited to hear him speak like that about you? Like he just might share the same adoration for you that you did for him?

“You won’t even be able to find me,” you mumbled more to yourself than to him. It wasn’t like you were at your apartment, after all. You needed to get away.

“If you really think that,” you jumped at the sound of his voice closer than you thought. Looking up from your feet, your traitorous heart rate raced at the sight of those familiar almond eyes and unfixable bedhead. “Then I must’ve been a really bad friend, huh?”

You spent an excessive amount of time just staring up at him from your spot on the swings, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He had bags under his eyes, and his bedhead was a little messier than it had previously been. Despite all that, the man in front of you was undoubtedly the best friend you’d caught feelings for.

“...how’d you find me?” you finally asked as he took a seat on the swing next to your own.

“I wanna say that I’m just a genius, but honestly, you never removed me from seeing your location.”

Your eyes adjusted to the brightness of his screen. When you spotted the familiar profile photo of your smiling face on the map, all you could do was sigh. Anxiously, you ran your sweaty palms along your pants to wipe them off.

“I’ve said it a dozen times at this point,” Kuroo tucked his phone back into his pants, “But I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I get it,” you mumbled, exhausted of his apologies at this point.

“I don’t know what more I can say besides I’m sorry,” he admitted weakly. You couldn’t find the courage to lift your head to look at his probably desperate expression. “I’ll be honest. I wanted to respect your wishes at first. If you wanted distance, I’d give it to you. But the more time passed, the more I missed you.”

You fiddled with your fingers and the edge of your shirt, trying to find any distraction so you didn’t have to listen to his explanation.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, “I thought I was an idiot, for treating you the way I did. I took advantage of how comfortable I was around you, and when you finally left me, I realized how lucky I was to have someone I could be so myself with.”

He turned to look at you, and you finally lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. Your heart ached. He looked so tired.

“Have you been eating?” You asked quietly.

“See?” He smiled bitterly. “You care so much about me, and all I do is take that kindness and give nothing back.”

You felt tears prick at your eyes again as he took your hand and placed it onto his cheek, the familiar warmth of his hand reminding you that you truly would never be able to get over him.

“I hate you,” you lied through the tears slipping down your cheeks, “so much for everything you’ve done. For making me fall for you.”

“I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you if you’ll let me,” his other hand reached up to brush your tears away. “As your friend, and as someone who finally realized his feelings for you too late. And if I’m lucky, I hope you’ll let me back into your life.”

“It won’t be the same,” you admitted honestly. Truthfully, your friendship would never be the same after all the hurt you endured because of him. Things that may have seemed so small to other people hurt you deeply, solely because you trusted him so much.

“I trusted you to be there and to understand me,” you told him, “and you ignored all that. You can’t expect that to be fixed so quickly.”

“I know,” he brushed your hair behind your ear. “So I’ll give my all to build a new relationship with you. One where I’ll be better, and won’t hurt you ever again.”

The two of you were silent as you cried. Through your tears, you could see his wet eyes. The sight brought a weak laugh to your lips.

“Kenma said you’re way too stubborn when you put your mind to something,” you smiled sadly. “This is your last chance, Kuroo. Don’t ruin it.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #hq #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou angst #kuroo tetsurou imagines #kuroo tetsurou scenarios #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu!!

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pascalpanic · 3 years ago

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Caffeine Rush: Chapter Eight / Ristretto

W/C: 5.1k (holy shit)

Warnings: language, arguments and tears, lots of feelings, Javier learns how to talk his feelings out, SMUT 18+, dirty talk, open discussion of sexual themes, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected PIV sex, f e e l i n g a

A/N: I went off with this one. hope y’all like it too ;)

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Ristretto: espresso made with about half the amount of water but the same amount of coffee as a regular espresso. ristretto in Italian means "restricted," or that the amount of water used to brew the espresso is restricted.

Javier’s on the couch, lying down with his back to the living room. You’re not sure if he’s awake or not; you can’t really see his face. It doesn’t matter. You’re a little hurt by the fact that he left you in your sleep to rest alone on the couch again. You thought you heard the shower running late last night, while you tossed in your sleep, and it seems that it wasn’t just a dream. Javier’s thick hair is still damp, leaving a wet spot on the pillow beneath his head.

You move about the kitchen, getting something to eat, and he doesn’t stir. He must be asleep, you conclude. Wrapped in a robe and leaning against the counter, you consider what you’ll say to him when he wakes. When you’re not even sure what you’re feeling, it’s hard to decide on the proper thing to say.

Maybe he planned on coming back to your bed before you woke. Maybe you moved too much in your sleep. Whatever the reason is, you feel slighted and offended. The whole time he’s been here, you’ve worried he doesn’t like you as much as you like him. Hell, you’ve said you love him and he didn’t say it back.

The insecurity begins to wrap itself around you like the warm material you wear. It’s stifling. What you want most is to walk over to the couch and shake him awake, to chew him out and demand to know his reasoning. But you know it’s stupid. There’s surely a valid reason, and this isn’t even that big of a deal anyway. The conflict of anger towards him and towards yourself makes you give a little grunt of frustration before you stalk off and back to bed. Maybe he’ll come back.

Sleep isn’t coming back, no matter how hard you try. Tossing and turning, you find yourself laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, your sheets strewn around your body from your fitful attempt to sleep again. Maybe it’s been ten minutes; maybe it’s been an hour. Your body is far too worked up to sleep, even as your brain commands it to relax, as you remind yourself that you’re being irrational.

Footsteps come from the living room. Javier’s awake. For now, you try to fake being asleep, pulling the blankets around yourself and rolling onto your side, facing away from the door. The footsteps make their way to the bathroom then into your bedroom, walking over that creaky spot in the floor that makes the boards groan.

You think you can hear him getting dressed; the drawer of your dresser opens, the one with a squeaky wheel, the one you cleared for Javier to use while he stays here. There’s a rustling of clothes. He’s changing into something other than his pajamas. There’s a little light in the room, the early hours of a December morning filtering their dull glow through your curtain.

He must still think you’re asleep or he’d be talking to you, you hope. The movement stops for a moment before footsteps fall on the floor, making their way closer to your bed. He stops and looks down at you, watches your presumed sleeping form before he kisses your forehead softly. His lips are gentle against your skin. The tickle of his mustache makes you want to chuckle, to sit up and kiss him properly. But as quickly as he bends down, he’s just as quickly gone from your room, shutting the door behind him.

You sit up and groan in annoyance. You can hear the front door open and close, and with that, Javier is gone.

That irrational part of your brain is worried he’s leaving permanently. Why else would he slip out while you’re still asleep? He’s yet to go anywhere, really, without you showing him the way around here. Then your rational brain takes over: he left all of his belongings besides the clothes on his back and his wallet when he left the apartment. He’s surely not going to leave everything behind.

You’d planned to spend the day doing something with him. The two of you hadn’t exactly decided on what, but it was implied that since you aren’t working today, you’d spend the time with him. It’s still somewhat early, you roll over and groan as the alarm clock reads it to be 8:00 AM. There’s still time for him to come back; maybe he’s just getting the both of you coffee.

It’s pure boredom, like watching paint dry. You want him to come back. You want to ask him why he didn’t stay in your bed last night, why he left this morning. Why he’s been gone increasingly long. The clock in your kitchen ticks, ringing into the living room with its annoying precision. Each little click of the second hand makes you want to smash that damn thing.

The hours pass and pass until it’s late afternoon. You’ve done nothing all day, waiting for Javier to return. You debate several times whether or not you should start a task, but then conclude he’ll probably be back soon. So you wait, watching the daytime television, reading a book, washing dishes. It’s all menial tasks, and eventually it’s 4:00 PM when he returns.

When he opens the door, his eyes find yours and his face falls. “Hi.”

“Where the hell were you?” You ask, standing and walking to him, arms folded beneath your breasts. “I have been waiting around all day for you. You’ve been gone for how long and didn’t even call or tell me you were leaving.”

“I didn’t leave a note?” He asks, face showing his confusion. “I thought I left a note.”

“No, you didn’t, Javier,” you tell him sharply, voice snappy and quick. “Why were you gone all day?”

“I could’ve sworn I left a note,” he mutters, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Javi,” you snap. “Just… where were you?” He doesn’t look at you, but then he does and his eyes show the fear and terror of an ashamed child. He mutters something you can’t hear.

“So the man who’s never held back a single thought is silent?”

“Avoiding you!” He finally bursts, tearing off his jacket and walking into the kitchen. His back is to you, too flustered to even look at you. “You are driving me fucking crazy and you don’t even know it.”

The words break your heart. You freeze in place and feel heat pricking in your eyes. It’s your worst fear. “I am?”

Javier turns at the weak sound of your voice, the panic setting in his chest. “No, no, not like that.” He rushes over to you, putting a hand on each of your forearms. “No, hey, look at me, baby. That is not what I meant. Not…”

“Then what?” You ask, face hot and body nearly trembling. You’ve never heard Javier mad before and you hate it, hate the way his voice sounds when it’s laced with anger and hate it even more when you can feel guilt in his tone. “What other way is there?”

He’s quiet for a moment as he collects his thoughts, and you’re just about to twist out of his arms and slap his face before he speaks. “Your… body. You.”

“What?” You ask again, desperately confused.

“God, you don’t even get it,” he laughs and stands up straight again, running his hands through his hair. “Do you not see how fucking hot you are? Do you not feel the way I’m literally aching for you?” He walks towards the couch and you follow. You’re about to ask the same question again before he turns to you and bites his lip. “I cannot get my fucking mind off how hot you are and it’s making me go fucking insane, baby.” He takes one of your hands, kissing your knuckles. Anything more intimate would make him burst.

The words make your body flush with a different heat, one building in your core first. “And how is that?”

“Do you know why I’ve been sleeping on the couch?” He asks, sitting down on the couch and you follow him. You shake your head. “Because of how bad I want to fuck you. I knew if I got in that bed with you I’d get turned on against my own will, and… I’m a fucking coward. I should’ve asked what you want, what-”

You cut him off. “Ask me now, Javi. Do it.”

He breathes deeply then looks at you. “I don’t even know how to ask it.”

“Try it.”

Another deep breath. “Do you want to…. are you ready to…” he winces at himself. Javier is one of the most widely known playboys in Bogotá and yet he can’t bring himself to ask you this. He can’t pull out his seductive voice because it’s you and he doesn’t want to fuck this up. “What do you feel for me? Are you… attracted to me… sexually?”

Looking at him in his eyes, staring into the beautiful brown, you force your thoughts to converge into something you can verbalize into words. This isn’t what you wanted from the day, but you suppose this talk had to come. “Well, I… I love you, Javi. You know that, right?” You ask, cupping his face.

He takes your palm and kisses it, nodding. “But… I don’t know if you really know who I am if you think that I don’t want you. I thought I’ve made it abundantly clear. I’m not some innocent little virginal thing, Javi. I’ve been thinking the same thing about you. That whole thing has got to be in your head, because I am extremely attracted to you. You’re so fucking hot, truly. I haven’t initiated anything because I’ve been waiting for you to. I thought you would. Hell, I would’ve slept with you on the first date if I didn’t have work in the morning,” you chuckle, though it’s hard to be humorous now, with the weight of a sob stuck in your throat. “You should’ve just asked me.”

Javier nods as he listens to your words, processing and internalizing the meaning behind them. He should’ve, and he’s about to say it but you speak. “Now… please. Tell me what you feel for me. Don’t hold it back.”

He gulps and looks at your hand, still wrapped in both of his, collecting his own scattered thoughts. “Well… you know I haven’t had a committed relationship in what, ten years? And I left that woman at the altar.” You’ve heard this story. He told you in full detail, everything that happened with Lorraine. “Then I went to Colombia. I’ve… God, I’ve lost track of how many women I fucked. Just whoever’s there, you know? But I never got to have a relationship with any of them, because I… well, I was scared. I didn’t wanna fuck up again. And Colombia’s not the place to have a love life anyway, not when you’re a government gringo trying to take down the guy a lot of the people actually fucking liked at first.”

“Javi,” you remind him. “Please… about me.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles awkwardly. “I guess… I wanted to fuck you at first, but I forced myself to think that I didn’t want to, so I didn’t ruin it and feel like I did with all the girls back there. Maybe... it’s been a long time since I was quizzed on it, but wasn’t the psych term for it called projection? When you imagine someone else having your feelings so you can deny that they’re your own?”

You nod, leaning against him and setting your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll stop the spiel. I’m being a pretentious asshole with it. I think you’re really attractive and I’ve been getting sexually frustrated because I thought you didn’t want to fuck me. But… I guess you do.”

This lets a real laugh resonate from your chest. “I do,” you chuckle, nuzzling in closer. “So… why didn’t you stay in my bed last night?”

He groans. “Fuck. You were just so close. I could feel your body and I felt disgusting for thinking the things I did about you. God, you had my arm squished between your tits, and I could feel you through your panties and pajama shorts… ”

“Is that why I heard the shower?”

“I’m 40 goddamn years old, and you’re so fucking hot you made me get turned on just by cuddling up to me,” he chuckles and kisses your head. “Like a teenager. I tried a cold shower to get rid of it but I couldn’t. So I took care of things myself and went to the couch to sleep because I felt that I didn’t deserve to sleep next to you.”

His words melt your heart. “Big sexy manwhore was too afraid to seduce me?” you tease.

“It was two in the morning. And, like I said, projection,” he chuckles.

“We’re dating, right? Together. You’re allowed to think about me like that, Javi,” you remind him, turning his chin to look at you. “In fact, I want you to.”

You’ve finally broken his will. The words do something to him, the way you said it… I want you to. For the first time with you knowing, his mind wanders and his eyes trace from your face to the soft skin of your neck, to your collarbones and the swell of your breasts. “I can do that,” he murmurs, feeling a chill rush through his body.

God, you could moan at the sound of his voice alone. “You’ve been holding back this long,” you mutter back, hands finding his shoulders as you pull yourself to straddle him. “Let go, Javi. Please.”

He’s so fucking close to doing it. His willpower is hanging by a thread, but he wants to be certain. “You’re sure?”

“Please,” you ask, the desperation in your voice emphasized by the look in your eyes, the way your hips involuntarily rock against his. You’ve never had a man look at you with the hunger and the ferocity in Javier’s eyes. You’ve never driven a man to jerk off in the shower at the thought of you, and it gives you a feeling of power and confidence to know he wants you like this.

Within a split second, the power is no longer yours. Javier takes your lips against his, kissing you with a passion and a fire burning in his chest. It’s harsh and sloppy but perfect, and you immediately submit to his wishes, grinding down onto his lap and moaning into his lips.

You’re too damn perfect. Your lips against Javier’s make him moan helplessly, the way you tug on his bottom lip with a teasing nibble and moan again as his tongue pushes into your mouth. You break away to look at him, to admire how far gone he is just from getting to grind on you, like a teenager again. “Can I show you how much I want you, Javi?” You ask, letting your voice drop lower and your tongue dart out to clean your messy lips.

He groans, unable to form words. He nods frantically, and you smile a little. Giving him one last sloppy kiss, you stand from his lap and get on your knees in front of him. “Is this okay, baby?” you ask, your fingers already undoing his belt buckle and sliding it out.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, and you can already see how hard he is through the jeans he wears. He helps you, unbuckling and unzipping the pants before lifting his hips to work them down to his knees, where he knows you can take them from there.

Daring to tug down the waistband of his boxers, you encircle his dick with your fingers and pull it out. You shudder at the sight, biting your lip and shifting your hips against the floor. He’s above average length, but the thickness makes you squirm in anticipation. “Javi,” you breathe, wetting your lips and gulping. You look up at him with big eyes. “You’re gonna make my jaw hurt,” you flirt, and the enthusiasm on your face makes him twitch in your hands.

It’s been a while since you’ve done this, but your excitement more than makes up for it. You reach up and undo the buttons of his shirt, while he lifts his hips again and wriggles his boxers off of his waist and thighs. Pushing the fabric aside, you’re exposed to a bit of pudge and his strong torso. God, is it awful that your first thought is to lick it? Who fucking cares, you think before you dive in, kissing his abdomen and tracing your tongue across the skin above his navel.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, baby,” he grunts and his head falls back against the couch, eyes slipping shut.

The taste of his skin is everything you want and need, the slight saltiness from sweat making your own core ache harder. Your hands grip his sides as you lavish his stomach and abs with kisses and licks, desperate and unable to get enough. You nip at his soft stomach and he hisses out a sharp exhale. He likes that; noted.

“God, I fucking love you, Javi,” you groan and grab his thighs, spreading them further so you can squeeze closer between them.

“Fuck, you too,” he groans and bites his lip as you press kisses to the base of his shaft, then smother the base with kisses and licks. It feels good, but nowhere as good it would be if you- “oh, dulzura,” he grunts as you finally give attention to the tip, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin before swirling your tongue around it.

He lets himself lean back and enjoy it. He’s received a lot of head in his day, from a lot of women, but what makes this the best he’s ever fucking had is the adoration in your eyes, the look of mischief as you trace his frenulum with your tongue just to see him squirm. You’re enjoying it just as much and that’s half of it.

His fingers dig into your hair, his back arching when you do something different. The next time you pull away, he keeps your head back, off of him. “Your bed. Wanna fuck you, pretty girl, wanna make love to you.” Your face is desperate, yearning for him endlessly. “Make love to me later. Fuck me first.”

The words go to Javier’s already aching dick. He stands quickly, pulling you up with him and lifting your shirt, tossing it aside and letting his hands finally grab your breasts through your bra.

“Thought you said bed.”

“Give me a second. Take your pants off while I do this.”

“Do what- Javi!” Javier unclasps your bra, which buckles in the front, and shoves it off, desperate to see your tits. “Mm, fuck,” he murmurs, admiring the things that have been taunting him since he very first saw you. Javier’s fingers tug at your nipples, pulling them to their hardened state, before pressing your tits together and burying his face in them.

He returns the favor of you admiring his body, licking and nipping and kissing at the soft skin, kneading them with expert hands. You’re too in the moment, enraptured by the way he works your breasts, but you come back to consciousness for a moment and wriggle off your pants and panties like he asked.

His tongue is masterful, swirling and licking your sensitive nipples in a way that makes you ache to wonder what that same motion would feel like between your legs. The feeling is too good, Javier adoring your body and practically worshipping it. He breaks away with a face slick from his own spit on your breasts and smirks. “Now bed. Wanna see if you taste just as good somewhere else.”

“Fuck, Javi,” you groan and pull him into a heated kiss, frenzied and passionate. You break away but keep him close and walk him to your bedroom, flopping on your back on the bed and waiting for him to follow.

He does, getting on the bed’s edge and lying flat on his stomach, spreading your thighs and nestling between them. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper as you realize he’s going to return the favor.

His lips ghost along the soft skin of your inner thigh, sucking bruises into the flesh that make you squirm and moan. His hair is thick but so beautifully soft beneath your fingers, and you bury your hands in it as he gets closer to where you want him. “Please, Javi,” you murmur.

“Anything for you, abejita,” he chuckles and licks a hot stripe from your entrance to your clit, latching on the sensitive bud and swirling his tongue over it. “So wet,” he muses, your folds muffling the sounds. It translates to a vibration between your legs that makes you shiver again.

He takes his time with you, letting his mouth explore every little millimeter of the sensitive skin there. He laps through your folds, your own wetness and his spit making it painfully easy for it to glide through. Finally, when he brings his fingers into it, you make a groan of relief. His fingers trace your entrance, slowly, around the rim. Teasing. “Javi, if you made my jaw sore, you better get me ready down there,” you laugh, love drunk on this man, on Javier Peña and everything the man has to offer.

“‘m trying,” he murmurs, slowly slipping a finger in and marveling at the glide. “God, you’re so tight,” he shivers, his own hips rocking into the bed at the thought of his dick buried inside this. “Gonna take me so well, aren’t you?”

His finger curls softly, experimentally, and you know you’re in for it now when it immediately hits the spongy spot inside. “Holy- oh fuck, Javi,” you pant, one hand gripping the sheets. “Right there.”

Javier smirks. “I’ve barely done anything to you. Look at this.” He slips a second finger in and you groan again, your head falling back into the pillow and your back arching.

There’s the late afternoon sunlight coming in through the slats in your shades, falling onto your bare breasts and Javier’s muscular back. The light is fading, the December sunset already approaching. God, he looks so good doing this, all you can do is whine his name again and again.

It doesn’t take long once he has two fingers inside of you, working them against that perfect spot and bringing his lips back to praise your clit. He can feel your body tense, your thighs tighten around his head. God, you could probably crush him like this, maybe smother him, but he can’t think of a better way to go. This is how he wants to die someday: his head buried between your thighs, tasting the most divine thing his tongue has ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You come with little fanfare, but Javier can feel it in the way your body moves. Your thighs spread wider, shaking, and your pussy clenches around his fingers. Your back arches and the soft noises you’ve been making slowly dissipate as it all fades.

He works you through it then looks at you with a smirk, licking his lips and the bottom of that goddamn mustache. “That thing is fitting,” you tease, stroking his damp mustache. “You have a tongue like a damn porn star.”

“Then just wait until you feel what else I have for you,” he teases, crawling over you until his hands are on either side of your head. You laugh and reach up to kiss him, groaning at the taste of your own tang on his lips. He’s such a fantastic kisser. You could just make out with him for hours, admiring the softness of his lips even when they’re slightly chapped.

Reaching over blindly, you fumble for your nightstand and reach into the drawer to find a box of condoms. You have to break away, but you return to him with one and hold it up, grinning. He snatches it from you and steals one last kiss before tearing it open with his teeth, tossing the packet aside and rolling the condom down over himself.

Javi kisses you again, deeply. Meaningfully. “You sure about this, little bee?” He asks, voice blown with lust, painfully hard from denying himself sensation while eating you out.

“I haven’t wanted anyone more,” you smirk. “But remember what I said earlier?” You tease, cocking an eyebrow and tracing your fingers across his jaw.

“That you love me?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“That we can take our time later. Now I want you to fuck me, please, baby.”

The words send a shiver down his spine and he nods. “If that’s what you want. I… I won’t hold back.”

“Give me your worst,” you smirk and kiss him hard.

He wastes no time. He lines himself up to your entrance and pushes in, burying himself to the base and grimacing at how good it feels, how much effort it takes for him not to lose it. He takes a minute, taking deep breaths. “You feel okay?”

He’s thick. There’s no denying it. Even with his fingers before, this is a different stretch. It’s aching but in a good way, in a way that makes you desperate to feel it. “Feel so fucking good already,” you admit, kissing his neck.

Once he’s ready, he begins. He starts with a rhythm that already makes you lose your senses, desperately clinging to the only thing you can think of or feel: him. His dick is large, and presses against just the spot that made you lose it minutes ago. His thrusts are not gentle, but rough and grinding. You can’t get enough.

His pace picks up. His hips snap into yours, moving a thick thumb to circle your sensitive clit with the pad of his finger. “You feel so fucking good, lil’ bee,” he breathes. His Texan accent from his upbringing is more present when he’s sleepy, you’ve noticed, but also when he’s extra turned on. Fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard.

“God, fuck,” you whine and cling to him, wrapping a leg around his waist and crying out as that allows him to get even deeper inside of you. “Javier, please baby,” you mutter, your hands frantically grabbing at his muscular back.

“You got it,” he grunts, each syllable in time with a thrust that pushes into you deeper and deeper. Your nails dig into his back unintentionally and he whines at the feeling, the pain and pleasure mingling perfectly. “Fuck, pretty girl. So fuckin’ good, taking me so perfectly. Like you were meant for this, huh?”

Whatever sense you have left agrees. You must’ve been. The universe put you two together in a surprising way so that you could feel this heavenly joining of bodies, so you can make each other see the farthest stars in the galaxy. “Yeah, oh Christ, Javi,” you groan as his fingers work in the opposite direction on your clit. “Harder, please.”

“I’ll try,” he chuckles dryly, wrapping your other leg around his waist. The position keeps him connected to you even when his thrusts nearly pull him fully out of you. “You like that?”

“Fucking love it, Javi,” you nod and grind your hips back against him and his hand. The friction makes him hiss, desperate for anything you’ll give. “Think I’m close. Think I’m gonna- oh,” you whimper, leaning up to grab his face and pull it down to yours.

He knows you’re coming quick. His lips remain on yours, determined to feel it when it happens. And it does fast- before long, you’re clamping down on him like a fucking vise and you make the prettiest little sounds into his mouth, muffled by his wandering tongue. He groans back, your thoughts passing through mouths rather than ears.

“Good girl,” he groans next to your ear. “Fuck. You make me feel so fucking good, knew you would.” He thrusts harder, and you’re becoming oversensitive but you couldn’t care less. He’s made this all about your pleasure, and he deserves to use you now.

The corners of your eyes prick with overstimulation. “Javi, baby, wanna feel you when you cum,” you beg of him. You dig your nails into his back and it’s the final straw- his hips slow and stutter as he shoots his load into the condom, moaning your name again and again.

When he comes down, he nearly collapses on you, his body like lead as the adrenaline works its way through his veins. He’s all fucked out, exhausted from how long he held back to pleasure you as much as he could. “Mm, baby,” you giggle, digging your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. His face is nestled into your neck and you smile, kissing his temple. He makes a soft noise of content. “Don’t fall asleep or the condom is gonna stick to your penis,” you tease lovingly.

With a groan, Javier sits back on his heels. He makes his way to the bathroom and tosses it in the trash, then gets a warm washcloth to wipe you down with. He takes good care of you, leaving kisses behind the warm water-soaked fabric. He finishes with a kiss on your lips that makes you giggle.

“You’re too good to me. What happened to the slut of Bogotá I’ve heard about?”

“He died with Escobar, maybe?” He chuckles, returning to your bed with you. “Or maybe I forgot to pack him. I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you chuckle. “I absolutely adore this one.” You snuggle into his side, against his flushed and tacky skin.

He kisses your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then your lips. “You really are something, abejita.”

“You know, you’re allowed to call me babe and baby too,” you tease softly, your voice barely a whisper with Javier’s face next to yours.

“Those are generic. Little bee is ours.”

His words melt your heart, making your eyes slip shut and your lips curve into a smile in content. You rest your head on his chest and take a deep sigh.

“I really want to fall asleep, but it’s only 5:15,” Javier sighs.

“How about dinner? Are you hungry?” You ask, tracing your fingers across his soft abdomen and gentle tummy.

He thinks for a second. “How about we get delivery?”

“You read my mind, Peña,” you chuckle and place a soft kiss on his pec. “I love you.”

He takes a deep breath, forces all of the fear to leave his body with the carbon dioxide. “I love you too, abejita.”

taglist:

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña headcanon #javi peña #javi peña x reader #javi peña headcanons #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #narcos #caffeine rush

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ficsnroses · 4 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 - 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜

Johnny Silverhand x female! V.

summary : johnny holds V when she feels overwhelmed, leading to a realization.

warnings : all fluff, some angst. very minor anxiety, nothing big! 1.7k words.

notes : felt like writing some soft johnny content after the smut fest from last week, hope you enjoy! comments and feedback appreciated.

Morning will come, they say; It has to.

It’s all wrong.

She’d sensed it in the air, tasted it on her tongue; known it through the uneven beat of her weary heart.

She wasn’t supposed to wind up here. It wasn’t supposed to get this fucked. A tightness stills in her chest, a dark loom, frayed grey clouds thud inside. Fear gnawed at her heart, boiled in each vein; gnawed and gnawed and gnawed. Within the deep folds of her apartment, she stands at the kitchen counter; an untouched pour of crystal water cold at her fingertip.

As if a drink would subdue, sate the tremble inside.

A grey cloud persists as she tries to blink, little by little, desperately trying to rid the blades that cut, the ones that sink into her skin with each breath.

“You know,” He begins, voice buttery, cynical. “Standing isn’t gonna do anything.” He appears often, this holographic parasite chained to her wrist. The ruins of a man who once ruled the world, now, just a speech in her ear. Someone to assure her she was still real. Still alive; or so she’d hoped-

that dagger cut the most; she wasn’t even sure she really existed. If he even did, if anything after the black really unfolded.

She wonders how she got here. How things got this way; how she let them snowball this way. Above all, above most, an epiphany rung true, a realization simmers in her veins.

Somewhere along the way, his voice had begun to feel warm.

Began to feel like home. Somewhere through blurred lines and sour regrets, a companion he’d become. Someone to feel un-alone.

“People who want something go out and grab it.” The tone of his voice holds a deep ring, something hoarse, thick. “Get it done”. The words, syllables, vowels merely reach her fraught ears, the sounds dying as they brew in her head.

A deep breath in, she exhales.

A tense of hands, they fall to her sides.

A gulp, heavy swallow in her sore throat, fingers nipping over the tense lump.

She crumbles. A mountain of a woman crumbles, feared for what would be to come.

Something churns inside her stomach, and he notices. He can feel it too, her dread, the heft in her lungs. Just the same, he hadn’t planned on being bound. Her memories blend with his, her vulnerabilities mirror. Somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten which feelings were his own. Two damned souls, filled with anger. Somewhere within the muddle, he felt it too. There was hatred, part of him thought she’d hate him forever. She’d want him gone, out of her head.

First impressions are always hard to undo. Memories don’t come and go so easily.

Yet within the muddle, he felt it too.

Companionship. The world forgot him, but she remembers. She hears, she sees. She feels the shell of a man that once was, hears him through all his rage, his hurt, his fury.

There’s good in her, he knows. He feels it in his bones.

And maybe in another lifetime, this could be something more. They could be, something more.

Maybe in another lifetime, they’ll fit together.

His silver gaze glints, monochrome eyes shone as he takes a step forward, a noticeable ease in his gait as he moves to her leisurely, hesitantly. “V?” Slow, cautious, he watches her from a distance. He’d never seen her this way before, devastated. “Hey,” Closer and closer, his footsteps thud. They near, yet she doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch. A weight sears inside, a burn in each inhale. A deep baritone flows softer as he nears, vigilant. His stare falls threaded, scanning each inch of her worn limbs. Blankly, her eyes fix the floor, empty, stoic. “V.” He offers again, this time, a statement more. Guarded, he gazes the irregularity of her breath, the way a gentle chest flows uneven with shallow, fortified inhales.

The ground beneath her is fading away, he knows. He feels her in his bones. “V?” An inquire again, dust eyes seem almost opal through the dew, she finds it difficult to move. Move, whispers her head. Move. Move. Move. “V!” There had been an almost forceful shift beside her, Johnny growing increasingly alarmed; and she’d felt an primitive fear spear her heart, squeezing her lungs for a moment too long.

It had been the type of fear that couldn’t be stopped. An irrational purge of something a worn mind couldn’t explain, couldn’t comprehend.

The rich of his voice halts in her ears, the call of her name a seemingly helpless plea and consolation, all at once. “V, listen to my voice.” He speaks, assured, calmed. The vibrations flow steady through her body, the wave of his tone a special solace she’d never thought she’d find. Her eyes find his at last, lip quivering ever so slight. The gaze settles, piercing into his in plea, and the look haunts him.

Haunts him, before it’s had time to sink into his fretful realization.

She was breaking before him. “Hey, kid,” he allows, voice softer than ever before; a beautiful velvet of concern rich on his tongue. “You’ll be okay.” His cocoa kissed hair falters in hues under warm apartment lights, and he inches closer, heavy hand reaching, for her. She doesn’t move, she doesn’t flinch.

She holds back a frown; she clenches her heart inside her chest. She bids to feel numb. The pain had become achingly familiar.

Slow, gentle; his hand finds her back, supporting a fragile frame; his spare moving to hold hers. For the first time, his larger fingers thread with hers, they lace. He holds her fragile hand in his, he holds it with care. Pained eyes stare at her, expression unfolding, and she still seems lost. Lost within the jumble around.

He hadn’t been used to this; this phenomenon of touch. Affection.

But maybe, just maybe, surely, he gave a fuck about her. His eyes soften, a faint smile curling his lips just for her. A hope to offer relief. To show her someone; even if merely an apparition, was there.

Someone has her. Gently, cautiously, he grips her tight, secure, leading her drained frame to a hoary couch. He holds her hand with sincerity, he leads her with regard. He could get used to this; touch.

Smoothly, he guides her, urging to sit, finding place adjacent right beside her; and in the tenderness of the moment, his arm finds itself traveling, finding refuge wrapped to her back, his other finding form around. Within the softness of the moment, he cautiously, carefully, envelopes her, and she crumbles into him.

She nestles into his chest, eyes closing as she slowly leans heavily into him for support, her own tattered arms wrapping tightly around him in return. Wet cheeks press to his bare collarbone, and his ghastly heart aches. Beats painfully, for her.

Fingers soft, gentle, he runs them against her skin, breathing deeply at the way she curls into him further, a mellow weep escaping the depths of her throat. “I…” She begins, breath uneven still. “I had this feeling, so peculiar…” The firmness of his jaw tightens as he holds her, offering gentle strokes to her skin. “I know.” He speaks quietly, guarded. “I know, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The first wave of contentment simmers in her veins.

His hold on her body seemed to fill the void.

The moments pass, punctuated by soft sighs, the rise and fall of his broad chest under her form. Warm, his skin feels right against hers; his heart quietly fumbles in his chest. It had been far too long since he’d held someone this way, since he’d been held in return.

To be held; something so simple, yet so direly powerful. Heavy arms wrap around her waist like irons, strong, unbending, drawing her secure back against a warm chest.

She hadn’t known Johnny was warm.

She hadn’t known something kind resides within him.

Gazing up, she meets his stare; his eye gleam with something that makes her sigh softly. Something that makes that ache inside her chest feel, that maybe, just maybe,

in his arms right now, there was no place she’d rather be.

no other blues in the world would do.

The hand that holds her waist loosens, opting to swiftly, gently caress hers in his, fingers intertwining as he lays it to his gear glad chest. “You’ll be okay, kid.” He breathes against the shell of her ear, a shiver, a shudder vying down her spine at the low baritone. “I’ve got you.” he holds her small, brittle fingers. The same brittle fingers that reached, reached feebly for him. They reach, they reach, they reach all at once, nestling closer, his skin pulling her in further than she’d already been.

and to a hum softly off her colour stained lips, the twitch of her mouth quivers apparent as she rests her cheek against his chest, feeling him plant a small, lingering, genuine kiss to the crown of her distraught head; lost in the sea of her hair.

A kiss to her hair. An ode to what could have been.

Perhaps, he’d been imprudently hoping to mend the cracks in her soul. Perhaps, his heart remembers what they took from him once.

Perhaps, perhaps.

Perhaps with her, he can simply…be. The firmness of his jaw loosens, and his arms only hold her tighter.

In this moment, she seems surreal. This smaller, vulnerable, force of a women curled into him seems surreal. The words he feels bubble inside, the delicateness of his realization feels far too heavy; and her shoulders seem far too frail.

he loves her, he knows. He battles, coils, toils within, but he knows.

And to her, in his arms;

yellow, the world seemed.

golden, yellow.

Sleep comes slowly, slowly, all then all at once.

She’d fallen asleep in his arms, somewhere along the reveries passed.

His realization had come; all at once. With her in his arms, his realization had come; an ode to sleep he whispers.

He felt himself smile faintly into her hair. In his arms tonight, she hurts, withers, wilts. And he feels himself bleed,

for her.

yellow,

red,

black. He feels them all,

he bleeds them all.

But morning will come; it has to.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

hope ya liked it! I have a permanent taglist I use for all stories, which are mainly for John Wick. if you would like to be tagged in just future Silverhand fics, lemme know and I can add you to that!

#johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand x reader #Johnny silverhand x you #Johnny silverhand imagine #Johnny silverhand fanfic

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giggles-and-freckles · 4 years ago

Note

bed bargain for satine and obi-wan maybe?? 😍

bed bargain: [Obi-Wan] won’t stay in bed. [Satine] convinces them. (from these prompts)

Obi-Wan groans from his desk as knuckles rap against the other side of the door. It’s Anakin, no doubt, come to question him on the events of the day. There’s no confusion on exactly what Anakin will be wanting to know.

Girlfriend. A ridiculous accusation and just something to get under Obi-Wan’s skin. The trouble is Anakin’s always been far too good at that and Obi-Wan let it get to him today.

He’s in severe need of a break. But Death Watch seems to be a larger issue than the Council had thought and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

The knocking continues.

He sighs deeply and pushes away from the desk. As he stands, there’s a rush of hot fuzziness that fills the space behind his eyes. But he blinks and it’s gone. Yet another side effect of the long day, apparently. To accompany the dizziness that has developed in the past hour.

The knocking is louder. More hurried.

Definitely Anakin.

“I’m coming!” he yells, making his way to the door. “Honestly, all these years and you have learned nothing of patience—“

He stops as the door slides open.

“You would be amazed at the patience I have developed, actually.”

“Duchess,” he says stiffly.

Her lips twitch into a frown, but flatten back out into a thin line. “Hello.”

“It’s late.”

“Yet you are still awake.”

He casts a quick glance behind him, but the movement is too quick. The room spins and his hand reaches out, blindly. He finds the edge of the door and grips it.

“I’ve been busy,” he says, turning back around to find that her eyes are fixed on his hand, clinging to the door.

She looks back up. “I assumed as much. Before tomorrow, when the Republic will undoubtedly take your words and twist them until I am the villain they are apparently so desperate for,” – she ignores his scoff – “I wanted us to try and get on the same page.”

“We have never quite managed to achieve that, my dear,” he says.

Her frown deepens as she studies him. “Not for lack of trying.”

He clears his throat. “Is this something we could discuss in the morning? I still have–”

“No,” she says, and pushes past him into the room. “Now is good.”

“For you,” he grumbles, but allows the door to slide closed. He turns and follows her in the room. She sits on the sofa easily, as if this is the most normal thing. “I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you for the luxurious accommodations. Anakin hasn’t stopped talking about–”

“He’s not what I expected.”

Obi-Wan blinks. He wants to sit, but can’t bring himself to join her on the couch. So he hovers. “Pardon?”

“Your student. He idolises you, clearly. When you used to call and tell me of him–”

“That was a very long time ago,” he says quickly.

“Yes,” she agrees quietly. Her eyes move to the floor between them. “It was.”

His visions swims and he can’t determine whether it’s exhaustion or a response to the lowness of her tone. The unopened nook of hurt and betrayal that she clearly feels, though he can’t understand why.

But then–that’s not true either. It’s just what he’s told himself for the past ten years, to avoid the habitual pain he was putting himself through for so long. Constantly comming her–and thinking about her in the meantime. Something had to give if he was to honour his commitment to the Jedi and his commitment to Anakin.

He drops to the couch next to her. “I was lost.”

“I know,” she says softly. “But you also didn’t want to be found.”

“I needed to…” he frowns, looking for the words. It’s painful revisiting this part of his life, immediately after Qui-Gon’s death, when everything was overwhelming and nothing felt right. “Needed to figure it out.”

“No,” she says, but there’s no chastisement in her voice. “Not by yourself.”

“Yes,” he insists. “I–”

“My dear Obi-Wan,” she says. Fixes him with those eyes that have seen too much of the galaxy and too much of him. There’s too much compassion that he doesn’t feel particularly deserving of. “Accepting help is not a crime.”

He shuts his eyes, but it does nothing to stop the pounding in his head or the pain in his chest.

“Obi-Wan?” she says, her tone sharper than it was before. Then– “Obi-Wan!”

“I’m all right,” he manages, opening his eyes as the wave of nausea passes. He pulls a weak smile. “Sorry. I just–”

She fixes him with a hard stare. “You’re ill.”

“I’m not ill,” he scoffs.

She lifts her hand and rests it on his forehead. Doesn’t let him pull away. “Stubborn as always.”

Since she’s not letting him move away, he figures there’s no real harm in leaning into her a bit. “You have no experience with that.”

Satine laughs loudly and lets her hand fall to his cheek. They watch each other for a moment and Obi-Wan wonders if she sees the wayward young padawan the way he sees the headstrong young duchess. So much has changed, in the galaxy and between them, but beyond the light wrinkles (which he’d never point out, obviously) and thinner face, it’s the same eyes blinking back at him. He’s thankful for something consistent.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “for not holding it against me.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she hums. Her hand falls to the place on the couch between them. She moves it so that it rests over his.

He rolls his eyes at her snark, but turns his hand over under hers. Links their fingers together. “When Qui-Gon died. You were so…” A deep sigh. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“I didn’t do anything, my dear. You–”

“Exactly. You just listened. Let me talk, grieve, process,” he says. “I needed that. Even though I left...you never…”

She squeezes his hand. “There was never a question of you leaving. I knew it was coming–and I wasn’t angry. You had to return to the Jedi. I...I had a system to lead.”

“But even so. When I sought your help–”

“I’ll always be there for you, my dear.”

His gut twists over. “I don’t deserve that.”

“You’re right,” she says, nodding. Then, lifts their interlinked hands up and drops the lightest of kisses on the back of his palm. “You deserve so much more. More than this harsh galaxy will ever be able to repay you, I fear.”

“With Anakin. And...everything. I was overwhelmed. I was...I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry. I...I didn’t mean to lose you, too.”

She smiles at him. “You didn’t.” Kisses his hand again. “And you never will.” She stands from the couch, then, pulling him up along with her. The motion jars him, and he has to grip her shoulder to stay upright. She looks him up and down with a frown. “I believe it’s time for bed for you, darling.”

He pulls away as well as he can. Grounds his feet and takes a breath. “No. I have to finish–”

“Obi-Wan,” she says firmly. “Bed.”

“I have work to do. Death Watch. They...I need to keep you safe. Need to–”

“As the ruler of this world, I order you to go to bed.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth opens, then closes. “You can’t,” – he frowns at the floor for a moment, then smiles victoriously – “I have diplomatic immunity!”

“This isn’t the Republic,” she reminds him. “And if you remember–I’m particularly stubborn.” She begins to guide him toward the bed, even as he struggles against her. “Oh, honestly, Obi-Wan. Stop being such a child.”

“Stop treating me like one!” he cries, then stops walking abruptly as the room begins to spin again. He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes and takes a shuddery breath. This bout of dizziness lasts longer than the ones before and it takes him an extra moment to gather himself.

A light hand is at his back immediately, rubbing small circles. For some reason, the motion cracks his resolve.

“I can’t sleep,” he says, scared of how broken he sounds. “When I do...it’s just nightmares. Images, memories–”

“I’ll stay,” she says, and wraps an arm around his waist.

“That’s highly inappropriate,” he says immediately in response because it’s what he’s supposed to say. And Obi-Wan Kenobi has grown very good at saying what he’s supposed to say. If the Council were to catch wind of this. A Jedi Master sharing a bed with a Duchess–

She lifts an eyebrow and his face reddens. Because he knows she’s remembering what he’s remembering. How unconcerned he was with what was appropriate once upon a time. He’s lost the padawan braid since then, though, and she’s gained a system of planets. It’s not the same.

“I’ll only stay until you fall asleep,” she says, saving him from further embarrassment.

Obi-Wan can’t bring himself to admit his disappointment, so he just nods, and sheds his outer robe. She watches as he kicks off his boots and sets them in the corner of the room. Watches as he unties his belt and drapes it over a chair. When he finally makes his way toward the bed, she is waiting for him, standing with her arms crossed and a patient expression.

“Are you quite done?” she says, and her lips quirk up at the corners.

He doesn’t respond. Only rolls his eyes and slides beneath the sheets. She pulls back the other side in a much more graceful manner, making sure her long dress doesn’t get wrapped around her. She’s always had such a talent for making the mundane look like a dance. He tries not to stare; it’s hard.

There is at least a foot of space between them in the bed and neither makes a move to close it.

“You didn’t use to sleep with so many clothes on,” she says after a moment of silence.

“Neither did you.”

She makes a sound of indignation, then sighs. “Touché.”

He chuckles and reaches for her hand, under the sheets. She flinches when he first grabs it and he wonders if this is too much. Physical contact within the confines of a bed. He moves to pull back, but her grip is vice-like. She doesn’t turn her head to look at him, but he’s glad. He’s still having a hard time not staring.

“Thank you,” he says finally.

…

When the sunlight filters through the curtains he never drew closed and wakes him up the next morning, she’s still there.

#my fic #obitine #and just like that...it becomes 2k words HAHA OOPS #throwing this in the q because i'm gonna be out of commission for a few days so who knows when this will pop up on my feed #writing prompts #prompts now closed btw!#q

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