#let me give you another blanket man and maybe then you'll calm down | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thatoneidiotdts · 4 years ago

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Sleeping (+morning routine) headcanons for some genshin boys

A/n: hello ladies and gentlemen I'm happy to announce that I may be back now that my life has decided to stop throwing endless shit at me. Now I also write for genshin so feel free to send asks in my inbox!!

Warnings: nightmares for xiao, favoritism in diluc's part, purposeful misspelling and slander in C*ilde's part,overall tooth rotting fluff

Zhong li

Sleeps like a rock (pun intended)

This man will not wake up unless there is an emergency

No matter how much noise you make or whatever is going on around him he'll stay there laying in bed completely silent

His breathing is so quiet you think he's dead half the time if not for his endless sleep talking

And you can actually have full on conversations with him while he's asleep

Also he sleeps in a solider position which leaves you to cling on him like a koala on a big ass tree

Sleeps in really soft bamboo pyjamas that you bought for him

Zhong li will only wake up at exactly 7:30 am no matter if it's a week day or a weekend/ his day off

He also doesn't stay in bed for more than 10 minutes unless as stated before its his day off and you aren't awake yet

The man will stay there taking in the sunshine rays from the window as he's looking at your peaceful face

After an hour or two hell rub your back and gently wake you up with forehead kisses while softly calling your name

When you finally wake up you usually start with the morning hygiene and whatnot

Also he will ask you if you want to take a morning bath together but absolutely respects you decision if you won't and you don't need to even give him a reason you declined in the first place but will make sure you know he loves you no matter what

After that he will sit down with you and drink tea and have breakfast with you for the next two hours

It's the only reason he wakes up so early

T̵̻̦̥͌͝e̸̟̗̮̮͌a̷̙͕͉̿̍͝

After that he goes to do his usual shift at the wangsheng funeral parlor

Venti

Menace to society

He either sleeps sprawled out in a starfish position with his arm and leg over your body or in a fetal position with his face buried in your breasts/chest

He usually sleeps in your clothes or in his everyday clothes

His little snores are super cute tho

Venti's snoring isn't super loud, it's actually really quiet but still there

Since he's a bard he stays at the Angel's share until it closes which is usually very late into the night so he sleeps until like 2pm

He isn't a heavy sleeper so you usually accidentally wake him up if you have some errands to run early in the morning

Venti will cling to you and pretend that he's asleep so that you can stay in bed with him

After like 20 minutes of this he finally let's you go and makes you promise him that you'll be back quickly

When you returned to your shared house from doing commissions you found him still sleeping in the bed so you quietly took a shower and snuggled in with him for another hour or two

After he finally wakes up for real this time he has breakfast lunch with you and goes off to Angel's share but not before giving you a thousand kisses

Kaeya

He's sleep schedule is ON POINT

He always gets back from Angel's share at exactly 1:00am, showers, eats and does his skin care routine and gets in bed around 1:30am

He also wakes up at exactly 9am but stays in bed until ten

He trashes through the night, he also talks in his sleep but it really weird and it's mostly things that are in English but you can't understand them at all

Kaeya is also a blanket snatcher and will snatch your blanket if you aren't holding it tightly

I feel like he also sleeps with socks on but has a few special pairs of socks that have some cute patterns that he would rather be caught working with the fatui by his own brother than wear them outside once

Also sleeps in silk pyjamas, doesn't care if the cotton ones are easier to breathe through, he likes the feeling of silk on his skin

Kaeya loves his personal space and he doesn't like to be touched while he sleeps but makes up for it when he's awake but still in bed

The only exception is when it's cold outside, I headcannon he's naturally cold and he doesn't like it at all

His morning routine is 90% of him taking care of his face and showering

His skincare routine is also more expensive than some people's houses so don't touch his products plz

Kaeya will gladly teach you the basics of skin care and will buy you your own products that thinks will suit your skin better

He's also almost late to work every day so every day you see him put on his shoes calmly, take in a deep breath and then he kisses you goodbye and runs off like a mad man in order to get to the headquarters on time

Diluc

He has so much unprocessed trauma I would be surprised is sleep schedule is anything but a mess

Diluc doesn't sleep a lot, he would have a normal sleep schedule but since he has a lot of stuff to do all the time it stops him from sleeping property

Not only does he work as a bartender at Angel's share when Charles can't he also works as the Mondstat's one and only Dark Night Hero

He usually comes home around 4 or 5 am and will only sleep until like 8 and you will have to force him to have a nap in the afternoon

Also he sleeps in his everyday clothing and he's sometimes too tired to even take his coat off

Diluc sleeps on his stomach which causes him to have back and neck problems but it's the only way he can actually fall asleep

He's a really light sleeper which also adds up to his sleeping problem

Also he snores loudly, like really loudly, and he only snores at night for some weird reason

You discovered that because one day you accidentally woke up at like 6 am and you couldn't fall back asleep because of his loud snoring but you didn't dare to move since you knew how little rest he gets

He's not a morning person at all, if he didn't hate alcohol, he would be the person that chugs half a bottle of vodka in the morning just to keep him awake

Diluc usually starts his morning off with some personal hygiene and then starts doing the endless paperwork without even having breakfast or anything to drink

So out will have to force him to eat and drink so that he doesn't pass out from work

On the rare days he doesn't have any work to do he usually sleeps them off to make up for the time he didn't sleep

Albedo

Chalk boy over here also has a terrible sleep schedule

He's not really forcing himself to stay up but rather doesn't realize how late it is

You will have to pull him out of his work in order for him to go to sleep

Albedo has a special pair of pyjamas that he wears when he's sleeping and he only wears them because for his last birthday Klee has given him a pair of pyjamas that were originally grey but she hand painted them herself with the help of Jean and Lisa and he's been sleeping in them ever since

And when i say every day I mean every day

But don't worry he hand washes them every two days and takes special care of them in order to not wash of the fabric paint

His snores are also really quiet and quite cute, I recommend commenting on that if you wanna see him blush ^-^

Albedo usually sleeps on his stomach but unlike Diluc he is small enough to not crush you under his weight so he usually sleeps with his head on your stomach or buried in your neck

Pease touch his hair he melts when you do

Albedo can sleep for a looonng time if you don't wake him up so he relies on you to wake him up or else he'll spend the next 16 hours in bed sleeping without a care in the wold

When he wake up he does his usual morning routine, which is usually a quick shower, breakfast, brushing his teeth and his hair out, and then goes off to work

He will absolutely make you have a nap with him in the afternoon or whenever he feels tired

Xiao

He doesn't sleep much, hell I don't this man sleeps at all sometimes

Adepti don't really require sleep or food like normal humans do

It took a lot of time for him to trust you enough to sleep besides him

Xiao doesn't feel safe while sleeping at all, he also fears that his karmic dept might take affect on you so he keeps his distance for quite some time

For the first month or two he would wear his normal every day clothes but then you gift him a cute plain green onesie and at first he straight up refused to put 'that thing' on but he gave in and hasn't sleep in anything else since

At first he would be the big spoon so that he can protect you from any harm but when you spooned him for the first time he felt so safe and warm he never wanted to let go of that feeling ever again

After that he would ask you under his breath if you could spoon him more often, you barely understood what he was saying but perfectly understood what he wanted and needed.

He also regularly has nightmares which causes him to trash around and maybe whack you in the face once or twice but you're quick to calm him down

Xiao never really realized that he was hurting you until he gently hugged you and you winced because he accidentally touched the small mark he left the previous night after having another nightmare

Doesn't touch you or sleep with you for a week after that, he already hurt you enough but you don't really care so you coaxed him into sleeping with you again very easily since he missed your warmth a lot

He doesn't really have a morning routine but he does wake up every morning before you so that he can teleport to the Huaguang Stone Forest to pick some Qingxin flowers for you

He's also gets back into your arms right before you wake up so that it seems like he never left in the first place

But you always notice the new fresh bouquet of the beautiful white flower on your desk and thank him for it

T*rtaglia

Listen here ok I'mma be real with y'all

Turbulence sleeps exactly one hour less than normal people but makes it seem like he gets like 2 hours of sleep per night

"Ugh I didn't sleep last night at all😩😏" Like bro stfu

He also makes jokes about sleeping so little because he was with you last night or that he was training so hard or doing a mountain of paper work

While you know damn well he was with you entire night sleeping like a baby right by your side

He sleeps naked solely so that one day when a hypothetical intruder gets into your home he can scare them off by yelling at them while being completely naked 💀

But he will put a pair of pyjamas on if you're uncomfortable

He mostly sleeps on his side because he needs to hold something while he's sleeping, if you aren't with him that night he will hug your pillow and sleep like that

Tagliatelle also doesn't like to sleep when in a cold room so he will have one of those water bottles that people use for back pain and will put one in the pillow he's holding and two in the blanket itself

He's totally a morning person and has no problem with getting out of the bed in less than like 10 minutes unless you ask him not to

If he has a day off he won't sleep in that much but he will curl up beside you and 'accidentally' place his head on your boobs/chest

Y'all saying Terrorism is the caring older brother? WRONG he's the forgotten middle child. we ofc know about Tonia, Anthon and Teucer but he also has two older brothers and at least one older sister

I feel like he's the middle child that had to take all the responsibilities when the older three/four moved out

So yeah he can make a damn fine breakfast for you without skipping a beat

But don't let me even start on his personal hygiene

Like shower are fine ok and he baths once a week only because he can but like

I know damn well his back teeth are ROTTING

He only uses mouthwash and brushes the front and bottom part of the teeth so that they look presentable meanwhile his back teeth got their souls sucked out

Moving on from that Tellurium can't really spend the whole morning with you so he will have to leave you late in the morning.

Coffee? :>

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chocolateheart · 4 years ago

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Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

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blushing-starker · 3 years ago

Text

Sour bats and disgruntled boyfriends

"Let me get this straight."

"Aren't you bi?" Tony's left eye twitches and Peter slams his laptop lid close on Ned's startled cackling and MJ's triumphant grin at getting a rise from the billionaire. Clears his throat and tries to stamp down his giggle.

"Yeah, what's up?" They're in May's apartment for the night, visiting in the hopes that they'll catch Happy ripping his pants while proposing. Plans were, sadly, cut quick when Tony's driver took one glance at their amused faces, flushed red like a cherry and then dragged Peter's aunt to a five star hotel for the weekend. On Tony's tab as payback, obviously.

"So instead of, I don't know, buying scented candles, maybe some nice dinner-"

"Tony, I'm not eating another microwaved meal just because you like the chemicals-"

His boyfriend flicks his wrist, pretends he hasn't spoken a word, "Hear something? No? Great, neither did I. Dinner, flowers, a few chocolates-"

"Halloween was last week and you ate all of Morgan's candy!" Tony looks around, raises a hand to his ear and makes a face, hear something? Peter sighs, falls back on his twin bed with a soft thump. Shakes his arms so this ridiculous man keeps going with his interrogation.

"Or, and this is just me saying random stuff, condoms, lube," he groans, shoves his face into his Spider-Man pillow and drags the Batman blanket over himself, "I mean, hey, how about a toy or two? I know there's a cute little sex shop down the road and they're having discounted prices."

Peter snorts, peeks out at Tony. "Are you really that serious about sleeping with me in my childhood bedroom?"

"No, I'm that serious about railing you in your childhood bedroom. Please, Pete, there's a difference. Anyway, in favor of buying what I've just mentioned, my sweet, loveable boyfriend decided to spend," Tony kicks under his bed and he lunges forward, gets a hand shoved into his face while the tallest of the two crouches and lifts-

"Fifteen dollars worth of Halloween candy when he promised-"

Peter yanks at Tony's arm, scrambles up his body like a monkey in order to steal back his sack of sweets.

"What the fuck are you doing, this is my nice Tom Ford suit!"

"Oh, please, this isn't the the three piece, two buttons, Tony, give them back!" Tony growls at him, stumbles to the open window and shoves the bag over the sill. He freezes, legs clutching at Tony's waist and hands wringing the soft silk of the (kinda meh, to be honest) suit.

"I thought you promised not to binge until Christmas, Pete. Thought we had ourselves an honorable wager between two, no, stop it, I swear to God, I will drop it if you don't calm down," the bag sways in the wind and he pouts, rubs his cheek over Tony's stubble.

"Please, Tony, I worked so hard carrying it up the stairs."

Tony huffs, turns his head away. "Yeah, no, I'm sure you did, Spider-Man. And don't try and fool me, you little minx. I know you're being affectionate for the sugar."

"Please, please, please, please," he whines, fingers tugging insistently at Tony's face, his shoulders, the long sleeves, the silver hair, "please, please, please, please, please. They had the sour vampire Haribo's on sale, Tony!"

"Which I could buy for you year round, Peter!"

"But I bought those with MJ and Ned at the store for fifty cents. It's not the same!"

"Oh, what, the rush of getting away with it while everyone had no idea it was available did something to you?"

"Exactly! Like me being with you!" Tony blinks at him for a moment or two, gears turning in his head. Peter gives him the puppy dog eyes Morgan perfected when she was three. The man sighs and hauls him upright, muttering about ungrateful boyfriends and sugar high teenagers driving him crazy.

Tony plops down on the bed and shoves him halfheartedly when he jokingly presses wet kisses over a fine nose and flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm the best lover in the world. Stop wriggling and let me feed you candy, you monkey. Can't believe you bought this much, you'll get a, actually, can you get cavities?"

Peter shrugs, does a quick happy wriggle when Tony rips open the Haribo bag and gives him a red bat. "I got one or two when I was a kid, but nothing after the spider bite. Aren't you going to have a piece?"

"Well, seeing as how my doctor threatened me with fifty blood tests if I ate too much sweet stuff-"

"Then you cheated the wager!"

"Are you serious, I eat you out all the time and you're sweet. I can have a piece of chocolate every, like, blue moon. Here, you can have the bats and I'll have-"

"Me?"

"You honestly offering yourself over candy?"

"Yes?"

"...yeah, ok, scooch over."

Peter settles back on his pillow with the bag of candy, content with his impromptu dinner and a show. Until, of course, Tony does something life altering with his tongue that makes him see stars and accidentally yeet the bag off his bed and into the living room. Yeah, they have a hard time cleaning all of it before his aunt comes home.

---

When Happy and May get back, Peter has a rather distinctive hickey on the side of his neck that looks like, of all things, a tiny bat with the initials TS inside of it.

#my writing #ironspider #starker #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker #tony stark #happy hogan #may parker #short and fluffy folks #starker fluff #ok so a little hinted sex at the end but thats not the point

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 4 years ago

Text

Invisible String (Harry Styles x Reader)

(Soulmate AU)

A/N: Got inspired with this while listening to Taylor Swift’s Invisible string, hence the title. It took me a really long time to write this, hope you like it!

Warnings: none

Summary: In a world where soulmates are connected by an invisible red thread, how would you find yours?

“Maybe if I yank it hard enough, I’ll pull him to me.”

“Honey, you know that’s not how it works, right?” My Mom leaned forward and placed her hand on my arm, she looked genuinely concerned for me.

“Mom, you got it easy. You were fifteen when you bumped into dad. Literally. And here I am, twenty-six and still don’t know who is my soulmate,” My voice rising slowly as I pushed her hand away from me, I was getting rather frustrated having the same conversations over and over again.

“Oh don't be so dramatic, your Grandma was thirty-five when she met your Grandpa and you know how happy they were. You'll find him," my mom tried to reassure me. Again. “Or her," tilting her head to the side, she added as an afterthought.

I almost wanted to roll my eyes, my Grandma was a very patient lady, unfortunately, she didn't pass down the trait to me.

I had been waiting for my soulmate ever since I turned five and sort of understood the concept. Invisible red strings. Fate. The one.

My parents sat me down one fine day and explained to me how two people that were meant to be together were connected by an invisible red thread tied to their little fingers.

All I asked them at the time was if the thread was invisible, how did people know it was red. They told me I'll find out in due time.

I still didn't know the answer to that.

But after my five-year-old brain had absorbed the newly received information, I got obsessed with finding my soulmate.

There was something incredibly reassuring about having someone only meant for you. But wrapped around it was the uncertainty of how and when and you will find them, or even if you'll find them.

After that day, I would constantly find myself reaching for my pinky finger, a calmness washing over me, a hope to find someone, and call them mine.

My friends and I spent hours discussing our soulmates, what they would look like, how would we meet them, and so on. Our parents would look at us and coo, mostly finding this adorable, reminding them of a time when they were young and probably did the same.

That's how things worked.

I was ten and had left my obsession behind. I still found comfort in my little finger during times of sadness and anger.

One night in the middle of June, after a big fight with my parents, I ran up to my room, plopped myself on the bed, and let loose all the emotions building up in me.

It was a few hours later when my breathing calmed down and the tears on my cheeks dried when my left hand reached for my pinky, and my fingers felt a soft textured thread reaching out from it.

My eyes widened as I looked down at my hands but found nothing, only my fingers wrapped around what seemed to be air, a few inches in front of my right hand's littlest finger.

I could not comprehend what had happened and chalked it up to delusions due to my tiredness.

The next morning I woke up, groggy, my hands automatically reached for the supposed string that I could feel the previous night and found that I could still touch it. "Maybe I am still tired," I convinced myself before sleeping for another few hours.

It was after spending a few days just feeling out the string that I realised I could touch the red string of fate.

My parents didn't believe so, they thought I was still a delusional kid with my head up in the clouds. They found it cute for a couple of days, happy that I was still interested in finding a soulmate, but then my constant attempts at convincing them that it was true got annoying for them.

No one seemed to believe me, and my friends thought I was lying for attention.

Nothing like this had ever happened. Fate worked mysteriously, fate worked behind the scenes. No one was supposed to know how, it just worked. I must be lying.

Since no one believed me, I found solace in my thread, in my soulmate. I tried pulling the string, hoping the one on the other side would reply, would pull it towards them as well. But nothing.

I guessed maybe they couldn't feel the string as well, just like everybody else. But my soulmate was not like everybody else. If I could touch the thread then they could as well, after all, our souls were connected. Maybe they just didn't want me.

I never stopped though, just like my pinky had become my safety blanket, I found a new comfort in pulling the thread, twisting it between my fingers, still praying that my other half could feel it, even if they didn't respond.

I would spend hours trying to follow the thread, but it seemed endless and at the time, my block was where my world ended. My soulmate was way out of my reach.

Three months later, in the middle of my English class, I felt it. A tug. I looked down, before realising I could not see it. I almost laughed at my stupidity, but it was clear as day, my soulmate had responded.

My head shook as a slow smile crept up my face and I couldn't stop the sigh leaving my mouth. My classmates probably worried about my sanity, shaking my head and smiling at nothing sitting in the centre of the classroom. But I didn't care.

Knowing that there indeed was someone on the other side was like finding a piece of land after a lifetime at sea. I didn't waste a second to reply and received a tug again. I smiled, he was here and he was here to stay.

It was the start of something new. Every time, one of us felt down or lonely or happy we would pull at our thread, we now had someone to share those moments with.

I didn't know if his family or friends knew about us, but it felt like our secret.

Over the years, we formed this new language between us. Sometimes, we would pull the thread at the same time, or wait for the other to respond but no one would. It was uncoordinated and messy, like two drunk people attempting to dance, but it was ours.

I was eighteen when I figured a way to enhance our communication. Morse code.

It was some random detective show that gave me the idea and it seemed perfect. I just didn't know how to communicate this to him.

It took me less than a month to learn morse code. After I was done learning, I tried pulling at the thread in a specific pattern ‘Hey Soulmate’.

He wouldn't understand the message, but I prayed he would realise what it was.

He did.

Somehow, my soulmate had lost the ability to disappoint me. I smiled at the thought.

It took weeks of incomprehensible back and forth between us for us to finally be able to understand each other. It was hard, but we achieved it.

I realised two things from our exchanges.

One- My soulmate was a dork, his dad jokes were endless and two- I loved every second of it.

He would start pulling at the string in the middle of the night and I had to grab the notepad and pencil from my bedside table and decipher his messages half-asleep. And It would end up being some lame knock-knock joke.

You bet I laughed every time.

Which always led me to wonder what it would be like to actually be with him. How would he be as a partner? Would he hold my hand walking down the street? Would he kiss me in front of his friends? What nickname would he give me or would he give me any at all?

I spent most of my time talking to Harry, whose name I had learnt in one of our earliest full conversations.

My parents let it slide, believing it to be some teenage issues. My friends were lucky enough to have found their own soulmates at a young enough age and were too busy being in love.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked him one night.

I kept staring at the neon stars on my ceiling. Trying to conjure his face in my mind as I waited for his response, but didn't feel the now familiar tug that carried his replies.

It seemed like hours before my little finger was finally pulled at. With my notepad and pencil at the ready, I was prepared to write. “A musician”.

The corners of my mouth were pulled upwards and I imagined a young faceless man with a guitar in his hand performing in a stadium for thousands of people.

A laugh left me when I pictured him ending his concert with a final joke. People would groan at him but laugh nonetheless. They would love him too.

My mind then wandered to a future where he was performing at the Madison Square Garden, people screaming I love you from the audience. A huge smile gracing his lips. He would then came home late at night after the concert and lay down on the bed next to me. He would wrap his arm around my sleeping form and whisper I love you in my ear and I would respond with a sleepy mmph. He would smile down at me and eventually fall asleep too.

I looked down at the thread which was still pulling but all I could catch was a question mark. I cursed myself for not paying attention and asked him to repeat his question.

“What about you, Lovie?"

I stilled. Lovie? A nickname. So he was a nickname kinda guy.

I almost forgot to reply to him. But then instantly hit him back with a “Journalist”.

My pinky was pulled again, “Maybe that is how we will cross paths”.

I liked the thought.

"Owww," my right hand was pulled harshly when I stood up to submit my English assignment, causing me to fall forward. I was confused for a few seconds, trying to piece what caused it, but found nothing.

I looked around as everyone was laughing at my clumsiness, still dazed, I stood up and placed my essay on my teacher's table who looked at me with her eyebrows furrowed in concern, her lips parted to whisper "Are you okay?"

I nodded my head and returned to my seat, head down and my thoughts racing a thousand miles a minute. Before it clicked, Harry. I couldn't believe he made me fall down on purpose, or maybe it was an accident.

“Sorry”

I shook my head at my clumsy partner and focused on my teacher who had started talking about something else already.

I wasn't going to let the incident go that soon. During our next conversation, instead of sending him a reply, I held onto the soft, invisible thread tightly and yanked it towards me.

Not getting a reply soon after, I started worrying I had actually hurt him. Panic flowed through me, this was an insane idea, why would I do that? What if he was driving? What if he was at a height?

“Owww”

I admit I laughed, the incident wasn't hilarious enough to call for that level of laughter, but I did.

All my panic had immediately flown out of me. I loved it; before he pulled his end of the string again and made me fall down.

Thus, welcomed a new addition to our language.

We would yank our strings during mid-conversations, making the other fall down wherever they were. Did injury turn us on? We never tried to guess.

Moving to college was harder than I thought, I didn't know if I was moving closer to Him or farther away.

I considered asking him where he lived, but shook the thought away, we had promised not to reveal to each other any of our identifiable qualities except for our first names. We wanted to leave some things up to the true mastermind, Fate.

Going to New York University was my dream. Receiving my acceptance letter was an emotional moment for me, it took my Mom like an hour to calm me down enough to actually read the letter.

So, physically being here, standing in my dorm room was another level of excitement. I was ready to bedazzle the world with my writing.

"Ouch," someone came rushing into me from the back. I turned around to look at the person who bumped into me, only to find a five-foot-something, brown-haired girl standing in front of me, rubbing her forehead.

"Hi."

"Hello, you must be the roommate. I'm Olivia, what about you?" Her eyes held a curious gaze, as she extended her right hand towards me.

"Y/n," I placed my hand in hers and shook it lightly, having a good feeling about her.

"Y/n, brace yourself, we're gonna be best friends for a really long time."

I knew it.

During my time at NYU, Olivia really did become my best friend, she introduced me to her soulmate, Ashley, who was somehow an even bigger bundle of joy than Liv. I didn't know that was possible.

"Who're those guys?"

"Hmm?"

"In your poster, I have always wanted to ask you that," I pointed at the big poster Liv had stuck on her wall in our first year.

She looked at me, her brows raised up to her forehead and her mouth agape, "You don't know One Direction?"

"I mean, I have heard of them. Are they any good?" I remembered my friends back home making me listen to a song of theirs, "What makes you beautiful', it was catchy but I never dug deeper into them. I didn't even know why.

"Only the best," her mouth was set into a hard line, but her forehead was covered in creases as though she was thinking deeply about something.

"Come on, I'll show you their songs. I don’t why we’ve never done this before.”

This commenced a whole night of one direction albums, music videos, their documentary, and their recent concert film. She even called Ashley to our room, which began an intense lesson on the fandom ships, theories, and dramas. It was a busy night.

By the next day, I was more knowledgable about one direction than I had ever intended to be. I didn't it mind it though, I got to further learn the inner makings of my best friend.

I had to admit, I was a little partial towards Harry Styles, his name had become a personal favourite of mine. Plus, he was cute.

I also noticed how clumsy he was on stage. Constantly falling down, mid-performances. It was hilarious. Olivia told me that's just how he was. Goofy, dorky, always telling lame jokes.

“Do you know one direction?”

I waited for his reply, this one took longer than our previous ongoing conversation. I didn't like it when he replied late.

“Yes.”

“Olivia introduced me to them.”

“Who do you like the best?”

I didn't even have to think about it at all, “Harry styles.”

I hoped he was smiling, where ever he was.

“Really? Not my personal favourite.”

That idiot. My face was hurting from smiling so much. I wondered how I would even be in this guy's presence without physically hurting my cheeks.

But I knew I wouldn't mind it, as long as I could be with him.

“Who do you like then?”

“You.”

I had never known how successful my dream of becoming a journalist could be. All I knew of back then was my talent for writing and my passion to make my voice heard. And it was all I had ever needed.

Rolling Stone was a magazine only a few could say they were not familiar with. And even fewer who wrote for it.

I was one lucky girl, who worked through countless unpaid internships before finally landing a job at this prestigious place. I had written quite a few articles under the politics section of the magazine.

I kept up with Harry over the years, at this point I knew basically everything about him, except for what he did for a living, where he lived, and who he was. But I loved him. And I waited for him, even if did get tiring at times.

Everywhere I went, it felt like everyone had found their soulmates except for me. I was the one girl standing alone in the middle of a dance floor during a couple's song.

All these years he still seemed none the closer to me.

We still found joy in tripping each other during random hours of the day though; Falling for him was the highlight of my day.

"Maybe if I yank it hard enough, I'll pull him to me."

I had a rocky relationship with my parents, they had never believed in me, too busy in their own love story to pay attention to their only daughter. I couldn't hold it against them though if you had something as beautiful as they did, why would you focus on anything else.

I sigh in bitterness as my Mom rambled on about how she met my Dad. Although I had heard the story a billion times, it still made me smile. Then, reminded me how I didn't have that.

My phone started vibrating next to me, I looked at it to find it was my boss calling me. I tilted my head upwards, trying to recall if I had informed her of my visit to my parents' house. I had.

Confused, I picked up the phone, "Y/N, you need to come to the office now. We need you to take over the article Rob Sheffield was supposed to write," my boss's commanding voice instantly hits my ears, making me flinch backwards.

"Wait, what?"

"Rob had an urgent business to attend to and you are the only replacement available." Her voice carried her usual urgency.

"But Rob is a music journalist, I write politics." Her words were rushing past me and it was getting harder for me to keep up.

"Obviously I know that, but as I said you are the only replacement available, everyone else is already working on their pieces. Come to the office and get your assignment. Now." When I was told my boss did not joke around, they were not kidding.

As soon as she hung up, I started packing up my stuff. I explained to my Mom about the situation, her shoulders slumped, I knew she really wanted to spend more time with me, but she sighed, nodding her head in understanding.

Walking into the Rolling Stone's office every day still brought me back to my first day here. When I was a twenty-three-year-old naive girl, with a heart full of determination and a head full of ideas.

The elevator doors opened and my eyes fell upon the old Rolling Stone covers hung from the wall, they looked like gold records in a music studio. I walked down the lobby to the reception and asked Ally if my boss was available.

I knocked at her door, patiently waiting for her to invite me in. Three years later and I was still deathly afraid of her.

"Y/n, you are going to interview Harry Styles. You'll leave for LA tomorrow morning, and meet him first thing after landing, hang out with him a couple days, get to know him, this is going to be the cover story. I know music is not your department but right now I really don't have any other option. Do your research all day today, we'll publish the article in next month's issue. It better be good." She clicked her fingers, pointing them at me and then shooed me away from the entrance of her cabin.

"Harry Styles huh," I walked towards my desk remembering all the late-night dance parties I had with Liv and Ashley during college, blasting all of One direction's hits, discussing fan theories and whatnot.

The familiar pull nay yank brought me back to the present, on my office floor, with my colleagues watching over the all too familiar scene.

A smile graced my lips, at this point I had lost the ability to feel shame. I sat down on my desk and pulled at my thread.

“You will pay for this.”

“I am ready when you are, Lovie.”

How was our relationship ever going to work if I was ready to melt any time he called me that.

I knew he was waiting for me to trip him, but I didn't. I would get him when he wouldn't expect it. Not today sir, not today.

I went to start researching on Harry Styles and preparing my questions for tomorrow. A groan escaped my lips as I slammed my forehead on the table, this was not enough time.

Harry Styles was a multi-millionaire, platinum record selling artist with millions of fans. He was portrayed to be this womaniser, who played with people's hearts. But, the first thing I learnt about him during my research was of his kind heart.

I surfed through countless videos of his interactions with fans, clips from his concerts, conversations with paparazzi and not once did I find him in a bad mood or as someone less than the absolute model of perfection. Everybody had bad days, well everyone but Mr.Styles apparently.

As someone only writing about the people in power; the politicians, the stark deviance from my usual subjects was a well-welcomed change.

He was a part of various charities, always preaching about love and kindness. Honestly, I was a little jealous of how lucky his soulmate was, to have someone like him.

After reading possibly everything I could about Harry, I started working on the questions I would ask him. I was determined to know how he managed to be the way he was. How he remained calm even after constantly being harassed by fans and paps alike; How after all these years, he still didn't let the fame get to his head.

I woke up the next morning feeling weird tingles in my stomach, I wasn't able to determine if it was good or bad. I went about my usual routine trying to ignore the tingly feeling. I read through my questions again, I had formed a sort of admiration for Harry (the singer) and I wasn't going to embarrass myself when it mattered the most.

I checked myself in the mirror one last time, feeling good with the outfit I went for- a tan, high-waisted lace-up jumpsuit. My confident outfit seemed like compensation for the nerves running through my body.

My mind wandered to my soulmate for a second, wondering what he must be up to right now. I looked up at myself in the mirror again and saw the smile on my face. Only for you, partner. I shook my head, picked up my suitcase and left for the airport.

The last thing I wanted to do after a six-hour flight was to meet an international celebrity, but I shrugged, a job was a job.

The deli we were supposed to meet at was a quaint place, the two ladies working there were incredibly sweet. They greeted me with the widest smiles and escorted me to a semi-secluded corner when I told them about the purpose of my visit. They doted about Harry, who I concluded was a regular here, calling him 'my love'.

Harry hadn't arrived yet and I was starving, the fragrance of different foods in the deli wafted to my nose, serving as a constant reminder of my hunger. The ladies whose names I had learnt to be Gloria and Raisa noticed my condition and offered to bring me a sandwich, but I declined the offer, not wanting to order before Harry's arrival, considering it to be a bit rude.

But, ever the saviour Harry entered the deli soon after, I admit I released a long breath in relief, I would finally get to order.

Harry's presence was like a force of nature, no one could escape it. I stood up from my seat, without thinking twice as if something compelled me to honour it. I couldn't pry my eyes away from him, and I didn't want to. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Every step of his brought him closer to me, the weird tingles I had been feeling all morning intensified, crawling up to every part of my body. I wanted something, anything to help me ground myself.

My hands frantically searched around for my thread, and as soon as my fingers made contact with the string of fate, the familiar calm washed over me.

Maybe in my frantic state, I pulled the string too hard. I winced, almost closing my eyes as Harry's expression changed into one of panic, his eyes widening as he fell forward. I worried about my Harry as well, realising how hard I must have pulled the thread.

Oh.

OH.

I rushed towards Harry, helping him up. When my hand touched his bicep, a warmth started flooding through my veins, locking eyes with him, I knew he was experiencing the same thing as well.

We both looked down towards our hands and a red string was seen connecting our pinkies. We met each other's eyes again.

"Hi," he gave me a toothy grin. I could die a thousand times for his smile.

"Hello," his eyes, a little sunken, were the most beautiful green I had ever seen, I could spend a lifetime getting lost in them.

"Well since I've already fallen for you, how abou' we go out to eat something. Oh wait, we're already here." His chest was out, and his eyes gleamed at his statement, he was weirdly proud of his jokes.

My entire body shook, I didn't know if I was laughing at his ‘Pick up line' or the situation. I was standing in front of my soulmate, whom I've pined after all my life, only for him to turn out to be Harry fucking Styles.

His brows furrowed in concern as I continued laughing, even he realised his joke was not funny enough to prompt this big of a guffaw.

I took a step back, my hands reaching up to rest on the sides of my face, tears were streaming down my face from laughing too much. Harry's contorted face making me laugh louder. I could not stop.

He reached out his hands and wrapped them around mine. I noted how big his hands were compared to mine, warmer too. "Hey, are you okay?"

I nodded my head, taking deep breaths to calm myself. When I seemed to have a hold on my laugh, another round burst from me. I started shaking again.

At this point, Harry had given up on me and started laughing as well. We were garnering unneeded attention but we couldn't stop. I noticed from the corner of my eyes, Gloria and Raisa were hovering around us protectively, not letting anyone come near us. Angels.

After several minutes or hours, we stopped for good. And even though my stomach was hurting like a bitch, my smile couldn't have been wider.

"So, it's you huh," I started, bringing Harry to my table, "My soulmate heh." My palms were getting sweaty, I tried to subtly wipe them on my pants.

He sat across me, reaching out and grabbing my hands in his again. I changed our hand positions, interlocking my fingers with his. The red string between us lengthening and shortening constantly, conforming to our movements.

He nodded, a smile ever-present on his face. He released a small breath, his shoulders slumped slightly, "I've dreamed of this moment for years. It's good to finally meet you, Lovie."

A weird gurgle-like sound left my mouth. My eyes widened as I covered my mouth, horrified and embarrassed at the same time.

He just looked amused, raising his eyebrows as if to ask me what the fuck was that.

"It's just, it keeps hitting me that this moment is real. That you are here in front of me and you are the Harry Styles-" my eyes continued to dart down to the striking red colour of the thread I was so accustomed to not seeing "-But like you are also just Harry, who I've known all my life."

"I get tha', I do," he nodded fervently, "All my life, I pictured a faceless girl when I imagined a life with you. Now everything seems complete, like the final piece of the puzzle has been placed and I can see my life as a whole picture and I see you with me," he then shrugged his shoulders, wanting to be seen nonchalant.

Hearing him reflect on everything that I've been feeling as well, brought tears in my eyes. He noticed my eyes getting glassy,

"Was it too much too soon?" His fingers were slightly tapping on the table, he kept looking down at our joined hands and biting his lips. My eyes fell to his lips, I hadn't noticed how pink they were.

"No, no, not at all," my hold on his hands tightened as I shook my head, trying to ease his nerves as well.

I went silent for a minute, not sure if I should continue before starting to tap a pattern on the table. One I hoped he would get without having to write it down.

“I love you.”

If the smile on his face were to say anything, it was that he got it. Of course, he would.

Our fingers started to tingle, pulling our attention towards them as we watched the red string starting to disappear.

When it seemed to be fully gone, I traced my hand around the table, checking if I could still feel it, I couldn't. It had really gone away.

I knew this would happen, but it didn't make saying goodbye any easier. Harry brought our hands together again, catching my attention again, "I don't need the string any more, I have you in my arms now." He rested his forehead on mine, breathing slowly.

He then brought my hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on my knuckles. Causing a soft gasp to leave my lips. I swear he would kill me one day.

"I love you too, Lovie."

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #soulmate au #fluff #harry styles fluff #invisible string #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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mortalfaerie · 3 years ago

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STRANDED IN TIME (M. F.) 2/?

Matthew Fairchild x Lost Herondale! Reader

Y/N Herondale gets her just deserts when snooping in Cirenworth's attic sends her back over 100 years.

An indeterminate amount of time passed as you drifted in and out of consciousness. You recalled a silent brother standing over you, buts of hushed and worried conversation, and one occasion when you woke to Tessa sitting by your side, a cold cloth on your forehead and her mixing a tincture by your bedside.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak in your current state, but remembered vaguely that Tessa excelled in healing magic. You tried to reach out to her, but found you lost consciousness again before you could.

When you finally did wake without horrible pain, you found yourself in a narrow bed, in a cotton nightgown you'd never seen, but unmistakably in the London Institute's infirmary, the painted ceiling distinct.

What happened? Did Tessa and Jem take you here because you had been sick? Was Kit okay? Where was everyone? These questions pounded in your head as you stood from the bed, and cautiously padded to the double doors leading to the hallway. You opened the door to look out, but found Tessa and two people you didn't know - one being the man who had carried you - talking outside the door. They all looked to you, pausing, and then Tessa exclaimed, "Oh goodness, you're awake at last."

"I- what happened? Where's Kit? Why are we in London?" You asked, looking rapidly from person to person.

"You should have a seat, if you're able." said the other person - a petite woman of perhaps 40 or 50.

"What's going on?" you asked again, increasingly alarmed. "Is Kit okay? Where's my brother? I want to see him!"

"I'm sure we can help you find your brother as soon as we know who you are." The taller man assured you.

You looked again to Tessa, exasperated. "Tessa, what's going on? You know me, I- Kit and I live with you and Jem and Mina in Devonshire." Your voice started to wobble as panic set in.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't think that we've ever met before now." Tessa said, her face earnestly confused.

Tears spilled over your cheeks as you looked desperately to the other two adults.

"I'm Y/N Herondale." You choked out. "My little brother is Kit, you took us in after our dad was killed. We used to live in Los Angeles but we moved here after the Cohort - Tessa, please, you have to remember me."

At the name Herondale, all parties looked shocked and concerned. You cried earnestly now, shocked and panicked and feeling like you were living in a waking nightmare. You didn't pay much mind as they sheparded you into a chair in the infirmary, and the man called for tea from the kitchen. A blanket was draped around your shoulders, lest you go into shock, and when tea was pressed into your hands you finally ceased crying.

"Now," Tessa said softly, seated beside you and across from the others, "Why don't you tell us from the beginning what you remember, Y/N."

With a shuddering breath, you began. "My name is Y/N Herondale. My dad was Johnny Rook, and my mother was Rosemary Herondale. My mom died before I can remember, and only a bit after my brother Kit was born. We grew up with mundanes were always told we just had the true sight and to be quiet about it, until the day demons attacked my dad at our house, and Kit and I barely escaped with Jem Carstairs and -" you looked to Tessa, "You. We lived in the Los Angeles Institute for a bit, but eventually we decided to go to England with you and Jem when you offered - you said it was because we were the lost Herondale siblings, and that you owed a debt to the Herondales."

You looked to the man and woman across from you, silently imploring if you should continue. The man, who's black hair was flecked with gray and who's blue eyes mirrored your own, cleared his throat.

"Y/N, my name is William Herondale, and this is my wife, Tessa Herondale. And next to me is Charlotte Fairchild, the consul. We don't know how you happened to get here, but rest assured, you will not be turned away."

You could have cried again for relief, but you steeled yourself when the consul nodded to you. "Do you remember what happened before you were discovered outside?"

You nodded slowly. "I was at Cirenworth Hall. Tessa - my Tessa, I guess - gave me a book to read and it inspired me to look around in the attic, and I found something in a box. I - I can't remember what it was, but I remember feeling sick suddenly, and then I was lying in the grass with Jessamine over me."

"You could see Jessamine?" Charlotte asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah, my brother and I could both see ghosts after we got our voyance marks. Some that other people can't see, too." You said.

Tessa and Will exchanged a glance, and Will spoke. "That would give credence to your claim of being a Herondale. The issue is, however, that the only living Herondales are myself, my family here, and my sister, now Cecily Lightwood. Our father had a brother, but he and his wife both died before they had any children."

"But his name was Tobias, right?" You asked, gears beginning to turn in your head.

"Yes, actually." Will said, raising an eyebrow. "How would you know that?"

"Because Tobias Herondale was my ancestor. He had a son no one knew about, and that son married a faerie woman..." you trailed off. "And eventually, I happened."

"That raises another question, then." Charlotte said, her expression speculative. "If you are a Herondale, and you bear marks, how is the clave unaware of you?"

"I think," you began, bracing yourself to be called crazy. "That maybe I'm not from this time, or this dimension. I think something I did in the attic sent me here, wherever here is."

"London." Tessa supplied, "July, 1903."

You stood up in shock. "1903? You can't be serious! I - how? I wasn't even born until 1997 - oh my god, Kit, I can't -"

"Y/N!" Tessa exclaimed, placing her hands on your shoulders to push you back in your seat. "Please, calm down, I'm afraid you'll make yourself sick."

You let her push you back into your seat, but stared blankly at the floor as your jaw worked.

"Is such a thing possible?" Will asked quietly to Charlotte.

"To have travelled through time? Not as I know it, but perhaps it could be a cruel faerie trick? It's known that time moves differently in the faerie realms." She replied, still cautious in her tone.

You brought your arms around yourself and hugged your sides as the gravity of your situation set in. Kit - oh god, was he looking for you? Would they know to look in the attic? What would happen to your little makeshift family? You heaved a sob, and the attention of the adults turned back to you.

Tessa - motherly Tessa - let propriety slip and pulled you to her side, and you clung to her for dear life. The consul came closer and passed a comforting hand over your hair.

"No matter how you came to be here," she said softly, "You are a nephilim, and you are displaced and distressed, and so you will always be supported at this Institute. We will do all we can to discern this situation, but you will be in good hands with Tessa and Will."

You hiccuped and met her eyes, seeing genuine compassion in them. She offered you a hesitant smile, and turned to Tessa.

"She will remain here until we are able to reverse this. I will confer with the Silent Brothers on this matter, and see if they know of any case like this. Until then, perhaps she will be treated as a ward of the Institute?"

Tessa nodded, her hold on you still firm. "Of course. We'll see to it."

Will went to see the consul out, and Tessa stayed behind, with you still holding onto her. "Y/N?" she asked, all gentleness and care in her voice. You wanted to believe this was your Tessa, the one who had become like a mother to you, but this Tessa knew nothing of you at all.

"Yes?" you said, your voice hoarse from crying.

"I don't know how you've come here, but I want you to know - I trust what you say. I have seen many impossible things, but still I am met with surprises. I also know that since I am a warlock - I am fated to live many, many years. If you truly were not born until 90 years from now, it's possible you know me in your time. I am sorry that I don't know you, but know that you are safe here."

You squeezed her, and managed to say, "Thank you. You've always been so kind to me. I - I'm glad I crash landed somewhere with you here."

#the last hours #cassandra clare #the infernal devices #the shadowhunter chronicles #the dark artifices #the mortal instruments #the last hours imagine #matthew fairchild x reader #matthew fairchild imagine #mathew fairchild

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thekillingjoke-haha · 4 years ago

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Love And Marriage

Spnquotebingo @spnquotebingo

Quote: You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people.–Lucifer

Mostly Memory: slant/bold. Quote:small/bold

"What the hell, Anthony!" She yelled scaring both brunettes in the bed she shared with him. The women who looked half her age scrambled off the bed in a rush and ran out of the room getting dressed as she ran out the tower. This time she was throwing objects at the genius screaming and swearing every word under the sun. And yes this wasn't the first time, but its sure as hell will be the last. "How could you do this to me!? Time and time again I forgive and you do it again!!" She tried taking control of her emotions, but they over took her and laid everything out on the table.

Tony slipped on his clothes yelling back and forth with his wife. It was a screaming match that all of New York could hear. "Maybe if you weren't such a controlling bitch I wouldn't need to rush into the arms of a women that would get off my back!" He yelled back and she was stunned into silence. Tony continued talking. "Ever since we been together you've been trying to change who I am and I got sick of it, but you were America's golden girl I couldn't dump you. You just couldn't take the hint ,sweetheart." He finished his intoxicated words got the better of him, but drunk words were sober thoughts and maybe this is exactly how he felt after all these years.

"I want a divorce." She said her voice shaking not wanting to cry in front of the man she loved and she thought loved her back. "What?!" He turned on his heels and stared at her the shouting didn't sober him up, but those four words did. "What did you say?" He asked as if he didn't hear her. "I'm through, Tony. I'm tired of this back and forth. You said it yourself your not willing to change your partying playboy ways so I'm through." She said as she went to get her phone to call her brother. "I want a divorce." Those were the final words uttered to him before she stopped talking to him all together taking off the ring made from the metal of his original reactor the diamond glowing the same blue that lulled her to sleep. Y/n twirled the ring in-between her fingers a nervous habit after the years.

Steve got to the tower from his apartment along with Bucky and Sam. His two friends walked into her bedroom to hear Tony shouting and pleading for her to listen to him. Steve went to his sister as his friends pulled the thrashing man out of the room and to a different part of the building so he could cool off. Tony in the end didn't calm down and was getting violent to the point they had to knock him out and by then Y/n was getting packed with the help of Steve

The suitcase was harshly zipped up as she rushed closing it. Tears flowed freely down her face as she packed all her things well all the things she bought herself. She wasn't running, running was for cowards she was escaping before she drowned herself in whatever kind of love she once had with her husband. Y/n breathed in through her nose as her body convulsed with another fit of silent sobs. Trying to calm down she wanted to get think clear. Did she really want to leave? No, but he didn't give her much of a choice. The light tan line on her finger just further proved she wasn't turning back...not this time. Not even for him. Y/n needed time to think without the threat of the end of the world and out from under her now ex's crushing ego.

She was shacking with anger and in grief it happened again and she was done with it all. Tony fucking Stark her husband, lover, best friend cheated on her again for the third time that she knew of. Y/n saw it she was always there at the wrong time almost like he wanted her to see how pleased he was with another. Steve came out of the bathroom with more hygiene products. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?" He asked for what feels like the hundredth time. Steve knew Y/n wasn't okay he could see it and the sight made him want to rip Stark a new one. With a deep inhale she looked up at him with s slight smile as real as she could make it. "I'm okay I just need to get out of here. Fresh air. New scenery if possible." She said as she looked longingly at a picture on the nightstand not noticing that her brother left with her bags while she stared off. The picture was of her fifth date with Tony after being together as boyfriend and girlfriend for two years, a light festival their first openly public date for cameras to capture them together making it official. America's Sweetheart with a Playboy billionaire...that headline alone should have been the first of many red flags.

The memory played vividly in her mind. Her eyes shined like stars as she dragged him behind her. It was still light outside and the small park was crowded. "Come on, Tones!" She said excitedly as she dragged him along. Many people looked at them and whispered, but they didn't care. They spent the night talking about any and everything it felt so natural. Y/n stared into the sky on their picnic blanket having already painted her lantern with a good amount of wet paint still on her hands. "We've been on what feels like a million dates and this seems like the perfect one to ask you. Will you marry me?" Tony said holding a black velvet box with a f/c diamond ring. "I thought you'll never ask!" She pulled him into a kiss paint covering his cheeks as lanterns where released. He kissed back hands resting on her hips. "Let's go home Mrs.Stark-Rogers." Tony said with a smile. "Well come on then Mr.Rogers-Stark." He was once again dragged away. "No no no my name first Steve will not hold that over me!" Y/n giggled as the memory faded into a much older one.

The twelve year old girl was getting her hair brushed by her mother. "Mama what's love like. I know you love daddy so what's it like?" She asked it's been two years since her father died ,but her mother always said she stilled loves him. "Love is a amazing feeling that doesn't happen often and sometimes it can hurt." The blonde women said to her daughter she couldn't tell her wanting love cost more then giving it. "Why will it hurt?" The young h/c girl asked turning around. "You're to young to know right now, but at some point you will." By the time Y/n turned fifteen she learned that loving someone can hurt after she stood next to her brother and best friend looking at the slab of stone that marked their mother's grave.

The first time it happened she was pissed, but not at the right person at the time. The second red flag.. Screams are what filled the house as Y/n threw clothes at the tramp that was in bed with her drunk husband. She was so anger, but that just hid the pain she was feeling three years for him to cheat. After shutting the half clothes harlot out on the front porch of the Malibu home she stormed back to Tony. He stayed in his boxers on the bed looking dazed he was drunk. "Why?" Is all she could ask as tears fell down her cheeks. The billionaire stood up and walked toward her he wiped her tears. "I'll change. I promise." He kissed her head. She believed him she had faith that he couldn't change for them. After all Y/n did the same she gave up being a hero along side her brother because he told her he already worries about getting home to her as Ironman no need to add the stress of not knowing if she'll get home. So she hung up her red, white, and blue catsuit for him.

After a year Y/n sat in her art studio wear she sold her and other rising artist artwork after Tony said she shouldn't paint in the tower,she painted with her brother laughing messing with colors. She was thankful she put down plastic tarp beforehand a giggle rang out when Natasha walked through the door. Without saying anything she drops a magazine on the table of brushes next to Y/n. On the cover was Tony kissing some red head though a window tears welled in her eyes as she wiped her hands he eyes not leaving the cover till it was picked up off the table. Natasha comforted her as Steve took the magazine and paced. " Am I stupid for trusting him? Thinking he would change?" She asked as the waterworks flowed. "No ,if anyone is stupid its him. Ever since he came out as Ironman he thought he was untouchable. God imma kill him!" The red head said while Steve was flexing his hand not wanting to hit any of the stored art pieces. The third red flag for all to see.

The bus rocked back and forth as she looked over at her brother sleeping next to her. They were heading to the airport and he was going to see her off before possibly killing Tony. Speaking of she looked down at her phone and saw dozens of missed calls and hundreds of unread text. She felt that the world was so much bigger after leaving, after getting away from the place that no longer felt like a home. Turning back to the window a memory came to surface as a teenage girl sat on the bus watching old Brooklyn go by. She thought life was so slow she wanted to grow up faster and experience life. Y/n wanted to find love like her parents had. "What are you thinking about doll?" She turned and in Steve's place was Bucky her adoptive big brother. "Nothing important, James." She said with a sigh as the old modeled cares turned back to modern vehicles and yellow taxi's.

Tony woke up and ran around the tower while calling and texting his wife. "Friday track Y/n' s phone. He said as he went to the lab to get in his suit. "She's as NYC airline." The irish voice answered as he stepped into the suit letting it close around him. Before the hatch could open completely he was flying out of the tower to the airport. "Any idea which flight?" He asked wanting to get there before it's to late. "No boss, but the next flight leaving is heading for U.K and boarding in fifteen minutes." Time was running out he needed ever second he could spare. "We'll make it in ten." That night Ironman flew to save whatever he had left.

Y/n held her ticket in her shaking hands her breath uneven. Steve left after the bus dropped her off they said their goodbyes not making the separation hurt any less. Her thoughts came back to Tony all the good times made her smile, but the dark clouds took them over soon after. It felt so right to be in his arms thinking about the future they had with each other within seconds that became a distant memory. What's sad is she wants to go back wondering if she held on to those moments longer they'll last forever. The ring she slipped back on her finger weighed a ton. Y/n didn't have the strength to take it off not for good at least and this made her feel weak. Pain was heavy in her heart from the constant ache, but the little voice kept saying maybe if we tried harder he would have loved us the way we love him, maybe rushing into a relationship wasn't the best idea, maybe he's happier without us ,maybe not telling him about the positive test was the best option ,maybe...maybe.

A hand resting on her stomach she wanted to laugh, but that would have brought on a fresh wave of tears. She started off the day without Tony in bed and sicker then she's been since her pre-serum years. Y/n went to the doctor completely covered form any prying eyes and the test were clear she couldn't believe it she took about ten test in her studio bathroom before heading back to the tower. Howard warned her and Steve that the serum might sterilize them, but at the time both of them were to small and sickly and she knew getting pregnant might kill her anyways so they both agreed to it. Y/n wished she could hug the man today he made her better and let her have a gift she never thought was possible. A baby was growing inside her. Tony never really talked about kids and neither did she since that wasn't a possibility before, but the moment she held five of the clearer test she wanted to rush into his arms and have him be the first to know. That quickly fell apart that evening and now she's here.

The suit landed out side the airport and Tony immediately ran out of it into the building looking through his tented shades he followed the path Friday set for him rushing through security. "Now boarding flight A145 to United Kingdom. Ahora aborda—" The intercom rang out. He was running out of time. There he saw h/c hair one of a couple dozen in line due to the oddly timed flight. "Y/N!!" Many heads turned at the shout while so gasped and whispers started. She looked at him and froze. His eyes looked bloodshot and he wore baggy sweats and a AC/DC shirt. Turning back around she tried to get on the plane quicker, but a hand grabbed her arm. "Please listen to me. I'm so so sorry! I'm a fucking moron okay? I know I just keep screwing up between us and I know you're tired of me saying I'll change, but if it means I keep you in my life I'll do damn near anything." Tony's voice shook as his eyes welled with tears people crowed to see the Starks some seemed to clued in on the subject while others were lost. "You can't fix this Tony. There's nothing to fix between us you said your piece and actions speak louder then words there is no saving this." Y/n whimpered holding her hand in her own.

"I can save us, N/n! Please just give me a chance too. You and me against the world right?" She shook her head no as she looked into his brown eyes with her glassy e/c ones. "Wrong. You just don't get it do you? You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people. And I gave you more then enough chances to change because God I changed so much for you!! I gave up saving people, gave up painting in the tower, stopped helping Pepper with business, stopped going to briefings, and so much more. All for you and you couldn't do one thing for me." With quivering hands she gently brushed the tears from his cheeks letting her hands go from his shoulders to his hands. "I loved you, Anthony. I always will have a special place in my heart for you, but clearly the same doesn't go for you." Y/n now held one of his hands bringing his knuckles to her lips giving them a chaste kiss.

She let go of his hand as she stepped back from him many of the passengers having already boarded the plane. "Don't say goodbye." He said voice small and weak. "...don't think of this as a goodbye. We just met at the wrong time in the wrong place. Maybe I'll come back to you and just maybe we can start again from the beginning, but until then this is a see you later." She turned and went on board as he stood their feet glued the the floor. Looking down at the hand she held the ring sat in his palm she left him with a piece of his heart while she took the rest with her. What is a marriage without love

————————————————————————————————————————————

A/n this is the second to last one before the full masterlist is posted. Fyi I wrote a happy ending and if it's really wanted I'll make a short one-shot of it but angst ending for now.

Next quote is a free space and I'm going ham!!!!

#spnquotebingo #tony stark #tony stark x reader #cheating #quote bingo #pregnant!reader #divorce #angst #no happy ending #steve rogers #Rogers!reader #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #heart break

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

Text

❛ A MIRACLE ❜

with Angel Reyes.

Warnings: none, just a lot of fluffiness.

Word count: about 1.5k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

Masterlist.

You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“Where you at, mi dulce?”

“I'm with Pop”.

“He okay?”

“Kinda like. He called me because he wasn't feeling good. Stomach ache. But, don' worry. I prepared him a good dinner. Why don' you come with EZ?”

“Yeah, okay. We're on our way”.

Hanging up the call, you frown at Felipe, who is not paying attention to your indications, setting the table with some grunts. Rolling your eyes, you walk towards him to take the cutlery off from his hands.

“Pop, sit down, please”.

“I wanna help, mija”.

“You help me sitting down”. Chuckling, you continue the task, hearing him complaining in murmurs. “Your boys are coming too”.

“Good”.

Coming back to the kitchen, you take a spoon of soap to taste the salt in it. It's perfect and the smell is simply delicious. You couldn't imagine almost a year ago that you would be the connection between the three Reyes, after what Angel told you about his family. With your eyes fixed on Marisol's urn, you can't help but pucker your lips with a soft smile on them. She would be proud. And you would have liked to meet her. Your boyfriend always says that she would have loved you, and you can't agree more. Sometimes you find yourself talking to her about her family, about what they have done through the day, or even about you. You understand Felipe. You understand why he does it. Sometimes it helps, feeling like if she actually was listening to you.

Bringing the saucepan to the table, placing it over a wooden board, taking off the cover to put it aside. Felipe leans forward, getting a whiff from it with both eyes closed. The pleased humm in his throat makes you know that he is delighted.

“Smells good, mija”.

“Tastes better, you'll see”. Palming his shoulder, you turn to the window next to the main door.

The characteristic sound, which you are used to living with, is increasing as the motorcycles drive through the neighborhood until parking in front of the house. Going to the entrance, you wait for them resting your body against the frame. Getting off from their bikes, EZ smirks at you when he's able to hug you tightly, upstairs. Pecking your cheek, he comes inside to greet his grumpy father. In the meantime that your boyfriend embraces you closer, resting his forehead over your chest, curving a little his back.

“Been all day without seeing you”. He mutters, raising his face to reach your lips.

A softly and slow kiss caresses them, taking his time to enjoy your warmth, wrapping him with both arms.

“You missed me?”

“A lot, mi angelito”. You say with a honeyed tone of voice. “C'mon. Dinner is gonna get cold”.

“Yeah”. He nods.

His heavy steps go straight to his father, placing a kiss on top of his head.

“What's up, Pop?” Angel asks sitting at the table, by his left.

“Jezz, it smells so good, (Y/N)”. EZ says, waiting for you to serve the soup. “What's in it?”

“Rice and chicken. A classic”. You reply very proudly.

When the dinner is finished and the younger Reyes has taken charge of cleaning the kitchen, you share some beers in the living room watching a movie. Ezekiel is now lying on the recliner next to Pop's couch, while your boyfriend and you are sharing the sofa behind them. You actually aren't paying attention to the TV. Facing each other, with a leg over his, your arms are tangled on his neck and his on your waist. You love that sofa because, even if it's a little small for you two, that let you be so, so close. Traveling one of your hands to his right cheekbone, you caress it with your fingertips before touring his dense beard covering the line of his jaw. Angel has his eyes closed, peacefully breathing, but awake. Just enjoying your displays of love. Almost one year, and you keep falling for him every day a little more.

Bowing slightly, you press his cheek with your lips, leaving soft and shorts kisses not wanting to disturb his calm. But you kiss every single inch of his face; his temple, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, the tip of it, his chin. Until reaching his lips. At first, it's just an ephemeral taste. The beer on them gets mixed with your. He licks himself slowly, drawing a light smile on them waiting for another one. Touching his nose with yours, you kiss him again. His arms hold you a little closer, a little tightly, needing your proximity. You two look like two teens under EZ and Pop's eyes, who smile delighted looking at each other. And there's nothing sexual there. You could spend hours kissing him, just enjoying his tongue playing with yours and running out of air, to end up laughing. Your hand caresses his throat, while your lips continue dancing with his in a romantic and a measured improvisate choreography. You can feel his warm breathing, through his nose, colliding to your skin. With your leg around his waist, you push him so much closer until there's no distance between your chests.

You don't know how you have been living without him all your life. Angel either. Everybody says that you're like the light that illuminated his darkness, that he has changed since you met, to a small extent. Now he's more well-balanced. He thinks before acting. And he is mostly wearing a kind smile, good-humored. You know all his secrets, all his fears, all his insecurities; and for Angel is amazing how, knowing everything about him, you are still loving him without judging. Helping him to be his best version. Not only that, but helping him to have a close relationship with Felipe. That man is pig-headed to the limits, but he appreciates and loves you since the moment Angel introduces you. He is the first one who began to see the change in his son.

When your lips get separated in a clingy way, as if they were stuck, Angel is looking at you with a gaze full of love. Hiding his face on the gap of your neck, he takes a long deep breath of your scent, putting his lips there to kiss your skin so gently that gives you some nice chills. Your fingertips stroke his scalp, while he looks for some more calm.

“How I have been so lucky to find you?” You whisper into his ear, feeling his mouth curving in a fleeting smile. Just for a moment.

“I'm the lucky one, mi dulce”. He replies without hesitation, and a purr fixed in his throat. “Te amo”.

“Y yo a ti, mi angelito”.

Molding your body to his and resting your head over the cushion, you close your eyes. After a long day at the hospital, you are so tired that you don't care to fall asleep there. And it doesn't take you too much time, focused on Angel's breathing and his hands caressing your back. The only thing you feel after that, as if it was part of your dreams, is the brief weight of a blanket covering you two and a kiss on your forehead. Tightening your arms around your boyfriend by inertia, you continue immersed in your sleep.

Waking up bit by bit, hearing some noises inside the kitchen, you turn on the sofa. Angel isn't there anymore. Ezekiel and Felipe either. Getting up and stretching your back and arms, you walk barefoot following their voices.

“... and sometimes I find her talking to your mother”.

“How's tha'?” Angel whispers a little confused, having a sip from his mug.

“Yeah. When she's here, she talks to her. About you, about me, about your brother”. Felipe explains. “I really like her for you, mijo. She cares about you”.

“I know, Pop”.

“Good morning”.

Coming into the kitchen, after some seconds of silence, the three men turn at you to greet you.

“Buenos días, Marisol”. You mumble, slightly touching the urn, before continuing to kiss every man there.

Sitting on Angel's lap, you steal his coffee to drink it, hiding a delighted smile against the porcelain.

“You slept well?” He asks, placing a kiss on your shoulder. You just nod, putting an arm behind his neck. “Good… Plans fo' today?”

“Nothing, actually. Got a day off. Maybe I'll go to see Bishop. He told me that he needs some help with one of Vicki's girls”.

“Hm”.

“Feeling better, Pop?” Turning to the old man, he smirks at you. “Not lying to make me leave?”

“Not lying, mija. Your soup was like a miracle”.

“She is a miracle, papa”. Angel replies, rolling his eyes as if it wasn't obvious.

“And more like a trouble when she gets drunk”. Ezekiel laughs loudly, probably referring to the last Mayan party where you drank too much and maybe you lost control a little.

“Shut up, prospect”. Hitting his shoulder, you end up laughing too. “Anyway, call me if you feel sick again, okay? Got nothing important to do today”.

“I will keep it in mind, mija”.

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc #mayans x reader #angel reyes x reader

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sharkbait77 · 4 years ago

Text

The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Chapter Three

Warnings: Mention of food/alcohol, language, pure fluffy fluffiness (I'm such a softie I'm sorry 😭)

W/C: 4.2k

A/N: Notes at the bottom! And I'm running out of gifs to use of scruffy faced Marcus. I'm gonna have to shave him soon 👀 I hope you enjoy our soft boi in this chapter! 🥰

Just as a reference if you need help understanding the different formats:

«Phone conversation on their end»

Thoughts

Text messages

Song mentioned:

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

Gif by me! Yes it's Teresa but it still fits & I only care that it's his hand lol

«Oh my god, I'm melting!» Celina yells in her phone enthusiastically. You giggle as you wait for her eagerness to calm down.

You had barely taken your shoes and jacket off after getting inside your apartment when you immediately dialed up Celina's number to tell her about the night. You feel like you're having an out of body experience. Sure, your heart is still guarded and unfortunately, you'll most likely have your doubts throughout the relationship, but you truly feel like this could go somewhere. You want to give yourself that chance and allow Marcus to help heal your heart, maybe doing the same for him in return.

"So he's picking me up on Saturday and I'm freaking out a little," you say and chew on the skin around your nail beds.

«Why? Don't be! Just treat it like how you did tonight!» She encourages.

"But it's a legitimate date this time, I have to do my hair and makeup perfectly and find the perfect outfit and-"

«Girl, have you seen your closet? You have nothing but perfect outfits!» She teases and you chuckle, lowering your fingers from your mouth.

«You don't need to try to be perfect hun, just be yourself! Be the girl he has already seen in front of him.» You smile at her heartfelt words. «I bet he's already in love with you!»

"Okay, you're not helping!" You laugh, placing your hand on your forehead. "I'll talk to you later, I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll probably be calling you on Saturday so I can freak out some more."

You say your goodbyes and hang up, sinking yourself into your couch and smiling widely. Your head is buzzing from a sugar rush, but you can't tell if it's because of the pancakes or because of Marcus. You walk to the kitchen to make some sleepytime tea, hoping it'll relax your nerves enough for you to get some shut eye.

* * * *

You take a shower and climb into your comfy pajamas and the tea works its magic as you relax on your plush bed, surrounding yourself with pillows and your soft blanket enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes get heavy and you feel yourself on the brink of sleep when you hear your phone vibrate on the nightstand. You try to ignore it, but it vibrates again and you figure it's Celina probably sending you a funny video. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you reach over to grab your phone, the brightness from the screen stinging your eyes from the time they had adjusted to the darkness. You blink a few times until you can see the screen clearly.

555-9057: Hi Dulce :)

555-9057: Made it home. I had a great time :)

You bite your lip and smile at the messages on your lock screen, heat flashing through your head seeing him call you the nickname you gave yourself in his phone. And just like that, you're wide awake again. You unlock your phone and before you can type a reply, he sends another message.

555-9057: It's Marcus btw

Marcus groans to himself as he sends that last message. What the hell was that? Of course she knows it's you. Dumbass. He watches the screen and holds his breath when he sees the text bubbles pop up and he waits nervously for your reply.

Dulce💋: I'm glad you specified! Right after you dropped me off another guy took me out for dulce de leche pancakes and I also penned myself as Dulce in his phone 🤭

He chuckles out loud in the quiet atmosphere of his apartment, the sound bouncing against the walls and reverberating around the living room. Damn, she's good.

555-9057: Okay okay you got me, don't have to be so mean :P

So he's a classic emoji kind of guy, you smile as you make a note and file it in the little 'Marcus Pike' folder in your brain. You hit his phone number and tap the plus symbol to make a new contact in your phone. For some reason, you find yourself struggling as you try to figure out what to put his contact name as.

Agent Cutie

Nope, delete.

Agent Pike

What are you, his secretary? Delete delete.

Marcus

Should I put an emoji? Which one? Can't be a heart. You are seriously overthinking this.

Marcus Pike

Yeah, okay. I guess.

Me: Why did it take so long to get home? Do you live far?

Marcus Pike: It was about 30 min from your place :) not too bad

Thirty minutes?! Great, now I feel bad.

Dulce💋: Wth if I had known I wouldn't have let you drop me off! 🙄

Me: Don't worry about it! I was more than happy to ;)

Shit shit shit I didn't mean the wink! Why are they right next to each other?! Do I say something? Oh god, way to go, you ruined it.

Dulce💋: Then I'll give you gas money!

Marcus takes a breath of relief when he sees that you sidestepped his accidental wink emoji. After he catches his breath, his phone chimes again.

Dulce💋: And I won't take no for an answer 😉

Okay, there's no way she sent that by accident. Is she flirting with me? Do I flirt back? Why are my hands so sweaty?

Dulce💋: It's time for bed, those pancakes made me sleepy 😴 good night Marcus ☺️ See you Saturday!

Marcus smiles to himself and he anticipates seeing you on Saturday. He sends you another text and walks to his restroom to take a quick shower before climbing in bed.

Marcus Pike: Can't wait :) good night!

There's no way you can sleep now, but you said good night for his sake; he had a long day at work, plus he took you out and then had a long drive home. You know he must be tired. Your heart races as you scroll through your short text conversation, rereading the messages and giggling softly.

Did he mean to wink? It was probably an accident, considering he types out emojis instead of using the newer, more convenient ones. You just couldn't help but send one back, though; hiding behind the screen helped you to flirt openly with him. You roll onto your side to face the TV on your dresser, turning on a true crime documentary and letting it eventually lull you to sleep.

* * * *

Saturday comes around quickly, much to your delight, but as you wander around your room looking at the many outfits you laid out on your bed, your dresser, even on your couch, the nerves set in fast. You pray to whoever’s listening that you don’t seize up when Marcus picks you up. Which is in fifteen minutes. You already have your hair and makeup done, all you need is to pick an outfit. Simple in theory. Just pick one! You chew your lip nervously out of habit before stopping as soon as you realize you probably just messed up the red lipstick you had applied earlier.

You rush to the bathroom mirror and sure enough, there's a bare spot on your bottom lip and the lipstick has transferred to your front teeth. You groan in frustration and grab a makeup wipe to carefully remove the ruined lipstick and you brush your teeth again until it's all gone. You reapply the same shade of red, pleasantly surprised with yourself that it came out better than the first time. You take a deep breath and try to calm down, telling yourself that the first outfit you land your eyes on will be the one you wear. You count down from three in your head and enter your bedroom.

Okay, maybe not that one. You decide to close your eyes and try again. When you open your eyes, they land on a different outfit. Not that one either. You sigh harshly through your nose. Why is this so hard? You walk over to your nearly empty closet for the umpteenth time and your eyes catch on to a dress hidden in the corner that you had surprisingly missed before. This one.

It's a spaghetti strapped, black, bodycon dress with a lace overlay, flowers printed on the fabric throughout. It hugs your body in all the right places, reaching down to your knees, and you take a look in the floor length mirror next to your dresser as you put on your black, open-toed heels, smiling brightly as you feel confidence shooting through your veins.

Adrenaline gets mixed in as soon as you hear a knock on your door. Five on the dot. You grab your black cardigan and purse off the couch and open the door, your breath taken away by the handsome man in front of you. He's carrying a box of chocolates and it fumbles in his hands, nearly falling once his wide eyes see you. He looks at you from head to toe, making your heart race as you feel heat rushing over your body in line with his gaze and you shift your weight from side to side anxiously.

"Wow," he says breathlessly, unable to say anything afterwards.

"Wow yourself," you smile, looking over his own outfit: a navy blue suit and a black, button up shirt underneath, paired with black dress shoes. He slicked his hair back and cleaned up his beard slightly. He really is a gorgeous man.

"Uh," he stutters and glances to the box in his unknowingly tight grasp. "These are for you," he smiles shyly as he hands you the chocolates.

"Thank you," you say, giggling at the indents his fingers made on the sides of the box and you turn around to leave them on your entryway table.

You turn back to face him and see his eyes look up quickly and you wonder if you just caught him staring at your bottom. Your suspicion is confirmed when his cheeks flush pink. You laugh softly and he holds his arm out to you.

"Ready?" He asks and you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

You nod and link your arm in his, letting him help you down the stairs. You're starting to love the way his arm hugs yours as you walk and the warmth of his body mixing with yours. Your footsteps even sync up together in a slow cadence. He walks you to his car, letting you hold your weight with his arm as you slowly lower in the seat, your movement restricted by your tight dress and high heels.

You thank him once you're seated, buckling your seatbelt, and he walks to his side, sitting down and starting the car. You notice the radio is on this time, playing at a low volume, and you think to yourself that he probably only forgot to turn it on last time.

The aura is tense in the car, both of your nervous energies dancing in the air together to the music. You try to think of something to say, resorting to looking through your mental file of basic conversation starters. The weather? No, too basic. Say something about the music. No-

"You look really beautiful," Marcus finally breaks the silence. Your head snaps up to look in his direction and you share a smile, thanking him and returning the compliment.

He takes his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to look at you with a soft smile and turns his attention back to driving straight. He would keep his eyes on you if he could, but he'd rather not get into a car accident and ruin the night. So he just waits patiently until the next moment he can steal a glance. He takes a peek at you while you're stuck at a red light and he sees you picking at your cuticles nervously. He rubs his clammy palm on his pant leg, hoping to dry up any sweat present as much as possible. Before he can think twice about it, he reaches his hand over to grab yours.

Your heart jumps in your throat from the action and you look down in shock at his large hand covering yours completely. The blood rushes to your cheeks; his hand is rough from work, but soft and gentle enough that it's not uncomfortable. And warm. So warm. You stop picking your cuticles immediately, now memorizing the fine wrinkles in his hand and the ridges on his knuckles.

"Are you okay?" He asks, not moving his hand from your lap as he starts driving again.

"Yeah," your voice makes an embarrassing harmony, splitting in two different octaves from disuse. You swallow some saliva to lubricate your vocal cords and try speaking again.

"I'm just a little nervous," you admit.

His hand is still resting on top of yours; you're not sure if you should open your hand up to face your palms together and hold his hand as well. Alas, you take too long to make a decision and he pulls his hand away to grasp the steering wheel, bracing for a left turn.

"Please don't be nervous," he smiles with his pearly white teeth and it only makes you more nervous. How is he this handsome?

"It's just me," he adds as he pulls up to the restaurant, putting the car in park and removing the key from the ignition.

"'Just you'?" You quote him inquisitively. He nods and you shake your head with a small chuckle.

"What?" He chuckles with you.

"It's not 'just you' though, is it?" You reply softly.

You wonder if he's uncertain of himself and his ability to make women — i.e. you — weak in the knees. He seems oblivious to it and it makes him all the more charming to you. You see his eyebrows furrow and before he can ask what you mean, you turn to open the car door.

"Wait," he tells you, rushing out of his seat and over to you to help you out.

You wanted to manage it yourself, but you know you must look ridiculous with how bad you're struggling to get out of the car. He chuckles at the sight once he's on your side and he holds his arm out. You hold onto his forearm tightly and pull yourself upward as he lifts you as well until you're firmly planted on your feet.

"Maybe this dress wasn't a good idea after all," you giggle.

"I think it was," he flirts and you look away as you smile shyly.

You walk together up the steps to the front of the restaurant and Marcus apologizes for not warning you about the stairs. You tell him not to worry and though you can feel the ache in the arches and heels of your feet, you don't complain. He holds the door open for you and you walk in, your eyes instantly catching on the glimmering, crystal chandelier hanging in the waiting area. The lights are dimmed in an amber glow and there are pillars with intricate carvings and vines wrapped around the stone throughout the entirety of the establishment.

You gasp to yourself; this place must be expensive. How did you go from pancakes at grandma's house to a fancy, Italian restaurant like this? Your ears catch the sounds of a violin, but it's too close to just be playing from a speaker. Sure enough, you look further into the restaurant and see a man in a suit playing a violin. A live violinist?! Marcus joins your side again and notices the look of astonishment on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asks and you jerk your head to look at him, not even realizing he was standing next to you.

"Marcus, this looks like it's going to be really expensive."

You whisper in his ear so you don't offend any of the staff members and the height from your heels allows you to reach his head a little better now. The hot breath from your mouth tickles his ear and a bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. He laughs it off and leans his mouth to your ear in return.

"I like to make a fuss," he says, the deep tone of his voice giving you goosebumps. "Don't worry about it," he says in his normal tone as he stands up straight again.

The maître d' greets you two as you walk up to the host stand and Marcus gives the man his name for the reservation. The maître d' informs Marcus the table is not quite ready yet, adding that you're welcome to wait at the bar. Marcus looks at you to get your opinion; you say yes and Marcus lightly places his hand on the middle of your back, guiding you as you walk over to the bar top together. You take a seat in the soft barstool; it's easier to sit on since it's basically at standing height. Marcus removes his hand from your back to take a seat, his fingers gliding against the delicate lace of your dress across your spine and you shudder. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed.

The back of the bar is riddled with an assortment of different liquors, both American and Italian, and they're resting on lit up shelves. You look at the drink menu and your mouth opens in horror at the prices listed. This is definitely too much money. The bartender comes your way and Marcus orders a campari and grapefruit juice, immersing himself fully in the Italian culture. You say you'll stick with water and excuse it as you not feeling like drinking tonight. Marcus doesn't question it further.

The two of you comment on the decor of the restaurant, mainly the paintings hanging on the walls, and you mention that you love the lilies resting in the painted, ceramic vases and Marcus takes note of that fact. A waitress walks up to you and Marcus to let you know your table is ready and he finishes the last of his drink and stands, offering you his hand this time instead of his arm. You smile as you take it, your heart thumping in your chest as you let him guide you while you both follow the waitress.

The restaurant is bustling; heavy sounds of conversation and cutlery clinking on plates as you walk through what seems the entirety of the restaurant until the waitress leads you to a small, private patio. A round table is seated there, covered by a red tablecloth and adorned with a single, tall candlestick, burning a light glow. There's a cylindrical basket full of bread sticks and two water glasses, condensation running along the sides and onto the cloth. Marcus pulls your chair out for you, helping you to sit and scooting you in and sits down across from you. You hang your cardigan and purse on the back of your chair and take the menu the waitress is holding out to you.

You both thank her and she leaves, stating she'll be back soon to take your order. You marvel at the privacy Marcus planned for you two and you take a sip of your ice cold water, reveling in the relief washing through your dry throat. You flip open your menu; the options are minimal and are all expensive. You immediately scan for the cheapest dish: a $30 plate of chicken cacciatore. You feel guilty; you never want Marcus to break his bank trying to take you on a date. You glance at him and wonder why he would do all of this just for you. Did he really think you were that special?

You find yourself missing that little pancake diner and the time you shared there. There, you only felt the budding emotions consistent with a high school crush, but in this moment now, it's real life and mature adult feelings and you feel it much stronger in this environment. Marcus senses your mood change and leans forward to ask if you're okay, but he's interrupted by the waitress. You order the 'cheap' chicken cacciatore and he orders the tajarin al tartufo. Whatever that is.

"Why did you order the cheapest dish?" Marcus asks once the waitress leaves.

"Because I wanted to," you give him a sly smile to convince him otherwise, but he sees right through you, giving you a look of disbelief. You sigh.

"Because Marcus, it's too much money," you say sadly. "I mean, how much was it to get this private patio set up?"

"That's not important to me," he shakes his head. "This is our first proper date and I wanted to make it special."

Damn it. Why is he so thoughtful? And so damn cute?

"It's not that I don't appreciate it, I'm blown away by this, but I'm just... I'm not used to it," you pull your lips into your mouth slightly, mindful of your lipstick.

"Is that why you didn't order a drink?" He asks. You give him a lopsided frown and shrug your shoulders, your expression answering him instead of your words. He sighs and tilts his head to the side.

"I don't want you to worry about how much everything costs when you're with me; let me spoil you. You deserve it."

Let me spoil you. You deserve it. His words float around in your head, your eyes filling with fondness at the thought. You didn't think you deserved to be spoiled; your ex made sure of that much. It's exhilarating to say the least; this man you barely know ready to do anything for you at any time. But you like it, and you think in time, you could learn to love it. Learn to love him. You blink wildly and you inconspicuously shake your head at that last thought.

It was definitely way too soon to be thinking like that and it scared you that it entered your mind at all. It must be the ambiance of the restaurant. You think about how you should protect yourself in case this takes a wrong turn and you debate on placing that in the priority spot in your mind. Marcus can see you fighting your own thoughts and he tries to lighten the mood.

"I also might be trying to impress you for real now," he smiles.

You chuckle and shake your head. Marcus thinks to himself how beautiful you look under the moonlight that's shining through the glass awning above your heads, face lit up by the glowing candle. He can't stop his mouth from saying what he wants to say, not in this romantic atmosphere.

"I think you're a wonderful, beautiful woman and... I really like you," he adds, reaching across the table for your hand and you let him hold it, tangling your fingers with his.

You're positive he can feel your pulse through your fingers or hear your heart pounding, the blood whooshing in your ears muffling any other sounds from coming in. As much as you want to protect yourself, the look in his eyes only draws you in and you can't hide the truth from him or yourself, your confession spoken out loud for the first time for you both.

"I like you, too, Marcus." He smiles happily at you.

There must be something in the water here.

"Do you think it would be okay to keep this up?" He asks, meaning the dates, and you can't stop your head from nodding yes and you give him a sweet smile.

Marcus lets go of your hand, letting his rest in front of him and you take a deep breath, trying to shake your nerves from the exchange that just took place between you. You grab a bread stick and attempt to take a small bite; you and Marcus laugh together as your small bite accidentally turns into a big one, the stick breaking in the wrong place and leaving a large chunk of bread hanging from your mouth. Of course, leave it to something awkward happening to you to break the tension. But anything to see his face come together in joyous laughter.

* * * *

"Thank you again Marcus, that was actually very delicious," you say while Marcus begins the drive back to your apartment. "I see why it was so expensive." He hums in agreement; his smile hasn't left his face since the restaurant.

You listen closely to the new song that comes on the radio, trying to make out the tune until it gets louder and you realize it's "At Last" by Etta James.

"I love this song," you say under your breath. Marcus hears you and turns up the volume slightly, earning a bright smile from you. You look back out the window and sing the lyrics softly.

At last, my love has come along,

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song.

Marcus's heart races as he listens to the lyrics being sung by you and they hit a little too close to his heart. You don't realize at first the meaning behind them, only enjoying singing along.

At last, the skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover,

The night I looked at you.

You now realize the words are identical to how you feel. You wonder if you're falling too fast for Marcus. This was only your second date and there is still so much to learn about each other. You have a whole past to open up about, which will be a defining moment for your relationship. But as you look over at Marcus and you feel the tender organ in your chest beating fast, you think to yourself that it can't get much better than this. What's the harm in trying?

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

A/N: Okay just wanted to explain what Marcus ordered if you're interested! *DESCRIPTION OF FOOD/ALCOHOL COMING UP* I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong! According to Google:

Campari is an Italian bitters made of fruit & herbs & you usually mix it with juice or club soda (hardcore Italians drink it straight up) & it's a pre-meal drink

Tajarin al tartufo is an egg pasta, made with more egg whites than traditional egg pastas, & topped with white truffle. Idk it sounded fancy & expensive 😂

Also, here's their outfit inspos! Just a couple of things I described differently like his shirt being black & her dress having lace instead of mesh.

Ofc Marcus in this suit 🥵 I copied the description lol

TAG LIST:

@hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @giselatropicana

#marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction

60 notes · View notes

valeskakingdom · 4 years ago

Text

Request

Could I request a part 3? Jerome keeps the reader as his hostage for popularity and attention. Reader is really fond of the attention she gets as well and eventually sleeps with Jerome again? In the end she sees how Galavan kills him and is really sad?

Requested by @violentvaleska

For sure!! But again I gonna split this part in 2 because I noticed it would have been too long instead ahaha. I try to hurry with part 4!! Honestly, it's really cool to write oneshots!

And here it is:

Jerome x female reader (part 3)

Warning: mention of sex, depression and death

Word count: 3459

Gift credit: @jokersbabe27

"And here is our bedroom!" Jerome opened another wooden door and lead you into it.

You were irritated by his assertion 'our bed'. You weren't a couple or something. He just kidnapped and called you his property.

You examined the room. White pained walls, claret velvet curtains, a king size bed with while pillows and blankets, and some furnishungs. It didn't look that bad, much better than your little apartment.

"It's...pretty." You gave him a short smile hoping he would believe your faked comfortableness.

Actually you didn't feel well about that. You were around lunatics who either killed or are people...and you, you were the only sane one. You were clearly a victim for them. Sooner or later they would cause you problems.

You started to think about all the cruel things they could do to you in case, Jerome was not there: they could scare you away, haunt you for fun, or...leaving their sexual needs out on you. It was horrible, you literally lived in hell now.

The worse part was on it: you would be a loner if Jerome was gone. A nobody. Nobody would help you. Hell, they'd probably just mock at you that Jerome's property was just an anxious fool and that they couldn't understand what Jerome liked about you so much - you didn't even understand it. You were just a one off.

"But uhm...Jerome?" You turned to him.

"Yes, doll?" Jerome gave you a wide smile glaring at you with his big blue eyes.

"I need clothes... And all my clothes are in my apartment and-..." You knew you couldn't go back.

Not because of him and all your feelings for him- oh no, you wished you could go to your friend to forget the moment where Jerome frightened you to death. His permanent mood changes exhausted you a lot. On your way to his hostage, he made everyone clear that you were his property. No one was allowed to touch you nor to talk to you...They weren't even allowed to look at you. It was crazy. You should just belong to him, he was literally crazy about you.

So yeah, you couldn't go. If you went away, he'd chase you...and if he caught you, you'd probably end up dead.

"You don't need your old clothes, doll." He walked to one of the shelves and opened it: Lacy underwear, seemingly expensive but nice dresses, and some shirts with pants filled it.

"Uhm-..." Before you could say anything, you were interrupted by an older man in a black tuxedo and yelled dark brown hair.

You knew this man: Theo Galavan, the one coming into office of Gotham's major.

But what does he have to do with all the lunatics? And why were they living in his tower? It confused you a lot. In the TV, he seemed to be a good guy. Rich, clever, apparently cared Zabout all citizen's wealth. He wanted to safe the city, or even makes it a better place for everyone.

Your feeling told you though, he was the total opposite: a villain who wants to reign over Gotham.

Why else would he keep lunatics in his tower?! You thought.

"Jerome," Theo Galavan slowly stepped forward with a grin in his face, his hands were folded into each other "I see, you show our new guest her new hostage." He turned to you "I'm Theo Galavan, call me Theo."

"(Y/n)." You gave him a nervous smile.

"I'm sorry, you've been arrived during such ordinary circumstances." He placed his hand on his chest "It wasn't planned to scare you away. But I think we both know Jerome's little tick for an overdramatic show, don't we?"

"O-ohhh, yeah, uhm... it's... it's fine?...yeah," You stammered a little while trying "It was uhm... adventurous." You chuckled nervously completely ignoring his little question.

"Indeed," Theo chuckled darkly rubbing his palms, then he walked a few steps to Jerome and whispered something in his ear. You couldn't understand what he was saying though. You just felt uncomfortable about two people talking behind your back but right in front of you. You just could see Jerome nodding with a grin as both looked at each other. Something was wrong, that you can tell.

"Anyways," Theo turned around with a smile in his face "I leave you two alone now. Some privacy should be appropriated. It was a pleasure to meet you (Y/n) and welcome home." He shut the door and left our room before you could say anything.

"That guy's amazing, did I tell you? If you know him, you'll understand me. He's a big authority and-..."

"What did he tell you?" You interrupted him giving him a stern look "It was about me, wasn't it?" You didn't know where you've got that brave from. Maybe because you were a little scared about what exactly Theo whispered into Jerome's ear?

"I really hate it when some interrupts me..." Jerome grumbled giving you a death stare, his bearing was cramped and he clenched his fists; it looked like he was about to kill you every minute "It's very impolite to interrupt someone, don't you think?"

You couldn't say anything so you just nodded quickly in panicking and fear. More and more you just wanted to go home. You wished you never took the bus to your friend, instead you just could've ask them to hook you up then you wouldn't have been here.

You really didn't want to live like that: being frightened from your oh so called partner because he could kill you every time you were doing a mistake in his eyes.

"Good," but then his death stare and cramped bearing faded instantly and as always he gave you a warm smile "Now to answer your question..." Jerome grabbed your waist pulling you close to him, his nails were dug in your skin that it almost hurt a little "He and I made a little deal before I...you know...kidnapped you."

"And what for a deal?" You frowned confused.

"You should stay here telling nobody about him keeping me and the others here and so on...because if not he kills you." He chuckled louldy "Isn't that fun? He really thinks he can kill you."

You widened your eyes in shock and fear. You hoped you haven't heard it right. Theo will kill you if you lose any word about this here? You won't be able to go back to your home? To message your friends? Nothing?

More and more you felt like a prisoner...and more and more you felt like an object than a human. You were pressured, they decided everything for you... practically your only task was to entertain Jerome...however he wanted it.

"Don't worry, doll, he won't even dare to lay a finger on you." Jerome grabbed your cheeks softly and leaned his forehead against yours, his lips hovered over yours "Because I am the boss. Really no one wants me to be mad because you know... they'll end up dead."

He pressed his lips on yours roughly, his grip on your cheeks tightened. His tongue slipped into your mouth while he nibbled on your lower lip. You let out a little moan in arousal. As if it was a reflex you automatically wrapped your arms around his neck.

Jerome's hands wandered down; along your breasts what made you shiver and gasp, his hands stopped at your waist.

"I almost forgot the feeling when I touch your soft lips doll." Jerome interrupted the kiss and let out a sigh in arousal throwing his head back.

You blushed hard, a slight giggle escaped your lips.

With this kiss, Jerome calmed you down a lot. It let you remind of that one special night again: the butterflies in your stomach, the happiness... You could say, for a short moment you almost forgot about his craziness and him being a murderer.

On the other hand, you still felt strange about the whole thing. A criminal was obsessed with you, his obsession was that big that no one was allowed to do anything with you...and also that you couldn't go back to your friends... You didn't like it at all. Your friends were more important to you than Jerome. You knew them for years and him... You've just met once.

Jerome kissed you again deeply, then he made his way down your jawline to your neck. You let out a little moan as he kissed started to suck on your sweet spot. His hands travelled under your shirt up to your bra clip to open it. You unbottoned his shirt and ripped it off his body while he tugged your bra from your body. You felt him biting your neck, first slightly then harder. It hurt a little and you knew that you'd be marked sooner or later - but you didn't mind. You knew what was coming right now. It was exactly like the first time you two had sex.

Jerome ripped your shirt off from your body and then stopped every single actions. He was eyes you, he stared at every little part of your body. He was like a wild animal staring at its prey and just waited for the perfect moment to catch it.

It made you shiver, but you loved it anyhow. It was very new but you could get used to it.

"Oh, how I missed that view," Jerome bit his lip with lust still viewing your whole body "Time to make up that whole year."

Jerome grabbed you by your waist and literally threw you into the king size bed right behind you. He was so eager to rip your clothes from your body to feel all this pleasure he has felt one year ago. He wanted to feel your soft skin on his, to hear you moans every time he thrusted into you, he wanted to be into you. He couldn't wait for it, so violently he unbottoned your jeans literally ripped them off your body.

You blushed hard. You were excited, surprised, but still you felt uncomfortable. You wondered whst was happening now. Does he expect any dirty kinks from you? Calling him daddy? Any pet names? Or other ordinary kinks?

You hoped for the best, you hoped nothing would have changed and you could just go on.

Jerome grabbed your face again and kissed you deeply nibbling on your lower lip. While that he pulled down your panties and inserted a finger into your cunt. You let out a sharp moan and your hips bucked quickly through the strong intensity of him hitting your sweet spot. You couldn't help but digging you nails in the sheets of his bed and arching your back as he speeded up.

He was rougher with you than before, almost violently. It hurt and was fast but it felt so good at the same time. You started liking it even more than the soft stuff one year ago. Your pleasure was stronger and him being rough kind of turned you on.

Jerome inserted another finger into your wet entrance what let you moan a little louder and your hips bucked.

Jerome curled up his fingers inside you harder and faster what made you moan louder. You grabbed the sheets of the bed tight to handle this big amount of pleasure.

Your back arched as he hit your g spot for another time. There again, you had this incredible feeling, all the upcoming pleasure in your body caused you a cribbing feeling in your abdomen that spread through your limbs up to your shoulders - this time it was much more intense though. Your core was aching and you became needy for his cock. Indeed, you were well pleasured but you want more. You wanted him to bury his member inside of you, filling up every inch of your cunt, making you scream and cum over and over again.

All your sorrows and worries disappeared all of a sudden. You didn't do anything for it; You just had eyes for Jerome and how he'd make you done undome several times. You didn't care about whether the others would hear you or not, you didn't care whether you'd rip the sheets apart or vice versa. You didn't care about anything.

You bit your lip in pleasure after you let out a loud moan as you noticed you were close.

Jerome pressed his thumb on your clit while continuing to pleasure you making you gasp. Your moans became louder and it became harder to hold them back. They way he did it just made you feel so good.

"Close already, huh?" Jerome pressed his thumb harder on your clit rubbing it in circling motions "Come for me, doll." His eyes kept staring on you. He loved hearing you moan his name through all the pleasure he was giving you. It aroused him much more than usual. He missed you and all this - he really did. The things that happened in his cell were nothing compared to you.

"Ahh fuck!" Right after he finished his sentence you released yourself with a lot cry.

The sweat was dripping down your forehead, you breathed heavy and uneven, and your legs were shaking and felt weak.

It was amazing for you. You admitted to yourself how much you missed this and you now remembered how good he made you feel.

With his strength, Jerome turned you around on your stomach waisting no time.

You blushed hard being a little worried about what's coming next.

"On all four, kitten." You blushed harder and did what he said. You felt a little strange with that nickname, it was very new to you, and honestly you would have never expected that from Jerome. His first impression to was him being a soft guy who rather prefers the normal way of how sex goes like...and generally, he didn't seem to be a dominant and rough guy.

You heard him walking a few steps backwards taking something. You were a little afraid what was coming now. You were afraid that he was taking a knife or other kind of weapons to do with you some dirty acts.

"My, my, my...You have such a beautiful body, you know that kitten?" Suddenly you felt something cold and sharp wandering down your spine. It made you shiver and gasp. You knew it was a knife and you just waited until Jerome started to hurt you "How many boys might have touched you when I was absent?"

"N-no one...w-where-...." You stammered in fear hoping nothing bad will happen. You didn't know where he's got that from suddenly. Was he jealous? Was he 'scared' that you could have a boyfriend and that he needs to make a plan to kill him?

"You really want me to believe that?" Jerome unbottoned his jeans and grabbed your waist violently inserting his dick into your wet entrance "It sounds a little surreal, don't you think? Who would not betray a blood-thirsty and cold-hearted murderer who's busted in Arkham?"

He didn't move though. Instead he pulled pulled on your hair tight that your head fell back what are you moan again. But instantly, your breathe hitched as you felt a cold and sharp knife pressed on your throat. Now you were scared, almost panicking. You hoped he didn't slit your throat.

"You know, I'm not a fan telling me a lie." He pressed the knife harder against your throat. You cut feel how the sharp blade cut your thin skin. Your body shivered in fear, your pulse was running and your breath was uneven. It felt like every minute could be your last one, it was just a matter of time until he killed you.

"I-I would n-never lie to you." You stammered quickly "H-honestly, I j-just though about y-you..." It was the truth. You really did. The whole year where Jerome was gone you didn't even think of dating a boy or of a simple one off. You were too much stuck in your thoughts about him, how he was doing, what he has become...

"Is that so?" Jerome didn't really sound convinced what let you panicking more.

"Y-yes," You gulped because you knew what you had to say now: you had to say you liked him "You J-Jerome...the l-last year was...i-it was hard for me b-because-..."

"Because?" You felt how the blade was pressed deeper in your skin and slightly moved to make a longer cut in your throat.

"Well," You gasped as Jerome stopped moving the blade "I-I....like y-you..."

This was not completely true but not completely wrong, as well. You did like him, but the old him more. You weren't scared of the old Jerome, you liked him being soft and kind...not frightening with this permanent changing behavior.

He said nothing at first, you could just feel his grin against your ear.

He put the blade aside what let you sigh in relief. You calmed down a little seeing the blade on the floor.

"I know, doll." His head moved from your ear, his hands were both placed on your waist.

And again, he started to thrusted violently into your wet entrance. You swore with a loud moan and arched your back.

Immediately, Jerome speeded up permanently pushing you against him to drill his member deeper into your cunt. His nails were dug into your waist what made you biting your lip.

Your whole body felt weak with every thrust he did into you. You body shivered slightly through this overwhelming pleasure. Every thrust hurt more, each of your moans became louder. Your nails were dug into the sheets of the bed deeply but still the pleasure he was giving you was too much. You couldn't handle it.

You moaned louder, almost uncontrollably, then your body gave in and you slightly collapsed in the bed.

Jerome though didn't waist no time - he kept drilling his member into you, grabbed your hair and pulled you upwards by your hair again.

"Oh my God, Jerome!" You cried out in pleasure while your legs shivered.

"So eager for my cock, you little slut, aren't we?" Jerome grunted and speeded up a third time.

You moaned louder, almost screamed. You felt how your walls clenched against his cock - you were close. You didn't know whether you could hold it back. It all was too much for you. You felt a knot in your stomach that was built up. It hardened with every thrust Jerome did.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-...!" You almost screamed digging your nails deeper in the sheets of the bed as you came. You couldn't even finish your sentence. With a few more thrusts, Jerome came as well.

You both collapsed on the bed. He still laid on you not even pulling out his member.

Silence filled the room for a while, just your gasps for air broke it here and there.

You felt Jerome's warm breathe on your skin every time he breathed out.

You closed your eyes for a moment enjoying this half broken silence.

Many thoughts crashed in your head together:

You told Jerome that you liked him and he surely will take advantage of it. Maybe he wants to force you to violent things like shooting at people or hurting them otherwise? And every time, you refuse he'd tell you stupid stuff like but I thought you like me, doll. You kinda regret what you said because you knew it will have consequences.

Another point would be his now increasing obsession and possessiveness towards you. Now he had the final proof that you wanted to be his and no one could ruin him that. He could call you his property because you liked him which meant for him: you wanted to be with him, you wanted to be his queen of Gotham, you wanted to spread chaos with him. Everyone else was his rival.

But then you thought that on the other hand, it was okay to be his. Everyone knew crazy Jerome could probably be so no one wanted him to be mad, as he said. And so nothing would happen to you.

"Even better than the first time" Jerome rolled off of you staring at the ceiling for a while while taking deep breathes.

"I agree," You slightly chuckled.

"And doll, " Jerome grabbed your cheeks pressing his face against yours that his lips hovered over yours "Never forget who you belong to. We don't want things turning out bad, do we?"

"N-no." You shook your head fast.

"Good...because you're mine."

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years ago

Text

I'm Coming Home, Baby

Summary: Y/N and John were childhood sweethearts (no Martha) and she has known the peaky blinders her whole life and they love her too but then John has to marry Esme and even though Tommy does feel bad he does it anyway. Y/n works in the betting house so they see eachother every day she acts like it doesn’t bother her but is obviously a bit distant with John who is still inlove with her but she is respectful of the marriage so when Michael comes in he has a crush on Y/N and kinda flirts with her and John gets jealous cause he will always love her. Then she is killed by the Italians and just people’s reactions.

Warnings: Heavy angst, character death.

Requested by : Anon

He was the first boy you ever befriended, shared your first kiss with. It happened on an old broken swing in the backyard of your house when you were only twelve.

You met John when he was thirteen. The memory was so fresh in your mind, even today, it made you feel like it was yesterday when you were hiding behind your mother, clutching the fabric of her skirt, your tiny little head poking out just to watch around, with your big (Y/E/C) eyes, when two boys rode into the plaza on a black horse. The older boy was probably 18, but your eye caught the eye of the younger one. You were so young; the concept of love was something you had not yet experienced. But now, if you thought about it, you loved that thirteen year old boy. Your love for him only evolved from wanting to have all his attention at all times, stealing his candies from his pockets, and playing skittles with him all day, to holding hands and walking by the river, stealing kisses when no one was looking.

There was a time when you two became so inseparable, you would spend hours together and you would spend your entire days with the Shelby family.

Then one day, you watched him leave, as the war was upon you all. There were tears, and you could hear hearts crack, the slow, horrid torture of sweethearts like you and John being separated, wives left alone as their husbands left them to go to war, mother's watched their sons leave. Polly had to hold you; tight against her chest for hours as you wept, after he had left, and you had no idea whether he would come back or not.

War changed you both. He witnessed so many atrocities , so much death and so much horror; the man that came back, his eyes had a holocaust, a deep rooted horror lurking within his irises. He would scream and thrash in his sleep, and no amount of pacifying could control him, except for you. But you had changed too by that time. You had lived without him for so long, you had lived with a constant worry and fear for so long, you had grown sombre and the fire that you possessed and the light in your eyes, that little twinkle, it was lost. You rarely spoke, when all you ever did once was talk. It was like you were now a walking, breathing corpse. Your heart still pumped blood, but that was all. You were a ruin, just like your lover. Things weren't the same anymore, thus, after war. No matter how hard you tried, John and you could not go back to what you used to be.

Although you the two of you weren't together, almost everyone knew that you belonged with each other. It was like you could understand what John wanted, even without him having to say it. Whenever John had a nightmare, you were the one holding him close, rocking him against your chest, while he clung on to you, hopeless and weak. You saw him at his worse, and so did he, many times, when the two of you fought, and you ended up breaking down.

All this love, all this pain, but you found comfort in your empty bed to think that John still loved you, it was the only blanket that gave warmth to your heart. However, one day, someone pulled that blanket off you, and the betrayal you felt shattered your soul.

You found out that Tommy had fixed John's wedding with one of the Lee's, Esme.

You didn't know what you hated more, or who you hated more. Was it John, who said yes and couldn't stick his arse up to his brother and say no ? Who could still look you in the eye claiming to still be in love with you even after being the one to scratch your heart out? Or was it Tommy? The man you looked up to as your elder brother? Who you trusted more than yourself, that he will never let you and John part your ways? Or was it Esme? The beautiful damsel who made you envy her? She was beautiful, she was young, and she was untouched by war, or that is what you thought. Maybe she would keep John happy, maybe she would be good for him, you kept repeating those words at the back of your mind again and again.

It was as though you couldn't breathe after that. You would sit up in bed, drenched in your own sweat, screaming at the top of your lungs, crying. At first, John did come, when your mother would telephone him and tell him what had happened, concerned and his eyes clouded in tears, watching you, wishing he could hold you, as your mother leant over the side of your bed and tried to calm you down but as the days to his wedding came closer, he stopped coming altogether.

You couldn't watch him take his vows, so you locked yourself in your room, having decided you were never going to step into the Shelby house again. The truth was, although they were your family, they were also your employers; you worked for Tommy Shelby, as one of his secretaries. If you left this job, you didn't know when you will find another job again.

Thus, a few days before John and Esme were to be married, you asked Tommy to give you a time off, for you needed it, to recuperate. And he did, without thinking twice. Tommy did what he had to do, it was a call of the moment, but it wasn't like he didn't know how much you or John were hurting. If giving you a chance to go on a much needed Vacation was something he could do to ease your pain, he would definitely do it.

You cried all night, a night before the love of your life married another woman. You sat in bed, hugging your feet closer to your body, thick salty tears spilling along your cheeks, your lip trembling and quivering. At times you would have to bring your palm up to press it against your mouth, for you had an urge to scream and to yell, but you didn't want to wake your neighbours. Little did you know, that outside your window, John had fixed himself, only his cigarette stick visible under the pale moonlight, for he wanted to make sure you were alright, and couldn't sleep without tossing and turning multiple times. Little did you know that he often wrote to you, but your mother burnt those letters before they could reach you; so they couldn't cause any more damage to you as this mess already had.

The next day, you left Birmingham City, having decided to get out of town, the first train to London, away from the chaos and the madness this city had brought upon you. Maybe a change will do you good. And you decided you will not come back, for there was nothing left there for you, except your mother but that was a different thing altogether.

You blocked it all out, all the hurt, all the anguish that you were feeling, swallowing it inside of you like a bitter pill, weeks after John and Esme Shelby were one, but one thing you couldn't do, was return back to work, for you didn't have it in you to face your biggest weakness. It had taken you weeks to stop feeling depressed all the time and you had finally learnt what it felt like when you had to just live on, putting on a brave face. You now knew what it meant when people said, things happen, and they don't really and most often don't happen the way we want them to, but life goes on, whether we like it or not.

Finally, fifteen long weeks after having gone without seeing John Shelby, one morning, you woke up in a puddle of your own sweat, thick hot beads of sweat trickling down your temples. Half lidded eyes, you reached for a glass of water to soothe your parched throat, but the anxiety and the fear bubbling up inside your heart didn't ease. You had to see him, to make sure he was okay. Nothing mattered to you in that second, when your heart was palpitating inside your chest and you were sat there, clutching your sheets and gasping for air.

You ran up into the living room, and fell next to the telephone ringing your mother, and cried on the phone, "I want to come back home mum, I thought I will feel better, but I don't, I just feel I will never feel better again."

You lied to yourself, that you were going back to Birmingham city, the first train you could find, so you could see your mother again, but your heart knew that it was much more complex than what it all looked like. Even after coming back, and spending all evening with your mum, you couldn't fill up the hollowness that you had been feeling in your heart. You knew there was only one way.

After much contemplation, walking down to the Garrison didn't seem like a bad idea to you; the Shelby's mostly spent their evenings at the Garrison, and you hoped you'll catch a glimpse of him from one of the windows, and you'll leave. It was a pale, moonless night, the winds were shallow, but you could still notice the winds, hitting your face, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The windows to the Garrison were mildly foggy as though they hadn't been scrubbed on in ages, but you could still see. You could see the Shelby's all standing inside, walking around, speaking to each other. He was standing there, in a pool of his family, Finn on one side and Arthur on another, his young boyish face gleaming underneath the golden ivory lighting of the pub. Also, a woman stood next to him, that you clearly recognised, Mrs. John Shelby.

Your heart still managed to skip a beat, when you saw a soft smile break out on his lips at probably a joke being cracked by Finn. Atleast he looked happy. When you were not.

"Excuse me? Is something wrong?"

A voice called out to you, causing your eyelids to expand, and your hand to fly upwards, your fingers managing to push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. Slowly, you turned around to look at the source of the voice. He didn't look much older than you, but from what you could see, you could notice how well dressed he was , almost like the Shelby's themselves.

"I, uh, it's nothing. I was just lost."

The young man skewered his head to one side, as if scrutinizing you from the corner of his eye, however, before he could speak again, a voice cut him off, a voice you knew all together, "Michael, where's Polly? I thought it was the whole family tonight. She-"

Tommy stopped talking, the minute he laid his eyes on you. Even in the darkness of the night, he knew it was you. It had been ages they had all seen you. It was as though you had just vanished, and your mother never told them your whereabouts, no matter how much they tried to find out.

"You-"

"Hello, Thomas."

You whispered, toying with your fingers.

"How? We all fucking tried looking for you everywhere."

"I left town." You tried to sound cold, but who were you kidding, no matter how much you tried, this family was yours, although you didn't share their blood. Tommy was like a brother you had never had.

"Does John-"

Tommy didn't complete his sentence, he just turned to follow your gaze as the two of you started looking at him, watching you from the inside, his jaw almost dropped as if he had seen a ghost; his eyes on you.

Michael finally understood who you were. You were the one, the one that had caused the sheen in John's eyes to die down, the woman who had his heart.

𖠁𐂃𖠁

You were okay.

It had been difficult, and at first, you didn't want to do it. Being back into the Shelby's life was difficult, and Tommy's offer of you retaking your position as his secretary was something that made you feel worried, that being around John will break your control over the situation.

But you wouldn't lie, there was someone who made you pull through, and stuck with you when you thought you wouldn't be able to do it.

Michael Gray.

You didn't remember the countless times you had used him as your pillow, crying on his shoulders while he let you. He didn't judge you, and he didn't lie to you, telling you that things will be fine. That is all you wanted.

You sat in the Shelby office, on a Saturday, and you weren't expecting the Shelby's to come in today, except Michael, who was already here standing by the telephone, speaking to someone.

You tapped your lit cigarette lightly, letting the white snowy ashes fall into the ashtray, as you brought it back up to your plump lips. Your eyes scanned through the files, your pen in your other free hand as you scribbled some numbers relentlessly into the notepad, until Michael slammed the receiver down.

"What's wrong, Michael?" You gave him a look.

"Nothing , Tommy's fucking shipment is stuck. Some workers strike."

"Well, if the man himself is least bothered, why on earth are you boiling your blood out for him? Let it go, Thomas is going to find a way to sort it out, yeah? Anyway, I need your help, this is some really messed up calculation."

Michael shook his head, pretending to be disappointed in you, but secretly, he loved it. He loved it when you called him over to help you out with the calculations, for this meant that he could tower over your desk, leaning down on you, secretly inhaling the soft, dewy fragrance from your silky locks, admiring you. So, he left whatever it was that he was doing and fixed himself next to your desk, almost leaning over you from your back, so he could look at the paperwork.

Just then, the doors flung open, and a sudden chatter filled the room, when Arthur, Tommy and John entered, bickering among themselves on a topic, without having paid heed to you.

"Right, so did you see his fucking face? He could have bloody shit his pants at that," Arthur chuckled.

Your face lost its pallor, and you averted your gaze from John, when he suddenly stopped listening to his brother, and his eyes fell on Michael, and you. He could not hide the sudden change in his expression, the jealousy and the hurt in his eyes. His jaw squared, and his eyes narrowed in reflex and he couldn't bite back on his words, "Michael, I thought we asked you to sort out the bloody shipment, and not fucking flirt around with the employees around here."

My eyes widened at his words, and reflexively, I stood up, fixing myself next to Michael in his support.

"Well, what can I fucking do if the workers are on a bloody strike?" Michael protested, stepping in front of your desk, facing the three men.

"Well, for one, you can do what you're fucking here to do, and not be on other people's desks," John snapped, ignoring the way your eyes widened at him in disapproval, and Michael grit his teeth, clenching his fists as he walked off, towards the door.

"Michael, wait." You called out, but he didn't stop, and the door slammed shut when he walked out of the betting shop.

"John, thats enough, what are you fucking doing, eh?" Tommy asked, stepping in front of John, blocking your view of him.

"Just getting some bloody work done around here for once," John grumbled back, trying to walk past Arthur and Tommy so he could barge towards you. However, before he could make his way to you, you stepped up, grabbing your coat, and your purse.

"Michael didn't deserve that," you spat at him once, before turning away, as you walked out.

You didn't wait to turn back and see that John had pulled out of Arthur's grip, and he was now making his way towards you. You stepped out of the Shelby office, your heels clicking against the paved roads, as you started walking away, when you felt a hand grip your arm and pull you back, pressing you against the brick wall.

"John, let me go." You protested, trying to push his chest so he could move away.

"What the fuck was that?" He barked, still not letting you go, his hands on either side of you, having trapped you there, while you kept trying to push him, so you could get out of being so close to him again, "Michael fancies you. He fucking fancies you and still you like to keep him around yourself?"

You almost scoffed at his hypocrisy.

"So what if he fancies me? So what John?" You screamed, taking a deep breath, wiping the tears that had managed to leak from your eyes, leaving stains down your cheeks. He parted his lips, trying to find the right words, but before he could, you started yelling again, "it was okay for you to bloody get married when Tommy asked you to, but I cannot let another man fancy me. Why John? You're a fucking married man now, and I can't move on and be with someone who fancies me."

He slowly removed his hands from either of your sides, and stepped away so he could give you the space, and you instantly stepped away, shaking your head at him and then running your hands through your hair, frustrated with this all.

You kicked the sidewalk with your heel, not even paying attention to how your heel broke from the hit.

"You know I didn't want this to happen Y/N, not any more than you didn't. But I could not say a bloody no to Tommy."

"Don't you dare put this on anyone but you. You fucking chose to say yes, and you weren't forced. I never forgave Tommy, but I will never forgive you too John, now if you allow I have to go look for Michael."

You bent, sliding your feet out from the heels and took your heels in your hand. You started turning, when then it all happened in slow motion, before John could do anything to stop you.

If John knew that the bullet from the Italians gun, that was meant for him, will hit you on the side of your neck, he would have shielded you with his own life.

It was a clean hit, the bullet striking his heart, poetically, and your neck.

Your eyes widened, your hand flying to your neck, as hot blood spurted out and you started coughing, your body feeling loose, like that of jelly.

He watched you gasp, clutching the side of your neck, his eyes widened in shock, his mind blank, and his heart beating faster than ever. Tommy and Arthur rushed out now too, and before John could react, Arthur was kneeling down next to you, checking your pulse, his palm pressed to your neck, as you slowly bled to death.

"Tommy, we need to get her to fucking doctor, she is fucking bleeding to death!!"

John just kept looking.

If only that bullet had taken him.

John Shelby lost his heart in a whiff of a second, watching it shatter into two, the day he watched the woman he loved take her last breath. He broke down next to your now cold palm that lay by the sidewalk, your eyes wide open, keeping you close to his heart.

You were dead, even before Arthur could lift you up and carry you into Tommy's car, you were already gone and your body went cold, your hand falling lifelessly down your side.

Now just a month later, history repeated itself, but only this time, John didn't feel like he had anything to lose, and instead, he only had something to gain. He was probably going to bleed to death, but there was one thing that comforted him, as he took his last, broken breaths, that maybe you were waiting for him on the other side, and he just had to throw out his hand, and you'll be there to catch him.

And this is what he thought, in those final moments, as he lay, covered in a pool of his own blood, shot down by the Italians himself, mere months after your death. His breathing slow, his chest heaving up and down, blood erupting from his wounds, yet he was thinking of your face, the way your eyes were trained to him as you died.

John was awake; atleast for mere seconds, just as he inched closer to death, when Esme hunched over him, trying to revive him and he opened his mouth, gasping for air, like a fish thrown out of water, trying to breath; but he did manage to say a few words, only, they were so muffled, Esme could never make out what he said.

No one could hear what John Shelby spoke to her, and she kept clinging on to his last words, imagining that he was telling her that he loved her, but what he said was gone the minute he was gone.

But if anyone would have heard it, he would have known, what he meant, when he took his last breaths, and the only words that came out of his lips were, "I'm coming home, baby."

He was finally going home. And they were going to be together.

Permanent John Shelby Taglist :

@really-dont-forget-it

@thepeakygurl

@baumarvel

@nyotamalfoy

@peakyfooky

Want to be added to my Taglist? Please fill up the form on this link. ❤️

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #john shelby angst

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Stay With Me (Pt. 03 of 09)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 2.1 K

Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.

Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.

<- Previous part (02)

Next part (04) ->

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22, who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!

Memories From The Past

“I was with the same group of people since the world fell apart. Me and six other people.” Slowly you start, keeping your voice down so Daryl will be the only one to hear it. “We were fine and... One day we had to leave the house because there were too many dead around... So we... We left and this group found us. They were good, they offered help.” How stupid you were to believe it. To go with them and trust their kindness. Kindness, now, is rare. It's used as a trick, a trap. And you fell for it. “They had a couple of houses, lived well together and... It was normal, for a week it was normal. I-I was starting to feel safe when...” Your body shakes, like a leaf, and Daryl moves closer, pulling the blanket over your shoulders. “The men started making... Propositions. And I would never do that, and-and in the beginning they were okay. They respected my decision, but soon, it... They started getting aggressive. I told my group and we decided to run away during the night but they found out.” You're crying, sobbing, a hand on your heart. “They got us. And-and all the others were useless. Four men and two older women, so they killed them. They had t-these dead tied up and they made me watch as my friends were eaten.” It's hard to continue, to push the words out, to revisit that day. Those days, endless. The hours that never seemed to end.

“ ‘S alright. That's enough.” Daryl says, but you push the blanket away, freeing your arms from underneath and holding his hand. You just need to make sure he's real. That he's here, the man who saved you, who won't let anyone hurt you again.

“They locked me up after. They... They told me they didn't want to... Rape me... They wanted me to enjoy what they did. T-the humiliating, degrading sex, the extreme bondage, the cuts, the wounds, the pain. All of it.” You decide to just say it, spill it out, as fast as you can just to get it over with. “But I wouldn't. I wouldn't and I was thinking they'd just kill me. I was ready but they didn't. They came every single day, I stopped counting after a month, to ask me to surrender but I never did. They beat me, kicked me, cut me, spit on me. They used to drag one of the dead to the basement and leave it there, groaning at me for days.”

“That's enough. Ya don't have to–”

“Then a herd came. I heard it. I heard it killing them so I just pushed myself up and crawled through a window.” You look down at your arms, the grazes, and scratches from the glass. “I fought with a man for the car, and he gave me this–” You tilt your head to the wound on your left thigh. “–right before one of the dead got him. So I started driving, and I kept driving until the gas was over. I stood there as the dead came, surrounded me and I just wanted to die.” You're head is spinning, and you feel like you're just about to faint. “I wanted to die until you found me.”

The look on his eyes kills you. Why is he in such pain? Why is he looking at you like... Like you're breakable. Like you're broken already. Maybe it's because you are. And you will never speak of it again. You will never let these words come out of your mouth. The memories are more than enough to torture you day after day.

“Nobody will ever hurt ya again,” Daryl says, his voice filled with anger, a kind of anger you never witnessed before. “I promise ya. Never.” He pulls you into a hug, carefully, but you just move into his chest, biting back a wince when pain spreads through your body. You're sobbing, uncontrollably, and you're sure the tears are soaking Daryl's shirt. It hurts to cry. “Shh. ‘S alright, babygirl. Calm down, ‘M right here with ya. ‘M right here.”

“Will-will they kick me out?” You stutter, still hiding your head on his chest.

“No. Yer not going anywhere, hear me?” Daryl pulls away, just enough to look into your eyes. “Hear me?”

“Can you stay with me? Please.” Holding on to his shirt, you beg, unable to bear the thought of being left alone.

“Of course.”

Relieved, you pull him, moving to the side a little despite the pain. Daryl hesitates a bit before moving, resting his back against the headrest as you move to lay your head on his chest, pulling your legs up, basically curling into him.

You're not sure how long he stays there, in silence, a hand caressing your hair. But when you start getting hungry, you know he'll have to leave eventually.

“(Y/N),” Carol calls from the door frame. “Can I bring your lunch?”

Nodding weakly, you watch as her smiles and leaves.

“I need to talk to Rick,” Daryl says, carefully moving to stand up, making sure you'll be comfortable against the headrest. “Him and Deanna. So they'll stop bugging ya about... What happened before.”

“Will you be back?” You ask as he stands up, holding his hand.

“I promise I will. I won't leave ya alone.”

Nodding, you force yourself to let go of his hand. Carol brings you lunch and you struggle to eat without her help. It always takes a while, and Carol talks through it, even though you don't answer. You should though, she's been so kind to you, patient, doing everything she can... It's unfair to give the silent treatment.

“Thank you.” You say when you're done eating, handing her the empty plate. The words still sound low and weak, and you don't feel as comfortable as you feel with Daryl. “For... For everything.”

Her lips break into a smile, bright and sweet. “You don't have to thank me. I'm happy to help.” Carol moves to hold your hand, but you're quick to move it away. “I'm sorry.”

“No, I just...” Looking down, you feel another tear rolling. “Sorry.”

“It's alright, honey. It's good to see you feel comfortable around Daryl.” The mention of his name warms your heart. “I've never seen him so protective of anyone.”

“Daryl is...” Your hero, your anchor. He's the only thing holding you up, keeping you from falling apart.

“I know. I can see it in your eyes.” Carol stands up, giving you one last glance before heading to the door. “And I see it in his eyes too.”

You're left alone again, with your thoughts and memories. Daryl only comes back a few hours later, telling you he had spoken to both Rick and Deanna, and your stay in Alexandria was allowed. He says they usually make a small gathering to welcome new residents, but it'll only happen when and if you want it. You don't. In fact, you don't think you can leave this house just yet. You haven't even left the room, just for a few minutes every morning, when the streets are empty to get some sunlight. Anything else doesn't feel safe.

Later that night, you're wide awake after a quick nap brought the memories back as nightmares. So you just lie there, facing the ceiling, in the dark, shaking like a leaf. Even though the silence, the walls, and blankets covering you, you feel unprotected, exposed, vulnerable.

“The morning is coming.” You tell yourself, whispering, barely hearing your own voice. The sun will come back, the darkness will vanish and... And you'll probably feel pretty much the same way. “The morning is–” You're cut short when you hear footsteps, quickly pushing yourself up, biting back a moan when your body hurts. But your whole body relaxes when you see Daryl walking by, through the open door. He stops when he sees you, confusion on his face.

“What are ya doin’ up?” He asks, stepping inside the room.

“I'm not sleeping.” You mumble, not sure if the answer makes much sense. “I don't sleep. Not much.”

“Why?” Daryl sits on the edge of the bed, and you lie back down, holding his hand as usual.

“Bad dreams.” You admit, your eyes on his. You can't see the blue in this darkness, but you don't have to. Feeling his stare is enough to calm you down, make you relax. “If you... If you stay here– If you sleep here I– Maybe I can...” The words get all confused, as you understand what you're asking of him. But you need him, you're suddenly aware. If he's here through the night, you'll feel safe. You'll be able to sleep, knowing he's around.

“Ya want me here?” Daryl says, his voice low as if he didn't want to disturb the night.

“Yes, but... If you don't want it's ok. I– I'm just...” Restless, you move a little, feeling stupid for asking Daryl such thing. But you need him so much. Tears start rolling down, so you look away, breathing fast.

“Alright, alright.” You feel when he starts moving, and you do the same, sliding to the side to give him space. “Careful.” He says as you push yourself up a little, heart beating fast at the sensation of having him here.

You're not thinking much, and when you use your left leg to push your weight up, you feel a sting and a sharp pain spreading through your leg. A groan leaves your lips at the same moment, and you wince in pain, freezing in place. You feel wetness on the wound, and you quickly push the blankets away, all air leaving your lungs when you see blood staining the white bandages.

“Calm down.” You hear Daryl's voice, but you're hyperventilating, the agony of the flesh wound reopened bringing tears to your eyes. “Carol!” He shouts, startling you a little. “Lemme see.”

You nod, lying back down as he moves the blankets away, his hands just brushing against your skin. “It's ripped.” You moan, trying not to move, despite how your body is shaking.

“What happened?” Carol gets here quickly, her eyes wide.

“Go get Denise.” Daryl's voice is urgent, and it sounds like an order. She doesn't say anything before bolting away. “You'll be alright. I'll remove the bandages, ‘s that ok?” With your eyes closed, you nod, barely feeling his fingers on your skin as the dressings are removed. Soon enough you feel the cold wind on your flesh. “Some stitches are ripped. Not all of them.”

You barely hear his voice above the agony, covering your face with both your hands. “It hurts.” You mutter, feeling stupid for stating the obvious.

“I know. Denise will–” He's still speaking when Denise comes in suddenly, saying something you can't understand.

She's soon working on your leg, applying local anesthesia before anything else. You're relieved when the pain starts to fade, but you can't look. You feel the blood flowing out, and if wasn't for Daryl holding you, you'd lose it.

As Denise stitches you up, you have your back on Daryl's chest, his arms encircling your waist. You try not to shake, not to move, but it's hard. The tears come flooding again, as the memories try to haunt you. “ ‘S alright, babygirl. You'll be alright.” Daryl says on your ear, and you close your eyes tight.

He stays even after Denise leaves, still holding you as you hold on to him. The silence is comfortable, safe, and you feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.

“How long have you carried me here?” You ask, voice low and weak.

“Four days.”

“Four days?” You move to look at him, but his grip gets tighter, holding you in place.

“Careful. Ya gotta move slowly.” Settling back into place, you nod. “I had my bike but I didn't think ya could hold on so I carried ya.”

“I'm sorry...” Whispering, you grab a handful of the fabric of his shirt. “It must have been exhausting.”

“Don't apologize. All the way I was prayin’ I wasn't bringin’ ya here just to bury ya.” His chest vibrates, moving up and down as he breathes.

“You kept me alive.” Taking a deep breath, you rub your hand on his chest, as if making sure he's really here. Your hero. You will never understand why he did that, or how much trouble he put himself through to get you here, to save you. “Your voice was the only thing calling me back into consciousness and... For so long I just wanted to die already but you... You made me want to try. To live.”

“And ya will live now. I promise ya, (Y/N).”

A small, quick smile comes to your lips. Even though it's gone too soon, it feels good to know you still that the capacity to do such a thing.

And it happens again, in the morning after, when you open your eyes to find Daryl still in the bed with you.

@funeral-7 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @twdeadfanfic @soraitmnt @winchester-angel @bvbwestfall @shawtygonemad @cameronsails @pulplorrd

#daryl imagine #imagine daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon imagine #imagine daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead x reader #imagine the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction

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buckyjamess-archive · 4 years ago

Text

chocolate chips & babies

a/n: hello @onceuponadetectivedemigod I'm your secret Santa for the Get down give joy event! This is my first time participating in such thing. I absolutely loved the things you requested & this is where I ended up, I hope you enjoy it! also, sorry for not sending so much anons; I didn't know what to ask :')

pairings: ben hardy x reader

warnings: fluff town baby, call your dentist in advance. Dad!ben needs a warning on its own.

wordcount: 1.4k+

summery; Christmas with the Jones' is never the same.

"Daddy, this one has Santa in it."

Ben looks down at his daughter, Emily, shaking another snow globe in her purple gloved hands. Blonde hair flowing from underneath her purple hat. Rosy cheeks and the tip of her nose red.

"No, you're joking?"

Kneeling down to his daughter's height, he catches the globe from her tiny hands and examines it closely. How the snow floats around Santa, the Christmas tree and the tiny snowman.

"It sure is Santa," Ben smiles at his daughter "we need to find mum and your brother, okay?"

Emily nods her head and watches how her dad sets the snowglobe back on the shelf, amongst all others she enjoyed. Ben gets back on his feet and reaches for her hands, which wraps around his finger.

Making their way out of the little corner store and out on the cold streets of London, Ben finds himself and his daughter in a mob of people.

People desperately trying to find that one last, perfect gift for under the tree. People trying to get the last turkey from the store a few blocks down. People arguing. People yelling--

Oh the joys of Christmas.

"C'mon, sweetheart."

In a swift move, Ben raises Emily off the ground and holds her tight against his side. Her arms wrapping around his neck.

"Where's mummy?"

"I don't know," ben mumbles, subtly pushing past the group of arguing women "but we'll find her."

"We have too," Emily states as a matter of fact "we were going to bake cookies."

"Yeah, did mum promise you that?" Ben asked curiously.

Emily nods her head "with hot chocolate."

It can't be hard to find you, right? A woman he came to love so dearly, walking around with his son, his carbon copy, sporting a seven month baby bump under a layer of clothes..not that difficult, if the streets weren't packed as if every store decides to give things away for free.

Christmas with the jones..never the same.

"Maybe Santa can give me the snow globe."

"Maybe he will sweetheart."

You push the stroller back and forth in the hopes to make your over emotional toddler sleepy and though he's dozed off minutes ago, you can't be too sure and stop it.

Noah his rosy, chubby cheeks are squished as his head rests against the metal of the stroller. Quiffs of blonde peeking from under his red and blue, fireman Sam hat. Clutching onto a stuffed rabbit he'd gotten from his big sister.

You rub over your still and seemingly never growing bump when little miss Jones causes a ruckus. Honestly, you're still surprised she hasn't broken any of your ribs or caused any internal bleeding,

something you'd not had experienced yet, Emily and Noah were the easiest babies you'd seen among your friends, just like their dad, not only in looks but in manners but something tells you this little babe is going to be your carbon copy.

Sitting down on the stone bench, your feet ache. A sigh leaving your lips when your son starts to shift in his stroller the second you stop moving it.

Home, that's all you want at this moment. Gather your little family, walk home and heat up with some hot chocolate underneath the Christmas tree while watching a movie. Underneath a thick fluffy blanket preferably.

Only if you didn't lose your husband in the madness called the great Christmas depression. Maybe it was a bad idea to do some Christmas shopping last minute after all.

The cold England weather sends a shiver down your spine and you tuck the blanket further up Noah's body, carefully to not wake him up.

The familiar sound of the voices belonging to those of your husband and daughter catches your attention. You stand up, looking around the bush streets and it takes a while before you spot the two blondies.

You wave in the hopes they see you and they do as Emily points into your direction.

"It's a madhouse." Ben grumbles when he reaches you "lets head back home."

"Gladly." You mumble back.

The walk home isn't long. You've rarely left the block. You've walked this route a hundred times, ten minutes at last but with the ache in your feet and back, it made it look like hours but with Emily pushing the stroller, it gave Ben the opportunity to snake his arm around your back, helping you to find some sort of relief.

"This is the last kid, Jones." You complain "unless you're planning to carry them."

"Don't think I'm able to be such an amazing human being," ben chuckles "I'm just a man."

"This one better look like me."

You watch Emily, carefully pushing the stroller with her little brother around. Nearly reaching the handles, even on her tiny toes but peeking around it to make sure to go straight.

Both carbon copies of their daughter.

"I'm sorry love, can't help it. My genes are stronger."

"Mate, calm down." Ben laughs when he pulls his son hand away from the batch of cookie batter "when's the last time we fed you."

You're seated at the breakfast bar, nursing a hot chocolate, like you imagined minutes ago.

Emily stands tall on her step, flour covering nearly every inch of her body, rolling batter into small balls, licking her fingers clean once in a while.

Noah on his knees on the kitchen counter, anything edible disappearing into his mouth whenever he can get his hands on it.

Ben stands behind him, able to pull his son back whenever it's needed. Hand gripping the back of Noah's shirt.

"Grandma says you get sick from eating it." Emily says, looking back from Ben to you and back "chickens will grow in your stomach because the eggs are raw."

"Did she?" Ben raises his brow as he looks at his daughter, mouthing a 'What the hell?' In your direction

"Is it true?"

"No honey, grandma is crazy." You say "You can get sick from it, so don't eat too much."

"Do you want some?"

She holds out a ball of dough in your direction. A smile reaching her ears, showing off her pearly whites

"No, the baby doesn't like it." You refuse but give her the same warm smile she's giving you.

She turns back to her dad, holding out the same piece but when Ben refuses it too, she sets it in the tray in front of her, pushing it down with her hands.

"I will make cookies for all of you!" Emily cheers "even for Santa!"

"That's a good idea love," Ben smiles, "Maybe he'll get you that snow globe."

"Yes!"

The two of you share a smile but it falters fast when Noah gets a hold of the bag of chocolate chips, nearly stuffing his mouth with a hand full.

"Mate, you need to calm down." Ben states "he's got that from you."

"As if you didn't eat my last candy bar, Jones."

"Go easy on your mum or you'll be the last one."

You roll your eyes at Ben, his face close to your bump. The lights of the Christmas tree and the fairy lights illuminating the features on his face.

With the two rascals all tucked in and sound asleep, it's just you, Ben and the little bean. A moment you'll forever cherish, a moment that rarely happened.

"So, if you want a brother or sister-"

"Ben, please," you chuckle "I don't want to think about another kid right now. She's not even born yet."

Ben sits back up right and rests his feet on the coffee table, laying his arm on the couch behind you "What about a football team?"

"I'll personally give you a vasectomy."

"I'm joking." Ben throws his head back, nearly causing a whiplash as he lets out a laugh

"I'm not tough." You smirk at him "I love you but I'm not going to care a football team, find yourself another wife if you have too."

"I would never."

Ben kisses your temple and places his hand back on your stomach and if on queue, the little bean kicks up against his hand.

"Already a daddys princess." Ben jokes "three girls to fight for my attention."

You raise your brows and fake a smile "Oh, I'll always fight for your attention."

"These mood swings really getting to you this time, huh?" Ben chuckles "Where's the Christmas spirit?"

You huff and lean back on the couch, throwing your legs in Ben's lap. Without thinking, Ben reaches for them, massaging away the ache in them.

"We've to make sure we feed these kids," Ben says "look at our poor son."

Tough it's a little hectic and a bit chaotic and, ben wouldn't want his family to be any different.

#getdowngivejoy #get down give joy #hope you like it!#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy imagine #Ben hardy

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seonghwa-is-babie · 4 years ago

Text

Soft kitten

Hybrid! Seonghwa x male reader

Warning: mentioned abuse, crying, angst

Note: I think this the fastest I've ever redone a fic😳😳

Hope u enjoy!

"get up, pet" the guard said as seonghwa's cage opened, stepping out with his ears and tail hanging low. not really sure where he had to go, only knowing to obey orders, or he'll get even more beatings than just the daily torture of malnutrition.

Seonghwa lost hope ever since they kidnapped him from his home in the jungles and brought him to this prison like building, he had tried escaping many times, but every one of those failed. and the punishment for them was even worse than a failed attempt at freedom

They stopped in front of a curtain, pushing the boy through it. He fell to the ground, only when he looked up did he realise what his situation was. It was an auction, selling hybrids for a lot of money

"now up next as you can see, this beautiful white tiger hybrid, only 22 years old" prices were being shouted through the room, building up price little by little, until "$100,000,000" a voice said, this shocked everyone, including seonghwa. who'd give out that much just for a hybrid? "sold! You may come and get your hybrid after the auction"

After the auction, they put him back in his cage. He secretly hoped his new 'home' will be better than this one, though, he doubts it'll be anything different from his current life. Footsteps started coming to his cage and stopped in front of him

"get up" said the man who sold him. Seonghwa had trouble with it due to his wounds from the previous beatings "I'm terribly sorry for his lazy attitude sir" he said as the boy got up to face his new owner "it's fine" said the man who bought him. he was handsome, but seonghwa wasn't one to be fooled easily by appearances. he wore a fancy velvet suit and had (h/c) hair that was styled neatly

The older man did the leash on seonghwa's collar and handed it to the other "it's all yours now" the man nodded and left the building, seonghwa's ears still hanging low. He was glad to be out of there, but what will happen after this?

They got to a car that was parked relatively close, the other opened the door for him. Seonghwa didn't ask anything and stepped inside, the other went to the drivers seat and started driving "so what's your name?" he looked up shyly and said "s-s-seonghwa, sir." "that's a pretty name, and you can drop the sir or any formalities, just call me y/n." seonghwa blushed "thank you si- y/n, sorry" y/n shook it off.

🐯

The rest of the ride was quiet, seonghwa being too afraid and shy to start any conversation. "you don't talk much, do you?" y/n asked, seonghwa tensed up afraid he did something wrong

"it's alright, I get it. Your previous home must've been rough and laid down a lot of rules" y/n looked at seonghwa through the mirror of the car "I'm sorry you had to go through that, but don't worry, you won't have to go through that ever again, I'll make sure of it"

was his luck finally turning around? he didn't wanna get his hopes up too high too soon though, after all the man could just be lying to him "actually, I already have 7 hybrids I take care of already, they're like family to me." this made the smaller relieved, yet still nervous and frankly, a bit scared, what if the other hybrids don't like him or beat him like some of the others did back at his now old home.

They arrived at a big mansion, to seonghwa, it was a bit terrifying. When they got out of the car, y/n gestured seonghwa to come closer, the other obeyed but got extremely nervous when he felt hands around his neck, he flinched, pulling away "oh, I'm sorry, I was just gonna take your collar off since it looks a bit uncomfortable" seonghwa calmed down a bit, enough to let y/n finish taking his collar off. The older then gestured to take his hand, which the other took

Y/n opened the door, hoping the boys didn't mess up the house too bad, only to be met with no damage whatsoever "huh, that's new. Nothing's broken or damaged" seonghwa looked at him confused, but decided against asking, since he was still a bit on edge

He heard multiple pairs of feet come their way and hid behind y/n "hyung! You're home!" multiple voices said, they must be his other hybrids. All of them ran up to him to give him a hug, and that's when they noticed Seonghwa "hyung, who's that?" San, a cat hybrid who was currently in the older's arms, pointed behind y/n, eager to know the strangers name

"right, boys could you all please calm down a bit, I have some important news" that made the boys perk up "I've decided to bring another friend home, this is seonghwa, I hope you'll be kind to him like you are to each other. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to show seonghwa his room, you can ask him questions after that"

🐯

It's been about a month since seonghwa was introduced to the house, and he felt like he was in heaven, many friends, a loving owner that helped him get over past traumas, who he might be starting to like a little more than just his owner, and the freedom to finally chose for himself.

but not everything was all sunshine and rainbows. After a few weeks he started to question why he was even brought into this house, why y/n wanted him so badly that he spent $100,000,000 on him alone. how could seonghwa ever even try to pay him back, at this point he just feels like a burden to the man

🐯

One evening after dinner, seonghwa headed to his room early , claiming he was tired. When he got to his room, he started thinking 'why would he take me in, it seems like he has enough hybrids already, so why bring home another mouth to feed. He should have just left me there, where I won't be a burden to him' thinking more and more of these thoughts, he started to silently cry into his sheets

🐯

"boys, I'm gonna check up on seonghwa ok, I'll be back in a minute" the youngsters gave him quick 'ok' and went back to the show that was playing. As y/n was walking towards his room, he couldn't help but feel worried about the tiger hybrid, something seemed a bit odd when he went to his room so early.

He opened the door to seonghwa's room, only to find the latter seemingly sound asleep. y/n smiled at him and went to close the door, until he heard a quiet sniff coming from seonghwa's direction "seonghwa?" he didn't answer "seonghwa?" again, he didn't answer, but the older went in because he knew that he wasn't just hearing things.

He crouched down on the younger's bedside, but he had already covered his face with his blanket "seonghwa, could you please lower the sheets, I want to see your face for a second" y/n spoke in a gentle tone. The younger shook his head "please seonghwa, I want to make sure you're alright, and I can't do that without looking at your face

Seonghwa hesitated, but slowly lowered the sheets, revealing his red eyes and tear stained cheeks, the older immediately became worried, but tried to keep his calm "kitten, what's wrong? Did someone hurt you? Is it-"

"why did you get me?" y/n was shocked at that "you already have so many, so why bring in another mouth to feed. You could have easily left me to get bought by someone else. So why?! Why did you buy a stupid tiger that's nothing more than a burden to you?!?!"

he couldn't believe what he was hearing, to him, seonghwa, though having only been here for a short time, has become one of the most important people in his life. He couldn't let seonghwa think about himself like that

"seonghwa, i got you because from the first time I saw you, I knew you needed someone, someone that loves you and respects you, and I thought, I could be that person. It doesn't matter to me how many hybrids there are in my house, I will take care of all of you no matter what. And trust me, you're not a burden, you already help so much around the house, and the others already love you to death, I love you to death. Please, don't think that about yourself, I know you've been through a lot of stuff, but right here, right now, I'll promise to keep you save until I draw my last breath, you're save with us, with me"

Seonghwa cried, but these tears were those of happiness. He engulfed y/n in a hug, wrapping his arms around the olders neck while putting his head in his his chest "th-th-an-k you, thank you so much!" y/n stroked the younger's back, carefully lifting himself on the bed "it's alright dear, you're safe with me, no one's gonna hurt you"

🐯

After a while of comforting y/n realised he hasn't told the boys to go to bed yet "sweetheart, I have to go see the boys for a little and make sure they go to bed, is that alright with you?" seonghwa didn't let him go "can't you stay here?" he chuckled at the younger clinging onto him as if his life depended on it

"I'll only be gone for a few minutes, then I'll come straight back to you" the younger continued his whining "nooooo, I wanna stay with you" y/n lifted him up so he was wrapped around his chest, clinging on him like a koala "then you're coming with me"

"boys, it's time for bed" y/n said as he came downstairs, the others looked at him with a questioning look "what?" he asked, the others gave knowing looks to each other "hyung?" San asked "yeah, what is it?" the next words, y/n definitely didn't expect to hear "do you like seonghwa hyung?"

🐯

The question had stuck with him since the others went to bed 'maybe I do like him, he brings a smile to my face just by existing, he's a true sweetheart, not to mention he's the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on' " umm, y/n?" the older turned his head to seonghwa "I ummm, might have heard what you and San talked about" y/n sighed, sitting up from the bed, already knowing where this was going "I understand it if you felt uncomfortable about that, but he wasn't wrong actually, I've found myself quite fond of you actually, but I completely understand if these feelings aren't the same for you."

the two stood there in complete silence "I guess I should go I probably made this extrem-" "no wait!" y/n looked back at seonghwa who's face was completely red "umm, I umm, I also like you, the feelings' mutual" he almost stuttered out completely. The older smiled softly at him, crawling back into bed with him, petting his ears "You're so soft, kitten."

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x male reader #kpop #kpop x male reader #seonghwa x male reader #hybrid #park seonghwa #seonghwa

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