#even if my eyes are falling closed despite waking up three hours ago

[the-travelling-witch]

here’s another poll+ a glimpse of what’s floating around my drafts bc wow i want to write all of this but where do i start >///<

[redroomreflections]

II HANDS II HEAVEN 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

3/5 (even though we know it's more than likely this will be longer)

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

Word Count: 3.8k words

Natasha's eyes fluttered open, her body drenched in a hot sweat. A dull ache pulsed through her left shoulder as she instinctively reached out to the headboard for support. Rubbing her shoulder, she squinted at the dim glow of the old alarm clock resting on the nightstand between the double beds. The numbers indicated it was just 11 pm—she hadn't been asleep for long.

As Natasha tried to shake off the grogginess of sleep, she realized something felt off. The hot sweat clinging to her skin and the soreness in her shoulder give her an uneasy feeling. She leaned over in bed, adjusting her eyes to the nightlight to see your covers were thrown back with no sight of you at all. Interesting. She figured you couldn’t have gone too far. You didn’t need a babysitter or someone watching over your shoulder. You’re a skilled spy just as she is. There was no need for her to worry. 

With a sigh, Natasha swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through her damp hair. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep easily now, not with that nagging feeling gnawing at her mind. She decided to get up, maybe a glass of water or a short walk around the building would help clear her head.

But as she stood, her gaze fell on the window. Her curiosity got the best of her as she moved closer to the window. She noticed a small figure seated by the poolside, an unusual sight considering it was late at night and the pool area was closed. Squinting, Natasha observed an even smaller flicker of light coming from the person's lips—a cigarette. It’s you. How long had you been down there?

—-----------------

The peacefulness of the night enveloped you as you sat by the pool, the soft glow of the pool lights casting eerie shadows that distorted the shapes of the surroundings. With one hand propped on your knee, you idly kicked your toes into the water, feeling the gentle waves ripple beneath your feet. The pull of the cigarette between your lips offered a momentary calm as your mind wandered.

Thoughts swirled in your head—about the mission, about your time as an Avenger, about the mysterious meaning of life's purpose.

"Couldn't sleep?" Natasha's voice broke the silence as she approached, her footsteps barely audible except for the faint shuffle of her flip-flops against the damp concrete.

"Nah, I don't usually," You replied, exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air as you took another puff of the cigarette. Tilting your head back, you watched as the smoke dispersed in the wind.

"Did I wake you when I left?" You asked. You pressed the cigarette into the concrete before twirling it in your hands. 

“No,” Natasha said. 

"Good," You nodded, acknowledging Natasha's unspoken disapproval at the sight and smell of the cigarette. "Don't worry, I threw the pack away," you reassured her, hoping to alleviate any concerns she might have about your habits. 

Natasha offered a small, understanding smile. "Thanks," she said softly, appreciating the gesture. Despite her reservations about the habit, she knew you were making an effort, and that meant a lot to her. At least she knew she could trust you to be professional about this mission. 

“I’ve been on missions before,” You confessed quietly. 

"I know," Natasha replied, her tone gentle yet firm. "But that doesn't mean it's easy every time. We all have our ways of coping." 

“Why are you being so cool all of a sudden?” You turned to her with suspicious eyes. “Less than eight hours ago you practically hated my guts. You’ve barely even looked my way the past three months.”

Natasha sighed, her expression softening. "I know, and I'm sorry," she admitted, meeting your gaze with honesty. "Sometimes it takes a wake-up call to realize we need to set aside differences and support each other. We're a team, after all." She paused, searching for the right words. "I guess I just realized that life's too short for grudges, especially in our line of work."

“Grudges are what fuel me,” You shrugged. “I have a few people on my list that certainly deserve that.” 

Natasha nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I get it," she replied. 

Natasha settled herself beside you, maintaining a comfortable distance, yet close enough to feel the subtle ripples of the water as she dipped her feet in. There was a quiet understanding between you, as neither of you had anything left to say. 

“My favorite position is cowgirl,” You suddenly said. “Not for me for the other person.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the unexpected comment, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She chuckled softly before replying, "Well, that's certainly... a candid confession." She shook her head with a playful grin. "I'll remember that, though I'm not sure it's pertinent to our current situation."

“It is,” You glanced over at her. “We’ll probably be one of the only lesbian couples. Which means weird fetishizations and probing questions. Maybe even a game of truth or drink. Adults at resorts are unhinged.” 

"You might have a point there," She conceded. “Give me the rundown on the dossier.”

You took a deep breath before launching into the details of the dossier. "Alright," you begin, "Shady Corners, as the name suggests, is a high-end resort nestled just outside of Miami in the Bay Harbor Islands. It’s owned by, Ilanka and Maxim Belinsky, it's known for catering to the elite, offering luxurious amenities and discreet services."

You leaned in closer, your voice lowering as you delved into the more clandestine aspects. "There’s a darker side to Shady Corners which is the entire reason for us. Rumors about the Belinskys' involvement in illicit activities, from money laundering to connections with underground cartels."

"Apparently," you continue, "guests have reported strange occurrences in the resort's secluded corners—mysterious meetings, people disappearing, and several break-ins, all hushed up by the Belinskys themselves. Couples keep checking in since it’s such a popular destination with a history behind it."

Natasha listened intently, her eyes narrowing as she took in the information. "Sounds like we've got our work cut out for us," she remarked. 

“Indeed we do,” You sighed. “We should get some sleep.” 

“I’m fine with staying here a little while longer.” 

You nodded in understanding. "Alright," you replied. 

Hour 12 

A few short hours later, you found yourselves back on the road, with you taking the wheel this time. Natasha's unease was noticeable as you bobbed and weaved through the traffic, your driving style more assertive than she was used to. With each swift maneuver to pass SUVs and trailers, Natasha's grip tightened on the door handle, her knuckles turning white with tension. 

You couldn't help but notice her discomfort, and though you tried to reassure her that you had everything under control, her nerves seemed to get the better of her. 

“Do you understand speed limits?” She tersely asked as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder. 

You glanced over at Natasha, noticing the edge in her tone as she asked about speed limits. Despite her brevity, you couldn't help but feel amusement at her concern. "Of course I do," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder. "But sometimes, you just gotta keep up with the flow of traffic, you know?" 

Natasha's grip on the door handle tightened even more, and she shot you a disapproving look. "That's not an excuse to break the law," she retorted, her voice filled with frustration. "We have to be responsible drivers, especially on long trips like this."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit annoyed by her lecturing. "Relax, Natasha," You said "We'll get there in one piece, I promise." 

“I would like to live to see thirty,” Natasha commented, tightening her seatbelt around her midsection. 

“No way you’re being truthful about your age right now,” You flicked on your indicator, laying on the horn for the driver in front of you as they moved at a turtle’s pace. 

You could sense Natasha's annoyance as she defended her age, her frown deepening. "I'm twenty-nine," She stated firmly. "Do I need to show you a birth certificate to confirm that? What makes you think I'm older?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips. "Relax, Natasha," You teased. "I was just saying, you seem a bit uptight for someone your age. But hey, maybe that's just part of your charm." 

Natasha rolled her eyes, unamused by your comment. "Gee, thanks," she muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. It was clear she wasn't in the mood for jokes. “I’m far from uptight.”

You furrowed your brow, considering her words for a moment. "Well, since you're so sure, let's take a little trip down memory lane, shall we?" you challenged. 

"Remember when we missed that turnoff and you practically had a meltdown?" you began, counting off on your fingers. "Or how about when I accidentally spilled coffee on the map and you acted like it was the end of the world? It is crazy that we’re using a map anyway when there’s a perfectly good GPS right here on the dashboard. Unless you’re testing me. I thought you trusted that I was a good spy."

“Trust is a strong word,” Natasha shook her head. “What’s that training like anyway? Coming through a government agency.” 

"It's... intense," You replied, your tone guarded as you skirted around the topic. "But it's nothing like the Red Room if that's what you're thinking."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, not wanting to delve too deep into your past. The memories of your training were still fresh in your mind, and you preferred not to think about them. "Let's just say it involves a lot of rigorous training and a fair share of close calls," you added cryptically, hoping to steer the conversation away from your own experiences.

“A close enough call to have a four-inch scar on your back?” Natasha tilted her head. 

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by Natasha's astute observation. "Well, you've got quite the eye for detail," you replied with a forced chuckle, trying to deflect her question. You shifted in your seat, a hint of discomfort creeping into your expression. "Unless you’re also ready to discuss the scars you have too?” 

“Touche’,” Natasha sighed. 

You raised an eyebrow, shifting the focus of the conversation with a swift change of topic. "So are you and Rogers a thing?" you asked, a sly grin spreading across your face. If there was going to be anyone in the hot seat, it needed to be her. It was about time you made the Black Widow uncomfortable.

Natasha's expression remained neutral. She paused for a moment, considering her response carefully before replying, "Steve and I have a professional relationship, nothing more."

You pressed on, determined to push her buttons. "Sure, sure," you teased, leaning in slightly. "But I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more there."

Natasha's facade faltered for just a moment, a little bit of frustration crossing her features before she quickly regained her composure. "Believe what you want," she replied coolly, her tone leaving no room for further discussion on the matter. 

“Come on, it’s okay to say you’ve tapped that,” You egged her on. “Stop being so prissy for a second. It’s unbecoming.” 

Natasha's jaw tensed as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at your persistence. "I don't see how my personal life is any of your business," she replied sharply, her tone tinged with irritation. "And I certainly don't appreciate your crude insinuations."

You could sense her growing frustration, but you pressed on, determined to get a rise out of her. "Oh, come on, lighten up," you teased, leaning in closer. "It's not like anyone would blame you for going for the Captain. He's like the poster boy for good looks and heroism."

Natasha's gaze narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "I suggest you drop it before you say something you'll regret," she warned, her voice low and measured. It was clear she had reached her limit. 

“Ohh, I’m shaking in my boots,” You rolled your eyes. “At first the pressure was on me. Be more like Natasha. Take notes from Natasha. Ask Natasha for help. We can't even hold a simple conversation.” 

Natasha's jaw tightened at your sarcastic remark, her frustration is evident in her expression. "I never asked for you to be like me," she retorted, her tone clipped. "And if you're feeling pressured, that's on you, not me."

You could sense the tension between you escalating, and you knew you had hit a nerve. But instead of backing down, you continued to push, fueled by a mix of defiance and annoyance. "Oh, please," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Don't act like you haven't enjoyed being put on that pedestal. It's not like you haven't reveled in being everyone's golden girl."

Natasha's eyes flashed with annoyance, her patience wearing thin. "That's enough," she stated firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I won't be dragged into your petty games. If you have a problem with me, say it to my face instead of hiding behind snide remarks." 

“I don’t have a problem with you,” You began. “It’s the simple fact that you’re committed to this whole mean girl serious chick schtick. You’ve insulted me fifteen times this morning without holding your breath or thinking about it. I simply want to know what’s up. So I’m asking? Last night we were cool. This morning it’s giving me an entirely new personality.”

“So, to get back at me you imply that I’m sleeping with my teammate?”

The accusation hung in the air, heavy with tension, as Natasha processed your words. 

"Implying? No," You retorted. "I merely observed a dynamic between teammates. If you took it as an insult, that's on you."

“I think you’re jealous,” Natasha commented. 

Your response was swift, fueled by a mixture of frustration and defiance. "Jealous?" you echoed incredulously, a flash of indignation in your eyes. "Of what, exactly?" Natasha's comment caught you off guard, the accusation striking a nerve. "I'm not jealous," you countered, your voice tinged with irritation. "I just don't appreciate being undermined and belittled at every turn."

There was a tense silence between you, the air thick with unspoken tension. Natasha's expression remained impassive, but there was a glimmer of challenge in her eyes, daring you to continue the confrontation.

“Jealous of that fact that I was welcomed into the group based on merit and skills alone,” Natasha gloated. “I didn’t need my government daddy to put a word in for me.” 

Natasha's words stung, hitting a nerve deep within you. You clenched your jaw, struggling to maintain your composure in the face of her taunting.

"Merit and skills alone, huh?" you replied through gritted teeth, your tone laced with bitterness. "Funny, considering the lengths you've gone to to prove yourself at every turn."

But you swallowed your pride, forcing yourself to remain calm despite the urge to lash out. With a tight-lipped smile, you met Natasha's gaze head-on, refusing to let her see how deeply her words had wounded you.

"Congratulations," You replied tersely, your voice cold and clipped. "I'm glad you're so proud of yourself. Now let's focus on the task at hand, shall we?"

The silence went on for a few seconds longer before you scrunched your nose. 

“And government Daddy?” You frowned. “Who the hell do you think is my dad?”

Natasha's expression remained impassive, her gaze steady as she delivered her next words with a calculated calmness. "I don't know," she replied evenly, "but I wouldn't be surprised if it's someone like Ross."

The mention of Ross's name sent a chill down your spine, stirring up memories of past encounters and the uneasy alliance you had with him. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself from him, his shadow seemed to loom over you like a specter, a constant reminder of the ties that bound you to the government.

“Holy Fuck,” You clenched your fists, struggling to contain the anger bubbling within you. "Ross?" you scoffed, your tone dripping with disdain. "He's nothing but a manipulative bureaucrat with his own agenda. I have no ties to him, and I certainly don't need him to vouch for me."

“Why is his name riddled all over your file then?” 

You felt a knot form in your stomach at Natasha's question, a sinking feeling settling in as you grappled with how much she knew about your past. "I... I don't know," you replied, your voice strained with uncertainty. "Maybe it's just... paperwork. I've had dealings with him in the past, but that doesn't mean he's my... my father."

Despite your attempt to brush off the implications, Natasha's piercing gaze bore into you, her scrutiny unrelenting. "You can't just dismiss it like that," she insisted, her tone firm. "There's a reason his name keeps popping up in your file."

You shook your head firmly, dispelling any notion of familial ties between you and Ross. "No, not because we're related," you asserted, your voice resolute. "I've made it clear before—I have no familial connection to Ross."

Natasha regarded you with a scrutinizing gaze, her expression unreadable. "Then why is his name so intertwined with your file?" she pressed, her tone insistent.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for Natasha's reaction to your explanation. "Spectra was deeply connected with the CIA," you began, your voice steady despite the lingering frustration. "Ross helped me out with some intel. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Natasha regarded you with a thoughtful expression, her gaze probing as she considered your words. "Is that all it was?" she asked, her tone cautious. "Or was it part of a larger plan to spy on the Avengers?"

You shook your head, the weight of Natasha's suspicion weighing heavily on you. "No," you replied firmly, meeting her gaze head-on. "I would never betray the team like that. Ross may have his own agenda, but I'm not a pawn in his game."

As Natasha continued to scrutinize you, a glimmer of realization crossed her features. "So what's the deal?" she asked, her voice softening slightly as she searched your eyes for the truth. "You're not exactly the type to strike up a deal with Ross without a good reason."

"It's complicated," You admitted. "But after Spectra's downfall, I was left vulnerable. Ross and Tony offered me protection, a way to defect from the shadows and start fresh."

Natasha's brow furrowed in understanding, though there was a hint of skepticism in her expression. "And what do they get out of it?" she pressed, her tone cautious.

You sighed heavily, knowing that Natasha wouldn't let up until she had all the answers. "Information," you confessed, the weight of your betrayal heavy on your conscience. "About Spectra.” 

There was a moment of silence as Natasha processed your words, the gravity of your situation settling over you like a suffocating blanket. 

“You’re an informant?” Natasha breathed. She knew it. She couldn’t believe this. 

You nodded solemnly, meeting Natasha's gaze with a heavy heart. "Yes," you admitted, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a dark cloud. "I'm an informant."

Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her disbelief palpable as she struggled to come to terms with the revelation. "I knew it," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Thank you, Kim Possible for knowing it all,” You rolled your eyes. 

“Who’s Kim Possible?” 

“And you’re still telling me you’re under thirty,” You mumbled. You rolled your eyes at Natasha's response, unable to resist a sarcastic retort

You couldn't help but chuckle at her bewilderment. "She's a fictional character from an old cartoon," you explained. "Always saving the day and solving mysteries. Thought you might appreciate the comparison."

“So, you gained immunity for your crimes then in exchange for information?” Natasha deduced. 

“Something like that,” You shrugged. “I’m an Avenger though because of my skills. I could have gone into a witness protection program or something.” 

There was a moment of silence as Natasha absorbed your words, the weight of your choices hanging heavily in the air between you. "I understand," she replied finally, her tone softening with understanding. 

“Do you? Because it seems like you want to use my past against me every chance you get,” You eased up on the accelerator. “I was a teen when I became a pawn for Spectra. They weren’t the cleanest government agency. None of them are. You may have involuntarily joined the Red Room but it’s not like I had much of a choice either. I was a poor kid from Jersey with no money or family. I did what I had to do to survive.” 

“I do understand,” Natasha nodded. 

“Look can we make a deal,” You sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Can we just be cordial? We don’t have to be friends. I’m not expecting us to have sleepovers and braid each other's hair. I would simply like to make this work so that we get what we need out of this mission.” 

Natasha regarded you for a moment, her expression thoughtful as she considered your proposal. After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly. "Agreed," she replied, her voice firm. "Cordial it is."

You offered her a small nod of gratitude, relieved to have reached a truce, however tentative it may be. She reached into the backseat, grabbing something you couldn't see before you realized it was the magazine from yesterday. 

“What is your favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy and are you satisfied with the frequency you receive it?” 

You blinked in surprise at Natasha's unexpected question, taken aback by its intimacy. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, unsure how to respond to such a personal inquiry.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself before replying, "Um, well, I guess my favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy would be... hugs? I suppose?" You offered a hesitant smile, feeling a bit awkward under Natasha's scrutinizing gaze. "I’m not really comfortable with a lot of physical touch. For personal reasons. And as for the frequency... I guess it's alright. I don't really think about it much."

Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable as she tucked the magazine back into its place. "Good to know," she remarked casually, as if she hadn't just asked you one of the most personal questions imaginable.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a bit exposed by the exchange. But despite the awkwardness, you couldn't help but appreciate Natasha's attempt at breaking down the walls between you, even if it was in her own unconventional way. With a small nod of acknowledgment, you turned your attention back to the road ahead of you.

------> part 4

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [2]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [3] previous chapter: [1] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 6.7k

status: in progress

author's note: this chapter was for fun- i have the 1975 on repeat so i had to lmao. i kinda wanna do a slow burn because i don't want to make anything happen so fast. and pedro was at the oscars a few hours ago so why not post another chapter for him :) not edited.

You hated working weekends.

Something about waking up extremely early on a day that was supposed to be your day off irks you. Why have a scheduled rest day if you're just going to be scheduled to come in? It made zero sense, especially since you were only given a two hour notice before while sleeping.

No pay, clothes, gifts could ever make you happy after being called in at 5am for a 7am shift-

"Venti iced white chocolate mocha with oat milk, vanilla sweet cold foam, caramel drizzle, and light ice as always," Pedro listed as he handed you the coffee.

"Oh my god, I think I love you," you blurted out, staring at the cup in awe.

"That was fast, I see now why you're single," Pedro replied, giving you the side eye. "And soon diabetic."

Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of the coffee before shaking your head. "Not like that, you moron," you scoffed as he glared at you. "I love coffee too much- and who says I'm single."

"Think of it as your reward for waking up to the call," he joked as you just stared at him annoyed. The one time you turn off your do not disturb and this happens. "Your loneliness says otherwise."

"I am not lonely!" you gasp as he shrugs. "I'll have you know I am dating-"

"If you dare say Matty Healy I will personally push you in a bush-," Pedro declares, stopping you as you try to interject. "-and won't help you back up."

Huffing, you cross your arms as he laughs at the sight of your defeat. He knows you too well considering the fact you only met two months ago.

In fact, these two months were probably the best ones you have had all year. Not only did you experience some awesome moments you're sure you'll never get to witness again, but you got along with a lot of special people.

What made things even better was the fact that you got along with your boss because who knows where you would've ended up if Finn was a total douche- which he wasn't. But he did have his moments where he took your kindness for weakness- like asking you to come in for shift on a Saturday.

One thing that definitely advanced would have to be your relationship with Pedro. Nearly best friends is what you two were typically called on a normal day on set by how close you've become.

The nearly part added because nothing could ever come between his relationship with Bella, or Bellie in his own words. And because Jules always made sure to tell the jokesters that she was not giving up her position just yet.

But when it came to work, Pedro was always there for you. Considering he's been in the industry since before you were even born, which he yelled at you once when you joked, he was the best support.

He would even ask you what you were assigned to do and tell you specifically what was wanted without you even asking- even finding ways to physically assist before being caught and sent back to his actual job.

There were also the constant times where he would spam you with iMessage game requests to 8 ball and ignore you after beating him three times in a row, claiming his phone died despite your messages being sent through.

The only thing that made today better was that he was here because who knows how boring the day would have been if you were spent hanging with the technicians who; in fact, did not appreciate the countless times you dropped a mic.

"Why didn't Jules get called in?" you questioned as he turned up the computer brightness you were using. "That girl never wakes up early but I kid you not, she was playing minecraft on her computer when I was leaving."

"I love minecraft," Pedro sighed.

"I do too, but Jules always sends the creepers to my house," you complain. "They always destroy my garden."

"I could only imagine the devastation in your eyes," he dramatically exhales as you nudge him. "But I think it's because you're more...attentive? Not saying that she isn't, but she sure loves to talk about Jersey Shore in between takes."

"She's been binge-watching all the seasons after work."

The conversation ended once he was caught again by one of the producers and lured out of the office you were in. Initially, he searched around the studio and found you to gift the coffee, but he stayed because he did not want to sit on the makeup chair for another round of a drastic look being applied to his face- especially if you weren't there to pester him.

As for you, once clocked in Finn managed to have you scan after emails as a way to apologize for the call in. Apparently, one of his assistants called out so he decided to use you as their replacement since he couldn't find the time to sit down in a cozy office and do so.

But you were totally not complaining.

That only lasted you about two hours before you were finished and terribly bored.

Throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash, you decided to walk around in hopes of finding something better to do or else you would've fallen asleep on the desk.

You would've if you weren't scared of the thought of a director finding and; consequently, firing you.

Hearing a loud noise, you quickly averted your eyes where your ears were signaling where the noise came from. Lightly jogging behind a curtain, your eyes widened to a sight of a desk on its side and a man hovering over it.

"Joon?!" you exclaim, running over to find him lowly panting, trying to remain his coolness as you began inspecting him to find any injuries.

"I'm fine," he calmly replied, using his dimpled smile as a way to reassure this but you didn't believe him. That was a loud drop.

"Why in the world are you lifting a desk that surely isn't less than 30 pounds?" you glare as he chuckles at the fake anger you poorly tried displaying.

"One of the technicians asked me to bring it out."

"And did you forget that your back would disagree?"

He shuts his mouth for a second, loss for words at your comeback. "I couldn't say no," he shyly replied. "I didn't want to have to pull out my medical forms explaining why I can't lift a table."

Feeling your face sink, you helped him stand straight as he glanced down at the fallen table. "You should have called for help then- everybody would need help for a gigantic table like this."

He only nodded in response, making you feel bad. You felt like you were lecturing him, technically you were, but you didn't want to find out in the future the reason he stopped attending work was because he pulled his back again.

"I'll drag this out," you declare as he tried slapping you hands away from it.

"It's too heavy for you!" he argued.

"Which is why I said drag," you countered back, ignoring his pleas as you somehow managed to lift the table back to its standing positioning.

Walking around it, you bent your back as you began pushing it around the curtain as Joon followed your position, crouching next to you for the extra support.

If it wasn't for the film crew being around the floor, you were sure you would have passed out right then and there. But you couldn't let them know how weak you were.

"And that's how teamwork makes the dream work," you announce, causing Joon to giggle before giving you a high-five as the two of you stand up from your bent posture.

Joon was another person you got along with incredibly well. For one, you guys were the duo out of all the interns. Every job you had that included another person, he was always there.

There was also the many times the two of you, and Jules of course, would carpool together to get home. It turned out Joon was also friends with some of your college classmates so he was always the only person from work who joined you guys for the random nights of cheesy movies and boring games while eating takeout with your other friends.

Despite hanging out for so long, you felt dense when someone called him Namjoon one time, even turning your head around for this Namjoon, completely oblivious to the fact that Joon was connected to Namjoon.

To be fair, he never went by his full name claiming that his nickname sounded more 'chill,' or whatever that meant.

Other than that, you were sure he was your other best friend. Well, after Jules and maybe Pedro. They were probably on the same level if you had to arrange them- not that friends had to ranked.

"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Joon called out as the two of you walked off the stage back to the curtains.

"For what?"

He sent you a surprised look, scaring you because is there something crazy happening that you had to prepare for? "Do you have your phone?"

Patting your back pocket, you shook your head. "I think I left it in my bag. Why? I'm about to cry if you don't tell me," you impatiently whine.

"What kind of fan you are," he simply responds, causing you to widen you eyes.

Immediately jumping on him, you shake his shoulders repeatedly. "What is the 1975 doing?! You must tell me or I swear to the gods I will bust your kneecaps and make you crawl for help."

He bursts out laughing at your threatening begs, trying to calm down your jumps by grabbing your shoulders to hold you. "You're violent."

"And you'll need surgery if you don't hurry it up."

Tapping your shoulder to calm down, you slowly do so. "3 o'clock is when their tickets go on sale for their upcoming tour, one of the dates being in New York City."

You could have sworn you were about to faint if it weren't for Joon pulling out his phone to show you you still had time to mentally prepare for the combat you were about to enter.

That's what ticketmaster was, a war zone.

"How was I not aware of this?!" you cry out, internally panicking about what you were going to do. You can't miss out on this concert, you just had to see these British people in person in order for your life to be complete.

"They did just post the news half an hour ago," he admitted. "Good for you for not being addicted to your phone."

Scowling at him, he quickly closed his mouth as you went over all the things you needed to do to prepare. "Wait, can we go together? None of my guy friends like them."

If you weren't in your own world mentally planning how you were going to beat all these teenage girls online, you would have noticed Pedro walking up to the two to you. But you didn't because your mind couldn't stop thinking about Matty Healy singing 'She's American' because you were indeed American.

"Why does she look deranged?" Pedro questioned, standing a few feet away from you. "Oh no, did Matty Healy die?"

Glaring at him, you ignore his irrelevant comment and face back to Joon. "You and me, my place straight after work. Got it?"

He nods, already in game mode because he knows how bad the two of you need to witness this concert.

Pedro exchanged a crazed look between the two of you, assuming his own ideas as to what you meant. "You're having a party and didn't invite me?" he tried joking to understand the conversation a bit more.

"No time for fooling around, Pedro," you state, grabbing Joon by his arm and making your way back to the office to search for your phone. "We have important business to settle, see you around!"

He watched the way Joon and you walk away hurriedly and wonders if you have a thing for the boy. It would make sense right? Joon was around the same age and he saw you guys work together all the time.

Shaking his head, he walks back to the stage trying to not overthink whatever was flowing in his head. But he couldn't help but question why he was never invited to your place? He instantly rejected that idea, he was twice your age. There's no way that was realistically appropriate.

However, you were friends- so wasn't it hypothetically okay?

No, there was no way he was really debating this. It's completely understandable why he didn't need to be invited over and Joon could.

But how many times did Joon come over?

Stop. His thoughts were confusing him and he needed a distraction. He wasn't going to let another man make him envy of where his friendship stood with you because there is no way he's jealous Joon might take his close friend status.

Because that's who you were to him, a close friend.

After another hour of working with Joon secretly about the tickets while emailing more people who Finn ordered, you two were finally cut for the day.

And luckily you still had two hours before the tickets went on sale.

"I need to grab my coat I left backstage, meet me outside?" Joon asked and you nodded, waving him off as you put on your own coat and bag.

Sprinting out of the office, you didn't expect to fall on the floor by the the person who ran into you. Well, the person fell to the floor while you comfortably landed on top of them, their arms wrapping around you.

"If you missed me that much you should've just texted me sooner to drop by," you heard the culprit chuckle, immediately making you shake their secured hands off your waist to stand.

"That was definitely not the case," you laugh, sticking a hand out to help him get up.

He raises a brow while staring at your hand before taking it, instantly pulling you back down with him. Falling over again, you slowly slip into his arms before finding your balance and giving up on helping him.

"How adorable of you to think you can lift me up," he grins, pulling his own weight up.

"I would love to stay and chat," you start, before looking past him and back again. "But I have something very important to do."

Trying to move around him, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder. "That's why I came to be a generous person and offer you a ride- so you can be home faster and do whatever you needed to do with Josh."

"His name's Joon."

"That's what I said," he ignores you're doubtful glance. "I can take you guys to your apartment."

Thinking it over, it would make it easier and faster to get home and prepare for the sale. If you would've taken a cab and subway it would have been an hour, with him it'll be half that.

"Fine," you spit out and watch as his face lights up. "But I am not owing you anything, you offered."

"Love how two months ago you would've begged the world for me," he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh how comfortable you've gotten with me."

"I don't want to hear it," you shun him, walking past him as he makes a silly face behind your back. "I can feel that!" He immediately stops, surprised you sensed it.

Maybe the two of you gotten a long too well.

"He's gonna drive us to my place, it'll be faster," you quickly explain to Joon who just nods, happily smiling at Pedro who sends him a fast greeting.

Right as you walk through the parking garage and see the familiar black car, Pedro unlocks it before quickly pushing you into the passenger seat, ignoring your protests and slamming the door before you could slip out.

"Not cool," you utter once he buckles inside the driver's seat.

"Don't make me cry," he fake cries before pulling the car out and hitting the road back to your place.

Due to it being the weekend and everybody wanting to be social and outside for some reason, the streets were packed.

It didn't help that Pedro thought starting a deep conversation with Joon about why electric cars annoyed him, knowing damn well Joon loved the environment, was a good idea.

And Pedro's defense being because he loved the smell of gas made you want to slap him.

As if the heavens felt your annoyance, your wish was granted. You were finally in the front of your apartment complex with Pedro pulling up along the red curb. You would've fought him, but you were desperate to get inside as you barely had an hour left.

"Thanks, see you Monday!" you exclaim, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Let's go, Joon!"

Barely stepping a foot out, you heard Pedro begin talking. "Wait, what are you guys gonna do?"

"Very intense work," Joon stated before turning to you. "But we got this in the bag."

Pedro squints his eyes, curiously scanning your body language because he does not know what this very intense work meant.

Working out? Making out? What the hell was it?

"Of course we do, love has no limits," you declare, making Pedro cough as you grabbed Joon's arm. "Now, let's go!"

"What are you two going to eat?!" Pedro called out, making you heavily sigh and turn back around.

Faking a smile, you gritted your teeth. "Don't know. Maybe we'll cook or make Jules' grab food as we work."

He makes a face, not convinced he wants to let you guys leave. Now that he was here and his day was over with, he didn't want to be alone.

But he also didn't want to tell you he wanted to stay. He wanted you to invite him- but you weren't getting the hint. Or maybe you were, but you couldn't have him in the room while working with Joon.

"That's cool, did you know I make a killer chicken alfredo?" he speaks out, making you pull an interested face as you were very much not. "Especially with garlic bread."

"Make sure to make that once you get home, safe travels," you wave, trying to turn away but was once again stopped by his voice.

You could feel your kindness slowly leaving your body. Was this the day you would be arrested and charged for murder?

"You know what's the secret with making the pasta?" Pedro questions as Joon replies back a curious, "What?"

"The sauce!" he exclaims as you try to control yourself. He was definitely pushing your buttons but you had to stay calm- you had to.

Joon was too interested in the conversation Pedro was beginning, trying to ask what was in this mysterious sauce. You knew you had to interject or you would both be ticketless.

"Maybe you can tell us about this secretive sauce on Monday, when we next see you," you force a laugh, trying to slowly take a few steps back to inch towards the entrance doors. "We really have to g-"

"Why wait till Monday when I can tell you now?" he claps, getting reading to explain his recipe. "For starters, you need a thick, sauce that can sp-"

"Oh my god!" you squeal, causing both men to jump and stare at you in shock as you rambled on. "The parking structure is around the block, my number is 912- just park and come up! Let's go, Joon!"

With that, Joon and you ran inside and Pedro smiled to himself. His planned worked. He guessed the only way to get to you was by speaking nonsense until you gave in- he'll remember that in the future.

Rushing through your door, you took your coat off as Joon pulled his laptop out if his backpack and set it next to your desk.

You looked at it confusingly before asking, "you carry your laptop with you to work?"

"Duh, an intern should always be prepared for computer work," he replies as if it was the obvious rule we should all know.

Shrugging, you turned on your PC and immediately went to ticketmaster, finding that the tickets weren't going on sale until 35 minutes from now. "We still have time to breathe." That was until you heard light knocks on your door. "Spoke too soon."

Walking up to your door, you see that no one was out there.

That was until Pedro decided to jump out from the side and scare the living shit out of you.

"I'm not doing this," you glare, trying to slam the door on his face, but he forced his way in while laughing at the scream you exhaled before.

You stared at him with no expression as he fell to the floor, continuing to laugh as if your fear was the funniest thing in the world. Joon was even silently giggling in the corner, stopping when you made eye-contact with him.

Trying to find a bowl to fill with water so you could throw at him, your plans were interrupted when you heard your roommate's voice boom across the room.

"Who the fuck is making so much noise?! Some of us are trying to sleep- ah! Why is Mr. Boss here?" Jules' gasps, jumping behind the hallway wall and peeking only her head out, too embarrassed to show off her hello kitty pajamas.

"He's gonna make us some pasta with his secret sauce," Joon happily states as she just gives him a confused look.

"Plus, it's almost 3 in the afternoon...," Pedro adds, giving her a baffled look as to why she is barely waking up.

She just gives him an awkward glance before running back to her room, shutting the door. Saturday's were her day off, of course waking up after 5pm was normal.

"The time limit just turned green! Refresh to join the waiting room-" Joon began screeching, doing so on his computer as you jumped around Pedro to do the same on your PC.

Slowly walking up to where Joon was, Pedro began examining the situation you two were in. Reading over your computer screen, his face fell. "The 1975 2022 World Tour...were you guys seriously trying to buy concert tickets this whole time?!"

Joon and you exchanged innocent glances to one another, not sure if he was judging you for your dedication.

"No, we still are trying to buy tickets," you simply reply, pushing him away from your computer.

His negativity was bad luck.

"This is why you were rushing to get home? All for-"

"Be gone, pessimist. Your energy is not it," you frown, moving your game chair to block his view from your screen. "Joon, block your computer, we can't afford his cynical attitude to ruin our chances of making out with Matty Healy."

"Making out with Matty Healy? You still want that? How is he gonna notice you?" Pedro asks, trying hard not to laugh in your face.

You were quiet for a minute. It was just a crazy thing you said because of all the videos you had seen online whenever it was somebody's birthday or they were just a lucky fan in the front.

You weren't actually dedicated to kissing him, but you did wish.

Joon slowly raised his finger, pointing at Pedro. "You're famous, right? Maybe if you went he'll notice us?"

Eyes widening, Pedro quickly shook his head as you placed your hand over your mouth. He was right, maybe he wouldn't kiss you, but he would for sure meet you if he found out a famous actor with over a million followers on Instagram attended his show.

"Not a chance," Pedro declared, ignoring your puppy dog gaze as you just hoped doing it for long would make him so uncomfortable he would give in.

Nudging Joon, he followed your actions with the sad stare, the two of you in front of the poor actor, leaving him really no choice. You were even thinking about calling Jules out to help, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it by her state of looking homeless.

But if it were on a work day she would totally be in.

"You just look like a deformed bull terrier," he says, pulling a disgusted face. "It's kind of unattractive."

"What is that?" you urge, watching Joon hold a laugh.

"The target dog," Joon answers for you.

Shrieking, you smack Pedro in the arm. "My god, woman! You always hit me."

"You're coming with us to the concert," you announce, watching him roll his eyes. Before he could reject your demand, you beat him to it, "if you don't I'm never talking to you again."

"Please, I've been wishing for that for weeks now," he cheers. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I am busy the day they come."

Pulling yourself close to the computer, you check to see the day they were arriving. "So you're saying you aren't free November 7th?"

"Kid, that's basically a year from now. I can't guarantee anything."

"Damn, you're right," you frown, your mood going down. Joon's idea was pretty amazing, but just wrong timing since the concert was so far away. "You can leave now."

"And what about that famous chicken alfredo?" Pedro chuckled, finding your change in demeanor amusing. You must really love these indie boys.

You were about to reply when Joon intervened. "Oh my god! We are in the queue!"

Twisting your head, you could see the clock had hit 3 o'clock exactly. How did time go by that fast?

"Holy shit! Everybody disconnect from the house wifi on your phones! We can not have anything disturbing us!"

Pulling out your phone, you did what you ranted on and made sure Joon did the same. You even ran to Jules' door and banged on it until she confirmed she did so.

Running back to the computer, you could see there was still 983 people in front of you while Joon had 754. "Why is your computer going faster?"

"This laptop-," he sheepishly smiled. "-cost a fortune, but works like a charm."

Turning back to the screen, you saw the purple line move closer. Not even three minutes in and you only had 534 people left while Joon had 312.

You don't know what you did, but God was certainly rewarding you.

"You're honestly really weird," Pedro confessed, staring at your computer screen. "And sad."

"You would be if you were about to buy tickets to see the love of your life."

"I wouldn't pay anything, money can't buy love," Pedro insists, pulling a chair from your table and placing it in between Joon and you.

"That's very romantic," you swipe an imaginary tear from your cheek. "Save it for the cameras."

His jaw drops as you return back to your computer. In a few moments you were about to be inside the room and you were beyond scared. If you did not get these tickets you don't know how much longer you'll have to live.

"I'm in!" Joon shouts, causing you to jump to his screen.

Great, the two of you were going together anyway so it works out.

"Fuck, what's the presale code?!"

Placing your hands on your head as he begins to panic, you die inside. What the fuck were you going to do now? "Go on Twitter and check!"

To say Pedro was not intrigued would be a lie. It was very fascinating seeing how strongly engaged you were just for a damn ticket. To be honest, he thinks you would be great on a reality tv show- your expressions were just off the roof. He wonders if other people genuinely acted like you.

"It's probably something super simple, try 'thesound,'" you exclaim, watching as he typed right away but frowning when it denied it. "try 'somebodyelse.'"

After each attempt of every famous song they had, it was still wrong. What pissed you off even more was that fans were gatekeeping the code no matter how many times Joon and you tweeted for help.

Greedy little shits.

Eventually, your screen allowed you into the room as well. It was no use, you didn't have the code. "I think I'm going to have a panic attack," you clutch your chest as you felt your lips quiver from sadness. "We were so close."

Pedro just stared at you not believing how miserable you suddenly became. Is this how easily young people let concerts take over themselves? Do people really idolize artists that much to the point where they feel depressed if they don't get tickets?

He shivered imagining how BTS fans dealt with this pressure.

"Let me try," Pedro speaks up, pushing you to the side as he began typing away on your keyboard.

It never hurts to try, right?

Innocently clicking away, your face fell as the check mark appeared, unlocking the room for you. "He got in!"

Hurriedly jumping to the screen, Joon urged Pedro to do the same as you began searching through the seats. Instantly clicking on the floor, you hit the continue button for 2 seats.

Feeling your nerves kick in, your hands begin to shake as you typed in the needed information in order to complete your order. But once you pressed 'place your order," your world stopped.

Ignoring your surroundings, you only focused on the screen. Quietly praying, you're sure Joon and Pedro could hear your desperate requests to the ruler of the universe to grant you your biggest wish: these tickets.

You Got The Tickets To The 1975!

Feeling weightless, you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors were going to call the cops. Joon looked over, doing the same cheers once he realized you two were set for the show.

Jumping out of your chair, you practically tackled Pedro to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted him numerous kisses all over his cheeks.

For once, you were happy you managed to outlast his annoying-self.

"I will forever be grateful for your existence!" you cheer, squeezing his poor body in your arms as he tried to remain in balance, laughing at how nice you suddenly became.

Planting a big kiss on his forehead, you turn to Joon and jump together in happiness. You couldn't believe you managed to score tickets, especially floor seats.

"Wait, what was the code?" Joon asked, pulling away from you and turning to Pedro who tried containing his grin.

"The 1975."

You dropped you arms, feeling incredibly stupid. How could you not write their name as a code attempt? It was shorter than 'it's not living if it's not with you.'

"Joon, we are officially the two dumbest people in New York City," you confess as he slowly nods before stopping.

"Not dumber than Jules though."

You heard her door open before her loud yelling appeared, "Well fuck you too!"

Ignoring her, you jump to Pedro who had his gaze on you already. "Welp! Since we got that out of the way, why don't you make some of that chicken alfredo with your sauce."

He smiled before realizing what you were asking. "What sauce?"

You roll your eyes before hitting his side. "The secretive one you were bothering us about."

Pedro bounces up once he understands what he had mentioned earlier. "Oh, right. That one," he chuckles. "I was kidding, I just wanted to see what you guys were dong."

Your face falls as Joon lets out a sad sigh. "Man, I really wanted to taste how thick and creamy that sauce was."

Pedro just tilts his head to Joon before pointing at the door. "It was great hanging with you guys though! Hey, at least we all worked together for those tickets! I'm gonna head out now, have a good rest of your evening!"

With that, he awkwardly backs away and opens the door, quickly running out before you could argue why he would lie about such a thing.

Before you could process what had just happened, he quickly opens the door again and peeps his head inside. "By the way, you don't actually like a deformed bull terrier," he clarifies. "I was kidding, maybe a cavalier king charles spaniel, those are precious."

And again, he runs out. This time, your face was pretty noticeable when it came to how much redness was present. You cringed to yourself, the littlest of compliments always made you blush- it made you sick.

Joon and you exchanged confused looks to each other. Pedro was a very interesting man.

"What is a cavalier king charles spaniel?" you lightly question.

"The dog in the arms of an angel commercial," Joon simply replies.

Reaching his car, Pedro quickly unlocked the door before jumping in. He felt his heart beating fast, not sure why it was doing so.

Was it because he adored how committed you were for those damn tickets? Maybe. Or how your eyes sparkled once you realized you got the right code? Possibly.

How you kissed him and pulled him in close? Most definitely.

But he would never reveal such a thing to anyone. People would take it wrong and believe he had feelings for you. All he had were feelings one would have for another close friend like you.

His heart was beating because he was excited for you, that's all.

Walking around the studio Monday morning was exhausting. Not only did you pull an all-nighter Saturday night because you were too happy to fall asleep, but you only managed to gain a few hours of sleep on Sunday as you were too busy trying to finish homework due that same night.

"Are you alright? Do you need water?" you heard Bella worriedly ask as you pulled a hoodie over your head and walked near the snacks table.

"I need a pill that can wake me up."

"That could be arranged," she joked, stopping when you sent her a serious look. "Not by me, of course."

Bella managed to wake you up a little once she suddenly pulled out her phone and turned the flash on, flashing it all around your face. "Are you trying to make me blind?!"

"It's supposed to wake you up, is it working?" she grinned, still shoving her phone up your face.

Grabbing her wrist, she stops. "No."

"Damn, that sucks."

Somehow you managed to pull yourself together, walking to where the rest of the interns were once you heard all the directors call out for an urgent meeting.

Probably wanting one of you to run to the coffee shop for coffee as usual.

Seeing Pedro waving at you from the side of his cast's group, you smiled and returned it. He then proceeded to make a confused face, wondering why there was an emergency meeting being held.

You sent the same look, adding a shrug because you were feeling the same. You weren't aware about what was going on, but noticing how many people were present- it must be a big deal.

Finn walked in and stood near the director, sending you a smile that didn't look natural.

If anything it looked fake and...sad?

"A lot of you are probably wondering why I called everyone down here on this early morning," you hear one of the directors begin, making some people nod while others just patiently waited for him to continue. "Starting with wonderful news, we have just been given access to explore our visuals and proceed to try out different surroundings in regards to our planned perception for the series."

Hearing a few people clap, you do the same. You were glad that the set was upgrading, but what did they have to do with everyone?

"Unfortunately," you heard him begin, causing your breathe to hitch. "with locations being held in various places like Canada, we are going to have to make cuts."

Feeling your heart drop, you already knew who he was planning to remove. A big series like this can't send interns they don't care about out of the country for help and you sure as hell couldn't afford to pay for the travels yourself if it came down to it.

You didn't want to make eye-contact with Bella or Pedro and feel their condolences through their expressions. All you wanted to do was be cut already so you could go home and cry at home.

To cry over a job was pathetic, but considering how much you learned and loved to manage it for the past couple months, it was sad to let it go.

As the director went down the list of small departments he planned on letting go, he finally made it to yours. "As for the interns, we are especially grateful for the hard work you brought to this set and trying to fill not only our needs but the casts. If we have any open positions in the near future we will make sure to grant you priority, and if you ever need letters of recommendations for your future activities, I am sure Finn would be able to handle that behind closed doors..."

You zoned out after that, not really caring what else was being said. It was the typical its not us excuse, claiming the company couldn't provide for all of their workers yet were able to spend millions of dollars on each location and its visuals.

The meeting was over when you noticed the directors and producers giving a final sympathetic look to the crowd, bowing their heads before walking back to where their offices were located.

"I feel like crying," you heard Jules sniffle, patting her under eye with her sweater. "But I took time on my eye makeup so I can't!"

Rubbing her shoulder, you tried to distract her from her tears coming out as Joon stood next to you guys, telling her funny spongebob jokes that she did not understand.

"Uh oh, Mr. Boss is coming. He's gonna make me cry, I can't hear his sorrow," Jules' explained, turning her back the other way.

"Hey, kids," you heard Pedro lightly say.

"The tears are coming out!" Jules' exclaimed, running away to the nearest bathroom while Joon and you looked at each other, feeling extremely bad for her.

"Sorry about that," Pedro awkwardly started, continuing once you shook off his unnecessary apology. "I just wanted to talk, see how you guys are handling the unfortunate news."

Joon was the first to speak, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who just lost his internship. "It sucks, but at least it was for an understandable reason. Traveling costs money. Plus, we go to school here, we can't just leave."

You nodded, agreeing with what he said. It was true, you should have known this job would've ended sooner than later, there was only so much you could have done inside a film studio.

The series was an apocalypse that needed feature more outside and environmental sets that looked deadly than a building that was only useful for inside takes.

"How about you?" He questions, sincere eyes following yours as you shrug.

"I am sad but that's the industry," you force out a small chuckle. "If you aren't cut at least once, you aren't gaining the full experience."

Right after you said that, you felt tears lining around the inner corner of your eyes. Looking down, you tru to contain yourself. "I'm going to go check up on Jules."

Reaching out for you, Pedro tries to console you but you were out of his reach in seconds. He hated the tears in your eyes and his job being the reason behind it.

He felt as if it were his fault for your departure when he knows he shouldn't.

It also didn't make him feel any better that Joon followed straight after you once you walked away. He knew he had to do something but he wasn't sure.

All he knew was that he would rather see you smile than cry.

[anonymousdisco]

How’d I get Isikia’d into Yandere Obey Me Chapter Ten-Unexpected Opportunity Part Three

(Y/N)’s POV:

It flippen hurt all over my body, but the pain was worth it. I meant what I said when I said I was willing to break my own bones to get what I want. At the end of the day the only thing that mattered was the plan. I couldn’t see glitch since I was busy pretending to be passed out but I used my thoughts to communicate. “What did they discuss when they left?”

“Exactly what you predicted. Although there is a new development that goes awry from your plans. Your other brothers are on their way.” Glitch explained to me.

“What?! There not supposed to know yet! The plan was to hide my injuries even further to increase the sucker punch of guilt they’d feel later!” I freaked out to Glitch mentally.

“I know. Will you move up the timeline?”

“Yes. I don’t have any other choice. It’ll take some adjustment and I’ll have to lie here pretending for a while then that I’m passed out. Bummer.” I sighed mentally preparing myself for a long haul. This was gonna suck. I can’t stand staying still.

It was not even ten minutes later when the door banged open and in came a flood of worried brothers. As I thought, they weren’t cruel, just traumatized by the loss of their other sister.

“Yo nurse! Explain this! Why is she just lying there looking half dead!” Mammons frantically whispered as loudly as he could without waking me from my supposed pass out. Truly a tusndere until the person he cared about is hurt.

“Please be quite while the patient rests. She is not well enough now to receive visitors. You may direct your questions to your Brother Lord Lucifer whom has been updated on the situation.” The nurse was about to usher them out when an idea struck me. Maybe I could shorten this pretend period.

I whimpered quietly, twitching in pain. I made sure to still seem passed out as one small little tear escaped my eyes. I couldn’t tell who did it but I felt a gentle almost scared hand brush against my cheek before holding my hand tightly.

It wasn’t till he spoke that I realized who it was given my eyes had to remain closed. “It’s okay (Y/N)…. Your big brothers are here now. We haven’t been the best but we’re ready to make that up to you. If anyone touches you again I’ll choke them to death.” What is it with Belphegor and murder via choking?

I made myself whimper in pain again despite it making me feel pathetic. I heard footstep approaching me before a nurse yelped. “Please unhand me. I need to give the patient something for pain that will make her rest easier as she recovers.”

“Next time ask before approaching our sister so carelessly.” Could Beelzebub really sound so… stern and cold? He wasn’t like that in the game. This made me feel a little uneasy. I felt a needle poke my skin and tried not to flinch from fear. Not long after sleep overtook me for real this time.

Satan POV:

I felt like I was burning. Like my skin itself was on fire. My vision was completely red. I had to be locked in my room by my brothers given what a rampage I had been on. It wasn’t until an hour ago I had been let out. 

Three days. She had been sleeping for three days already. We’ve been following Barbatos’s directions on how to infuse her with magic but it hasn’t helped her at all yet. 

It didn’t matter how many times I went under the castle to Barbatos’s torture room to obliterate that filth that hurt her. The rage still buzzed through my veins. The worst part was the anger was mostly direct at me. I had no excuse for ignoring her. I hadn’t lost Lilith. I hadn’t had to watch my siblings fall to what for all they knew could have been certain death. I don’t even know why I did it.

This is all my fault. Even Lucifer hadn’t messed up as much as I did. A realization that just fueled my rage to another level. Shoot they’ll probably have to lock me up again till I’m calmer.

Asmodeus POV:

She looked like death when we barged into her patient room in the castle. She hadn’t improved since. It’s been three days. I did her hair in the picktails she likes. I didn’t realize she liked such cute things till now. We could have bonded over such things but I was a fool.

I thought I was too beautiful for misfortune to befall me, but I was wrong. This hurt. Seeing her pain hurt. She was constantly sedated for her comfort in healing, but sometimes she’d flinch in her sleep from pain anyways.

What are we going to do? How are we going to fix this? We did all those horrible neglectful things! She’d been only three thousand when we fell. Only three thousand…

Beelzebub POV:

I couldn't eat. Belphie kept trying to make me but I just couldn’t. The idea of eating after all I was responsible for made me nauseated. I didn’t dissect to fill the perpetual hunger I had after hurting my little sibling so much.

It wasn’t just my misery I felt. I could feel Belphie’s as well. He wouldn’t sleep no matter how comfortable I tried to help him feel. Not only was I a failure as a big brother, but also as a twin…

Belphie’s POV:

He wouldn’t eat, and I couldn’t sleep. We took a kind and caring individual, our own little sister, and then just neglected her. She shouldn’t have even fallen with us in the first place! This was all Lucifer’s fault! Sure we all shared some of the blame, but it was Lucifer’s idea to rebel. And it was his idea to reluctantly accept another sibling despite planning an uprising. He could’ve refused! That way she wouldn’t be lying there in a medically induced coma so her magic wouldn’t kill her.

I was worried about Beel. I hadn’t felt such self loathing from him since Lilith died… what was I going to do? All I knew was those bastards were gonna pay in blood for what they did.

Leviathan POV:

I sat by her side a lot these past few days that she's been unconscious. The nurses said she can’t hear us and that’s probably a good thing. I doubt she’d want to hear a yukky otaku crying next to her.

I don’t know what to do. I know I’m one of the oldest, but I’ve never had anything like this before. None of us had ever been hurt this bad since the fall. Back then all we could do was pile up in one of the castle’s guest rooms in pain as we got used to the changes in our bodies. Oh Diavolo! She went through that alone didn’t she! Darn it! How much do we suck brothers?!

What have we done…?!

Mammon POV:

I walked past (Y/N)’s set up in Diavolo’s castle while she’s healing when I heard sobbing. I peaked in and there was Levi crying his eyes out. I approached him and reached out to hold him.

We sat there together for a while listening to the beeps and noises of (Y/N)’s medical magic devices. “I know that this is… hard.” I hesitated as I tried to figure out how to comfort him. I wasn’t as good as Lucifer at comforting our younger brothers. But I do remember him stretching his wings out to help hide us a comfort when we were younger. So I did just that after changing to my demon form. I hid Levi and let him cry all he needed to.

“Just how horrible are we?” His tone of voice hurt to hear. I brushed his head with my hands.

“Based on what Lucifer and Diavolo showed us, it's pretty horrible.” Before he could cry again I continued speaking. “But unlike most, we’re getting a second chance.”

He nodded in realization. “Your right for once Mammon.”

“Hey, respect your older brother! What do you mean for once?!” I demanded glaring.

Levi simply laughed at last and went to leave. “I should get some rest. It's late at night by now.”

I simply grumbled as he left. After a bit I moved by (Y/N) and held her hand. “It’s gonna be fine I promise. Lucifer always makes everything okay.”

Lucifer POV:

I drummed my fingers against my desk. I was doing my work in my office in the castle, but it was difficult to focuse at the moment. If I’d been a little bit later to save her… I sighed looking at the damage I did to the desk with my nails in my rage. This simply wouldn’t do. I couldn’t focus like this.

I know Lord Diavolo was fine with me taking some time off to take care of my family, but what was I even supposed to do? All this burden was becoming hard to shoulders as the oldest. Not that I’d say that out loud though.

“Knock, knock.” Lord Diavolo said leaning on my office door.

“Hello, Lord Diavolo. Is there something you need?” I ask straightening my posture.

“No. Is there something you need, Lucifer?” He gave my desk a pointed look when I started to shake my head no.

“Yes.” I reluctantly gritted out. “I am in need of… a friend at the moment.”

“Say less.” Diavolo grabbed an armchair and moved it next to me. “So what are we doing, Lucifer?”

“Working on the schedule for the plan you mention (Y/N) helped craft a proposal for. I don’t want her work to go to waste just cause she’s hurt.”

If Diavolo noticed the glassy look in my eyes he ignored it carefully as he remained steadfast at my side. It was times like these that I was grateful for our friendship. It lessened the burden I carried. Although despite his care this time I still felt a knowing empty feeling inside. I barely know her, yet I miss my little sister’s smile already. At least those brothers of mine will handle the scum while I handle this.

Diavolo POV:

Lucifer wasn’t like himself. Usually he carried himself like a rock steadfast against the other elements. Right now he was akin to glass in a way. There wasn’t anything I could do other than provide the best care for his sister, and remain at his side through this trying time. 

“I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic when she wakes up. By the time she does the plan should be in action. The human realm accepted yesterday, and we already have the celestial realm’s acceptance as well. She was rather convincing in her words to the celestial realm.” I look over the documents with Lucifer as I speak. “Those scum will be dead before she awakes. We’re letting Satan and Barbatos end them tonight if you want to get any last hits in.”

“Just make it hurt. I have too much work to do to stoop to such an unnecessary level of disheveledness.” Lucifer scowled.

“I’ll let Barbatos know you’ll be stopping by before midnight.” I smiled a bit as his scowl deepened. “After so long as your friend I know better than to think you won’t land the last blow yourself. Especially when it comes to protecting your family, Lucifer.”

He simply chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Shall I open some demonous for while we work? I was given a new vintage last month by another Nobel.” 

“That sounds great.” I grabbed some glasses from inside a cabinet. “You know Lucifer we should discuss something regarding your sister. A special way to protect her for life, and ensure she doesn’t leave the nest too far. Why don’t we talk about it tomorrow night?”

Barbatos POV:

I straightened up the blanket (Y/N) was sleeping under. The poor child felt so cold to the touch. I’d have to talk to the maids and scold them for not taking better care of her.

Cold rage dwindled in my veins for every moment those lesser beings of scum were alive. Soon that would be rectified. And tomorrow a whole new development for all the realms would happen. Something truly shocking. Something (Y/N) helped happen. If it weren’t so unlikely I’d think she was a genius. She’d make a fine leader someday, a queen worth serving.

I was about to turn around and handle the fireplace when I heard her mumble in her sleep. I was by her side in an instant, smoothing hair soothingly. I felt shocked and happy when she actually opened her eyes.

I smiled and bowed to her. “Good morning, My Lady.”

Lucifer:

Affection: 65%

“She's in readable thorough when planning something. This research and proposal couldn’t have been easy. When she wakes up I’ll show her the fruits of her labor.”

~Relation: Determined and Tired Big Brother

~Danger Level-Orange (Listen to me you don’t want to enter Red level. Don’t let it get past 89%. Then again you never flippen listen to me.)

Mammon:

Affection: 57%

“I should have noticed that she was being bullied when I treated her ankle and she cried into my shoulder. I really am stupid.”

~Relation: Greedy Overprotective Brother

~Danger Level-Yellow (Do you even read my messages to you??? Just asking since you never seem to listen. I can’t even do much to help you since my boss has me monitored.)

Leviathan:

Affection: 56% (wow that’s a feat. Getting injured really does do wonders for gaining affection. You're almost scary how smart you are in manipulating people.)

“I know I’m worthless, but I didn’t think all of us would be trash as brothers. We have to make up for this.”

~Relation: Regret filled Big Brother

Asmodeus:

Affection: 57% (Dang keep this up and he’ll love you more than he loves himself. Then again I shouldn’t tempt you. Forget I said that..)

“What on earth have we done? We’re terrible even for demons. You’d think we had never even been angels in the first place.”

~Relation: Depressed Big Brother (Prepare so much skin care for him later. Poor guy is gonna need it given all the stress.)

~Danger Level-Yellow (Yeah I’ve described there’s no way you actually are taking my advice to heart.)

Satan:

Affection: 59% (Stop waving red flags in front of bulls. Leave this one alone.)

“I couldn’t wait for tonight. I might end up sharing with Lucifer of all people, but in order to kill those scum it would be worth it.”

~Relation: Vengeful Big Brother

~Danger Level-Yellow (Is it even okay to use the same scale for this one? But we don’t even have any other scales… just be careful. Something tells me this one wouldn’t mind murder to keep you. And I really don’t want the overtime that would cause me.)

Belphegore:

Affection: 60%

“I don’t know what to do, but if I do know that I want to murder of those scum tonight with the others. But first I need to feed Beel something..”

~Relation: Sweet Dream Guaranteed for Life Bog Brother

~Danger Level-Yellow (What is it with you and poking bears…?)

Beelzebub:

Affection: 60%

“Maybe if inuse a frying pan I can knock Belphie out to sleep? But I don’t want to hurt him. I know I’ll offer to carry him over to (Y/N) and he can sleep next to her! Maybe he’ll sleep that way knowing that she’s safe.”

~Relation: Scary Dog Privileges for Life part two

~Danger Level-Yellow 

Diavolo:

Affection: 65% (Yet again, I feel the need to ask why you poke bears…)

“I look forward to my discussion I have planned with Diavolo. After all, it's best to get permission in such matters. Although no isn’t an answer of course.”

~Relation: Mr. What’s your head size for a crown just casually asking for a friend…?

~Danger Level-Orange (I’m not mad, just disappointed af this point. This is gonna be so much overtime. I can tell that already.)

Barbatos:

Affection: 70% (Just… how?!)

“She's awake at last. How lucky that she’s awake just in time for tomorrow.”

~Relation: Planning a wedding for you and his not his son but still his son Diavolo

~Danger Level-Yellow (Deep breaths and do not engage.)

[bucky-fricking-barnes]

Romance and Routine

Title: Romance and Routine

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, feet (but not in a kinky way), mentions of showering together

Summary: All Steve wants in life is to love you and to help people, and sometimes those spheres align.

A/N: This ended up going in a different direction than I originally thought, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway. Thank you for reading and supporting my work!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Steve’s finally back. You haven’t stopped smiling since he walked in the door of your apartment hours ago, and as you cuddle up next to him in bed, you smile against his chest. The fabric of his shirt rumples easily underneath your fingertips as you grip it, then smooth it out again, and the steady rise and fall of his chest soothes you like nothing else ever will. Three weeks was too long to be apart.

“I missed you,” you whisper. Your words don’t come close to expressing how empty your life feels when he’s away, but the crickets outside your bedroom window gladly accept your contribution to their music. Somehow, their song seems more beautiful now that Steve’s home.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and his hand smooths over your arm and shoulder, moving in long, slow strokes like it has been for the past couple minutes. “I missed you too,” Steve whispers back. “I made Fury promise not to call me out again unless there’s an emergency.”

Humming, you close your eyes and tuck yourself against him a little more. His warmth draws you in.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you say. “And I’m glad you’re safe.”

Neither one of you speaks again, and as the night draws on, you adjust your position under the blankets over and over. Steve lays fast asleep beside you as you fidget. It’s a miracle you don’t wake him up. You’re tired, and you want to doze peacefully beside him, but you’re uncomfortable. The fact that you know how to fix the little thing keeping you awake just makes it worse. Even the crickets are asleep by now.

Finally, you groan, then huff, before rolling away from your boyfriend and sitting up on the edge of the mattress. With one hand, you grope around in the dark for the bottle of lotion you keep on the nightstand.

“Honey?” Steve slurs, his voice thick with sleep. It seems you finally did wake him up.

You glance over your shoulder at him, then reach back your free hand to touch his outstretched hand. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

Despite your urging, Steve sits up in the bed and rubs his eyes with one hand. He grunts a little as he props himself up with his other arm, adjusting his position and yawning.

“No, no. What’s wrong? What do you need?”

You hesitate. Steve needs his sleep. He’s only just returned from a three-week mission that he himself had said was more than exhausting. You know that once he’s out, he’ll be out for good. It’s honestly a miracle that he’s awake now. The last time he came home this tired, he slept for a full fifteen hours, and then he ate almost everything in the kitchen. You’d had to make an impromptu Costco run just so you had food for dinner. While the serum gave him an seemingly unlimited amount of stamina, it also gave him an ungodly appetite and the ability to sleep days away when he felt safe enough to do so. 

I guess I should take it as a compliment that he sleeps so much around me.

“Y/N…”

“I’m just frustrated and I can’t sleep. My feet are too dry,” you finally answer. The explanation falls into the silence, weak and pitiful, and you turn back to your work. You squeeze lotion into your hand and start to rub it into your feet. The slimy texture immediately makes you want to wipe your hands clean, but you dutifully go about your task until it’s rubbed into one foot. Grimacing, you slide that foot back onto the mattress and under the covers, and your mind recoils at the way the fabric sticks to your skin. You immediately think of all the lint and dust that could get stuck on you now that it has something to adhere to.

“You can’t sleep because your feet are too dry?” he asks. 

For someone so smart, he’s not very bright, you think as you smooth the lotion over your other foot.

“Yes. They get dry in the winter and I have to put lotion on them every night, but I hate doing it. I was hoping I could get away with not doing it tonight, but apparently not.” The words come out with more venom than called for and you immediately slump, guilt pooling in the pit of your stomach. “I’m sorry, Steve. Just… I’m okay, I promise. Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be done in a minute.”

There’s movement behind you and you turn to offer him a smile as he gets comfortable again, but Steve is crawling over the super soldier-sized bed to sit beside you. He gently maneuvers your feet into his lap and begins to massage them. After a minute, while you’re still sitting in shock, he reaches to get more lotion. He rubs it into the skin on both feet and you close your eyes, flopping down on the bed to stare up at the ceiling.

His pace slows several minutes later, and by then you’re completely relaxed. Steve rubs his hand up your calves, then pats your legs with one broad hand.

“Better?”

There are tears in your eyes as you answer, “You didn’t have to—”

“I love you,” Steve replies, cutting you off. “I’d do anything for you.”

“But… putting lotion on my feet? It’s— That’s—” 

“A way to show you that I love you. And that I want to care for you in any way I can, even the little things.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You sniffle, brushing the tears from your eyelashes, then sit up to look at him. In the dim light that breaches the curtains on your bedroom windows, Steve’s silhouette watches you intently.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most lovely person in the world?” you murmur. You reach out and find Steve’s hand with yours, resting them on your calves.

He squeezes your hand. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re my favorite person in the universe?”

You duck your head, your cheeks flaming, but Steve captures your chin and leans in to kiss you. It’s gentle, and sweet, and perfect. When you pull away to breathe, it’s only for a moment. He pulls you back in again, kissing you once on the lips. Carefully, you follow his lead and crawl into his lap, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around him. You fit together like pieces of the same puzzle, and as he exhales, you breathe in.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, and you hug him a little harder.

“Good night, Steven.”

The next night, he’s still home, much to your relief. Steve has taken up residence on the couch, so as he flips through the pages of a novel you’d gotten from the library, you get ready for bed. Work was exhausting, and even though you want nothing more than to curl up with Steve and let him read to you long into the night, you need sleep.

“I’m gonna go shower, okay?” You don’t wait for his response as you begin your nighttime routine out of habit, starting with turning on the harsh overhead lights in your room. You opt for the softer glow from the floor lamp beside your nightstand, and then you reach down to turn on the air purifier that first started out as a way to stay healthy but is now more white noise than anything. You’ve been so busy with work that you still haven’t ordered the new filter.

“What are you doing?” Steve calls from the couch.

Glancing over at the open bedroom doorway, you grab your pajamas from the end of the bed and double check that the little battery-operated alarm clock on your dresser is turned on. You don’t trust yourself not to infinitely snooze the alarms on your phone every morning.

“Getting ready for bed, why?” you ask once you’re back in the living room.

He’s sitting up now, hunched over slightly and staring at you in confusion from his spot on the couch. The book is long-forgotten; the bookmark you’d gotten him for Christmas a year earlier is stuck between the pages and he’d set the whole thing aside to focus on you.

“I thought you were going to shower. If you’re going to bed, I’ll come too,” Steve says. He moves to stand, but you quickly shake your head.

How long has it been since he’s stayed longer than one night?

“I am. I just… I have a routine.”

Steve frowns. “But you never do this when I’m here. How is it a routine if it’s new?”

You shift a little bit in your spot between the bathroom and your bedroom, then ball up the pajamas in your hands a little more. “Well, it’s not really new. I just don’t normally do it when you’re here so that we can spend as much time together as possible.”

“You don’t need to change your routine for me,” he answers, his voice a little softer. He finally stands and crosses the room, earnestness in his eyes. He takes the pajamas from you and carefully sets them aside, then takes your hands in his. His thumb runs over your skin for a moment before he speaks again, “I know that it’s hard, switching between me being here and me being away.”

“And that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to—”

“Let me finish. Please?” He meets your gaze and you sigh, nodding. Steve squeezes your hand in thanks. “I know it’s hard, but I don’t want you to keep changing your life because of me. And before you say that you’re okay doing that, it’s not healthy for you to constantly break your routines.”

“Maybe, but if that’s what I have to do to be with you, then that’s what I want to do, Steve. I do it because I love you.”

Sighing, Steve pulls you into his arms. You close your eyes as he holds you close, your heartbeats beating together in time. 

“What if I had the same routine as you?” he asks after a few moments.

You pull away to look up at him. “What? That’s impossible, Steve. When you’re out on missions—”

“When I’m home,” Steve says, “I’ll keep the same routines as you. It doesn’t matter what I do on missions, we both know that, but if we have the same routines while I’m here, it’ll be easier on you. Besides, Fury and I have had a few conversations about me slowing down a little bit. Hanging up the mantle, metaphorically speaking.”

“You mean… not being Captain America?” you ask. You’re not sure what to say or do in response to his news, but you settle for, “Is that really what you want?”

“What I want is to be with you.” He quiets for a moment, then lowers himself down onto one knee. You inhale sharply as he takes your hands in his and squeezes them once. “Till death do us part.”

“Are you— Steven…”

“Marry me, Y/N. I know that it won’t be the most traditional marriage, but I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t think I can go another day without being able to call you my wife.”

Swallowing thickly, you try to fight against the wave of tears that threatens to spill down your cheeks. You’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt and your hands tremble in his, but you’ve never felt more certain of yourself.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He’s up in an instant, his hands cupping your face as he kisses you hard. Your hands grab onto his shirt, fisting the fabric at his sides and pulling him even closer to you. The heat from his body is overwhelming in this proximity but you hold on tight, your eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you like his life depends on it. You can taste the peppermint he had after the curry he’d picked up for dinner, and you pull away just enough to inhale deeply before going back to your kiss. You think for a second that maybe your life depends on this kiss, and when Steve backs you up until you're pressed against the wall, you don’t fight back. You let him manhandle you as you simply hang on, leaning into the outpouring of love he gives you.

“I love you,” you pant, pushing him away with gentle hands several moments later. “But we— I’ve gotta shower. I have work in the morning.”

He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours, and you laugh a little too. It feels silly to be talking about work after just getting engaged to the love of your life.

“Right,” he breathes. “Your routine.”

You laugh in earnest now. You release his shirt and smooth your hands up to his chest. He doesn’t move away from you until you smile and put a little pressure on him, and even then Steve only moves back one step. You straighten and clear your throat, your cheeks hot under his gaze.

“My routine,” you repeat. “Though, if we’re going to start keeping the same one… You need to shower now, too.”

He grins wide. “Right. Guess I’ll get my pajamas.”

“And I’ll get the water started.”

The shower is quick, and it only ends as soon as it does because your exhaustion starts to win out over your excitement. Steve helps you dry off and then dress before carrying you to the bedroom. You let your head lean against his damp shoulder as he carries you bridal style, then lowers you onto the mattress. 

“Feet up,” he instructs, sitting down on your side of the bed, closer to the end.

“Huh?”

He pats his thigh and grabs the lotion from the nightstand. “Put your feet here.”

You can’t help but smile wide as you follow his instructions. Steve starts to rub the lotion into your skin, just as he had the night before, but this time you keep yourself propped up with both hands until he tells you to lay back down again. When he finishes, he sets the bottle back where it belongs and then turns off the lamp before crawling under the covers with you. Immediately, you snuggle up beside him.

“You are,” you whisper, “by far,” you pause to brush hair off his forehead, “the most incredible individual I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?”

“And I think that I’m going to fall more in love with you every single day,” you admit. It’s the truth, and your heart swells when he finds your hand and brings it to his lips. Steve presses a kiss to your fingers, then holds your hand over his heart. It beats underneath your touch, slow, steady, and true. 

“I love you too, Y/N, with everything I am.”

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Forever Tags: @aya-fay​​

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[justinewt]

Familia Ante Omnia - THOSE ABOUT TO DIE REWRITE Chapter 9

[THOSE ABOUT TO DIE MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: With Ursus gone from their lives and no longer lurking in the shadows, they could take a breath and relax. They spent a good few weeks. Aldea's belly grew as time went on, time she spent with her brothers. She enjoyed having them again and being able to see them everyday. She was getting used to their presence but this peace was disturbed when one man's ego took over his reason.

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: title means "Family over all" // Those about to die spoilers (episode 8 "All or Nothing"), angst, grief, mention of blood

Aldea rolled on her back. Her belly had grown significantly bigger, being now just a couple days away from her 8th month of pregnancy. She had become quite the insomniac the past few weeks and didn’t get much sleep. She would be able to sleep for a couple hours, then wake up, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling and thinking, thinking and thinking to the point of falling asleep again and this time sleeping until first light and waking up as Tenax would get out of bed. She was always in some sort of discomfort with the coming and going back pain, the leg cramps and the heartburn, along with feeling her baby moving around and kicking so she didn’t go back and forth between their insula and the Circus Maximus as much as a month or so ago and Tenax wanted her to rest as much as possible so she obliged because she really didn’t have the energy to go run around anyway but still, sometimes she went out for a walk, to stretch her legs, sometimes going to Circus Maximus when Andria and Scorpus would race. She wanted to be there for her brother, and seeing Elia and Fonsoa was always a pleasure as well. The three young men were always asking her if she was feeling okay and Elia was asking her questions about how she was feeling every other minute, and she often dismissed his worries with a chuckle and a smile and a rub on the shoulder. She would be fine if she was with her brothers and her pregnancy was not going to be stopping her from supporting her friend and brother on the tracks.

Aldea opened her eyes and squinted them as daylight penetrated the room. She hadn’t even realized that she had fallen asleep again after waking up in the middle of the night and she glanced over at the window as she sat up in the bed, listening to the drums announcing today’s race, which had most likely been the one thing to pull her out of her slumber.

“Is there a race today?” She asked, as if it wasn’t obvious but she was still kind of sleepy and yawned, closing her eyes and covering her mouth with her hand.

“Yes.” He had a slight smirk, amused, looking at her with a soft gaze as he put on his toga and tightened his belt. Aldea quickly got out of bed and with one hand supporting her lower back, she made her way towards the dresser to get her clothes. When he insisted, she needed to rest, she looked at him over her shoulder.

“If there’s a race, then my brother is racing. And if my brother is racing, then I will be watching the race. Simple as that.” She shrugged, and he let it go. There was no convincing her not to come. He knew being there for her brother was very important for her. They left the insula, walking to the Circus. They held onto each other’s arms and Tenax walked stiffly because of his leg. He didn’t need clutches anymore, but it was still a little difficult so he used a cane. It would get better in the months to come, she was sure of it, just as her shoulder got better and it didn’t hurt anymore, despite the bone being broken, like his. He forced himself to try and walk faster, to get to the Circus quicker but Aldea pulled back on his arm, telling him to take it easy. They would get there in time, there was no need to rush, the race had just been announced to the city. Right now, plebeians were probably just arriving to the arena and getting their tickets. Cala must have been taking all the bets too as she was already gone when the couple had woken up earlier.

They went straight to the entrance, and she walked by his side, as she had been doing at every race since the first time they walked together in front of the patricians after the Golden faction’s debut on the tracks. Aldea wasn’t intimidated by those people anymore and stood proud anytime she encountered them. Tenax and Aldea sat on their seats, with their faction’s banners on each side of them. The Gold of the wall hangings nicely brought out the lightly tanned color of her southern Spaniard's complexion, just as the golden jewelry she had been gifted by Tenax did, the coins necklace around her neck, and recently, the fine snake bracelet at her wrist. There was a certain glow about her that arrived since she passed the mid-point of her pregnancy. According to Tenax, she was more beautiful than ever before. His hand resting on hers on the arms of their chairs and her other hand on her round stomach, they watched as the crowd cheered loudly when Titus appeared on the imperial platform.

“I, Titus Caesat Vespasianus…” he spoke, loud and clear. “Give you this day’s games, on building civic baths! Already two months under construction. And I announce that I am giving our belived Rome… an heir!”

The drivers then paraded around the spina on their chariots, waving to the crowd. As they passed by the White faction’s booth, Andria looked over to his sister, waving his hand higher and she chuckled with a big smile, waving back happily. She felt such a sense of pride, thinking of what her brother was accomplishing in Rome. She could feel he was going to become an as successful charioteer as Scorpus’ was and she was so excited for him. Passus exclaimed, getting the drivers ready before they were unleashed onto the tracks and he let the white cloth fall to the ground, starting the race. Aldea eyes were glued to her brother’s back – she knew where he was on the tracks at any given time at any round. Andria’s horses looked like they were literally flying. Right at the beginning of the race, a shipwreck happened, putting Xenon and one of the Whites’ drivers out of the game. She let out a heavy sigh, holding Tenax’s hand tighter, relieved that it wasn’t her brother or Scorpus in that accident, especially so early on. When she then heard the crowd chanting Andria’s name, she looked around and smiled. He was making a name for himself. That was her big brother’s name that people were chanting in the arena – her beloved hermano mayor. Her eyes wouldn’t leave him.

She frowned slightly, squinting her eyes, confused as to why Scorpus was started to pull his reins to his left, towards the spina. She leaned forward. It was even more puzzling because he kept leaning to the side, pulling his reins inwards, because Andria was in between him and the spina and if the famous driver kept doing this, he was going to box the Spaniard in and trap him. But she couldn’t believe he would deliberately do this, until she saw the look on Andria’s face as the latter looked at Scorpus, his face straining as his lips mouthed his name before his rig rolled over the debris of the previous shipwreck and Andria went flying off the chariot. She let out a strangled cry, shouting her brother’s name. She instantly let go of Tenax’s hand as she jerked to her feet, her heart sank, and her stomach dropped. Aldea’s chest was heaving quickly, and she turned on her heels, ignoring Tenax as he called her name, and ignoring Cala who was standing to the side of their seats, walking past her without a glance and going as fast as possible, her hand to her stomach as she whimpered, unable to take deep and full breath. She prayed to herself, mumbling in Spanish on her way, hoping Andria would be fine. She didn’t even realize she had tears in her eyes until she began wondering why her vision was getting blurry and she couldn’t see where she was going anymore, but she was so used to going to see her brothers, she knew she was almost there. She even began running.

When she reached them, she could hear Andria’s labored breathing and weak and faint voice. She rushed to his side and stifled a cry as he set his half-closed eyes on Aldea, the corner of his lips stretching softly at the sight of her. He lifted his hand towards her, and she bent over, taking his hand and bringing it to her cheek, feeling his thumb caress her skin.

“You look so much— like our mother…” He parted his lips, swallowing harshly, and he looked at their brothers, “Take care of each other… Take care— take care of our sister…” His breathing quietened and they witnessed the life leaving his eyes and his limbs softened. His thumb stopped moving against her skin, his hand almost falling off her face if she wasn’t holding it up with hers and she gasped, choking on her tears, as her brothers weeped uncontrollably. Elia called out to him faintly. Aldea sobbed. She wouldn’t let go of his hand, her tears rolling down her cheeks and falling on his fingers. She sniffed, wiping her tears and turned her head, looking over her shoulder as Elia stepped towards the doors leading to the tracks. She realized the race had just ended and Scorpus had stopped his horses by the doors, proudly waving at the crowd cheering for him. He had won. The only thing that crossed Aldea’s mind was that he had won, at the cost of her brother’s life. He killed Andria. He killed him and she because she knew Scorpus well, she knew why he did it. He killed Andria because his inflated ego couldn’t take seeing people cheer for someone other than him. Her brother was good driver, a fresh face in Rome, and it was taking the spotlight off him. She gave him a death stare, glaring at him, as she watched him proudly getting off his rig. The moment he stepped through the doors, taking off his helmet, Elia threw a punch at his face, making him lose his balance, catching himself on the wall. He grabbed his clothes, shaking him up and shouting, confronting him with what he had done.

“You fucking scum! You killed him.”

He pushed him away, forcing him to let go off him, “he chose his line.”

“No, it was you. You pulled to the left.” He was restless and Gavros and Fonsoa held him back, keeping him from lashing out on Scorpus again. Aldea stood behing him, pressing her lips against each other to keep them from quivering, her eyes slightly red and shining from the tears. Fonsoa made his little brother face him, urging him to tell him what he saw. “He pushed Andria into the wreck. He boxed him in!”

Scorpus pointed at Elia, pissed, but never as angry as either of the Spaniards in front of him, “Touch Scorpus again, I’ll have your head.”

“And I yours for killing my brother!” Tenax walked around them, stepping in front of Elia, putting his hand on the latter’s shoulder.

“Andria is dead. It was an accident.” Aldea lips relaxed but not in relief and rather in disappointment as she stared at her husband without even blinking. It was no accident. They were sitting next to each other up there on the stands. She couldn’t believe that he didn’t see exactly what she saw – that Scorpus killed Andria. She had been watching her brother like a hawk and she knew Elia wasn’t exaggerating. He frowned, shaking his head. Tenax met Aldea’s intense gaze, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes, his hands joined, one on top of the other on the pommel of his cane.

“I offer my condolences.” Scorpus said, quietly, drawing Aldea’s stare to him. “It was a… tragic accident.”

“No, you lie!” Elia was walking back to Andria’s body and turned back, shouting. Fonsoa stopped him, his head down.

“Ours is a dangerous game.” Scorpus argued. “Your brother knew that.”

Aldea flared her nostrils, glaring at Scorpus. He met her eyes and looked at her sideways, taking a step back when she spit at his feet, “Que te jodan— maldito gilipollas.” her voice shaking from the anger and frustration, and she yelled, “Me cago en tu puta madre y en tus muertos.”

“Aldea.” Fonsoa spoke her name, rather firmly, because of the profanities she was throwing left and right at Scorpus’s face, who was looking at her having no idea what she was even saying, but he was smart enough to understand she was insulting him pretty badly.  

“No me des sermones, Fonsoa. Andria— Andria está muerta… because of him.” She urged him not to lecture her and stifled a sob, pointing an accusing finger at Scorpus, “Andria is dead because of him.” She saw, from the corner of her eyes, Scorpus shaking his head and parting his lips but Tenax stepped in, trying to grab her arm but she smacked his hand away, breathing sharply, her eyes getting teary again and she shook her head, backing away from him, speaking quietly, “do not touch me.”

“No, Aldea…” Fonsoa looked her before glancing over at Elia, “He’s right.”

He turned back to them, his eyebrows pulled together in a concerned frown, “you don’t believe us.”

“I just didn’t see what you say you saw.”

“He forced Andria into the shipwreck! He boxed him in!”

“No.” Scorpus stood his grounds and shook his head, refuting Elia’s every accusation. Aldea was watching Tenax and saw the latter look at Scorpus from the corner of his eyes. She frowned. She knew he was lying, backing his friend when he knew what he had done. She felt betrayed. She couldn’t think straight, she couldn’t understand why he would let Scorpus get away with this. She wished he was on her side – on their side – and support her and her brothers but it wasn’t what had happened. She was disgusted and looked at him in a different light, maybe it was the anger and the grief that were causing an inner turmoil.

“Aldea saw it too.”

“Neither of you can be sure.” Fonsoa insisted. Elia tilted his head forward, clenching his jaw, before looking at Scorpus and Tenax.

“I will have nothing more to doo with you… or this Gold faction.” Aldea couldn’t even look at Fonsoa and she followed Elia, kneeling with him by Andria’s body. Hearing the crowd cheer in the background made her stomach turn as she looked at Andria’s face, covered in blood. Her eyes filled with tears in mere seconds, and she pressed her forehead against Elia’s shoulder.

Tenax approached and sighed, “Elia, Aldea… it wasn’t Scorpus, it was a shipwreck. It happens…”

“You are just as bad as he is.”

“Maldito mentiroso.” Aldea mumbled and stood up, stepping towards Tenax, getting up close, shaking her head, looking into his eyes, “why do you lie…”

“It was an accident, Aldea.” They spoke to each other in hushed tones.

“Repeating something will not make it any more true.” He finally crossed her gaze and for half a second, she thought he was going to take back what he had said and if he did, she knew she would have forgiven him, but he said absolutely nothing and she shook her head subtly, in disappointment. He held out his hand to her, wanting to touch the hand she had on her stomach, but she backed away from him, again, “I said, do not touch me.” She was bitter and angry and wanted to be as far from him as she could. Never had she felt like this about him, and it was breaking her, heart, as though someone was tearing it to pieces with their bare hands.

“Aldea.” She lifted her head, looking at Elia. “No vas a volver con ese hombre. No es un marido digno de ti.” She couldn’t help but sob more. He was telling her things she didn’t want to hear, things she didn’t want to be true. She loved Tenax and it made her s ad to hear her brother say those words, telling her how she wasn’t going back to that man, basically that he wouldn’t let her, and that he wasn’t a husband worthy of her. She loved Tenax so much and didn’t want it to be true. She was all over the place and felt so conflicted. On one side she desperately needed him in this moment of great loss, but on the other side, she would rather be on the other side of the world than in the same vincinity as him. She couldn’t look at her husband’s face as he disappeared from her field of vision, the sound of his cane tapping on the ground fading as he walked away. Elia gently grabbed his sister’s shoulders and pulled her up along with him. “And you, brother? On what side are you on?”

He looked up at them with a sad look on his face but stayed quiet. Later that day, at nightfall, they met outside the city wall, on the Esquiline hill, to bury their brother. Insects were chirping, and the flames of the candles crackled as they lowered Andria’s body into the grave they dug. Elia had his arm around Aldea’s shoulder, their heads low.

“May the winds take you to Elysium, where the Gods will it… we will meet again.”

“Nos volveremos a encontrar—” She repeated his words, slowly, under her breath and cut herself off as she whimpered, breathing sharply. Elia drew her closer to him, cradling her head with her hand. She was the only one audibly crying but she couldn’t help it. Her brothers had always been her entire world since she was a little girl. They were her best friends, her protectors, the only three people she knew she could rely on no matter what and losing either of them made this entire world of hers crumble. She left the funeral with Elia, and they walked back to the Suburra. He brought her to the insula where he shared a room with Andria and Fonsoa and angrily began to pack his things.

“Aldea, you do not go back to that man. You will stay here, with Fonsoa, and I will come and get you to go back to Baetica. I’m done with this hell of a city.”

“What are you going to do?” She instantly got worried.

“No se preocupe. Don’t worry about it. I have something to do, and then we can go home. Fuck those Romans. You will find a good husband— a good Spaniard.” She lowered her head with a sigh and sat down on the opposite bed, looking up when she saw Fonsoa step in the doorway. They glanced at each other as he addressed their brother.

“We used to chase you by the river Baetis when you were young, now I do so again?”

“We’re no longer playing children’s games.”

“The last thing Andria would have wanted is that we are divided.” He grabbed his arm, stopping Elia as he picked up his bag. He threw it over his shoulder.

“So come with us.”

“Us? You mean you want to drag our pregnant sister back to Baetica? Elia!” He rose his voice as the latter walked past him and rushed down the stairs and went after him, calling out to him. “You would deprive a boy of his father? And if I were to walk away with you, what of Salena and the boy?” Aldea slowly walked out of the room, watching them from the top floor.

“Says the man who never walked past a brothel with a few coind in his pockets?”

“That was before.”

“And this is now!” He yelled in his face and Fonsoa grunted, gritting his teeth, following him downstairs.

“I can’t turn my back on her.” They stopped in their tracks.

“Go on. What else?”

“Scorpus and Tenax offered me a second driver with the Gold faction.”

“This city has twisted you in such a way that you would drive with the man who killed our brother.”

“Says you alone.” He hit Elia’s chest.

“Y yo. I saw it all too. I tried to tell you, Fonsoa.” She slowly walked down the stairs as they looked up at her. Elia breathed fitfully, staring at him.

“Scorpus has taken two brothers from me. Take care of Aldea until I can come back for her.”

“Elia!” He grunted, slammed his fist against the wall and rushing after Elia as he exited the insula through the front door. Aldea sighed. This was the worst day of her life. She didn’t even look forward to going home. She didn’t know what she wanted, and she felt lost, and alone but she would rather feel like that than face Tenax, for now. As she was going back to the room, she stood in the middle of it, looking at the two beds, imagining her brothers coming in there as they first arrived in Rome, excited and happy to be here. Fonsoa joined her, waving towards the bed on her left, the one she had sat on a moment ago.

“That was Andria’s bed. You can take this one.” He gently squeezed her shoulders, and she stepped away and lied on the bed as he blew out the candles, plunging the room in the dark. She hadn’t had such a bad night in a long time. After weeks of everything going well and getting used to having all three of her brothers back, it was all taken away from her abruptly, again. Spending years without them, but knowing that they were alive in Hispania, proved to be way easier than knowing that she would never get to see Andria ever again. She cried. So much so that Fonsoa came to sit with her on the bed and held her and comforted her for over an hour until she eventually managed to fall asleep. The next day, she woke up with the worst headache she ever had in her life. Fonsoa gently rubbed her back, telling her he was gonna go get something at her place, maybe Claudia, her housekeeper would have something to ease her pain. He returned, a little less than an hour later, with a cup which he covered with a piece of cloth.

“She prepared some willow bark tree tea. She said it would help.”

“Thank you.” He helped her sat up and she took the cup in her hands, bringing it to her lips. After drinking it, she put the cup aside and he left her to rest. She slept, she had no idea how long, but she did, unlike the previous night. She woke up when someone lightly knocked on the door.

“Aldea?” Elia called her name, and she stood up quickly and went to open the door for him. He was panting as if he had been running.

“What’s going on?”

“I know who can back us up.”

“Back you up – as a woman, my voice wouldn’t count in court anyway. But who would that be?”

“Xenon.” He exclaimed. “He was on the tracks. He saw everything.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He took her wrist and dragged her along with him, rushing down the stairs and speedwalking through the streets, all the way to the Esquiline hill where Xenon’s home was, as well as Scorpus, but the latter didn’t interest either of them. Half a dozen people were gathered, standing here and there in the small courtyard in front of the house. They arrived just as Scorpus stepped out.

“It’s a… terrible thing. Xenon… is dead. A loss for all of us.” The driver walked past the two Spaniards, glancing at them but only when everyone had deserted the courtyard and went inside, did he turn to them and stare back at them. They held his gaze, glaring at him. He wasn’t even trying to lie to them anymore. He probably felt untouchable now. A woman, who could never testify against him, despite having seen the whole thing, and a young man, Spanish, and a mere stable hand.

“What will you do now?” She wondered.

“I will go find Gavros. I can do what I sought to do now. Kill Scorpus.”

“Kill—” She looked over one shoulder and the other, fearing someone might have heard, but they were alone. “How are you even going to do that?”

He sighed, “Right now, Gavros and I will go to the Blue. I will drive for them.”

“And how are you going to take revenge on Scorpus by driving for the Blue?”

“I can defeat him on the tracks. Aldea, go rest. I will come fetch you when all this is done.” She watched him walk away and she breathed out through her nose. She prayed nothing happened to Elia, her little brother, her baby brother. She wouldn’t survive losing another one of her brothers, or both of them.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Published (09/21/2024) by Andrea

[michelle-is-writing]

Missing You, Ben Hardy

Since Ben left for filming a couple months ago, I’ve been okay. Of course, I’ve been missing him ever since he left. The text messages and phone calls have made up for the lack of conversations we used to have, and the constant pictures he sends me help me still feel connected to him. But lately, I’ve been missing him the hardest, and I couldn’t tell you why either.

During the day, I’m fine. I go about my daily rituals as usual, but at night, when I get ready to go to bed, it’s like I’m hit with a mix of sadness and longing for Ben to be back by my side. Some nights, I can’t fall asleep until it’s past three or four in the morning. I can’t explain why - it’s just something that happens now.

For some reason, tonight is the worst it’s ever been for me. I’ve tried everything I can to fall asleep. I’ve taken melatonin, turned off every bright light, made sure that there were no noises coming from anything, turned my phone off, everything. I even tried to meditate for a while, but I eventually gave up when I realized it wasn’t working for me either. I've also had “relaxing” music playing since I first started getting ready to go to bed, but that obviously didn’t work either.

Every time I close my eyes, images of Ben flash in my mind. I remember specific times like when we go out together and just enjoy each other's time. I’m also reminded of the times when we go out with friends and how Ben always holds me to him in front of everyone with his arm tight around my waist and my back pressed against his chest. It makes me feel like he’s so thankful to have me there with him when he does this. More importantly, I remember the times when he said things exactly like that to me. Hearing the love of your life say, “I’m so happy to have you in my life,” is something that you’ll cherish and remember for a very, very long time - if not forever.

The only problem with that is with moments like these when you can’t be with them. In that case, you’re left to simply think about that special person rather than see or hear them. You can’t hold them or love on them. You can’t even laugh with them and see their face crinkle up because of that laughter. So, you’re left to miss them immensely, and it sucks.

It really sucks.

Looking over at my alarm clock, the bright red lights tell me it’s almost 4:30, and I’m left to groan in response. Last night, I didn’t pass out until 3, and I had to wake up for work today with only 4 hours of sleep in my system. I don’t want to have another night like that. Granted, I may not have to work tomorrow, but still. I don’t want to fall asleep at the same time people are getting up to start the day if I can help it.

Frankie beside me stirs in her sleep before getting up and heading out into the living room. At that, I kind of laugh. She must’ve gotten tired of me constantly tossing and turning. I’m tired of it too, but it’s not like I can do anything about it.

With a sigh, I turn on my side toward the wall and try to close my eyes once more. At first, I’m joyful that finally, nothing pops up. No images of Ben or anyone else. Just the darkness of what I’m hoping is looming sleep.

For a few moments, this lasts until I start thinking about how nice Ben’s touch felt against my skin. The way his slightly rough hands had such a gentle grasp when he touched me is something that can wake me up instantly, but I’m trying to not let the memory of it do that. However, reminiscing on his touch seems to be too much for me as I actually feel his touch on me now despite him being six hours away. The mind can certainly be one powerful thing.

“Are you awake?”

As soon as I hear Ben’s voice, my eyes shoot open and I quickly turn over to see him standing by the side of the bed, a smile on his face. Granted, the only light in the room is the dim red hue coming from my alarm clock, so I’m assuming the lines on his cheek mean he’s smiling.

“Oh my God!” I exclaim, nearly jumping out of bed to throw myself at Ben. Thankfully, he’s quick to catch me in his arms, but that doesn’t stop us from tumbling down onto the floor with a soft thud, resulting in laughter coming from Ben. Conversely, I immediately pull back to look at Ben despite the room still being pitch dark.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, my hands searching his face and head for any injury, again, in complete darkness. His answer comes to me in even more laughter, his hands quickly finding mine to press soft and gentle kisses to the skin.

“Darling, I’m fine, but I do have to say that was one of the best welcome home greetings I have ever gotten,” Ben assures me before leaning forward to press another kiss to my lips, but his lips meet the side of my nose instead. We both know that one of us should really turn the light on so we can see each other, but going by the fact that I’m on top of Ben, it’ll have to be when I decide to let go of him.

Smiling, I nuzzle my face into his neck. “I’m just happy you’re home,” I tell him, sitting back on his lap so I can turn on the bedside lamp. Ben’s hands instantly make their way to my hips when I do this, his fingers lightly massaging the skin of my exposed waist as soon as they make contact. Once the room has some light flooding through it, I look down at Ben and smile upon seeing his face after so long of having to settle for just pictures or FaceTime. He smiles back at me, a happy sigh falling from his lips afterward.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, darling,” Ben murmurs, a blissful gaze falling over his face. Sliding his arms up from my hips, he rests them against my back all while simply holding me to him as we lie on the hardwood floor of our bedroom. “Could hardly sleep without you, it was horrible.”

At his words, the corner of my lip upturns knowing he missed me too, but at the same time, he probably suffered the same sleep deprivation as me. “I had a hard time sleeping while you were gone too,” I tell him, feeling my body begin to relax on top of him. “I haven’t gotten much sleep either, especially tonight,” with a smile, I press a kiss to Ben’s jaw as I lean my head up a bit. “It's a good thing since you got home early, babe.”

Ben smiles with me in response to my words before swiftly sitting up with me still clinging to his body, my legs now on either side of him as his face rests mere centimeters from mine. The action surprises me for a short second until I let out a small giggle, my brain reminding me of my boyfriend’s superhero muscles that allow him to do those things with me, things that make me absolutely crazy.

“Let’s get back into bed, yeah?” He suggests, standing up with one hand pushing him off the ground and the other keeping my body against his. Once again, I cling tightly to him, my rigid stature only relaxing when my back makes contact with our bed. However, Ben doesn’t move, and instead, he remains on top of me. After a few moments, I speak up.

“Are you comfortable?” My question makes Ben quietly laugh as he knows putting his entire weight on me is not always comfortable, but I won’t complain either.

"I always want to be on top of you, love," He tells me with another sly chuckle before shuffling down in the bed. Now lying mostly on my torso and in between my legs, Ben peers up at me from where he lays his head on my stomach. “How about now? Are you comfortable?”

“Very,” I tell him, moving a hand to comb through his blonde locks. Once my hand touches his head, Ben nuzzles his face against my hand like earlier. In only a matter of seconds, Ben's eyes fall shut as he a soft sigh leaves his nose.

“I missed you… so much,” he admits, “I’d really like it if you came with me next time, even if it’s just for a week,” Ben’s eyes open after his last statement, looking intently at me as I process his suggestion. It would be great to spend that time with him, but I never asked before as I didn't want to distract him while he works.

"As much as I loved your greeting from earlier," Ben speaks up once more, breaking me away from my thoughts and over I’d love it even more if you greeted me like that after filming.”

[lily-in-thevalley]

Brian x gender neutral reader stargazing on a summer night?

Ohhhh anon you speak my language (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪

Soooo, this was meant to be a short little "boop, here's your story (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)" but then uh... Yeah, enjoy.

As much as you'd gotten comfortable living in the city, your found the more time you spent at Ridge Farm the more you loved it. All of the little perks to being far away from the busy, quick paced, noisy, every day life in London. The animals, the fresh air, waking up without dreading everything you had to do all day... Getting closer with Brian.

Your friendship with Bri was always close, and hardly ever did you come across a disagreement. When you did however, it always lead to a little more of your heart breaking. The last couple of years you two had put as much effort as you could into fixing your friendship after a major blow up. In the midst of a little cuddling Brian had mentioned that Queen were going to a farm, someplace quiet and private. Somewhere you two could heal with each other. And he wanted you to come with him.

Currently, you had no clue where Brian had run off to. Despite all of your efforts, your hurt feeling and all consuming love for Brian became a dangerous concoction. You two would frequently lash out at each other, fall into bed with the intent to take your anger out on each other...and then...Brian would make love to you. His eyes and his body lost all of their anger as he made love to you and made promises to fix his mistakes, promises that he loved you, that he was in love with you. Every night you believed him. And every morning you'd wake up alone. Feeling stupid, used, and unloved. This all became such a vicious cycle of pain and confusion for you both. And-

"(y/n)!" Roger clicked his fingers in front of your face. "Spacing out again? Brian's looking for you. Said he wanted to surprised you or something." Truthfully, you were hardly listening. The mention of Brian's name stung somewhere in your heart and left you reluctant to go find him.

"M'kay, thanks Rog," you got up, fully intending to ignore Brian's apparently want for you "If you see him just say I was tired, so I went to bed."

"Alright fruitcake, g'night" Roger waved, and you gave hum a hum before heading off to your shared room with Brian. You were three steps from the room when the door swung open, revealing a frantic and slightly disheveled Brian.

"oh thank god, angel," the nickname almost felt like a slap to the face, "there you are. Look, just come with me" as though your heart wasn't still broken from last night (when he cradled your body and whispered sweet nothings as you made love, before sneaking out of bed late into the night to keep away from you) he reached for your hand. As though you were burned, you pulled away from the contact, staining Brian's face with confusion.

"I'm going to bed. I'm tired" though it was mostly a lie. You did mean to lay in bed, but your exhaustion wasn't physical, more mental and emotional.

"I know just- can you please trust me? Just for tonight?" His entire being was painted with desperation and honesty. From his messy curls to the frantic, yet completly open gaze he fixed on you.

"...ok. I'll follow you" your head screamed that this was a bad idea. Telling you all of the heartache you endured because of this man while you were nothing more than a friend to him, questioning whether or not he even considered you to be friends anymore.

Gently, he took your hand and lead you across the field surrounding the farm. While your head was screaming, your heart pounded and took in every molecule of serenity that he filled you with. Your heart fixated on the way he held your hand as though he needed you, yet was afraid he'd break you. On the way tears had seemed to only just dry from his face, or the way the breeze grazed over his cheeks to brush the curls from his face. His entire body spoke of exhaustion and sadness, tugging at your heartstrings.

It must have been an hour or so ago since the sun set, leaving you both in a quiet cocoon of night and silence. Before long, Brian stopped and looked around, muttering under his breath before turning to you.

"I think... We're here" his soft voice made you shiver, making you kick yourself mentally.

"here? What's here?" You watched him sit in the grass and pat the space next to him. When you sat next to him, he layed back in the freshly trimmed grass.

"it's dark enough out here, far away from the city you know and um... You can see the stars." Brian pointed, tracing the lines of an asterism, and you laid back with him.

Besides the breeze and an occasional chittering from some woodland animal you couldn't see, the two of you laid there in complete silence for what must have been an hour. Though you were quiet, your mind was racing. Trying to find the motivation behind Brian's sudden apparent need for you. Taking a risk, you turned your head to glance at him. Your breath caught in your throat.

Brian had an intense, yet sad gaze fixed on you. Faintly, you could make out a glimmer of fresh tear tracks on his cheeks. He didn't stop staring as you caught him, he only smiled. A sad and tired smile. Your head couldn't stop you anymore as your heart moved your hand to cup his cheek, brushing newly formed tears from under Brian's eyes.

"Bri-" the words you meant to say were lost as he pressed a soft kiss to your palm.

"Watch the stars baby" he whispered, a scratchy, quiet noise that he tried to laugh off.

You looked back to the sky, opting to scoot closer and lay with your side pressed against Brian's. Easily, as though you were two magnets drawn to each other, your hands clasped together. Though it was minimal contact, you could feel his breathing calm from where he was pressed against you.

Another half hour must have lapsed in silence before you could find the words you needed.

"Bri... Are you ok?" The words were simple enough, yet caused him to hold your hand tighter.

"No" even with the single word his voice broke, getting husky and quiet in a way you only became so familiar with in the last year. He was still crying.

"what's-?" He cut you off.

"I'm so scared angel," he brought up a hand to wipe at the tears rolling down his cheeks, "shit, I'm so scared." You fully turned to face him, laying on your side.

"Baby, talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Why are you so scared?" You could hear the growing fear in you own voice, a mix of concern and anxiety that tightened your chest. Brian's breath hitched with a little cry before he could talk.

"I'm- I've been so awful to you. I've been hurting you and leaving you and promising you so much and then-" he sniffled, trying to regain some composure. His voice came out strained "been doing it all because I'm so scared."

You gently brushed away a new flood of tears from his cheeks, shushing him as his little cries turned into more heart pulling sobs.

"shh brimi... What are you scared of?" Carefully, you ran your fingers through his curls. Something to sooth him as his crying waned again.

"Scared of how much I love you. God it- it's been eating me up inside (y/n), making me do all kinds of stupid things I shouldn't." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands to hide his face. Feeling like he could cry more just from the embarrassment and vulnerability of his words.

"You're scared of...but you keep leaving after we-"

"I know what I've done is wrong" his tone turned bitter, a testament to his anger with himself. "I've done nothing but hurt you and I've been nothing but weak and selfish and-" he took a short breath "After we... Make love, angel, and you've fallen asleep in my arms, and we've promised each other our love... I get so scared that I'll only hurt you more. After new years we saw how much I can hurt you and I've only made it worse since we got here."

In the brief silence, you squeezed his hand. Offering as much reassurance as you could silently while tears formed in your own eyes.

"so... You leave me?"

"I run away. Like the coward I am" Brian's words to himself were bitter and on edge.

"I want to to stay with me. After we make love I just want you to stay. You don't have to love me or be committed to me, I just want-"

"I love you." Compared to the edge that lined his voice previously, the gentle way he spoke those three words cut through the atmosphere. "I love you, and I want a committed relationship with you. I'm just... Scared I can't be good enough for you."

Silence coated you two again.

You snuggled into his side, resting your head on his chest.

"I love you Brian," you paused as you felt his breath hitch. "Be mine?"

Suddenly, he pulled you into his chest, trapping you to his heart.

"Brian?"

"yes... I'll be yours. Please angel, just give me this chance."

You stroked over his heart, trying to calm him down again.

"I've got you...my star boy"

✧⁠✧✧✧

When you woke up the next morning you were laying on Brian's chest in the grass. The blanket of dread that coated your heart was nowhere to be found. You felt calm as your head moved with the rise and fall of Brian's breathing.

Things would be ok. You and Brian would be ok.

Some day. One day.

[vmprgrl-2005]

I never told you what I do for a living (hotline miami-jacket x reader)-part four

"I don't want to wake up from this tonight"

part one part two part three wattpad link

word count-1.3k

warnings-blood, violence, mentions of death, kind of angsty?

an-last part:((( i hope you guys liked it!!!! thanks for reading:) (also the ending is absolutely subject to change because i kind of hate it lmao) <-ending has been edited!

I wait restlessly for what feels like hours, turning frantically in the uncomfortable car seat every few minutes. Each gunshot I hear makes my heart skip a beat. I can’t help but picture the scene from the other night, the blood coating the floors and walls, the pure terror that ran through my body when I saw my loving boyfriend murder two people in front of me. The thought of it makes me feel sick, and I rub my eyes to try to shake the vision from my mind. Trying to pass some time, I pull Jacket’s wallet out of his pocket, searching until I find the beat-up polaroid that he takes everywhere with him. It's a picture from when he was in the military a few years ago. A man stands next to him in the photo, a couple inches taller than Jacket with shoulder length red hair and a thick beard. Jacket looks like a kid next to him, it seems like they were close friends.

I remember the stories Jacket would tell me about his time in the military when I couldn’t sleep. How he met his best friend, how he almost died, always pulling his shirt up to show me his scars, how he would lay on the beach and smoke instead of doing his work, that the beaches in Hawai’i were even more beautiful than the ones in Miami, and that he would take me there someday. He would always stare at the picture fondly, but with a bit of despair in his eyes, I’ll have to ask him about it someday. I put the picture back, tucking his wallet away and sighing when I realize how much time has passed.

After dozing off for a while, I hear a sound nearby, footsteps. I glance at the door expectantly, hoping that Jacket is on the other side. The door opens and he stumbles outside, shirt covered in blood and jeans slightly more ripped than before. I get out of his car and run towards him. Dropping the large fire ax in his hand, he wraps his arms around me, lifting me up before stumbling slightly and pulling away. I lift the mask he's wearing over his head with one hand, bringing the other to cradle his face. His cheek is bruised slightly, and part of his lip is bleeding, but he's still in one piece in my arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” I whisper. He doesn’t reply, only wrapping his arms around me again before turning me around and leading me back to his car.

I slide into the car again, moving awkwardly a few times so that the barely healed hole in my side isn’t hitting the seat. We both sit in silence for a moment, not sure what to say or do anymore. I turn and look at Jacket with wide eyes, “Where do we go now?” I ask. He stares forward for a moment, as if he's just realized everything that has happened, his apartment is destroyed, his car is falling apart, and he could collapse at any second from his bullet wound. Wordlessly, he begins driving. After a few minutes of unfamiliar turns, Jacket takes one of my hands from my lap and encloses it in his. I look out the window, and he squeezes my hand to get my attention, asking, “Can you close your eyes? Just for a few minutes, I promise.” I do, of course, despite my suspicion. A cool breeze still blows through the holes in the windshield, but it feels wrong, as if the peaceful evening is an out of place sign that some other awful thing is going to happen.

After a few minutes, we slow down and I hear Jacket put the car in park. “Let me get you out, but don’t open your eyes yet.” He says. I feel Jacket’s arms under my legs as he picks me up slowly before placing me in front of the car, his hand still in mine. “Okay, open your eyes” he says quietly, and I swear I can hear a hint of out-of-place excitement in his voice.

We're parked on a small cliff on a desolate stretch of the beach, where we went on one of our first dates. Looking down at the sand brings back memories of that night. The perfect sunset, Jacket’s hand placed hesitantly in mine like all of this was new to him. Jacket squeezes my hand lightly, muttering “Come on”and leading me back to his car. He steps on the hood of the car, sitting down on the roof, then holds out his hand to help me stay balanced as I climb up to sit by him. He puts his hands on my hips to pull me down to sit between his legs, looping his arms around my neck and pulling me towards his chest. Reaching around my side and into one of the pockets of his letterman, Jacket pulls out his cigarettes and lighter, as always. He lights one of the cigarettes, inhaling deeply and turning his head to blow the smoke away from me. As he’s turned away, I take the cigarette from in between his fingers and put it between my lips, breathing in a few times and holding back a cough before Jacket can take it back and mutter “Stop, you shouldn’t smoke” under his breath. Holding the cigarette in one hand, he reaches underneath my shirt, resting his other hand on the bandages that cover my side. I can tell that he wants to say something, he’s never been good with words. “I’m sorry that I scared you” he eventually says, “this has been going on for a few weeks now.” Gray smoke leaves his mouth with every word, contrasting against the pink sky behind him. I lean further into his touch, “At least it’s all over now, right?” I whisper. Jacket pauses for a moment before replying “Hopefully” in a somewhat hesitant tone. I’m not sure how much blood is on his hands, or if I care anymore, especially as we’re both dying. I can tell by the look in Jacket’s eyes that I don’t have much time left with him, and I know that no amount of arguing is going to convince him to go back to the hospital. It’s a terrifying thought, knowing how much we’ve been through and the worst is still yet to come. “I’m going to be fine, and so are you.” Jacket says, my concern must be obvious. I throw myself against him softly, leaning my head onto his chest, wanting to feel his warmth and breathe in his scent for as long as possible. The soft crash of the waves against the sand and the dimming light of the sunset make everything feel like a dream, not much different from how the past couple of days have felt. I stare out at the ocean, wondering what comes next, what other terrible thing could happen, as per usual. The only thing keeping me conscious while also being the thing that’s lulling me to sleep is the warmth and softness of Jacket’s body against mine. Without thinking, I stand, sliding off of the hood of the car carelessly whilst holding onto Jacket’s hand, pulling him down with me. He doesn’t say anything as I pull him closer to the edge of the cliff before wrapping my arms around him. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around me, one hand on my waist, the other on the back of my head, keeping me as close to him as he possibly can. “I love you, okay?” Jacket says, running his hand up and down my back. “I love you, too” I reply after a short silence. I lean my head against him and close my eyes.

After a moment, my exhaustion catches up with me and my legs start to give out. Without a word, Jacket sits down and pulls me onto his lap, dangling his legs over the edge of the cliff. He hesitantly reaches underneath my shirt again, bringing his hand to my bandages and carefully pulling them off before pressing his hand to the bullet hole, attempting to stop the bleeding. I can barely keep my eyes open, only looking to see the large red stain on my shirt and Jacket’s blood covered hand, my stitches must have ripped a while ago. He then moves his hand up my chest, resting his hand over my heart. It seems like my pulse is slower than usual. I can hear Jacket sob quietly and I bring my hand to my chest to hold his, trying to comfort him.

The last thing I hear is the sound of waves in the distance and a whispered “I love you.”

[cdreambur]

small au inspired by mgk's my ex's best friend where dream used to date george for almost a year and their break-up was less than amicable.

it probably wouldn't be that bad if dream wasn't working at the same coffee shop as george's best friend wilbur.

things are awkward, to say the least, especially because they got along well in the time dream and george were together. dream liked wilbur's creativity and deadpan humor, and wilbur enjoyed how honest and open dream was.

that didn't really change much, even after dream and george split up, something that both of them have to begrudgingly admit to themselves despite not really wanting to.

sure, they still try to avoid each other, but it's a bit hard when you work behind the same counter five days a week.

wilbur sees dream smile at kids when they come in with their parents and notices him talking to their regulars with sincere interest.

dream hears wilbur play his guitar in the break room sometimes or watches him scribble in a worn, leather-bound notebook.

and over time, the little things become bigger ones.

wilbur staying behind to help dream with closing up, even though he doesn't have to. dream stepping in when a rude customer starts screaming at wilbur.

none of it helps with their growing feelings for each other and the guilt that comes with them.

everything reaches a breaking point one december evening.

they're working the last shift of the day together, and it's almost 7pm when they're finally done with cleaning and closing up.

the sun has already set hours ago, and a fresh layer of snow covers the streets and the sidewalk, making it hard to get anywhere.

wilbur, who lives around twenty minutes away, is dreading the journey home as soon as they step outside.

he doesn't expect dream to turn to him and ask, "do you maybe want to stay at my place for the night?"

for a split second, he doesn't think about george, doesn't think about the shame curling in his gut every time he allows himself to enjoy being around dream.

the small moment of weakness is enough for a yes to slip out.

dream's eyes widen in surprise before he gives wilbur a tiny smile.

on the inside, dream is panicking though. because god, that's his ex's best friend who he might be in love with, why the fuck did he think this was a good idea?

but he can't take it back now, and so, they walk the three minutes to dream's apartment.

their hands and shoulders brush from time to time, and when they step into the elevator to get up to dream's place, the tension between them could be cut with a knife.

and it finally snaps the moment the door closes.

there are still snowflakes caught in wilbur's curls, a small, content smile on his face, warmth in his eyes, and dream can't hold himself back any longer.

he surges forward and kisses wilbur.

they stumble for a bit before wilbur's back hits the wall, but none of it really matters.

what does is the press of their lips and wilbur's hands on dream's shoulders and dream's fingers digging into wilbur's hips.

they kiss and kiss and kiss, months of hidden feelings bubbling up to the surface.

neither of them stops. not when the elevator comes to a halt. not when they almost fall into dream's apartment with the door. not when they find their way to dream's bedroom.

and it's only when they wake up the next morning, dream's chest against wilbur's back, his arm thrown over wilbur's waist, their legs tangled, and four worried voicemails from george on wilbur's phone, that regret starts to settle in.

[lildreambaby]

saw someone else in loa community do this so i’m going to try~

so i’ve been tapping into the void state recently (my first few times ever taking it seriously since i read neville’s work for the first time a few months ago and finally understood what it was) and i feel very close, but have trouble completely clearing my head of thoughts while meditating so i’m still practicing. i’ll be keeping a log of my experiences. i’ve meditated on it a few times in the last few months but i’ve decided to commit more fully to it and practice more consistently so i’ll begin my log with last night’s experience. i’ll be posting this and updating regularly without tags until my inevitable success, then i’ll tag it so people can get inspiration from my story.

night one. i listened to this guided meditation specific to the void state and reality shifting. i love this persons voice it is so calming and i find it really easy to relax when listening to this which is generally difficult for me to do. my cat kept coming in my room and disturbing me, though, but i felt bad kicking her out bc i had just taken her to the vet and wanted her to be able to sleep with me if she wanted to, i don’t normally do that. i had to restart the video because i kept getting distracted. it was hard to focus because i had just gotten home from hanging out with my friend for a long time so i was very tired and ended up just falling asleep and not paying attention.

day two. today, i decided to meditate while i was not so sleepy, but when i had time for a nap in case i did fall asleep. i put on the same meditation from last night and actually paid attention the whole way through and completed the meditation exercise. for me, when i am beginning to fall asleep, i start to have a dream-like thought process where my brain begins to conjure up thoughts that play like dreams and generally have the same logic as dreams, meaning they’re not true and logical like i perceive my awake thoughts to be. i had a lot of those thoughts crossing my mind, or even just random thoughts of my day or things going on in my life, so it was difficult to focus and submerse myself in the meditation. when i was focusing i could feel myself to be deep in meditation and very relaxed, but it was hard to let go of my reality because of these thoughts. i did feel very numb and floaty but i was still conscious and awake, like i felt that i could open my eyes and be awake whenever i wanted to, despite the meditation guide’s efforts to essentially force me into the void state. i tried to push these thoughts away and keep affirming for the void, “I am in the void,” “I am pure consciousness,” “I always wake up in the void,” but eventually I got frustrated because the intrusive thoughts were very persistent and I shuffled in bed, tried again for another little while, but still felt awake and aware of my senses and then i felt hungry so i gave in and decided to get up again. i felt extremely disoriented when i got up though, and that feeling lasted more than just a moment, like nothing felt real for like ten minutes after getting out of my bed. tonight i will try a different meditation and I will meditate sitting up with my back supported, this seems to be a helpful method for those like me who tend to just fall asleep while laying down.

night two. i tried to stay conscious and affirm but i was laying down and i fell asleep. i had been out with friends for a few hours and didn’t get home until 1am so i was very tired. i will practice again.

day three. i tried to focus and affirm but i accidentally kept moving or letting my mind wonder so i wasn’t even able to be still in any sense. i will focus more resolutely tonight and i will sit up and i will put on some meditative music. i WILL tap into the void tonight and i WILL wake up with my desired reality as my 3d, i’ve made my mind up about it.

[quindolyn]

subby Jamie fluffy (Smut?) where he wakes up in the middle of the night and sucks on the readers titties to drink from her tits because she's lactating after giving birth to their daughter. I don't know if this makes sense but I hope it does!

Lactation Kink || James Potter

A/N: I'm not even sure if I should include "kink" but I will admit that there are some very smutty overtones so read at your own discretion. I tweaked the request a little bit in terms of the circumstances but the bones are still there. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: lactation kink, light sub!James and Dom!reader, not much I don't think, all acts are completely consensual and if they needed a safe word they'd have one

Word Count: 1851

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were life savers. They could only watch their two closest friends creep closer and closer to death for so long before doing something about it.

After giving birth to a beautiful baby boy seven months ago you and James had come to understand a new definition of the word exhaustion. You were absolutely enamoured with your baby boy, James the same way if not worse, always keeping him cradled in his arms, Harry’s little head nestled into the crook of James’ arm.

Regardless, there is no amount of parental love to counteract the complete lack of sleep the two of you have endured. “Sleep when the baby sleeps” they all say, it's excellent in theory if only the baby would actually sleep.

No, instead you and James were subject to months of newborn induced insomnia,

You’d barely understood what Remus and Sirius were saying when they offered to watch your son for a few days, give you and James some time alone. Even though every part of your being screamed for you to take them up on their offer there was that small, annoyingly persistent, voice in the back of your head. The voice of maternal guilt.

Your friends wouldn’t hear any of your arguments, listening as you insisted that Harry was still far too young for you to leave him, you could barely stand a few hours, how were you supposed to survive days?

Despite your insistence that it was far too early to leave Harry with his godfathers for an extended weekend when the following Thursday rolled around you and James were rather unceremoniously kicked out of your own house, told that reservations had been made for you at an expensive spa and resort and that you were not to return home until the following Monday.

They’d even packed your bags for you.

You and James had successfully made it through the first night away from your baby, your quality of your sleep however was not up to par as you tossed and turned, worrying about the little boy you’d left at home.

Even cuddled up to Jamie’s chest your sleep was more like a light sheet over your consciousness giving you a shallow, unsatisfactory, reprieve.

What you needed was for sleep to hit you over the head with a baseball bat, knock you unconscious for hours and give your body time to recover.

After a long, exhausting day of taking advantage of the resort's numerous spa treatments, your wish of deep, meaningful sleep seemed as though it might actually just come true.

Minutes after laying your head down on the pillow, James slipping into bed behind you, you were out cold. Pulling you closer so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck James was close behind you.

Finally, sleep.

-----

Your tits hurt, they fucking hurt. You were finally getting some quality sleep but the discomfort in your chest became intolerable and you were lulled back into a dreaded state of consciousness.

You’d been so ready for sleep and the peace that it would bring that you’d forgotten to pump your milk before getting into bed. You find yourself regretting that decision now, you shift slightly in James’ hold, just as tight as it had been when you’d fallen asleep. The clock on the bedside table reads three in the morning.

Fuck me, you think, your thoughts still blurry from sleep, carrying a weight in your temples that lures your head back down to the pillow as you fall back into your spot in James’ arms. You’re going to have to get up eventually, that much you understand, but the prospect of getting up and finding the pump, hooking it up, then actually sitting there while you pump sounds nothing short of absolutely dreadful.

You can only lay there for so long, on your back so as not to apply any pressure to your breasts, staring up at the ceiling before your tits go from hurting to feeling like they’re about to explode.

Eventually you’re forced to begin to fuss in James’ arms, trying to find the seal that will let you get up hopefully without waking your husband.

Even asleep James’ grip is insistent, he’s like quick sand, the more you try to maneuver your way out of his arms the tighter his hold gets, the closer he pulls you to him.

“Jamie, you gotta let go,” You murmur, hoping to appeal to the half asleep man.

“Where you going, angel?” His voice is the crashing of a wave against the shore in your ears, low, rumbling, calming. That voice alone is enough to have you considering just climbing back into bed with him, exploding tits be damned.

“Forgot to pump Jamie, m’tits feel like they’re ready to explode.”

He flickers his eyes open, worry etched into his irises, already blanketed in sleep, “Hurting?” Raising his head his eyes drop to your tits, like maybe he’ll be able to see your affliction.

“A little bit,” You nod, your hands combing through his unruly curls before making another attempt to rise from the mattress, “Gonna pump and then I’ll feel all better. I’ll be quick.”

“No,” He whines, god you miss the sound of his whine. His arms are like steel as he pulls you firmly back onto the bed, “M’thirsty anyways.”

Confusion heightens in you before James turns you so you’re fully on your back before slipping under your arm, resting his head on your chest.

Nimble fingers find the neckline of the silk camisole you’d found in the luggage Remus and Sirius had packed for you, sons of bitches also packed every single pair of lacy panties you own.

With little difficulty he slips the thin strap down your shoulder allowing him to tuck the soft material of the top under your breast.

“Miss my girls,” He whispers as he bares your breasts, they’re swollen with milk but the way he’s looking at you you’d think they were something far more precious.

“I’ll be gentle,” His promise comes just as he latches onto your pert nipple, carefully guarding his teeth with his lips, the last thing he would wanna do is hurt you.

It bears little resemblance to the way he used to suck your tits, fervently like they were the only things keeping him grounded, sometimes they had been. Now he proceeds with a new sense of caution but that doesn’t mean it’s any less pleasurable.

“Jamesie, ‘s for Harry, you can’t drink the baby’s milk,” You regrettably push him off your tit, he looks anything but pleased.

“They were mine first,” He whines, throwing you a dirty glance that falls completely flat given the immense adoration that lies just behind it, “And I told you (Y/N), ‘m thirsty, want your milk. Wanna make you feel good.”

Giving you his most convincing puppy dog eyes he leans back in, he latches on efficiently and sucking with an increased vigor you feel a feeling of fullness swell in your breast as your nipple tingles. It’s a feeling you’ve gotten used to but so rarely has it ever turned you on as when James is the cause of it.

He hums in satisfaction as the warm milk seeps into his mouth, it encourages him in his efforts causing him to latch on tighter. A little too tight.

“Easy there baby,” You hiss, “M’tits are sensitive.”’

He complies immediately, loosening his lips around your nipple the sensation becomes pleasurable once more. The pleasure helps distract from the discomfort which, at least in the tit James it latched onto, seems to be dwindling. The other breast is left aching until you feel a similar sensation coming from your nipple.

“You’re leaking.”

Casting your eyes downward you see that he’s right, you’re leaking slightly out of your unattended nipple. It's not unusual for it to happen but usually you just brush it away with a warm washcloth, not wanting to have a sticky mess on your chest.

Carefully, he brushes the pad of his thumb over the over sensitive bud.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” He brings his thumb to his mouth to suck it clean, the visual is almost enough to make your head spin.

You can’t remember the last time you saw James subby, ever since you’ve had Harry it's been sleepy handjobs and once you fully recovered, him pushing you up anywhere he could and taking you right there. It’s like parenthood awoke something far more dominant inside of him but as he latches back onto your tit you’re reminded how beautiful he is when he submits to you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, letting your fingers dance along the nape of his neck as you feel yourself unwinding with every second he sucks at your tit, bringing you relief.

“You full yet?”

He gently lets your tit slide from his mouth before responding, “Does it still hurt?”

The genuine concern in his voice has butterflies erupting in your stomach, you learned a long time ago just how sweet and caring James is but sometimes it hits you harder than you were expecting and you’re left feeling just as giddy as you did in the beginning of your relationship.

James seems to have sucked you dry, or at least to a point where your tit no longer burns with the feeling of an impending explosion.

“No s’all better baby, did such a good job,” You guide his face up towards yours, “Got a little milk on your lips,” You lean in, kissing the milk off his swollen lips.

It’s sweeter than you expected but maybe everything was sweeter coming off his lips.

You take your time admiring his face, hazel eyes that look a little more brown than they did yesterday, lips an impossible pink. Thick, long lashes you remember envying for as long as you’ve known each other cast their shadows along his cheekbones. He’s perfect.

You run the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip before letting him suck it into his mouth, when he couldn’t get to your tits sucking on your fingers always used to help James calm down. For the life of you you can’t remember the last time he’d sucked on your fingers. If it’d been in the last seven months you’d probably just been too tired to remember.

Letting your digit slide from his mouth James hauls himself over you, careful not to brush against your breasts, to lay on your other side. He moves with a surprising grace considering just minutes ago he’d been in the throws of sleep, you’d forgotten how well he moved.

“Other one now,” He murmurs, eyes glued to your tit as his hands move to cup it, giving him better access to your nipple.

“You sure baby? I can just pump this one and you can go back to bed, s’okay.”

“No,” His brows furrow with his empathic response, if he wasn’t already on top of you you’re sure he’d pull you closer in fear that you might escape, “Mine.”

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[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

Some Things Are Worth The Risk

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Prompt - 'But he'd learned long ago that a life lived without risks pretty much wasn't worth living.’

Working for the FBI and hiding secrets, especially when you worked in the BAU surrounded by some of the best profilers in the world, was incredibly difficult but by some miracle you had managed it. The first few months on the job were terrible, you kept to yourself despite the team's attempt to draw you in, you dreaded every time you were called into Hotch’s office, thinking that he knew what you were hiding.

Eventually though, after months on the job you figured if they hadn’t found you out by now then it was unlikely they would. You began to relax, accepting the invitations for drinks at the bar and going to the dinners Rossi hosted. The team didn’t question the change in your behaviour, they just assumed that you were shy and it had taken you a while to adjust to everything.

Though you never forgot the secret, the weight of it constantly felt like it was resting on your shoulders, hell it was the whole reason you had joined the BAU to begin with, but you’d gotten so good at hiding it that some days it was easy to ignore it.

So when Hotch called you at three in the morning with a new case, you had no reason to be worried. Why would you be? It was standard to get called at all hours for a case, there was no rest for the unsubs. It hadn’t taken you too long to get to the air strip but everyone else was already on the jet when you walked in. You took the empty seat next to Hotch, sitting opposite Rossi and Spencer. Everyone looked to be in various states of waking up and you knew you were no better, eyes more shut than they were open, fully intending on falling back asleep once the jet was in the air.

Hotch didn’t start talking until the jet had taken off. He handed out the files to you all and you flicked it open, not paying too much attention to where you were going, your eyes going straight to the pictures. All the women looked similar, all in their mid to late thirties, all with the same skin colour, hair colour and length. Each woman had one slash wound across their neck, which was determined to be the cause of death, each had been stabbed twice, once in the stomach and once the right thigh and each woman had chemical burns on their eyes due to bleach being poured into them.

As you read over the information you found yourself subconsciously sitting up straighter, eyes widening with each bit of information. You knew that MO but there was no way it could be who you thought…it was impossible. A life sentence prevented it from being the person you thought it was.

Hotch noticed your tense form and gently nudged your shoulder with his. As you let yourself get closer with the team, you found yourself getting especially close to Aaron Hotchner, you weren’t even sure how it had happened but before you knew it you found yourself being invited to his house for dinner with him and Jack or going out alone for dinner when Jess offered to watch his son. You found yourself developing feelings for the older man, knowing that it couldn’t go anywhere, he was your supervisor and the director was already breathing down the BAU’s neck. It didn’t mean you would stop spending time with him or savouring the small touches he gave you.

“You ok?” He whispered when you didn’t look away from the file in your hand. Before you could respond Penelope’s voice was sounding through the jet.

“I’d love to be the bearer of good news once in a while but that has yet to happen,” As she spoke you looked up at Aaron and gave him a small nod, forcing a smile on your face. He didn’t look convinced but he let it go for now, you knew the second he got you alone though he would question you again.

“Another victim?” Tara asked.

"Yes, no ID yet but I should have one for you by the time you land. She was found the same way the other victims were, in her home, tied to a chair with the same,” here Penelope paused to grimace before gesturing to the screens in front of her with a pink fluffy pen, “wounds. Local police are waiting for you guys before they move the body.” Penelope informed you all before saying goodbye.

“Reid, Morgan I want the two of you to head straight to the newest crime scene. JJ, go to the station and get a head start on the media. Lewis and Dave, head to the last crime scenes and see if you can see anything. Y/N, you and I will head to the ME and see what they can tell us.” Everyone nodded along and began to strap themselves in for the land.

You had a bad feeling about this case.

-

“So each victim has the same set out ligature marks on each wrist but there are no defensive wounds. All the victims have the same stab wounds but what interested me about them was how precise they were.” The medical examiner said as she gestured for you to look at the pictures displayed.

“They’re in the exact same place each time.” Hotch said as he stepped forward to examine them.

“Yes, whoever did this also knew exactly where to hit so that the victims would be in an excruciating amount of pain but wouldn’t bleed out. There were also chemical wounds in their eyes created using bleach.”

As the medical examiner spoke you continued to examine the bodies whilst Hotch looked at the different images displayed. The MO was too similar to ignore and you knew there was one thing missing, one thing that if you confirmed was there would send you spiralling. You knew where to look but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

The medical examiner and Hotch continued talking and you took a deep breath, glad Hotch’s attention wasn’t on you, if he glanced at you now he would have immediately pulled you from the room and made you tell him what was wrong.

You stepped closer to one of the bodies, it wouldn’t be there, you thought, it couldn’t be there because there was a life sentence in place that meant this couldn’t happen again. You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again and pulling the sheet of the victim, it took a moment before you let your eyes shift down to the victims left hand.

“Y/N.” Hotch said, turning to face you after hearing a crash. You had pulled away from the victim so fast and ended up crashing into the table full of supplies, sending them toppling down to the floor. “Y/N.” Hotch said again, hurrying over to your side.

Tears fell down your face and you felt the air leave your lungs. You gasped for breath and felt your head felt like it was pounding. This couldn’t be happening but the evidence was right there in front of you, a small cross carved onto the victim’s fourth finger right where a wedding ring would rest.

“Y/N, hey, listen to me.” You heard Hotch say softly, though you could hear the slight panic in his tone. “Copy my breathing.” He instructed and though it took a long while eventually your breathing evened out and the feeling of being light headed started to subside.

Hotch watched you collect yourself as best you could with tears still running down your face before he spoke.

“What is it, Y/N?” He asked softly.

“I know who the killer is.” Was your whispered reply.

-

Hotch drove the two of you to the precinct, neither of you saying a word as you followed him into the conference room. Everyone looked up at his arrival, Derek ready to fill him in on what they gathered but one look at your puffy, red eyes cut him short.

“What’s going on?” He asked instead.

“Get Garcia on the phone now.” Hotch requested, Tara was quick to call the woman who answered cheerily.

“Garcia, I need you to look up a William Parker quickly.” He said and Penelope promptly started typing, the only sound to be heard as they awaited her answer.

“Um, right, here it is, William Parker, aged 53, born in…Charlevoix, Michigan. He had a wife and a daughter.” Garcia read out and Hotch turned to look back at you. You hadn’t told him how you knew Parker, only that you were sure he was the killer. He hadn’t doubted you, not after a reaction like that, he trusted you on this.

“Had?” Derek asked, leaning forward in his seat, "What happened to them, baby girl?”

Hotch was still watching you and saw how you tensed up, what was going on?

“Give me a sec, I���m getting them unsealed right now.” It took a couple of minutes in which the team shot each other looks of confusion and looks of concern in your direction but Penelope let out a small ‘ah ha’ and drew their attention back to the phone. “Wow, ok, are you thinking this guys your unsub because if so I’d say you're absolutely right.”

“How so, Garcia?” Hotch asked. You glanced up and saw him looking at you. It was taking everything in you not to flee the room right now.

“Well, he was arrested years back for killing his wife. Police showed up at the house when their neighbour called the police after hearing crying for hours. They found the wife tied to a chair, two stab wounds in the stomach and right thigh, bleach in the eye and a slash wound to the neck.” Here Penelope gasped, “Oh no.”

“What baby girl?” Derek asked.

“The crying. Parker’s daughter was found covered in a mix of her and her mom’s blood. She was tied against the chair her mom was in, covered in cuts and bruises.” Hotch, who still had yet to take his eyes off you, watched as you rubbed your wrists the realisation hitting him.

“Garcia, what happened to the kid?” Rossi asked and Hotch saw your body shake with silent sobs.

“She got placed in witness protection so it’ll take me a while to find out exactly where she is now but it seemed she was moved out of state after giving evidence at her dad’s trial.” Penelope said as she clicked a link before gasping. You might have been young in that picture but she’d know your face anywhere.

“Oh my god.” Penelope said, tears filling her own eyes. That was the confirmation Hotch needed and he immediately wrapped you in his arms, everyone’s attention turning to you as you let out heart wrenching sobs.

“Garcia,” Derek says, not wanting it to be true.

“It’s Y/N, our Y/N.” She says quietly, the room falling silent except for the sounds of your sobbing.

-

Spencer handed you a cup of water before taking a seat next to you. You looked up at him, shooting him a grateful smile. You had managed to calm down a bit with Hotch’s help and now you were sitting at the table in between Spencer and Hotch. Everyone was shooting you concerned looks but you couldn’t look at them. Penelope was on the phone as the team set to work on finding where Parker was now.

“Wait, so this guy should be serving a life sentence, right?” Derek asked Penelope who began typing again.

“He was charged with life in prison but two weeks ago he got transferred and managed to escape.” Penelope told them, “It seems Parker and another man Lewis Miller managed to escape but Miller was caught pretty quickly.”

“Y/N,” Tara starts carefully, “how did you know this was him?”

“The MO was too similar to ignore but I was hoping,” You began but cut yourself off as tears began to fill your eyes. Hotch frowned sympathetically as he placed his hand on one of yours and you let yourself take comfort from the touch. You took a shaky breath before continuing, “I was hoping, maybe it was a copycat, you know? All that information was released to the press but there was one thing he did to my mom,” You choked out. Spencer pushed the water in your direction causing you to smile and take small sips. “He carved a small ‘x’ into her ring finger right where her wedding ring would sit. When Hotch and I were with the ME, I checked and the victims had the same carvings.”

With that you turned into Hotch, despite the chair's arms in between and he wrapped both his arms around you.

“We’ll find him.” He promised, smiling sadly when he felt you nod against his chest.

-

“There’s been a new body but there’s something different.” The chief informed you all as he entered the conference room you’d been given.

“What is it?” Hotch asked, standing up.

“The woman, it was a girl in her mid twenties.” He said and the whole team turned to look at you. You only had eyes for Hotch though, he turned to see you looking at him with fear in your eyes.

“Hey,” he said, making his way over to you and leaning down so that you were eye level. “This is not your fault, you understand me?” He asked.

“Hotch,” you choked out but the older man cut you off.

“No, Y/N, this, none of this is your fault. I promise.” It was like those were the words you needed to hear, you let out a shaky breath and nodded. “You need to stay here, ok?”

“No, Aaron please. I need to be on this case.” You pleaded but you could see the man wasn’t going to budge.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but somehow he knows you’re here, that’s the only reason he’d change victimology. I can’t, I won’t risk you getting hurt. I promise you we’ll catch him but for me to do that, you have to stay here, where I know you’re safe.” Hotch told you and the sincerity of it had you nodding. You didn’t like it but ultimately you knew he was right.

“Okay.” You said, causing him to give you a small smile.

“Thank you.” He said before straightening up and pulling you into his arms. “We’ll get him.” He repeated and you nodded against his chest, fully believing him.

“I’ll stay with her.” Rossi offered as the rest of the team headed for the door. Hotch shot his friend a grateful look before turning to leave himself.

Nobody hurt you and got away with it.

-

On the way to the latest crime scene Penelope called Hotch and informed them that she had combed through security camera footage and found Parker driving away. The two SUV’s turned their sirens on and broke every road law there was, following Penelope’s instructions and taking one too many sharp turns that left them clutching their seats but eventually they caught up with the man.

Parker instantly sped up upon seeing two SUV’s but that didn’t deter them and Hotch pressed his foot even harder to the pedal. When Parker made a sharp right turn down a dirt road, Hotch spoke up.

“Garcia, where does the lead?” He heard her typing as she desperately tried to find something of interest but nothing came up.

“Nowhere, sir.” She replied.

“There has to be something!” Hotch snapped, missing the look of concern Spencer gave him from the passenger seat.

“Sir, there’s nothing ther-wait a second, ok, there’s a cabin. Not too far from where you are now, another two minutes down that road.” Penelope rushed out.

“Thank you, Penelope.” Spencer replied as he watched Hotch’s face harden.

“Go get him.” Penelope commanded.

-

The SUV hadn’t come to a full stop as Hotch jumped out of it, chasing after Parker with his gun drawn. Parker had fled into the house and Hotch didn’t hesitate before he kicked it open and entered, the team following close behind.

They split up, Tara and JJ heading upstairs whilst Derek headed down to the basement and Spencer and Hotch searched the ground floor.

Hotch paused when he heard something scrape and turned to see the back door open. He was quick to run out, spotting Parker instantly. He didn’t have a shot, not from there and chased after him.

“Parker’s on foot, backdoor, into the woods.” Hotch said through the comms.

“Copy.”

Hotch continued to chase Parker through the woods before coming to a halt. The trail split into two different turnings…Hotch had lost him. He lowered his gun as he cursed himself for letting Parker get away before he spun around after hearing a gun click.

“So you’re the bastard who got my daughter.” Parker spat, looking Hotch up and down.

“And you’re the bastard who tied her to her dead mom after torturing her.” Hotch said as he cocked his gun.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Parker says, smirking at Hotch. “You can’t shoot me, I haven’t done anything to prevent you making an arrest.”

“The way I see it,” Hotch began, not taking his finger off the trigger. “There’s no-one here but us.” He said, smirking at the man in an attempt to aggravate him. He watched as Derek and Spencer appeared behind the man but hidden behind trees with their guns drawn.

“You wouldn’t.” Parker said, his face darkening as he took a step back.

“You really want to test that theory?” Hotch asked and with that Parker pulled the trigger. Hotch, having been expecting it, managed to move before the bullet left the gun and both Spencer and Derek fired their own weapons.

He watched as Parker’s body fell to the floor and Derek confirmed he was dead.

-

“He’s really gone?” You asked Hotch, who nodded and smiled softly as you fell against his chest.

“He’s really gone.” He reassured you, wrapping his arms around your waist and letting his head rest against yours after placing a soft kiss against your hair.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“You never had to thank me.” Hotch replied, his tone as soft as yours.

“God,” You groaned when the two of you pulled away from each other as everyone else came out of the police station, “I never wanna come back to this damned town again.” You said, causing everyone to laugh.

“Let’s get you home, mama.” Derek said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him and kissing your temple before leading you over to the SUV.

Hotch watched with a smile as Derek held the door open for you and you got into the car with a soft giggle.

“When are you going to ask her out?” Rossi asked from his spot next to Hotch.

“When we get home.” Hotch replied, shocking both himself and Rossi. He hadn’t actually been considering it but he knew it was right. Screw what people would say, you were right for him and hopefully you felt the same way about him.

“Attaboy.” Rossi smirked before heading over to the SUV.

Hotch stood there for a moment, just smiling to himself before Spencer pulled him out of his thoughts by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You ready to leave?” He asked.

“Yes.” Hotch grimaced causing Spencer to smile and with that the two men made their way over to the SUV’s before leaving the town behind them all.

-

“Wait,” Tara said, causing everyone to look at her. You were sitting next to Hotch, letting your head rest against his shoulder whilst his arm was wrapped around your waist. Spencer and Rossi sat opposite you with JJ and Derek sitting on the sofa and Tara standing in the walkway. “Is your name even really Y/N?” She asked, causing everyone to look at you.

“It is, they wanted to change it, said it was protocol but, well you know me, I’m not one for protocol.” You said, causing everyone to laugh. “I managed to convince them to let me keep my first name and then my last name came from my mom’s side, my nan’s maiden name.”

“Y/F/N /Y/L/N, it suits you much better.” JJ said, making you smile.

“I like to think so.” You laughed.

“So when you said you grew up in New York?” Derek prompted.

“I got relocated there. The family I was placed with, they weren’t the best but they were nothing compared to my dad so I just stuck it out for the next few years and then moved here to start with the FBI program.” You all continued to talk for the entire plane ride about your past and you found it was easier to talk about.

Even though your dad had been in prison, as far as you had known anyway, there was always that lingering anxiety in the back of your head. Clearly it was for good reason, you couldn’t believe he had broken out but Aaron…Aaron made sure he couldn’t hurt you again.

You smiled to yourself as you cuddled further into him, heat spreading across your cheeks when you felt him tighten his grip.

-

“Oh my gosh, you’re ok!” Penelope said as soon as the elevator doors opened. You stepped out and let yourself be pulled into her warm embrace.

No matter how bad things got you could always count on Penelope Garcia to be there with open arms and a shoulder to cry on.

“I’m ok.” You assured her, pulling back to smile at her. “Thank you for helping them get him.” You said, watching her eyes water before she pulled you into another hug.

“I’m just so glad you’re safe.” She said before pulling away.

“Need a ride home?” Hotch asked as everyone headed to their desks.

“If you don’t mind.” You smiled.

“Of course not.” Hotch replied, shaking his head and smiling at you.

He had such a beautiful smile, all the hard lines on his face softened and he looked so much more relaxed this way.

“Thank you.” Hotch promised he’d be fast as he headed to his office to sort some things out, his report could wait until tomorrow. Right now you were his only priority. He told the rest of his team that the reports could wait, it was late and everyone should go home.

You and Hotch said goodbye to everyone before heading off to the elevator, you missing the smirk Rossi was giving Hotch.

On the ride down Hotch pondered just what he was going to say to you, how could he ask you out? Should he even ask you? If you said no it could ruin everything between you but then he thought back to how good it felt to be able to hold you in his arms, despite the awfulness of the case, and came to the conclusion that this was one of the things that was worth risking everything for.

Hotch remained silent for most of the car ride home and it was only when you spoke up he realised it.

“Are you ok?” You asked softly, drawing him from his thoughts. He cleared his throat before nodding.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Sorry, I was just thinking…” He said before trailing off.

“Nothing bad?” You asked, biting your lip as you waited for an answer. You watched as he smiled before letting out a small chuckle.

“No, nothing bad. At least I hope it’s nothing bad.” He said, causing you to look over at him, your brows knitting together as you tilted your head questioningly. He let out a soft sigh as he pulled up to your apartment complex.

“I was thinking about you.” He confessed, his tone soft as he looked away from you. Dave had assured him multiple times that you felt the same way as he did and as much as he trusted the older profilers skills, he just couldn’t see how someone like you could be interested in him. He was so much older, he had so much baggage…he just couldn’t understand it.

“Me?” You asked, keeping your voice quiet so you didn’t disturb the quietness around you.

“Yes. You’re what I’m thinking about most of the time actually, it’s quite distracting.” He told you with a small chuckle. “I know this probably isn’t appropriate and it’s probably not the best time considering the case we just had but I wondered if maybe I could take you out for dinner some time?” He asked, trying not to fumble over his words.

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face or the blush that stained your cheeks.

“Like a date?” You asked, your smiling faltering as Aaron shook his head.

“Not like a date but an actual date.” He clarified, smiling as the smile came back to your face and you let out a laugh.

“I’d like that,” You told him, “I’d really like that.”

“Good, me too.” He said, clearing his throat as he registered the fact that you had said yes. You giggled softly as he sat there silently for a second. “If we don’t have a case this weekend, are you free?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good. I’ll pick you up at 6?” He asked and you nodded.

Before either of you could speak, you let out a small yawn, only just noticing how late it had gotten.

“You should get some sleep.” Hotch said softly.

“You too.” You told him, knowing he had slept very little on this case too.

“I will.” He promised. “If you need tomorrow off,” Hotch began but you cut him off.

“No, thanks but I’m good.” You assured him, watching as his eyes searched yours before he nodded.

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on your cheek, smiling as the blush spread across them again.

“Goodnight Aaron.” You replied, smiling over at him almost shyly before getting out of the car and making your way over to the door.

Once you pushed it open you turned to wave at him before letting the door shut behind you. You couldn’t help but lean against it, in the way that only happens in those cheesy rom-coms you watch with Penelope, smiling widely to yourself before heading up to your apartment.

Hotch was still sitting outside, smiling at the door you had just entered.

If he felt this happy after you agreed to go on a date with him, he couldn’t wait until the weekend came. This definitely was one of the things that was worth this risk and somehow, despite all the bad luck he and his team seemed to attract, he really believed this could be one of the few things that went right.

[silkscream]

can you do something where reader and peter get drunk at a party and peter swings them to the tower and they try to get to his room but cant stop making noise and the avengers catch them<3

“oh my god, you fuckhead,” you grumble. your arms are tucked under you while you crawl towards the couch, head lulling onto the cushion as you try to nurse yourself back to health just by manifesting.

“what did i do?” peter quips, following behind you through the open window.

“i told you… to call… an uber…”

“that costs money, y/n!”

“you can’t drink and swing, peter!” you seethe.

“i’m not even drunk!”

“i had to threaten to leave you stranded in central park because you got distracted trying to save a three-legged squirrel!”

“he was being chased!”

“by a pomeranian!” you spit, eyes ravaged with annoyance. you soften when he comes closer to you, his face illuminated by the single dim lamp that was on in the common room of the compound.

“okayokayokay, i’m sorry, do you need some water?” he whispers softly, kissing the top of your head as you wrap your palm around his wrist for stability.

“no, i think i’m okay. not gonna throw up. ‘m good,” you breathe, chest heaving in time with peter’s pulse. “jesus, you’re so warm. wow.”

“my suit has heating.”

“so not fair.”

peter tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans in to touch his nose to yours. his warm breath tickles your bottom lip and it smells of cinnamon and wine from the party. he’s almost paralyzed by the scent of your perfume and the feeling of your hands furling and unfurling fists of his chestnut hair. he blinks at you once with amber eyes and then pulls in to kiss you lightly, though you stand your ground by slipping into his embrace as if you’re a ragdoll. he responds with a sweet hum and a hand gripped on your back, smoothing over your bare skin where your dress didn’t cover.

“oh my gosh, is it new year’s?” you interrupt, eyes wide like a child’s. you stare at peter with a puzzled expression when he laughs at your remark.

“sweetheart, the countdown was about an hour ago. we already kissed,” he whispers.

“then let’s kiss more!”

he grins, hushing you by taking a finger to your lips. he should’ve known that your automatic response would be to take his finger inside your mouth.

“baby,” he slurs with a hint of lust and drunken admiration.

“happy new year, stupid,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you chase his pink mouth with your red one. your tongues collide with notes of bitter wine and cigarette smoke. peter wants to reply but his words get caught in his throat when you begin to palm his jeans. his mouth is agape after he lets out a moan, which you promptly attempt to save him from by covering his mouth with your hand. the two of you are too lovesick and drunk to take anything seriously, so naturally, peter licks the palm of your hand and you squeal in disdain.

“you’re gonna wake up the… the avengers,” you stumble over your words, giggling as you nearly fall onto peter’s lap with your dress ridden up around your upper thighs.

“everyone’s a heavy sleeper except wanda, s’alright. she sees everything. we’ve all just learned to accept it,” peter reassures you.

before you can open your mouth, he picks you up from your thighs and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist until you’re hoisted over his shoulder. if anyone else was in the room right now, they would surely be mooned by you and your dainty lace panties. you flush in embarrassment despite no one being around, softly hitting peter’s back with balled fists as you protest in hushed whispers.

“let me goooooo,” you slur a bit too loudly, so peter listens. when you’re back to your feet, your mouth attacks his neck with love bites and teeth grazing flesh. peter bites back a groan, voice wavering in his attempts to get you off of him and assuring that this charade could continue in his bedroom. his tricks are no match to your lust, however, considering you’re nearly climbing him like a tree with no regard to anyone else on the floor.

“y/n, you have to be quiet,” peter hisses.

“you’re being mean,” you pout.

peter’s caught off guard when you tackle him with your arms spread wide. his wobbly knees and lack of spidey sense from his drunkenness force him onto the ground with a thud. the two of you are a giggling mess, the vibrato of your laughter most likely echoing off the walls even though neither of you have a care in the world.

suddenly, you see the shadow of several figures beyond peter’s body in the dim light. lo and behold, steve, nat, bucky, and wanda are standing right before you.

“holy shit, you’re the avengers! you guys are like, my favorite band —”

you get interrupted with a hand covering your mouth. peter’s hand.

“fuck, did i wake you guys up? i’m just… taking care of her. she’s really, um, drunk. also, she’s just kidding—”

“twenty bucks,” steve chuckles, poking natasha on the side.

“what? i never agreed to this, i was just riding on bucky’s idea.”

“a bet’s a bet, you extremely agreed to this!”

“maybe we should give them some privacy,” wanda whispers, looking between you and peter.

“twenty bucks for what?” you ask, smiling naively.

“they bet on whether or not you’d bring a girl home on new year’s,” bucky delivers towards peter gravely with arms crossed. natasha smacks him on the head and reminds him that he started the conversation in the first place. you can’t help but laugh at peter’s reaction — his face is as red as a beet.

“very funny, you guys,” peter mumbles, taking your hand as he pulls you into his room despite your protests. the superheroes watching you are containing snickers but still wave you goodbye, to which your smile gleams brightly.

“happy new year, y’all!”

[soulwillower]

semi-charming •  bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested:  Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :)    +      AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH     +     don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh  !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au, 

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional. 

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that. 

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake. 

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise. 

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door. 

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes. 

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either. 

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music." 

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off." 

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. 

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding. 

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give. 

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in." 

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it. 

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him. 

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?" 

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms. 

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?" 

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person. 

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst. 

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg. 

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall. 

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!" 

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him. 

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either. 

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts. 

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet. 

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack." 

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf. 

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot. 

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you. 

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip. 

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane.  "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly. 

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth. 

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away. 

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid. 

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh. 

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from. 

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done." 

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated." 

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly. 

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are,  i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk. 

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out. 

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you. 

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you. 

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own.  "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving? 

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants. 

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes. 

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down. 

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate. 

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once. 

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure. 

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?" 

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to." 

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock. 

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back. 

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly. 

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan. 

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums. 

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out. 

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce. 

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building. 

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours. 

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

 "you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to. 

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already. 

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple. 

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours. 

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close. 

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters. 

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall. 

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous. 

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease. 

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9  

Part 10   Part 11   Part 12

gif credit: @bilyrusso

Part 13

It was 8 in the evening and you were still in the office. You hadn’t accomplished much work today, your mind mostly focused on Billy. You were surprised by how quickly he’d been able to make the funeral arrangements for his mother. Yesterday you had driven over to the nursing home and by the time you reached there, Carla Russo’s body had already been picked up. You’d signed a few papers for Billy and picked up the remainder of Carla’s things before you returned home. Everything of hers was packed into a small suitcase and sitting in your living room. You wanted to call him, ask him how he was and offer your support, but he seemed determined to do everything on his own when you’d talked to him last and you didn’t want to intrude.

You gave yourself a mental shake, reminding yourself to concentrate. This workday had been a wash. When you weren’t distracted by thoughts of Billy, you were putting out fires in your team. At least the personnel conflicts have been temporarily resolved, but now you needed to work on a slide deck that you’d been tasked with presenting to the executive leadership committee later in the week.

An hour later you were halfway done with your presentation when your phone rang. You glanced down at your screen to find Billy��s name on the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He sounded exhausted. “You still at work?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

There was a pause. “You give off the workaholic vibe.”

You smiled to yourself; at least he was okay enough to crack jokes. “How are you?”

“You mean am I grieving over a goddamn dead woman who preferred meth to her own fucking son?” He sighed. “No big loss. I’m fine.”

Anger and hurt saturated his voice despite his attempts to sound unaffected. Your heart hurt for him, you wished there was something you could do. “Do you need anything?”

“The funeral service is tomorrow.” A beat of silence followed. “Do you want to come?”

“Sure. What time?”

“2pm.”

“I’ll take the day off. Do you need my help with anything? Maybe I can call some of her friends?”

“When I found her she was living on the streets, barely alive but still hooked on meth. I doubt she’s got any friends.”

“What about the people in the nursing home? Maybe they want to come?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else there. Just you.”

Not liking the warmth that spread through you upon hearing his words, you reminded yourself he was probably feeling unusually vulnerable. This wasn’t typical of him.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked.

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “I would but I have so much work to do. I’ll be here for another hour at least.”

“Come over after you’re done.”

“It’ll be really late.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

“I can stop by my place to pick up your mom’s-.”

“No, it’s okay.”

You realized he wasn’t quite ready to go through Carla’s belongings yet.

“Bring your stuff with you.”

“Stuff?”

“Overnight bag, clothes for tomorrow, whatever.”

“Oh. You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah, might as well. We can drive over together for the service tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Despite the conversation coming to a natural end, he wasn’t hanging up. It seemed as if he was reluctant to be alone, probably because that meant dealing with the complicated emotions for his mother. You knew exactly how that felt. “If you want, I can leave now. I can work from your apartment instead of the office.”

“You’re not worried I’ll be tempted to spy on Valiant stuff?” he teased.

You smiled. “As if I’d let you see what I’m working on.”

“Guess no corporate espionage for me tonight.”

“Still going to keep you away from my laptop.”

He chuckled. “Just get here. I promise not to bug you while you work.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you started gathering your things together.

***

An hour later, you were at his place. When he opened the door, you immediately grew concerned at how tired he looked. Traveling back and forth from Vegas plus dealing with the news about Carla’s death within the last few hours meant he was absolutely exhausted.

“Hey,” he greeted you, smiling as he took the overnight bag from your hands.

You removed your heels while he took your bag inside his room and then made your way to his living room. While his penthouse suite was much bigger than yours, you actually didn’t like it very much. Despite the high-end finishes and the beautiful interiors - Billy had obviously hired a designer to make the place look good - it always felt very cool and inhospitable to you. It was too perfect and you always felt out of place inside the suite.

“You hungry?” he asked, coming up behind you. “I ordered dinner for you.” Arms encircling your waist, he dropped a kiss on the back of your head as he maneuvered you to the kitchen. He’d laid out the food for you on the dining table, and from the take-out containers you knew it was from one of your favourite Indian restaurants. The thoughtful gesture surprised you, you weren’t used to that from him. Noting that he’d only set the table for one, you turned around to look at him. “You’re not going to eat with me?”

“I ate already. I was starving. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You cradled his face with one hand, your eyes roving over his beautiful face as he placed a kiss on the fleshy part of your palm. “You look exhausted. Did you even sleep?”

“No” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, weary. For a moment he closed his eyes, simply holding still, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You didn’t understand why you’d even initiated the embrace – hugs were never your thing – but seeing him so beaten-down you were desperate to comfort him. He leaned into you, his body flushed against yours, and you held him tight. Stroking the nape of his neck, you placed a soft kiss on the center of his forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap while I work?”

“You don’t mind?”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “At least I don’t have to worry about you stealing my company secrets while you sleep.”

He smirked. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Yup. Probably still working away.”

Billy grazed your temple softly before dropping a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay, but eat first.”

You nodded your head, watching after him as he sauntered out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hallway.

Sighing, you went to the sink to wash your hands before eating.

***

It was after midnight and you were still working on your slide deck when you heard Billy puttering around in the bathroom. Soon he slowly made his way towards you, dressed in a t-shirt and black boxers, his hair all messy. He yawned lazily, falling onto the other end of the couch.

“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” you remarked.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

“Almost done.” You saved the file and shut off the laptop before slipping it back inside your bag.

Suddenly he pulled you closer and you found yourself tucked underneath him on the couch as he glanced down at you from above. “You work too hard.”

You smiled up at him. “They don’t pay me the big bucks to sit there and look pretty.”

A slow, incandescent smile curved his lips. “I would. If I ran Valiant, you’d be my personal stress relief. You’d be in my office the entire time and do nothing but look pretty and service me.”

“That’s sexual harassment.”

Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. I’d make it worth your while.”

You laughed, angling up to kiss him. “Your breath is all minty fresh.”

“I brushed my teeth for you.”

“Wow. Be still my heart.”

A warm grin covered his face as he shifted down your body to nuzzle your neck. His weight was heavy as he rested atop you, but you liked the solid feel of him on you, the way you felt all safe and warm. You stroked his hair while he drew lazy circles on your chest, the silence between you two comforting.

“No one knows about her. Not Frank, not Curtis, no one.”

Those names were familiar to you because Billy had mentioned them in passing a few times. Of course he’d never shared any other info, but you being you, you’d dug around and found out more about them. You knew they’d served with Billy and he considered them his closest friends.

“When I found her three years ago, I put her in that home and forgot all about her.”

“You visited her every week,” you reminded him.

“Because I wanted her to regret abandoning me. I wanted her to see how far I’d come, I wanted to throw her mistakes in her face. But I don’t think she regretted safe-havening me, not even a bit.”

The bitter pain in his voice made your heart hurt for him.

“Maybe I should be happy she’s finally dead, or maybe I’m supposed to be sad or something.”

“How do you actually feel?”

“Nothing. I feel nothing.”

“Billy, I think that’s normal. There’s no right or wrong in this. All of your feelings are valid.”

“Even if her dying made me absolutely ecstatic? You wouldn’t think I was a fucking psychopath?”

“You are a psychopath but not because you have conflicting emotions about your terrible mother dying. You have the right to feel how you feel about her, whatever that might be.”

Eyes blazing with emotion, he hovered about you to meet your gaze. “Then what makes me a psychopath?”

You quirked your eyebrow. “The fact you want to torture my dates.”

“Not just torture, I want to kill them.” Eyes darkened, voice velvety-smooth, he covered your mouth with his and ravaged you with a kiss that left you thrumming and breathless.

“Only you’re allowed to touch me?” you asked through labored breaths.

“Yes.” His voice was a lustful rasp, his mouth leaving a heated trail as he sucked on the oh-so-sensitive corner of where your neck and shoulder intersected. Sparks of electricity ran down your spine. “Only me.”

You took his hand and guided it down your body, parting your thighs for him.

Like always, you were soon completely lost in the erotic pleasure of his mouth on you. Your legs hooked over his shoulders, your hands grabbed the back of the couch for support as he fucked you with his hands and mouth, sucking you, licking you, his tongue flicking over your clit until you were keening under him. Body arching off the couch, you moaned his name louder and louder until he drove you completely over the edge.

Then you felt a light slap on your cunt which immediately brought you back to reality. Opening your eyes, you found Billy perched between your legs, gracing you with the most wicked smile. “That’s one.” He slapped your pussy again, this time his long, lean fingers ever so slightly grazing your clit and your hips bucked, wanting more. “As promised.” His eyebrow quirked up. “Punishment.”

“Not fair,” you protested. “I’ll date who I want.”

He slapped you again, a little harder this time, but then he leaned down to place comforting kisses on the very spots he assaulted and you moaned with pleasure.

“All of you.” His tongue lapped over your clit, eyes locked with yours. “Belongs to me. I own you.”

“You don’t!” You squealed when he flipped you over unexpectedly, grabbing you by the hips so your ass was lifted of the couch. And then he squeezed your butt cheeks, biting them lightly before he started rimming you.

***

After sharing a shower the two of you were laying in his bed, your back pressed against his chest as you both stared up at the ceiling. His one hand was intertwined with yours, the other arm circled around your hips. The two of you didn’t have sex but you didn’t mind. You were both fatigued.

“I smell like you now,” you murmured, realizing the soap in his shower had left its scent on you.

“I know. I like it.” He squeezed your fingers. “I have a present for you.”

“I hope it’s not earrings again.”

He chuckled. “No, not earrings.”

“What is it then?”

“Jewelry.”

You turned back to look at him. “What? Like a necklace?”

“Something like that. Except I’m the only one who’ll see you wearing it.”

“Ah. And where is this gift?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Not here yet.”

You smiled to yourself. “People usually wait until they have the gift in hand before telling others about it.”

“I couldn’t wait. I’m excited to see you wear it.”

He stroked your hair, and your eyes grew heavy. Soon you started falling into deep slumber, feeling calm, comforted by Billy’s arms around you.

“What happened with your family?”

Your eyes flew open. Like always, any mention of your family unfurled anxiety within you. You didn’t like thinking about them letting alone discussing them. “They passed away.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

He pulled you up so you were facing him now, his intoxicating gaze completely focused on you. “That day when I asked you about the pictures, you said you weren’t close to your family.”

“I meant my extended family. I don’t keep in touch with them,” you replied smoothly.

“What were your parents like?”

Irritation surged through you at his obtrusive questions but you had to remind yourself he just lost his mother. He was feeling out-of-sorts, working through his grief – even if he didn’t think so – and he was reaching out to the only person in his life that knew about his mother. “Normal.”

He simply stared at you for a long time, studying you, saying nothing. “Normal,” he repeated, finally breaking the strained silence.

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze to the base of his throat so you didn’t have to hold his piercing stare. “Yup.”

“How did they die?”

“Car accident.”

“You miss them?”

“Of course,” you lied.

He reached out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “So you grew up with great parents, white picket fence and all that bullshit? Sounds like you had a fairytale childhood.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Sure. I’ll add this to the list of all the other shit we’ll talk about someday.”

He sounded almost angry with you and you weren’t sure why. Before you could question him, however, he pulled you close so you were snuggled against his chest and the warmth of his body was enough to silence your brain and lull you to sleep.

***

It was a cold, crisp autumn day in New York. The outdoor service, attended by only you and Billy, was short and quick. Throughout it, he’d gripped your hand even though he’d been outwardly calm and collected. Even now as he stood a few feet away from you, impeccably dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses as he stared out at the pond, you sensed he was a complete mess inside. You didn’t know what to say to him so you simply sat on the bench, both of you in an isolated corner of the garden. Eventually he came to sit beside you, taking your hand in his.

“I’d have given her the whole world.” His voice was filled with pain and longing as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in the upper pocket of his suit. “I would have given her anything she ever wanted.” Billy’s eyes met yours. “If she’d just wanted me.”

You scooted closer to wrap your arms around him, breathing him in as he sunk into you. His hands caressed your back, his grip on you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe. After a while he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes holding you prisoner in front of him.

“Swear to me you’ll never leave.”

“Billy-”

“Promise me!”

“I can’t.”

“It wasn’t a fucking request, Y/N.”

You tried to pull away from him but he fisted the back of your hair, holding you in place.

The raw urgency in his voice played havoc with your emotions. If you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could shut out all the doubts in your head and simply believe him - but you could only live the fantasy for a short moment before reality forced its way back in. “You don’t mean those words, Billy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t feel that strongly about me.”

His eyes narrowed, glaring at you with hostility. “You’re gonna tell me how I feel?”

“I’m not what you want.”

“And what do you think I want?”

You gave him a sad smile. “The best of everything. Best car, best clothes, the most beautiful women in your arms. You want all that because you need others to want what you have.”

“Is that so wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that – except I don’t fit into any of those categories. You want a woman like Dinah Madani. I’m not her. So eventually this thing between us will end.”

His jaw was set in a grim line, eyes burning bright with rage. “So you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Don’t get mad. You know it’s the truth.”

He yanked you closer, crushing you against him. “It’s been me against the world for as long as I can remember. But when I look at you.” His eyes softened, mouth parting as his dark gaze roamed over your face. “I don’t feel alone anymore.”

Your heart melted. The tenuous handle you had on your self-control disintegrated completely. You closed your mouth over his, kissing him frantically as he picked you up and straddled you across his lap.

He pulled back to look at you. “You’re my home. You’re all I need.”

Part 14

A/N - As always, all of your feedback, comments, asks, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated. They truly inspire me to keep writing, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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