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ourfleur · 1 year ago

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「Alone Together」　[Ada Wong x Fem Reader]

Summary: You were just supposed to retrieve the weapon, thats all. But when a woman from your past makes an appearance you can’t get your mind off of her.

Tags: ada wong x fem reader, angst, hurt/comfort, (mild?) smut, making out, ahhhhhh

An: Hii okay so I dont know how much I like this but yknow its whatever, i love ada tho so!!

follow my ao3

“Drop your weapon.” Your chilling voice rang out behind her. “I’m not fucking joking Ada. Drop your weapon.” She turned her head back to you, dropping her gun to the floor. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was cold and distant, as you pointed your pistol at Ada’s head. “Same as you I assume, we both have jobs to do, don’t we?” She said, eyes narrowing at the girl holding her at gun-point. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t shoot you right now for what you did to me.” You snarled. Ada stared at you silently, the quiet seeming to last forever, before familiar footsteps echoed from behind the door. ‘Shit’ you thought to yourself, the thing chasing you was here now. Your eyes darted over to the door, then back to Ada. “Don’t ever let me see you again.” Uttering one last thing before making your exit.

The moment you left your heart started aching at seeing the woman. Four years of having pure hatred for her dissolved the moment she was back in front of you. Every second you looked at her it became harder to keep yourself composed, only wanting to grab her and never let her go. And now that she was gone again all you wanted to do was run back to her. You sighed, pushing away your foolish thoughts and moving on with your mission.

You had been sent to France to retrieve a weapon of mass destruction, to make sure that it didn’t get into the wrong hands. This was an extremely important mission and you couldn’t risk and mistakes, it was already enough that there was this whole insane cult running the whole place but the fact your former partner, the partner who you had shared your deepest secrets, the partner who you had grown to love in ways that you couldn’t describe, the partner who had double crossed you, was there, working against you.

You made your way to a stronghold that you were told had information on locating the weapon, avoiding all of the cult members and obstacles. You carefully made your way into the large building, taking extra care to not be spotted. Once you were inside you couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched. Eyes scanning any place someone could be hiding, but nothing. Making your way through the rooms and halls, you felt like you were losing your mind, everywhere you looked you swore you could see Ada. That dark red fabric appearing in the corner of your eye every time you turned your head. You cursed at yourself mentally, angered that you couldn’t stop thinking about her. You needed to focus, the mission depended on it. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself at the thought of Ada.

Finally you arrived in the right place, a computer lab. You looked all over for the right computer, finding it hidden away in a corner. You inspected the files on it for a bit till the right one finally crossed your eye. The only way to get to the weapon was through a locked door, only accessible with a keycard. To your luck, the keycard was only a short bit away, in the next building over. You let out a sigh of relief, soon your mission would be over and you could go home and not have to think about anything, especially the woman in red.

You ran out of the room, jogging down a long corridor that led to a large open room. Before you could reach the door though, you were grabbed and thrown to the floor brutally. Shocked, you turned around to see the thing that was chasing you finally caught up. You drew your gun, shooting it as much as you could. It flew towards you and before you could even react, it was on top of you. Its claws wrapping around your neck as it pushed you deeper into the ground. You tried and tried to pry it off of you but nothing was working. Your grip loosened as you faded in and out of consciousness. Your vision started to fade to black, your body growing limp as it started to accept its fate.

A muffled voice called your name, even with your blurry faded vision you could still see the familiar red fabric. “Ada..?” you choked out. You could feel the beast on top of you get up to attack the new threat that faced it. You tried to get your bearings, taking in a deep breath, air filling your lungs. You attempted to stand before collapsing, you could barely keep your eyes open. Before you could entirely lose consciousness you felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around you. Ada pulled you up, keeping you stable as she walked you away from the scene that had just played out. “Hold on tight, okay?” You didn’t even have the energy to respond, only being able to meekly nod while you mustered all your strength to hold onto her waist.

Ada used her grappling hook to pull the both of you away. The two of you landed at the entrance to a different building. Ada pulled you into the room, holding you as tight as she could. She saw a couch and brought you to it, gently laying you down on it. Ada pulled away, looking down at your broken body and then back to the door. Ada turned to the door, giving you one last look before making her exit. But before she could, your hand shot to hers. Ada turned back to you, your tired eyes giving her a look of pain and desperation. You couldn’t pretend to hate her anymore and you couldn’t let her slip away from you again. “Please Ada… stay.” Her eyes softened, looking at the door again and then back to you. Ada let out a breath before moving back towards you. You tried to sit up but cried out in pain the moment you moved your body.

“I bet I look pretty pathetic right now.” Your tone both playful and full of pain. Ada chuckled, “Yeah, you do.” She said with a small smile. You laughed at Adas response, immediately regretting it afterwards when you felt a sharp pain in your side. You looked down to see a large thorn stuck in your side, blood soaking the fabric that surrounded your wound, you didn’t even notice. Adas eyes moved down to where yours were looking and widened when she saw the object, stuck deeply in your side. Your name left Adas' lips in a panic as she frantically searched the room you were in for any medical supplies. She opened drawer after drawer in the room that looked to be a lounge once you actually paid attention to your surroundings. You heard Ada shuffling around and then a relieved noise leave her mouth.

Ada came back to you, crouching down on the ground next to your wound. Her delicate hands wrapped around the thorn. “Are you ready?” She looked up at you for confirmation that she could pull it out. You nodded, moving your hand down to hold her free hand. As your fingers entwined she began to pull on the thing stuck in your side. You screamed in pain as it was torn out of you, blood now gushing freely from your open wound. Ada immediately grabbed some gauze she found, releasing her hand from yours to lift your back slightly off the couch so she could wrap the gauze around your wound. Ada stood back up, grabbing your hand to pull you into a sitting position. You groaned as she sat you up, the pain in your side still excruciating.

Ada sat down behind you, grabbing some of the leftover gauze. “Your back is pretty scrapped up too..” Adas fingers traced over the wounds she could see through your torn shirt. Your breath hitched as she moved down to lift your shirt. “A-Ada what are you doing..?” Your words coming out stuttered. “Helping. I am helping.” Your name left her tongue with a tinge of annoyance, almost to say ‘Just let me do this for you.’ You exhaled, muttering a small ‘okay’. Her fingers grabbing the hem of your tight shirt, pulling it up. “Raise your arms.” She said, her breath on your neck leaving goosebumps. You brought your arms up as much as you could, pained groans leaving your lips.

Ada pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bra and revealing your tattered back. There were cuts and bruises speckled all over you. Ada took off her gloves, setting them to the side. She took her hand and slowly caressed your wounds with her fingers. You hissed at the feeling, your cuts stinging every time they were touched. Ada took in a breath, reminding herself of what she was doing and what was in front of her. Ada removed her hands from your back. You could hear her rustling around a bit behind you but were unsure of what she was doing until you felt a cold, wet cloth rub against your back. The more you thought about it, the more insane this situation became and the more the silence between the two of you became agonising. You sensed Ada felt the same but before you could say anything, she beat you to it.

“You need to be more careful.” She sounded exasperated, stern, the way a mother sounds when lecturing their child. You snorted, “You sound just like my mom.” Finding amusement in Adas worry. “If I wasn’t there you would’ve died, and I still haven’t gotten a thank you.” She smiled slightly, as did you. “Fine, fine. Thank you, Ada… for saving me.” You could feel Adas content with your gratitude and another silence fell over the two of you.

After a little bit longer of Ada tending to the wounds on your back, she set down the rag. “There.” You could feel her lifting her body off of the couch and your body reacted before your mind. You turned around and pulled her back down. Her eyes went wide for a second as she was forced back onto the sofa. “Ada. I can’t do this.” Your voice cracked as you spoke. “Wha-”, “I can’t let you leave again.” You didn’t even mean to say these things but once you started you couldn’t stop. “I hated you for so long for betraying me. I thought about it every single day, I thought about you every single day.” Voice shaky as you relayed your feelings to the woman. “For months after you betrayed me I thought I saw you everywhere, I mean fuck, I hoped I did.” All Ada could do was just stare at the girl in front of her. “I mean, I don’t know… I thought I hated you, I wanted to see you and take everything out on you.” You felt tears prick your eyes as you continued. “I kept thinking about the things we did together, the person you helped me become when we worked together and the person I became after. I know it was probably all an act but… I can’t do this Ada.” You looked into Ada's dark eyes, you could see something in them but you weren’t quite sure what. “Ada please… please stay this time.” Your eyes were desperate, you were pleading for this woman to stay.

Your teary eyes stared into Ada’s stoic face, searching for any amount of feeling. You looked down at your legs, trying to hold back the sea of tears threatening to escape your already watery eyes. Suddenly, your face was pushed upwards. Ada's hand on your chin, she pulled you to meet her lips. You immediately melted into Ada's gentle touch, her free hand moving to the back of your head. The kiss was soft, almost shy, both of you unsure about what you were doing. Reluctantly you moved your arms to wrap around Adas waist. As the kiss went on for longer you became more comfortable, your kiss turning into something more passionate and desperate. Adas tongue gliding across your lips, requesting entrance, to which you obliged. As Ada explored you mouth, you explored her body, your hands running wild as they roamed Ada’s form.

As things started to heat up even more, Ada carefully laid you back, being careful not to agitate any of your wounds, not that you cared anymore, you had better things to focus on. The two of you broke apart, gasping for air. Ada looked at you in a way you couldn’t get enough of. “Please… don’t stop.” Your words coming out barely loud enough to be audible. Ada didn’t need to say anything, right now actions speak louder than words. She moved her head to your neck, gently kissing you. Ada took her time there, figuring out what move made what sound. While her mouth was occupied she made quick work of your pants. Moving her hand to your clit. Soft fingers finding the perfect rythme to elicit beautiful noises from you. You felt like you were dreaming. The pain from your wounds completely overshadowed by the feeling of pleasure building in your core from Ada’s fingers. You couldn’t contain yourself, soft whimpers escaping your mouth as Ada slowly worked you to your high.

She then moved her mouth down, making sure to flutter kisses wherever she moved. With one hand she unclasped your bra, moving it out of the way so she could have access to your breasts. Her mouth found its place around your nipple, the feeling almost too much for you. You could feel the knot in your stomach starting to tighten. Ada was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. Her fingers picked up the pace, rubbing your clit at a speed that had you losing your mind. Before you knew it, you were climaxing. Whines and moans escaping your lips. Ada worked you through it so well, telling you how good you were doing, keeping the same pace, making sure you felt cared for. You sunk even more into the couch, body going limp after your high. You looked at Ada through half lidded eyes, you couldn’t describe what you were feeling, it was all too much.

To be with the woman you have spent the last four years thinking about every single second of every single day? It was so bittersweet. Noise erupted from Adas radio, both of your heads turning to the sound. In that moment you remembered that this was temporary. “Ada..” Her eyes softened the moment you spoke. “You’re going to leave me aren’t you..” You couldn’t hide the pain in your voice. This amazing moment all coming to a painful end at your realisation that no matter how much you beg her to stay.. she can’t. Ada looked away, trying to compose herself. “I have to.” She got off of you, pulling herself up and cleaning off her dress. You sat up too, the pain from your injuries back in full force. Ada grabbed your discarded clothing, moving behind you again so she could clip your bra back into place and help you put your shirt back on. Ada reached out her hand, to which you grabbed and she helped you up.

You were both now standing facing each other, sullen eyes not daring to break contact, your hands stills clasped together. The radio sprung to life once more, requesting Ada go somewhere, somewhere away from you. Ada sighed, breaking eye contact and releasing her hand from your hold. She picked up her gloves, slipping them back on and turning her back to you. Ada turned her head back to look at you once more, before speaking. “Don’t let this be the last time you ever see me.” The same subtle smile showing up on her face before she turned and walked out the door. Your face contorted into a pained expression. “I won’t Ada. I promise.”

#ada wong #ada wong x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil ada wong #re #re4 #re4make #wlw #sapphic #lesbian

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ploxpoke · 11 months ago

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Izana X fem!reader

Tw- Smoking, mentions of violence, bad words (lmao)

Fluff with Izana bc I love him <3

Title: ♥ Out Of My League ♥

Izana was in your grade, and despite the two of you being in vastly differing social circles, Izana was interested in you. He’d been watching you for a while now, but he knew better than to approach you head on. He didn’t know what made you attractive to him but all he wanted was your attention. He wanted to make sure you were safe, comfortable, and protected.

One day Izana saw you walk up to the roof, presumably to eat lunch. He followed you up and he watched you sit down and begin to eat your lunch and took this as an opportunity to talk to you. He walked towards you, his face fixed into a cold and calculating expression. He looks down at you and asks “Who are you?”

You were shocked by his sudden appearance and felt your heart skip a beat. You turned around slowly and looked at him with wide eyes. Your cheeks were flushed from both embarrassment and surprise and you hesitated before answering

“I-I'm Y/n”

You say quietly, trying not to sound too timid. You glanced back towards your food before speaking again

“And uh- I came here to eat my lunch today, since it's pretty empty up here and all... “

You pause for a second before you feel a pang of guilt, you were probably bothering him you told yourself.

“Do you eat here? Am I in the way?”

You asked while looking up at him nervously, wondering if he would react negatively to your presence. “I'm sorry- I can just leave if you'd like.” You quickly stand up, about to leave. You feel a sense of dread and you hope he's not too mad at you. “I'm sorry-”

Izana raises an eyebrow at your response, clearly surprised by your reaction to his presence, but he maintains his cold demeanor nonetheless. He leans against the wall beside you, crossing one leg over the other as he observes you carefully. His eyes narrow slightly, taking note of your nervous behavior and the fact that you seemed to be struggling with whether or not you should stay.

“You’re not in the way,Y/n. You can stay here if you want to, I don’t mind.” He says simply, causing your heart to flutter “So, why do you come up here to eat alone?”

You felt a surge of relief upon hearing him say that you could stay, but then you noticed how his tone had changed and he asked you why you were alone. You froze for a second, unsure of how to answer him.

You didn't want to seem rude or disrespectful, but at the same time, you didn't want to give him an honest answer, since the truth was that you were ruthlessly bullied. “Uh... I don't really have many friends, so I thought it would be better to be alone. I like the quiet mostly” You said quietly, not meeting his gaze and keeping your eyes glued to the ground. You had tried to keep your answer short and sweet, hoping that he wouldn't pry more into your personal life and prayed he'd leave you alone instead of messing with you.

You felt some guilt for not telling the whole truth but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Despite saying that, you still hoped that he wouldn't think you were some kind of loser or something, even if you were to most people, because you really did like him and he was quite popular with the girls at school.

Izana listened intently to your response, his expression remaining impassive, but internally, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pity for you. He had always been fascinated by those weaker than him, and now that he had identified you as someone who needed protection, he found himself drawn to you even more.

However, he knew that he couldn't let anyone see this vulnerability, especially not someone like you.

“Fine, I understand, Y/n.” He said softly, still maintaining his cold exterior but somehow making it sound more gentle at the same time.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one without actually asking if you wanted one. “Would you mind lighting mine for me?”

You were taken aback by his request, feeling your cheeks turn bright red from both shock and embarrassment. You’d never smoked a cigarette before nor did you plan to, but despite that, you agreed to light his cigarette for him.

“Uhm- sure, I guess I can”

You lit his cigarette, your hands shaking slightly as you did so having never used a lighter.

You don't exactly like smoking, but you don't say anything about it. you can smell the smoke and your face scrunches a little from the smell. You keep your eyes focused on the ground and you try to ignore the fact that you hate the smell of smoke

Izana watched you closely as you lit his cigarette, noticing your discomfort with the scent of the cigarette smoke, but he maintained his cold exterior. He took a deep drag from the cigarette, exhaling slowly, causing the smoke to swirl around him. He then leaned forward slightly, reaching out with his free hand to take yours, pulling you closer to him and placing the cigarette between your lips.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him while whispering into your ear

“Take a deep breath, Y/n.. Inhale deeply.” He commanded, his voice low and firm, but also strangely gentle at the same time.

Your heart raced as you felt his strong embrace and you took a deep breath, inhaling the cigarette smoke that fills your lungs. You coughed slightly, trying to hide your discomfort and you looked up at him through your lashes, but still not daring to look into his eyes. You quickly look back down, not wanting him to notice you staring at him.

Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were wide, but your body relaxed slightly against his as he held you close. The scent of the cigarette filled your nose and made you slightly nauseous, but you didn't complain. You feel a slight burn in the back of your throat and you hate the sensation.

You coughed a little more and the taste of tobacco and smoke was stuck in your mouth and you hated it but you didn't dare say a word about it. You never wanted this moment to end.

The cigarette smoke mixed with the scent of his cologne and you breathed it in deeply, savoring every moment of being close to him, even though you knew you shouldn't. You tried to focus on everything but the disgusting smell and taste of the cigarette. You can't bring yourself to look at him but you can feel him staring at you.

Izana watched you closely as you took a deep breath, taking note of your discomfort with the cigarette smoke. He saw your hesitation and decided to pull the cigarette away from your lips, putting it out on the roof of the building before he placed it back in his pocket.

He then wrapped his arms around you even more tightly, pulling you against his chest and resting his chin on top of your head.”You don't like it, do you?” He asked softly, his voice full of concern.

Despite his dominating nature, he genuinely cared about your comfort and well-being. His arms tightened around you, squeezing you reassuringly as he whispered into your ear. “It's alright if you don't like it.”

He could tell you were worried about something and he murmured to you, his voice honey sweet, “Don't worry, y/n. You're safe here with me.” His tone was low and soothing, but also possessive, as if he was claiming you as his own.

You nodded against his chest, not looking at him, but feeling his strong arms around you and his warmth. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body and it made you feel safe, despite the fact that he was a stranger to you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care that you didn’t know him that well, you just felt protected. You felt his lips near your ear and you turned your head slightly, wanting to look at him but something in your mind told you you didn’t deserve to so you don't and instead you stare at the ground

“Yeah... I really don't like it.” You whispered back, not meeting his gaze. You felt his chin on your head and smiled slightly. You could tell he was smiling but you still don’t look up at him.

“The taste is gross and the smell makes me want to throw up... reminds me of things I don't want to remember like...-”

You trailed off, not finishing your sentence. You shudder a little and you open your mouth to say something else when you hear people walking up the stairs to the roof. You realize that it's people you usually see Izana with. Other students say they're all in a gang, and you hold your breath for a second nervously. You know those people, and they're not the nicest. You always tended to believe that at least some of them were in gangs.

Izana heard the footsteps approaching and immediately recognized the sound of his friends, the members of the Tenjiku gang. He tightened his arms around you slightly, pulling you even closer to him as he glanced over his shoulder towards the source of the noise.He spoke softly into your ear

“Don't worry, Y/n”.. They won't bother us right now.”

He said reassuringly, even though he knew that wasn't entirely true. His friends often came to the rooftop to hang out with him, and occasionally they would get rowdy and start fighting or arguing with each other. But for now, he wanted to keep you safe from their prying eyes and judgmental gazes.

"Well, they won't bother you... maybe each other but I won't let them bother you…”

You listened to his words and felt a sudden surge of relief. You didn't know why, but the thought of his friends seeing you with him, especially since he’d never really spoken to you before made you feel extremely uncomfortable.

You didn't understand why, but your gut told you to be wary of him and you couldn't help but listen to it. As the footsteps grew closer, you held your breath and felt his arms tighten around you. You knew he was protecting you, but there was something in his demeanor that told you that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you.

You hide your face, not wanting anyone to see you at all anymore. You knew the people weren't going to leave and you knew Izana wouldn't let you leave so you did your best to avoid eye contact and kept your eyes on the ground

The footsteps stopped and you heard voices, and you recognized two of them as people you’ve seen Izana talking to quite often. you know who they are, Rindou and Ran Haitani .

The two brothers were calling out for Izana, and when they saw him, they didn't notice you at first. Several other boys joined them before they realized you were even there. Izana kept his grip on you tight and the boys just stared at you for a second, not knowing how to react to your presence.

Rindou and Ran, stopped in front of Izana, their faces filled with surprise as they noticed him holding onto you. Rindou glanced at you briefly before turning back to Izana, his eyebrow raised in question.

"Izana... Who's this? You've got a grip on her like you don't want her running away. Did she do something?"

Rindou asked curiously, while Ran frowned in confusion, clearly not understanding why Izana had brought someone up here with him.

"She looks pretty frail, you might break her if you're not careful" Ran jokes

One of the other members of the gang; Kanji, walked over to join them, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked at them. "What's going on here?" He demanded, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared.

"What'd she do huh? We need to kick her ass or something?" He glanced at you with an unimpressed expression.

You flinched as the boys started asking questions, and youI felt extremely vulnerable and exposed, but Izana's tight grip around you and his reassuring presence gave you strength.

You didn't dare speak up, and you didn't move an inch. You felt like a doll in his hands, and you hated it, but you also knew that if you moved or tried to run away, nothing good would come out of it. So, you remained silent, trying to stay as calm as possible

You gripped part of Izana's coat in reflex when you heard them mention you doing something. You could feel the fear bubble up from your chest and tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes but you will yourself not to cry in front of them. A small whimper left you as you closed your eyes, trying not to panic.

You looked around and you saw a few people who you knew because they had bullied you but, you weren't worried about that. You were more worried about Ran, Rindou and especially Kanji's words.

You didn't know what was going to happen, let alone if Izana decided you did do something to deserve being beat up. You tremble slightly and you feel Izana's grip tighten even more

Izana scowled at the implication that anyone might hurt you from Kanji's comment, his grip on you tightening even further as he glared at the member of the gang. Ran and Rindou exchanged confused glances, not understanding why Kanji would immediately decide to choose violence.

"Fuck off, Kanji," Rindou snapped "She hasn't done anything wrong yet you dickhead." Ran nodded in agreement, looking at you with concern yet still had an amused grin on his face

Kanji rolled his eyes at their comments, unimpressed by their defense of you. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, glaring at all of you.

"Oh yeah? Then what's she doing clinging onto him like a lost puppy then? Looks like she's scared of something"

Ran scoffed and shot him a dubious glance "She's afraid of you asshat. You're not nice to anyone and you just threatened her..." Ran spoke casually and his words were long and drawn out.

Izana's hand tightened around your waist as he sensed your fear, and he whispered softly into your ear so that only you could hear him, "Don't worry, Y/n. Trust me, they won't hurt you. I won't let them."

He spoke reassuringly, even though he knew that he couldn't guarantee your safety completely. He hoped that his words would comfort you enough to ease your fears somewhat. The three members of the gang approached you cautiously, sizing you up as they studied your appearance.

Rindou and Ran exchanged glances, their expressions hardening slightly as they took note of your trembling and the way you clung onto Izana's coat while Kanji just looked angry. The three of them watched you and the way you responded to their stares with interest.

You heard Izana's words and felt a little more confident, but you were still very much scared. You look up at him and see that he said something to the guys, but you didn't quite hear what. You look back at the guys and you see how they study you. You think they look like they want to hurt you, but Izana's words made you feel safer, so you trusted him.

You believed him.

You slowly let go of his coat, but you kept your hands on it since it made you feel safer. You heard Rin and Ran talking, and looked at them with wide eyes, they seemed to be having a disagreement. You couldn't understand what they were saying, but you knew that they were arguing about something related to you.

You see Kanji glaring at you from the corner of your eye and you feel your panic come back but as your breathing picks up you feel Izana's hand lift your chin up to make you look at him.

He smirked and leaned closer to you slowly. This got the attention of everyone.

Ran and Rin stared with grins on their faces, as if they knew what Izana was going to do and Kanji looked even more angry. You open your mouth to say something to Izana only to be shushed by his lips on yours. Your whole body freezes up and Izana smirks into the kiss before pulling away and looking at the members of Tenjiku. He noticed how their expressions changed from anger to curiosity to realization as they watched him kiss you.

He knew that this would catch their attention and distract them momentarily from their plans to intimidate you as well as show why he was so interested in keeping you close. His hand rested on your cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb while his other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him.

He saw the confusion and surprise on everyone’s faces, including yours, as they realized what had just happened, and he enjoyed every second of it.

Ran and Rindou exchanged amused glances, their earlier argument forgotten as they observed the scene unfold before them. Ran elbowed Rindou and grinned widely at him and Rindou handed him something that looked suspiciously like money.

Ran snickered softly, "Well fuck, looks like someone's got themselves a girlfriend already"

Rindou just chuckled, and gave Ran a playful nudge. “Don’t act surprised. You called it.”

You stare up at Izana who just grins down at you and you can't help but to flush from his gaze. You look back down at the ground and you mutter something so quiet that not even Izana could hear.

Izana came closer to you and you see him still smirking. He says something to the members of Tenjiku again, this time he was more direct. You heard him say "You better not try to fuck with her, you better not even think about laying a finger on her. She’s mine"

He emphasized the word 'mine' with a slight growl, making it clear he wouldn’t hesitate to protect you from anyone who dared to even consider hurting you. He lowered his hand to the small of your back and he grinned at you sweetly before leaning down and pressing another kiss to your lips.

"Is now a bad time to ask you to be my girl?" He says in a teasing tone before whispering in your ear "I've been waiting for a chance to ask and I doubt there will be a better time than now" He kissed you all over your face.

You just nodded and whispered yes over and over to him until he kissed your lips again and laughed with you. He smiled at you and held you close to him and said with the sweetest smile

"God, you're out of my league"

#izana kurokawa #izana x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #izana fluff

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doofus-and-dragons · 2 years ago

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Ok ok sorry for spam posting my account but these are thoughts I must get down before I forget them. I'll put them under the cut so you don't have to read my ramblings lol

But, if you want to see my interpretation of a scene that lasts maybe ten seconds at most, I'm your fella!

I love the scene right after Hiccup, Toothless, and Astrid get back from the nest. Astrid is ecstatic and ready to tell the Chief the minute they land. But Hoccup doesn't want to. Astrid of course gets upset by this (understandably so. This information could put an end to the war they've fought for generations and Hiccup wants to keep it a secret?) and starts getting a tad agressive as Astrid is want to do.

And what does Hiccup do?

He responds in the most serious manner we've seen from him for the whole movie. His face is completely cold, lacking any of the sympathy or warmth we've come to know from Hiccup. In fact, he looks angry that Astrid would even suggest he put Toothless' life on the line for this. And that alone tells a story. In the span of a few seconds, his face and tone set the building blocks for the rest of the franchise.

His heart is with the dragons.

And think about it, he has good reason to place his heart in those talons. His whole life, humans have done nothing but hurt him. He grew up being tormented by Dagur. He was bullied endlessly by his peers. The adults of his tribe pushed him aside because he was different, because he was small. His own father had a hard time understanding him because he wasn't an average viking.

Toothless was the first creature to look at him and not see a failure.

Once he trusted him, Toothless gave him endless love. He placed enough trust in Hiccup to let him fly with him, to help him. He accepted Hiccup helping him through one of his inventions. He accepted Hiccup.

Toothless was more than his first friend. He was the first one to see Hiccup as more than useless.

This tone is carried out through the franchise. Through the shows and into the sequel (excluding 3. Again, haven't seen it, probably not going to) we see Hiccup's desire to be useful shine through. He stutters around his friends, trying to defend the idea of his flight suit. He overworks himself to try and one up Viggo. He gets tense and awkward and explaining to Valka how he shot Toothless down, quickly rushing to defend himself because he doesn't know how she'll react. He's grown used to negative reactions. It's like second nature to rush out an explanation or a defense for his thoughts and actions.

But with Toothless? He's visibly at ease. When the flight suit doesn't quite work how it's suppose to (in both rtte and httyd2), he just laughs it off and shrugs, already thinking up ways to make the solo flying better. He understands the tone and body language of Toothless-so much so that he can pretty much tell what Toothless is saying and pary his own response to it.

Dont get me wrong, he loves his friends, and he loves his people! But you can't just erase years of trauma. Especially when you a)don't have access to therapy and b)push all your feelings to the way side (which, let's be honest, he does both. There are times in rtte where Astrid has to pry the answers out of him).

So yeah this was my thoughts on this scene. Am I projecting a little bit? Mayhaps. But what is a skrunkly for if not an outlet and tool to healing your own trauma/inner child?

#httyd rtte #httyd 2 #httyd #hiccup rtte #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #hiccup haddock #hiccup and toothless #toothless #astrid httyd #astrid hofferson #astrid

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royalreef · 2 years ago

Text

{ chaosmultiverse }

Faith hadn’t became alarmed until Miranda had stopped, Faith did not know Miranda well enough, let alone be cautious enough as a whole to notice. No she was always the last to realize things weren’t going how she thought they should.

But Miranda stopping was alarming, she had said too much hadn’t she? Should have let Miranda leave and investigate Hope some other way, not pressed, she would have cursed herself under her breath but she wasn’t sure if Miranda would hear it.

More alarming was the change in how Miranda held themself, how she spoke, that made Faith open her eyes wide out a mix of surprise and concern, for who she wasn’t sure.

“I- It was my own idea, I did tell the rest of Coven that I was going to talk to you but- well Joy didn’t want to ‘meddle’ in others affers and- well Hope told me to lay off it, she thought that I would just upset you though I wasn’t really honest when I told her I would talk to you-” Faith took a breath, she knew well to explain everything when spoken to in such a tone

“I just said to her I was going to see if I could find out why you had became upset, not that I was suspicious of her- I mean if I said that it might be enough to make there be a problem with her even if there wasn’t one before-” another breath, akin to one a swimmer would take.

“Anyway neither of them asked me to speak to you, and they said little when I mentioned it, I told no one else- though I suppose that The Goddess saw all of the conversations, but I can’t imagine that she would care about any of this, she has much bigger issues-” Another breath

“-I’m honestly sorry that this hasn’t seemed to help, I just- If Hope did do something, it would be my fault and I don’t have any way to be sure she’s being honest when she says she doesn’t know why you reacted to her, us in the coven can'tuse charms on each other, it’s apart of our pack with eachother so even if I got a chance to use a truth spell I couldn’t, not on her…”

Faith looked rather nervous, she held herself stiffly as she finished explaining, like how a solider might at attention.

“…If you have any doubts; I would agree to any spell or charm to bound me to the truth, though I wouldn’t know where to suggest getting a spell like that.”

Miranda did not reply. She didn’t say anything at all. All she did was stare ahead, all flared fins, all unmoving gaze. Listening. Listening with those earfins that could hear a conversation all the way on the other side of the school, that could hear sounds too far below or too far above what others could, that could hear Faith’s heart beating in her chest. Every word. Every gasp of breath, every tiny little waver in every single word, all were noted and documented and held in that untouchable gaze, that unspeakable dread.

When Faith finished, Miranda left her gasping. Left her there with that startling silence, stretching out into a torture of nothing, offering nothing in return save for the echo of Faith’s voice against the unthinking walls.

Other people had been here before. Other people had pleaded their cases to Crown Princess Miranda Vanderbilt’s back, had gasped and cried and crawled on the ground and begged for mercy at her heels. Faith was among the many, ghosts of Miranda’s duties, of this title that she held like executioner’s blade, and all the same she fell to the same fate.

Finally, she turned. A graceful thing, effortless, almost as if Miranda had not had to will herself to move at all but simply became one with the air, every twitching curve of muscle blending together into something sublime.

Her eyes were distant. Cold. Pinning Faith down like an insect on a board, cold steel held against her back, prying her apart with those pupils like the edge of creation. Miranda had the kind of unwavering gaze that let itself in, that held Faith captive beneath her brow and picked apart everything that she was. Away flicked her thoughts. A blade combed through her feelings. Everything was laid open and naked to those perfect, perfect eyes, eyes the color of a tropical sea that did not really exist, of a sun that did not beat down on Faith.

Even though she was so short, so small, so easy to tuck under someone’s arms and that she would let them run away with her — Miranda was looking down on Faith. Her head held high, so far above her, untouchable as infinity. There was simply no other way to be in the bare face of what she was, of what it truly meant to be nobility, to be someone so carefully crafted to this cause, who was an Empire given a body.

“Get down. On your knees. Kneel.”

This was a command. It could not be bargained with, it could not be pleaded with, it was so singular and so perfect that it could have almost functioned as the impulse of Faith’s nerves all the same.

Miranda stared down, and held Faith in the iron grip of her stare, and it made a little more sense why she was so feared in the Merkingdom. Why her people did not want to face her wrath, why they dreaded earning the ire of the Crown Princess. Why even the other royals were careful in what they said to her, in having to play around the edges so that she could not catch them, could not punish them in turn for what they did to her. They were as good as they were for a reason, and it was that those who were more obvious, who made plainer slip-ups, did not survive to pollute the rest of the population.

“You are not to ask me about this again. What happens between you and that one is beneath me, and I expect you to treat it like such. If you come to me about this again, if you bother myself and waste my duties to my kingdom upon such frivolities and nonsense and attempt to smudge dirt upon my reputation as Crown Princess — then you shall be reprimanded to the full degree of my rank.

Do I make myself clear, Faith Fernández?”

#Glory and Gore || IC #chaosmultiverse #(( and miranda goes into. Princess Mode. :)

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sophierequests · 2 years ago

Note

hi lovely! i have a fic idea! kaz brekker x reader where the prompt is

"take my hand"

"no"

"look im not trying to ask you to marry me, im trying to save your life"

take my hand and don't let go

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

A/N: Found the beginning of this in my drafts and I literally do not remember starting it?? So I decided to scrap some stuff and rewrite this fic, because I actually really love this prompt for Kaz! I intended on making this into a rather light-hearted fic, but my poor writer's brain sees the name Kaz Brekker and immediately switches to angst, so sorry for that </3 It has a fluffy ending though, so don't be afraid. And, of course, thank you for the request, lovely <333

Summary: A job gone wrong forces the reader to do something she had tried to avoid: touching Kaz.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, kinda Fluff???

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Blood, explosion, Kaz Brekker isn't able to express his emotions properly, who could've guessed that?

“They still haven’t given us the signal, Kaz.” You pressed, anxiously watching the man in front of you fidget with his lock-picking tool as he tried to avoid your gaze as best as he could.

At first, the job seemed to be relatively manageable. Inej and Jesper would climb into the warehouse first, surveying the area and notifying you once everything was deemed safe. After that, Kaz and you would pick the lock, steal the blueprints you needed for your next big heist, and leave. It was something you had done countless times before - always getting out successfully - so no one was really worried about it when you went in.

However, the whole situation just didn’t sit right with you. Upon entering the supposedly abandoned building, you were immediately starting to get suspicious of how clean it was. It was far too well taken care of for a warehouse without any real occupants since the previous shareholders had gone ‘bankrupt’. And even though all of that definitely rubbed you the wrong way, Kaz proceeded to make his way through the dingy hallways in the direction of the vault. You didn’t even try to get him to reconsider, he wouldn’t have listened anyway.

By now, the two others should have already cleared the entirety of the premise, causing Kaz to become a bit restless. His fingers were itching to finally get all of this over with. The blueprints were crucial for his next plan, so you fully understood why he needed this mission to work. But it genuinely unnerved you that he was ready to throw caution to the wind just because your friends diverted from the original plan.

“What are you doing?” He leaned down just enough to access the lock without putting too much pressure on his bad leg. The weather had been terribly frigid over the last few weeks, and it was taking a toll on his agility. It pained you to watch him put himself through this without being able to offer him help, but you knew that he would be too stubborn to actually accept it.

“What does it look like? Interpretive dance?” He sneered, removing his leather gloves before getting to work. His alabaster hands clashed with the rich black colour of his coat, making them look almost translucent. You watched him as he reached for the tool, pausing briefly to prepare his mind for the coldness of the metal. With a huffed breath, he brought it up to the lock, cautiously manoeuvring the tip around inside the mechanism. You didn’t know why he had such a severe aversion to touch - one where he couldn’t even bear to be touched by cold materials or objects - but you were well aware that it had to have been something pretty traumatic for him to react this way, meaning that you wouldn’t pry.

“Inej and Jesper haven’t told us that everything is clear, you can’t just ignore your own orders!” You hissed, giving him an exasperated glare that could have just as well been a carbon copy of his own, whenever he had to deal with Jesper’s antics.

“My orders are the only orders I can disregard without a guilty conscience.”

“Oh please, you and having a guilty conscience? I thought you weren’t one for fairytal-” The sentence was harshly cut off by yells echoing from the corridor adjacent to the one you were in. You turned your head, whilst Kaz was still focused on picking the lock.

“Kaz! Y/N! Don’t!” Jesper yelled as he finally appeared in your line of sight. When he saw the situation you were in, his already frantic eyes grew even wider, a look of horror spreading all over his face.

“Jesper, what is-”

“Explosives!” The words didn’t even fully leave his mouth as the distinct click of the lock forced your eyes back towards Kaz. He only had time to shout for both of you to run before a deafening bang sounded from behind the door. Only Jesper was still able to follow his command. You were still wrapping your head around the situation when a sharp blow lifted you off your feet with brutal force.

Your body hit the concrete ground with a firm thud, rendering you unable to move for a few moments after the impact. Everything around you was spinning, and you felt as if you had just lost the majority of your ability to hear, but staying on the ground wasn’t an option. The distinct metallic smell of an explosive-induced fire travelled through the dust-filled air, as you forced yourself to sit up. You could barely make out the silhouettes and shapes of the objects around you as you watched the fire crawl out of the room. If you didn’t leave now, you would be the next thing to succumb to its wrath.

Kaz.

The thought shot into your mind like the top of an arrow hitting a bullseye. Your distorted sight and slight dizziness limited your ability to spot him greatly, but you wouldn’t leave him here to die.

A violent cough caught your attention, and you saw the hunched-over form of Kaz futilely trying to sit up. Since he had been so close to the epicentre of the explosion, the sheer power of the blow had thrown him right against the rough wall opposite the door. You could recognize scratches and bruises all over his face as his eyes hectically peered through the rubble around him.

“Kaz!” You called out, wobbly dashing towards him. His head snapped around to face you, an emotion akin to relief flashing over his features. He tried to push himself up, at least to get into a sitting position, but his whole body ached as he attempted to do so. It was only then that both of you noticed the torn-up fabric of his trousers revealing a deep gash on the side of his leg. His good leg. “This looks bad.”

“Go.” He let out a laboured breath, as he let his back rest against the wall.

“And leave you here to die? We both know I won’t do that.” You thankfully managed to spot his cane, bringing it over to him as quickly as you could. Kneeling down next to him, you tried to assess the damage with weary eyes.

“Y/N, that wasn’t a request. Go.” The harsh tone of his voice didn’t faze you anymore. He might be a stubborn bastard, but even he didn’t deserve to meet his end in a filthy burning warehouse.

“If you think that I’ll start listening to you know, you are greatly mistaken.”

“I won’t be able to walk.” He hissed in pain as he finally managed to sit up properly. If it had been anyone else but Kaz Brekker, you wouldn’t even have thought twice about pulling him to his feet and dragging him outside. But you couldn’t do that to him.

“Take my hand.” You hoisted yourself up to your feet again, stretching out your hand for him to take. This was risky, however, you needed to do something.

“No.” His lips were pressed into a thin line as he looked up at you, apprehension written all over his face.

“Kaz, for Saints’ sake! Look, I’m not trying to ask you to marry me, I’m trying to save your life!” This attempt at humour wasn’t much appreciated.

“I can’t.” His gaze wandered to his hands. His bare hands. He didn’t have his gloves. Shit, this only managed to get worse. You really didn’t want to do this.

“Listen, I can’t - and won’t - force you to do anything.” Your previously demanding voice grew a bit softer as you gave him one last chance. “I know that this is going to be really uncomfortable for you, but we have to leave. I’ll do whatever you tell me if that means that you’ll agree to let me help you.”

“Okay.” You watched the way his hand shook as he reached for yours. With a surprisingly tight grip, he held onto it, allowing you to pull him to his feet.

Immediately upon standing up, an intense pang of pain shot through his legs and he began to stumble forward, his body threatening to give in again. Your mind went into overdrive as you lunged forward, hastily putting an arm under his shoulder and letting him cling to yours.

His heart began to race when he realized the situation he was in. His bare hands had been on your bare hands and now there were only two layers of clothes separating your skin. You were close. Way too close for him to function properly. The rising waters mixed with the stinging ache rushing through his legs made him want to vomit.

“Kaz.” Your voice pulled him out of his stupor briefly, giving him enough distraction to keep him from pushing you away and having a panic attack right then and there. “We need to move. Please, tell me what to do.”

“Keep talking.” He shifted his weight to partially lean on his cane, reducing the pressure he had put on you. “Distract me.”

The cracking of the fire behind you made the urgency you felt prior to this return. You managed to give him a brief nod before carefully beginning to inch forward. One of your arms supported his back, while the other rested on his chest to keep him from falling forward. From where your hand was situated, you could basically feel his heart thud against his ribcage, his rapid breathing only underlining the panic brewing inside him.

“Do you remember that one week two months ago? When all of your heist plans went missing and you never figured out who took them, even after they returned the week after?” You had to distract him. You had to keep talking.

“Yes?”

“I hid them.” It was a stupid thing to bring up. It didn’t have any correlation to what was happening right now, but it seemed to get him to focus on something else than the current situation.

“What?” The words almost came out as a chuckle, but you weren’t sure whether that was because he genuinely found it entertaining, or because the absurdity of the situation beat him to it.

“You were ill. You had a fever.” Kaz almost froze when he heard that. It was true. He had been ill that week - probably one of the worst fevers he had since the plague. But he never told anyone. He even made sure to lock his window to stop Inej from suddenly appearing. Initially, he had intended to retreat into his office, and just continue to work on some upcoming heist plans. However, one day after breakfast, all of the plans were gone, and no one seemed to know a thing. Not even a thorough search through the Slat made them reappear. Eventually, he just decided to give you the week off for ‘recreational activities after an especially tiring heist’. Lo and behold, after his fever had set again, the plans returned to his desk again - neatly stacked and sorted. “I hid them so you could rest. I knew what you were trying to do, and I didn’t want you to overwork yourself just to keep anyone from being made aware that you can get sick too.”

Ask her why.

The questions bubbled inside his head. Why would you go out of your way to force him to rest? Why did you even care about his well-being enough to do something like that?

“Why?” He rasped out, becoming even more aware of the way his heart raged against its restraints.

“I suppose for the same reason why I’m not letting you stay here and die.” That statement was a bit too honest for your liking, and Kaz seemed to have picked up on it. However, before he could press the matter further, a sudden wave of nausea and vertigo overcame him. The waves had ultimately managed to pull him under.

And without being able to take another step, his legs buckled, the world around him fading into black. The only thing you could do was to hold onto him as he fell, only scarcely breaking the fall before his limp body hit the ground. He had fainted.

The next time he woke up he wasn’t in the warehouse anymore. He was at the Slat. In his own room. In his own bed. It seemed to be late - the darkness engulfing him was a pretty strong base for that thesis. The only source of light that had even allowed him to recognize where he was, came from somewhere beside him. He didn’t bother to look where it was coming from, nor did he have the energy to turn his head.

Every still-intact muscle screamed at him, but he felt a strong urge to sit up. His efforts were futile though. A hand quickly hovered above his chest, not touching him, but present enough to get him to abandon his task.

“Don’t.” Kaz could feel his entire body relax when he heard your voice. He had half-heartedly expected it to be Nina, or maybe even Jesper, there to scold him for being so foolish. Having you here was way preferable. “Don’t try to sit up. You need to rest. And if Nina sees that I allowed you to sit up, she’ll probably stop my heart. Or yours. Or both of our hearts if she’s feeling especially murderous.”

His head fell back on his pillow, angling it a little to the side to take a better look at you and also finding the lamp that just barely illuminated the corner of his room. You sat right next to his bed, some novel resting idly in your lap as you gave him a comforting smile. And even though he still felt as if he had been run over by a carriage going full speed, he couldn’t help the ghost of a smirk rush over his lips.

“What happened?” The question had been burning holes in his head since the bomb went off. He had a rough idea, but the details were rather blurry.

“It was a trap. Dime Lions. They paid our informant to lure us right into their trap. Apparently, Inej found a stack of letters in the not-so-abandoned office, but Jesper was too late to tell us.” You recited what they told you after dragging Kaz back to the Slat. You didn’t remember every single detail, but this amount of information would suffice for now.

“I should have waited.” Kaz groaned, regret flooding his mind as he remembered the events of the day prior. Had he only waited a little while longer…

“Hey,” You reached forward, resting your hand just mere inches away from his. “You couldn’t have known. We all made it out alive, so you have nothing to blame yourself for.”

“That doesn’t rectif-”

“Kaz.” He only sighed in response to your warning glare.

“Fine.”

“I think I should go down and tell Nina that you’re awake. She wanted to take another look at your leg once you’re conscious again.” You were just about to stand up when Kaz seized the hand close to his. His touch was featherlight, - not at all comparable to the tight grip he had on it a day earlier - but it was still there.

“I knew that it was you.” He croaked out, his eyes fixed on yours as if you were about to vanish once he averted them.

“That I was what?” You replied perplexed, your brain still trying to process the fact that he was willingly touching you right now.

“That you were the person who stole the heist plans. I didn’t know your reasoning, but I knew that it was you.”

“You knew? Why didn’t you say anything? If it had been Jesper, you would’ve ripped him to shreds?”

A pause.

He knew exactly why he didn’t confront you about it. He just couldn’t tell you. At least not yet.

“I suppose for the same reason I wanted you to leave the warehouse without me.” His hand gave yours a brief squeeze before eventually letting go. Even though he didn’t say it out loud, the knowing smile that began to settle on your face told him that you knew.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Kaz Brekker: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @juneberrie @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkers-desigirl @fall-writes

#kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows

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freuleinanna · 2 years ago

Text

tracked down

Characters: Travis Hackett, reader Chosen ending: The were!Hacketts are dead, the counselors gang might as well have lived Short summary: You were the extra counselor that summer, so you participated in the fun campy werewolf activities, and not without consequences. Silly something that jumped to my mind bc who wouldn't want Travis to track them down Words count: 1081

Tags: @sadclowncat (I'm SO sorry for mistag earlier!!), @sera-wonderland, @b33barlowsstuff, @imperfectjam (also, tagging those who wanted something w/ our man Travis or Travis x reader, all future stuff will be at (# anna writes the quarry))

(the gif is just to show the character, it's not this exact scene, but the message seems right tho)

You took one look at the badge – and bolted. Within a split of a second some regret managed to sink through. You should’ve made a goddamn poker face, but now it was too late for that. Now you just had to run.

The cop reacted like any good cop should, by starting the chase. Unlike any good cop, he didn’t shout any warnings, he just straight-up sprinted behind you. Like a Terminator. Unsurprisingly, being the 1st film Sarah Connor sucked ass. Only she lived to see a second film, and then some. You might not have this luxury.

The cop tackled you near the window while you were trying to jerk it open.

‘Going somewhere, haunts&curses2573?’

Your whole body froze for a moment. He knew. His voice wasn’t smug, though, just edgy. Tired, even. The cop held you face down on the floor but seemed to try not to hurt you. You held your head up as best you could.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ ‘Are you gonna run if I let you go?’ ‘What the fuck do you want?’ ‘Are you?!’ ‘I know my rights, okay?!’ now you were really panicking. ‘I know my fucking rights!’ ‘DO YOU WANNA TALK LIKE ADULTS OR DO I CUFF YOU TO A RADIATOR?!’ ‘GET THE FUCK OFF ME!’

You heard a grunt, then some cursing under the breath.

‘Cuffs it is, then.’

You felt the metal on your skin, and next thing you knew, you were facing the room, with the cuff link gleefully clanking against the radiator pipe and the cop carefully moved to a safe, unkickable distance. That’s the first time you saw him properly. Not exactly young, with a shade of stubble on the cheeks and chin. Slightly tilting his head to the side. He squatted, keeping his eyes on your level. Something about his whole figure was just… unnerving.

‘Please,’ your throat was suddenly parched and the voice came out harsh, ‘please … I don’t know what you want from me, okay?’

A slight annoyed eye-roll followed.

‘Yeah, that’s why you ran. Uh-huh.’ ‘I… I…’ ‘Quit the damn tune, Y/L/N’ he cut you off, slightly pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘I’ve had an awful coupl’a months chasing you down, but unlike you, I can do my job right.’

You yanked the cuff slightly, not actually hoping for anything. And nothing happened. What a surprise. You yanked some more just out of spite.

‘Happy now?’ cold, calm voice didn’t match the appearance one bit, but perfectly matched the prying eyes. ‘Wanna do some more running?’

You shook your head, drawing your legs closer to yourself.

‘Good, ‘cause you’re gonna SIT YOUR ASS DOWN AND LISTEN!’ you jerked and the sudden rise of the voice. The cop… really, he looked irritated. And irritated cops are never a good story. Terminator 2 covered that as well. ‘Am I clear?’

You nodded. He sighed sympathetically.

‘Look, kid. My name is Travis Hackett,’ a meaningful pause. ‘Like the Hackett’s Quarry.’

And then it came together. Of course. Of-fucking-course. He was studying you, as if making sure you won’t suddenly decide to chew your arm off and run. You had half a heart to do just that.

‘…shit,’ that was all you could say. Not very eloquent, but very true. ‘Exactly,’ the cop nodded generously. ‘You’ve fucked up big time.’ ‘I didn’t do any-’ ‘Ah,’ he stopped you with a motion of his hand. ‘I suggest you shut up and really don’t piss me off now, because I really don’t wanna take out my gun. Especially, since it’s loaded with silver.’

Bastard knew it right away, from your eyes. Read your face like a note on the fridge. The uneasy tug pulled in your stomach. You were fucked. Absolutely fucked in a totally non-unfuckable goddamn way, but the stupid kid inside you still tried to wiggle their way out.

‘W-what does silver hav--’ ‘Did I not just say to NOT PISS ME OFF?!’

That’s what, a third strike? Thoughts ran around your brain in a sort of dancing fever. There was no way out for you. The only way was through, and it could just be that on the other side of the tunnel you’d be met by a silver bullet. Not on the full moon, but still… The Hackett cop seemed to have calmed down a notch. His brother, you remembered. His brother and the kids. They died that night. It’s a wonder the silver bullet didn’t come first. You suddenly felt really cold.

‘What do you want?’ you asked flatly. Trevor Hackett, or whatever his name was, was kind of staring you down. Full-on drama. ‘You figured it out, didn’t you, Y/N? When the moon came and you turned, you figured it out,’ he gave you a moment to chime in, and when you didn’t, finished darkly with a disapproving shake of the head. ‘The White Wolf is still alive. So you went and sent all those trinkets you found out there to that goddamn podcast, didn’t you? What were you hoping for? A crowd of werewolf-hunters who’d put him down for you?’

He was surprisingly accurate, that Trampy-whatever. Travis, it struck you, the name was Travis. Probably should remember that for later, if that later ever comes. It didn’t really seem like it, though.

‘That… was the plan, yeah,’ you mumbled awkwardly. ‘Well, congrats, mastermind. You created a fucking pilgrim path for every dumbass who ever wanted to snoop around and smell werewolf shit.’

His voice was dripping with sarcasm. A bit more, and the floor beneath would be a goner, burnt right down to the basement. That would’ve been fucking hilarious, only it wasn’t anywhere near funny.

‘Do you want to see the body count? Maybe the local town reports on rabid dogs? Hmm?’ ‘Alright, I get it, I fucked up,’ you snarked, not being able to take the blame-pushing anymore. ‘So what, you dragged your ass out here to shoot me? Cover for your fucked-up family once again? What the fuck do you want?’

The cop’s face changed. You didn’t understand how, exactly. It took you a few moments to catch up, but you got it just as he finished saying that next words. Then it beamed on you. He didn’t look angry anymore. He seemed regretful. As if he was sorry for something he was about to do.

‘Full moon’s in 10 days. I’m sorry, kid. I’m really sorry, but I’m gonna need your help to end this.’

#i promise i'm gonna do sth for other characters as well i got a few ideas!!#it's just the creepy cop got me #the quarry #the quarry spoilers #the quarry game #travis hackett #travis hackett x reader #travis x reader #travis hackett fics #anna writes the quarry #something i wrote

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nightowlwriting · 3 years ago

Text

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed�� Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

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angsty-omi · 4 years ago

Text

you get jealous of their manager

suna rintarou; sakusa kiyoomi

angst to fluff, hurt/comfort.

suna rintarou

when rin told you about the new manager, you didn’t expect her to be blonde, curvy, and absolutely gorgeous. honestly, just looking at her made you insecure. the way all the boys gawked at her everytime she walked by. you didn’t care about the boys though, you only cared about a boy, your boyfriend rin. she’s with him longer than he’s with you. practices take up most of his day, so you only saw him once he got to your shared apartment where he was too tired to do anything that exterted energy. to be fair, you were fine just staying in, but imagining him with her during practices made you uncomfortable.

it was even worse when he’d go out to dinner with the team and her. you couldn’t remember the last time he’d even ask you on a date. you hated the way he stopped trying once you started dating. starting to reach the AMs when you called him.

“y/n?” his slurred tone showed that he was drunk.

“suna? where are you? it’s almost 12 am.” you scolded. how could you not? he’s drunk and with a girl that you were very envious of.

“first of all, can you chill? i literally told you that i’d be out with the boys, i don’t understand why you’re getting so upset,”

“upset? you’re literally out with a girl who’s very attarctive” you frustrated.

“oh i see what this is now, you’re jealous and you don’t trust me.”

“it’s not a matter of trust, it’s just i fe-feel uncomfortable and i oh i don’t know wanted to talk about it?” you started to raise your voice. the attempt to set a boundary has failed, and rather was replaced with you being the enemy.

“she’s my friend y/n, get over it because you’ll be seeing a lot more of her,” rin hissed.

“i’m not telling you who you can be friends with or not, but you have to understand where i’m coming from” you murmured.

“just leave me alone, i can be friends with whoever i want, and the last thing i’m going to do is let a bitch dictate that.” suna argued loudly.

it was followed up by silence, with a girl voice cutting in, “rin-rin let’s do this song together!” in a high pitch squeal caught the mic.

“oh so you’re rin rin now huh? i can’t be surprised considering how much time you spend with her!”

“well maybe i like hanging out with her. did you ever think of that y/n? it’s nice to have someone who wouldn’t nag or bitch about me, she doesn’t pry for me to open up,” he attempted to justify his actions.

“okay fine then, if she’s soooo perfect than just date her” words just started spilling out of your brain, and it was too late to take it back.

“maybe i will!” he roared. after he sunk in what he was saying, he followed up with “w-wait i didn’t mea-” trying to save his relationship.

“do whatever you want suna, whether you’re with her or not it’s not my problem anymore, i’m done.” you ended the call, tears freely flowing down your face.

you couldn’t sleep that night. pathetically, you’d hope that suna would at least give you a call back, or any sign that he still cared for you. but he didn’t, and you assumed that was your answer. you would reevaluate the relationship after a good nights sleep on the couch. you couldn’t sleep on the bed due to suna’s lingering scent.

when 4am rolled around, the door opened as quietly as possible. suna assumed that you were asleep in bed, and was prepared to join you. when he walked in the bedroom and saw the bed still made, he panicked. did you really leave? were you actually done with the relationship? he checked everywhere, the bathroom, kitchen, the basement, and not the most obvious place ever. he dialed your phone, and heard loud ringing from the living room. he slapped his forehead in stupidity and made his way over to you. his heart broke at the sight. the way you tried to fit your body with the throw blanket, unaware that you were shivering at the cold. your face was also pale, with dried tears on them. you looked so broken and so drained. immediately, suna carried you off the couch bridal style, and tucked you into the soft king sized bed. he then, moved onto his side and slid under the sheets. it’s only when he grabs your waist is when he feels safe enough to sleep.

five hours later, you awake with dried tears still in your eyes. you wiped them with your arm, and felt weight around your waist. once your eyes were cleared, it was suna. you let yourself comfort in his warmth for just a bit more, knowing that there’s a huge argument to come.

“suna we can’t just not talk about this,” you whispered into his ear, knowing he was awake. he hid in the crook of your neck, “i’m sorry. i’m so so sorry, please take me back.”

“i can’t just accept your apology blindly, we have to set boundaries or else we’ll never move forward.” you sighed while tracing circles on his bare chest.

“i’ll never even look at her again,” his face deadpanned. your laugh vibrated against his chest, “that’s not needed, it’s not really her fault anyways. how about, we spend more time on dates and devote days for each other?”

“anything, princess.”

sakusa kiyoomi

sakusa hated physical touch, the spread of germs with a single handshake grossed him out. that’s why he built a cold exterior to prevent many from getting close. however, when he met you, you happened to be the exception and you took pride in the fact that he was only comfortable with you. he’ll never admit it to you though, and claims he only ‘endures’ your hugs. although, you knew your limit, you would never show affection in front of people. if there’s one thing sakusa hates, it’s PDA.

so you couldn’t really blame the new cute manager for flirting with him, because it seemed like he was single. listen, you trusted sakusa with your whole heart, but you just wanted to see how he would react with a girl flirting with him.

you hid behind the door, eavesdropping behind the door.

“sakusa-senpai, can you please help me up?” the cute manger whined.

“can you not get up yourself?” sakusa groaned.

“no i think i twisted something,” as a girl, you knew exactly what she was doing and her execution was poor. you rolled your eyes, assuming sakusa too would know what she was doing.

but he didn’t.

“thank you, sakusa-senpai!” she squealed, and then what you can assume, she hugged him. because then it caught him by suprise, and they both fell together, with her on top of him. you didn’t hear him scolding her, rather he was laughing. he was happy with her presence when he wouldn’t even physically show it with you. you decided to just walk in and stop this.

amidst of their laughter, both heads looked up at you. “sakusa, don’t you have to get home soon?” with an eyebrow raised.

“uh actually sakusa-senpai it’s getting dark, mind if you could walk me home?” she babbled.

“fine, y/n you can walk yourself right?” he said casually, while packing up his things.

“y-yeah i guess” you stammered.

on your walk home, you were reevaluating what just happened. no longer did you feel special anymore. your brain started to overthink itself, why did they look better as a couple? and why was he so relaxed around her? was i just not the right person? has he found his true love? all these scenarios made you start to tear up. you were in love with the germaphobic man, for god sakes.

when you got the shared apartment, you immediately took a shower, knowing that sakusa was going to nag you anyways when you got home.

then, you started on dinner and chopping up some vegetables when you heard the door open. he nodded at you, acknowledging your presence and was waiting for the hug you gave him everytime he came home. but you didn’t, and he awkwardly just stood there for good minute or two. to your suprise, he was the first one to make the move. he wrapped his arms behind you and resting his head on your neck. immediately, you shrugged him off.

he furrowed his eyebrows, “is there something wrong?”

“i don’t know, is there something wrong?” you repeated his question.

“i wouldn’t know, that’s why i asked.” he bellowed.

you put the knife down and faced him, “you know i love the double standard of how i have to shower before i get to touch you, but that whore gets to touch you whenever,” you ranted.

“our new manager? you can’t be serious. we fell, it was an accident.”

“maybe you thought it was, but i know what she was doing because i, too am a girl. if you guys just ‘fell’ why did it take so long for you to get back up? why’d you let her touch you for so long?” you questioned.

“i wasn’t thinking about it, not everything i do in life is rotated around germs-”

“except when it’s with me” your voice cracked. “right? it’s when it’s with me, that must be it. that’s why you never show any affection, but it’s okay for you because you’ve gotten tons from me and her!” you raved.

he tried to wrap his around you, but you moved out the way.

“don’t touch me with that whore’s filth,” you muttered, turning off the burner and stomped to your shared bedroom, slamming the door. your insecurities were roaring on the inside. sakusa chose to sleep on the couch, thinking you needed space. but, that was the least thing you wanted. you wanted him to beg, or to at least apologize.

over the following days, you didn’t wait for him outside of practice. in fact, the only time he saw you was in the morning before classes and at night when you left leftovers for him in the kitchen. after the argument, he pushed everyone away, especially with the new manager. he only wanted one person’s touch, yours. and to achieve that, he had to put in some effort. that night when he got home, he went straight to the shower. you assumed it was just a normal silent treatment day, so you went to bed scrolling.

you felt the weight on the other side of the bed. knowing who it was, you continued to aimlessly scroll on tiktok. sakusa abruptly grabbed your waist and coddled you, drowning you in pecks all around your face.

“mh.. sakus.. sa.. mh..” continuously getting cut off with his cute pecks on your lips. you decided to let go of the whole manager situation, and let yourself to just be happy. you wrapped your arms around his neck and put him even closer to you. he then pulled away and you dramatically groaned.

putting his face close to yours, “i love you y/n l/n.” before continuing.

a/n: if you like this series please request some characters you’d like to see!

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #sakusa angst #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #suna x reader #suna imagines #suna x y/n #suna angst

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saeyoungchoismaid · 4 years ago

Text

The brothers’ reaction to MC wearing an occult symbol

Genre: angst?, fluff Warnings: Belphie’s has earlier lesson spoilers. Y’all know the one A/N: Writing Satan’s reminds me that I want to write hcs or fics where the whole demon thing is more realistic. Ya know like they kill people and that sort of thing but n e ways-

Lucifer:

it only took him a second to get a weird vibe from you

well, not actually you but an energy coming from you

once he gets close enough to you, he starts to feel his skin crawl

he looks over your being before spotting a hidden chain disappearing into your shirt

“May I?” he asks, bringing his hand close to your neck and pointing at your hidden necklace

you look down in confusion before realizing what he’s referring to

“Oh. Uh, yeah, sure,” you reply confusedly but agree nonetheless

he hesitates for only a second before grasping the necklace and pulling it up

he clenches his jaw when the chain starts to burn him, his fingers quickly releasing it once the hidden pendant is on the outside of your shirt

your eyes widen in shock when you see his red fingers pull away from your neck, a frown coming to your face

“Ah, just as I thought,” he says softly, staring down at your chest

you flush and look down, spotting your necklace for everyone to see

“I’m not sure if you know this or not but that pendant is actually an occult symbol. It wards off demons and burns them when they touch it. It’s honestly probably a good idea to wear it until everyone gets used to your presence,” he informs before taking a step away from you

you gently pick it up between your fingers, staring down at it with a frown

“Oh, okay,” you say softly

you didn’t like the thought of hurting anyone but he has a point. They’ve already explained to you that not all demons are friendly with humans, so some might try to attack you

guess this pendant will be useful during your stay

(don’t worry. You eventually take it off for Mr. Grumpy Pants)

Mammon:

he always gets uncomfortable being too close to you but not for the reasons you think

this man is a SIMP, okay?

he wants to be near you 24/7 but physically finds it hard to do so

it takes him a while to figure out why though

one day, you wear a low-cut shirt and there lays a necklace around your neck

of course, this man looks STRAIGHT at your chest because woughnwgwg exposed skin

but then he notices the necklace

do you always wear that?

“Heya, (Y/n). Do ya, uh, always wear that necklace?” he asks you after pondering on it for a while

it would make sense as to why his skin always crawls and why he feels like he always has an itch he just can’t scratch

you look down at the necklace and smile, picking it up between your delicate fingers

“Huh? Oh, yeah. It came with a Halloween costume I wore last year and I guess I liked it enough to always wear it,” you reply as you look down at it before letting it go

he grunts and stares at it, trying to make it combust with his eyes alone

“Do you think you could stop wearing it?” he asks softly

this makes your eyes widen, a small pout gracing your smooth lips

“What? Why? Do you not like it?” you ask quietly, disappointment filling your tone

and, of course, Mammon panics

“What? No! Well, kinda. Not for the reason ya think though! It’s jus that it’s an occult symbol, meaning it’s used to keep demons away,” he sputters out before eventually getting to his point

at this, your face becomes crestfallen

“Oh. That’s why you guys always seem so nervous and uncomfortable around me...” you mumble

before he can comfort you, you take it off and move to throw it away

“I won’t ever wear it again then,” you promise with a warm smile

Levi:

he knew something was off about you but he wasn’t sure what it was until the TSL competition

just like the others, he felt itchy and maybe even a little sick when he got too close to you

but you were so nice! and pretty! and smart!

he couldn’t help wanting to get to know you better

when the TSL competition happened though, he ended up being blinded by jealousy and attacked you

he got close enough to grab you by your shirt

the thing is, your necklace flew out of your shirt when he tugged you forward and it fell across his hand

he hisses and pulls away from you, looking down at the red lines now adorning his skin

this calms him down a bit surprisingly

you, on the other hand, were still freaking out

“I’m sorry! What just happened? Are you okay?” you ask as you gently cradle his injured hand

he stares at you in confusion before it converts to awe

he just attacked you and you’re still worried about him

yeah, he’s in love

when he doesn’t reply, Lucifer steps in

“Your necklace caused the burn. It’s an occult symbol, meaning it wards demons away. Guess it worked in your favor just now.”

“I’m sorry,” Levi says quickly after Lucifer is done talking

he then swears that you won’t need to wear it around him anymore, feeling guilty for attacking you

Satan:

this smart demon knew what he was feeling right away

he’s read enough books to know that you probably have some sort of occult symbol on you somewhere

he doesn’t bring it up though

he’d rather hangout around you and feel his skin crawl and for his skin to go ice cold than to have you take it off and risk you getting in danger with other demons

not that he’d let that happen. He’d skin someone alive before letting them close enough to hurt you

once you two start getting closer though, you notice that if you try to hold his hand or to cuddle into him on the couch while watching a movie, he flinches away from you

it breaks your heart, really

which he instantly notices and realizes he has to talk to you about before he loses you

“Darling, can I see you in my room for a moment?” Satan calls to you as you walk past his room, your heart skipping a beat as the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease

once you enter, he asks that you close his door, which causes you to grow nervous and excited at the same time

once the door is closed, he starts to explain the whole situation to you

he can’t even finish his explanation before you’re ripping it off your neck and throwing it away into his trash bin

he chuckles as he stands, meeting you by his desk where you threw the necklace away

he bends over to take it out of the trash, grunting when the necklace burns him

before he can hand it back to you, you snatch it out of his hand

“Why would you do that?” you cry in despair, your free hand cradling his injured one

he smiles at you and squeezes your hand while his free hand comes up to bring your head up

“Because I still want you to wear it when you go out. It would just be nice to be closer to you without it, my love,” he coos, making you gulp at how close he is to you

you nod your head though and place it in your pocket, noticing the goosebumps covering his arms

“I’ll go put it away in my room and then we can cuddle,” you declare

Asmo:

bruh

he notices it right away because of course he tries getting close to you right away

he gets a foot away from you and that’s when he feels it

he pouts as he stops his prowl towards you, trying to shake off the feeling of unease and nervousness

which is definitely a new feeling for him

he backs away from you and finds that those odd feelings are slowly fading away from his body

weird

he doesn’t really understand what it is until much later

he kept his distance but still flirted like a madman

which apparently worked since you liked him

so, when he decides to ignore the weird feeling and goes to kiss you one day, his hands gently rest on the side of your neck as he kisses you

well, he didn’t actually get to kiss you seeing as the chain burns his hands and he pulls away with a sharp gasp

you both stare down at his red hands in silence, trying to process what just happened

before you can even react, one of his hands come back to your neck and snaps your necklace off of you

“Asmo!” you screech, going to pull it out of his grip when he throws it across the room

as soon as it’s out of his hand, his hands gently clasp your cheeks before smashing his lips to yours

after a spicy makeout session, he briefly explains what your necklace was before going back to kissing you

Beel:

my poor baby didn’t understand what was going on 🥺

he’d go to give you a hug or offer you some food and found it impossible to be close to you

it upset him immensely

my mans likes to show his affection physically AND verbally like a legend

but he can’t get closer than a foot to you before he starts to feel a different kind of pit in his stomach

it wasn’t until you came to one of his games that it all became clear what was going on

he made the final point needed to win the game, all of his teammates knocking against his helmet and lightly shoving him

when you came over though, they parted like the red sea for you

you squeezed Beel into a hug and it felt perfect other than the weird feeling that comes over him

he moves to wrap his arms around your shoulders, his body suddenly jolting away from yours

your eyes widen at him, your heart lurching up in your throat

did you make him uncomfortable? But it seemed like he was going to hug you back?

he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the field and away from prying eyes

you try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy from his hand holding yours

once you two are alone, he lets you go, which causes the butterflies to instantly die

“(Y/n), do you think you could get rid of your necklace?” he asks nervously

he’s afraid that he’s being too selfish by asking this of you

your brows knit together in confusion, looking down at your necklace that you’ve been wearing for a couple of months now

“What? Why? Do you not like it?” you ask worriedly, bringing your hands up to touch it

he explains what happens to him when he gets near it, his eyes shining with sadness

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so? Of course I can take it off,” you say as you go ahead and slip it off and place it in your pocket

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he reassures

“I want to,” you reassure right back

Belphie:

so yeah, your necklace ended up saving your life

when Belphie was released and turned out to be deceiving you this whole time, things went downwards really quickly

when he moved to choke you, your necklace burned his hands

he pulled away in shock, giving his brothers time to jump in and save the day

once everything was sorted out and he apologized, you two slowly became friends

he resented what he did and that necklace of yours

he’s sure that after what he did, you wouldn’t trust him enough to take off your necklace

and for a while, it was true

you would tense up around him, make excuses to leave, etc.

once you two got past that “hey, sorry I tried to kill you” stage though, things started smoothing out

when you two started to like each other though, he hated that necklace even more

it got to a point where he wanted to cuddle and kiss you so bad but he didn’t have the confidence to ask you to take off the pendant

luckily for him though, you took it off yourself

“Where’s your necklace?” he asks curiously when you come up to hug him, his body instantly sensing the difference

“I wanted to be able to hold you like this without you looking like you wanted to die,” you tease half playfully

he blushes as he wraps his arms around you

he never realized how transparent he was until now

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joanquill · 3 years ago

Text

Sleepless Night

One stressful night, your fight with Albert almost led to him completely losing you.

Albert James Moriarty

Tag/s: Heavy Angst but with Fluff Ending Warning/s: Kidnapping, Torture, Profanity

“(Y/N), please… I don’t have time for this,” Albert muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You frowned at this but kept your stand.

You two were away on what's supposed to be a vacation, but the MI6 kept calling, and Albert couldn't stay in his office too long.

“Albert, you need to rest. You’ve been overworking yourself,” you pleaded again, your voice softer and gentler as you reached out to him.

“When you do sleep, it’s only for three hours at most! I rarely see you anymore,” you continued as you stepped closer to him.

He raised his hand, making you stop as he let out another sigh.

“Just… I can take care of my own, okay? I don’t need you to-!” he stopped himself when he noticed the raise of his voice and your surprised expression.

“… Just… leave.” he looked away from you, taking another file from his desk.

Your heart twisted sadly at his words, but you silently nodded, not wanting to start a fight in the middle of the night.

“All right…” you muttered, walking out of his office.

You let out a sigh as you walked into your shared hotel bedroom, but your thoughts were interrupted when you noticed an open window.

You raised a brow as you looked around, seeing broken glass on the floor.

You let out a gasp, and before you could react, someone grabbed you from behind, shoving a rag onto your face.

You tried to scream and kick him off, but the drug quickly got to you.

“Wake up,”

A bucket of cold water suddenly washed over you, making you jump.

You looked around quickly, noticing you were in some abandoned warehouse with strangers.

“Who the hell are you?” you snarled, feeling the rope scratch your wrists and ankles.

“I wouldn’t be so bad-tempered if I were you,” one of them scoffed, making you glare at him.

He scowled at you and pulled you by the hair, making your face closer to him.

“Where the hell are the Moriartys living at?” he demanded, pulling you harshly.

You gritted your teeth and spat on his face, making him pull back with a groan of disgust.

“As if I’d ever tell you asshats,” you growled, earning a punch to the gut.

“All right… You wanna do it the hard way then,”

Albert let out a relieved sigh, finally finished his work, and can now cuddle with you in bed.

As he left his office, guilt rushed through him as he remembered how he talked to you earlier this evening.

Albert quickly made his way to the bedroom to apologize but immediately noticed you were missing.

“(Y/N)?” he called out, walking around the room and seeing the broken glass and open window.

His heart sank as the worst possible situations came flooding through his mind.

‘No…!’ he rushes to the telephone, dialing the manor’s number as he anxiously waits for someone to pick it up.

“You’re quite the fighter, aren’t you?” the leader smirked, looking down at your shaking figure as you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Fuck off…” you cursed, your breaths becoming ragged as your throat kept hurting.

As they continued to try to pry information from you, a loud explosion made the whole warehouse shake.

“What the hell was that!?”

“Go check it out,” one of them pointed outside, making two men walk out while the others kept their eyes on you.

“Make sure they don’t get-” a bullet went through their head, followed by several more shooting as loud footsteps echoed.

“(Y/N)…!” your heart jumped at the familiar voice, making you look up weakly.

Albert quickly kneels down in front of you as he unties the ropes, making you fall over, but he quickly catches you.

“Al…bert…” you muttered, catching his attention.

“Don’t worry… I’m here…” Albert reassured you as he carried you out of the warehouse.

You sighed in relief as you started to lose consciousness, the adrenaline running out.

Albert’s eyes widened as he checked your breathing and pulse–they were both slow and weak.

“Quick! Get them to the hospital! Now!” he shouted as he ran out of the building and headed straight to the ambulance, laying you gently on the gurney as they carried you away.

“Their condition is stable, but waking up may take a few months… Even years,” the doctor sighed, looking sadly over the Moriarty brothers.

“I see… Thank you, doctor…” Albert sadly smiled as the doctor nodded and left the manor.

He sunk into his chair as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Don’t worry, Albert-nii-san… (Y/N) will wake up,” William reassured with a hand on his shoulder as Louis nodded.

“Yeah… You’re right…” Albert mumbled to himself as he stood up, brushing his hand over your cheek lovingly.

“We better tie all loose ends before it gets tangled,” William reminded as he and Louis left the room.

“Yeah… I’ll be right there,” Albert muttered, his eyes fixed on you as he closed the door.

“Now, for you…” Albert muttered, bloodlust radiating off him as the surviving kidnappers looked up at him in fear.

They were all tied down with their mouths covered up.

“I would let (Y/N) get their revenge on you themselves… But they haven’t woken up. I’m sure you know why…” he smiled, lifting your attacker’s face by the tip of his knife.

“Since we don’t have much time left… I guess I have to finish the job on their behalf,” Albert glared, making the criminals whimper as they breathed their last breaths.

Weeks have passed, and you haven’t woken up.

Albert stayed by your side whenever he could.

He would take care of you, read to you, and keep you updated even though he knows you won’t respond.

When he really can’t be by your side, his brothers or the others are the ones looking after you.

Even though you showed no sign of waking up, Albert kept his hopes up.

Albert let out a sigh as he sank in his chair, wanting no more than to be by your side rather than spending time with nobles.

His thoughts were interrupted as the phone started to ring.

He took a deep breath as he answered, preparing for the worst.

“Hello?”

“Albert-nii-san?” Louis called out, sounding tense.

“Louis? What’s wrong?”

“It’s (Y/N)… They woke up…!”

Albert bought the earliest train ticket to get back home, impatiently waiting the whole way.

He ran up to your room and saw that your bed was empty. He hastily looked around the manor and saw you in the gardens.

Albert inhaled sharply, his feet instinctively walking to you as he kept his eyes on you.

Before he realized it, he was in front of you, making you look at him in surprise.

You quickly stood up and walked up to him. Your eyes slightly dimmed as if remembering important, making you stop.

“How… How are you here…?” you questioned, holding your hands in front of you as you looked at Albert in disbelief.

“Louis and the others said you were in a meeting outside of Durham,” Albert frowned at this as he walked up to you, grabbing your hands as gently as he could.

“I was… But you’re more important…” Albert whispered, making you freeze.

“I’m sorry about that night… I pushed you away when all you’ve been doing was looking out for me… I should have listened to you, then maybe I-”

You cut him off with a hug, squeezing him tightly as you sobbed on his shoulder.

Albert loosened in your hold as he wrapped his arms around you, relieved you were finally back.

For the rest of the week, Albert never left your side, and his hand was always wrapped around yours.

When he has a trip, he always brings you along. He also goes the extra mile to spend time with you and take you on a date.

He also makes sure to take better care of himself and try not to pull too many all-nighters.

“Albert, you don’t need to go this far for me… We can just go rest at home,”

“It’s fine, darling. It’s been a while since we’ve been to this restaurant, and I know how much you love the food here,”

#yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #albert james moriarty #albert james moriarty x reader #albert moriarty #albert moriarty x reader

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lavishedinjimin · 5 years ago

Text

Crybaby (m)

— synopsis: he calls you crybaby, crybaby. but you don’t fucking care.

↳ Pairing: jungkook x reader ↳ genre: smut ↳ word count: 9.6k ↳ warnings: dom!jk, sub!oc, oc is small in height, rough unprotected sex, oc cries a fuck ton bc sex is too good and cock is too big for her, daddy!jk, little!oc, choking, spanking, intense dirty talk lol are we surprised, jk’s lowkey a sadist, SIZE KINK, big dick kook, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, face fucking, name-calling, degradation, taehyung makes an appearance because why not, this is just one big porn without plot thank you

cute people: @seokjoontae @gwccivante @pompurii

A/n: Before you start reading, the OC that I imagine in this oneshot is small in height, so if you read words like ‘little’, ‘small’, and ‘tiny’, please don’t get offended or feel hurt! It’s just the way I pictured this OC, but you can completely ignore that if you want and paint your own. Everyone’s beautiful in whatever shape or form! <3

It was a cold, rainy day and you were walking along the paved sidewalks. Holding onto your umbrella with both hands as you tried to prevent it from folding upwards from the harsh wind, the only thing that was keeping you going -- was café that you’d always go to before work.

It was called Jeon’s Kitchen. It was a café that was super underrated for its location was hidden from the busy streets, yet it served the best coffee and pastries that you’ve ever tasted in your whole years of living.

You push the door of the café and the bell rings, signaling your arrival. The fresh smell of baked bread and coffee instantly hits your nose, and you almost roll your eyes back from its heavenly scent. Folding your wet umbrella close, you greet the man from the other side of the glass counter. “Good morning Mr. Jeon!”

“Ah, Y/n, here you are,” he smiles back at you, his forehead wrinkling as he wipes his wet hands on his apron. “Good morning to you as well! You look very happy this morning. Why’s that?”

You approach the counter as your boots create wet marks on the wooden floor. Letting out a giggle, you replied, “Thank you, sir. But there’s no big reason, really.”

You ordered your usual brown coffee with banana bread and sat down on an unoccupied seat. “Your friend Jimin isn’t with you today?” Mr. Jeon asks and you shake your head.

You chewed on your food as fast as you can before answering his question, “Jimin got on sick leave, Mr. Jeon. I’m all alone today!” You sing-songed your last words jokingly, making him laugh.

“Oh, you wouldn’t—”

“Hey, dad.”

Your whole body jumps in surprise as a man, dressed in all black with a leather jacket, bursts inside the café, all soaking wet.

You were so frightened from the sudden outburst that your heart was pumping rapidly in your chest.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” Mr. Jeon asks quizzically, “And why are you so wet?”

Mr. Jeon’s son, Jungkook – as you supposed – smirked for a quick second before pushing his damp hair away from his face. You gulp, cheeks blushing at the embarrassingly hot sight.

“Dad, stop talking like that before I –”

“You know what I mean!”

“Okay, okay! Well, my car broke down today so I got it towed then I had nothing to do so I decided to help you with work.”

“Oh, that’s great then!” Mr. Jeon scans the room and locks eyes with you for a long second, and you swiftly pry your eyes away. Mr. Jeon grins, “Keep that gorgeous young lady over there company before she goes to work.”

And before you even knew it, Jungkook was right in front of you with his hands on the table, leaning down as he stared at your stunned face with a smirk.

“Hello.” He speaks, his voice sounding like honey and charcoal mixed together.

You swallowed the nervous lump on your throat before replying, “Hi.”

“Is it okay if I sit here for a while, hm?”

You nod your head.

Jungkook chuckles and does what he says. He rests his arms on the table and intertwines his fingers together. His eyes burn deeply into your own and you couldn’t seem to look away. You felt your cheeks blush and turn into a deep shade of red, not used to a man this handsome so close to you.

Jungkook studies you for a moment, scanning you up and down before squinting his eyes. “Do you not talk?”

Ouch. You felt a sharp sting on your heart, immediately lowering your head down. “S-sorry,” you half-whispered, avoiding eye-contact. This man in front of you not only looks handsome and cute, but he’s got a sharp tongue.

“Ah, no, please. I apologize. I was just shocked, that’s all.”

You lift your head up, “Shocked? Why?” your shyness was slowly fading away and he observes this.

“I wasn’t expecting a girl like you to be so shy and quiet when I first laid my eyes on you.”

Oh? You didn’t know how to respond to that, but it made your heart flutter nonetheless. You smiled at him, and he smiles back.

“I haven’t gotten your name yet though, haven’t I?”

Your body hastily prompts up, “Oh, yeah. I’m Y/n, nice to meet you.”

“Y/n,” he licks his lips as he says your name slowly as if testing how it rolls off of his tongue. You bite your lip at that, making you squirm in your seat.

“I like it, you have a very pretty name. Just like you.”

Before you can react or even respond to that, he cuts you off. “I’m Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you.”

“N-Nice to meet you too, Jungkook.”

Perhaps dating Jungkook was the best decision you’ve ever made.

Pinned against his bedroom walls, Jungkook leans down as he kisses you. His lips completely control yours, his dominant side showing and overpowering you. You keep moaning onto the kiss and that makes him groan. “Fuck, baby,” he sighs, scattering gentle pecks on the skin of your neck, “You like how I kiss you, hmm?” his big hands wander down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and causing you to moan.

“A-ah, Jungkook,” you whimper, his hands not leaving your butt. Jungkook smirks and pulls your body closer to him. You were so small that you literally had to tilt your head back to look up at him. He leans down to kiss your lips once more, but it was rougher. He wraps his whole left arm around your body, tugging you firmer, while his other hand cups your right cheek. He controls the kiss, your tongues fighting together and you couldn’t keep up with him.

You keep whining in the kiss, your hands gripping his shirt in a loose attempt of telling him to slow down. Your cheeks were flushed in red, blushing by how turned on you are for him.

Jungkook chuckles, stopping the kiss. “You keep moaning into the kiss baby girl, what are you, hmm? A little schoolgirl who got kissed for the first time?” he teased, your face redder than it already was. Jungkook suddenly growls darkly, the deep sound finding its way down your core. “Your little whimpers turn me on so fucking much.”

Your eyes widen from his crude words, feeling your panties soak. You rub your thighs together, and your boyfriend sees this. He smirks, lifting your small body with his strong arms and carrying you to his bed.

He sets you down gently with a grin, pushing the stray hairs away from your face. “You aren’t a virgin, aren’t you, baby?” he asks with a quirk of his brow.

You shake your head, “N-no… why?”

He chuckles, “Good. ‘Cause I don’t plan to fuck you like one.”

You almost moan with just that sentence, every little thing that he does turns you on. He suddenly grabs your legs and pushes them apart so that he can kneel in between them. Lifting up his black shirt, your mouth waters from the sight of his toned body. A quiet whimper escapes your lips as you bit on your index finger.

“Bet those little panties are soaking wet right now, huh?” he snickers, playing with the hem of your cotton shirt. “Let me take this off, okay?”

You whimpered, quickly placing your hand on top of his as you stopped him. You shake your head side to side, your eyes drooping.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Jungkook’s heart clenches at the sight of you and quickly leans down to caress your cheeks lovingly, “What’s the matter, my baby?”

“I-I,” you tried to start, “I’m not v-very pretty…” Your voice was shaking and you attempted to cover your face with your little hands, but Jungkook didn’t let you.

He firmly catches both of your wrists in his right hand. His eyes were burning holes in yours, “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Y/n.”

You gulp, noticing how he addressed you by your first name, and not the usual ‘baby’. His tone got more serious, his eyebrows creasing down.

He slowly creeps a hand beneath your shirt, feeling the soft, delicate skin of your tummy. Jungkook sighs, caressing your lower stomach with his big hand, massaging it gently. “You are so beautiful, Y/n, and you should believe me when I say that.”

He leans down lower to kiss your delicate lips tenderly, full of love. “You know I don’t lie to you. You’re the most beautiful and perfect girl I’ve ever met, and I’m so fucking lucky to even have you. Your body’s a blessing, baby. Be proud of it, yeah? Will you let me see your gorgeous body?”

His words immediately made you feel better, and it was surprising how he can control the way you felt. You felt so loved whenever you’re with him, a feeling that you’ve never felt in a long time. You were definitely the luckiest girl in the world.

Nodding your head, you gave him permission to remove your shirt. He smiles and slowly lifts the clothing up and throws it down on the floor. He eyes your body up and down, noticing how his cheeks blush in the faintest of pinks. “Shit,” he breathes out, “you’re a fucking goddess.”

Jungkook wastes no time to spread wet and sloppy kisses down the valley of your exposed breasts and down to your stomach. “J-Jungkook,” you moan, and a loud gasp escape your lips when he wraps his mouth around your left nipple, sucking and flicking on the hard bud.

“O-oh, y-yeah, Jungkook, mhm …” you throw your head back when he starts playing with your other boob as he continued to flick and bite on the little bud. Gripping a bunch of his hair, Jungkook growls from the feeling. He pulls away with a loud ‘pop’ and moves to your other boob to give it the same attention.

Jungkook’s hips were involuntarily humping down on you, feeling his hard cock rubbing on your thighs. You whimper, bucking your hips up to him in an attempt to feel some friction. He chuckles, “Needy little girl.”

He moves away from your body and you whine from the loss of contact. Jungkook only smirks and starts to unbutton his jeans, pulling the clothing down and tossing it to the side. Your mouth waters from the sight of his clothed cock. His cock looked long and thick from the way it was outlined from his briefs.

“Jungkook,” you mewled, biting your lip as you pleaded at him with your eyes.

He brings his hand down to tease you, palming his clothed, hard dick as he keeps eye contact. He was smirking, loving the way your body squirms on the bed. He grips his cock and strokes it up and down slightly. The image of him throwing his head back, his neck slowly starting to bead with sweat, his large hand palming his dick was enough to make you cry out loud.

“You want it, baby?” he asks with a raspy voice, crawling back to you.

“Yes, p-please,” you begged, but Jungkook shakes his head.

“M’gonna eat you out first. Gonna need this pretty cunt soaking wet for me before I fuck your little hole.”

Jungkook wastes no time and rips your shorts away, and he sees the little wet patch on your cotton panties. “Fucking hell,” he groans, his eyes rolling back to his head as your smell hits his nose. He rubs your clothed folds with his thumb, the slightest action already making you moan. “Damn, baby. You’re so sensitive. When was the last time you got fucked, huh?”

“L-Long, long time ago—oh my god, Jungkook!”

Without a warning, he pulls your panties down and licks a harsh, bold stripe from your dripping wet hole and up to your clit. He does this a second, a third time before you’re already begging and gripping on his hair. He circles his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, careful not to directly put his tongue on it.

“Please, w-wan’ more.” You mewled, eyes closed shut.

Jungkook suddenly prods the tip of his tongue on your entrance, collecting all of your gushes and wetness and letting himself taste you. He growls, his hand comes up to play with your clit using his thumb. He circles your bud gently as his mouth plays with yours slick. Your pussy throbs when he replaces his hand with his mouth, harshly sucking on your clit as his tongue flicks on it at the same time.

“Fuck! J-Jungkook,” you sobbed, bucking your hips up for more, “I want m-more, please, please, please!”

Jungkook gets turned on from your endless pleads, sucking on your clit harsher and flicking it faster. “Tell me how my tongue feels on your pussy, babe,” He groans animalistically, and the vibrations it caused made your whole body shake in pleasure.

“It f-feels so good, so good,” you sob, “I want more of it, please!”

You felt a finger prodding at your entrance, and your body writhes. “Shh, shh, baby, baby,” Jungkook coos, “Let me prep you up, baby girl.”

You hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he slowly sinks his middle finger inside your tight pussy. You gush around his finger, more of your liquid starts to drip down as he slowly fills you up with a single digit. Your eyes roll back, mouth agape as you couldn’t seem to form any words.

“Thaaat’s right, that’s a good girl, hmm?” he smirks, watching how your hips buck up, “Gonna have to prepare you for this cock, right? Don’t want your little pussy splitting into two.”

Jungkook starts to thrusts his finger in and out of you at a normal pace, watching how your face contorts in pleasure. You were a whimpering mess, your forehead forming a layer of sweat, your pussy clenching tightly around his finger. Jungkook’s cock seems to twitch every time he hears your little whines and moans, your cute noises turning him on to the max. He feels precum dripping down from his tip, making him groan.

Without saying anything, Jungkook shoves a second finger in, stretching your walls out good for him. “Ah, ah, ah, there we go, there we go, baby,” he sighs, licking his lips.

“Jungkook, I-I’m so close,” you whimpered, eyes watery.

“You are?” he teases and fakes a disappointed tone, “My baby girl’s already close? Oh what a shame, I wanted you to cum on my cock, not on my fingers, baby.” Even though you know that he was playing a displeased expression, you still took it to heart.

“B-But your fingers – aahh – your f-fingers will make me cum!” you cried, tears already dripping down your cheeks as you felt him fuck you faster, his thumb circling your clit at the same time. The nerves in your clit send electrical currents throughout your trembling body.

Jungkook growls as something snapped inside of him when he saw your tears. He wanted to see you sob.

“Yeah? They will?” he fusses, “Oh, I’ll be very disappointed if you cum right now, baby. You wanna make me mad?”

You quickly shake your head, sniffing, “N-no!”

“Then don’t fucking cum.” He growls.

The combined feeling of your walls getting stroked by his fingers and the way he was playing with your clit made it super hard for you. More tears seem to escape your eyes when he suddenly hits your g-spot deliciously. “Oh, right there!” you cry out, breathing heavily.

“Right here, baby? Ohh, you like it right here?” he licks his lips, loving the way your body contorts from pleasure. His fingers rub and stroke the spongey feeling of your g-spot with wild ‘come here’ motions. He sees your tears dripping down your eyes as little strands of hair were sticking on the base of your neck from the sweat. Your pussy kept clenching around his digits so hard that made his cock throb painfully.

“Please please please, let me cum!” you begged in a little voice, not having the energy to yell as loud as you wanted to. You tried your best to hold back your orgasm, but the way he was fucking your pussy with only his two fingers was too much for you.

“Please, I-I can’t stand it…” More tears dripped down onto your cheek, your walls fluttering around his fingers as you were getting closer and closer to cumming.

Yet, Jungkook suddenly removes his fingers out, denying your orgasm.

“No, no!” your whole body shakes and trembles and Jungkook immediately hovers above your figure. His hands hold your wet cheeks and wipes away the fallen tears, his cock twitching.

“Shh, baby girl, baby girl. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Jungkook places soft pecks on your lips, trying his best to calm you down as you were still shaking.

You whimpered, literally sobbing as you tried to stop yourself from crying, but everything was just out of control. Your pussy kept clenching around nothing and your breathing was heavy. Jungkook places his head on the crook of your neck, rubbing your sides and he scatters kisses on your shoulder. He chuckles breathily, completely amused and turned on, “It’s okay, precious.” He lifts his head up to look at your face, all flushed and your eyes glossy, “I’m gonna make you cum so good and so hard. I’m gonna make it up to you, little baby.”

“Y-you better,” you sniff, making him chuckle.

He tugs his briefs down with one and the other wipes the remaining tears on your cheek. He hisses when his dick hits your inner thigh, stroking it a couple of times and spreading his precum.

“You like what you see, my baby?” he smirks, noticing how you couldn’t get your eyes off of his hard cock.

It was so big, you weren’t even sure if it’ll fit. Your past boyfriends couldn’t even compare to him. The tip of his cock was pouring precum and it was angry in red, the veins in his shaft prominent that made you mewl. Crossing your legs together in need, a whimper flows out of you as you felt your pussy drip. You wanted to feel it inside of you for the first time, you want him to break you.

“What are thinking, hmm? Baby?” he says, letting his thick shaft rub against your wet, soaked slit. You whimper, bucking your hips up but his hands push you back down with a growl.

“Y-You’re so big, Jungkook,” you blush, “It wouldn’t fit.”

“Oh, I fucking know, baby,” the tip of his dick slightly nudges your clit, making you mewl from the sensitivity. “I don’t even know if you can take it.”

He hears you whimper and he slaps your cunt a couple of times with his thick dick, “But you will.”

Jungkook pushes the tip slowly against your entrance, and you close your eyes immediately from the feeling. He was going so slow yet you can feel how your walls were stretching so much with just the tip.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he curses, trying to fit this whole tip in without accidentally breaking you in half, “You’re so fucking tight, fuck, even with how wet you already are. Goodness, baby,” he chuckles, pulling his cock out as he tries to fit it in for a second time, “Pussy so fucking tiny, can’t even get the head to fit.”

He was able to push about half of his cock inside your cunt yet you already feel so full. You couldn’t stop the way your pussy was dripping more and more juices out, and Jungkook loved the way it felt.

He notices how your eyes were getting watery once again, and this time he felt concerned.

“Does it hurt, baby? Please tell me to stop if it gets too much for you,”

“No, no, please. Please continue,” you say with a small voice, trying to control your breathing, “I-I just love the way it feels so much.”

Jungkook feels his cock pulse from your praise, and it definitely turned a switch inside of him, “Yeah, you do? Look at you, crying already. Crying ‘cause you love the feeling, huh? Love the feeling of my cock stretching your tiny, delicious cunt?”

You nod your head frantically, feeling how he pushes more and more of his cock into you. It felt like it doesn’t seem to end. “S-so…big…” you cry, sniffing. Jungkook lifts your legs up and hangs it on his shoulders, the new position caused him more room to push and his tip hits your g-spot without trouble.

“Oh!” you yell, “Jungkook!”

“Fuuuuuck!” he drags out, starting to pump slowly, “Feels so fucking good. Your little cunt feels so tight, shit, it keeps clenching, baby.” Jungkook throws his head back, biting his bottom lip.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whisper, “I’m gonna c-cum!”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to fuck you a bit faster, hitting your sweet spot without difficulty with his thick tip. “Cum, baby, I’m not gonna stop you.”

Your eyes roll back from the immense pleasure, the feeling of a large wave hitting your body as you went through your hard orgasm. You’ve never cummed so hard in your entire life. You started seeing stars as your pussy clenches tightly around Jungkook’s cock as you feel him fuck you harder and faster through your orgasm.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, “Jung—oh my god!”

Jungkook adjusts his position and starts to fuck you deeper, his arms keeping him up as he pounds down in your cunt. He watches your reaction, how you never stopped crying and how you kept moaning and whimpering for him. He watched how your tiny figure was curled up, your legs hanging on his shoulders as it provided him more space to fuck you. He smirks and chuckles, loving how submissive you are.

“You love how I fuck you, huh, you love my cock? You love how my big, long cock stretches your tiny little cunt out? Hmm?”

You don’t respond as you were too focused on the feeling of his big cock pounding your pussy, his balls hitting your butt. His shaft was rubbing against your walls so good that it was the only thing you can think of. When you don’t answer, Jungkook gives one particular, hard thrust, his tip harshly hitting your g-spot.

“O-oh! Jungkook…” you whined.

“Answer when someone asked you a question, you bad, little girl.”

“I-I…” you gulped, “I love it, Jungkook…”

He pushes another inch of his cock in, making you gasp loudly.

“Love what?”

“I l-love how your big cock stretches me out,” you mewled, biting your lip right after. Jungkook cock throbs when your eyes meet and they looked so big. Your eyes were watery as more tears kept escaping from them, and Jungkook wanted to wipe them off of your face, but the sight was too good.

The way you were looking up at him so innocently made him fuck you harder and deeper, getting even closer to his own orgasm.

“Why’re you such a fucking crybaby, huh?” he chuckles, “Crying all this time, hmm? Couldn’t take my fingers and my cock? You couldn’t take how I fuck you raw? Fuck, baby. Cry as much as you want, I’m not gonna fucking stop until you say so.”

Saying that Jungkook was turned on was an understatement. There were no words to describe how aroused he was in this situation. He was so fucking lucky to have you.

“Deeper, please,” you sobbed. Jungkook does just that. His thrusts turn even harsher as he basically pushes all of his cock in, not caring that it might sting. “Aahh! K-Kook!” you cry, but he doesn’t care at this point. He was too in his feelings.

“Yeah, look at my pretty little girl taking all of this cock in her little cunt. You filthy little thing, you like it when I fuck you balls deep?” he chuckles when you nod your head, sniffing.

“My crybaby. I love to see you cry. Love to feel how my dick stretches that little pussy. So fucking tight, fuck.”

Jungkook feels your pussy clenching sporadically around him once more, and he senses your second orgasm. “Cum, baby. Cum around my cock again. Please, fuck. Wanna feel your walls tighten around my raw dick. Wanna see you scream my name and sob for me. Wanna see this little pussy ruined.”

That was all that it took for you to cum. Your hands scratch down his back as your walls tighten around his thick girth. Your mouth was agape as you screamed his name like he wanted to. “Jungkook! Oh my god, oh my god…” Jungkook keeps fucking you through your orgasm again as he helped himself reach his own high. You came so hard, your mind going blank as you just focused on the delicious, addictive sensation.

“Fuuuuck, yeah, oh my fucking god.” He curses, and with a few hard thrusts, he pulls out and shoots his cum on your stomach. Strings of his seed cover your skin and you moan from the sight. He kept pumping his cock with his right hand, his biceps flexing and abs tightening as he milked his cock clean.

After he was finished he flops beside you with a loud sigh. “Oh my god. I came so fucking hard.”

You giggle at that as you watch him stand up immediately to grab a wet towel from the bathroom, and coming back to wipe your body with it. He then tends to your face, wiping your cheeks using the clean side of the cloth. “I’m sorry if it was too much for you, Y/n,” he breathes out, “Seeing someone cry like that during sex was a first time for me.”

“No, i-it’s okay. I loved it. I cried because it feels too good. I’ve never felt that type of way, I promise.”

His eyes light up, his lips curving into a smile, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I probably looked dumb crying, didn’t I?

“No, no, no! Absolutely not.” He quickly says, stroking your hair. He kisses your lips lovingly, and you can feel how much he loves and cares for you in that little kiss. “You didn’t look dumb, in fact...” Jungkook looks away, blushing a little bit as he wondered if he should say it or not.

‘Oh, whatever.’ “It turned me on.”

You lift your eyebrows up in shock, and now it was your turn to blush. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he leans down close to your ear, and you can feel his hot breath hitting the skin, sending shivers down your back, “You looked so fucking cute like that, baby. So fucking hot, shit,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “I’ll stop talking before I fuck you again… just to see you cry.”

“Jungkook!” you playfully slapped his arm, your face completely red in embarrassment. “I’m too tired for another round.”

“I know, I know, baby. Let’s get some rest, little one.”

Having sex with Jungkook for the first time made you closer to him than ever. After that day, Jungkook seemed more protective of you. It wasn’t like he isn’t protective of you before having sex, but… things felt different.

He also acts more helpful? You weren’t sure if that was the right word to describe it, but he acted more caring than he already was.

He’d always cook for you whenever you visit him, he’d pick out clothes for you to wear and help you put them on, he’d grip your hand tighter whenever the two of you crossed the road, he’d order food for you in restaurants, and he would even massage your back whenever you came home from work. It was the simplest thing he does for you that amuses you. To be honest, it made you feel soft and fluffy on the inside. It made you feel a type of way, like you feel so protected and loved around him.

Knocking on his front door three times, you waited for Jungkook to appear as you held your hands behind your back.

“Oh, hi Y/n.” Your eyes widen when you saw Taehyung, his roommate, open the door instead of your boyfriend.

“T-Taehyung!” you stutter, completely surprised, “Hi… is Jungkook home?” you asked politely. You and Taehyung met a couple of times before, yet your conversations were always short and a bit awkward. Taehyung was a great guy, but he was always out and about so you didn’t have the opportunity to get to know him.

He was almost the same height as your boyfriend, and you still had to look up.

“He isn’t here yet, he’ll be back in a few minutes though.” He says in a monotone voice, towering over you. He looks at you so sharply that it made you feel intimidated. His eyes turned into little slits, eyeing your little figure up and down. You could’ve sworn he smirked for a quick second, but perhaps your mind was only playing with you.

If you knew that Jungkook’s roommate would be home, your outfit wouldn’t be a simple oversized t-shirt and short cotton shorts.

“Come in.” he states simply as he moves aside to give you some room. “Please act as if I’m not here.”

“O-oh,” you whisper, “okay…”

You watch Taehyung as he disappears into the hallway and goes inside his room, the door shutting with a loud bang. You frown. Maybe he had a bad day?

You still had so much time to kill left, so you had an idea. You walked up to Taehyung’s doorstep and gulped before knocking. “Taehyung? C-can I ask you something?” you say in a quiet, small voice.

“What?” he shouts.

You sigh, “I wanted to ask you about some—” You shrieked when the door suddenly flies open, revealing him wearing headsets and a PS4 controller on one hand.

“Oh s-sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckles, “I’m having a bad day today, so I apologize if I seem like an ass.”

You giggle at that, nodding your head in acknowledgment. “I wanted to ask you if I can use some of your ingredients, I want to surprise him some food before he gets home.” You say giddily, not realizing that you’re standing up in your tippy toes.

Taehyung looks down and notices this, making him laugh and shake his head in amusement. “Yeah, of course, Y/n. You can use whatever you want.”

“Yay! Thank you!” You quickly ran back to the kitchen as Taehyung laughs at you, his mouth smiling wide as he shuts the door, resuming to his game.

Jungkook can feel the excitement bubbling in his stomach as he parks his car, knowing that he’ll be seeing you again today after such a long day. He bites his lip as he makes his way to the front door, the thought of hugging your body, of kissing your sweet lips and smelling your scent was driving him insane. He wants to feel you. To see you again.

You, on the other hand, don’t hear the keys jiggling as you kept humming to yourself as you made him his favorite snack. Jungkook opens the door and sees you facing away from him, chopping away on the counter. He creases his brows in confusion, smirking.

Jungkook crosses his arms together, biceps flexing as he quietly walks closer. He leans his arms on the marble island, watching you in amusement.

You kept humming your favorite song, not knowing that your boyfriend was right behind you. You tip-toed as you tried to open the cupboard right above you, but it was too high for your short height. Huffing a breath, you reached your right arm higher, stretching up as much as you could. Jungkook only watched with a cocky smirk, lifting a hand up as his thumb and index finger played with his bottom lip. He watches how your shirt hikes up, revealing more of your butt, how you struggled to keep yourself in your tippy toes.

Even though you’ve admitted many times before how much you hated your height, Jungkook loves it so fucking much. He didn’t understand it before, but he loves how he can easily hold your tiny little body by just wrapping his big, strong arms around you. He loves to see how you seem so small beside his tall and intimidating build. It gives him the feeling to take care of you, the strong desire of wanting to protect you as your lover.

Besides all of that, though — the size difference turns him on.

His dominant side easily shows whenever you let him control your body with consent, letting him use your frail figure for both of your pleasure.

A whimper escapes your lips, “Mmph!” You frustratingly yelled, fingers trying to reach for the handle.

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip, feeling his cock twitch slightly inside his tight pants. He licks his lips and chuckles darkly when you wailed.

His eyes widen, though, when you lift your knee up to rest on the counter, trying to hoist yourself up as your hands grab onto the cupboard.

He quickly strides over to you and places two hands on your waist, pressing his front on your backside. “Hey, hey, careful, careful, little one.”

Your whole body jumps in surprise, eyes expanding as you flip your head to him, “Jungkook! You scared me!”

“No, you scared me. Climbing up the counter isn’t safe at all.”

Jungkook grabs your hoisted leg and puts it back on the ground. He still kept his body pressed firmly onto yours, not giving you space. “I couldn’t reach the cupboard…” you faintly said, making Jungkook giggle.

“I know. I was watching you this whole time.”

You gasp, trying to turn your body around to face him but his strength didn’t let you. He grips your waist firmer, a soft raspy growl leaving his lips. A blush creeps up your cheeks from the sound.

“T-then why didn’t you help me?” you grin, throwing your head back so that you can look up at him. The top of your head was pressed against his upper stomach, giving you a full view of his jaw and his face looking down at you.

Jungkook sighs, wrapping his hand around your throat without pressing. He leans farther down and presses a kiss on your forehead. “Because I thought you look fucking adorable.”

“Jungkook!” you shout with an embarrassed laugh. “P-please let me finish this snack I’m making for you.” You whine, wriggling your body as you tried to find a way out of his strong grip. Jungkook further plays his game though, wrapping his big arms around your small figure, enclosing your body with his firm hold.

“Mmm, fuck, I love you, I love you.” He mutters, making your heart flutter with his words. “I-I love you too, Kook. B-but you’re squeezing me so h-hard.” Your small hands try to push his arms away, but of course, it was useless.

Jungkook gives you one final kiss on the top of your head before he finally releases you, causing you to puff out a large breath. “Oh! Thank you,” you giggle, “please, let me finish this, Kook.”

“Okay baby,” he smiles, wandering to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. “Thank you.”

You nod your head and bite your lip, looking at his eyes. “Y-you’re welcome. But can you…” you look up at the cupboard, then back to him, “Can you please grab me the salt up there?”

Laughing, Jungkook nods and comes up to your side and opens the cupboard with no problem. “Here, little girl.”

You blush at the nickname as you grab the bottle with a blush on your cheeks. “Thank you.”

With a final kiss on the cheek, Jungkook playfully squishes your cheeks with one hand, “No need for that, babe.”

Jungkook also finds many different ways to spice up your sex life. Every round drained your energy but he had such a huge and impressive stamina.

“Jungkook, p-please, careful, careful…” you whimpered, closing your eyes tight as his dick kept pounding into your little cunt. Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle as he lifts your legs up to wrap around his waist. This position gave him better access to your g-spot, hitting all the right nerves that made you moan louder and louder with each thrust.

“Careful?” he snickers, “You want me to go careful on this pretty little pussy?” He pounds harder and deeper, making you cry out. “How can I go fucking careful when this cunt drives me wild. Drives me insane, huh? How can I go careful when you cunt keeps clenching around my thick cock? Hmm, baby?”

“Jungkook, oh my god,” you start scratching down his back from the pleasure he brings you, his dirty, filthy words sending you into a frenzy.

“My god, baby girl. Keep clenching your walls around me like that and I swear I’m gonna fucking cum inside this cunt. Oh my fu – shit! You wanna be a bad girl and keep tightening around my cock?”

You tried your best to relax, yet his powerful thrusts were making it hard for you to do so. You keep whimpering and whining, hugging his sweaty body closer on yours so that you can feel his hot breath. Jungkook places wet and sloppy kisses on your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and biting on it. He scatters your neck with bites, nipping harshly, making you mewl.

“Daddy, t-that hurts.”

You didn’t even process what you just said not when Jungkook stops his tracks. You lock eyes with him and there were this different look and aura on his face, his irises blown even wider and turning darker.

His breathing was heavier, and he wants to fuck you like his little fucktoy so fucking bad, but he controls himself. “What did you…what did you just call me?”

You shake your flushed face side to side, “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t know why I said it and I’m sorry if you didn’t like it…”

Jungkook releases a deep growl, wrapping his right hand around your throat and squeezing, choking you. “I asked you a fucking question and I expect you to answer it, you fucking slut.”

You whimpered from his degradation, feeling his big hand wrapping around your throat made your pussy clench tighter around him even more. Your mind goes back to his previous question, “I c-called you my daddy…”

Jungkook closes his eyes shut for five seconds, inhaling a deep breath as he prods his tongue on the inside of his right cheek.

He leans down so close to your ear that you can feel his lips grazing on your earlobe, his hot breath hitting your skin, making you shiver. “Keep calling me that and I’ll fuck you like the good little bitch you are for me.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your pussy gush around his thick, long cock. He smirks at your reaction and starts thrusting in and out of you once again, slowly this time. “I love how your pretty mouth says that. It turns me on so fucking bad.”

You giggle, cheeks blushing, “Okay, daddy. B-but – oohhh – go faster.”

Jungkook wipes the smile away from your face when he suddenly flips your frail little body over, making you lay on your stomach, your face pressed against the sheets. You whimpered loudly when a harsh slap lands on your ass, his hand hitting the flesh so roughly that caused a stinging, loud spank.

Jungkook pulls his cock out of your dripping pussy, making you mewl from the loss.

“So now you’re begging for daddy to go faster without saying please, huh?”

Spank.

“Is this what you want, huh?”

Spank.

“Wanna be a bad girl? Talking to daddy like that?”

“Jungk—daddy!”

Spank.

“Fucking get your words right, baby girl, before I bruise this pretty little ass purple until you couldn’t sit down.”

Your pussy was gushing slick out to the sheets, your eyes were already blurry as you let your tears drip down onto your cheeks. Jungkook can hear your little sniffles and he roughly grabs a bunch of your hair and tugs harshly, forcing your head to tilt upwards.

A loud whine escapes your lips, the pain triggering more cries out of you. Jungkook tsk-ed, spanking your reddened ass once more. “Look at you, fucking pathetic.”

“N-no,” you whimpered, feeling his head prod against your entrance, but he doesn’t push all the way in.

“Crying like the little cockslut you are, begging for cock without saying please? Daddy needs to teach you a fucking lesson, you little slut.”

You felt your stomach coil up from his crude, degrading words but it turned you on even more. Jungkook finally releases the harsh grip on your hair, “Up on all fours, crybaby.”

You bite your lip from the way he addressed you, quickly doing what he told you so that you wouldn’t be in more trouble. You hang your head low, feeling your teardrops run down to your jaw and on to the bed.

“D-daddy,” you sniff, “I’m…I’m s-sorry.”

He hits another hard spank on your ass, making your whole body jolt forward from the sudden sting. “Mmphh, d-daddy…” you plead.

“I’m not taking any little sorry tonight, slut. Take what daddy gives you as an apology.”

Without any warning, he suddenly shoves his whole cock inside of you, balls deep, without giving you any time to adjust. Your eyes expand from the quick shot of pleasure, your mouth agape as you tightly gripped on the sheets below you. You felt so full, feeling his cock about to split you into two. “F-fuck! Daddy!” you cried, your pussy clenching around his girth tightly.

Jungkook tries his best to keep his composure, to prevent himself from fucking you as he keeps his dick inside your wet cunt. His hands grip your hips tightly, for sure leaving red handprints.

“Be a good girl and keep my cock warm,” he growls.

“D-daddy, no… p-please mo — oohh — move!”

“You really want to disobey daddy, huh?” Spank. “You like being a brat? You’re not my good little girl.” Spank.

With his words, somehow, made you cry even more. You bite your lip to stop yourself from sobbing out loud from the overwhelming pain and pleasure that he’s giving you. You can feel his cock throb inside of you, and his tight grip prevents you from moving.

“I-I’m your…your good little girl, daddy.” You whimper as you shut your eyes, shedding more tears.

Jungkook groans when he swivels his hips slightly, his tip hitting just the right nerves inside your clenching pussy. He wanted to fuck you just like you do, but you had to endure your punishment.

“Oh you are now, really?” he snickers, “Good little girls take their punishment properly.”

“I-I’ll take it properly, daddy! Puh-please, I’ll b-be good.”

Jungkook seemed satisfied with your pleading, and he takes his cock out of your pussy. You whined loudly, your whole body shaking. Jungkook moves so that he was now kneeling in front of you, his heart clenching when he finally sees your fucked-out face.

He leans down and takes your wet cheeks in his big hands, watching you sniff and tremble. “Baby girl,” he whispers, placing a kiss on your lips. “Are you okay? Still want to keep going?”

You nod your head, trying to form a smile above all of your weeping. Jungkook grins but soon replaces it with a devilish smirk. His big hand wraps around your jaw and adjusts himself so that his dick was right in front of your lips. He grips his shaft in his other hand and spreads his precum on your lips, watching you with dark, lustful eyes.

“Gonna fuck this bratty little mouth of yours ‘till you learn your lesson, got it?”

You look up at him with fuzzy eyes, nodding your head. He pushes his cock in and you instinctively open your mouth, inviting him in. Jungkook throws his head back and groans loudly when his cock comes in contact with your tongue. His dick wasn’t even halfway in and you were already gagging.

“Shit,” he chuckles, his left hand holding the back of your head. “You look so fucking hot like this,” you watch him brush his hair back with his unoccupied hand, seeing his biceps flex. You whimpered, the vibrations hitting his cock deliciously.

“Look at you, fucking crying as your little mouth tries to take my cock,” he smirks, pushing more and more of his length in, feeling your throat tighten around him. You quickly remembered to breathe through your nose, and you do just that.

“What? Can’t take my cock either?” he snarls, pulling all the way out before snapping his hips back in again, making you choke. “I think my cock’s too big for this tiny little girl I have right here.”

His words sent up a spike of pleasure to run throughout your whole body, and you were determined to take all of him in. You slack your jaw and open your mouth wider – besides the protest of your tears – and you take more of his dick.

He starts to thrust at a steady pace, hitting your gag reflex again and again but you try to push it away. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you, watching how your eyes struggle to keep open as they keep shedding more tears, your lips drooling in saliva as his dick fucked your throat. He thrusts faster and faster, now holding your head in both hands.

“B-baby,” he groans, “take my fucking cock. That’s right, choke around it… fuck!”

Jungkook decides to push another inch of his cock in, and your throat harshly gags around it. You felt your pussy clench tightly and his dick throbbed harshly from the tightness of your throat. He shuts his eyes and keeps his dick still inside your mouth, the tip of your nose almost touching his pubic bone. “Fuuuuuuck! Baby g-girl, so fucking t-tight.”

He reopens his eyes and finally pulls his cock out of your sore little mouth, watching as a string of saliva connects from your lips and on his tip. You exhale a large puff of air, breathing heavily.

“Ohh, my precious baby girl,” he coos as he leans down to grab your face, kissing your lips passionately. You whimpered into his mouth, feeling so fucked out and tired, your arms almost giving out. “I love you,” he says, biting on your bottom lip right after, “I love you.”

You look up at him, your eyes slightly red. You knew that he was only saying these crude, vulgar words just for the sake of sex. You knew that he didn’t mean it. “I love you too, a lot, lot more.”

“Impossible.” Your boyfriend chuckles and swiftly flips you over again with no trouble, lifting you up as if you weighed like a feather. He lays you on your back again as he hovered his body on top of you, his forearms on either side of your face.

“I’m gonna fuck you like you deserved to be fucked, baby.” Jungkook wastes no time to insert his cock back in your cunt, and this time, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you balls deep, feeling your walls stretch around his girth once more. He couldn’t get used to the feeling, he wanted to fuck you even rougher but he feels like he’s going to tear your pussy apart. “Fuck, baby, your cunt feels like it’s gonna break if I fuck you even harder.”

“Daddy, p-please… I want it.”

Jungkook quirks a brow up, “What did you say? Say it louder, baby girl.”

You gulp down the lump in your throat, “P-please fuck me rough. Please don’t hold back, daddy, I d-deserve it. Fuck my l-little pussy until I break, please please please, daddy.”

Jungkook turns animalistic, a deep growl erupting from his throat as he snaps his hips even harder and faster. His cock was hitting your sweet spot all this time, and you couldn’t even keep your eyes open from the overwhelming pleasure. He’s fucking you so roughly that he can’t think straight. He lifts your legs up to wrap around his waist so that he can fuck you deeper.

“Aaah! Right t-there!” you squeal, wiping your tears away from your face with your palm, “Daddy, it f-feels too good!”

“Yeah?” he groans, “My little crybaby, wanting her daddy to fuck her pussy like it’s her last dick she’s ever gonna get?” Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing it just right. His dick throbs from the sight of you weeping, lips bruised from all of your constant lip bites. “This little body trying it’s best to take big dick, huh?”

Your cheeks blush, nodding your head, “Y-yes, daddy. I-I love it.”

“Oh I know you do. Pleasure too much for you to handle that you cry, hm? Bet no one fucked you this good. No dick has ever been good to you, huh? Is that it?”

Your eyes roll back, his hand squeezing your neck bit tighter as he feels your pussy clenching nonstop around his cock. “O-only you, daddy. Only your cock makes me feel this good.”

“Good thing you know, baby. Because you’re gonna feel daddy’s cock in you for the next couple of days. Daddy’s gonna make your small little body feel so sore tomorrow, the next day, and the day after that. Daddy’s gonna make sure that you couldn’t walk after this.”

With his head hitting your g-spot constantly, you felt the familiar coil in your stomach building up fast. “D-daddy! I’m gonna cum!” you whimper, chest heaving up and down, your forehead sticky with sweat.

“You are? Ohh, I know, baby,” he chuckles, “Your cunt keeps squeezing around my dick. Cum whenever you’re ready, little girl.”

After a couple more hard thrusts, the building knot in your tummy snaps. You finally cum around his cock, your walls clenching and pulsating tightly and sporadically on his length, your legs physically shaking. Jungkook groans, holding your trembling body in his strong arms, hugging you close. “Thaaaat’s it, that’s my good girl.” He purrs, watching your figure shake, your legs pulling his hips closer and firmer.

“Daddy,” you whispered, still cumming, “I-I…” your mouth was agape, not having the energy to form coherent words. Jungkook fucks you through your orgasm, trying his best not to cum immediately. His thrusts turn sloppy and he slows down, his own high coming closer.

“Shh, shh, daddy’s got you, I got you.” He bites his lip, feeling his balls get heavier.

“Daddy, p-please let me t-taste your cum.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jungkook almost came then and there, quickly pulling out of your drenched pussy and kneeling between your head, stroking his rock-hard cock furiously, “Fuck, Y/n, shiiiiiit,” he moans, gripping your left cheek in one hand as he strokes the fallen tears away with his thumb. “My good, pretty crybaby, gonna cum, gonna fucking cum!”

Your legs cross together as Jungkook’s cum spurts out, thick strings of his seed covers your face as your mouth opens wide, trying to catch them. Jungkook breathes heavily as he tries to aim at your tongue, but slightly fails as his body shakes from the strong orgasm. “Holy fuck,” he growls from the sight beneath him, watching you gulp down his hot cum. “Good fucking girl, fuck.”

He keeps stroking his dick until he’s completely fucked out, throwing his head back with his eyes closed. You watch him with big eyes, seeing how his adam’s apple bob up and down, his neck covered in beads of sweat. Little droplets would run down from his thick chest and to his defined abs. You whimpered, making him turn his attention back to you.

“Oh my fucking god, baby girl.” He chuckles, reaching to the nightstand to get the wet wipes. “I need to clean you,” he smirks, “even though you look hot like that.”

“Mmm, daddy,” you giggle, biting on your index finger as he cleans your face.

“Yes, baby girl?” he says, voice sweet and gentle, completely different from the tone he’s been using on you this whole time.

“Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for, Y/n? I’m here supposed to say sorry to you, for pushing your precious, little body.” He fakes a frown, still wiping your sticky face.

“No, I-I loved it. I love playing with you like this daddy,” you giggle with a blush.

Jungkook hums, “Mhmm, I know baby girl. You like it when daddy plays with your body rough, huh? Like it when I make your body shake and tremble as you cry?”

You face turn redder, rolling your eyes playfully with a stupid grin.

“I take that as a yes.”

You groan and push his body away from you with as much strength as you can, but you clearly fail to do so. Jungkook giggles, feeling your small hands pressing firmly on his chest. He finds you so adorable. He flops on the space beside you as he quickly wraps an arm around your body, cuddling you. He tugs you closer to him, his chest resting on top of your head.

“Baby?” he questions.

“Hmm?”

“I was really surprised when you called me daddy.” Your face instantly blushes red again, covering your face with your hands as a quiet groan leaves your lifts. Jungkook smirks, “I didn’t know you were into that.”

“A-as if it didn’t turn you on.” You snicker shyly, feeling the grip he has on your waist tighten.

“Oh it did. It fucking did.”

Without a warning, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and swiftly lifts your body above him, placing you on top of him. You squeal as he makes you straddle his blanket-covered waist. He tugs your upper body down until your faces were mere inches apart.

Jungkook’s chest tightens when he sees that your eyes were still red from crying so much. He chews on his bottom lip, lifting his hands up to caress your cheeks. Your head felt so small between his large hands, and it somehow gave you a comfortable feeling – as if you were so safe in his hold. You instinctively lean into his palm, eyes fluttering at him.

“Oh, princess,” he exhales, his eyes drooping slightly as he looks at you so lovingly. “You’re so good for daddy. You’re only mine, get that?”

Nodding your head, you smile as you feel your heart beat faster. “I’m yours, only yours, daddy.”

You didn’t expect the harsh, deep growl that left Jungkook’s lips. Your eyes widen when he pushes his thumb inside your mouth, getting them wet as you automatically suck. You whimper when his other hand crawls down from your spine and down to your ass, gripping your sore cheek.

“Mmmphh—da..ddy,” you mewl, gagging a little when he pushes his thumb inside further. Jungkook prods a tongue on the inside of his cheek as he looks at you so darkly. With a devilish smirk, he slaps your butt sharply, the loud sound resonating throughout the room as your body shivers.

“D-Daddy…it hurts,” you pleaded at him with your eyes, wiggling your ass.

“I know.” He says simply. It wasn’t the reply that you wanted, causing you to groan out in frustration. “Can you take it?” he asks seriously, lifting a single brow up.

You start to sniff, a lump forming in your throat as you look away. You shake your head side to side slowly, “N-no, daddy.”

Jungkook quickly removes his thumb out of your mouth and instead pulls your head closer until your lips touch his. He wraps his arms around you, pressing your body onto him until there was no space left. You mewl as you couldn’t keep up with his dominant pace, manipulating the kiss and showing who’s in control. Your hands find their place on his hair, playing with his gorgeous locks because you knew how much he liked it.

Your cheeks heat up when you feel Jungkook smirk into the kiss. He leaves deep little moans and groans, making your stomach turn.

Jungkook was the first one to pull away before it gets more heated. He watches your face, how you were slightly out of breath and your cheeks pink.

Jungkook was so thankful that you spoke your mind, saying the truth that you couldn’t handle another round at this time. He could definitely go on for hours and hours, but he was thinking about you. He had a huge amount of stamina, and you know that. With you saying no, he knew that you really trusted him.

Jungkook lovingly strokes your hair, pushing the stray strands away from your face. “How about we take a bath, baby?”

Your eyes instantly light up, nodding furiously.

“Good.” Jungkook taps your side a couple of times and you move away from him so he can stand. “You stay there and look pretty while I run the water, yeah?”

You giggle, “Okay, daddy.”

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head, “Don’t say that as if you want to be fucked stupid again, crybaby.”

There’s a part two!

Oh, and a part three?

#jungkook smut #btswriterscollective #btswritersguild #bangtansmutcentral #jungkook daddy #jungkook dom #jungkook hot

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djarinbarnes · 3 years ago

Text

me olvidarás - eight

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Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings for the chapter: jealously, angst, smoking, talk about STD’s, cursing, bad coping mechanisms, 18+ smut, grinding, brief oral, fingering, vaginal sex, Javi’s dirty talk, biting, choking, two idiots.

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: hi. i hope you like this chapter. it was.... kinda hard to write, so I hope you like it!! as always, thank you to @mcngata for aiding me with the whole spanish thing. I love u boo!

previous chapter · series masterlist

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“¿Y qué tenemos aquí?”

You don’t know how to react to the woman standing in front of you. She’s just a little shorter than you, her tan skin slightly glistening from the heat outside. The swells of her breasts are bared, and her stomach is visible where her top doesn’t meet her short skirt.

You pull your cardigan tighter around your body as she shoots daggers into you with her eyes. You gulp, holding the door as closed as you can to shield yourself from her prying eyes.

“Um… Excuse me?” You manage to croak out, and she lets out a laugh before she’s raising an eyebrow at you. You did understand some from the telenovelas you watched at home, but it was sparse and limited. She’s chewing on a piece of gum, and you watch as her red lips part slightly with every chew.

“¿Cómo te llamas?” She nods at you, and you chew on your lip, finally getting a hang on what she’s saying as she slows down. You tell her your name, and she lets out a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “¿Y dónde ha recogido Javi a alguien como tú?”

You don’t know how to answer her, or if you even want to answer her, so you don’t. You shrug your shoulders, and you just know she’s enjoying your obliviousness. To protect yourself a little more you close the door a little further, shielding more of you from her. “Can I take a message?” You offer, and you watch as she laughs, her laugh full of viciousness and venom.

“Puedes decirle a Javi… ¿Que cuando deje de jugar con mojigatas, sabra donde encontrar una mujer de verdad?” You know exactly what she’s saying, but you also know that it probably isn’t the best idea to say anything at that moment, so you play dumb. She can see the confusion on your face, and she laughs at your expression. You didn’t like this woman one bit. You still wondered what she could possibly want with Javi.

“You tell Javi,” her voice is also overly sensual in English, her thick Spanish accent lingering in the words, making your heart pick up the pace. “That Helena is looking for him. I need to talk to him. He has my number,” she grins, popping a small bubble with the gum in her mouth before she turns on her heel with a wink, leaving you dumbfounded in the entryway of Javi’s apartment.

You spend the next few hours wondering who this Helena woman was, and how she knew Javi. You knew it probably wasn’t any of your business, yet you couldn’t help yourself. She was beautiful, a pretty little thing and you were sure everything was sitting right on her. Just looking at her for those short minutes, and with the confidence she carried, you were sure they had slept together. And more than once.

You stuff a full, cold enchilada into your mouth, not caring about the way you’re eating since you’re alone. You’re savoring the juicy chicken, holding the back of your hand against your mouth as you chew. You don’t know what’s come over you as you swallow everything down.

You had no idea why you felt this way about an encounter you’d had with this woman. Maybe you were just feeling possessive over Javi, which you had no reason for. It wasn’t like you were dating. You sigh and rub your hands over your face, resisting the urge to sob and cry out.

Glancing up at the clock you realize it’s nearing dinner time, and even though Javi hadn’t asked you to make dinner and even though you’re somewhat mad at him, you make your way to the kitchen to pull out a few pots and pans to make something for when he returns from the office.

You had no idea how long it took to file a report, but you figured it could easily be a drawn-out affair. You decided to leave at 8 if he weren’t home by then, to save you the trouble of coming face to face with him, after your flurry of thoughts and the internal struggle you’d had for the past hours.

You cast a look to into one of the cabinets from where you’ve seen Javi pick out a pack of cigarettes, and you give into the temptation of smoking one. You feel like the whole situation with Helena has made your heart pick up the pace so erratically, you need something to calm yourself down with, even though nicotine probably wasn’t the best antidote. With shaky hands you pull out one of the cigarettes before placing it between your lips, shortly after coming up with a lighter, holding the flame to the tip of it.

You know the first inhale is the worst, so you settle on just a short puff, drawing the smoke into your mouth and inhaling just the slightest of the fumes. With an exhale you realize it isn’t the worst taste or feeling in the world, so you bring the cigarette back to your lips, drawing in a bigger intake of the smoke. You feel it this time, and you cough just a bit at the burn in your lungs.

The taste isn’t the same as when you’ve tasted it on Javi’s tongue. It’s much stronger and harsh in your own mouth, especially since the filter is doing nothing for the tobacco. You look through his fridge and drawers, coming up with enough ingredients to make some chicken with veggies. The cigarette between your lips is disappearing quicker than you would’ve liked, but you figure you just must live with it.

With a sigh you stub out the butt into the ashtray, before you start making dinner. The chicken in browning on the pan, and you’re chopping up some carrots when you hear the door being pushed open, and you sigh in relief when you hear the heavy puff of air leaving Javi as he steps into the threshold. Casting a look at the clock, you find the time to be 7:43pm. Saved by the bell…

“Hey,” you say over your shoulder as you hear him put away his keys and jacket before he’s kicking off his shoes by the door. Then you hear his belt buckle coming undone before he discards it against the floor as well. You feel his arms come around your middle and you feel him tense up – and you know he can smell the nicotine on you, even though he smokes himself.

You decide on not mentioning it if he doesn’t initiate the conversation. “Could get used to this.” he breathes into your neck before he leaves a kiss on your shoulder, letting go of you to set the table. “It isn’t every day I eat a home cooked meal.”

“Was it alright at the office?” you decide to try and make small talk, Helena still nagging at the back of your mind. You weren’t going to bombard him with questions at the first given moment, mainly because you were hungry, but you figured it might be a sensitive topic to him. And on top of that, you didn’t even know what the two of you were, and ultimately, it wasn’t your business.

“It was… like it usually was. Boring and the director was yelling my ear off for the documents being incorrectly filed…” He sighs as he recalls the way he pushed the files off the table to ravage you on his desk like a horny teenage boy. “I managed to sort it all and file the report, though.”

“Oh. That’s good.” You keep it at that, and Javi realizes you’re acting very differently from when he left that very morning. He figured you were acting differently the moment he entered the apartment, since you didn’t come to greet him at the door, like he’d hoped you would have. He’d imagined so many things while at work, and every thought had alighted something inside him.

The first thought had roamed his thoughts as he’d gotten into his car, the way you’d straddled him in the very seat he was now sitting in, and he felt the blood rush to his lower regions. Then he’d somehow heard the sounds you’d let out that very morning when he’d both fucked you and eaten you out right after.

God damn, he wanted to go back into his apartment and take you on every surface, but he knew the odds weren’t in his favor. It was both the world and the director of the DEA that was on and against his ass, even though he was still technically on leave. The problem with the director was, that when she asked you to jump you didn’t say yes or no, but how high.

He even had to excuse himself and act on his arousal a few hours into the paperwork, feeling like a teenage guy yet again as he jerked himself off in the stall to the thought of you. He didn’t know what’d come over him – he just felt the arousal clouding his mind at every moment he was awake, and especially when you were around him.

Yet now it felt off. He didn’t even know why you were acting so differently, since everything seemed to be so comfortable and enthralling when he left. Where he earlier felt like you looked at him like he was the only man in the world, it now felt like the two of you were in the last stage of a relationship, just before parting ways.

Like Javi hadn’t faced a situation like that before. Falling out of love was never easy no matter who it was with and how long it had been. He hadn’t even made his own mind up yet, about the whole situation with you. Everything was moving along so quickly; he had a hard time keeping up. Especially every time he reconsidered your age.

You heard him say your name and you turned off the stove, before turning your head to look at him for the first time since he entered the apartment. “What’s going on?” his voice is full of something you can’t place, and you really do contemplate on either lashing out or doing it in a calm way. You know that no matter what he says, you’re going to overthink it.

“Helena came by.” The moment the words and her name leave your mouth you see his Adams apple bop as he swallows past a sudden lump that has formed in his throat. “She was very intent on you finding a real woman, possibly her, when you were done screwing around with a prude like me.”

You watch as his brows furrow, and you feel your eyes fill with tears. You turn around immediately, not wanting to show him just how much her words hurt you. You hear him breathe out your name along with a hermosa, and you let out a sob. You really didn’t want to admit how much of an impact her words had had on you.

“Helena?” her name falls from his lips reluctantly, like he can’t believe what you’re telling him. “Helena was here?” You can her the anger in his voice, and you nod while wiping your eyes. You hear him come closer to you, and you flinch when he reaches out to touch you. “Did she say anything else than that?”

“She just asked how I knew you.” You sniff, and you feel his arms come around you again, pulling you into his warm embrace. You know you should probably give in and wrap your arms around him, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. What if he was seeing his Helena woman as well? What if he was having sex with someone else, while he was having sex with you?

You suddenly feel dirty. It dawns on you that you and Javi haven’t used protection at all while you’ve been having sex, and you feel your head going through every emotion all at once. Fear of you contracting something from him. Anger of him leading you on. Disgust with the thought of him having sex with someone else.

Sadness from the mean words Helena has spoken to you. And sadness in the form of you trusting Javi, and him proving that you probably shouldn’t have. You have a hard time focusing on anything at the moment, and you know your body is protecting you from a possible anxiety attack. You know the signs by now, and with the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the blackening before your eyes, you know it’s close.

“I haven’t seen Helena in months, not since…” He trails off, and even though you should probably believe him, you have a hard time doing so. You don’t know what to think at this point. “Come on, I’ll explain it to you.” He takes a hold of your hand and leads you to the couch, where he pushes you down on the soft cushions of the leather couch. He sits down beside you, with a few inches separating you. You appreciate the gesture.

“She’s one of my informants at the embassy,” he starts, and you immediately imagine a hundred things in your mind at once. Informant? Informing him about what? “DEA stands for Drug Enforcement Administration. We’re working towards catching some of the more… hardheaded drug lords in this country.”

It doesn’t catch up to you before now. The bullet wound to his shoulder – your thought about him chasing bad guys… It all clicks right at that moment. The man in front of you chases dangerous criminals for a living. “If you want to know things about them…” He sighs deeply before revealing the next part to you. “I figured you have to hang around the same people they do.” He’s reluctant to add the last part, but when he does you don’t feel much better. “The same women they do.”

“So, she’s a whore?” you hate the word, but you also hate the woman who was at Javi’s door a few hours ago, so you have no problem calling her the profanity. You watch as he nods, his teeth tugging his bottom lip in between them. “Are you…” you have a hard time asking him, but you know you must, considering you haven’t exactly been safe with him. “Clean?”

Javi’s eyebrows furrow at your question, the whole change of subject unsettling him for a second before he catches up. “Yeah.” It’s nothing more than that, so you raise your eyebrows at him. “I usually… use protection with the… informants.” You almost wish he would just say the word, as it if would make you feel better. It kind of feels like he’s sparing himself from the reality of the occupation the women have, and it makes you even sadder.

“Good.” You leave it at that before you rise, walking back over to the stove to reheat the food you were making when he came home. You can’t stop thinking about the information he’s just shared with you, but you also just want to forget she was ever there and that you could just go back to the happy little bubble you and Javi were in that morning.

“You don’t wanna hear the rest of the story? Why she’s coming here, knocking on my door?” Javi speaks to your back, and it really does feel like he’s just talking to a wall. It’s like his words peel off of you, like water on a brick wall. You feel sort of… emotionless about the situation.

“Maybe later.” It’s all you can muster at the moment, not really wanting to sympathize with the whore. Somehow, you just know Javi is and always will be a womanizer. His look, his attitude, the whole way he carries himself. It’s a match made in heaven.

You finish the dinner with your back to Javi, sensing the heavy smell of nicotine lingering in the air from where Javi is still sitting on the couch, puffing at a cigarette. You move the pots and pans to the table before you walk over to where Javi is sitting, his hands rubbing at his forehead while the lit cigarette is resting in the ashtray in front of him.

You lift it to your lips and take the last drag, before stubbing it out right in front of him. “Dinner is ready.” You tell him, your exhale full of smoke before you turn on your heel, grabbing two beers from his fridge. You watch as he rises from the couch, his eyes on you as you open the two beers before sitting down opposite of where he’s still standing.

No words are spoken between the two of you as you eat, and for the first time, the silence between the two of you is deafening. The space between the two of you is filled with uncertainty and unspoken words as you both fill your mouths. Javi rises in the middle of dinner to retrieve two additional beers from the fridge, and you hear the clinking of the bottles as he removes the caps.

He stands beside you as he sets the newly opened beer beside your empty bottle before the hand previously containing the bottle rests against the expanse of your shoulder. You draw both your lips into your mouth and close your eyes as you feel the warmth of his palm seeps into your skin from on top of your clothes.

“Hermosa.” You feel as his hands move, and when you open your eyes, he’s placed himself on the seat beside you. “You need to know.” You turn your body slightly, urging him to try his luck. “Helena…” you the sound of her name spilling from his lips makes your heart pound faster in your chest.

The emotions encapsulated in his brown eyes are unlike anything you’ve ever seen on him before. You can see the internal struggle he’s fighting at the moment, and something tells you it’s not easy for him to… tell you what he’s about to tell you.

“A few weeks ago, Helena was… kidnapped. And what they did to her, the men…” It’s like the whole incident replays before his eyes as he tries to find the right words to phrase anything. “It wasn’t good. I found her there, naked, molested by those men.”

Javi bites the inside of his cheek as he, again, searches for words. “Since… then, she’s been seeking me out frequently. Whereas it was previously me that sought her out, it was like the tables had turned. She got… obsessed with me. I don’t know why.” Your eyes shoot down as you sense movement, and you watch as he reaches for your hand. Reluctantly, you let him.

“Listen, I don’t know what I’m going to do about it. She obviously doesn’t understand a no.” You bite your lip, still not wanting to look at him, just to keep him at an arm’s length. “Hermosa, I swear I…” With everything Javi has just told you, you still don’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, you want to slap him, even though it’s not his fault.

A few minutes pass in silence, where neither of you make the moves to neither move nor speak. You let your tongue clean the outside of your teeth, contemplating on whether to take another sip of your beer or actually talk to Javi. You let out a breath before looking back up at him. His eyes are trained on you, watching you like you were the most important thing in the world at that moment.

“Sounds like you’ve got some serious lady troubles, Javi.” The sound he lets out is something between a snort and a laugh. You can barely contain your own laughter as Javi practically doubles over on top of you in a fit of tears and laughter. All the anger you’d held in for the previous hours had disappeared and had simply been replaced with… or gone back to affection.

When he pulls back, his eyes are full of tears from the laughter he’d just let out. You lick your lips and smile when he finally stops laughing. “Please forgive… whatever that was. Forgive me.” You nod before he leans into your personal space, nudging your chin up with his nose before leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

You pull him closer by the neck, nuzzling your fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck as you slide your lips over his. It feels good to have your lips back on his. No matter how much you’d wanted to punch him in the face not more than an hour ago, that had all dispersed when he’d actually opened his mouth.

“You’re not…” he sighs. “Mad. Are you?” he breathes against your lips, and you suppress a small smile playing on your lips. You shake your head slightly, before you breathe a soft no against his lips. Without saying anything, his lips find yours again, more eagerly this time.

With a fall of his hands to your hips, he’s swiftly getting on his knees before you, pulling your loose-fitted pants down your legs swiftly, his arms quickly spreading your legs on either side of his hips before pulling you close to him and into his lap. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, drawing a moan from his lips and into your mouth.

You feel every thought you’ve been overthinking during the day go out the window when he grinds himself up into you, letting you feel his hardened cock. Every common sense within you is telling you to stop, telling you to leave while you still can, yet your body isn’t complying at all. That, and your own mind is fighting itself as his lips move down your throat.

You throw your head back to give him more access, whimpering as his mustache and lips grazes against your sensitive pulse point. You feel heat bloom in your core, spreading from your abdomen and throughout your body. Your toes are tingling by the time his lips reach your collarbones, your fingers trembling as you hold onto the back of his neck.

His hands move on their own accord as he pushes your cardigan off your shoulders before he’s detaching his lips from your skin, swiftly pulling off your shirt before reattaching them to the bared skin of the swell of your breast. His fingers are soft as they trail up the expanse of your spine before he snaps the clasp of your bra open before pulling it off your arms.

He grunts against your skin as he ruts his hips up into yours, one hand grasping the back of your neck gently while the other holds your hip tightly. He places a constellation of kisses against your bare breasts, twirling his tongue around the perked bud, drawing a moan from your lips.

“Come, turn around.” His voice is hoarse from arousal as he speaks before he rises on his knees slightly. You get off his lap and turn on your knees, and you lay your chest against the chair you were previously sitting on with a push of his hand to your shoulder.

You brace yourself against the seat of the chair, feeling as the fabric of your panties are slid down your hips. You hold in a breath as you feel his exhale on the globes of your ass, your exhale shaky as your feel his tongue gently slides in between the lips of your pussy.

You have no idea how something so carnal can feel so good, but you’re not going to be the one to complain. You whimper as his warm hands spread your cheeks apart to give him more access to your pussy before he delves further into your folds, burying his tongue within your heat.

“You taste so damn good.” You hear him speak between his tongue flicking at your clit and fucking you with it. You whimper as he pushes a finger into your slick heat, curling it downwards to the front of your cunt. With every thrust of his finger and every moan spilling from your lips, he grins against your skin as he moves his lips to the globe of your butt cheeks.

You feel his teeth sink into your skin before he kisses his way up the back of your ass, all the way up to between your shoulders. His fingers retract themselves from your heat and you feel him shift behind you, you hear his groan from behind you and you assume he’s cleaning his fingers with his mouth all while pushing his pants down.

There’s something about seeing you bent over a chair like this that ignites something inside him. Seeing you so bared and vulnerable and spread out – just for him. His cock twitches at the sight of your clenching pussy in front of his eyes.

“Please…” He grips your hips as you push back against him, urging him to get on with what you’re expecting him to do. You hear his low grunt in your ear as he pushes against your opening, causing you to let out a whimper. You grind your hips back again, whimpering as the head of his cock fills you just the slightest.

Not even a second passes until he’s burying himself to the hilt within you, causing you to let out a throaty whine. His hand comes around to grasp your throat, his fingers tightening just the slightest around the column of your neck.

“More, move please, Javi.” You whimper, his grip cutting off your air supply gently as he starts thrusting his hips into yours rapidly. His pace is unrelenting as he ruts his hips into yours, your whimpers and moans begging him for more.

“Te gusta eso, eh?” his voice is low in your ear mixed with his grunts and the feel of his teeth sink into your shoulder. You whimper at the many feelings coming over you all at once, mixed with the deep voice, full of arousal. “Sí… Sí, lo haces…”

“Javi…” you whimper, your hand coming up to grasp the back of his neck as the other clings to the leg of the chair. You felt as the hand on your hip slid to the front of your body, his fingers sliding through the wetness practically dripping from your core and onto the floor.

Javi coaxed at your nub while still withholding the pace he had set, swiftly pinching your clit to feel you clench around him. The hand on your throat made its way into your hair, fingers tightening in it, turning it into a makeshift ponytail before pulling your head back harshly.

Your back is pulled roughly against his front, his hips still driving in and out of you as his fingers continue their assault on your bundle of nerves. Your slick is just about dripping down the insides of your thighs and your chest is heaving violently at the inability to even put together a sentence.

“Estas tan caliente por mi, goteando por todo mi jodido piso…” his lips are right at your ear as he speaks, and he grunts as you clench around him. His thrusts become erratic as he pushes his fingers against you faster, quicker, almost demanding you to cum with his actions.

You want to cum desperately, you need to cum on his cock, just as much as he needs you to explode around him like you did that very morning. Just the thought of the events of the day brings something out in Javi – something that makes him even more keen on drawing you to the edge.

Maybe it’s anger, or maybe it’s just possessiveness overcoming him as he feels you soak his cock even more. You let out a scream, your walls clutching his cock ever so tightly everything blackens before his eyes. He sinks his teeth deep into your shoulder as he empties himself into your begging heat.

You go slack against him as the aftershocks of your orgasm rolls over you, yet the feel of his arms around you makes the violent trembling in your body seem like the most amazing thing in the world. His chest is warm and sweaty against your back, and his breaths come out as deep puffs against your skin.

You turn slightly and push your lips against his, feeling a drop of sweat from his forehead land against your cheek as he kisses you with relentlessness. “Didn’t…” you breathe, his arms wrapping tighter around your middle. “think of you…” he’s intent in his kisses by now, not wanting to be separated from you at that moment.

“As the possessive type.” You finally manage to breathe, and you feel how he tenses up against you. You let out a short laugh as he pulls out and away from you, huffing as he pulls his pants back up from around his knees. You raise your eyebrow at him as he grunts while standing, his hand resting just above his knee as he stretches his legs.

“I’m not possessive.” He huffs again, licking and biting his lips as he watches you shift on the floor. He can see the mixture of your cum pooling on his floor as you continue sitting on your knees, your legs spread slightly. You let out another laugh before standing, pulling him close by the neck boldly.

“Yeah you are. But you’re also afraid.” You turn and pick all of your discarded clothes off the floor before putting them on. You know he’s watching you, you can almost feel the holes his eyes are burning into your body as he gulps.

“Afraid of what?” he tries softly, and you barely hear it. You turn to him as you pull your cardigan on before crossing your arms over your chest. You watch as he mimics your stance – crossing his arms over his chest as he raises his eyebrow at you.

Ever since he shared the details of… whatever had happened with Helena, you’d known instantly. There was not much to say to it though, because with the knowledge you’d gained from reading your novels… That much you knew. You knew the signs, and they were clearly visible in the man standing right in front of you.

“You’re afraid of love.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier peña x reader #Javier Peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #pedro #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #ME OLVIDARAS

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cherryyharryy · 4 years ago

Note

i have an idea for a request (it’s totally ok if you don’t want to do it) like an angst-> fluff where one of harry’s songs accidentally gets leaked bc of y/n like she has something on a flash drive and the song is on another and they get mixed up and obviously he’s really mad at y/n and they have a fight he’s super snappy with her but something happens to her like she gets into a really big accidental or something and he forgives her bc he cares about her more tha the leaked song

WC: 2.7k

***

Damage control wasn’t even an option.

Y/n sat there, staring at Harry’s laptop, numb to everything except the blaring desire to go back in time just two minutes. Two minutes is all she would need to undo possibly the biggest screwup of her life.

And the worst part is that this mistake ultimately doesn’t affect her. At least not in comparison to how it will affect Harry. And his band. And his team. Basically everyone involved with his career.

Her mind is equally begging for her to shut down and come up with a plan—an excuse—something, Is there anyway this wasn’t my fault?

She checks the time, her heart sinking to her stomach when she realizes Harry and his team will be back any minute. Any minute and she’s done for.

They’ve only been together for five months, officially. She’s still new to most everyone. She’s that girl Harry’s dating.

“I told you he played in that movie.” Jeff’s voice echoes outside the studio. Y/n closes the laptop and prays for strength.

“I have him confused with someone else.” Harry bustles through the door, a small crowd of people filing in behind him, back to the spots they left an hour ago. “Hey darling,” he greets, “finish your paper?”

Y/n’s frozen, morbidly wishing he had found out about his song leaking on his own so she wouldn’t have to tell him. “Uh, almost.”

He kisses the top of her head and hands her a cup of frozen yogurt. “Your favorite.”

“Thanks.” She sets it on the table she’s sat at while Harry pulls up a chair beside her. “Aren’t you guys still working?”

He waves in the direction of his band, “Mitch’s gotta fix his guitar.” He snickers, and slides his laptop out from under y/n’s hands. “Had a bit of an accident in the car.”

Y/n’s head tingles with what must be nerve damage, her place in this world, her place in this room, decreasing in value as Harry opens his computer.

“It’s gonna melt.” He nods to her yogurt.

“I’m not hungry.”

He furrows his brow. “You alright?”

“Mhm.” She looks around the room, everyone busy getting back to work, light chatter passing among them. “Uh, actually, I uh, I have to tell you something.” Y/n tries to swallow the lump in her throat with no luck.

“Okay…” He shuts the laptop and gives her his full attention.

“Okay, um—”

“What the fuck!?” The room freezes as everyone turns toward Jeff. “Harry someone’s got a hold of your song!”

Harry scrambles to his manager, complete shock on his face as they both stare down at Jeff’s phone. “Fuck.” They start to play a video, the sound of a girl screaming, with Harry’s unconsented voice playing in the background, fills the room. “How the hell did this happen?” He’s gritting through his teeth, neck red, veins bulging in his hands as he rips the phone out of Jeff’s hand. “HOW? Someone answer me!”

Y/N considers keeping quiet. Playing innocent. What good will it do to confess anyway? It’s not like it’ll undo what she’s done.

Sarah chimes in from across the room, “It looks like it happened half an hour ago. That’s when this video I’m looking at was posted.”

Y/n’s staring down at her lap, holding her head up with her fingers pressed into her temples when Harry slings himself back into the chair next to her.

“All that work, all that fucking work,” he nearly growls, “for some cunt to spread my unfinished song around for a buck.”

Y/n peers up to the room, a completely different picture compared to five minutes ago. Now there’s talk of lawyers and pressing charges while everyone shuffles around. Jeff slams the door as he steps out with his phone to his ear, and y/n knows she can’t claim denial, it’ll only make things worse.

“Uh, Harry?”

“What is it?” He doesn’t look at her, eyes glaring at his phone while another video plays of a group of people reacting to his song. “Glad they fucking like it.”

“Harry?”

“What, y/n?”

She shrinks under his gaze, mouth dry as she forces her confession out. “I uh, this is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m so, so sorry. And I’ll do anything—I know I can’t fix it—but...”

Harry’s tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing in on her as a morbid silence forms a little bubble around them. “Go on,” he whispers with grit, “finish what you were gonna say.”

She stutters, desperately trying to figure him out. “I’m just sorry. It was an accident.”

“An accident? How did you even manage to do this?”

“I—”

“Do you have any idea what this accident means, y/n?”

She reluctantly shakes her head no.

“How the fuck did you do this?”

“I—I don’t know...I was taking a break from my paper, and, I don’t know Harry.” She’s in tears now, warm and salty as they spill down her cheeks. Her mouth wobbles around another apology, but no sounds make it out.

“Fix it.”

“What?”

He stands up, yanking his laptop off the table, pausing to glare at her one last time. “I said, to fix it.” With that he storms across the room, slinging the door open just as Jeff reenters.

“Harry, your attorney—”

“Forget it.” He turns around and points his phone towards y/n silently sobbing in the corner. “She’s gonna handle it.” He takes one step out into the hall and stops, spinning on his heels to face the studio. “Don’t speak to me until you do.”

Mitch’s guitar that was fixed and propped against the wall, crashes to the floor when Harry slams the door.

Chatter passes around the room one more time, only now everyone seems to be in agreeance—that girl never should have been allowed in the studio, and maybe, Harry should break up with her.

***

Early morning rain fell outside Harry’s apartment. It was still dark, street lamps burning through the fog in the city below. His home fills with coffee as he pours his fifth cup; the prior four never offering more than a few sips before he had abandoned them somewhere, the counter, mantle, bookshelf, because he can’t talk without his hands.

Y/n sits on his couch. It’s velvet and pink and too big for one person. She hated it the first time he invited her over. If he breaks up with her, she’s going to tell him how ugly it is.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” She’s exhausted. She hadn’t hesitated to drive over when he finally responded to one of her hundreds of texts in the week since the mishap. But now she regrets it. They’ve been going in circles with the same argument for the past four hours. She’s convinced he invited her over just to be mean. She sighs, rubbing her temples. “I said I was sorry. You know that I’m sorry. And you know that I never, ever in a million years, would have done something like this on purpose.”

“I’m allowed to be angry with you. I have every right to be.”

“Do you, though?” She straightens up on his ugly couch and looks at him leaning against the doorframe that leads into the kitchen. “Aren’t you a little tired of hating me? God Harry, everyone else in the whole world has moved on except you.”

“It’s not everyone else’s song, is it? It’s not everyone else’s months and months of hard work. It’s not everyone else’s unfinished art? Nobody else is having to deal with a girlfriend that is so careless, so thoughtless, that she actually managed to leak my song!”

“Stop raising your voice at me!”

“You had no business snooping around my computer anyway! I told you you could work on your fucking paper, not to go prying around my personal shit!”

“You know what,” she scoffs, shooting up off the couch, “this argument is so pointless. You didn’t want me here so we could talk. You just wanted to torture me because you’re mad that people don’t love your stupid song.”

“What the fuck did you say?”

She brushes his shoulder as she passes by him, and a drip of his coffee spills onto his hand. He curses, and follows her into the kitchen where he lays his final cup down on the island.

“You’re being a baby because people aren’t fawning over you like they usually do.” She shrugs and slings her bag over her shoulder. “It’s not your best song, Harry.”

The veins in his neck strain against his flaming skin. His cheeks are sucked in, and if he bites down on the skin any harder he’ll puncture his face. “Get the fuck out.”

“I was already leaving, dumb ass.” She strides by him once more, practically feeling the heat steaming off his body. When she gets to the front door, she pauses with her hand on the knob. “Your couch is hideous, by the way. Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you have to buy shitty looking stuff.”

When she slams the door behind her, the apartment shakes, and cold coffee spills from each cup.

***

It’s nearing five a.m. when y/n backs out of the complex. Her wipers race across the windshield, but do nothing against the downpour wreaking havoc in the city. She does her best to stay on what she assumes is her side of the road, swerving to the right each time headlights blind her.

“Shit.” Nothing is open, and she can’t even see where it would be safe to pull over to let the rain pass. But her home isn’t that far, and traffic isn’t too bad.

She comes to a stop at a red light, only to realize she missed a left turn she should’ve made a minute ago. “Damn it. Fucking hell.”

As soon as the light turns green, she spins the wheel to make a U-turn, and if it hadn’t been for the rain, and her own clouded mind, and Harry’s voice echoing in her ears, she might have seen the truck who didn’t even try to avoid her.

***

It’s the headache from hell that wakes her up. And it’s the sterile smell of hospital that jogs her memory. And it’s a nurse not much older than y/n that says something about you’re lucky to be alive.

She’s poked and prodded and asked a thousand questions before her IV is adjusted and a pill to ease one of the many pains scratching her body is handed to her in a small plastic cup. A police officer repeats half of this process, and somewhere in the mess of her reality, she learns that the other driver was sending a text to his wife when he plowed into her car. He’s at home and she’s here. Lucky to be alive.

She made calls to her mom and friends, and even managed to type out a decent email to her professors for her upcoming absence in class.

When she automatically pulled up Harry’s name on her phone, the last text he sent, the one inviting her over so he could make her more miserable than she already was, sat there in all its taunting glory.

What is she even supposed to say? Hey, I know you hate my existence right now, but I’m lying here in a hospital bed with bandages wrapped around my head. It’d be cool if you stopped by.

It’s not long before the sun pops up and reminds y/n of just how early it is. The clouds part, and it’s like it had never even rained, like it had never even been dark for hours, and if she closes her eyes, y/n can pretend that the past week hadn’t even happened.

***

“How are you feeling today?” The nurse checks y/n’s IV, humming after her question.

“Just sore. Ready to get out of here.”

“We’ve started the paperwork, so shouldn’t be too long. Who’s coming to get you?”

Y/n blinks, feeling stupid she hadn’t thought this far ahead. She doesn’t even have a car anymore. The nurse looks over the computer monitor, waiting for a response.

“Uh, my friend.”

“Awesome. Dr. Kirby has to come check on you one last time before you leave. I’ll go see if he can stop by now, if you want to let your friend know.”

As soon as the nurse is out the door, y/n scrambles to turn her phone back on, and once it is, her lock screen is filled with missed calls and unanswered texts.

She’ll respond later; gives her something to do in the car to occupy her in front of Harry.

She can’t call him. Harry’s not a monster, although the past week doesn’t exactly prove her case, but she knows he wouldn’t refuse to come get her. If anything, he’ll be annoyed she didn’t tell him about the accident sooner. But she’s too emotional to deal with hearing his voice.

She types out a text recounting her last 24 hours, along with the name of the hospital. He immediately reads it, and a moment later he’s trying to call.

To: Harry

I’m too tired to talk rn

She lies. And it works.

From: Harry

I’ll be there as fast as i can

***

“Baby?”

Y/n cracks her eyes open, irritated she never quite fell asleep. Confused as to why Harry’s calling her baby. Angry that she cares. And the next words out of his mouth are ones she’d been predicting.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve dropped everything. You’ve been here all alone, shit. Are you okay? What hurts?”

He’s hovering over her, fidgeting, unsure if he can touch her.

“I’m fine now. Just sore. And tired.”

“Fuck I can’t believe this, I—”

“The doctor already said I can go. I’m not allowed to walk out on my own, so, you need to let the nurse know you’re here. She’ll take me down in a wheelchair.”

“Baby I’m so sorry-”

“No, Harry. You would still be busy hating my guts right now—”

“Hate you? I don’t hate you?”

“Well you did a great job this week making me feel otherwise.”

Harry sighs, gripping the bed frame and dropping his chin to his chest. When he looks back up he has tears brimming his eyes. “I’m sorry,” his voice cracks. “I know I’ve been an ass this week. I—you were right. I took out my anger from no one lovin’ the song on you.”

“Well it’s not no one. A lot of people did. And it’s unfinished anyway. You wouldn’t enjoy a meal if it was only cooked halfway.”

He nods, but y/n knows he’s only accepting her words because of the situation.

“You mean so much more to me than a leaked song. I’m sorry I treated you like shit. And that I—I made you think I hated you. You have every right to hate me.”

“You annoy the hell out of me, but I don’t hate you.”

His lips twitch, but a few tears slide down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” She takes his hand off the rail and smoothes her thumb across his knuckles. “You can make it up to me by getting me out of here.”

“I can do that.” He kisses the top of her head and hits the remote to call for the nurse.

“You can really kiss me, y’know. I’m not gonna break.”

He’s hesitant, but slowly lowers his head to press his lips to hers. He’s timid, and his lips are still damp from tears, but it’s more relieving than either of them would ever admit.

The nurse ends their moment when she pops in the room, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. “Hi, you must be y/n’s friend.”

“Friend?” He peers down at y/n, suggestion lacing the word. “Care to explain?”

“Not really, I’m so tired.”

“Mhm.” He clicks his tongue, supporting her arm as she swings her legs off the bed. Once she’s standing and steady, he tucks her hair behind her ear and bends down so his mouth can graze her lobe. “Since we’re just friends, I guess you’ll have to sleep on my ugly couch.”

#requests #requested #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #cherryyharryy

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years ago

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 18 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader finds more productive ways to spend her time, including babysitting Henry and volunteering at the local inpatient hospitals.

A/N: That’s my gif so please give credit if you use it 🤗 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader   Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral (female receiving), addiction, relapse, discussions of death/murder, unsub talk, hospitals, inpatient ward Word Count: 13K

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

The next morning felt strangely similar to the morning of the day we’d gone to the bank. . Waking up in Spencer’s bed and smelling the unmistakable, comforting scent of old book pages and stale coffee. I’d told him when I first came to his place that it reminded me of a library, but it was more like that quiet local hole-in-the-wall bookshop.

It almost felt like that morning, but there was one glaring difference: Spencer wasn’t in the bed.

When I sat up to try and locate him, I was reminded that there are consequences to my actions. My stomach hurt like shit, and I swore I blacked out for a second from the pain. It would pass, though. Considering I had gotten through the night without waking, it clearly wasn’t that bad.

I thankfully managed to get out of bed myself and take the pain medication I kept in my purse. And armed with the knowledge that the pain would subside within the next half hour, I hobbled toward the distant sounds of… vomiting.

Not even bothering to stop yet, I made my way to the kitchen to grab the poor guy a glass of water. It was the least I could do for his comfort considering that I was about to make his headache much, much worse.

Peeking my head through the open door, I frowned at the sight of my boyfriend half asleep on the toilet.

“Hey old man. I brought you some water.”

Finally looking up, not having noticed me until I spoke, Spencer groaned as he backed up to lean against the wall instead of the dirty porcelain. “God, when did I get this old?”

“Hmm. I’m guessing sometime in the past 30 years.” I hummed, joining him on the cold tile floor. The two of us just rested there, his hand reaching out to take mine with a solemn smile.

“You’re cute.” He mumbled.

“I know, thanks.” I joked back, knowing that I really looked like a whole mess, with my hair desperately needing to be brushed. He never seemed to mind, though. I was glad for the lighthearted domesticity of the moment, because I knew I was about to shatter it like a brick through glass.

Softening my features as much as possible with the anxiety coursing through my veins, I squeezed his hand before finally whispering, “You know your age isn’t the only reason you’re sick though, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He snapped back with about as much hostility as I was expecting. He ran a frustrated hand over his face, his breathing picking up almost immediately as he tried to calm himself down.

“I know you’re just trying to do what you’re supposed to, but please…” The waver in his voice broke my heart and turned my stomach to knots. With more force, he held his hand in the air and continued to stare straight ahead. “Just... don’t. I’ll call my sponsor.”

I tried to keep my voice quiet and nonthreatening as I pushed, but I knew that it wasn’t going to make much of a difference either way.

“We have to talk about it, too, Spencer.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“You’re going to get your chip taken away,” my voice broke in half as the word fell from my mouth, “I know that that’s important to you. We can’t ignore it.”

Speaking faster, our urgent pleas overlapped to create a small cacophony booming through the acoustics of the bathroom. “(Y/n), seriously, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A silence fell between us, and I let it sit there for a minute. I wouldn’t get anywhere with him if he was defensive, and that’s exactly what he was at the moment. But I wasn’t trying to chastise him; I’m not his mother, I’m just his worried girlfriend. I loved him and I knew something was wrong, and I just wanted to help.

I didn’t know how. The men I loved never made it far enough for me to be able to help.

“You didn’t even tell me you were coming home. We need to talk about that, at least.” I offered the narrowed scope, hoping that he would take it without any more of a fight.

He didn’t. Instead, he took back his hand and turned it to a fist in his lap. That time it was my breathing that became unsteady, and I tried to touch him, but he recoiled when I came too close.

“You didn’t seem to mind me being drunk last night.”

Although I knew it was coming, the words hurt just the same. I resisted the urge to mirror his actions. I wasn’t angry. I wouldn’t be angry, because that’s what he wanted. If I reacted that way, he could write off my responses.

“I’m not going to agitate you or shame you when the damage is already done, Spencer.” I said as confidently as I could, “I knew you needed affection and you weren’t going to ask for it yourself.”

He finally looked at me again, and in doing so, realized he was making a mistake. The anger melted from his face within seconds, being replaced with overt sadness and guilt. “I could have hurt you.” He whispered through the tears that started to fall.

“But you didn’t.” I said with a gentle smile, reaching over to wipe the saltwater from his cheek. “That’s not a very good excuse anymore.”

“It’s always a good explanation.” He clarified, chewing on his bottom lip. His hands released from their tense state.

My fingers couldn’t move fast enough to clear his tears, but he brought his own hands up to rub the tired eyes. I used the freedom to run my hands through his hair, pulling him closer to me.

Resting his head against my shoulder, he let out a deep, shaky breath. I continued slow, soft strokes along his arm, listening to the rhythm of his breath slowly recalibrate. Once I was satisfied with the pattern, I tried again.

“What happened on the case, Spencer?”

The tension returned, but subsided quicker than it had before. He took a deep breath and spoke through the exhale, trying to rid himself of the thought as he said it.

“We had to kill someone.”

My movements paused for a second before I reminded myself to continue, but my confusion remained. “I understand trauma is complicated but… You guys have to do that pretty often.”

Spencer wasn’t the kind of person who liked to share his thoughts. I knew as much; even his coworkers hadn’t seen the parts of him that I’d seen. There was no way for me to know if I knew them all, but I figured that I didn’t. I was almost certain there was a side of Spencer Reid that even I didn’t know. The only reason I didn’t try to figure it out was because I knew he liked it better that way. He designed his heart that way for a reason, and I wasn’t going to try and pry it out of him.

But he was scaring me. He almost never talked about his job, which didn’t bother me when it was obvious that he didn’t bring it home with him. Him getting drunk and defensive, though, were very different circumstances than the usual.

Understanding that there was no other way out of this, he continued to talk, hushed and slow. “I was alone with the guy, and I had the opportunity to kill him, but I didn’t. I didn’t kill him, even though I really wanted to.”

‘I really wanted to.’ The words stuck out in my head, no matter how quickly he tried to bury them.

“But after Hotch showed up, he had to do it. We didn’t have a choice anymore.” His arms crossed over his chest, but he pressed himself harder against me in a strange, contradictory stance.

I couldn’t respond to the most important part of his confession just yet; I knew the story wasn’t over. Like I’d told him, trauma and grief are complicated; however, there was something else he needed to admit before I could address the part of his admission he seemed most affected by.. “Spencer, that’s okay. That’s not your fault.” I reassured, trying to coax his arms away from his chest. I’m no profiler, but I felt like if he stopped trying to build walls, things might be easier. I could at least try to break down the ones that were tangible.

“I’m not worried about it being my fault. I’m worried about how… angry I am.” He said in defeat, dropping his arms back to his lap. He still didn’t want to touch me, it seemed. Like the same hands that had wielded a gun against a man were too tainted to share.

“I’m angry because… I wanted to kill him, I wanted him to suffer for hurting innocent people and —“ He covered his mouth, and I think the motion surprised himself.

I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible, no matter how illogical I knew that was. It felt like yet another morning was being taken away from us by what had happened before. I didn’t want to think about it; I didn’t want it to torture Spencer the way it did me. It was wishful thinking, and the stupid kind, at that.

Spencer would always blame himself and care too much. While he was always trying to work on the former, I hoped that the world would let him keep the latter. His compassion was one of the many reasons I fell in love with him. The thought of losing the man who felt the need to confess to me that he’d lied about checking me out in a crowded club invoked a sadness I never wanted to experience.

Although, the prospect of that loss paled in comparison to the acute sorrow I was feeling right then, holding Spencer while he failed to hold back tears, choking on his words. “I didn’t do it, and then he almost hurt someone else.” He said, his voice growing more frantic as he broke from my hold, grabbing his hair and pulling it like it would do something to stop the thoughts.

“And I’m angry that I wasn’t the one who got to do it. I wasn’t the person who got to kill him.” He spat, rocking forward as I tried to wrap my arms around him again. He didn’t let me, putting an arm out to hold me away from him. Still, he looked at me when he forced himself to say the conclusion that I’d reached the second he told me he had wanted to kill someone.

“I’m angry that I didn’t kill someone, (y/n).”

There were so many things I wanted to say to him that my mind literally couldn’t pick any of them. All I could do was stare at the man I loved, stopping me from doing the only thing I wanted to do. I just wanted to hold him; to remind him that I would love him no matter what. Just like we always did, I wanted my body to express the things that my mouth wouldn’t articulate.

But apparently, I was capable of doing that without even touching him. Because the longer we sat in silence, the more his enraged grimace warped to a frown. “Please, don’t look at me like that.” He begged, unable to take his eyes off of mine. I wondered if he could hear my thoughts, because before I even spoke, he pulled his arm back. “Don’t look at me like I deserve sympathy for that.”

Ignoring the pesky numbness forming in my lower half at the awkward position on the unforgiving tile floor, I thanked the lord that I was finally getting some relief from the narcotics, which allowed me to climb on Spencer’s lap. He’d finally ceased his valiant efforts to keep me away from him, accepting me with his hands on my hips.

When I tried to kiss him, however, he turned his face away with a sharp inhale. Careful not to use too much force, I use a tender hand on his cheek to lead him back to me. His eyes bounced between my lips and eyes, almost like he was asking me to try again.

“I’m not going to pretend you’re a monster to make you feel better, Spencer.” I whispered, attempting to infuse the words with everything I felt.

Whether it worked or not, I could never be sure, but Spencer’s small smile sneaking over his cheek was enough for me. “I’m pretty sure it’d make me feel worse.” He croaked, laughing as he bit his tongue to stop any other jokes from slipping out. Like he was betraying the pain by letting it go.

“Well I’m not going to do that, either.” I returned with a laugh. Then, satisfied that he would accept my affections, I closed the gap between us. The kiss was so soft I could almost question whether our lips touched. But his hands slid over my lower back, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me against him.

Eventually, it became obvious just how tired the both of us were. With a quiet thanks, he rested his face on my shoulder, enjoying the calm after the storm of his feelings that he’d finally released.

“Can you come back to bed?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, holding tighter for a second before he started to help ease me off his lap. “Let’s go, little girl.”

The return to my nickname made me happier than I’d like to admit. At this point, the use of my real name was like a litmus test for his anxiety. And although I could feel Spencer slowly opening back up to me, he still felt so far away when we crawled under the covers.

Turning on my side to face him, I saw something in his eyes that alerted me to just how deeply rooted this problem was. It wasn’t just the event we’d discussed; it was the knowledge that there would be many more like it in the future.

I wondered what Spencer saw when he looked at me. Did he see me like I was in that moment, or was I always going to look like I had before, choking on blood and a confession I wish I could have made more beautiful? Did he see me at all? Or did he just see all the mistakes he’d made? Would all our moments together be marred by the overwhelming tragedy of a single one? More than anything, I just hoped that he didn’t see the faces of the people who had caused us to be in that horrible tableau. I needed Spencer to see beautiful things when he looked at me, because I needed to see them in his eyes. If something so ugly was the biggest thing between us, our relationship would fray with time, each of us unable to truly see the other.

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known.” I said into the silent early morning air of his apartment.

As expected, Spencer’s precarious smile broke almost immediately, replaced with violent sobs and an attempt to hide his face from me by burying it in my chest. I let him, wrapping my arms around his head in the hope that I could act like a shield for the world that never let him rest.

“I’ll love you forever,” I let my voice break, but I didn’t let that stop me. “And nothing will ever change that.”

—————————————————

One of the things people never warn you about when you’re dating a bona fide genius is that there is no such thing as a surprise. It was like every time I came up with an idea, Spencer could see it on my face within seconds. I was never really sure how he did it, although he usually had the decency to wait until a normal person would have figured it out to say something. For example, when we were about three streets away from his best friend’s house.

“Why are we going to JJ’s house?” He finally asked, turning to me with a confused but excited expression that almost hid the residual negative feelings that insisted on sticking around a week later.

I glanced over at him, laughing at the way his fingers bounced on his lap. He never was subtle with his emotions. “I may or may not have offered us up as babysitters so she and Will could have a much needed date night.”

From the way his shoulders dropped, I could tell it wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Still, it didn’t seem like he was disappointed— he was simply trying to read my motivations that were seemingly counter-intuitive.

“Really? Isn’t that gonna be a lot for you?” The concern was evident in his voice, which I found both endearing and a little annoying. It wasn’t this fault, really. I was just so freaking tired of not being able to do basically anything I wanted to. Especially when the thing I wanted to do was watch my boyfriend and his godson.

“Henry may be well behaved, but he’s still a toddler.” Spencer continued, eliciting a deep sigh from me.

“That’s why you’re here.” I half-joked, pulling into the driveway that was starting to feel familiar. If someone had told me a few months ago that I would become friends with the woman I was angrily binge watching clips of on YouTube, I would have asked them if they had me confused for another girl. But, much to Spencer’s delight, JJ and I never really had that awkward phase. From the second that I met her, I knew that we just wanted the same thing: above all, for the people we loved to be happy. And it seemed we both had a soft spot for the man currently in my passenger seat.

“Oh, running after the kid is my job?” He laughed, already unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his bag onto his lap in his excitement.

“Yep.” I stuck out my tongue at him, which only made him lean over in an attempt to steal a kiss. I allowed it, if only to bring him within arm’s reach. When he started to pull away, clearly ready to hop out of the car and run to his favorite toddler, I grabbed a fistful of his cardigan in an attempt to keep him closer for a second longer.

“But seriously, Spencer, I…”

He settled into his seat, immediately recognizing the faint tremor in my words. His hand came to rest over mine, and I sighed at the warmth that filled my whole body in seconds.

“I want you to remember that you’re a good person.” I whispered, trying to let him feel how deeply I meant the words, “I know how much you love Henry. I think spending time taking care of someone that’s… not me… will be good for you. And me.”

Those big brown eyes glassed over, glancing down and then away from me as he remembered looking at my stomach didn’t ever do much for his self-hatred. Which, in turn, just made me feel worse. I wondered if there would ever be a day where he could look at me and not feel that way. I desperately hoped that there would be.

Spencer rubbed his eyes to stop any other emotions from spilling out. “Does JJ know we’re using her kid as therapy?” He joked between sniffles.

“She’s a smart lady.” I shrugged, smoothing out the now wrinkled cardigan beneath my fingers. “Besides, Henry said he missed you and it’s hard to say no to him.”

And just like that, Spencer’s bouncing returned, his hand reaching behind him to open the door before he could even open his mouth to speak. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t keep him waiting, then.”

There was no stopping him at that point, and I trailed along behind him, watching as Henry tumbled out of the front door and straight into my boyfriend’s waiting arms on the porch.

The rest of the night went a lot like that, too. Once the novelty of having me there wore off, and Henry realized that my boo-boo made it hard for me to play the way little boys liked to, Spencer returned to his rightful place as Henry’s favorite babysitter.

I didn’t mind; I was perfectly content watching the two of them. Between the cheesy magic tricks that required a little bit of childlike innocence to be entertained by and Spencer’s attempts to follow along with Henry’s excited rants about cartoons my boyfriend had never even heard of, I somehow fell even more in love with the man.

And even though I had planned this for him, it was restorative for me, too. There was this weird, paradoxical guilt you feel when you’re dating someone like him. Although I know that he wanted to spend every waking second of his free time with me, it made me feel like he was missing out on something else. Something better than me.

It was so easy to forget that we could do those things together. In a way, I could thank my injury for that. When we were limited so much on what we could do together, we had to find creative ways to spend time together that were still stimulating for the both of us.

That being said, in that moment I wished for nothing more than rest. Even just watching the two boys together was exhausting, so when Henry’s first yawn sounded, I jumped at the opportunity. Because, see, Spencer was good at the playing, but I was much better at the cuddling.

It wasn’t like he could argue, either, because while Henry curled up next to me on one side, Spencer was on the other, his arm reaching around to rest on the young boy’s back. Despite picking out the movie, Henry fell asleep against my chest within minutes.

And in the quiet calmness of JJ’s house, I found myself almost falling asleep, too. My head rested against Spencer’s shoulder, moving ever so slightly with each deep breath as my eyes struggled to stay open. That was when Spencer kissed the top of my head so delicately that I almost didn’t feel it.

“I love you, little girl.”

My heart skipped a beat at the sound, and the wave of goosebumps and satisfaction covered me like a blanket. If we’d stayed for even a few minutes longer, I would have fallen asleep right there. However, JJ and Will arrived home just in the nick of time. They tried to convince us to stay, but Spencer seemed uncharacteristically excited to leave, so I didn’t question it even though I wanted to. I took the trip home to catch up on my phone and try to wake myself up enough to spend another hour or so awake with him before I passed out.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.”

I perked up in my seat, not entirely sure if he’d actually said the words, or if I’d just imagined them a little too vividly. But when he glanced over at me, I knew that he was just doing that slightly unsettling thing where he read my thoughts.

“Why? You got plans?” I said through a yawn, trying to stretch within the confines of the car.

“As a matter of fact, I do have plans.”

At first, I thought nothing of the smug way he said it— up until I felt his hand slowly slide up my thigh, the pressure of his fingers increasing when he couldn’t go any further.

“This feels familiar.” I chuckled, my mind transporting me back to our first not-a-date. The sensations caused a desire to burn through me so quickly I became lightheaded, my lungs hungry and desperate as Spencer continued to tease me by avoiding the one place he knew I wanted him to touch.

But, of course, just as I reached down to move his hand, he pulled it away altogether.

“Lucky for you, we’re almost home.”

I audibly groaned, knocking my head back against the seat now that Spencer had succeeded in waking me up. “Sometimes, Spencer…” I mumbled, “I remember why I have to be such a fucking brat.”

“It’s my fault, is it?”

There was a distinct darkness and deviancy in his words, despite the joking cadence they were uttered in. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in some time; a voice that was imprinted so vividly in my memory that even just the thought of it would make me putty in his hands. And I knew that I was reminiscing a lot, trying to relive times that had long since passed, but every time I saw a part of the old Spencer — the Spencer who rambled in museums and demanded I cover up my Lolita costume — the more I felt like my life was finally returning to normal.

“Of course it’s your fault. Have you seen me?” I gestured to myself, swamped in a sweatshirt and shorts like a weather-confused idiot. If the clashing clothing wasn’t enough, my make up had smeared from constantly rubbing my eyes. “I’m an angel.” I concluded, intending it to be sarcastic but knowing that he really saw me that way.

And sure enough, Spencer looked me over for just one second before pulling into the parking lot to his apartment complex. “You’re spoiled.” He decided.

“Doesn’t feel that way right now.” I whined, chewing on my bottom lip as I continued to wait for his attention.

But he just parked my car, leaning over to grab his bag from between my legs. Before it got too far, though, I clamped my legs around the leather. “Stop ignoring me!” I said through a pout, only getting more heated as he chuckled in response, tugging on the satchel until it slid from between my legs.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Spencer’s eyes locked with mine, his other hand grabbing my chin and forcing my bottom lip out from between my teeth. He held my mouth open against my resistance, but as soon as I gave into his hold, he relaxed his grip, leaning forward and pressing a much-too-soft kiss against my lips.

Without even fully breaking away, he turned my head to the side to whisper in my ear, “Get inside and I’ll make it up to you.”

Life was returning to normal. Together we excitedly stumbled through the Langham apartment complex until we got to his door, and he fumbled to unlock it without letting me go.

Everything about the chaos felt comfortable and predictable. I didn’t even notice the dull throbbing in my stomach because Spencer’s hands felt like home. The insistent noise of all my messy insecurities was quieted by his lips trailing down my jaw and neck as we finally crossed the threshold.

“Watching you with Henry, I just...” Spencer began to mumble against my neck, our bodies gravitating toward his room with a complete lack of grace, considering how well I should know the layout by now. We made it to the door, but not his bed, as he pressed me against the wall right on the other side.

His lips were slightly swollen from how feverishly he’d kissed me, his breathing ragged and his hair wild from where my hands had raked through it a few too many times. But his eyes were what really caught my attention, staring into me so deeply that it caused a shiver to roll down my spine. Spencer sensed my hesitance, because he brought a gentle hand to my face before he spoke, quietly but surely.

“I want to marry you one day. You know that, right?”

I thought about before; how those words would have filled me with both a naive joy and overwhelming anxiety. But as I stood there, staring back at him, I felt a genuine smile spreading across my lips.

“We speak in a lot of ‘one days,’ Dr. Reid.”

I couldn’t tell the effect the words had on him, although I had a few guesses. I’d avoided the part of the sentence he’d meant for me to hear the loudest. We both knew I’d heard it. At the same time, I hadn’t denied the idea or given any reason to suggest I wasn’t happy about the statement.

“I’m serious.” He insisted, not ready to drop the subject just yet.

Unfortunately for him, though, I had other plans. As much as the talk of marriage gave me butterflies, there were more immediate needs I wanted him to fulfill. So, without saying anything, I subtly suggested that he put off the conversation and switch to other activities with a firm hand against the bulge that had already formed in his pants.

“God, I want to fuck you.” He immediately groaned, his head lolling forward and resting against mine. I figured that it would be harder to convince him to fuck me now that he wasn’t drunk, but he seemed even more willing now that we’d already made the leap of faith once. Nothing bad had happened to me then, and the dramatic improvement of my mood was helpful for both of us.

So I began to slide down the wall, my hands raking down his chest as I giggled, “Let me help you.”

Spencer’s hands moved so quickly and with such strength that it surprised the both of us. Luckily, he’d grabbed my hips instead of my stomach, halting me before I could drop to my knees.

“No.” He firmly corrected, lifting me back to my normal height before turning the two of us around so that my back was to the bed. “It’s my turn.”

Much gentler now, he helped lower me onto the bed, but he didn’t follow me yet.

“Take off your clothes.” He instructed me as he removed his own.

I listened, watching him intently to try and determine his plans before he actually got to me. But he kept his expressions to a minimum, only giving away his enthusiasm in watching me sheepishly remove my clothing. My shirt was still on when he climbed onto the bed and over my body.

“I want to see you.” There was something pitiful about the way he uttered the words, and my hands hesitated, holding tightly to the hem of my shirt as I avoided his eyes.

“You have an eidetic memory, Spencer. You know what it looks like.”

“I’ll never stop wanting to see you. You’re so beautiful, (y/n).” He used my name, and my body reacted just as quickly as he realized his mistake. Grabbing my arms before I could close them over me, he brought my wrists against the bed beside my head. “You can leave it on for now.”

What he said provided me all the context I needed to know what he was planning, and I locked my legs around him, hoping that I could stall him for a few moments.

“Please, Spencer. Please fuck me.” I begged, arching my back and baring my neck to him, knowing that he could see my erratic pulse in my neck.

“I can’t. Not yet.” His voice was strained, one hand raised so that his fingers could brush over my neck. “It won’t be much longer.”

Frustrated by his undying desire to take care of me, I used my hand that he’d released to grab a handful of his hair. “I want to feel you inside of me again.” I moaned through the words, my heels digging into his back and bringing his hips down to meet mine. I watched as his eyelids fluttered shut, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I want to see the look on your face when you fill me up.” I continued, bucking up in search of the delicious friction I’d been deprived of for months now. “I know what you’re thinking when you do it.”

“F-fuck.” He struggled to lower his hand to hold my hips down, but I could tell he was scared he would hurt me in the process. It was a dangerous game, to ever put me in this position when neither of us had pants on. Spencer’s confidence wavered as he choked on his words, “This isn’t going to work.”

“You can’t think about that if I’m not touching you.”

“Yes, I can.” He responded with no hesitation, his eyebrows raising in a challenge.

“But isn’t it so much more fun when it’s actually possible?” I cooed.

“It’s always possible, it’s just so unlikel— Fuck!” Spencer cut off by his own gasp when I finally succeeded in pulling him against my heat.

The noise that I gave was something between a sigh and a moan, and I swore I saw Spencer’s pupils dilate in response. There were just some things he couldn’t hide, no matter how hard he tried. But my satisfaction was short lived, and Spencer sat up on his knees to place a manageable distance between us.

“We’re not doing this.” He growled through clenched teeth, his nails raking over my thighs before he removed them entirely. “Stop being a greedy fucking brat and spread your legs.”

I waited a second, hoping that Spencer would get impatient and force my legs open himself. But he flashed me a look, warning me that if I didn’t behave, he could very easily just send me to bed without any satisfaction. And as much as I wanted to call his bluff, the idea of going to bed without getting to touch him was so upsetting.

So, I slowly dropped my legs open, running my hands over the skin still burning from where his hands had touched me. And even slower, Spencer lowered himself until his face rested against my thigh, the scruff of his cheek causing a shiver to run up my body.

“Don’t tell me that a few months of me pampering you has undone all of my hard work.” He murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

But the fact that I did was evidenced by my laugh. “That would imply you’ve actually accomplished something to undo, but I’m just as bratty as the day you met me, Dr. Reid.”

He smiled, his eyes focusing on my face as I continued to giggle, now urged on by the way his breath tickled my inner thigh. “Is that right?” He said in that familiar cocky voice. “Because I happen to recall that the first time that I did this, you tried to stop me.”

The blood rushed to my cheeks as my mind replayed the memory of his smirk from when he had held my legs open for him.

‘You’re not broken, little girl. Promise.’ Just the thought of the words was enough to cloud my mind, but I was dedicated to besting him in this exchange. If he was going to be arrogant, then I would give him the best challenge I could.

“Would you rather I fought you?” I asked, beginning to pull my legs shut before he grabbed them and pulled them over his shoulders.

“No. The instructions for tonight should be very easy to follow; even for you.”

I was trying to pay attention, but it was getting harder the closer he came to actually fucking doing something. It was so obvious that he was getting off on the way my eyes were barely able to stay open, my chest moving with each half-sob that came when he would lay a kiss against my hips.

“What are they?” I slurred, grabbing handfuls of the sheets to prevent myself from forcing him against me.

It was clearly the exact question he was waiting for, a devilish smirk stretching over his cheeks as he dragged his lips down to where I wanted them, moving them against my skin to say, “Stay still, and don’t be quiet.”

While I appreciated the instruction, I feared that it was in vain. Because when Spencer finally flattened his tongue against me, I couldn’t have stopped myself from immediately crying out if I tried.

My hands retained their death grip on the sheets, partially making up for the fact that my body immediately disobeyed his command to stay still. But I couldn’t help it; the long strokes of his tongue up and down my sex felt like pure bliss. And honestly, it wasn’t even just the physical sensations. It was just the knowledge that we were back where we should be; shamelessly indulging in our need for each other without inhibitions. Spencer was clearly enjoying himself, his hands struggling to gently hold me down while he devoured me like a man starved.

I couldn’t look at him, my head bent so far back I could see the headboard. His name fell from my mouth like a mantra, my hips rolling against each motion of his tongue.

“I missed you.” I cried, my legs once again locking around him, my heels on his back as I wished I could pull him closer. “I missed this so badly, Spencer.”

He couldn’t really answer, although I think the moan that he gave was meant to be a response. The vibrations almost sent me over the edge, but right before they could, he pulled back ever so slightly.

I glanced down to figure out why, and was met with his eyes watching me intently, analyzing every response I was giving him; memorizing the way my body shook with need after just a few weeks in his absence.

“Please, don’t stop.” I begged, not caring how pathetic the words sounded when they broke in my throat.

“Oh, I’m not.” He mumbled against me, raising his lips to close around the bundle of nerves at my crest.

At first, I just sighed, appreciating the soft flicks and swirls of his tongue that would eventually build up another release. But it was when I closed my eyes that he revealed his plan.

Without any warning, I felt his finger slip between my folds, thrusting into me with one fluid motion as my wanton moans filled the room. He didn’t let them distract him, his mouth intent on the rhythm it had set, and his hand insistently working to match it.

There was nothing comprehensible in the noises I made, and neither of us seemed to mind. Spencer was only urged on, quickly adding a second finger in his ruthless pace that finally forced me to release the wrinkled sheets in my hands. Instead, they wound through his hair, pulling me against him as I chased my release.

“Please.” I whined, hoping that he would know what I was asking for. Because I didn’t even know what I was asking for— just that he could give it to me.

And sure enough, he did, his fingers beginning to curl inside of me with each motion. I used all of the energy I could muster had to keep my hips relatively still, although they were still trembling with the tension spreading through my muscles that tightened around him.

I wanted to call out his name, to give him the praise and recognition he deserved, but my tongue was tied in the haze of pleasure that overtook me. I could barely breathe, my mind transported to some alternate universe where there was only Spencer and myself. There was no point in identifying where we diverged, because he felt so much like a part of me in that moment, I could never separate from him again.

My walls fluttered around his fingers that still pumped into me with the same vigor. His tongue continued to circle my clit while he gently sucked, clearly lost in his own form of pleasure from the activity.

I wished I could touch him more. I wanted to drag him up to my lips, turn him onto his back and ride him until my legs gave out. But I couldn’t; my body tired and no longer used to the energy we once made a habit of spending on each other on any given day. It had used that energy to dull the pain so I could enjoy the relatively tame experience we had just shared.

As I came down from my orgasm, I was filled with guilt over the fact that I hadn’t so much as touched him once in this entire encounter, and now my hands weren’t even able to keep my grip on his hair as he lifted his head.

Spencer seemed none the wiser about the shame brewing in my head, and he wiped his mouth to reveal a lovesick smile beneath his hand.

“Good girl.” He rasped, crawling up to my side rather than on top of me. With a tender hand, he brushed aside the strands of my hair that stuck to the sweat on my face. “I knew you could behave.”

He sounded so proud of me, which only served to intensify the guilt now pouring from my heart and tainting the rest of what should have been a beautiful memory. I clung to the little bit of light I saw in those toffee eyes.

“How dare you imply I’m ever capable of such a thing.” I chuckled, reaching out to hold him somehow.

He took my hand in his, raising it to his lips for a brief kiss before resting them both against his heart.

“Can I help you?” I sounded drunk from my exhaustion, but hopefully determined enough to convince him I was willing. He didn’t buy it.

“No, go to sleep.”

He leaned forward like he was going to kiss me, but then brought his fingers down over my eyes, brushing over my lids in an attempt to get me to close them. To his credit, it worked, but only for a second before they snapped back open.

“That’s not fair!” I murmured, pulling the sheet over me while I tried to sneak closer to him. I noticed the way he scrutinized my free hand’s movements, ready to stop it from doing too much.

‘It’s gonna be like that, huh?’ I didn’t let it stop me from trying. I didn’t even get to his bellybutton before he snatched my wrist.

“I said no.”

“You know... I could help you without touching you.” I offered instead, pressing my hand against his chest since he wouldn’t let it move any lower. “It’s not the first time we’ve touched ourselves for each other.”

Spencer snorted at the reference, bringing my hands up to his neck, where they happily ran through his now tangled hair.

“That didn’t end well for me last time.”

“I bet you still finished without me.” I teased, my tongue slipping out from my mouth. “Did my pictures come in handy?”

“Like you said— I have an eidetic memory. I don’t need pictures.”

The most noticeable part of his response wasn’t the way his cheeks turned pink, but rather that he didn’t deny that he’d used the pictures. Knowing they were long gone now, considering Penelope’s tendency to snoop too much for her own good, I wondered if that memory was filed away somewhere special in his mind.

“You especially don’t need them when I’m right here.” I purred, tugging him closer by his hair until the gap between us was gone, our lips pressed feverishly against the other.

It was always like that. Like the second we touched, the proverbial dam between us turned to dust. Within a matter of seconds, we’d be so wrapped up in each other that we didn’t care about the wreckage left in our wake.

Spencer didn’t let it get that far, though. He hadn’t in some time.

“You have had enough excitement for one day. I don’t need anything.” He clarified, clearing his throat and acting like I couldn’t feel his erection pressed against my thigh. Still, his next statement was so genuine I couldn’t have argued with it if I tried. “I just wanted to take care of you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

But on the topic of wanting, I knew I felt it more. “I want things to be normal again.” I answered quickly, an urgency blooming in my throat that died when I tried to finish the thought. “I feel so... useless.”

His hand has grabbed my chin before I even noticed its absence on my hip. He held my face towards him, a dark and pained timbre in his voice.

“Don’t ever think that.”

It was a plea. I wanted to give him the relief and assurance he sought, but my gut told me to be honest with him, even if it hurt us.

“It’s just that before, we... did so much more and I’m scared that I won’t...”

Why was it so hard? He was looking at me like he would do anything to stop me from feeling even the slightest discomfort, but I felt like I was suffocating. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I didn’t want him to worry. I wanted to make him as happy as he made me, but...

“I’m scared that I won’t ever be able to do it again.”

He couldn’t tell me that I was wrong. If he tried to make it only about my physical condition, he risked the chance of me telling him I don’t want to do it ever again. Did I feel that way? It was hard to tell; it was too early to tell. But the crushing despair that I felt at the thought of losing that part of our relationship suggested I did not feel that way.

“Hey. Look at me.” Spencer’s voice tore me away from the intrusive thoughts about our inevitable fallout, his hand still holding me in place in front of him, and his eyes still promising me the world.

“Just because we’ve done something before doesn’t mean we ever have to do it again.”

The words felt like the first breath after struggling for air underwater and finally breaking the surface just in the nick of time. Why were they such a relief? I couldn’t figure it out, but was too afraid to ask, fearing how Spencer might take it. Although, the tears pooling at my lashes gave him more than enough to read.

“Tell me you understand.” His request was as gentle as always. After a moment of trying, and failing, to collect myself, I nodded.

He sighed, cautiously moving his palm to cup my cheek. It was his voice that broke then. “I know this is hard, but I need you to use your big girl words for this. I need to make sure you hear me.”

“I understand.” My throat ached as I forced the words out. I could tell he wasn’t convinced but knew any argument would be meaningless while we were both so tired.

“Thank you.” He said, anyway. And like the prettiest sounding broken record, he let his fingertips trail over any exposed area he could find as he spoke the same words I’d heard before, even more insistent. “Even if you never touched me again, just knowing that you’re alive and happy... That alone makes the happiest man in the world.”

Spencer’s lips pressed against my forehead, resting there for a little too long. From the uneven shake of his breath, I knew he was hiding something, but didn’t want to ask what. I suspected they were tears.

I had disappointed him again. I had hurt him, yet again. I hadn’t meant to.

“It’s all that I need. To know that you’re happy.” There was an implicit message hiding in those words.

He was saying he wanted me to be happy, consciously neglecting to voice the resigned addition, ‘even if it’s not with me.’

“I know.” I whispered, half asleep as he continued drawing patterns on my skin. I meant to tell him that he was the only man who’d ever made me feel truly happy, safe, and loved— the only one I trusted with my heart. But all that came out was a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said back, leaving me to wonder if he’d heard what I meant.

—————————————————

After everything I’d been through, I’d sworn that I would never want to be in a hospital ever again. But, unfortunately for me, it seemed my stubbornness extended even to my own limits, which explained why I was currently walking through the doors of the residential inpatient ward. It was a good idea in theory, to volunteer in the last place I wanted to be so that I could grow used to being there again.

It didn’t have to be a scary place.

Especially since the people around me weren’t the typical hospital patients. In fact, the people there weren’t even the usual patients of the hospital. Apparently, the ward was hosting a group of traveling patients that had been deemed fit for a vacation to the nation’s capital.

My assignment was simple enough - simply meet with a person and discuss the book they were currently reading. There was no requirement that we had to have read the book before, considering that would leave most people without a partner at all.

I was expecting to meet someone to discuss some niche romance novel or whatever had recently come out in theaters, but as I scanned the list of books, one stuck out to me more than the others.

The Book of Margery Kempe (1501).

It wasn’t the book itself that piqued my interest— I’d never read it. I had, however, listened to Spencer explain the entire premise to me on several occasions. Unsurprisingly, no one else volunteered for the book from the fifteenth century that referred to the main character as “this creature.” No one until me, that is.

There was no questioning who my partner was when I entered the room, spotting her quickly on the outskirts of the room with the book in her hand, but her eyes fixed on the raindrops slowly dripping down the window.

“Hi, are you Diana?”

She jumped a little at the sound of my voice, and I tried not to be consumed by guilt for surprising her despite my best efforts not to.

“Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n). I’m sorry if I scared you. I was assigned to be your book buddy today.” I explained, gesturing to the book on her lap with a smile that wasn’t big enough to be fake. From what the nurses had told me about her, I figured it was best to just be as genuine as possible… which made my answer to her next question a little more difficult.

“You’ve read this book?”

“Actually, I haven’t. No one had.” I laughed, pulling another chair over to her before taking a seat. “But I have heard someone go through basically the entire story in their own words, so...” I never finished the thought, cut off by a slight scoff from the woman.

“I figured. You’re very young.”

“Hey! Young people can read the classics.” I defended, crossing the lower half of my legs and tucking my hands between my knees. It probably gave away some of my nerves, but I figured it was alright considering she wasn’t a profiler and Spencer wasn’t here.

“But you don’t.” She wryly noted.

“Guilty. My boyfriend does, though.” I acquiesced, albeit a bit distracted as my mind decided to focus on those memories rather than the current reality.

“At least you’ve got that exposure. It’s important to learn these things.”

For a second, it felt like I was being lectured by my boyfriend, making it hard not to laugh, which I was pretty sure she didn’t appreciate.

“Can you tell me about it? I want to know if my boyfriend was just making stuff up.” I shrugged, laughing while I found myself avoiding her eyes. She noticed that behavior; most people would.

But to my surprise, she started to explain the book, anyway. Less surprising was the realization that Spencer hadn’t made up any of it. It was clear as day from their similar words that they had definitely read the same book. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought they’d discussed it together, too.

She was more talented than he was at explaining, though. Maybe it was a little bit my fault, considering I always got distracted by his voice. But with her, it really did feel like someone sharing a part of themselves. I could tell how deeply she cared for literature, and it made me more excited to hear about the chaste holy woman that found herself tempted by jealousy and sex.

When her story was winding to an end, I was almost sad that it was over. “You must have been a professor.” I mumbled, having already forgotten the information I was given by the nurses.

She was quick to correct me, her mouth curling into a frown as she said, “I still am. I’m just not on the campus anymore.”

“Of course. Gotta stay sharp, right?” I half-heartedly joked, sitting up from my slouched position. A brief stint of silence stretched between us and glancing at the clock I realized that it would still be a little while until Spencer could come get me. So, I turned back to the woman in front of me, noticing the way she stared out the window as she chewed on her nails.

“Is that why you wanted to visit D.C.?” I wondered aloud, and her response didn’t help assuage that curiosity at all.

“I... have another reason.”

“That sounds very mysterious, Diana.” I giggled, leaning forward and whispering, “Are you secretly a rebel?”

She scoffed, but I detected amusement behind the apparent derision. “Nothing like that.”

As sneaky and vague as she was being, and the fact that I had been warned of her paranoia, I still found myself wanting to ask her what could possibly make her as happy as her current thought.

“So what is it?” I said, leaning back in an effort to seem less insistent, explaining my intentions in a rant reminiscent of my boyfriend. “I don’t mean to pry, I just... you got really happy and I’d love to share in that excitement.”

“That’s just selfish.”

She really was so much like him.

“That’s how you know I won’t judge you.” I pointed out, raising one hand in the air and placing the other on my heart.

“I’m not worried about that.” She just waved her hand at me, ignoring my dramatic gesticulations and sighing as she glanced down at the book once more. After another moment of contemplation, her eyes flicked up to me so quickly I almost missed them, analyzing my features one more time before she carefully said, “I’m here to visit my son.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Although her expression was anxious, she still seemed at least a little relieved to have shared her plans with someone.

“He is.” She returned, lightly brushing the back of the book, almost like she was trying to remember something etched on the beveled hardcover. “He’s a good boy. Very bright. He has wonderful adventures. He goes all over the country. He used to tell me everything but... he’s gotten too busy for his mother these past few years.”

As I took in the words, I felt the pain in her voice. My heart wrenched in my chest, imagining how awful it must be to not have a chance to talk to your family. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to ignore you.” At least, I hoped not. She had so many stories to tell, even in just this short window, I couldn’t imagine anyone would want to avoid her. Then again… I knew it could be hard.

“I know he’s busy. That’s why I wanted to come here. It makes it easier for him.” She was confident in her explanation, and I nodded back with similar gusto.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

“No. I’m going to have them call him today.”

We were both happy then, and I clapped my hands together in front of me to suppress the urge to touch her as I excitedly replied, “I hope you get to see him.”

“Me too,” she agreed, simultaneously hopeful and defeated, before turning back to the window with the same wistfulness as before. “If not, the museums will be nice, too.”

“Hey, if you need a docent, I could always call my boyfriend. He would be so excited to talk to a fellow scholar who could actually follow along.” I excitedly replied, rocking forward in my chair with a goofy grin at the thought. She reminded me enough of him that I figured the two would get along. He’d at least understand what she talked about, unlike me.

“There’s no one that can compare to my son.” She warned, narrowing her eyes and pouting in a way I swore I’d seen before on another face.

“I bet. He does sound a lot like him, though. I bet they’d be friends.” The gears in my brain, rusted and slightly worn, started to turn. “They actually might be... my boyfriend lives near here.”

And that was when it hit me, the obvious conclusion I’d been avoiding for some reason. That creeping, unsettling familiarity wasn’t from coincidence; it was my brain recognizing her as an extension of the man I loved.

“...What’s your son’s name?”

She never got to answer, because no sooner had I finished saying the words thanwe both heard Spencer’s voice from the door behind us.

“Mom?”

The realization crashed into all three of us like a goddamn freight train. And even with my flair for the dramatic, I found my head spinning as I tried to will time to rewind itself.

“Spencer? How did you know I was here?” Diana said through a confused gasp, turning to me to see the equally stunned look on my face.

“I didn’t… I—“

They both turned to me, but I was too busy staring halfway between them, my jaw dropped open and my brain suddenly devoid of any helpful thought.

When it decided to finally be helpful, it was only marginally better. “Well… that makes a lot of sense.” I said with a cringeworthy laugh. When neither of them laughed, and continued to stare at me, I quickly shot up from my chair and waved a shaking hand. “You should talk to your mom. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

I didn’t get very far before Spencer’s hand caught my wrist, his wild eyes wide and insistent as he crackled, “Actually, I need a minute alone with you. If that’s okay.”

I turned to Diana for her permission but found nothing useful. She was also still caught up in the disaster that had just occurred, and turned back to her son who seemed genuinely apologetic.

“Sorry mom, I’ll… I’ll be right back.”

Spencer nearly dragged me out of the room, shutting the door and hiding out of sight of any windows. If he was ready to unleash his pent up anxiety, though, he wasn’t quick enough.

“Spencer, what the shit?!” I whisper-yelled, the sound echoing through the sterile hallway.

My boyfriend didn’t have any answers, his hands raking through his hair as he clearly tried to calm his heart and rapid breath. “I’m sorry I— I didn’t know that she was here! What is she doing here?!”

“Oh my god. Shut up. I’m freaking out. What if she thinks I’m weird?” I rambled back, grabbing my chest once I realized that I was freaking out just was badly as the idiot in front of me. Because seriously, he couldn’t tell me his mom’s name so I wouldn’t be blindsided like this?

Then again, I guess I couldn’t talk.

“What did you say to her?” He whispered back, dragging his hands over his face. He seemed eerily calm while asking, considering just how much we could have gotten into during our conversation. Although, I guess it would have been weird to share the more intimate, embarrassing details with a stranger at a hospital.

“I don’t know! We just talked about you!”

“You talked about me?!”

“Well we didn’t know we were both talking about you!” I said was quietly as possible, which was not quiet at all. Waving my arms between us, I tried to explain the jumbled mess in my head. “She was talking about her son and I was talking about my boyfriend and— Actually, that reminds me.”

“What?”

His answer came in the form of a soft thwack on the back of his head. He jumped, raising his hands to his head in both shock and embarrassment at the public chastisement, despite there being no one around to witness it.

“Call your mother, asshole!”

“Ow?! Don’t hit me!” He whined, and I could tell from the tone that the only damage done was to his ego.

“Stop ignoring your mother! You shouldn’t even be out here!” I reminded him, laying my hands against his chest and beginning to push him back towards the door. “Get back in there!”

Spencer’s hands held onto mine, and for the first time in a while I noticed that they were shaking. The lighthearted panic I’d felt seconds before vanished, replaced with a painful sadness that seemed to bleed from him into my hands.

“I’m not trying to ignore her, I just…” His eyes were struggling to focus, and the crackle in his voice warned me that there was something he was trying to avoid saying. “I can explain… This.”

I didn’t need to hear it.

“Explain what?” I meant the question to be an expression of my feelings, but it seemed to freak him out more. Like I actually expected an answer for why his mother was in a program like this. Like the reason he had kept that from me mattered. I already knew the reason he didn’t tell me— It was pretty obvious.

“Spencer, I don’t care that she’s here. That doesn’t bother me.”

From the faraway look in his eyes, I knew he didn’t really believe me. I couldn’t blame him entirely. The shame was clear on his features. But I also knew that nothing I could say in that moment would make him believe me; it would probably take a long time. That was okay. We had time.

“I’m serious. She’s your mother and you love her, so of course I’m going to like her.” I tried to reassure him anyway, and I noticed the small twitch of his pout that slowly turned into a pitiful smile.

Trying to keep that upward trend, I motioned to my absolutely ridiculous outfit and bedhead before I laughed, “I’m mostly just mortified about the fact that I just met your mother looking like this and acting like a fucking moron.”

Thankfully, Spencer laughed back. His hands gripped mine tighter, and through the tears that stayed perched on his eyes without falling, he croaked, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just… go see your mom. I’ll go hang out in the cafeteria for a minute.” I jumped up on my toes, yanking my hands back only to them around his neck.

His arms caught me like they always did, holding me so tightly against him that I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. I kissed him just as hard, trying to remind him that there was nothing in the world that could ruin the happiness I felt when he held me.

I held his face as the kiss ended, squishing his cheeks together and warping his smile in the process. I was just grateful that it was still there.

“And take your time talking to her, because I am fucking starving.” I instructed. The crisp hospital air on my skin was cold as he left, but inside my chest, butterflies erupted that kept me warm. He gave me one final goofy wave before we went our separate ways again.

As I wandered through the hospital halls, I wondered if he knew how nervous I actually was. I couldn’t tell him yet; he would misinterpret it, regardless of his profiling skills. He would see the anxiety in my interactions with her as my fear over his future mental state instead of what it really was— fear that the other woman he loved wouldn’t approve of me.

There was no sense in worrying about it yet. Diana and I had shared a great time together as far as I could tell, and I would definitely make sure that Spencer spent more time talking to her in the future. So as depressing as the hospital cafeteria could be, it wasn’t so bad that day.

—————————————————

Being alone with Diana was so much different after I’d learned that she was Spencer’s mother. Then again, we weren’t really alone - Spencer was there, he’d just passed out and somehow ended up with his head against the pillow on my lap. I was a little surprised by how comfortable he was being so touchy feely in front of his mother, but I’d also recognized the exhaustion the second he walked into the hospital. He’d been out cold for at least 10 minutes, and I was barely able to stay awake, myself.

Diana seemed wide awake, though, watching the minute rise and fall of Spencer’s shoulder as he slept. At least, I thought that was what she was watching, but it could have also been my hand stroking his arm.

“My son seems very happy.”

I looked up, shaken by the sudden sound after nearly falling asleep to the rhythm of Spencer’s breath against my knee. “I think that has more to do with you being here.” I said through a yawn.

“I’m not so sure.” That was all she said, quiet and skeptical. Her eyes were scrutinizing everything she could see, and I thanked the stars that I didn’t have to go through this without him here, at least. At least we’d had one nice memory together first.

“Are you the reason he’s been so busy?”

I was dreading the question but had already planned my response. “I hope not. His job is so stressful, and he spends so much of his free time taking care of me.” I looked down at the mop of brown hair that hadn’t been brushed.

When I ran my hand through the ends of his curls, he shifted on my lap, his hand coming up to grab my thigh as he buried his face into the pillow. I chuckled at the clingy movements, which poorly contrasted my words.

“It makes me feel awful.”

I expected her to look disappointed or disturbed by the action, but she mostly just looked… sad.

“He’s good at taking care of people.” She explained, her head jerking away to stare at the lamp beside her. “I made him do it too often.”

Her answer hurt me in more ways than one. It hurt me because I felt the guilt and shame in her voice over something that she had no control over, which was obviously something that should never happen. But it also hurt because I heard myself in it, and I had to ask myself if, just like I had found traits of my father in Spencer, he’d found his mother in me.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t be ashamed of being like her - she was brilliant and obviously cared for him deeply. It was the source of the shame that frightened me.

Was he just with me to take care of me? How soon would he grow tired of that? What would happen when I got better? Would I ever? Did I even want to, if that meant he would leave?

They were terrible, awful thoughts to have. So, I did what I was best at, and shoved them back into the corner of my mind to revisit when I was desperate and alone.

“I think he would disagree. He obviously loves you very much.” Was what I said, instead.

“I could say the same for you.” There was a slight bitterness in her words that forced a frown out of me. The words were forceful, almost like a compulsion that she wanted to fight but was too tired to win. She seemed to regret that, too.

“I know my son... and I’ve never seen him like this before.” She pointed to him on my lap, still sound asleep despite the conversation happening above him. “I don’t think he’s ever slept that well with me. And…”

Part of me wanted to tell her that it wasn’t always like this. I wanted her to know that it had nothing to do with any failing of her own, but a failing on the part of the rest of the world for hurting him when neither of us had been there. But she probably felt the same guilt I did that we couldn’t fix those broken parts. Her eyes met mine, and in the reflection, I saw both of our apprehension.

“I’ve never felt like a girl was taking my son away from me before.”

The breath wasn’t knocked from me, but it did fall out of me in a slow, shaky exhale. I didn’t know what to say back, terrified by the implication behind the words just as much as the fact she felt them.

“He’ll always be yours first.” I promised her, refusing to look away from her eyes even as she refused to meet them. I needed her to know that I would never be a threat to them. That all I wanted or cared about was that he was happy and safe, and that I knew she felt the same.

“Then he should call me more.” Diana said, wry humor bleeding back into the conversation despite how heavy it had become.

“I’ll make sure he does.” I answered, my hands resuming their gentle soothing motions. I saw her hand mimicking the actions against her blanket and found myself wondering about things I’d never ask her. I knew virtually nothing about his childhood aside from the prodigy thing, but it was clear that his father was not in the picture, and that he was very close with his mother.

I couldn’t blame her for wanting to protect him. Just as I had thought it, she’d said it herself.

“When you’re kind like my son, the world will eat you alive if no one is protecting you.”

Maybe Spencer had gotten that mind reading trait from his mother, rather than his profiler training, I thought.

“Are you going to protect him?”

I wasn’t ready for that question. Honestly, I hadn’t even considered it. In all the time we’d been together, I’d selfishly worried about how any harm to him would affect me. In my defense, it had always seemed the more likely scenario.

I was so worried about being the source of his hurt or not being able to fix it that I never thought about how I could prevent it. It almost felt… inevitable. Everyone who loved me got hurt, and he’d already made up his mind on that topic.

“I’m going to try.” The hesitance in my voice gave away my anxieties, and Diana spoke quicker and bolder.  

“You said he takes care of you, but what do you do for him?”

The walls were closing in on me, and I couldn’t fucking breathe. My hand on Spencer’s arm grabbed his shirt before I noticed. I wanted him to be awake, to hold me and tell me that it would be okay. I wanted to be far away from that conversation— that question.

“I-I…” I mumbled, trying to flatten my hand as his mother saw it, trying to act like I wasn’t a fucking child clinging to her boyfriend to save her from a question she didn’t have a satisfying answer to.

It was too late, and Diana covered her mouth as she looked away. “I see.” She said before we both went silent.

The silence didn’t help either, though. If anything, it felt worse. Like my chest had been torn open and she could see all the contents, and the longer I gave her to draw her own conclusions about what she saw, the worst they would become.

That was stupid, right? I couldn’t tell. She liked me, right? Did it matter?

“He told me he wants to get married and have kids and I’m just...” I started to ramble, my hands now hovering above Spencer as I stared down at him, still sleeping soundly like the world wasn’t crushing me above him. In a panic, I looked up to Diana with what I can only assume was a terrified, frantic look. “I’m worried. I’m scared that he won’t be as happy as he could be if he stays with me instead of... someone else. And that question scares me because I still don’t know why he cares about me so much when I can’t give him half of what he gives me.”

My chest heaved from a combination of the lack of breath and skyrocketing pulse. Diana peered at me through her peripherals, a battle visible behind her gaze.

“Most people would be scared to admit that. Especially to his mother.” She thought out loud, and I knew she was weighing my open admission to determine how likely it was that I was lying.

“I figured lying would be worse. I know honesty is important to your family.” I confessed, hoping that my openness wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass. “I don’t ever want to lie to either of you.”

I left off the ‘again.’

“You know what I think?” Diana said, tapping her chin and readjusting the blanket over her legs as she found a way to be more comfortable with the tension floating in the air.

I took it as a good sign. I hoped it was a good sign. I looked at her in anticipation.

“I think... you two will be happier than you think.” Diana’s lips curled ever so slightly as she held her own hand, rubbing the back of her hand the same way Spencer often rubbed mine. “Love is more than similar beliefs. It’s wanting to share your life with someone. Wanting to see them happy.”

Despite the content of her words, it didn’t feel like a lecture. It was… warm, and comforting. Her voice sounded familiar and loving and safe. She was the one who had taught Spencer to talk.

“I love my son more than anything else in the world. I won’t let anyone take him away unless I’m positive that he will be happy.” Diana finished; the warning grave but her voice quiet.

“I understand.” I replied just as softly, finally looking back down to Spencer. My heart felt like it would burst from the image. As much as I wanted him to see me and his mother having a heart to heart, it was best not to worry him with our battling affections, no matter how minimal the risk.

“Do you love him?”

The question hung in the air because I was still so caught up in his face that I almost forgot she couldn’t read my mind.

“Yes.” I felt the tears forming in my eyes as I breathlessly repeated, “Yes, I do. I love him.”

Diana must have heard the strain in my voice and seen the tiredness in my eyes, because the threatening tone faded. “Then take care of him.” She said, more like a plea than a demand. “Take care of him like I never could, because you know how much he deserves it.”

I nodded, excitedly and happily, my voice breaking and interrupted by a hard swallow to rid myself of the lump in my throat when I said, “I will.”

With perfect timing, Spencer’s body jerked under my hand as it found its way back to his shoulder. “What are you guys talking about?” He slurred before even opening his eyes, clearly bothered by the lost time wherein his mother and I could have spoken about any number of horrifying things.

“We were just saying it’s time for me to head out.” I lied, and Diana’s sly smirk was enough of an indication for me to feel alright about it. It was funny—I’d just told her I never wanted to lie to him, but this one seemed pretty harmless. She deserved alone time with her son, after all.

“Do you want me to drive you?” He finally sat up, rubbing his face to try and get rid of the creases that had formed from the pillow’s texture.

I laughed at the question because he was so obviously not in a position to drive. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten an Uber after leaving his place, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. At least this time wasn’t a walk of shame.

“No, I’m fine. You stay here and spend time with your mom. Awake, this time.” I warned, poking him on the nose and earning a playful giggle from the grown man at my side. “She came a long way. She deserves it.”

He quickly got me back, grabbing my face and pulling me forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. And as much as I would have preferred one on the lips, I was grateful for his sudden modesty in front of his mother. It still felt strange.

“Okay. I love you. Drive safe please. And tell me when you get home.” He instructed as I nodded along, already having memorized the speech from every time I’d ever left him.

“Of course.” I murmured through a somewhat embarrassed pout before I got up and grabbed my things.

Before I made my way to the door, I stopped, turning to see Spencer take the seat beside his mother. She took his hand, but she looked at me. I thought about hugging her but knew that Spencer’s company was far superior to mine, and that every second I distracted her was one less she got with him. So, I settled for a wave and a smile.

“Goodnight Diana. Thanks for the talk.”

“Goodnight.” She returned, with a contented smile washing over her as her son rested his head on her shoulder. The final image of the two of them happy in each other’s company was enough to satisfy me until the next time I saw him. Because, like we’d just discussed, he was happy, and that was all that mattered.

As I opened the door to leave, she spoke again. “Thank you.” She said, and I knew she was talking about more than the conversation.

“Anytime.”

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| Part 19 |

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