#plus I had slept less than usual
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I wake up earlier than usual today, because I'm not in my own bed. My little sister's already up, I can hear her in the bathroom.
After breakfast, we cycle to the grocery store, and even though it's raining a bit, I'm in good spirits.
We're not even a minute inside or my brain seems to shut down. It's the morning on a weekday, but the place is buzzing. All around me are movement and smells and sounds. I cannot but notice them. All at once. My sister's up ahead already, and by the time I finally get to her, she asks, "Are you okay?" "Too many people."
Tonight, I ask her how she knew. "You looked uneasy," she says. "Looking around a lot and staying behind and close to the cart."
I held onto that thing like it was a buoy in a stormy ocean. The only thing that kept me grounded.
It was still raining on the way home.
#grocery shopping#anxiety#depression#mental health#high sensitivity#giftedness#giftedness often comes with high sensitivity and if you add on my current ongoing depressive episode you have a cocktail for social anxiety#it's usually present when I'm in a grocery store and this was an unfamiliar one which doesn't help either#plus I had slept less than usual#needed some serious decompressing after#writing#my writing#a story every day#8 may#2024
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More Than Skin Deep
Word Count: 766
cw: Fem! Reader, Self-esteem issues, reference to scars and disfigurement, established relationship, hurt with comfort
A/N: This is my first time writing for Wade! Honestly I wanted this to be short and sweet–plus this man is sooo deserving of some gentle love❤️ Would y’all be more open to content with Wade? How are we feeling?
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The night was quiet—surprisingly so for a place like New York City, where the streets never truly slept. But here, in the dim light of Wade’s apartment, the world outside seemed a distant memory. The soft glow of the streetlamp filtered through the window, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, illuminating the gentle rise and fall of Wade’s chest as he lay on the bed.
You sat beside him, your fingers tracing the well-worn path over his skin. Wade Wilson—merc with a mouth, the man who’d seen more carnage than most could even imagine—was currently as still as you’d ever seen him. His eyes were half-closed, a rare vulnerability etched into the lines of his face.
Your fingers followed the familiar route, gliding over the uneven terrain of his chest. Every scar, every imperfection, was a testament to the battles he’d fought and survived. They were part of him, part of the man you loved, and you cherished each one.
“Why do you do that?” Wade’s voice was softer than usual, lacking the usual quip or joke. There was something raw in his tone, something unguarded. He didn’t open his eyes, though. Maybe he was afraid to see what might be reflected in yours.
“Do what?” you asked, your voice equally gentle. Your fingers continued their journey, moving lower, tracing the ridges and valleys of his abdomen. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the tension in his muscles gradually easing under your ministrations.
“This.” He gestured vaguely to where your hands roamed. “Touch me like I’m… I dunno, something precious.”
You smiled, though he couldn’t see it. “Because you are.”
Wade let out a scoff, the sound more automatic than genuine. "Come on, you can't really find this attractive," he muttered, a trace of self-deprecation in his voice.
You smiled softly, leaning down to kiss one of the scars on his chest. "I find you attractive," you whispered against his skin, feeling the subtle tremor of a laugh as it reverberated through him.
You shifted, lying down beside him so you could face him, your hand moving to cup his cheek. His skin was rough here too, but to you, it was perfect. You brushed your thumb across the ridge of his jaw, feeling the way he leaned into your touch, despite himself.
“You’re not just scars, Wade,” you said, your voice firm but tender. “You’re the man who makes me laugh until my sides hurt. You’re the guy who takes on the worst of the worst to protect people, even if you’d never admit that’s why you do it. You’re the person who makes me feel safe, and loved, and important.”
Wade’s eyes finally opened, and you saw the conflict in them—an uncertainty that rarely showed itself. “You really believe all that?”
“I do.” You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and slow. “I love every part of you. The loud, the quiet, the scars, the smile… all of it. You’re mine, Wade, and I’m not letting go.”
He exhaled a shaky breath, his hand coming up to rest on yours where it still cupped his cheek. “You’re too good for me,” he said, but there was less conviction in his words this time.
“Maybe,” you teased lightly, pulling back just enough to see the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “But you’re stuck with me now.”
Wade’s hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the lie in your words. But there wasn’t one. What he saw was the truth—the unconditional, unwavering love you had for him.
“Guess I could get used to that,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
You kissed him again, letting your lips linger, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him. Your hand drifted down his chest once more, over the scars and the rough patches, your touch reverent, worshipful. You poured everything into that kiss, into your touch, wanting him to feel the depth of your love, to know it was real.
When you finally pulled back, Wade’s eyes were dark, filled with something that looked an awful lot like hope.
“Thank you,” he whispered, the words barely audible.
You just smiled, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, your heart full. “Always.”
And as the night stretched on, with the world outside growing quieter still, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms. Wade’s body relaxed completely under your gentle ministrations, his heart finally accepting what his mind struggled to comprehend.
That he was loved—scars and all.
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#wade wilson#deadpool#deadpool 3#deadpool and wolverine#marvel#mcu#fem reader#wade wilson x fem reader#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x reader#fluff#hurt/comfort#ryan reynolds
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WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW. | LH43
pairing: fratboy!luke x fem!reader
summary: you finally break the news to your boyfriend about what’s been going on
warnings: pregnancy, sexual implications, I think that’s it ??
au masterlist
You know that feeling when you just know you’re inlove? When nothing else around matters, when all you can hear is the laugh of that person — and your own laughter — and when bad things, just for a moment, disappear completely.
Luke Hughes felt that about you. Y/N James, or he preferred it — Lovie, because you were the love of his life.
His frat brothers would probably snicker at Luke if they had took a look into his brain and thoughts, but he could care less. Sure, they were very close to one another, but his frat brothers had absolutely no idea what love was. They knew the concept, but they slept with girls faster than they’d change their clothes.
Luke wasn’t about that life, he wanted more, he wanted someone who he’d actually spend nights talking to about the future, not just someone who could warm his bed at night.
“Luke,” you sniffle, watching the boy in front of you bring his vision back to focus. “Are you mad?”
Luke blinks. He had almost forgotten where he was — in your dorm, holding onto your shaking hands. Just moments earlier, you had blurted out a sentence that made his jaw drop.
“I’m pregnant.”
Unlike his frat brothers who would automatically question the girl if the baby was even his; Luke knew down to his core. You were loyal, and so was he, so it didn’t take much braincells to know that the baby was most definitely his.
“Mad? Lovie, I could never be mad at you.” His heart breaks at your distressed state, bringing your head towards him to place a kiss on. “I’d never be mad at something that we both caused. It wasn’t just you, it was me as well.”
You let out a small sob, shaking your head as you rested it deeper into Luke’s chest. You were stressed, being a sophomore in college while also raising a baby didn’t seem so ideal. Plus, Luke being part of a fraternity and student athlete meant he was going to be busy for most of the time
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you say. “We should’ve been more careful.”
“I know,” Luke coos, rubbing your back comfortingly.
He remembered the date it possibly could’ve happened on. Him and you had quite a bit to drink at a party his fraternity was hosting, and before the two of you knew it, you had ended up in his room, clothes discarded on the floor.
Luke vaguely remembers reaching for his bedside stool, where he usually kept his condoms. Only this time, it’s empty. One of his frat brothers, Nick, had asked to have a few just a day earlier.
“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “I’ll take Plan B.”
Clearly, that didn’t work. And you had a perfect two lined pregnancy test to prove it.
“Well,” Luke lets out a breathy exhale. “Luckily, baby Hughes will have 2 uncles that will spoil them to death.”
You giggle at that, imagining a little you and Luke running around the house while Quinn and Jack chased them.
“We’ll be okay,” Luke reassures you.
“And if we won’t?”
“That’s for me to worry about,” the brunette boy lets out a laugh. “All you need to worry about now is keeping baby Hughes healthy.”
You roll your eyes jokingly, nodding as you leaned into the comfort of his touch.
#lovie & luke + baby hughes#Luke Hughes#luke hughes angst#luke hughes x oc#luke hughes fluff#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes fic#luke hughes smut#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes fanfic#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes imagines#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x y/n
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can i have the om brothers dealing with insomniac+workaholic!mc? Diavolo made a grave fucking mistake when unwillingly inviting mc to the devildom. can't sleep? work. bored? work. have nothing else to do? ask Lucifer or Diavolo for more work to do, or maybe cook something for Beel.
also, insomnia isn't easy to deal with. they have to pull out the strongest sleep potion or magic out there for that fucker to sleep. "oh have you tried melatonin?" YES I HAVE?? I'VE TRIED- "do you turn off your lights when you go to sleep?" no, i sleep with the lights on-- OF COURSE I TURN OFF THE LIGHTS YOU FUCKIN BALL LICKER. "maybe stop being on that phone of yours at late at night.." I CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP SO I MIGHT AS WELL DO SOMETHING.
whenever mc runs out of things to do, they re-do an assignment that got less than a 100% score.. someone drag this dymbfuck away from their work..
can i be🍷anon? or glass-eater anon? :3
hello!! yes, of course
those are both amazing anon names haha, welcome to the anon crew
enjoy <3
Workaholic Insomniac Mc
Lucifer
you can bet both of yall are making eye contact in the hallway at four am, and neither of you have slept
he gets you bestie
however he's willing to acknowledge both of you are practicing an unhealthy habit
together, you can take days off and as much as you itch to do work, you can stop each other. what a fun bonding activity!
Mammon
this is just like dealing with lucifer so he knows the drill
let you work as much as you want during the day without shirking your other responsibilities, but after dinner, he's dragging you away from it by the back of your shirt
when he can't fall asleep, he goes for a night drive, to nowhere in particular
so, he always invites you, because he knows you can't say no to him
Levi
he's also almost always awake at odd hours of the night, so he's always available
he would not be great to work in the same room as though
however he is willing to get you away from your work for a while to play some games with him
he knows that you need time away from that paper work and as much as you want to go back to it, he'll keep you with him until you complete the level. mark his word haha
Satan
will help you make those sleeping potions, or has solomon make some for you
if you ever want help with your work, he's willing to lend a hand, even though he knows you almost always say no
whenever you're awake at night, he'll come and sit where ever you're sitting to read so you'll have company
more often than not, he and belphie are next to you while you work as a silent indicator of what, or who, is waiting for you when you're done or want to take a break
Asmo
he fully believes in relaxing before bed and since he loves it so much, he suggests you try it with him
the first night you tried didn't really go as planned because he got a little overexcited so you had to try again the next night
that goes much better, and while it wasn't instant sleep, it was certainly better than staring at the ceiling for hours
plus, you get to spend time with asmo! who doesn't want that?
Beel
he won't lie he does enjoy the occasional impromptu meal you make for him when you've really got no more work to do (which is rare)
but he's concerned about you
honestly he thinks you're just like lucifer, you sincerely care about those around you and you work with them in mind
if you ever find random refreshments on your desk in the few moments you were gone, just know it was probably him
Belphie
as the self proclaimed king of sleep, he's always going out of his way to try and help you out
sometimes he falls asleep on your bed waiting for you to join him, while satan is still somehow going strong with his reading
if he notices you sitting at your desk for far too long, he'll start to whine and complain until you get in bed with him
sometimes, while he feels guilty, he'll use his power to help you fall asleep faster and give you a sweet dream that's usually about him
#obey me#obey me!#obey me x reader#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me lucifer#obey me beel#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me belphie#omswd#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we date
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Never Alone
paring: Bradley Bradshaw x female!IC!reader (callsign Nike )
wordcount: ca. 6,7k
synopsis: When you wake up on Saturday morning you feel surprisingly well-rested and calm considering what happened at the restaurant last night. That is until you realise that you are in a stranger's bed wearing clothes that are not your own and you are pulled into someone's chest. What the fuck actually happened last night?
note: Here we go. Part two is finally here and it's longer than the first one. I hope people are still enjoying my Rooster debut. It's self-indulgent AF and I had a great time writing it. So far I've planned the outline for part three to finish off their story nicely. But until then, much fun with Part 2.
And you know that navy inaccuracies are a given with my stuff, but this time I went a bit more ham than usual. The role of IC (Incident Commander) is existing in crisis and natural disaster management but fuck if I know if some work for the Navy. I made all of that up for the sake of the plot. Don't like that, please skip this one. And last but not least, yes this is yet again very self-indulgent stuff and it will get only worse with the next part, so if you don't like it, click off 😘
A huge thanks again to @mynameismckenziemae for the nudge into Rooster's direction for this plot and thank you to @vermillionwinter for listening to my rambling and giving me feedback. Without her, this would still be rotting away in my drafts.
Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): plus-size!reader, military/navy inaccuracies, non-canon (not even sure if this is canon compliant so, take that as you will), self-deprecation, cursing, verbal abuse (not from Rooster); mental health talk ( trauma; dissociative episode; suicidal ideation), written by a non-native speaker
|| Masterlist ||
Part 1 || Part 3
divider by @sweetmelodygraphics banner by @firefly-graphics gif by @theartofimagining13
!!!Minors do not interact! I block blank blogs/without age/Minors!!!
When you wake up the next morning you feel... well-rested and oddly comfortable. You haven't slept this well in forever, a warmth filling your body and a comforting weight that pressed you into the mattress. Closing your eyes once more you try to drift back to sleep. Waking up meant that he would surely knock on your door again and you just didn't have it in you to deal with him. After last night you are not even sure if you could deal with him ever again. His booming voice is still ringing in your ear. One would think there is a day when you get used to it, but sadly for you, that day never came. "Lay still, beautiful. It's too early to wake up", you hear a raspy voice whisper in your ear before a face presses into your neck and you feel something scratching over your skin and a leg being thrown over yours.
What the fuck happened last night? You remembered getting up and storming out of the restaurant. You still hear his voice echoing in your head but after that, it was blank, no matter how hard you tried to remember. You had assumed you went home, got into bed and... Your breath quickened as you looked down your body. You wore a jersey you had never seen before and had your fingers entangled with a large, strong hand that rested on your stomach. Brother in Christ what had you done?
Breathing through your nose you try to make each breath a little longer in the hopes to calm your hammering heart that threatened to break free from your ribcage. You feel the way his hand is squeezing yours as his lips press a kiss to your shoulder. "I hear you thinking, Nike", he whispered and now that the person behind you seemed a little more awake, voice less husky and more normal, you finally realised who was lying behind you. Bradley fucking Rooster Bradshaw. You were in bed with one of the Lieutenants that you worked with on the regular. Wonderful. Congratulations for fucking up even more spectacularly than you ever did before. This warrants a fucking award.
Even with the man practically wrapped around you, you turn around, his hand still holding yours when you are searching his face for any indicator of what happened last night. His eyes are closed, his hair messy and his skin shimmering golden in the morning sun. You had never quite realised what a beautiful man Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw is. Closing your eyes to clear your head you take another deep breath before you finally find the bravery to talk. "How did I end up in your bed, Bradshaw?"
His eyes are suddenly open wide when he hears your question. You didn't remember? He was pretty sure that you weren't drunk, so whatever you experienced had to be bad enough for your brain to shut down. "I found you in front of the Hard Deck. You were in really bad shape and asked me for a place to stay", his soft brown eyes are searching yours, lifting the hand you are still holding up to his chest. You are nodding slowly. In your state, your brain had apparently classified the Hard Deck as a safer space than your own home. Considering that he had keys to your place, probably not the worst idea you ever had. "You were terrified to be alone...", if someone would ask him, he'd mark up the fact that he presses a soft kiss to your palm to still being caught in a sleepy haze. "Makes sense", you murmur, brain wrecking to fill in the blanks that you had, but there was just an endless void.
He wants to ask you what happened but he worries the question would open the Pandora's box anew and pull you back into the abyss. So he decided to wait, knowing that if you deemed him trustworthy enough, you would tell him. Pulling your hand from him you sit up in the bed, your eyes are taking in the room for the first time and you cannot help the chuckle falling from your lips when your eyes land on the boxer-clad bedside lamp.
For Rooster losing that close contact with you felt wrong, almost painful. Your warmth in his arms had been so good, feeling the way you pressed your back against his chest was so right and the way your head tilted a little to the side to make room for his face in the crook of your neck so he could indulge in the sweet kisses he pressed to your skin made his heart soar. Fuck even the fact that the arm that you had rested on was still numb was perfect. When he hears you chuckle his heart skips a beat, eyes following your gaze, a pink hue spreading over his cheek and neck when he saw what he had used to dim down the light last night. "Oh fuck" And then he hears your laughter, making him turn back to you with a smile on his lips as bright as the sun. Seeing you last night had left him feeling powerless and defeated, unable to really help you or make you feel better. To know that at least for now you were doing better meant the world to him. "The bathroom is..." "Right through that door. Your dress is in there too, but I'm sure I'll find some shorts around for you to wear" There is a short flicker in your eyes before you look down at your hands. "Don't sweat it, Rooster", you get up from the bed and walk straight through the door without looking back at him.
The moment you got out of his bed he had to force himself not to stare at your ass that was barely covered by his jersey. It had to be some primal part of his brain but to see you wear his clothing turned the warmth in his chest into a fucking wildfire. Shaking his head he searched for a pair of sweatpants he placed on the dresser for you before he left for the kitchen. He had to do something, anything really to distract his mind from the images that it was conjuring up. You in his jersey, getting under the shower. Fuck he had to get his mind out of the gutter and fast. And if there was one thing he was good at to compensate for these carnal kinds of cravings, it was cooking.
Rooster made good on his promise and actually found a pair of sweatpants that were probably more than oversized on him but clung to your thighs and ass like a second skin. You had stared at your body in his bathroom mirror for a solid 5 minutes trying to decide whether the jersey was sufficiently covering the mess or if you had to ditch the comfy stuff for your dress. The mere idea to get back into the corset made your stomach churn so you just hoped he wouldn't mind your less-than-flattering outfit. At least he didn't say anything when you entered the kitchen, the table already filled with all kinds of delicious things. Pancakes, biscuits, scrambled eggs and toast.
"Wow", is all you can say and when he turns back at you with a smile on his face and pan in hand, the bacon still sizzling in the cast iron he makes you stop in his tracks. Wow indeed. Rooster looked drop-dead gorgeous with that muscle shirt and the grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips. How the fucking hell could you have missed that in the almost 7 years you worked with the man? "Perfect timing. Bacon is ready" He walks around the counter and puts the pan in the middle of the table next to the eggs before he pulls out the chair for you. "Thanks, Rooster" "My pleasure, Nike"
Sitting around the kitchen table with Rooster felt weirdly domestic and you couldn't even really remember when it had been the last time you did something as mundane as this. Just sit there and eat with someone and talk. No critisising, no yelling. Just an enjoyable conversation with the occasional laughter or a chuckle here and there but as pleasant as it was, last night was not really letting you go and as much as Bradley wanted to distract you and give you a chance to focus on something lighter and more enjoyable, he knew that your brain worked 24/7 and it wouldn't let something as big as an incident that caused a dissociative episode slide.
"You want me to tell you what happened last night?", he hates to disturb the comfortable silence between you but he can see in your eyes that even though you act relaxed, there is a part of you that cannot let go and maybe getting more puzzle pieces could help you with that. You didn't ask because you feared you'd destroy the magic of the moment, but with Bradshaw offering, you realised how occupied your brain was with that question so you just nodded. "I was about to leave the Hard Deck with someone when I heard you cry" "What happened to your date?" "Wasn't a date. Just a tag chaser." "What happened to her?" "Probably got herself another set of tags when I decided to get you home" You instantly feel bad. Hook up or not, Rooster had ditched someone else to get you to safety, staying the entire fucking night by your side and doing whatever you asked of him. "I'm sorry about that" "Don't, be Nike. It was for the better. She had a pretty weird idea about consent", he's shaking his head and you tilt yours a little to the side and arch your brow in confusion. "She took your distress for a fucking couple. I don't want someone like that in my bed", the scowl on his pretty features hits you to the core. You had always taken Rooster for one of the truly good guys and there was a part of you that couldn't help but feel glad that you had been right about him. "Once she was back inside I picked you up and carried you to the Bronco", the moment the words were out of his mouth your skin heated up. It was a shame fucking shame you couldn't remember... and then you realised what he just actually said. "You picked me up? God Rooster, you could have hurt yourself", you start chastising him and he looks up from the bacon and eggs on his plate with a raised brow. Did you really just question his strength and capability while he was sitting in front of you in a muscle shirt showing off his biceps and shoulders? "Nike I get my paycheck for being in top shape. I handled weights that are more than you... ", he starts and when his eyes find yours, it hits him. This is not about you not trusting him. It was about you thinking you were...
"You get your paycheck for flying a multimillion-dollar navy asset, Bradshaw", you correct him and his mind struggles to catch up to the conversation for a moment. "Semantics. If I fly that jet I have to be in perfect shape, so no. Carrying you to my car is no big deal and neither was carrying you from my car to the bedroom... ", he adds seeing your eyes widen in shock before you avert your gaze and bite down on your lower lip as if that could stop the wobbling before you let out a heavy sigh and whispered. "I'm so sorry you had to" There is so much shame on your face and that made the fury he had felt last night come back. Apparently, he had to add the person who made you believe that you weren't absolutely fucking perfect to his shit list, right after the person who sent you straight into an anxiety attack.
"Listen Nike. I don't know who made you believe otherwise, but let me tell you one thing. You are a goddess", he sees how you are shaking your head while blinking away the tears that are shimmering in your eyes. "You don't have to be nice, Rooster", you whisper and the pain he hears makes him wanna snap. Not at you, oh no, but those little dipshits who gave you as much as an impression that something was wrong with you. He's usually not one for a bar brawl but for you, he'd be fine with breaking a nose or two. Right now though all he can do is make you see how perfect you are. So he's leaning over the kitchen table and places his hand gently over yours. "So you think we named you after a Greek goddess for shits and giggles?", you see him in the corner of your eye and feel the warmth that is radiating from the hand that is holding yours. God you wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe him so bad but decades of mocking and harassment had left scars that weren't so easy to ignore. But there was a sincerity to the way he spoke. It wasn't like he was getting anything out of lying to you. Rooster had opened his home for you, gave you a place to stay when you needed it most and he had been nothing but supportive and kind the entire time.
You turn a little to the side and you see the way the corner of his mouth is raising and his chocolate-coloured eyes twinkle with mirth. You cannot help but smile back at him and the moment he sees it, he feels like he just won one of his greatest victories. "There she is", you kick him playfully under the table for his teasing, making both of you laugh.
"I can drop you off at your place, whenever you want" The words hit you out of the blue while you were standing right next to Rooster as you finished drying the dishes he had washed. Of course, he wanted you out of his place. It had been very generous that he offered you breakfast after he shared his bed with you, but now his hospitality was running out. "Yeah right. I am pretty sure that you have better things to do with your Saturday", there is a somberness to your words that makes him feel like he got punched in the gut. He never wanted to give you the feeling that you were unwelcome or that he had other stuff to do or places to be. All he wanted was for you to know that he was there for you, that he wouldn't just call you an Uber and call it a day. "That's not what I meant...", he starts, reaching out to take one of your hands into his. Yours were so tiny and wrapping his fingers around yours felt so right. "I just wanted you to know that I'll come with you to your apartment" "You really don't have to, Rooster. I'm a big girl, tying my own boots and all. I'll manage" "A very wise woman once told me that you never ride into Mordor alone. You can take a companion or a whole army, but under no circumstance do you go on your own" Your eyes were shooting up wide in shock as your gaze met his. "Did she now?", you asked, taking a step closer, head tilted to the side as your eyes focused on his as if you were trying to solve one of your strategic puzzles. "Yep. And you know what's the annoying part about that lady?”, now it's Rooster taking a step towards you, his finger slowly interlacing with yours and a smitten smile spreading on his lips. All he wants to do is lean down and kiss you and he had no fucking clue when it happened or why but Bradley Bradshaw cannot help but feel the pull towards you. "She has a tendency to be right about that kind of shit" Rooster wants to protect you. He wants to protect your heart if only you'd let him.
The closer he gets to your apartment complex the more fidgety you are. It gets so bad that he just takes your hand to give you something to hold onto but your eyes are darting around, searching for something or rather someone. He didn't want to push you to tell him things you didn't want to share, but he couldn't help but let his eyes roam too, wondering if he'd know who it was once he'd seen them. Pulling up right in front of the house he puts the Bronco in park, watching you as your eyes are darting around. "Hey, Nike", he tries to pull you back, gently squeezing your hand.
"Thank you for bringing me. I'll take it from here", you didn't want him to leave, the way you were still holding his hand said as much, but you were worried. You didn't see his car, but you were pretty sure he'd show his face sooner rather than later and you wanted Rooster as far away as humanly possible from that disaster zone... "I will not leave you alone while you are about to spiral into another anxiety attack", he's sliding a bit closer to you on the seats, hoping that his presence could bring you comfort the way it did last night. "I don't want you to get dragged into this Rooster. It's enough of a shit show as is..." "You do realise I am a naval aviator, right? I get paid to do risky as fuck shit at Mach 1.6 while a beautiful woman yells into my ears to stick to her plan", he's smiling at you, hoping to pull you back closer to him with the joke. "I doubt that there is anything that could happen I've never seen a worse version of" "You never met my father" "Who?" "My father...", you repeat, closing your eyes as you bite down on your lower lip to stave off the tears.
You knew it was stupid and childish. You worked in disaster management for a living and still, nothing ever terrified you as much as the thought of being in the same room as him. "When I moved here he got me my flat and whenever he's in the city he insists on having dinner..." "Your father?", Rooster repeated surprised, shocked even. He had fully expected that it was something like a psychotic ex but your dad? "Yeah, he... he's got an anger management problem and..." "Did he hurt you?" "No... I mean he's not the kind of guy to hit you, but he always yelled a lot, still does to this very day...", you heave a sigh, unsure how to put this into words without sounding like a pathetic, whiny brat while piling even more bullshit on Rooster than you already had. "He snaps his finger and it doesn't matter how you feel, you have to function. Whatever he demands, you have to do it that very second or he starts yelling at you. Privacy is a concept he does not know, at least when it comes to others. There is no good or ok in his vocabulary. It's either perfect or wrong and god forbid that you have a different opinion from him on any topic, no matter how big or small because he will remind you of his superiority, even if it means that he ignores every argument you have, no matter how valid and yells until you yield, if out of fear or exhaustion doesn't matter", you are turning to the side and staring out of the window of the Bronco in a weak attempt to hide your tears. "And because he knows everything better he revels in watching you fail. It doesn't matter if it's something tiny or monumental. He remembers every mistake you ever made, every character flaw, every weakness or what he perceives as such. One of his personal favourites is my time at university. Before I went into disaster management I had a different major and I changed after I handed in my bachelor's thesis and with only two semesters left to finish. He's always having a fucking field day telling me what a waste of time, money and energy I am..." You press your hand to your stomach, using the resistance to have something to focus on while you breathe to calm down your heart that threatens to break free from your ribcage. "For him, all it would have taken is to stop being such a pussy and man up. What he loves to ignore is when every time you stand on a balcony or you look out of a window or you walk over a bridge and you cannot help but look down and estimate if it's high enough... it's long past the time when you should have called it quits", your voice is quiet and you close your eyes once more attempting to hold your tears back.
"With all due disrespect. Your father is an asshole who knows jack shit about you or life for that matter" His eyes are glued to your reflection in the window and seeing the tears that stream down your face makes his heartache and the fury return to his veins. No one deserved such a treatment, least of all you. "Nike look at me", he leans forward and turns your face with his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. "You are one of the strongest people I know. Your entire career is rooted in your wish to fix things. You bring people home safe and sound and I doubt it gets much more hardcore than being with the US Navy" "I don't serve", your voice is small and choked up from the tears and it makes him livid. A part of him hopes your father will show his sorry ass because heaven knows he'd love to drill some things into that thick skull of his. "You have your own office, you got a callsign. Fuck if the Admiral knew you'd use it you'd have your own parking lot" "I am a contractor", he sees how the tears he just wiped away are replaced by new ones and there is a desperation bubbling up in his chest. He needed you to see that you were more than what your father made you believe you are and it feels like he's failing you right now.
"Nike. You are the woman who 6 years 8 months and 14 days ago on her first fucking day on base marched into a briefing and told Cyclone to his face in front of the entire base leadership that his idea was bullshit", your eyes widen in shock and your gaze finally meets his. You had been told whatever was spoken in that room would never leave it. "How do you know?" "Are you kidding me? You became a legend that day. I have that day marked on my calendar. Fuck everyone on base marked that on their calendar. It was your first day on the job and you grilled him in front of everyone and lived to tell the tale", your eyes are wandering over his face, not sure what he was aiming at. You had done your job, nothing more and nothing less and he acted like you had brokered world peace or something. "That's what he hired me for. To make sure that the missions are successful while minimising the risks for all personnel involved" "I doubt that he expected you to do it that blunt in front of everyone", there is a chuckle falling from his lips and mischief twinkles in his eyes.
You had worked for years on base by this point and never once did you think you overstepped. Simpson sure as hell never told you so but now that you heard Roosters perspective it dawned on you. You weren't military so the chain of command wasn't drilled into you from day one. You had always viewed the Admiral as an equal, someone you work with on eye level to fulfil the mission and keep the people safe. It had never once occurred to you that the difference in position was so stark... "Don't worry about it. If he wouldn't respect you for that move he would have stopped working with you that day. I mean if any of us were scared of driving he would tell us to fucking walk home and for you, he's taking a detour to play shuttle" "He does what?" He should have kept his mouth shut. Considering your reaction Simpson didn't want you to know that, but now that it was out there, he couldn't take it back. "He promised my apartment was on the way..." "More like a 50-minute detour" "Fuck... and all I do is bring him muffins..." "I'd drive cross country for those muffins, no questions asked. They are worth their weight in gold" "How would you know that?" "He called me into his office for a meeting and they were on a plate on the desk" "You didn't..." "Yep. I totally did. Also for the record. Totally worth the 300 push-ups" "300?!?!" "I ate two"
When you finally manage to unlock the door to your apartment Rooster is startled at how clinical and empty it looks. There are no pictures on the wall. It’s all stark white contrasting with the darker floors. Your kitchen looks pretty unused and if he were a betting man he'd say that all he'll find in that fridge are some frozen meals at best. There was a tiny bookshelf in a corner that held only specialized literature about crisis and disaster management and the small couch and TV combo was barely enough for one person let alone to welcome friends over. Then his eyes fall over to the stacked moving boxes in the bay and that’s when it hits him. This is not a home, it’s a place to sleep. A place where you do not feel safe. You are ready to run at any given time. You’ve lived here for almost 7 years and you still expected the other shoe to drop.
“Sorry about this. I just never saw the necessity to…”, you begin and when your eyes meet his the pain you see knocks the air from your lungs. “Nike...”, he begins, making his way over to you to put his hands on your cheeks, wanting to pull you flush against his chest and kiss you. To show you that you didn’t need to live in a state that was more vegetative than anything else. But then he sees the shift in your body, eyes wide with panic and shortly thereafter the door flies open. No knocking, nothing. And in the doorway stands a man, about 5ft8, early to mid-sixties, with grey hair and beard.
“You finally done with hiding like a bratty child?”, he yells, stopping in his tracks when his eyes land on a man he'd never seen before standing right next to you in the living room. “And who would you be?” Your father knew you. You didn’t have friends let alone a boyfriend and no protective hand on your waist or furious glare would convince him otherwise. In three decades you hadn't managed to get a grip on your life and he had long given up hope that you'd finally get your shit together. It's not like your university escapades had been embarrassing enough or the fact you wasted 6 months in a clinic because you lost control. Even now when you have a job, he's still the one who has to tell his co-workers that his daughter hasn't managed to convince a man to stay, let alone start a family. No, you were still single and lived in a flat your father had been forced to help you find because you couldn’t manage on your own. Again.
From the moment he lays eyes on him Rooster hates this man with everything that he is. In about a minute he had shown him more than enough and the mere thought you had lived your entire life like this. Always waiting for him to barge in and yell at you, never feeling safe anywhere, never really being home. How were you supposed to have a normal childhood if all you've ever known was fear? Fear of failing his expectations and fear of his anger. He couldn't even begin to imagine how fucking exhausting that had to be. “Lieutenant Bradshaw. United States Navy”, he moves his body in between you and your father, a movement of instinct more than anything else.
Your father is taken by surprise. He knows you work in crisis management and that you’ve been hired by the Navy but he expected you to do paperwork, write base evacuation plans or coordinate shipments. A glorified secretary with a master's degree.
The silence in the place grew and the weight on you was unbearable. You knew you had to manage this, to keep the fallout minimal but with Rooster here, you couldn’t fall back into the default protocol. He was a variable you never had to calculate with in a situation like this and that made the unease even worse.
“And who are you to just barge into someone’s place without even the most basic courtesy of knocking on the door?” Rooster knew who he was and your father knew that he knew. “I am the father of the woman who’s hiding behind you like she's fucking five”, the disapproval and almost disdain for you in his voice is cutting. Of course, he would use this as yet another chance to tell you how weak and pathetic you were. It would have been a day to mark in the calendar if it weren’t so.
“And that justifies just slamming the door open and marching in like a fucking SWAT team?” The fury burned hotter in his veins with every second spent in your father's presence, every word, every breath pulling up the memories from last night. The way he found you in front of the Hard Deck, how terrified you were. You cried so bad your make-up was a mess and your mind had shut off to a degree you couldn't remember what happened the next morning. And still, that bastard stands there like it's the most normal thing in the world. Like he has every right on planet earth to make you feel like that, to force you to relive your trauma again and again and again. Your hand grabbed Rooster’s wrist in an attempt to pull him back and out of the confrontation. This would end badly if he kept going and you didn’t want that for him. He had done so much for you already, he didn’t need to get roped into that bullshit too, but Rooster did not budge. Quite contrary he even made another step closer to your father.
“This is my place. I co-signed the lease. It's the only reason why she's even having a roof over her head” “How generous of you to hold what every halfway decent father would do for his child over her head as if she fucking owes you for that” Rooster never had a chance to spend much time with his dad and growing up he envied whoever got that privilege but right now he realised for some people growing up without your father was a kinder fate. Your father raised his brow. Almost like he didn’t understand how someone could have the audacity to talk to him like that. “My relationship with my daughter is none of your business” “It became my business the second you treated one of my friends like a piece of trash” “Friend?”, the laughter was harsh, “She doesn't have friends” “Maybe it should give you a fucking pause if your own daughter decides to keep things like that a secret”, he barks back, his patience running very thin right now.
Rooster's fists are itching. He wants the beat that sarcastic smirk off your father’s face right here right now, but your hand is still wrapped around his wrist and he knows you didn’t want that, no matter how satisfying it might feel in the moment. You were too fucking kind for your own good. “Here I thought you were a soldier, but you sound like a shrink" “You don’t need to have a degree in psychology to get that your idea of family is fucked up. Why else would you push your suicidal daughter to keep on doing the thing that made her suicidal in the first place?" “Bradley”, you can see it in your father’s eyes. So far, he's been civil for his standards, but he was close to snapping and you feared what he’d do if Rooster kept on provoking him. Your father had never been physically violent towards you but you always backed down. “You have no fucking idea what you are talking about” “I know more than fucking enough”
You hear a knocking and when your eyes wander from your father to the open door you cannot believe who you see. Your father turns around too, eyes wandering over the group of people standing there. “Sorry for being late to the party. We miss somethin'?”, Hangman asks, his usual cocky features darkened and brows furrowed. Right next to him was Phoenix and then on either side of them Javy and Bob "And who do you think you are?" "For you, we'll be the four horsemen of the apocalypse", the threat in Phoenix's voice is obvious if her face wasn't enough of a tell already.
You stared up at Rooster who had a smug smirk on his face and when he looked down at you his features softened. “I thought just in case a companion is not enough and we do need the army”, he winks at you and it makes you choke up. It’s not just him who came through for you. It’s all of them, the entire squad even though you never talked much outside of mission briefings and when you yelled at them to stick to the plan. Even if you’d been brave enough to ask for help you would have never expected them to show. Especially so early on a Saturday morning.
Your father is perplexed too. This is a first for him. People who stand up to him and don't just back down and relent the second he gets loud and nasty. It means he’s shoved on unknown terrain and like a lot of people with anger issues, he’s getting the most vile when he’s insecure. "So that's how far you've fallen. You don't even bother with trying these days. No, instead of fighting your own wars you are hiding like a coward behind the people you send in to fix the fuckups of your own creation." The words hit you, bringing back the images from the restaurant. Everybody had been staring at you, no wonder considering the noise he made.
'A coward is what you are. Always looking for the easy way out. Always running away instead of manning up and fighting head-on'
"She'd be stupid to ride into Mordor alone", your eyes shoot over to Phoenix, eyes wide and surprise written all over your features. You had no idea she heard you back then when she tried to catch up with Rooster. "You take a companion. You bring an army, but you never go alone", Bob adds and gives you a gentle smile that makes a fresh set of tears run down your cheeks. "And who says shit like that?" "Nike", Javy deadpans. "Nike?" "Yeah, Nike. Your daughter's callsign", Javy cannot hide the irritation in his voice. This was absurd. That man was supposed to be your father and he didn't even know that much about you? "Like the fucking shoe brand?!?!" "More like the greek goddess of victory", Bob chimed in, turning to you with a small smile while you were digging your finger into Rooster's arm to have something to hold on to. "Goddess of victory? Her? As fucking if" You see the way your father looks between them, unable to hide his confusion before he follows their eyes to you, standing right next to Rooster who wrapped an arm around you to pull you even closer into his side.
"She's the best IC North Island ever had", Hangman gave you that signature smirk and a wink. To hear those words from him of all people made your heart swell. "You might not be aware of it, but you have a treasure for a daughter and considering that you treat her like the dirt under your heel I would suggest you reevaluate your coping strategy, Sir", even while he is angry, Bob stays as perfectly polite as ever, pushing his glasses a little up his nose. "But you don't have to take the word of the people whose lives she's responsible for", Phoenix makes a theatrical gesture out of checking her watch before she looks back to your father, "He might get a bit grumpy if we annoy him on a Saturday morning, but I am sure that nevertheless, Admiral Simpson would have no qualms about confirming Nike's spotless mission record"
Rooster feels how you are holding on tighter to him and he can see the confusion shimmering in your eyes as you watch the scene in front of you unfold. He knows that you have no idea what you meant to the people on base, the people you worked with. What you meant to him, even before he found you last night and it's beautiful to witness how the realisation slowly settles in that you are cherished, that there are people who respect you, your achievements and your hard work. People who care.
"I'm gonna make this very simple for you now", Rooster's voice is low and has an animalistic ring to it as he stares down your father, knowing that at a moment's notice, the rest of the dagger squad would be right there by his side. "You will turn around and carry your sorry ass out of this apartment. If I or any of my friends see you near Nike again, you will regret it. If you contact her in any shape or form, you will wish you'd never been born", his voice was cutting and calm, a storm raging right beneath his skin, almost hoping for him to talk back so he could finally give him the beating he deserved. "Are you threatening..." "No, we are not. We never would...", Phoenix has a sardonic smile playing on her lips as she walks around your father and positions herself to Rooster's left. "We are making a promise. Not that a man like you would know the difference", she's cocking her head a little and for the first time in your entire life, you see something like fear flittering over your father's features.
Coyote and Hangman step to the side to clear the way for him and you can see that he's livid, biting down on his lower lip so hard you wonder if he'd draw blood, but he stays quiet as he turns around and walks towards the door only to be stopped by Hangman's hand on his shoulder. "And remember. Even if we should be deployed there are thousands more where we came from who will step up gladly to put you in your place", he gives your father one of those blinding smiles that makes the women swoon but something is hiding in his eyes. A promise that if your father would do as much as breathe funny, he would gladly show him what skills you acquired in the Navy. And with that, your father leaves, not even muttering an insult under his breath the way he usually does as he steps out of the apartment.
The moment he rounds the corner you feel Rooster's arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. "We are all here for you. I am here for you. You are safe, beautiful"
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Tuesday
I’m a sucker for protective Harry and exes to lovers sort of vibes.
Harry forgot that after they broke up he started sleeping on the side she did...for a while it smelled like her and as good as the break up was, he missed her and longed for her. Sleeping on her side made him feel closer to her. After a while, he forgot it wasn’t where he usually slept.
She was sitting in the coffee shop looking at her phone. Scrolling through the contacts was making her more anxious. It wasn’t super late—only nine. But it was dark out in the dead of winter and on Tuesday no less. She had class in the morning, and she didn’t want to bother anyone because she knew they had classes in the morning too.
When she closed this evening, she got a weird vibe from the guy hovering in the corner of the shop who kept asking her when she got off her shift and if she wanted to hang out afterwards. At the time she wasn’t alone, but she assured her coworker she would be fine—and was now regretting it. Something in the pit of her stomach was making her nervous. She didn’t want to go outside to her car, but it seemed a little dramatic.
So, she was scrolling through her (admittedly, not so very many) contacts deciding mentally if anyone was close enough that she was willing to bother. She was scrolling her way back to the top after her initial run through getting increasingly nervous as she crept back toward the A’s. If she made it back to the top, she wasn’t sure what she’d do at that point.
But it was the H’s that caught her attention.
“Fuck,” she whispered to literally no one but herself. Putting her hand on her forehead, she sighed. She didn’t want to call him. It had been two years since she last spoke to him. The chances of him even inhabiting the same apartment, a mere five-minute drive away, let alone the same town after he graduated and got a real job were slim to none. Plus, the idea he would answer her phone call at nine on a Tuesday night seemed downright laughable.
Honestly though, he was her only hope.
Biting her lip, she clicked on his name. It almost felt foreign. But something deep within her found it felt so familiar it was impossible to not feel at ease just listening to the sound of the phone ringing knowing he would be at the other end (if he would answer).
“Hello?” He asked. His voice sounded confused. She wasn’t surprised at his tone. It was insane for her to call him.
“Harry,” she said simply.
“Uh...hi, love,” it sounded loud wherever he was. She should have known Harry would be with people and living his life.
“Hi,” she said softly.
It was quiet for a moment other than the sound of whatever Harry was doing in the background. She thought about the last time they spoke. It had to have been right about when things ended. It wasn’t a bad breakup, but they didn’t really stay in touch. She saw pictures and updates on social media but Harry wasn’t all that active. She had no way of knowing a whole lot about his personal life—if he was seeing anyone...or anything like that.
“Love?” He said and the noise seemed to fade in the background of his concerned voice. “Y’okay?” He asked.
“Um...” she shook her head trying to remain focused and remember why she called her ex-boyfriend. “Er...yeah. M’fine...it’s just...” she sighed. “M’sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I’m just...I’m at work and...well I’m trying to leave but there was this guy and I got a weird feeling. But it’s stupid...and I just...there’s no one I know nearby, and I thought if you were still at your place close by then...” she shook her head hearing how ridiculous this all sounded. Bothering Harry on a Tuesday night for something that might not even happen. Her heart was fluttering. This was ridiculous. “Harry, I’m so sorry. This was a stupid phone call. There’s nothing wrong. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll be fine,” she said firmly gathering her belongings in her arms and steeling herself for the cold walk outside to her car.
“Oh...hey...” he frowned as he held the phone to his ear. “S’alright love. You’re not a bother,” he promised. “Are...are you inside still?” He asked. She could hear a flurry of movement on his end. There was a rustling of keys, and a few calls in the distance were yelled but she couldn’t make out the words.
“Yeah...but really, it’s fine. It’s late and I’m being ridiculous. I’m just going to—”
“M’still nearby,” he said quickly interrupting her. “Jus’...wait five minutes. I’ll be right there.”
For a moment she stilled and silenced her rationale and the convoluted reasoning in her head. “Really?” She asked, feeling relief course through her body. She didn’t even realize how stressed she was about the situation. The brave front for Harry slowly seemed to dissipate. There was no way she could know that Harry also recognized the worry in her voice.
“’Course, love,” he said easily. They were both quiet for a moment and she could hear the jingling of Harry’s keys, the unlocking of his car. “D’you want me t’stay on the phone with you?” He wondered.
She nodded, feeling comforted by Harry just breathing. Someone was coming to her rescue, even if she was being ridiculous. She didn’t even realize she nodded. But Harry didn’t get off the phone despite not knowing her answer. It was weird to be so content with Harry silently coming to her. With her eyes closed, she could almost picture Harry’s route. Hearing his blinker, the sound of the road...it was almost too much for her. Him just coming to her without so much as a real reason—just a feeling—was heartwarming. It made her miss him all over again.
When they dated, Harry was nothing less than perfect. He did everything with the utmost respect and chivalry. He was an amazing boyfriend and she adored him more than any other boyfriend she ever had. It broke her heart when they ended their relationship, truly. She reminded herself it wasn’t a bad break up. It was mature. They grew apart and Harry graduated, and things were ending. But she was still in school. Granted, now she was on the last of her classes and graduating the coming spring. Harry was out in the real world these last two years being perfect for whoever he worked for and for whoever he was dating.
“Hey love?” He asked gently. Her thoughts pulled back to the present. “M’parking right now. M’gonna come to the front, yeah? I’ll knock, okay?”
She nodded again, making her way from the back of the shop toward the front door. She could see Harry, phone pressed to his ear, looking just as she remembered him. Tall, lanky, and handsome as could be. Always. If she wasn’t so nervous, she would have ogled him for longer. She unlocked the door and let Harry in. “Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi,” he replied. “You alright, love?” He asked.
She nodded. “Yeah,” she didn’t sound alright, though.
He glanced out the doorway and his brow creased in the middle. He looked highly annoyed. “M’glad you called,” he said quietly.
“Thank you,” her voice was so small and quiet. She looked nervously through the front window seeing Harry’s car closest to the shop. “Would you mind walking me to my car?”
He nodded. “Course, love,” he promised easily.
“You really didn’t have to come,” she said. It was a phrase that sounded like she should be annoyed—even though she was the one that asked him here, in so many words. But Harry knew her. He knew she wasn’t annoyed. He knew she was scared and didn’t want to be a bother. She was annoyed that she bothered him, if anything.
He shook his head. “Nonsense, love. Don’t mind at all,” he kept glancing out the window then he turned his attention back to her. “M’gonna...” he rolled his lips into his mouth and then sighed. “Kitten, m’gonna hold you, alright?” He said softly. She glanced out the window again, trying to see around Harry, but he stepped in her view. It wasn’t good. He must have been out there. A shiver ran up her back and she let out a small, nervous noise that came from deep in her soul. “Don’t worry,” he shook his head quickly and kept her from seeing. He took her bag off her shoulder and put it on his own. She had her keys in her hand and she swallowed. “M’here,” he promised. “M’not going anywhere.”
*
Harry wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing his side fully to hers as they walked toward his car parked right next to hers. They were silent except for Harry quietly whispering directions toward her. “Are you alright t’drive?” She nodded silently. Harry opened her driver’s door. He waited for her to sit, and he physically blocked her view outside the door. “Are y’sure y’can drive?” She nodded. “Are y’still at the same place?” She nodded again.
Harry reached past her to settle her bag on her passenger seat.
“Love?” He questioned again. He was hesitant to ask his next question but the way she looked so nervous and scared had him reeling.
It also didn’t help there was a creep a mere 30 meters away from them waiting for her like she was bait. She turned to look at him, her breath shaky, her hands kept shaking too as they reached for her steering wheel.
“Y-yeah?”
“I want you t’come t’my place, yeah?”
She felt scared so she just nodded. “Okay.”
“Kitten, m’not gonna let anything happen t’you, okay? I promise.”
“Okay,” she nodded again but it felt a lot more right this time.
Pressing the lock button on her door, he gave her arm a gentle squeeze as she turned her car on. “M’gonna follow you so wait until m’in the car,” he said softly. She nodded once more.
*
Harry was fuming about all of it. Seeing her name pop up on his phone made him confused and worried. But nothing prepared him for the feeling of helplessness and worry he actually felt when he went to the coffee shop and saw her car and a one other car waiting for her to exit work. He hadn’t spoken to her in two years, but he didn’t want to think about what he would do if he found out something terrible happened to her. As he started his car looking toward her waiting to go Harry waved to her to indicate he was good to go.
Harry would murder him if he followed them.
Harry spoke to his phone. “Call Niall.”
The phone rang twice before he answered. “Harry, where did y’go?” Niall asked curiously.
“Everyone needs to leave,” Harry said.
“Harry, what are—”
“I don’t care what y’tell them, everyone needs t’be gone in the next three minutes.”
“Harry—”
“Niall! Jus’ get them out!”
“Okay, okay,” Niall said with a tone of defensiveness in his voice. “I’ll get them out.”
“Thank you, I’ll explain when I get there.”
Harry glanced in his rearview mirror and didn’t see anyone following him. But now Harry was paranoid, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He called her again. “Hello?” She asked tentatively.
“Hey love. When y’park, I don’t want y’to get out. I’ll come around t’you, okay?”
“Okay,” she said softly. “Harry?” She whispered.
“Yeah, love?”
“Thank you,” the gratefulness was so thick on her voice Harry could have cried. What if he didn’t see her call? Or what if he decided not to answer? He was worried about things that weren’t but the idea of something happening to her made him feel sick.
“M’really glad you called,” he promised.
She didn’t say anything again. He felt so bad she was so nervous and worked up. She wasn’t one to need saving. She usually did most of the saving her friend group. She was the one with an extra hair tie or a stain stick at restaurants. She never let anyone be hungry or thirsty. If someone didn’t have medicine handy, they could ask her. She was the one that did the saving. She wasn’t the one that needed it. Rarely did she ever ask for help. Asking Harry was not only huge for her, but it meant she really needed it.
When she started downplaying how nervous she was on the phone, Harry thought how terrifying it was that she never needed anyone. Especially for a situation like this. He thought for two seconds what would have happened if her instincts were right, if Harry did ignore her worries, or if she convinced him that she was alright.
Harry quickly brushed those thoughts aside. “Do y’want me t’stay on the phone?” He asked her this earlier. Just like before there was no answer, but he knew she nodded. So, he stayed quietly on the phone listening to her breathing, the sound of her directional, and the road.
There were several cars passing as they pulled up toward Harry and Niall’s place. Harry was grateful Niall got everyone out. “Okay, love, stay put,” he said hanging up as he hurried out of his parked car to her driver’s seat.
Niall was standing on the front stoop waiting to see what Harry was so worked up about. When Harry opened the driver’s door and ushered her out Niall finally understood. “Must have skipped my last eye appointment, is that you princess?” Niall said cheerfully and hurried to give her a hug. It was a bit awkward though because Harry wouldn’t release one of her hands.
“D’you need anything else?” He asked ignoring Niall’s greeting.
“Uh...there’s a bag in my trunk,” she said softly. “I can get it in a minute—” Harry finally released her hand and headed back for her car.
“What brings you here this evening?” Niall asked.
“Oh...uh...” she swallowed. “It was nothing really,” she said shyly. Niall glanced at Harry’s embittered expression. He could see it halfway across their yard while she looked at the ground before looking back at Niall. “I actually think I overreacted and I didn’t know who else to call—”
“She did not overreact,” Harry said simply closing her car up and then coming to her to put a hand on her lower back. He ushered her toward the door. “She’s gonna stay tonight,” Harry told Niall.
Niall blinked then raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What about—”
“No,” he said simply, shaking his head and pushing her more toward the front.
“Harry, that’s not necessary...I think I can—”
“No,” he repeated.
There wasn’t room to argue.
*
She said goodnight to Niall and Harry continued ushering her into his room. It was the same as before except he moved the bed to the middle of the wall and changed the position of the dresser and the desk in his room. “D’you have clothes or d’you need clothes?”
“I don’t have uh...clothes to wear to bed—”
“Here,” he said quickly and opened the drawer. “Think y’left these here,” he said handing her a pair of leggings that she had lost years ago. It made her feel confused that he kept them folded neatly in a drawer readily available. She wondered if he let other women wear them. She honestly didn’t care. She was glad they were getting some use.
Harry assumed she was questioning the fact he kept her leggings in a drawer folded neatly. He offered them to a girl staying over every now and again. Gem even wore them on occasion. Harry didn’t need to read her mind, to know she was probably happy to help some stranger when they were over and needed something comfy to sleep in. “And y’can wear this,” he said and tossed her a long sleeve shirt that had a logo on it she hadn’t seen before.
“What’s this?” She asked curiously looking at the logo. It wasn’t really the time, but she was potentially in shock and Harry wasn’t going to let that happen, so he just answered her.
“The company I work for,” he shrugged and pulled his shirt over her head.
She dated Harry for two years, so she was used to seeing Harry naked. But not seeing him for two years and for him to casually pull his shirt over his head...well, she missed seeing him. “You got new tattoos,” she said suddenly.
Harry smirked for the first time all night and he paused with his arms in his shirt, but he held off on tugging the shirt over his head. “Uh...jus’ a few,” he said quietly. “One for m’godson, another one for Gem, one ‘cause I drank a little too much one night,” he said shyly.
Harry looked at her gentle smile and thought he would melt. She was all stressed and worked up and so was Harry, but she was beautiful. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. If Harry wasn’t so nervous about her safety, he would have reveled a bit longer in how much he missed her voice and suddenly hearing it woke some part of him that he thought was long gone. The part of him that was hers.
Harry opened the door again. “Hey Ni,” he called. “You still do her skincare routine?”
She let out a huffed little laugh thinking about the night she showed Niall and Harry all the steps to having a clean face before bed making sure to prevent wrinkles and damage to the only skin they had. Harry thought it was too many steps, but Niall was smitten with the routine and asked her no less than fifty questions about what he needed to do to have baby soft skin. Harry was grateful now that it was going to pay in tenfold, because he could make her feel at home and have Niall comfort her for a few moments while he fixed up his room. “Yeah! Princess, you want to share?” He called.
Harry looked at her and then opened the door wider. “All yours,” he said softly.
She took the borrowed clothes and nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered again.
Harry watched her walk to the shared bathroom and Niall followed in behind her to show where he kept everything, but he caught Harry’s eye as he entered quirking one eyebrow at him. Harry shook his head and left the pair to their spa treatment.
Harry’s phone vibrated as he propped up the pillows and got a few more blankets for the sweet girl from his closet. For someone that always ran much too hot, she always wanted more blankets to sleep in at night. He was planning on offering to sleep on the floor or the couch, but he knew she would deny it immediately and probably offer to do it herself. Of course, Harry wasn’t about to let that happen so they would have to settle for sharing. He glanced at the name on his phone and sighed.
Do you want me to come over? Harry felt guilty but he shouldn’t have. It was an arrangement they had agreed upon, and they both knew it.
Not tonight.
Oh. Okay.
Sorry.
No, it’s fine. Just surprised. Everything alright?
Yeah.
Okay.
Harry stopped answering. She deserved more...and if Harry had a little bit better self-esteem maybe he would realize he deserved more too.
There was a knock outside his room. “Y’don’t need t’knock, kitten,” he said with an eye roll as he pulled the covers back for the two of them. Harry heard his door click shut.
“Well...it’s sort of ridiculous that I’m even here, and I feel bad intruding and making you even—”
“Love,” he said turning toward her. She was in his shirt and her leggings now. She settled the clothes she was wearing with her stuff, and she looked toward Harry with so much trust in her eyes Harry wanted to cry. He was so thankful she called him. So thankful she trusted her gut and glad he could help her. “I am so glad y’called me,” he said softly. “You’re not intruding or anything,” he promised. “M’glad you’re here.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you,” she repeated again.
Harry gestured to the bed. “I was gonna offer t’sleep on the floor or the couch—”
“Absolutely not.”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “—But I already knew y’wouldn’t care for that, and I won’t let y’do that either so...” he said and gestured to the bed again.
She couldn’t argue with him so she grabbed her bag and pulled it toward the side of the bed she was used to sleeping on. However, Harry forgot that after they broke up he started sleeping on the side she did...for a while it smelled like her and as good as the break up was, he missed her and longed for her. Sleeping on her side made him feel closer to her. After a while, he forgot it wasn’t where he usually slept. But for tonight, he would have to go back to his side. Harry settled into his bed, pulling the blankets up over him as he scrolled on his phone. It was eerie how comfortable they could get into a routine that was very much the same as the one they used to have.
“Do you mind if I just...finish my essay really quick?” She asked softly.
“Take your time, love,” he nodded easily. “How is school?” He inquired.
She nodded. Harry watched her as she pulled her laptop from her bag and opened it. “It’s good. I’m almost done...I have an internship a couple days a week and they’ve offered me a job when I officially graduate.”
“Kitten, that’s awesome,” he smiled. “Congratulations,” it was so heartfelt it made her stomach flutter.
“How is this place?” She asked, pointing to the logo on her shirt. “Have you been there this whole time?”
“Yeah, I have. It’s a great place. I like it. It’s quiet. I get t’keep t’myself mostly. M’told I’m better than the last guy they had,” Harry chuckled.
She smiled and nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
Harry felt his face warm. “What are you working on now?” He wondered.
“It’s for my history of psychology class,” she said. Harry was always dumbfounded she wanted to be a psychologist but rarely looked at how her own behavior was maddening every now and again. Like tonight when she was willingly about to put her life in danger for some creep because she didn’t want to bother Harry. “Just relating different philosophies to a disorder over time and how the founders of these philosophies would have approached it.”
“Cool,” Harry smiled. “Do you like it still?”
“Very much,” she nodded. “Except,” she sighed. “This keeps happening,” she showed him her computer. “I’m sorry,” she said. She hated asking Harry about tech. It never bothered him. He was happy to help her, and he gave her tips to better the lifespan of her devices. She knew he would probably still look at it for her, even after all these years.
He tilted his head and sat up more and looked at the blue crash screen analyzing the codes it presented. “Hold on,” he mumbled turning into his IT self and googling the code from his phone. “How often does it do this?”
“Err...like once a day.”
“Kitten,” he admonished. She knew better than that after all of his tips and tricks. “May I?” He asked. She handed it to him.
“I can’t really afford a new laptop right now. My dad said he would get me one when I graduated in a month,” she shrugged.
“How is your family?” He asked while he fiddled with her computer.
“Good,” she nodded. “How’s yours?”
“They’re good. Gemma visits frequently,” he smirked.
“That’s nice, tell her I said hello.”
He was busy clicking through her screens and checking settings on her computers that she didn’t know existed. “Y’should really clean this,” he murmured.
“Er...m’not sure how...you always did it for me,” she reminded him.
He chuckled. “Fair enough, I can do it in the morning if y’have time.”
“I have class at eight,” she told him.
He shrugged. “S’okay...m’usually up at five.”
“Five?” She asked in surprise. “Harry, it’s so late, you should be asleep,” she said with concern in her voice.
He shrugged. “S’okay. Niall and I usually have movie night with friends on Tuesdays,” he said. “S’pretty early t’be in bed right now, on a regular Tuesday night, for me.”
“I interrupted movie night?” She asked quietly.
“That’s what y’took from that?” He smirked.
She was silent for a few moments. “He was out there, wasn’t he? Waiting for me?” She whispered.
Harry didn’t want to answer her question. “Yes.” She nodded and swallowed around a lump in her throat. Biting the inside of her cheek she looked at her hands while Harry took his gaze from her computer to look back at her. “Kitten,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”
“What if you couldn’t have—”
“Love, don’t. I was there. S’okay,” he promised.
“But you might not have been able to...and you shouldn’t have—”
“Baby,” he said softly and put her laptop on the floor beside him. He turned to face her, and he reached for her cheek. He rubbed his thumb over her soft skin. He could feel her melting into the touch and it reminded him of every time he ever touched her and how much he missed that. They were so different now. Older, wiser. Harry still adored her so very much, seeing her name was the first time he thought of her in months and months. Hearing her voice was like hearing a song he forgot about, and it sounded like hearing it for the first time and it sounded so much like angels he was wondering if tripped down the steps of his house and died. Touching her, even if he felt she was in danger, was like magic. It changed something in him. It was familiar and new and all at once. Holding her was warmth and light, something he had forgotten about until that moment. Even in a situation he didn’t want to be in. “I would do anything for you.”
“Still?” She asked with a snort before she could stop it.
Harry rolled his eyes. He brushed his thumb over her cheek again; he would do it all night rather than sleep and then work a full week. If this was the last time he saw her, touched her, smelled her, he would do it for just another minute. “If y’need me, love...that’s...a big deal. Yeah...I would do anything for you.”
“We’re not even together,” she whispered. “Actually...I think you have a girlfriend.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he shook his head.
“You’re seeing someone?”
He sighed. “Kitten, I don’t care about anyone but you, right now.”
“I can’t in good conscience—”
“Love, m’not seeing anyone. That’s it,” he said with a touch of frustration in his voice. She was quiet another moment.
“Harry?” She whispered.
“What, kitten?”
“I think I’m going to cry.”
“Oh, love,” he cooed and pulled her toward him. She started to cry and Harry held her against his chest and while he hated the way her tears soaked his shirt, he was so glad he was there to comfort her.
*
She was anxiously walking into the coffee shop the next day. She knew the chances of him being there again after he was clearly rejected were slim. It didn’t quell her nerves though, as she walked into the shop.
As she settled her things in the back and came to the front to clock in on the register and begin taking orders, she finally noticed the curly brunet locks cozied up in the corner of the shop in an armchair with a book in hand and computer bag at his feet. She blinked. Doing a double take between the customer waiting to place his order and Harry, sitting quietly in the corner, focused on his book and unaware it seemed that she was at work.
As she made the drink requested, she looked at Harry and then her coworker. “Did you see Harry come in?” She asked.
She glanced over at the corner. “Yes.”
There was no more discussion.
*
At the end of her shift, she went over to Harry in the corner halfway through his book. “Why are you here?”
“I told you I’d do anything for you, love,” he said gently, earmarking his page and closing the book. “Ready t’go?”
She bit her lip and nodded. He stood up, gathering his things and headed for the door.
*
When Harry came to her shifts over the next week, she thought that this was over the top. He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer any explanation, he was just there. When they left he tucked her neatly into her car and followed her home before she entered her apartment and waved goodbye from the front entrance.
On Sunday, she anticipated seeing Harry in the corner at some point in her morning shift, but instead she was slightly disappointed by not seeing him. She got used to seeing him and more than that wanted to see him.
So when she got into her car and locked her doors before she pulled her phone out.
“’Lo?”
“Are you mad at me?” She asked.
“Kitten?” He responded. It sounded like he was suddenly awake out of nowhere.
“You didn’t come to—”
“Are y’alright? Did he come back?”
“No!” She shook her head as she answered hurriedly. “I’m fine...I just...”
“Love, m’sorry. I...I had something t’do this morning, I figured—”
All at once she felt like the biggest idiot in the world. “Oh my God,” she whispered and covered her eyes. Thank God she didn’t video chat Harry. Thank God she was alone in her car and no one could see the bright red cheeks she was sporting. “Oh my God. Harry. I’m so sorry. I...oh my God,” she shook her head.
Hearing her worried tone, Harry hurried away from his morning plans. “Angel, are you okay?” He repeated. “I can come be there in ten minutes, love. M’worried that—"
“No, m’fine. Really. Please this is mortifying. You're very obviously with someone...and...I’m fine,” she told him. “I feel like—”
"Love, m'not with anyone. Haven't been since we started talking again. Kitten, I want t’see y’too,” he promised. “I’ll be home in ‘bout an hour. Does that work for you?” She nodded, feeling ridiculous as ever. Harry couldn’t see her nodding. But he knew she was. “An hour,” he promised. “I’ll see you then, love.”
*
She felt stupid once more as she pulled up to Harry’s place and noted Niall’s car wasn’t there, fortunately. At the very least her humiliation would remain just between herself and Harry. Harry met her in the yard almost as soon as he saw her pull up. “I was worried y’were lying,” he admitted and stuffed his hands in his pockets looking at her as she walked toward him.
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she promised crossing her arms in front of her.
“Good,” he smiled gently. “Then...is everything alright?”
“I missed you,” she whispered quietly.
“Yeah?” He murmured.
“Yeah,” she nodded not making eye contact.
Harry tilted her chin up and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lip. “I missed you more,” he said so cutely she could have turned into a puddle of love and mush on his front yard.
“Yeah?” She asked.
“Yeah,” he nodded and smiled at her. It was so adorable, so utterly Harry, and made her want to throw herself at him and never let him go.
So she did.
#harry#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles blurb#harry styles blurbs#harry styles angst#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#hs#hs fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles concept#ex!harry#harry styles one shot#one direction#one direction writing#tuesday
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Bones Full of Words, ch 3
Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude
Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.
He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not), canon typical violence* Mentions of Helena's assault and recovery, snooping, assumptions, jumping to conclusions, mention of death, drunken silliness, secrets. Summary: In the aftermath of Helena's attack, you and Javier do your best to take care of her. But it leads to butting heads, accusations, and an uncomfortable revelation from your mutual friends. Notes: Thank you all so much for your wonderful response to this story so far! I'm glad to hear people are enjoying it!
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2
Whatever Javier had to do at the embassy, it's none of your business. Helena sleeps while he takes care of it, she sleeps while you're at your apartment packing a bag, and she's just waking up when you return to the apartment to the sight of Javier Peña shoving his gun in the back of his pants.
Stake out, he explains gruffly, and then tells you to order some food for dinner after pointing to the drawer in his kitchen that holds extra cash and a few take out menus from local restaurants.
Helena had slept through his own watch over her. Letting Javi sit and shed a few, swiped away tear in peace. Quietly asking her for forgiveness that he did not deserve. He shouldn’t have pushed her for information, shouldn’t have asked her to risk everything for him. Not when he could give her nothing in return. He was still being denied a visa, leaving her abandoned here as a casualty of this vicious war.
"She'll be okay." You wouldn't condescend to say we and include yourself in the thought, knowing that Peña doesn't give a shit about you or even really know you from a whole in the wall. You're here to take care of Helena and that's rightfully what he cares about. "Go do whatever you have to do."
Your tone is one that rubs him the wrong way. It’s judgmental, grating. As if you know his part in Helena’s tragedy and view him as no better than the men who had abused her. “Thank you for your permission.” He grouses, frowning as he strides out of the kitchen. “I didn’t realize I was fucking married.”
"Asshole." Grumbling at his back as he heads for the door, you huff and shake your head before turning back to the guest room where Helena is staying. He probably heard you. You might even hope he did. But it doesn't matter, you're not here to make a new best friend. You're just caring for one under his roof.
When you see Helena is finally awake again, you smile from the bedroom door. "Hey sleepyhead." A soft, gentle teasing. Helena usually likes it when you joke with her. "Can I get you anything? Another pillow? A glass of water?"
“I— I don’t know.” She admits quietly. She’s been given good painkillers at Javier’s insistence, but they have been leaving her groggy. “How long was I asleep?”
"Most of the day." But you smile and lean against the doorframe, glad to see her slightly less out of it this time. "I'll get us some water and I'll come and sit with you. How does that sound?"
“You should go home.” She frowns slightly and winces because it pulls at the cuts. “I know you are busy.”
"I'm not too busy for you." That, at least, is the absolute truth. "Sorry, beautiful. But you're stuck with me for at least a few days." Blowing her a kiss from the doorway, you knock softly on the dark wood and step back. "Water. I'll be right back."
Left by herself, Helena closes her eyes again. Unsure of why she thought she had heard Javi’s voice when he’s not here. Wondering if you’ve discovered the secret that she’s kept from you.
Within a minute you're back again, carrying two bar glasses of cold water and settling yourself in the chair beside her bed before handing one over. "Are you relatively comfortable?" You ask, ready to pop up and fix anything she needs.
“I’m fine.” It’s a lie, but she isn’t going to run you ragged because of what happened to her. She takes the water and gratefully sips, feeling like her mouth is dry and her throat rough.
“With all the love in my heart, I don’t believe you.” You shoot your friend a grin and stand up again. “Pillows? Blankets? I can open the windows if you want some fresh air.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “Open the window.” She gives in after a moment. “But there is nothing you can do for me, really.”
“I can sit and keep you company.” There is no possibility that you’ll ask her what happened. Her discharge paperwork from the hospital told you everything you need to know and more, and you will not make her talk about that. Not ever. If she chooses to open up about it that is up to her. In the meantime, the least you can do is open a window, so you pop out of your chair to do that. “Javier had some work to take care of so it’s just you and me for a while.”
She sighs softly and looks over at the window as you open the curtains before throwing it wide to let the fresh air in.
“There we go.” The smile you offer her is as soft as it can be, and you wipe your hands as if it was a job well done. “Much less stuffy.”
She doesn’t say anything, just nods and drinks down the rest of the water. Finishing the glass quickly and setting it down.
“Would you…” Shifting slightly, you look over at her again and bite back any kind of tone whatsoever that could upset your friend or make her think you’re judging her in the least. That couldn’t be further from the truth. “Prefer if I left you alone?”
“I don’t know.” She admits softly. “I feel…numb.”
"That sounds...pretty fair, honestly." Though you nod vaguely, you pick up her empty water glass from the nightstand and hold it up like a salute. "I'm going to grab you some more water and we can just sit if you want to. No need to talk or anything. Just...be. Or if you want to be distracted, we can do that, too. Even if it only helps for a few seconds, that's better than nothing."
"I think I want to sleep again." Helena admits, feeling a little ashamed of that. It’s blissful in that deep sleep from the painkillers. No thoughts or dreams.
“Then you should get some sleep.” You nod again, more purposefully this time, and pick up your glass along with hers. “I’ll leave you a fresh glass by the bed, and I’ll go read my book in the living room. Nice quiet apartment, no surprises or anything. Just enjoy your rest.”
"Thank you." Her thanks is whispered, her eyes already closing as she slips back into sleep. She's exhausted and feeling like no matter how long she sleeps, it will never be enough. Not after what she's been through.
Water for the two of you. That happens first. And then you half close the door to the guest room that Helena is in and take your book out to the sunken living room. You guess you’ll just…sit and read until you get hungry or until Helena needs something. Or maybe it’s the perfect time to work on your column since you have the quiet of the apartment to work in.
******
“So you have the girl and someone else in your apartment?” Steve asks, looking over at Javier still wearing his sunglasses despite the sun going down. “Yeah.” He grunts, shrugging slightly and trying to shove down the annoyance at the simple question. “American too. Don’t know why the fuck she’s involved.” He had questions, but he wasn’t going to ask Helena them right now.
“There’s a complete stranger in your apartment taking care of your injured informant and you don’t even know why she’s there?” Steve’s leans back in the driver’s seat of the car as they stake out some nightclub supposedly being used as a stop point for money and supplies by some of the sicarios in the area. Tonight is Surveillance before they get into the thick of it. “Very thorough, Jav.”
“It’s not like she’s a fucking spy for Pablo.” Although, now he’s frowning because he hadn’t had time to clear away the tapes he had gotten. They are still sitting out on the coffee table.
“That you know of.” Murphy snarked, smirk curling the corner of his mouth. He had already called in a background check on you to the embassy when Javi got out of the car to take a leak, but the chance to fuck with his partner was never a thing Steve Murphy could or would give up.
His jaw tightens, his glare deepening slightly as he stares at the door to the club. “Pay attention.” He huffs. “And fucking practice your goddamn Spanish.”
“Cranky.” He chuckles, pleased with himself as he sips from his coffee cup.
Huffing, Javi doesn’t dignify Steve with an answer. Instead he leans forward when someone approaches the door. “Who the fuck is that?”
“6’1”, about…thick build…American clothing…” Steve reaches for the binoculars as quickly as possible and grunts. “CIA,” he grumbles. “I’ve seen that guy around the embassy.”
“The fuck is this fucker doing here?” Javi hisses, leaning forward and instantly not liking this fucker. Something about him rubs Javi the wrong way.
“Looks like he’s chatting with the bartender.” Steve reports, thanks to the large picture windows of the club.
Javi frowns, leaning back. “How the fuck does the CIA have a beat on this place?”
"Beats the shit out of me," the other man admits. "I'm surprised he knows which way his asshole points."
That is enough to give a small snort of amusement, motioning for Steve to take a photo. “The spooks hate when you get them.” He tells Steve.
"Fuck 'em." Steve snorts, aiming his camera and taking three shots just for good measure.
“That’s the spirit.” Javi leans back and watches the conversation carefully, wishing he could know what is being said.
"They're pal-y, but I wouldn't say she likes him too much," Steve observes after a few more minutes. "Her body language is real skeptical."
“I would be too.” He huffs and taps his phone on his thigh. He could make a call, make things difficult for the agent, but he would rather see what happens.
"She just pulled out an envelope from under the bar." Steve still has the binoculars pressed to his eyes and chews his lip for a moment. "Handed it to him. He looked excited for a second, but his face just dropped."
“Wonder what’s in the envelope.” Javi narrows his eyes as if he could see what was written on the paper he opened.
"Bad news whatever it is." The other man says, based on the way the CIA agent inside is now gesticulating exaggeratedly at the bartender.
“We could pay a kid to pick pocket him.” Javi suggests, glancing over at Steve.
Murphy smirks, eagerly sitting up in his seat. "What's the price of a pickpocket these days?"
“For you or for me?” Javi snorts as he eyes a group of almost teenagers grouped near a bodega a few doors down. “Stay here.” He tells his partner as he opens the door.
It's a fair point, but Steve still frowns reflexively as he watches his partner approach the group of kids. They chat for barely more than a minute, Javi shakes hands with one of them, and then he walks back to the car with a swagger in his stride.
Javi smirks as he climbs back onto the car. “Cost me ten bucks and he gets to keep whatever cash is in the fucker’s wallet.” He tells Steve.
Murphy's laugh is deep and true, an honest rumbling chuckle at the expense of the agent currently standing in the bar. "Nice touch."
“You get in your licks where you can.” The CIA has been a thorn in his side, obviously playing both sides and being so goddamn smug about it. Not caring about the lives being ruined by their involvement.
"Anytime we can kick a spook, I'm in." Murphy agrees, picking up his binoculars again.
The kid is good, Javi has to admit that. He doesn’t just enter the club and immediately make his way to the gringo. He scopes him out, obviously not his first time pick-pocketing someone. Javi chuckles to himself as he watches him circle around the bar.
It takes nearly ten minutes before the kid makes his way back outside. His hands are empty, of course, when he appears. Nonchalantly walking through the alley, he pulls the wallet from his pocket, slips the cash out, and tosses it down in the middle of the street directly beside Javi's car door as he continues on his way through the alley. The envelope protrudes from the top of the wallet, ready and waiting to be read.
Javi grunts, getting back out of the car and looking around before he leans down and scoops the envelope out of the wallet and leaves it there. Making sure he touches nothing else. He climbs back into the car and hands it to Steve before starting the engine. “Need to move.”
“Hell of an efficient system,” Steve snorts as Javi pulls the car away. He’s learned that there are things from his partner that he needs to ignore and things he very much ought to learn. Employing the talents of some local kids without being told off is definitely a skill to be learned.
"Gets things done." He circles the block and finds a spot on the opposite side of the street, away from the discarded wallet. If the CIA dick does realize he's been stolen from, they can claim they had nothing to do with it. "What's the letter say?" He asks.
“Alex,” he reads off the name in the greeting line of the note and shrugs. It’s a boring, normal name just like ‘Steve’ is. “Sorry I can’t meet you tonight. I’m helping out a friend who got hurt at work and need to stay with her overnight for the next few days. Beep me if you want to make some dinner plans this week, I might be able to swing it depending on how my friend is doing.” Steve reads off the pager number and name signed at the bottom of the page before holding it to to Javi with an expectant expression on his face.
“Motherfucker.” Javi hisses, recognizing the number and slapping his hand against the steering wheel.
“What?” Steve huffs, not wanting to admit that the reaction had made him jump a little.
He recognizes that number, has dialed it recently. “We’re done.” He decides, turning the key again. “We aren’t going to find shit here.”
“The fuck is going in, Jav?” His partner asks, tone turning serious.
“Nothing.” Javi snorts, shaking his head. “Fucking sicarios won’t be within ten miles of this fucking place.”
“You figure they’re all still in Medellín?” If He’s Honest, Murphy really doesn’t know what set his partner off, except the possibility of the weird circumstantial coincidence between whoever wrote this note and the girl staying at Javi’s—— “Oh fuck.”
He’s got to give it to Murphy, he’s not too dumb. “Fuckers.”
Murphy shifts in his seat, imagining the deeply fucking uncomfortable confrontation that will no doubt occur at his partner’s apartment in no more than a half an hour. “Do you want backup?” He asks, unsure how else he can help.
He doesn’t answer, just firing up the engine again and pulling away from the curb with a yank of the wheel. A fucking CIA informant is in his house. He knew the bastards played dirty, but this is going too far.
******
Helena sleeps most of the evening and into the night. You’ve got around a hundred pages of your book left but you e put it down in favor of picking up pencil and notepad to work on your article, though you know it won’t quite be what your editor had in mind. Next week’s column on the sacrifices made and abuses endured by the working girls of Colombia will be unusual by your paper’s standards. It’s all in service of the greater narrative.
By the time Javi drops Steve off and gets back to his apartment, he’s furious. Wondering what all your rifled through to report back to your boyfriend.
The door slams so hard it rattles the frame when he comes into the apartment, and you jump up from the couch in the living room with a start. “Quiet!” You hiss out to the entry hall, putting your hands up in case he’s forgotten you’re here. “Helena’s sleeping again.”
Javi rushes forward and grabs you, spinning you around and hauling you up against the wall. “Where is it?” He demands, his hands running over your body. “Are you fucking wired?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?!” You hiss back, shoving Javier off of you just as forcefully as he had come at you. The sheer definition of fight or flight has you giving his aggression back to him full throttle. “Be fucking quiet! She just got back to sleep!”
Javi stumbles back but grabs you again, shaking you. “You’re fucking spying on me!”
“What?” Shoving him away again, you put both hands out in a sort of unconscious show of innocence as much as trying to keep him away. “I’m not fucking spying on you!”
“Then what the fuck are you doing?” He hisses, narrowing a hot glare at you. “It’s just fucking coincidence you are passing notes to the fucking CIA?”
“What the fucking are you talking about?” The best that you can do right now to keep the sounds from carrying down the hall is to move this conversation into his kitchen so you stalk past him and motion sharply for him to follow.
He growls when you just slide by him like you own the fucking place. It makes him want to throw you out on your ass, but Helena asked for you.
“Tell me what the fuck you’re talking about,” you insist, crossing your arms in the middle of his kitchen.
“Don’t fucking play stupid, sweetheart.” Javi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “CIA is just fucking pissed off we’ve shut them out of the investigation. So what? They decided to send you when the opportunity presented itself?”
“CIA doesn’t know jack shit and I wouldn’t tell them anyway.” The people that you’ve met at the embassy from the CIA are…well, Alex is the very best of them. But you can’t see how he would know about Alex and you since he didn’t even recognize you from being around the embassy from time to time.
“Bullshit.” He grunts.
“I’m a fucking journalist, Javier.” You spit at him, disgusted with the boorish way he’s barreled into this line of questioning. “I know when to keep my fucking nose clean and I know when to keep my mouth shut.”
“A journalist?” He’s highly skeptical of that but it is plausible.
“I’m going to brush past the fact that we’ve passed each other in the embassy halls at least a half dozen times and you didn’t recognize me at all when we officially met.” That’s annoying, and embarrassing, but expected. Infuriatingly handsome men do not notice girls like you. “But yes, I’m a journalist. The human-interest side of the War on Drugs. Showing people the real face of what’s going on down here alongside all of the facts and figures that make up the cartels. I’m here to work, I’m not a fucking spy.”
He remembers seeing you in the Embassy now, he had thought you were a secretary. Your ass had looked good in that pencil skirt and pink blouse. “So what? You just happened to get in bed with the CIA?” He pulls out the note and holds it up.
“How the fuck did you get that?” Snatching the note away with quick fingers, you hold it like he might have somehow hurt the paper and huff in disgust. “Way to be fucking literal, Javier. I had a date with my boyfriend tonight that I had to cancel. Is that okay with you?”
He curls his nose, repulsed by the idea that you would date that guy. Confused as to why he would give a damn too. “So why is the goddamn bartender at the club we were staking out tonight passing that note to him?” He demands. “Fucking convenient.”
This time your forehead furrowed in genuine curiosity. “Why the hell are you stalking out my building?”
“Your building?” Now it’s time for Javi to look confused. “The fucking club was supposed to be an informal meeting for the sicarios tonight.”
“Are you kidding me?” Your eyes widen in shock. “I just—I live upstairs! The bartender—Inez has been my friend since I got to Colombia, that’s all. When I went by my place earlier to get clothes, I left a note for Alex at the bar with her.”
Javi’s hands go to his hips and he stares at you. Waiting for you to give him some indication that you are lying, but you don’t. You don’t shuffle or look off to the side. Your own gaze takes on a challenging glint and it’s him that breaks first, glancing down at your lips and then back up. “And how did you get tangled up with Helena?” He demands. “Ran into her at the bodega?”
“No.” When you shake your head it’s just a little thing. Just a small motion. “I’m…a client,” you admit, releasing the breath you were holding. “And a friend. But friendship came later.”
His brows shoot up, getting the last answer he ever thought he would hear. He had expected some vague explanation that would continue to fuel his doubts about your motives but his tense frame relaxes when he hears that you had rolled around in Helena’s bed with her. Instantly trying to imagine that scene and instantly feeling guilty for it because of the other woman’s recent ordeal. “Okay.” He says simply.
“If I had thought my personal bullshit mattered to anything, I would have told you.” It twists your stomach and punches your nerves in ways you don’t want to examine too closely, to find Javier Peña upset and angry at you. That’s not a feeling you’re going to give too much thought to if you can help it.
“Who you fuck isn’t my problem.” He holds his hands up, not judging you for wanting to have sex with Helena. “With women at least.” He snorts. “But fucking a CIA cuck?” He shakes his head. “That’s sad.”
“He’s nice to me.” It sounds like a poor defense when it comes out of your mouth, but it’s the truth. It’s only been a few weeks and Alex has been nothing but nice.
“Yeah.” Javi snorts again. “I bet.” He has a reasonable idea why he’s so nice to you and it has nothing to do with finding you attractive.
Your brow furrows more deeply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You live above a club that has been on the fucking watchlist for months.” He chuckles. “I bet there’s a great view of the entrance from your windows, isn’t there?”
The protest is on the tip of your tongue. It’s right there. Alex is a nice guy. He’s sweet and he never protests your weird hours. Or even insisted that you stop seeing the girls. “Yeah.” Your voice turned small and defeated. “Yeah…I guess there is.”
You seem to deflate and for a second, Javier feels that same nagging tug of guilt that he feels when he thinks of Helena. Like he's at fault. Instead of letting it linger, he shifts. "If you're going to be here, you don't pass anything to him." He tells you. "Or I'll have your visa revoked so fucking fast it'll take a week for your ass to catch up to it." He promises. "Doesn't matter how nice it is." He growls, turning around and stalking off.
“I wasn’t fucking going to.” You growl at his back, but immediately thump off to the guest room where Helena is sleeping so you don’t have to look at him.
Closing the door to his bedroom behind him, Javi sighs. closing his eyes as the tension from the past few days weighs him down. He needs a fucking break and this new discovery just makes him even more stressed. His cock twitches in his pants and he thinks about what he really needs. He needs to fuck and he reaches up to rub his neck, feeling the knot of tension there. Maybe Vanessa is back from Medellín.
******
You close the door of the guest room carefully behind you, working not to wake Helena up, until you turn to sit down in the chair beside her bed again and find her with her eyes open staring at the ceiling. “Hey beautiful,” you hum, instantly moving to her side. “How are you feeling?”
"The same." She admits softly. "Numb." She lifts her fingers and wiggles them slightly before she looks over at you. "Did I hear Javier?" She asks, hoping that he will come in and see her. That heavy feeling in her chest might disappear if he's in here.
“Um…yeah. He’s back.” The hope in her voice breaks your heart, so you try to excuse it as quickly as you can. Excuse him even though he doesn’t deserve it. “In a bad mood.”
She sighs softly. "Then he will be leaving again." She murmurs. "Finding Vanessa or Freckles for company."
“Is that what he does when he’s in a bad mood?” That makes you frown even more, imagining how he must treat them when he comes in angry.
She catches your frown and reaches over, touching your hand. "It's not bad." She promises you softly. "He has never left a bruise that wasn't wanted." She knows you are aware of some pleasurable bruises, you've left a few yourself. "He just....exhausts himself with us when he is worked up."
“I worry,” you admit, just as quietly, and squeeze her hand back. “Obviously. Worrying too much is why you had my beeper number.” Which, in turn, is evidence that you apparently worry just the right amount.
“Javi isn’t that type of man.” She murmurs. “He’s gruff, but kind. He’s wonderful.”
“You care about him.” She more than cares, that has always been fairly obvious to you from the time you’ve gotten to know her, but you never commented on it before.
“I do.” She sighs wistfully. “There was a time I imagined that he might be the one for me.” She admits quietly. “Even if we don’t share marks. But I know that is just a foolish dream.”
“Marks don’t have to determine your life,” you remind her, although you can’t say that you understand the affection for Javier specifically. Aside from being ludicrously sexy, you don’t quite get it. “People make their own decisions every day and are wonderfully happy with their lives.”
“I know.” She sighs and closes her eyes. “But that’s not possible in this case.”
"Nothing is impossible." That is something you have always believed in, but you try not to sound empty in your optimism. After all, life is hard as hell and sometimes things just don't go your way. But that doesn't mean good things can't happen.
“You are sweet.” She murmurs, squeezing your hand gently and then changing the subject. “Can I have some water?”
"Of course." Without hesitation, you hand her the glass you have handy on the nearby nightstand.
“Thank you.” She takes the glass and sits up to take a drink, the cuts and bruises on her body are raw and a contrast to her normally smooth and beautiful skin. “What do you think of him?” She asks after she has drunk her fill. “He’s wonderful, yes?”
"He is...opinionated." You state, trying for something diplomatic but having a feeling that you're falling far short.
She looks at you and the tiniest corner of her mouth inches up. “So he made a good impression on you?” Her tone says she knows otherwise and is amused by it.
"He's very sure of himself." That's your second try, but you know it's still not very good.
She gives as small laugh and then shuffles slightly. “I need to use the bathroom.” She admits quietly.
It's only a small effort to help her out of bed. Helena isn't incapable just a little woozy, but you steady her down the hall. It's apparent once you leave the room that Javier has, in fact, gone, and you hope like hell that Helena is right about him not overdoing it with the girls when he's upset. You'd rather stand in front of the man yourself and take a beating without fighting back than subject any of them to a single finger on them when they didn't want it.
Even though she didn’t need much help, she’s still tired and angry at herself for being that way. “This is ridiculous.” She hisses as you literally tuck her into bed.
“It will get less ridiculous every day.” Even though you’re not sure how many days it will take for her to feel better, or the degree of ‘better’ that each day will bring. You’ll be here for all of it.
“Will it?” She asks, her eyes veiled and guilty. “I don’t think it will.”
“It will.” Stalwart in your support, you sit down again and smooth out the surprisingly soft blanket on the guest bed. “It may not be quickly, and it will probably be hard, but it will get better.”
Helena knows that there will be a lot more she has to recover from that just the physical injuries. She still has to support her son and the only way she knows how to do that is by selling her body. “We will see.”
******
Since coming into this apartment you have felt nothing but frustrated and upset, so when you plop down on the living room couch again with your notebook in front of you to work on your article, you can't concentrate. There's crap strewn out on the coffee table, and while you had dutifully ignored anything that wasn't your before, now you're pissed at Javier.
His own sense of guilt had run him out of his own apartment. Irritating him even more when he sees the hurt in your eyes when you had accused him of not noticing you at the embassy. Leaving him once again, unable to clean shit up before he had hauled ass, an unfortunate result that he had to deal with until he returned. Hopefully you were telling the truth and you would keep your nose out of his shit.
The fact is, it is an accident at first. There is a stereo in the living room with a tape in the cassette deck and you just wanted to listen to some music quietly and try to clear your head.
The part that is your fault is that you didn’t shut off the tape when you heard Javier’s voice play out of the speakers.
“Listen.” Javier can see how nervous Helena is and the rasp of his hands stroking her arms comes through the recording. “I just want you to listen.” He tells her quietly. “Don’t ask questions. You smile at them. Take their money, and listen.”
Your blood freezes in your veins as you listen, and you shift forward on the couch with a frown etched on your face hoping that you’re hearing things incorrectly as the conversation goes on.
“Where are you going to be?” Helena asks, the pout evident in her voice. “I know I will have to shower, but I will need you to make me feel good after.”
Javi sighs softly. “We are booking a room at the hotel, making sure we can take photos of the sicarios and heads of the drug cartels as they come in.”
He put her up to this. He fucking put her up to this, the bastard. Whatever trouble Helena got into was at Javier fucking Peña’s request.
“Anyone I should go for?” Helena is eager to please, wanting to get as much information as she can to help him. Hoping that it will ease along her plea for a visa to the US.
“Don’t try to pick out someone in particular.” He warns. “Most of them are even more paranoid than the sicarios they have working for them.”
Fucking hell…he was even giving her directions. The sickening flip on your stomach deepens distinctly. How could she possibly still trust him after his instructions got her so hurt?
“Okay.” Helena agrees and there is the sound of a quick kiss. “I’m serious Helena. Don’t ask questions. Don’t let them think you know anything about them.”
Disbelief and anger flood your system, making you seethe as you sit and listen to Javier’s clearly concerned tone as he instructs Helena on how to collect information and her absolute willingness to go into danger based on blind affection.
Again there is another sigh. "You meet me when you’re done." Javi demands. "Two blocks over, when you leave, you come straight to me."
“Christ.” You mutter out loud, slamming your hand down in the cassette buttons to stop the horror from unfolding even further.
The doorknob rattles, a hissed curse and the sound of dropped keys is muted through the door. Javi doesn't exactly feel happy, but he's better now. A little less raw around the edges after spending a few hours with Freckles. He had seen Vanessa, reassuring himself that both women had come out of Medellín unscathed and told them about Helena. They had wanted to come back to the apartment with him, but he had promised he would let them over when she was up for more than an hour at a time.
The sick feeling in your stomach roils violently when you hear the door, and the faster you can get out of that living room the better. It isn’t running away, it isn’t fleeing, but it is certainly avoiding him. Avoiding him at all fucking costs while the only words you could possibly have will be the angry and screaming sort. For now all you do is retreat to your own guest room right next door to Helena, securely locking the door behind you. If he wants to speak to you — which he surely won’t — he can knock politely and get a denial. That’s all there is to it.
He's surprised to find the living room vacant when he opens the door. The lights are on, but no one is there. Glancing at the table, he tilts his head when he sees the tape player pushed slightly askew and he looks towards the closed bedroom door. Deciding that the best thing he can do is go to bed after the puts all that shit away.
******
The last time you talked to Javier was five days ago when you argued and he'd gone out the door in a huff. Since then you have made every effort to avoid him despite continuing to stay at his apartment, making sure that Helena is protected and cared for above all else.
It's been long enough that she's feeling physically better. While the mental scars may never completely heal, the best thing for them at this moment is good company. Today the apartment will be full of life and light for the first time in a whole damn week, as you clear the coffee table in Javier's living room and get out lunch things and a deck of cards for Freckles and Vanessa to come over and see their closest friend.
"I feel so much better after a shower." Helena admits with soft groan, running her fingers through her squeaky-clean curls, towel still wrapped around her nude body. While she had been cleaned up in the hospital and you had helped her for the past few days, this was the first time she had been able to linger in a shower and not worry about any cuts.
"Sometimes it's the little things that make us feel more human." You offer her a smile as she passes through the living room. "The girls should be here any minute. Do you want a cold drink?"
"I'd rather break into Javi's whiskey bottle." She admits with a small grin. She has been able to recover here a lot faster than she would have expected. Javi had been gone a lot, but she knows that he has been leaving her favorite fruits every morning for her. It's a sweet, and unnecessary gesture.
"Then that's what we'll do." Feeling no allegiance to the man whatsoever, you have no guilt opening that bottle for her benefit, and you wave her toward her room. "Pick out some clean clothes and I'll play bartender," you promise her.
“I’ll go get dressed.” She agrees, feeling better when she has that comfortable shirt on. She might have stolen it from Javier’s drawer in his bedroom, but it made her feel better.
It's really just bits of things that you assemble for lunch, but plates of cheese and fresh bread and juicy fruit and spicy seasoned meat are all piled high. And while you're sure that you could have attempted making arepas and the girls would all have been kind about it, you figured it was better to pop down to the stand on the street corner one block over and buy a stack of them from the cart owner. With everything out to pick on just as leisurely as you please, you plunk a deck of cards in the center and turn to mix cocktails while Helena gets dressed.
She pairs the shirt with a pair of shorts , looking in the mirror for only a second as she pulls her hair back, the bruises on her face garish shades of green and black. It still looks better than before so she counts herself lucky.
The buzzer goes off mere seconds after Helena emerges from her room, and you cross to the panel in the hallway to answer it. Freckles and Vanessa’s joyful voices are on the other end, and you buzz them up without hesitation. They deserve this time together, these three dear friends, and you’re grateful that they’re willing to let you stay and be a part of their liveliness in the process.
The knock on the door comes a few moments later since Javi’s apartment is on the second floor of the split-level building. Both of them still chattering happily when you open the door to let them in.
“It’s so good to see you.” There are hugs all around when you step back to let them inside, but Freckles and Vanessa look positively confounded to see you in Javier’s apartment.
“We didn’t expect to see you here.” Vanessa hums, and Freckles smirks slightly. “At least not now. In the future for sure.”
“Be…cause…all Americans in Bogotá know each other?” Clearly confused but shrugging it off, you wave them both into the apartment where Helena is emerging from her room and the living room table is set with food and drinks.
The attention turns to Helena and there are tearful hugs and caresses shared by the three women. “You poor thing.” Vanessa coos softly. “I was so worried until Javi called.” She confesses. “Bianca was killed, we had thought you-“ she chokes up and Freckles breaks in. “But you didn’t, you are here and as soon as you are able, we have decided that we are going to rent a house together.”
Bianca was killed. The words rattle through you as your three friends reunite, with the knowledge that one friend will never return home at all. It’s a sobering piece of knowledge, and one that ironically makes you reach for a glass of whiskey even faster than you would have otherwise.
Helena closes her eyes and tries not to cry. She knows too well that it could have happened with her, it honestly should have happened if it weren’t for Javi. “What about her friend?” She asks softly.
“Lorena is okay.” Freckles sits down on the couch beside Helena and takes her hand. “No one really got out without something happening.”
“We never should have gone to Medellín for that party.” She murmurs, although it wasn’t like they had much of a choice.
“What’s done is done.” Vanessa reminds her gently. “All we can do now is keep moving forward.”
“I’m glad we got out.” She admits, looking down at her hands. “Why do you want to rent a house?” She asks.
“We need a place to live that isn’t attached to all that.” Vanessa insists. She kisses your cheek when you hand out glasses but say nothing, not interrupting their conversation but helping them all relax.
“I think it will be good for us.” She admits after a moment. “And it would be good to be away from the brothel for the visa.”
"And it would be better to look for a job if our address is not a brothel," Freckles adds, shifting the weight of her glass between her hands.
“You want to get out?” Helena is surprised, since they both earned really well at the brothel.
“I want there to be the chance,” Freckles admits quietly, her eyes trained on the rug with guilt. “The money is good but…look at what has happened to all of us in the last few weeks.”
“Yeah.” Vanessa sighs softly. “Even if Javi can’t get you a visa, your son deserves to have his mother with him.”
“I’m not a miracle worker…” Sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, you survey your three friends with nothing but the deepest affection. “But I’ll help however I can.”
“You have your own things to worry about.” Freckles sends you a mysterious smile. “How is your story coming?”
“It’s…something I wanted to talk to all of you about,” you admit, but shake it off. “Later, though.” Helena had already agreed to be interviewed for your article with a further hope of being granted a visa under far less dangerous circumstances. “I think we all deserve a little time to be with our friends.”
“Of course.” Vanessa smiles. “We will drink Javi’s booze and we brought some food.”
“There’s lots of food.” Helena had teased you gently about playing hostess, but only out of love.
“Oh?” Freckles snorts. “Have you been treated like royalty?” She reaches over and squeezes her hand, knowing that she deserves it.
“Fuck no.” You snort and shake your head. “I went shopping to make sure we had nice things today.”
The other two women eye you with a small smirk. “Javi doesn’t keep a lot in the apartment?” She asks, even though she can guess the answer. Food is an after thought to Javier Peña. Well below pussy, cigarette, whiskey.
“I didn’t even ask about his stuff.” Not that you’ve said more than six different words to him in the last few days. No. The less you see of or speak to that infuriating man, the better.
“Uh oh.” Vanessa and Freckles exchange a laugh, having discussed several times how they felt you and Javi would clash. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“I’m sorry.” Shifting in your seat, you shrug a little as though you aren’t still deep attracted to the bastard and dealing with a weirdly nagging guilty feeling in the hollow of your chest. “I know you guys are friends with him but Javier’s been nothing but an asshole to me.”
“You don’t need to be sorry.” Helena reaches for your hand. “But don’t hate him too much. He has a good heart. Truly.”
“If you say so.” Though it doesn’t make sense to you why they keep insisting you give Javier so much leeway.
“Well.” Freckles claps her hands together and changes the subject. “Why don’t we eat? I’m starving!”
“Absolutely!” Vanessa agrees, picking up on the tone, and all four of you dig in to the food that you’ve laid out for a lazy, social lunch.
There are crazy stories, jokes and laughter to be heard from the apartment. The four of you having fun and relaxing in a much needed get together. Helena forgets about her bruises and the other things that happened as she laughs at one of your stories and takes another sip of her drink.
Stories begin to roll out, about this and that and whatever, and soon the pack of cards is open and being dealt. It's not exactly a day for strip poker, but as the whiskey flows and the snack tidbits they're betting with become a pile in the middle of the table, and the group of friends somehow turn each winning hand into the ability to ask a question that all the others must answer on penalty of forfeiting some of their winnings.
Freckles rolls her eyes playfully as she huffs at Helena. “What kind of question is that?” She demands, even as she throws her cards back onto the pile. “You know the answer.” Helena snorts and wags her finger at her. “Then answer it.” Freckles laughs.
"I don't know the answer!" You remind them, pouting to insist that Helena reveals the identity of the very best lover she's ever had. The stories make you certain that it is most definitely not her son's father, but you have just enough whiskey in your system that you could not possibly guess who it will be. Most cohesive or logical thought has flown out the window like a particularly pretty bird.
She sighs and there is a guilty edge to the way her teeth work her lip between them. “I— for a woman….” She shrugs. “It’s you.” She admits, glancing back at you and holding up her hands. “I’m serious.”
"You don't have to say that just because I'm sitting here!" That can't possibly be true. Can it? Out of all the women in the world? "You're sweet to say it though, gorgeous."
“I knew she would not believe it.” Helena rolls her eyes and looks towards Vanessa. “It is true. She told me after the first time you fucked.”
“I guess I’m just eager to please.” Despite eating your fill, you definitely have a light head from the whiskey and end up giggling over the very idea that you are anyone’s best anything. It’s immensely flattering to say the least.
Freckles throws her head back and laughs. "The irony of this is just too much." She throws her arm around Helena. "You know this, right?"
“Irony of what?” You snort through another laugh. “That some chubby American girl is good in bed?”
Vanessa huffs at your description of yourself. "That is not nice to yourself." She tells you. "No, it's who her male best lover is."
You simply gloss over the protest of your self-description with the wave of a hand. “Unless it’s one of my brothers, I don’t see the irony.”
"Shhhhhhh." Freckles puts her finger to her lips and giggles. "She doesn't know."
“Don’t know what?” It feels like proof of your cluelessness that your head pops up and your brows knit in confusion, but you actually don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.
"They are so alike though." Helena sighs, almost mournfully, even though her heart would clench for both of you equally. "It's only fair that they share marks."
“Who does?” Just because you have mixed feelings about your own soulmate doesn’t mean that other people can’t want or be happy with theirs. You’re just not the girl who sat around twiddling your thumbs until your preordained match decided to come knocking.
"You." Vanessa giggles, biting her lip and leaning back so she can take another sip of her drink. "You and Javi." She coos. "Another great lover."
“Oh shut the fuck up.” The curse pours out in English and you sputter at all of them for a minute before switching back to Spanish. “You’re only saying that because I said he was rude.”
"Vanessa!" Freckles hisses, even though she is laughing because of the alcohol and the horror on her face. Helena pouts, still slightly upset that you don't believe her that you are a good lover. "It is true."
“Aren’t soulmates supposed to have an instant attraction or something?” But you did, you realize a moment later, and swallow the lump in your throat in horror. You’ve been attracted to Javier Peña since the second you saw him. Thinking he’s an insufferable egotist and finding him attractive are separate things.
"You don't find him attractive?" Helena is shocked, unable to imagine that. She's seen you looking at the one picture Javier has of himself in the apartment. It's a picture of him with his mother, before she got sick. He was twenty and it was before he had decided to grow a mustache.
“I mean…” Feeling like you’ve been caught in a trap, you squirm in your seat and shrug dramatically. “I guess? But it’s so much more about personality for me.”
"He is...complicated." She insists. "But he is not a bad guy."
“It’s not that I necessarily think he’s bad, it’s just that—” As easily as you had begun rambling, your mouth snaps shut again as you look between the other three women. Your friends. Your lovers. You lovers of several months at this point. And all of a sudden the clenching in your chest feels like betrayal instead of heartache. “How long have you known?”
All three women suddenly stop smiling, the humor slipping from their faces when they see how upset you are. "From the beginning." Helena admits quietly. "We have not said anything to either one of you until now."
“Why not?” It seems so important to have that piece of information about someone, and now you’re shifting in your seat all over again.
"Because both of you seem so..." Freckles shrugs. "Indifferent to the idea of a soulmate." They had all noticed that neither one of you seem particularly interested in finding that other person, despite them being so close.
“It still seems like something you should tell a person.” It’s not that you’re angry necessarily. You’re not. Just like you’re not excited or joyful at the fact. It’s more like…you’re frustrated that a piece of intimate knowledge about you yourself was kept from you by people you otherwise feel fairly close to.
“We were hoping you would find out naturally.” Vanessa adds. “You might not think so now, but you are Javi’s type.”
“You were hoping he’d just sweep me off my feet and we’d find out in a frenzy of torn clothes?” It’s such an unrealistic scenario to you. Starting with the very idea that a man as universally desired as Javier Peña would even look twice at you.
"We didn't know if you would meet at the embassy, or a bar, or even the brothel." Freckles snorts. "Although we had kind of hoped it would be at the brothel."
"You guys were just hoping to witness it for the gossip." It's the first wisp of a smile since they told you, and it cracks the frown on your face like a thin sheet of ice.
"I wanted to see the fireworks." Vanessa admits. "Because I know there will be some. You two are passionate people."
A barely perceptible puff of a huff comes from your lips, and you shrug while you settle back in your seat – along with the last long drink of whiskey from your glass. "Now instead of fucking, we might just kill each other instead."
“I think he would still fuck you.” This time with you and Javi in the apartment together has gone a long way to helping her put her feelings for Javi aside.
"Well, even if he did..." Your glass is empty, so you reach immediately for the bottle to pour yourself more. This is definitely more than a two-drink problem. "Even if he did decide he wasn't repulsed by me, we're constantly at each other's throats. It would never work."
“You haven’t seen the way he looks at you.” She murmurs softly.
"He doesn't look at me." Distance be damned, you shift forward and grab the whiskey bottle, pouring yourself another measure without guilt. "We don't see each other and we don't speak. Some fucking soulmates we are."
Helena snorts. “Every night, two-thirty on the dot, that man comes into my room.” She admits. “Sometimes I let him know I’m awake, but most of the time, I just pretend to be asleep.” She sighs softly. “He looks at you in that chair like you are a puzzle he can’t quite figure out. A mystery that is haunting him.” She nearly laughs, but it comes out breathy. “That’s what wakes you up when you fall asleep in that armchair, you know. It’s Javi coming into the room every night.”
"The only woman in the world who didn't instantly drop her clothes at his feet." It's only half a joke. Any of those times at the embassy, or outside the brothel, or any of those early days...you would have. You would have just been one of the many women mooning over him as he passed them by. You had been one of those women. Now you're so blinded by anger and frustration that you're basically hate-masturbating about him in the shower. Which is a whole other bag of worms that you aren't quite ready to open.
“He’s been turned down plenty of times.” Freckles snorts. “Hell, I turned him down to start.”
"You know what I mean," you mumble at them with a childish pout on your face.
“What happened to make you dislike him so much?” Vanessa asks, nosey about this hostility. Javi has never been overtly mean to any woman that she’s seen and she can’t imagine he would be to you.
"We got into some arguments when I first got here." Explaining what you heard on that tape -- while you were eavesdropping – feels too dirty. It makes you feel every bit as guilty of his bad opinion of you as he is of yours. "After basically the first day, we just haven't talked to each other."
“Emotions were high.” Freckles guesses, knowing that Javi has been feeling extremely guilty for what happened, even if all the girls were still going to go to Medellín even if he hadn’t known about it.
"What matters is that we got you home," you murmur, reaching over to gently touch Helena's arm and making sure she sees the gesture coming the whole time. She is understandably jumpy about sudden movements and touches right now.
“I’m here.” She murmurs. “I’m okay. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”
“I’m always going to worry just a little bit.” She touches your hand briefly when you say it, just a gesture of understanding and affection, and you withdraw again so she doesn’t feel pinned down by the small gesture. And you realize in the same instant that despite continuing to drink you feel irrevocably sober. “That’s part of caring about my friends.”
“And we care about you.” Vanessa tells you seriously. “You have been the sweetest woman we have known outside of our own girls.”
“And you have all been just as sweet to me.” This one, rather large piece of information is the exception. This is the difference. The change. That they kept this from you. It isn’t that you want to run off into the sunset with your soulmate — that isn’t it at all. It’s that you….well, why do you care at all? The man is frustrating as all hell.
"I need to go to the bathroom." Helena announces and stands up, swaying slightly before waving off help and stumbling to the bathroom.
The remaining few of you are quiet for some time, contemplating your drinks or —Freckles and Vanessa’s preferred sitting position — cuddling on the couch. It isn’t until Helena has been gone maybe five minutes that you set your glass down and exhale slowly, like you’re gathering your strength. “You three really all think the world of him, don’t you?”
Vanessa hums, looking over at you with soft affection. "What we think doesn't really matter." She promises. "Maybe we fucked up by not telling you." She can admit that they were wrong, and that dropping that little fun fact wasn't the best idea when they've killed a bottle of Javi's whiskey. "You- we didn't want it to be strange for you. To know that we were all sleeping with your soulmate." She admits. "Some of it was selfishness. Most people don't like knowing the past of their person and we could lost both of you."
“Sex is different than love. They’re both important, but they’re different. Or at least not always intertwined.” They know that you feel that way. After all, you’re their client, too. And even with starting to see Alex, you hadn’t stopped. Not that you ever had any disillusion of loving Alex. Not for a second. “If I had even pretended to care who my soulmate slept with before me, I’d be an awful hypocrite.” You’re an awful hypocrite for caring who he loves before you too, you realize with a pang of guilt. But maybe it’s for the best that you distance yourself from the whole situation. “Can I ask…” you bite your lip. “Does he know?”
“We hadn’t breathed a word of it to either of you.” Freckles promises, shaking her head. “It wouldn’t be fair.”
“It isn’t fair that he doesn’t know now,” you point out quietly, unsure how the man in question will react to this news. If at all.
“Well, I guess it’s now just a matter of who tells him.” Vanessa sighs. She knows what you might not believe, the moment Javier Peña knows who his soulmate is, he will stop seeing them.
“I don’t think it would be particularly welcome coming from me.” And he also deserves an explanation of why they never told him, but you won’t insist they give him that. It’s up to the three of them and him. You just can’t imagine that coming out of the guest room long enough to term the man you’re soulmates after not speaking to him for the better part of five days will go over well.
“You’ve never been curious about the small tattoo on your inner thigh?” She asks curiously. “Why an elephant?”
“Curious?” You shrug as though you hadn’t obsessed over it when it appeared. “I guess? I just figured the person liked elephants.”
“His mother loved elephants.” She had asked him about it one time and he had reluctantly told her the story.
“There we go.” You don’t really know what else to say to that. Your own tattoo is small but distinct and probably makes no sense to anyone but you. “Mystery solved.”
Freckles sighs, not exactly pleased with your nonchalance. It’s not like she can make you care. Helena comes out of the bathroom and she groans, putting down her own drink. “My turn.” She hums, needing to use the bathroom too.
It becomes a line, much to everyone’s amusement, and four women parade one by one to the bathroom beside the apartment’s living room. The mood lightens a little purely based on a change of topic, and you, Freckles, and Vanessa put all your attention on Helena’s readiness to go home.
“It will be good to be in my bed.” Helena admits with a small smile. “That bed is comfortable, but it is not mine.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” you nod, feeling the same way about the other guest bed versus your own comfortably soft mattress at home.
“You do not have to stay.” Helena murmurs, motioning towards herself. “I can move around. I’ve decided to tell Javier I will be leaving in a few days.”
“I’ll leave when you’re ready to.” The decision to stay for her was easy and immediate and so is this. You’re not leaving her while she might still need help. “Unless he kicks me out when you tell him. Which would be fair.”
She snorts softly, sure that wouldn’t be the case, but you seem to think there are no redeeming qualities to Javier. “Well, thank you.”
“He’s not going to kick you out, bonita.” Freckles promises, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’ll see.”
It’s like he’s been summoned by the conversation. It’s probably the first time he’s been home before dark in a week. Only here because both Vanessa and Freckles weren’t available and he wasn’t feeling like paying anyone else for their time. He had decided to come home and be moody in his own damn apartment so you could just deal with it. He paid the goddamn rent here. His key slides easily and turns in the lock since it wasn’t secured and he opens the door to find the women he had been look for sitting on his couch with Helena and you.
“Speak of the devil.” Freckles hums, popping up from her seat to go over and greet Javi when his figure appears, looming in the hallway.
“Ladies.” He shoots you all an almost self-conscious grin, caught a little off guard to have all of them here together. The remnants of food, booze and cards are still scattered, and he chuckles. “Throwing a party?”
"Helena was finally feeling up to having some more company." Freckles tells him, moving across the room to give him a kiss by way of greeting. "We may have snitched a bottle of whiskey to celebrate with."
Javi turns his mouth towards hers, not shy about accepting and deepening the kiss from the beautiful woman. There’s an easy intimacy with all of them, except you, that allows it. “I can tell.” He hums, amused when Vanessa almost stumbles behind Freckles. “You’re all shit housed.”
"Not all of us." Vanessa huffs, but giggles at herself as she nudges your side. "Somebody got serious and sobered up."
His eyes slide over to you, dark and searching before he looks back at Freckles. “One of you has to be responsible.” He hums.
"I'm just less drunk than these three," you point out, accepting Vanessa's kiss to your cheek as a measure of some kind of reassurance. "I wouldn't call this sober."
Helena comes over and slides her arm around Javi’s waist, she’s more comfortable when she’s making the gesture right now and it’s comforting to feel him immediately hug her close. “They have been wonderful.”
"You just needed a little girl time." Freckles hugs Helena and Javier both before moving away from his side. She sways slightly but it's less than she did on the way back from the bathroom so that counts as a win in her book.
“That’s good.” Javi’s hands are gentle as he holds Helena. “You doing alright today?”
"A lot better." She leans into his touch but doesn't push it further like she usually would. She's too acutely aware of you standing just a few yards away. "Thank you, Javi."
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He still feels guilty, but at least the haunted gaze has finally fled her eyes.
"I think I'll..." she swallows, but looks up to find his watchful eyes on her. "I'll head home in a few more days."
“You don’t have to.” He murmurs softly, frowning at the idea of her leaving before she’s ready.
"I know." Helena places another kiss on his other cheek and pats his chest, like she's reassuring not only him but also herself. "I'm healing, and stronger every day. And I miss my son."
"I'll be out of your hair as soon as Helena is ready to go home again," you tell him. These few minutes are the first you've even spent in the room with him in days, let alone spoke to him, and now it feels even more awkward since you know what you are to each other.
Now that it's in your head, you can't help but wonder. Wonder what the hell it is they see in him that seems to be so wonderful.
And wonder if you could ever see it, too.
Javi wants to be an asshole, the harsh words that have passed between you sit like another weight in his belly. He hates when a beautiful woman is mad at him, even if he doesn’t show it. It chews him up and makes him doubt himself. “I’m sure you will be happy to go home.” He offers quietly, figuring that might be less offensive than anything else he might say.
He’s found your paper after asking Coleen some questions and has been reading your articles. You’re fucking talented and witty in your stories, even if you’ve been given shit to write about. He’s got to wonder why you are here, and what you will write about next.
"Sure." You nod vaguely, but the sick feeling in your stomach says that you're not entirely sure. And doubt only makes the sick feeling worsen. "I miss my landlady's dog."
Javi nods. “Right.” He looks around at the other women and sighs. “Come on ladies.” He jerks his head towards the door. “I’ll give you a ride home. You’re too drunk for me to let you get home on your own.”
______
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#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Javier Peña#Javier Peña x reader#Javier Peña x you#Javier Peña x female reader#Javier Peña x f!reader#Javier Peña x plus size reader#plus size reader#Narcos#Narcos fanfic#soulmate au
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Title: Back Home in Your Arms
Genere: Marvel, Superheroes, Comfort
Pairing: Beast x superhero!Reader
Warnings: Blood, descriptions of graphic injury, depictions of anxiety attacks, emotional breakdown
Rating: E10+ for Everyone 10 and up.
It was a quiet day. Or at least, that's what he told himself.
You had been away for days on end for a business trip to Chicago, and you both expected your return to be in just a week.
But then a week turned into two, then three plus some days. All the while his anxiety began to grow higher and higher.
To summarize what happened with Hank during the extra time you were gone, let's get descriptive.
Day 1: You both had assumed that your flight was simply delayed so didn't think much of it. So you went about doing your usual things to pass the time until the day concluded.
Day 2: He felt a little on edge, but not too terribly worried. Still, he sent you a text to make sure you were alright. After a few hours of no reply, his anxiety began to grow, but it was still manageable.
Days 3-4: He tried to call you over and over during his downtime, to which he got no response of any sort other than silence.
Days 5-7: His condition was visibly getting worse. He ate less and slept barely any at all. And even if he did sleep, he'd have frequent nightmares about what may have happened to you. Were you cheating on him? Was someone taking advantage of you? Did someone kidnap you? All these questions in his head made him uneasy.
Days 8-10: It's really getting bad, his figure has slimmed down at an alarming rate, the bags under his eyes are heavier than ever, and he can barely even do his usual tasks without his arms shaking or losing his grip. Not to mention his vision is getting worse, not even glasses help him.
Days 11-14: Now Hank is at his most vulnerable. He's holed up in his room, wracked with worry. His sanity is beginning to slip from fear, his heart rate is through the roof, eyes reddened from the seemingly endless hours of either silent or open crying. The others were already worried about him, but now their concerns are at an all-time high. Even before then, they had tried to trace your location to see where you were and what was going on so he could calm down a little, but nothing turned up.
Day 15: Half a month later and still no news. His room is trashed, his mood now only ranges from sad, to frightened. It's not a pretty sight.
A day later and there's a knock on the door.
Logan answers it and sees a slightly familiar face.
Logan: "He's not looking too good. You should see for yourself."
He led you to his room which had a name tag that read "Hank McCoy" in gold lettering.
Logan left you alone and you entered the room, noticing the state of disarray it was in, and the crumpled blue furry man on the ground, crunched up in the fetal position.
You: "Hank?"
You placed a hand on his head, causing him to jolt up and look at you.
It takes a couple minutes of him looking you over, feeling your skin and even sniffing your hair and the crook of your neck, but eventually, he realizes that it's you.
He's quick to embrace you, forgetting his own strength in spite of his condition. Still, you didn't mind. You were just happy to see him again. But his face was still wracked with worry. Your clothes were torn, and your body was covered in scratches, bruises, a black eye, deep cuts and lots of blood.
Hank: "Where have you been? What happened? Are you okay? Who hurt you? When did you-"
During his torrent of questions, you soothed his soul with a gentle kiss on the lips.
He closed his eyes and held you a bit more gently than previously. Then he pulled you in for another hug and showed no signs of letting you go.
You: "Long story short, supervillains interrupted the trip which made us late for our flights home, so I needed to hitch a few rides back here."
You took a look at the room around you and remarked how uncharacteristically messy it was.
You: "But it looks like you've been through a hell of your own."
Hank: "All that matters is that we're here. Home in our arms."
Afterwards the two of you took a shower to clean each other off after the past few days of chaos, then you slept together on the couch, the best sleep either of you have had in days. And come the next day, you spent it cleaning up his room and making sure he took care of himself. Meaning making sure he had plenty to eat and drink, getting in some exercise, and taking plenty of breaks. And in record time, he was back to his usual self.
You: "Now remember, if this happens again Hank, don't worry about me. I may not have powers, but I won't go down that easy."
Hank: "I know. Sorry love."
You two shared a kiss and just sat together in his lab, you snuggled up against him while he got back to work on his projects.
#character x y/n#reblog friendly#fanfic#marvel#comfort#beast#x men#Hank McCoy x Reader#hank mccoy#Beast x Reader#superhero reader#wolverine and the x men#anxitey#emotional
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Redtribution - Jason Todd
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn! reader
Genre: angst -> fluff, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: Jason seeks justice for you after you get assaulted
CW: assault, semi-implied SA, murder, trauma, recovery, jason murders your abuser, angst, panic attack(s), hurt/comfort, soft! jason, everyone lowkey justifying murder, mentions of Under The Red Hood, lmk if i missed anything!!)
this is so fucking self indulgent but i do not even care rn. probably not officially back to writing yet but ill ease back into it in the next month or so. i spent an hour looking up the meaning of flowers before I posted this. anyways enjoy lol
————
It’s nearly five in the morning when Jason is stumbling through the doors of Wayne manor, trying to wipe the blood drops off of his jacket. He kicks off his boots and starts to head upstairs, hoping no one will see him before he gets the chance to shower and change. He’d usually go to his apartment on nights like these but he just got new flooring and bloodstains don’t go with his decor.
He’s careful walking up the stairs, staying on the balls of his feet to not make any noise. The manor is dark and oddly empty, everyone else asleep or about to return from their nighttime activities. He enjoys the silence, though. It makes it easier for him to blend in and sneak around.
He makes it upstairs without being seen and says a silent prayer as he walks down the hallway. The floorboards upstairs have a bad habit of creaking and he lives in a house with the most vigilant people in Gotham. A sound to his right has him stopping dead in his tracks.
He slows his breathing, keeping his focus entirely on the sounds around him. The usual spinning fans and light snoring, but something else on top of that. Crying? It’s hard to tell, so Jason shuffles closer to the door he thinks it’s coming from.
Hard, breathless sobbing meets his ears. It’s somewhat muffled through the door and he can’t quite make out who it is. His first thought is Damian, but given the hour and the fact it’s a school night, he’s sure the brat wouldn’t dare make this much noise even if he was awake. Plus, he’s not even sure if the bastard can cry.
Jason squints. So who’s crying in there? He counts the doors in the hallway in his head, trying to remember who usually slept where. It wouldn’t be Dick or Tim, or even Steph or Cass. So that leaves…y/n?
His stomach drops. What are you doing up at this hour? What are you even doing in the manor? You usually stayed in your own place, trying to pursue a normal life.
He knocks gently at the door, but you say nothing on the other side. He sighs and gently pushes it open. You’re curled up in a ball in your bed, head almost pressed into your knees, shaking violently. The sight of you makes his heart ache.
“Y/n,” he tries to keep his voice gentle to be less imposing, which he supposes is a stupid idea given he’s covered in blood.
You don’t say anything, you don’t even look up at him. He walks towards you, letting the floorboards creak under his feet to alert you to his presence. He makes it to your side, kneeling at the side of the bed. He doesn’t dare touch you right now.
“Y/n, it’s Jason…is everything okay?”
You look up for just a second, letting him see your red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. You relax at the sight of him despite the tears in your eyes before going back to sobbing again.
He can’t remember a single time in all the time that he’s known you that he’s seen you like this. You’ve always had a softer heart than the rest of them, you’ve always been the best of them. You don’t deserve this.
He tries to think back to anything recently that you mentioned, anything that could’ve made you feel this way, but he draws blanks. Were you dating someone? Did something happen at school? His blood runs cold—did someone hurt you?
“Did something happen?”
He hears a slight knock at the door and his head snaps up, his gaze meeting Dick’s. Dick gestures for him to leave the room, Jason giving a slight nod to you in response. Dick raises his eyebrows and gestures once again.
“Hang in there,” he says quietly before slipping out of your room to see what he wants.
He closes the door behind him with a click, following Dick down to the Batcave. Neither of them dare speak until they’re beneath the mansion and far enough away that you couldn’t possibly hear them.
“What’s going on?”
Dick sighs, “there was an…incident tonight.”
“What? What kind of incident? Did someone hurt y/n?” Rage grows in the pit of Jason’s stomach, threatening to boil over.
“Yes,” Bruce’s gruff voice cuts in.
Jason doesn’t even care that he’s still wearing his bloodstained clothes. He doesn’t care about anything other than you right now.
“What happened?”
“We don’t know details, all we know is what we were told and what we caught on security cameras.” Dick looks angry, a jarring sight for him. “Y/n was assaulted last night.”
Just like that, the rage bubbles over and Jason sees red. “Did we find the person who did it? Are they fucking dead yet or do I have to do it myself?”
He’s not even aware that he’s yelling, barely conscious of the words he’s saying. Not you, anyone but you. You did nothing to deserve this.
Bruce interrupts his spiralling. “We’re not killing anyone, Jason.”
“They can’t just get away with this!”
“They won’t,” Dick says in that stupid mediator voice that Jason has always hated. “They’ll go to prison and face the justice system.”
But Jason can tell from his eyes that Dick doesn’t believe that either.
“And what about y/n? They’re just supposed to live with the fact that this—this fucking abomination lives in the same city as us? What happens when they get released? What do we do then?”
Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’ll get y/n into therapy, okay? We will figure this out. But no one is killing anyone.”
Jason shares a split second look with Dick before barreling his way through them and heading back upstairs. “This is bullshit.”
He hears Bruce sigh behind him but he doesn’t care.
—
It’s three days later when Jason returns to the manor. He’s clean this time, dressed in fresh street clothes that aren’t bloodstained. He has a tote draped over one arm and a bouquet wrapped in brown paper in the other. He’s relieved when only Alfred seems to be in the mansion, sitting at the dining room table drinking tea.
“Good afternoon, Jason.” He glances at the flowers, “would you like me to prepare a vase?”
He nods. “That would be great.”
He stands by for a minute, watching the butler drink his tea. Alfred raises an eyebrow, not even glancing at the boy. “Y/n is in their room.”
“Thanks.”
Jason is nervous going up the stairs. He hasn’t seen you since that night when you were crying so hard you couldn’t breathe. He wanted to come back immediately, but he thought some breathing room would do you good. Plus, he had some business to take care of.
He stands outside your door for a minute before knocking gently. He waits patiently, hearing you shuffle softly to the door. When it swings open, that dull pain in his heart returns.
You’re dressed in a pair of pyjama pants and a Gotham PD shirt that most definitely belonged to Dick at some point. Your eyes are puffy but you don’t seem to be crying. Well, that’s a good sign.
“Jason,” you say softly, “you’re back.”
He gives you a half smile. He wasn’t sure if you would remember that he was even here, but you seemed almost pleased at his presence.
“Can we talk for a bit?” He asks.
“Oh, yeah.”
You let him into the room, going to sit in the corner of your bed. You tuck your chin in between your knees and Jason can’t help but notice how vulnerable you look.
“Door open or closed?”
It’s a simple question, but your shoulders come down from your ears and your jaw unclenches. “Open, please.”
He nods and swings the door fully open, going to sit on your desk chair. He sets his tote bag on your desk.
“These are for you,” he holds the bouquet of flowers out.
Your eyes light up at the black eyed susans and babies breath. You grab the bouquet from his hands and bring it up to your nose to smell them. The sweet aroma calms you.
“Thank you.”
He nods, leaning back in the chair. “How’ve you been?”
“Do you want the real answer?”
When Jason nods, you hesitate. You know out of everyone in the manor, he would be the most understanding of your feelings. He’s never been one to judge. But telling him everything you’ve been feeling is almost too much.
“I’m really angry.” You admit.
He stares at you, pretty blue eyes filled with nothing but understanding.
“Angry at everything, too. But I’m also scared and—and really paranoid. And I just wish—” you take a deep breath, “I don’t know.”
“There is nothing wrong with what you’re feeling right now,” he looks at you seriously. “And I mean nothing. Don’t be ashamed of any of the thoughts you’re having.”
“I want him dead,” you say suddenly.
You can’t bring yourself to look at him as soon as the words leave your mouth. All you’ve heard lately is how he’ll face the justice system and live a shitty life because of what he did. But that doesn’t feel like justice to you.
“He doesn’t deserve to live.”
Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. His words shouldn’t stun you, but they do. He’s the only one who seems to understand what you’re feeling, what you need.
“Bruce keeps saying he’ll go to prison and to trust the system but I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe knowing he’s living in Gotham. And what am I supposed to do then? Move? It’s not fair to me, Jason. It’s not fucking fair.”
He sighs, “you know how Bruce is. He doesn’t understand that there’s more than one way to achieve justice and peace. He’s scared of the darker stuff.”
You nod, tilting your head back to try and blink away your tears before they fall. You’ve known Bruce since you were barely a teenager, and you know far too well that the allure of darkness is too great for him to ever dabble in it.
“Believe me,” he says quietly. “When I heard about what happened, I wanted to kill that piece of shit. Hell, even Dick wanted to kill him.”
“But you don’t anymore?”
He hesitates before he says “no.”
“Oh,” you say, the tears finally falling down your cheeks.
You thought if anyone could understand, if anyone would agree with you, it would be Jason. You thought you were on the same side, but clearly you’re wrong.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s okay.”
“I-I thought you understood,” you sob out. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel okay again, not if he’s still alive.”
Jason’s own voice echoes in his head. But why? Why on God’s earth is he still alive? He sees so much of himself in you. So much anger and bitterness and resentment. And he knew what he needed when he was in that spot.
He reaches into his bag to pull out his phone. “I’m going to show you something, okay?”
“O-okay.”
Jason shuffles back until he’s sitting right next to you, giving you time to move away if you need to. He holds up his phone, the screen displaying a news article from early this morning.
‘Local Man Found Dead From Multiple Gunshot Wounds. Possible Gang Violence?’
Jason takes the phone away before you can see any pictures, shoving it in the back pocket of his jeans. He looks at you carefully, thoughts racing. He’s not sure how you’ll react.
The shock hits you first, and then the relief. “Is that—is that really…?”
You can’t bring yourself to say it. Instead, you look up at Jason with those vulnerable, tear filled eyes. The joy he feels at that spark of hope in your eyes could last him a lifetime.
“Yeah,” he swallows hard. “Yeah, it is.”
You practically pounce on him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. You can’t remember the last time you hugged him but you realize now that it’s been way too long. Jason squeezes you against him, the familiar scent of your hair calming every nerve in his body.
“Thank you,” you sob. “Oh my god, thank you.”
Jason gently rubs your back, nodding into your shoulder. He can’t help but tear up too.
You pull away, a shocked expression on your face. “I—I thought I would feel all better if he died but….”
“I know. But it’s going to take some time and that is okay. And now he’s fucking dead and he’ll never hurt you again. Okay?”
You burst into tears again and collapse into his arms. Jason holds you tightly to his chest, mumbling reassurance into your ear. You don’t feel completely better, but you feel safe, and for now, that’s more than enough.
—
It’s later that night when Jason sees Bruce again.
He doesn’t feel the nerves he usually does. He knows he’s seen the news by now and figured out it’s him, but he could care less what the man thinks. He tries to mind his business and avoid the wrath he’s so used to.
Everyone told him the same thing. That he did the right thing, that he did what no one else could. Even Dick had given him a giant hug, much to Jason’s annoyance.
“Jason.”
He freezes at the familiar raspy voice, spinning on his heel to face his adoptive father.
Bruce nods and places a hand on his shoulder. “You did the right thing.”
#jason todd x reader#jason todd#jason todd x you#jason todd angst#jason todd hurt/comfort#red hood angst#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood#hurt/comfort#angst#batfam#batfam x reader
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Mockingjay - Part 7
Hi guys :)
I don't have anything to say for this one, just be careful about the triggers warning.
Enjoy!
TW : Death, blood, murders, face injury, injuries in general.
Chapter before
“Ona”
Ona frowns and stirs, being awakened in her sleep. She knows that voice and it’s what finally really wakes up.
Opening her eyes, she finds herself right in front of Jana. The girl is smiling, looking as peaceful and sweet as she always has been. Ona stands up abruptly, almost falling in the process.
“What are you doing here? Wait, am I dead?” she starts to panic.
Ona looks around her anxiously, trying to learn what is happening. There is nothing around them but trees. The last thing she remembers is falling asleep on the tree with Teagan next to her, when the boy assured her that he had slept enough.
“You’re not dead” Jana smiles at her.
Ona nods, still wondering what the hell is happening. But if it’s a dream, it’s the first time she dreams about Jana while being almost conscious about what is happening. Jana is still looking at her, smiling. She seems so peaceful, with her hair in the usual braid she was wearing every day. Jana doesn’t talk, she just keeps looking at Ona.
Seconds pass and it’s maybe time to say things she says while she talks to her, Ona thinks. But what to begin with?
“Jana, I’m so sorry” Ona says, taking a step to be closer to her.
“About what?”
The question seems genuine. Jana tilts her head on the side, still looking at Ona with a real query.
“For not knowing how to protect you, I guess? You were so young; it was so unfair…”
“It was” Jana smiles sadly. “I’m sorry that it made you suffer so much”
Ona shrugs, looking at her feet. Of course, she suffered from her girlfriend’s death, but she’s pretty sure she suffers very less than Jana herself. Imagine her being scared every single second is crushing her lungs. That’s why she’s trying to protect Teagan, Jana didn’t have someone to look after her when she was in that arena.
“But I’m okay now, you know. Plus, I had a happy life before all of this. I had a loving and caring family, amazing friends, and a perfect girlfriend.”
Ona smiles and raises her eyes again on her when Jana taps her feet with hers. Jana was sweet, but definitely a tease too. Something Ona loved very much.
“A lot of people from the Capitol or the career Districts don’t have that. I was lucky to have all of you.”
She seems sincere and for some reason it makes Ona feel a little lighter. Like if a weight was removed from her shoulders. Jana was right, it wasn’t maybe the perfect life, but at least they were happy.
“Why don’t you think your girlfriend hasn’t talked to you about her family yet?” Jana adds.
It catches Ona’s attention, and she feels herself blushing hard. Ona finds herself babbling about something she doesn’t understand herself, which seems to amuse Jana a lot. Seeming to take pity on Ona, Jana finally interrupted her.
“Ona I’m not mad, please breathe” the girl giggles.
Ona obliges and takes a big breath, trying to calm her nerfs.
“You’re not?” Ona whispers.
“Of course not. You deserve happiness and if it’s with her it’s okay. She seems to be a great girl.”
“You talk like we are living on a peaceful island, not a war arena” Ona points out.
“You always have been the pessimist one” Jana rolls her eyes.
Ona rolls her eyes too. Even if Jana is right, optimism was never something very strong in her personality. But given the life they had, it can be understandable can’t it?
“You can survive this, Ona. I know it.”
“How?” Ona frowns.
“You wear my necklace. I’ll protect you.”
Ona looks at Jana for some more seconds. There is so much she wants to say to Jana, but just when she opens her mouth again, she hears someone else calling her.
“Ona. Ona!”
Ona wakes up in a burst, looking around her quickly again, panting heavily. Jana isn’t here anymore, she’s back on her tree with Teagan next to her. The boy seems uncomfortable next to her, making her wonder what is happening.
“I’m sorry, but you were whispering strange things. And I think an insect bit you.”
He points somewhere near Ona’s neck, and the girl mechanically puts her hand on it. She can feel the bite, hot under her fingers.
“What does the bite look like?” she asks Teagan.
“Like a stretched round, purple” he says, leaning a little bit to have a better look at it.
“Dreaming bees” Ona sighs. “They can cause hallucinations if they bite you. It can be very strong if the bee is adult, this one might have been a baby”
She rubs her neck softly, thinking a little more. She learned about those bees in survival classes, they are pretty hard to fight because they are hard to crush. And they usually live together, not alone.
“We probably should move from here, this bee probably isn’t alone. We can find another tree or go exploring. What do you think is better?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t go after the starting point, it’s a desert and I heard someone say that his teammates died of thirst.”
“Awful” Ona says, shivering.
If she can choose her death, she would rather it being during a fight or something. Dying from thirst or hunger must be really terrible. It made her think that she needs to fill her water again.
Teagan and Ona decided to wait until dusk before getting out of the tree, still looking around to be sure not to be bitten again.
“Did you make friends during training?” Teagan asks, when they are walking to the river.
“Friends? Not really…” Ona answers, her thoughts going to Lucy once again. “I mean, I liked Anna from the 9…”
“I saw you talking to Lucy Bronze several times too”
“When?” Ona frowns.
They haven’t talked a lot during training sessions, so she’s curious about the answer. Teagan smirks and shrugs before answering.
“In the hallways. I always found her intimidating” he admits.
“I’m sure she would love to hear that” Ona chuckles while they arrive at the river.
She then puts a finger on her lips, asking Teagan to be quiet. She remembers perfectly that Declan said that they were on the other side of the river, which means they could be everywhere. She would love to see Lucy again, but not with the risk of being killed.
Ona was filling her bottle, and Teagan was washing his hands when they heard the music announcing the deaths dashboard. Still with white pictures of the dead tributes. It’s still strange for Ona to think that those people are dead, killed by the ones still around her.
“Only two deaths” Teagan whispers. “How many people are still alive?”
Ona sits on a rock, trying to think.
“Well, us two. Tony, which makes three and the boy hunting you. And the six people of the career’s districts. I think the girls from the 12 and the 7 are still alive?”
“It makes 12 people, and we were 24 at first”
Ona nods softly. Deciding not to stay without doing anything, she starts to look around to find some fruit or something to eat. Teagan helps her, never too far from her. Ona is almost sure that he’s scared of the dark, but she decides not to tease him with that. Maybe she should reconsider her strategy and start to do her things in the daylight.
“Are those strawberries?” Teagan asks in disbelief.
Ona frowns, coming closer to have a look. She had strawberries in the Capitol for dessert from time to time. But those look a little bit smaller and different.
“I’m not sure” Ona answers. “Maybe we –“
She stops talking as soon as she hears it, but it’s too late. Someone is walking to them or running maybe. Teagan has heard them too considering his frightened face. Ona still takes Teagan to help him climb a tree, pushing his feet with both hands.
But it’s too late for her, she just has time to turn around to face the boy who was running after Teagan yesterday.
“Oh. Hi” he smirks. “Who were you talking to?”
“No one” Ona answers, standing a little straighter.
The boy arches an eyebrow and comes closer. That’s when Ona realizes that he’s holding a bloody knife. No doubt he already served. He keeps talking, but Ona doesn’t listen. She tries to think fast, asking herself what Alexia would do in this situation. She can run, she’s fast. But she knows that the boy is fast too. And strong.
She still can try to fight back, but it would probably be a very uneven fight.
Understanding that Ona isn’t listening to him anymore, the boy’s face changes and he jumps on her, taking her by surprise. Ona manages to avoid him with extreme accuracy, her reflexes still good despite the lack of sleep and food.
Ona realizes quickly that he might be stronger, but he’s slower than her. She learned during training not to be on the ground during a fight, but it looks like to her that jumping on his legs is a pretty good thing to try.
So, Ona tries, pushing with all the strength she has in her legs. It does work, the boy falls on the ground but still kicks Ona right in the face with his boots. The pain is immediate and strong, but Ona still manages to stand up. She wobbles a little, but her blurred vision allows her to realize that her opponent is trying to get back on his feet too. He seems mad with rage.
“You’re so dead” he spits.
Just when he takes a step in her direction, a noise above their head stops both of them. Ona just has the time to look up to see a big branch falling from the tree. Right on the boy’s head.
This has the merit of knocking him out half. He is lying on the ground, the branch next to him. Ona knows what to do, but it’s not easy. Her hands tremble when she grabs the branch, but her blows are sharp and precise, destined to leave no chance for the other boy. She knows she succeeded when she hears the sound of the cannon.
“Ona?”
The brunette raises her head, spotting Teagan sitting on another branch of the tree, just next to the one who fell before.
“Nice one, Kiddo” Ona says almost tiredly.
She feels… Empty. Throwing the branch a little further, she turns to the bag and the things that belonged to the boy. Next to her, Teagan jumps from the last branch, coming to have a look too.
Ona opens the bag and gets out the things that are in there. Another bottle, the knife obviously, bandages, a small landing net and a bowl. After having split the things in two, they both take a bag. Teagan insists that Ona takes the big knife.
“You should probably wash your wound, it looks painful” Teagan says.
Ona sighs but nods, getting closer to the river once again. She can’t see her face, but her left cheek is painful. She appreciates the feeling of something fresh against her face, but the pain is still here when she stands up again.
“You probably will have a black eye” Teagan informs her.
She shrugs, deciding not to pay attention to it. If this had been in everyday life, it would have probably changed. But here, she doesn’t care a bit. There’s worse. Their small chance of survival, for example.
“Should we go back to the forest?” Teagan asks.
Ona hesitates, biting her lips softly. She thought that she was safer in the forest, but she was wrong.
“Maybe we can go to the city. It might have houses a little bit more hidden than the big building I chose last time.”
With that, they start walking to go to the city. The walk seems longer to Ona, maybe because it’s during the night. Or maybe it’s because she’s still shocked by what happened. She knew that she would have to fight at some point, but Ona had not prepared herself psychologically for the feeling of killing. Despite her, his thoughts are with the family of this boy, people who loved him.
This time, they are coming from the other side and Ona sees small houses on a little hill. Which is perfect to see someone coming, if she doesn’t fall asleep of course. She wonders if she could fall asleep if she lays down somewhere. Probably.
They walk in silence and after having looked around to be sure that they were alone, Ona and Teagan chose a small light blue house. The windows are almost all closed with wooden panels, but some holes inside allow them to be able to observe around.
The sun is lighting the sky when Teagan calls her, standing in front of the windows.
“Look at the lake” he points.
Ona looks and frowns. There is effectively a lake here, one she hasn’t seen when she was in the city before. But what is strange is that the water is glowing.
“We’ll avoid going to go swimming there, I think” Ona smiles softly before turning in Tegan’s direction. “You must sleep a little. I’ll keep an eye on the area during this time.”
Teagan doesn’t wait before accepting Ona’s offer. He finds a spot on the wooden floor and lies on the blanket they have recovered from their adventures. In two minutes, he is out of the world and Ona can only see once again how young he is.
Ona sighs softly and sits on a cupboard, offering her a view around them. Everything seems so calm and peaceful, as if they aren’t in the middle of an arena. She froze suddenly when she heard something, like a wolf’s cry. But even if she looks everywhere, she can’t find anything.
Her thoughts go to Lucy again and she can’t help but wonder where she is right now. None of her teammates are dead for now and it looks like they are sticking together for now. Is she still on the other side of the river? If Ona was alone, maybe she would try to find her. Just to see her one last time before something bad happened to her. Ona knows she can’t win here, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to try. And she won’t give up either.
Her hand is stroking Jana’s pendant once again. She feels sad not to be able to talk to Lucy. She would like to talk to her about her dream with Jana, because even if it was a dream, Ona has the impression that it’s exactly what Jana would have said.
And to be honest, Ona wasn’t expecting that missing Lucy would be the hardest point of all this game.
Just when she wanted to look around the house a little more, she sees a little group of people walking in the direction of the lake. Frowning, she come closer to the window, trying to see who it is. It’s not Lucy, she knows it. But it looks like to her that it’s Declan with one of the twins and the girl Lucy wanted to kill when they were in the building the other day.
“What are they doing here?” she mumbles, coming closer.
Being careful not to be seen, Ona comes as close as possible to the windows. Now, the lake seems normal, it’s not glowing anymore. Ona frowns softly when she realizes that. Teagan wakes up while the trio is looking at the lake, talking and gesturing around.
Until both girls suddenly come closer to Declan while he’s looking at something on the shores of the lake. They push the poor boy, not giving him any chance to escape a fall in the lake.
An awful scream is heard just before silence. And the cannon.
“Did they… Did they just kill him?” Teagan mumbles, eyes wide.
Ona passes her tongue nervously on her lower lip before answering.
“It looks like it”
She’s scared. Not of those two girls, but she’s scared for Lucy. If they aren’t scared of killing Declan like this, what can they do to Lucy? She feels her head sting at the idea of something bad happening to the girl she loves.
“Wait, what is this?” Ona frowns.
There is something coming from the lake, like a fog floating in the air. It’s pale yellow and it looks like the girls saw it too. She hears Lilith screaming when the fog hits her, and that scream raises Ona’s hair on her head.
They take their bags and run outside, leaving as fast as possible. Looks like she always returns to the woods, Ona thinks. She grabs Teagan’s hand to make him run faster. When she turns around, she realizes that the city is now completely inside the yellow fog, and it makes her shiver.
They never heard about something like this during the trainings or the survival courses. Or at least Ona can’t remember it.
“What was that?” Teagan asks, out of breath, when they finally stop their run.
“I don’t know” Ona answers.
She opens her bag to grab her bottle of water and drink, relieved that they chose the river to have some water and not the lake.
“It looked like chemical smoke or something” Teagan mumbles.
“Yeah”
Scary as hell. She froze suddenly when she hears the cannon once again, looking around her as if she would have the name of the person who just died. But she knows she won’t, she will have to wait tonight. Was it Lucy? Can they betray her too?
“What are we doing now?” Teagan asks.
Ona thinks for some seconds, biting her lips. She wants to find Lucy now more than ever, but she knows it’s probably taking Teagan right to the death with her.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go there” she says, pointing to an area where she never went before. “I think I heard wolves from here.”
“Maybe” Teagan mumbles. “There is snow there”
Ona shivers at the idea. She has never seen snow before, but she’s not sure that she wants to see some in those conditions.
“First, I think we need to find out if the smog is still moving forward or not” Ona decides. “Then we will see.”
When Teagan nods, Ona helps him to go in one tree while she climbs another one. She goes as high as possible, wanting to have the best view possible. Ona needs several minutes to be high enough and have an open view. She can see the fog, but it seems still next to the city. She waits a little bit though, just to be sure.
“It’s okay, it’s not moving anymore” she says to Teagan when she reaches his high again.
The boy seems relieved about this information. Maybe they should go hiding somewhere else, but for once, Ona is tired. Mentally and physically. She doesn’t know where Lucy is, whether she’s safe or if she’s in danger.
“Who do you think will win the Games?”
Ona frowns at Teagan’s question. It’s a good one to be honest. It’s easier to answer now that a lot of them are already dead.
“I think… Lucy Bronze could be a good winner” Ona says slowly. “I mean, her brother already won and she’s strong”
“I would rather for her to win. Not Seth or someone else”
Ona nods only. If she could choose someone to win, she would choose Lucy, of course. While they were talking, Ona hears the same noise she heard the first day, when she was inside the building. Knowing what it is, she looks around to find the small metal box, smiling when she spots it.
When she opens it, she finds a small glass container.
“The message says it’s for your injury on your face” Teagan reads.
Ona looks at it and realizes that it isn’t the same handwriting as that day. The message isn’t from Alexia, which means that some sponsor made the choice to send her something to help her heal her injury.
Opening the container carefully, she finds an orange cream, smelling pretty good to be honest. She uses the mirror inside the box to put the cream at the right place. She grimaces when she sees her face. The cut seems deep, and her eye is swollen. The cream is cold, which alone is really appreciative.
Minutes after, they hear the song announcing the pictures of dead tributes. She frowns when she sees that Lilith is dead, apparently the fog was murderous. But that means that Lucy is still alive, and Ona can breathe again. Declan and Teagan’s chaser are also shown.
“So, still 9 people alive” Teagan breathes. “The two from the 1, Seth, Lucy, us, the girl from the 7 and the one from the 12. Do you think they are together?”
“I hope for them” Ona sighs. “Being alone must be terrifying.”
“Yeah… About that, I wanted to th –“ Teagan begins.
“Don’t’” Ona shakes her head. “No need to thank me. Plus, you saved my life earlier too. We are okay.”
It seems to reassure Teagan, who smiles proudly. It makes Ona smile back and the girl realizes that she hasn’t smiled a lot in this arena. Which is probably normal, though.
“So we’re teammates?” the young boy asks.
“We are” she smirks, before raising her fist for him to punch it.
Then they fall into silence, Ona closing her eyes for some seconds to try to rest a little. Her face hurts and she’s trying very hard not to touch her eyes.
“Can I ask you something?” Teagan asks, several minutes after.
Ona hums for only an answer, not opening her eyes for now. She doesn’t know why, but she has the feeling that the question has been in the boy’s mind for some time now.
“Why aren’t you fighting with Tony? I mean he’s strong and from what I heard; he was one of your brother’s friends? When you saved me the other day, I was waiting for you to tell me that you want to find him or something.”
Ona opens her eyes softly and looks at the boy, thinking of the best way to answer this question. She knows that now they are not as much as the beginning, there are a lot of risks that they are filmed. And she doesn’t want to make any problem for her family if Tony’s family sees this. Or Tony himself, if he wins this.
“I think we don't have the same view of things. It was obvious during the training already. He didn’t want to take our mentor’s opinions and advice. I did and I still do. Alexia told me to run away at the beginning and gave me some advice about how to survive in this based on my strengths. It worked pretty well for now. Plus, seeing we were separated at the beginning of the Games and our paths never crossed, I think it’s just fate.”
He nods thoughtfully, seeming to think about what Ona just answered him. She doesn’t want to say that she hates his behavior and that she’s still mad about the fact that he deprived her to spend more nights with Lucy to look at the stars.
“I’m glad. We would probably never have been teammates otherwise.”
“I’m glad too in that case” Ona grins.
Next Chapter
#woso imagine#woso fanfics#ona batlle#ona batlle imagine#lucy bronze#ona batlle x lucy bronze#lucy and ona#lucy bronze x ona batlle
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hello !! i would like to request a friends to lovers trope bucky fics recommendations if you could ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶
Friends to Lovers
masterlist | req masterlist
friends to lovers is one of my absolute favorite tropes🥺
* = contains smut
ONESHOT
The Key Jangle by @delaber
Sick and tired of your many recent bad dates, you’re dreading yet another Valentine’s Day alone. When Bucky offers to show you what a night out is supposed to look like according to him, you get to experience what it’s like to date your best friend.
A Date by @delaber
you have a date and Bucky’s not exactly happy about it.
you by @lovelybarnes
best friends to lovers
Drunk in Love by @bethdutten
you get a little drunk at one of tony’s celebratory after-mission parties. and bucky is there looking so fine and-- fuck it. you can’t keep your hands off him.
*Three Hundred by @adrinktostopyourthirst
Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?
Obvious by @babyboibucky
You and Bucky are more than friends but less than lovers.
until his last breath by @witchywithwhiskey
when your best friend finds you destroying all the stuffed animals your cheater boyfriend gave you, he comforts you and buys you a new one.
Aching by @bbyboybucket
After Reader gives Bucky a massage, he realizes how much he likes her touch. // Or a friends to lovers story.
cookies, kisses, and stuff by @stevebabey
Something had... shifted. Yet somehow, nothing had changed. You can’t put your finger on it, but sometime between then and now, there’s a difference. Well, that much was obvious — a lot of things had changed since Bucky and you became friends.
*long awaited by @muchadoaboutbucky
Bucky asks you to come over, just to hang out.
one bed, two buddies by @bucky-bucket-barnes
You’re out on a mission with Bucky and Sam. Everything operates as usual until the room you’re sharing with Bucky only has one bed for the two of you. You try not to make a big deal of it, but that’s a little difficult when you both have some unresolved feelings for the other.
*Need To Know by @kikixreverie
When your best friend starts acting strange and you're left confused about his feelings, Natasha manages to convince you to try to make him jealous, what could go wrong?
To Let You Win by @delaber
a sparring match between you and your best friend turns into something you’ve both been keeping under the surface when he refuses to let you lose the game
delicate by @mediocre-daydreams
to soften his reputation, natasha suggests that bucky find a plus one to tony's party. chaos ensues.
Can I Kiss You? by @lanadelreyscokewhor3
you have a crush on bucky, and he has one on you. who cares if youre best friends. best friends kiss ALL the time.. right?
11:59 pm, December 31 by @lunarbuck
You've been in love with your best friend Bucky Barnes since fourth grade, but to him, you're just his best friend. It's New Year's Eve, maybe tonight will be different.
a million summers by @intrepidacious
Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.
voldka on the rocks by @kinanabinks
when you find out that someone you slept with secretly took photos and videos of you during sex, you feel betrayed - but bucky won't stand by and let that happen to his best friend.
Be My Muse by @themorningsunshine
Muse - A person or spirit that gives an artist the desire to create things
*it’s just a kiss by @witchywithwhiskey
your best friend bucky barnes decides he wants to see what it'd be like if you two kissed.
long awaited by @muchadoaboutbucky
*drunk off you by @cunaeparker
asgardian liquor comes in clutch, sam’s a cockblock, and tony’s parties have a tendency to get spicy
Buttercup by @buckyalpine
A Little Less Restless by @majestyeverlasting
As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.
dear… whoever by @kashimos-hajime
a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries.
the trials and tribulations of getting Bucky Barnes a second date by @buckyarchives
Bucky hasn’t kissed someone since the 40s and he needs a little… practice.
SERIES
*The Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness
Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?
It’s All Fun and Games by @yikeswtfmate
A glimpse into Bucky and Y/N’s relationship, where they’re not together, but every single one of their friends would beg to differ.
*Ease My Mind by @buckyskorpion
Bucky Barnes is your best friend and, of course, you’re in love with him. But apparently Bucky is just fine with your platonic relationship - you’re going to have to do something about that.
Here Comes The…Ex? by @ghostofskywalker
Three years after you broke up, you received the one piece of mail that no girl ever wanted to receive from her ex: a wedding invitation. You weren’t even going to go, but all that changed when his best friend came barging back into your life and insisted that you accompany him to the event.
Best Boyfriend You’ve Never Had by @language-rxgers
When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.
*vacant mirrors by @whirlybirbs
shit’s been rough. shit was rough even before the blip. dr. hart shares an office with dr. raynor, and you share with waiting room with bucky barnes.
Make the Wave by @lostgirlmuseum
You invite both your best friend and your boyfriend to a three-day weekend getaway at a beach resort. This trip was meant to be relaxing, but tensions and jealousies rise as both Miles and Bucky fight for your attention.
.
d
#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes series#winter soldier x reader#best friend!bucky#bucky barnes friends to lovers#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#artist!bucky
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ok hear me out w this dark!finnick idea; post-74th everlark, snow’s trying to do damage control and tells finnick to date another victor, and finnick’s hesitance to date his former mentee— means ofc she’s picked :( it’s not like finnick would ever put on a show to get her purposefully picked, he’s totally a good mentor and he’s defiantly never thought of ruining her, but, might as well make the most of it
alternatively omg image finnick living through the rebel’s victory— but the aftermath of the takeover meant a lot of the ppl involved in the games (no matter how small apart they played) get to executed,, including the little capitol girl who was (barely) part of his team n helped him get ready (or mb his district escort, or just like a stylist idk). helpful, helpful finnick steps up n tells her he can totally help her but it’s going to involve her losing her capital ties n taking up his name (plus they really have to sell it, so good knows how far they’d have to go, but he’s always so willing n helpful)
these aren’t requests or anything, i haven’t slept in 30 hours and I watched like my nth finnick edit whilst procrastinating prepping for my applied physics final
first of all i know i always sleep at wild times but THIRTY HOURS?? BABY GO TO SLEEP!!!
second of all, i wish you the best on your physics final ❤️
third of all your mind works wonders!!
can you imagine him seeing her again for the first time after she’s picked?? imagine nervous finnick for the first time 😭
-
“just our luck huh? two idiots make fools of the capitol and we end up on damage control!” your voice was as always sweet and pretty. finnick wanted to bottle it up all for himself.
“who would’ve thought?” finnick smiled, the charm may have been turned on but god was he a mess inside.
“you look good finn, grown. how’ve you been?”
i’ve been patiently waiting for the next time i see you. he wondered if that would scare you off so he smiled instead, “waiting for my lovely mentor to show and she’s here now so great.” you giggled as your touched his bicep, and his pants felt tighter, god you were adorable. you may be older than him but he has grown, and now he towers over you, dwarfs you in comparison and he adores it.
“you look stunning per usual.” you grinned and took your dress in, a gorgeous baby blue dress, with tiny straps on each side and a slit on the right side. your neck looked oddly markable to finnick but he’d refrain for now. “and you look handsome, when’d that happen?” you teased him before pinching his cheek.
you still thought of him as the same little boy from four. he could tell, but he wasn’t a boy anymore and he’d show you that.
“who knows. now, we have people to see.” he linked his arm with yours as the two of you made your way from the foyer and into the den of the capitol, hungry eyes and touchy hands pounced at the opportunity to feel the capitols darling and diamond.
he would snap every hand if he could, you were his, even if you didn’t know it yet.
-
“yes. i’ll do it, i don’t want to- no i can’t die.” you were crying now and finnick felt bad, but you’d just agreed to marry him so he couldn’t care less.
“no tears honey, you get to live.” his voice was sweet and comforting, looking up at him you felt happy. you watched him grow up, you helped him through it and now he was helping you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful.
“thank you finnick really, you don’t have to do this.” he shook his head and wiped away your tears, “you’ve been by my side for so long it’s the least i could do y/n.” your teary eyes should’ve made him feel bad but the idea of your marriage had his own heart racing. and as you hugged him he felt his worries melt away.
you were locked in for life.
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TUA S4 thoughts.
Below, spoilers.
Okay. Lord gonna need some strength to get through this coherently.
Basics first:
The Music: Maybe 2-3 good songs. Dissapointing. Let's talk of a mo about Baby Shark: to me it wasn't funny, the song being such a social media present one in this world really took me out of the show. Yes sure the funnies of parents having to listen to kid music and them being stuck that way but I really wish they'd taken the time to make an original annoying jingle. TUA is usually such a delight for the ears that this hurt me bad! Plus they then kept changing whether the song was on or off, seemed like Diego could control it somewhat, but then why would he turn it back on for them riding into the final battle?
The Dialogue: Felt forced and cheap in places. They can use the word 'fuck' now and seem to therefor have decided they don't need to make the characters have witty insults for each other.
The 'Themes' of the show: Why has my quirky family drama been turned into a 90's romance film. Who asked for this. No.
The "Plot": When your own characters don't care about the plot for the sake of shindigs you think will be more entertaining then you know you fucked up. It made sense the first 2 series them having side quests. Less so in the third. Even less so now. Literally at times they had to say to each other 'oh yeah shouldn't we find Ben?' I'll be here in the corner raisining. Also they came up with these 'stages' for the apocalypse but had one guy throw up, a couple things go boom and then they merge, it was one of the least threatening depictions of apocalypse I've seen - though that could be that it wasn't shot in very interesting ways.
Also side note for why there were so many shots that started upside down and rotated? Like I get if Klaus is upside down, and yeah the umbrellas are inside out, but it (plus the Bennifer monster) gave me too many stranger things vibes.
Now the sub-cast:
Jennifer: Love that for 1/2 the protagonist of the apocalypse she had little to no love put into her character, I legit kept forgetting her and Ben were part of the storyline. I loved that she was birthed from the squid, but why put something eerie and cool like that in and make it have meant nothing? Such a waste.
The villains [Gene, Jean and Abigail/Psy(sp?)]: Whilst I liked the idea of memories infecting the timeline, literally all of these guys was Tell don't Show. And for a series with only six episodes I do not want my time wasted with some side-character villains getting a dance number over the main cast. Despicable. Also there were WAY too many villains here especially if you then also count Reggie as one. Literally make Jennifer be trying to link up with Ben and coercing him (then Viktor could break through to him briefly from past experience of a similar relationship - the symmetry is nice) and have Abbigail be pulling the strings. There were so many side characters of no import that I lost track of the main cast. Hell, make Kenny's Mom be the bad guy I'd have loved that! Also, I like that Abigail was somewhat evil, but then they tried to make her good too? No thank you. Pick a lane not everybody needs redemption.
Special RIP to Diego and Lila's twins that Never Even Got Names 💀 fucking hell that's lazy ass writing.
Now the main cast:
Viktor: He deserved better, why bother to introduce that he's had a girlfriend, slept through the entire town, and owns a bar when you then don't talk about any of it. He's told to 'grow up' it's so specific, what does it mean? Also since last we saw he was the sort of ride or die for his love type (with both Leonard and Sissy) this is a frustrating turn with no explanation. Also his whole fight with Reggie and getting things off his chest arc felt forced and not as well written to me. And his character seemed to have been given zero changes from the last 6 years. I miss when his powers actually had a sound element to them rather than just, Havoc from X Men hands. You're taking the Viktor out of my Viktor.
Allison: We have no explanation of how she and Klaus found each other and fell in together. No info of how she and Reggie parted ways. We only hear that 'Ray left her' and nothing else. She says no one wants her at the party but then seems to know Gracie? Has she talked with Any of them since? Nothing was addressed from the end of last season, or even referred to being addressed in the past. I don't see the point of her new powers, or any of them having slightly off or new powers when then some of them don't? Either way, her rumours are so classic and now she's floating people? I see the link and if they'd been developing new powers over 6 years fine but no. You're taking the Allison out of my Allison.
Luther: Praise be, I did like Luther this season. He mentioned Sloane (shock horror, a love interest from a time gone by being brought up?!?! In TUA!!??) he was cracking me up and was really being Best Boy. Although I felt a lot of his dialogue was flat, and it seemed really out of character for him to start attacking the piñata? I don't think we've ever seen him physically lash out unless angry? It looked to me like 'oh yeah here's another silly gimmick that will be a haha. Diego, sure. Luther, no. They also decided (not surprised but always so disappointed) to make him getting ape-i-fied again humorous and not the soul destroying thing it would be. Also, why was he ape-i-fied??? His ape-ness came from the serum not the marigolds? Generally though, I really did enjoy him this season.
Diego: Love that we're throwing every over used marriage-in-pieces trope in the book at these two. Love that. Especially as they seemed to have sorted out some of their communication issues. I get their trajectories but was so deeply, Deeply bored watching it. Diego was sadly pretty dislikable for the whole season, which was real sad because I had grown to love him. There were some funny moments don't get me wrong, he's got too much personality to be a boring character, but whilst they didn't have to have a perfect marriage it was so dull and in hindsight such an obvious set up for the bleh that was to come. Plus they threw in a 'don't make me turn this car around' type moment to show how 'he's a parent now look wow' but I can't imagine any of the siblings hearing that and not laughing at him.
Lila: Again, marriage and wrong-conclusions and it was so boring. She's such a fun character and she was reduced to 'ooo how can we make her be a cheater and with Five' Why do you even need to do that? I just feel sad about it. And it doesn't help that we Don't Know Two Of Her Kids Names and neither her nor Diego seem to think of them for however long they're on the road, and she mentions them only once in the 7years of subway hell and both of them seem relatively undistressed without them. Sure, parents do need a break, but if you don't care about the kids visibly you know for sure I the audience member ain't gonna. Also why the eye lasers save for again a brief gag? It makes no sense when she then also has mimics abilities?
Claire: Let's give Claire a side note at this point. I do so hate it when shows decide to make children their parent's brains and moral compasses, take little to no time to show any bond between parent and child until the last 2 episodes, and instead choose to spend that time showing us how naturally fractious a relationship they have. Love that, so much. Never seen it before really. I get it's normal, but when ever other part of the show is cookie cutter predictable I don't need this too. Give her an actual personality that isn't "the wise old rebellious teenager"
Ben: Wow. So glad that A) I had to hear a character explain crypto currency for me, so glad we wasted precious time of a 6 episode series on that. B) Ben had changed 0%. C) that he had Even Less input and impact at the end emotionally than in any previous season and this one was About Him! And do you know why? Because D) they basically used star-crossed-lovers-can't-help-ourselves and made him use every creepy stalker OTT moving way too fast line in the books especially when Jennifer at a lot of moments was verbally saying she wasn't into it.. Also why does he talk about her like he's a 12 yr old and, idk, it was a shame to have no real impact from him until the end when he's suddenly scared and pushing Viktor away to save him but we see no connection from him and Viktor previously as to why he'd listen it would make more sense if it had been Klaus or Luther at this point.
Klaus: Now, I know a lot of his storyline this season came from the comic, and sure it's good material, that should probably have been used Throughout the seasons rather than crammed into 1 day. But let's chat for a hot mo: Now I like that we got to see him be nasty rather than the precious uwu Klaus that I've been guilty of perceiving at times, and that we see some of the negative effects of addiction on the family for the first time. Great moments, important. BUT. I'd have felt his rage out at Allison and turn to drugs would have been a lot more impactful if they'd bothered to show him waking up to the sound of being screamed at, barely able to hear his siblings, struggling to focus on them and wanting to drown it out. But we don't get that, the horror of what this means for him. Then we proceed to got through this whole let's have him want to get shot by a drug dealer (don't quite get why - or how Claire knows he's immortal now? did the powers back thing ever come up??) have him kidnapped and forced to prostitute himself, take more drugs (but still use his powers?) Develop a new power though without using the comic's fun quirk that he has to take his shoes off, and then bury him alive. Wow. this guy had plenty going on, but sure. Then -he can save himself, I thought this might become something poignant - he's able to conjure the dog to Go to Allison and lead them there, but no, he just gets rescued again. Gee I wonder what grave he's in Mom? All I don't know Claire, how about the Only One That's Been Dug Up? I thought it was really interesting to see his moments as a teen with Allison, and how he was living with her and thought they handled the worry about death/germs etc thing well tbf. Though also how the hell did he get home from being 13 hrs away and why nobody cared to go with him was pretty low.
Five: Dear lord that moustache was awful and I'm glad they all called it creepy and he had no concept. I despise 2 things they did here: made it canon that he gets romantic with Lila. Made going back into the literal apocalypse that he spent time having flashbacks about barely if at all affect him - it's unsure if his hesitation going back into it the second time was hesitation to go in there, and that's what I hoped they would do, but then, no. no. Please, Pleeaasse don't take away this nice, safe space I had in this nice, safe 'you literally can't sexualise him with anyone it would be so problematic' character and say 'they held out 7 years but yeaaahhh they hook up.' don't see why it was needed. It didn't 'heal' him, it was a plot for conflict but I've got plenty of other conflict plots that can end with Lila and Diego fighting without having to make every damn character have a god damn love interest! I loved their bond before, it was so fun and special to see a male and female not have to fall in love, and they ruined it. And it was for nothing? And they didn't have time to make the 7 years feel like 7 years and it was lazy writing for cheap conflict in my opinion. I hated it, I hate that it's "canon". I don't think I can describe just how awful I found it and unnecessary. I also don't buy that Five would be willing to not drink the marigolds as much as the others, or that there would be a timeline full of given up fives that sit around a diner. It was fun to watch though. And up until they started the montage in the subway and we knew where it was going I was enjoying Five in this season. that boy has had such a shit life and this is how it ends?
I will say that the flashback to them as kids was my favourite part of this series. It's always good to have a little deeper insight into how they interacted as children but I do have some Opinions here too of course: Reggie saying 'you look ridiculous' to Viktor, no, he made their outfits? I felt that was lazy writing when Reggie in the past has laid into Viktor's insecurities much more keenly: 'That outfit is only for your brothers and sisters / we've been over this, you're not special take it off / I will not have you wasting time with frivolity when the Academy has important work to do, leave us." etc. Also I thought there might be something different about why they all forgot their Ben memories. It was brutal yes, which I appreciated, but I can't believe that these guys wouldn't see their father kill their brother and not One of them flip their shit? Idk, it was a little... good and bad I guess.
I think that's it for now, if anyone read this far then well done! I might write a fix it post in a bit for my own entertainment.
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Rich CEO Sungchan is married to an heiress. Their marriage didn’t start off as a business arrangement. As two young, hot, fit people, they were attracted to each other. But as the years went by, Sungchan became less and less attracted to the heiress. It doesn’t help that their sex life is vanilla. Their newborn was 100% a business arrangement. He’s secured an heir to the empire. Reader is hired as the stay-in nanny to help with the newborn. Most of the day she’s in the main mansion, tending to the newborn as the heiress tens to her socialite life. At night, she sleeps in the detached guest house. Sometimes, the nanny’s and Sungchan’s paths cross in the estate. 🌒 (all asks optional, dont feel pressured to respond)
God I've been in a Sungchan brain rot lately, I have a dumb!popular!Sungchan in the oven and now this, god, I've been well fed these days 🥴
I'm slowly answering the questions, sorry if sometimes I take too much time, it's a busy season where I work, but I love all ideas and mtl questions, so feel free to continue doing them, I'll try to answer them in my free time! 💕
I hope you like it, to be honest i already have a second part, my mind kept showing me other scenarios, so if you have any feedback is more than welcome!
TW and tags: dark!CEO!Sungchan, noncon, p in v, no protection, thigh fucking, fingering, breeding kink, squints of Sir Kink, plus size!nanny!reader
WC: sorry, wrote it in my phone and have no idea, but probably around 4k like usual.
Just a gift
He didn't notice your existence until he went to see his baby boy after a long work trip, he had gone to Japan to see a couple of his restaurants, leaving his wife with his child, trusting her to take care of him.
He didn't mind that she received help, he expected it since he knew she'd have to go to a couple events like always, but it seemed as if the woman he had married was getting busy on purpose to avoid taking care of their child, and that did bother him, but she'd do her job at some point, he hoped.
When he arrived he asked for his child and his wife, the maid told him the lady had gone out to a family reunion and the child was sleeping in his room, so he quickly tossed his tie aside, getting more comfortable, and walked to his newborn's room, calming himself to not get mad with his wife. It was a long way to that side of the mansion and he had asked for his things to be moved as near as possible to help in case anything happened, so he'd rest after checking on his baby. He had stopped sharing his bed with his wife a long time ago and they slept on different sides of the house, but now that they had a child, they couldn't avoid each other's presence anymore, or so he thought.
When he opened the door he expected to see his baby sleeping in his baby crib, carefully chosen by a professional, but what he saw left him without words.
You were there, in the dark room with just a limp light on, carrying his baby with your eyes closed while whispering sweet words "you're a lucky baby, I hope you grow up with as much love as wealth you'll receive, and become a great man". You held him with so much care, close to your chest, giving him all your warm.
And that made him hard.
In the moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew you existed to have a child, you were a mother, and he wanted to give you all the children you wanted. He had deduced you didn't have any children, how could such a sweet young thing like you have children already? You had so much love overflowing your words and movements, it wasn't possible.
He stopped himself, his mind running around a mile per second, imagining you in his bed with your legs up and his cock stuffing you, making you a real mother.
"Who are you?" He asked after a second, still at the door, not walking near you because he knew he'd get weak.
You opened your eyes in shock by the male voice, so deep into your own comfort with the baby you took care of. You looked at him and immediately recognized him, the same hair color and skin as the baby you were holding, also it was impossible to not know who he was, the owner of the household, and your boss you had no opportunity to meet until now, "Sir, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, I'm baby Sungchan's nanny" you smiled. He got drunk with the way your smile made your sweet cheeks chubbier, and your round body called him to get warm with it into your side, so welcoming.
He was sure your sweet pussy would easily accept him, would call for him, just like your eyes and lips did. You were such a sweet thing to the eye, of course you had to taste as sweet too, right?
"Sorry I wasn't notified with your presence, if you don't mind, could you tell me when did you start working here?" He talked, ignoring the pressure that started to bother him inside his pants.
"Oh, it hasn't been that long, maybe a month" you whispered, leaving his child into the crib, softly, slightly bending to not wake him up, showing Sungchan your precious and bubbly ass. God, he wanted to lift that long skirt and fuck you right there, his body was so hot it hurt.
He couldn't remember the last time he had sex, he knows it was with his wife when they conceived the small heir, and after that he got so busy with work and his new life as a father he didn't have time to visit the VIP brothel he used to visit before he and his wife had decided to have a son. He and his wife had a good start, both were equals in the relationship, they had the beauty and the status to be a perfect couple, but their feelings got colder with time, and at some point they just stopped being a real relationship, only staying together for the benefits it had. The sex had always been too vanilla for his liking, and after a couple of years he had decided to visit brothels instead of finding girls around, he didn't want a relationship, and he was sure anyone who wasn't paid to be with him would quickly catch unnecessary feelings for him.
"What do you mean a month? I left for Japan 2 weeks ago, does that mean you were almost 2 weeks here, with my child, and you didn't bother to present yourself to me? My wife has never told me about you" he was frowning his eyebrows behind you. You stood up properly again, bowing and saying sorry. "I don't want you to apologize, I want you to give me an explanation" his voice was getting higher and you looked alarmed behind you.
"Please Sir, let's not raise the voice in here, this is your son's room, not your office, let's have this conversation in another place" you replied. You were so calm, so put together, it started a fire inside his guts. He wanted to ravage you, look at tears falling down your cheeks and your pussy contracting around his fingers, convulsing and making a mess, and giving you the prize you deserved, because you were much more mother than his wife, who had never shown as much interest as you for his child, and you, in just an interaction, had shown more love and maturity than her.
"You're right, let's go to my office" he accepted. You walked in front of him and he watched your hips move with every step, the curve of your lower back going to your ass, was insane. He had never had interest in curvy bodies before, thinking that they were unhealthy, but now that he had a son with his wife, he realized your body was just different, softer, warmer, more breedable, he smiled.
When you arrived to his office he sat in his leather sofa, showing you with his eyes were you should seat, in front of him, in another sofa, with a little table between you. You did it, you sat and patted your skirt, with your straight back, pushing your tits in the way. He saw your sweet boobs push your floral white blouse, and your long baby blue skirt only enhanced the softness of your body. He licked his lips without you noticing and crossed his long legs.
You didn't feel small, but you felt watched, reason why you did your best to mantain eye contact.
So a feisty one, he thought, I like that.
You heard the clock ticking, too obvious in the silence. "What are you waiting for?" He asked.
"Sorry, it's my fault I didn't present myself to you, I should've done it, the lady said to not bother you because then you'd have an unapproachable actitud with your son, and my main interest, as wrong as it sounds, it's the wellness of your child, so I didn't want to push any buttons on you. Still, I'm sorry Sir, I have no excuses."
You sounded so pretty, making it seem as if you always thought about his son, he was sure you'd be a great wife one day, obedient but strong willed, soft and caring but protective.
However, that would have to wait, because he wanted you for him.
"I see, I'm afraid my wife has told you things that aren't a hundred percent true, I do get frustrated when I'm interrupted, but anyone who has direct contact with my child and has to bring me news about his wellbeing will never be a bother, I hope that from now on we mantain a better relationship, and thank you for taking care of my child in the meanwhile."
You looked up to him, you have never been treated so good by a parent before, always working for rich jerks, it was new for you to have such a notable gentleman talk to you like that. You smiled and nodded. "Thank you Sir, I'll take care of him as if it was my blood"
He smiled and dismissed you, you quickly left to go to your room on the attached house, excited to have met your boss.
He jerked off with your smile in his mind.
Days went by, he tried to tell himself that maybe it was better to just have a boss/worker relationship with you, to not surpass any line. But God you did it hard for him, now everyday before his son went to sleep and you to your room, you'd go with the baby in your arms to his office, so he could give him a goodnight kiss.
And he was dying to give you one too.
Everytime he saw you walking near his room in the morning, making sure his baby was always well fed, going around with your pretty flowy dresses and your tits that bounced everytime you moved. They would feed a child really well, he repeated on his mine, or maybe they already had milk? It was impossible to have those voluptuous boobs and not want a taste.
Still, he never did anything, not touching a hair on your head.
He repeated like a mantra that it was not okay, he needed you around because his wife had better things to do than take care of their boy, and his boy loved you so much, every day his laugh filled the empty corridors like a song, making an echo that made everyone that heard it smile.
Except his wife, of course.
"When are you coming back" he asked when he saw her taking a couple bags full of party clothes.
"I'm not sure, but it won't be more than a month" she hurried to go out. You were in the room with the baby, listening to the baby's mother leave without giving the small one a second glance, but you couldn't say anything, it wasn't your position to question the parents.
"If you leave that door, I swear, I'll take cards into the subject" he said angrily. "It's our child! You can't leave him like that! You have never breastfeeded him, not a single time!"
"It hurts, what do you want me to do? And he's being taken care just fine, I'll come back in a few weeks, you also travel a lot, why shouldn't I?" You heard him throwing things to the floor and flinched, you had never seen him get that angry before, he always had a smile on his face when you appeared.
Both their rooms were next to the baby's so you heard everything clearly, and when the baby started to cry you grabbed him and ran to the patio to calm him down.
An hour later you saw from the patio the lady leaving with a couple bags and dark sunglasses. He couldn't... You doubted. Could have he touch her? The same Sungchan you saw every morning and night and always kissed his son and talked to you with respect?
You shook your head, it wasn't any of your business. He came down a couple minutes later, fuming, and searched for you. You quickly answered "Sir, I'm here" You said after running to the backdoor that connected the house with the patio, you didn't dare to scream next to the baby. The baby was in the stroller, taking his daily nap, and you were beside him, sitting in one of the many benches. He walked with you to your seat, heat coming out of him, so hot you felt it in your back when he walked behind you, when he saw him there, his baby next to you now, and your confused gaze, he calmed down.
"I'm sorry you had to heard that, I've been having numerous fights with my wife since the baby was born... I just... I don't know what to do, it had never passed my mind that he wouldn't have his mother around, I always respected how serious my wife took his life and businesses" he looked down, you couldn't help but get soft for him.
"I'm sorry to hear that Sir, but let me assure this baby it's been well taken care of, not only by me, but by you, I had never seen a father so committed to his role before" you wanted to comfort him.
He smiled at your words "thank you".
Everything started to get even better, he visited his child more, and had started to give you bonuses and little gifts, did you have a favorite coffee? The kitchen had all the options you could ever need. You needed a new stroller for his kid? Take his credit card, don't even doubt of getting the best one. Did you like those little dresses, right? Well, one of his friends had a store you could visit, don't worry, it's just a gift.
Just a gift, just a gift, he always said, and you started to feel more and more uncomfortable with his attentions.
"Sorry Sir, I can't accept that" he was showing you a gold bracelet that matched his son's little necklace.
"Don't worry, it's nothing, just a gift" he smiled and tried to put in in your wrist.
You moved your hand away from his grip. "I shouldn't Sir, I-I don't think this is okay" you nervously said, you didn't want to think he had any ulterior motive to give them to you, but everyone else had started to look at you weirdly, and you heard how the staff talked behind you "she's gonna trap him", "she must be doing extra work to be on his good side", "someone should remind her he's married". It was all too much for you.
His eyes full of love changed. "Are you rejecting my gift? I choose it for you, if you don't accept it I have no option but to throw it out"
"No Sir, why-" you couldn't understand why his voice tone changed. "Can't you get your money back?"
"It has your name on it, and my boy's too, it was a set, I can't return it" he denied. You didn't know what to do, doubting if to accept it or not. He saw it in your face, you discussing with yourself, your doubt. He doesn't know why, but he got so mad, he didn't give you another second to doubt, and crushed the pretty box with his hands, to then throw it into the trash can next to the door, walking away without giving you a second glance.
You stayed there, in shock, not knowing what to do. You walked to the bin, empty, with only the crushed box inside, and took it out, you couldn't let something so valuable be dumped. You examinated it, gold with a little sun, matching the little star in the baby's necklace, your initial and the baby's in the back, so pretty, you had never received something so valuable before.
You left the boy sleeping and went to your room, feeling scared of going to his office to say goodnight like everyday.
Why didn't you? He stayed up for hours, waiting for you, and then after the clock sounded at midnight, he walked to see you in the guest house.
He had almost forgotten how the place looked, never finding a reason to visit the place until that moment.
Your room was in the second floor, the living room had the tv on and different bags on your table from all the shopping he sent you to do with his card, the little box he had choosen caught his attention too. He smiled, satisfied with your actions, you never disappointed him.
You were deep asleep, not feeling his presence. He watched you, you were wearing a white tank top that showed your nipples through the cheap fabric.
You shouldn't be wearing that, you should be covered in jewels and the best fabrics, he thought.
He got closer, watching your face. His hand moved on his own, he swears, he didn't mean to, but your skin was magnetic. His hand touched the strap of your tank top and moved it, your tits were so big they were about to spill over the clothes, and he wanted to move the bedsheet away to see what were you wearing down, so he did.
God, you wore nothing, only covering your pussy with your panties.
He saw shift your body, feeling the cold air touch you. You showed him your back, and when he saw your peachy ass he decided that was the night, that was the night you would become his.
He would take you, you wanted or not.
He had tried so hard, showering you with compliments and gifts, how could you reject him like that before? He felt so hurt, he did everything for you, how could you be so cold towards him?
You didn't leave him an option.
He pressed his body against yours, smelling your shampoo from the hair that covered your pillow. His hips touched your ass, his boner presenting itself and feeling your clothed skin.
His hand wanted to roam around but he didn't want to wake you up, so he did his best to softly move his hand to the front of your panties, hugging your side.
His hand entered the rim of your panties and felt the hair you had there, he liked that, a natural feeling, fertile.
The tip of his fingers caressed your little mount, smooth, like caramel. Your ass pressed more against him and he had to bite his lip to not moan, so much time had passed since the last time he fucked someone his body physically hurt him, he wanted to open your legs and push his dick immediately, but he had to enjoy you a bit more, all well done has its benefits, he reminded himself.
His fingers made circles on your clit, and your pussy, even with you asleep, started to respond to his touch.
Fuck, that's my girl, he thought.
It was getting wet, so wet, he moved his hand to his face and smelled you on his fingers. A little drop was about to fall and he decided to lick it, a mature flavor, like a woman that needed a man to break her.
That was it, that pushed all sanity out of him and he pulled down his slacks. The tip of his cock, red and furious, was leaking, and he pushed it between your thighs.
It was hard, your thighs were so thick they almost left no room for him, but you had already dripped enough to make it easier, and with the help of his spit on his dick he did it.
I want to put it in, I need to put it in, his mind was racing and his breath was getting more and more loud. You would wake up in any second, and he couldn't wait for it, he wanted to smash you to the mattress and fuck you like an animal, to cum inside and breed you like you deserved.
His pleads were heard and you opened your eyes, confused with what was going on, you felt the pressure between your legs, and your body hot and wet, but why? How?
"Sorry baby, It'll be quick, just once, okay?" He whispered behind you and you turned your head to look at him, he smiled at you and gave you a peck on the lips.
"What? What?" You asked, just waking up and regaining your senses. "Sir?"
Oh god, he loved when you called him Sir, always with that soft voice and those full lips.
He separated himself and moved you to your back, he quickly opened your legs and situated himself between them, pushing your underwear to the side, almost hurting you of how strongly he did it. he appreciated you hole for a good second, so plump and glowing even in darkness, ready for him.
He may not have noticed all your refusal, he had covered your mouth with his hand after the kiss, and when your hands started to punch his chest he simply smiled and grabbed your hands with his other hand. "Did you know that something was stolen from the mansion today?" You stopped punching him and looked at him, not understanding what was going on. "It was a bracelet, with my son and his mother's initial, gold, really expensive, and all the maids said they saw you wearing it" Your eyes shook, you tried to deny under his hand. "It's okay honey, I forgive you, you just need to be a good girl from now on, okay?" Tears fell down your cheeks, it was a gift! You repeated on your head.
It was just a gift, how could he used that to backfire you, it had his wife's initial, that was right, but it was your initial too!
"I'll move my hand okay, and then I'll fuck you, don't worry, I'm sure you'll like it" he murmured. The light of the night covered him, trespassing the white curtains, like he did in your room.
He moved his hand and you could talk, finally "you said it was a gift" you cried.
"It was, but you rejected it, didn't think that would hurt me? You should've accepted me while I was kind" his fingers were pounding your insides. You squirmed, sensitive, feeling his long fingers work you like nothing.
"I'm... Sorry, Sir" you tried to say. "Please"
"It's okay baby" he replaced his fingers with the tip of his dick "I accept your apology" he inserted it completely in a single thrust.
You opened your mouth, air leaving your lungs and insides moving to accept him, he was so big, your eyes got blurry with the pain tears.
He started slow, but quickly got bored of the pace, and when he had enough he pushed your legs up, watching his dick sink inside you deeper. He exhaled, it felt perfect, your nails on his forearms, hurting him, and your pussy insides caressing him. So perfect.
His hips moved harder, and then he was mating pressing you to the bed. You were so soft and inviting like he imagined. Your cunt was accepting him in a second, knowing he was good enough for you.
Your cheeks were wet with tears, those pretty cheeks, he wanted to slap them to make them even more flushed.
"My angel, you're gonna be the best mother" he said, cock pressing you harder to the mattress, you fell as if your body was sinking into it, moaning and holding yourself to his arms to not fall deeper, where? you didn't know, but you felt like you were about to.
"Please no, not inside" you begged, music to his ears. You tried to think about other things, how would you go after that, where would you hide, who could you ask for help. He saw you thinking too much and put one of his hands around your throat to shut up your pleas and the voices inside your head.
Not a single sound could leave your throat, and the air restriction made you dizzy. You slapped his hand so he'd let you breath again, but he didn't flinch. His pelvis ruthlessly smashing you with force, making your legs tremble.
"Mine, mine, forever mine" he bite his lip and smiled, pumping your insides, filling you with the thickest cum you've ever felt, so sticky it would certainly stay inside, adding to that, the way his hips didn't move away for a second, it would leave anyone pregnant.
He brushed off the hair over your face, and still with the hand on your throat, he left a soft kiss over your lips, still inside you.
You couldn't think properly, you hadn't realized you came when he put his hand on your neck, making a mess over the bed, and the last thing that passed through your mind before you passed out was that you would never accept a single gift from him again.
Except, nine months later, you'd recieve another one, obligated.
#riize x plus size reader#riize x reader#dark!riize#riize smut#sungchan x reader#dark!sungchan#sungchan smut
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A Taste of His Own Medicine- Simeon
Guess who's back, back again, back with sick-fic posts again! Sorry that it's taken me a god-awful amount of time to post an update after my little teaser. Life often has a way of trying to ruin things, but I'll be damned if I don't manage to claw my way out of the depths to finish my works one inching crawl at a time! Anyways, I pray that this was worth the wait! Please, enjoy!
Peace. These last few days, the whole of the Devildom seemed to be experiencing a lull of sorts. Curses, vengeful items, creatures from another world, monsters, mania, and overall magical mayhem felt as if they were in hibernation. Or at least giving you a wide berth. Or perhaps the brothers were repaying your sympathies, beating back problems with several well-intentioned sticks. A much needed break in your opinion. The stars shone brighter, and you had never slept deeper. It was quite like being on vacation despite you still spending most of your time holed up in the House of Lamentation. Even the brothers appeared to be quarreling less than usual. You’d even be tempted to say they were getting along. Yes…there was nothing exactly like this feeling of peace. You continued to rub the towel against the back of your head and neck as you moved down the hall, feeling nice and refreshed after a calming shower. It was rather late into the evening. Dinner was over with and everyone in the House had mostly moved into their respective rooms to get ready for the night. The last week or so had been so normal and blissful, you had completely forgotten about the several ‘events that shall-not-be-named’; a cheap title coined by the brothers to stave off embarrassment. One which you gladly accepted to avoid the risk of superstitiously summoning more incidents. There was something about fine health that you had forgotten to feel grateful for. In fact, you were quite excited to have another moment where you could just jump straight into bed, kick back, and enjoy the silence of the night.
So, with a gentle push of your door, you waltzed happily inside your room.
“Ah, there you are.”
The random sound of another voice had your muscles all jolt. You clutched at non-existent pearls (the towel would have to serve as ample replacement) as you caught your breath. A white head of hair and a small blond one. Two members of a home different than yours. Not exactly undesirable faces, but definitely unexpected ones. They both were sitting on your bed, feeling right at home as they set up a movie on your television, already in pajamas. As you raised an eyebrow, your eyes wandered down to two packed day-bags.
“I… Welcome?” There was clear confusion in your voice as you addressed them. Not to be rude or anything, but this was…your room as so many people seemed to forget. Maybe you should look into getting a plaque for your door… Plus, it wasn’t quite like these two to just show up unannounced. Solomon maybe, but Luke? Did they forget to invite you to a sleepover? A late-night tea party perhaps? The other human was hard at work getting himself settled and relaxed. On the other hand, the angel was avoiding your gaze a little, acting more fidgety than normal. “You both are here…why exactly?” you couldn’t help but ask.
At your question, the two guests looked at each other for a moment, like they were trying to determine who would answer. Both of them were stubbornly staring into each other’s souls. With a little bit of irritation, you cleared your throat, glaring at the more grown of the bunch. The sorcerer glanced back up at you and conceded. A little shrug was followed by a more slumped position as he leaned back against your pillows and started the show. To others, he would’ve come off as unbothered, but luckily you had come to know him better than that. There was a subtle frustrated tone to his voice, his limbs a bit stiff like he didn’t want to be resting, and his eyes seemed to be unfocused. There was something on his mind that was upsetting him, so his actions were attempting to overcompensate for his worries. “Let’s just say that the Hall is a little bit…overtaken at the moment.”
With a shake of your head, you sighed. One side shuffle brought you to stand in front of the screen in an attempt to get him to look at you. “That doesn’t tell me much of anything.” Begrudgingly, the movie was paused.
Then the angel spoke up. Luke stuttered at first, but then managed to find his words. A pillow was held tightly in his lap as he clutched it for comfort. “It’s Simeon! He- He’s been cursed!”
Panic seemed to flood your body. Your eyes went wide and your jaw opened just enough to prepare yourself for demanding more information. Cursed? Was it dangerous? Was he in trouble? Why were they both just sitting around when you all could be helping?! Or was it so bad that they had to escape to safety? However, before you lost yourself to stress, Solomon raised a hand. “Not a curse.” He rubbed away an itch at the end of his nose with one finger. “At least, I’m fairly positive it’s not.”
Luke didn’t appear entirely convinced. “But he’s…” Before finishing his thought, he just went silent. It was clear he was very concerned for his guardian, but didn’t know how to go about fixing it.
“In my expert opinion,” the human continued, “I believe he’s simply not feeling well.” A bitter sensation crossed over your tongue. “I noticed he was acting strangely a few days ago, but any time I tried to pry information out of him, he turned me down. And quite cleverly turned my attention elsewhere, might I add.” Familiar actions started to leave an itch in your brain. A creeping sort of dread covered your skin. But, as soon as you started to notice these details, you shook your head, flinging them off of you. Now wasn’t the time to be feeling that way. Solomon continued to explain the situation. “And then he began to…how do I put this? Become rather obsessive.” He narrowed his eyes a little and glanced downwards, looking at nothing in particular. “I didn’t think anything of it at first…” All the sudden, he sighed, his playful mask falling and turning quite somber and serious. “Simeon’s always been caring, clean, and precise, but its been as if those traits have been kicked up to exuberant levels. It started with just some extra angelic doting- you know how he is-, and then just a few hours ago, Simeon took it upon himself to start tearing the entirety of Purgatory Hall apart to deep clean it.”
Luke made a sad sort of sound, one that broke your heart. “We tried to help so it would go faster and be easier, but he wouldn’t let us.”
“Stubbornness isn’t inherently a demonic or mortal trait, it would seem,” Solomon quipped. “I tried talking him into getting some rest, but he didn’t appear to hear me. And I was…dissuaded from casting any spells.”
Two little eyebrows scrunched up in irritation. “No using magic on Simeon! He always tells us that we shouldn’t force someone into doing what they don’t want to do!” But, even as Luke exclaimed it, he couldn’t help but let a bit of shuddering doubt slip into his voice.
“Well…” The immortal man appeared a bit guilty. “I just hope he doesn’t get himself into trouble trying to potentially clean my room…”
That dug in a different sort of fear… You glanced at the both of them and sighed, glancing out the window. Simeon… If he wasn’t feeling well, why was he trying to convince everyone otherwise? Well, the reason why didn’t particularly matter. If this was…him being sick, he needed rest. The angel probably knew that deep down, but maybe it had been too long since he put his needs above anyone else’s. You’d just have to remind him that self-care wasn’t inherently selfishness. Enough of your own self-pity! You had been given enough of a break. Besides, since when did you get the chance to take care of an angel, especially one so kind and lovely at that? Yes! You were back in business! “Alright!” you exclaimed a little too loudly, almost making your guests jump. “Leave him to me!”
Solomon processed your words before he smiled. “I knew we could count on you.” Cheeky little… So that was why they were here in your room and not over at the castle which had enough rooms to house a gala. Ah well, he could be lectured later.
“Try not to destroy my own room while I’m gone…”
“No promises!"
After a short jog- more like a speed walk- you were in front of Purgatory Hall. For some reason, you expected some sort of… cursed aura to spring from the place, but it stood as it normally did. Fingers crossed that the lack of one meant that Simeon had yet to get his hand on any of the myriad of dangerous items Solomon possessed. Hands tucked inside the pockets of your jacket, you approached the front door. Part of you wanted to immediately let yourself in, but you kept yourself restrained. Not only was knocking first good manners, but you also weren’t quite sure of the state Simeon was in. Hopefully an easier one than the brothers had been. Your knuckles drummed the door a few times. There was no answer. You attempted the doorbell next. Aside from the haunting ringing echoing inside, there was nothing… Normally, that would’ve been concerning, but if you tilted your ear near the door, you could clearly hear some ruckus inside. Sounded like the tooth-achingly familiar squeak of furniture being moved across the hardwood floors. Once more you knocked. “Hello? Simeon? Can you hear me?” The following silence spoke volumes. “I’m coming in then,” you warned, giving the angel a few more moments before opening the front door.
Stepping inside the entrance hall, you could feel floods of angelic magic filling the halls, along with the smell of several cleaning products and also…cookies? The sugary scent mingling with the chemically one made your stomach churn a bit. The sight was also rather overwhelming. When Solomon mentioned the Hall being torn apart, you thought perhaps he was being melodramatic. However, one glance from by the door suggested otherwise. Furniture was pushed from their spots and tipped over, paintings were pulled off of walls and laid out on the floor, blankets and towels and sheets and cloths and clothes were hanging to dry on wires that were strung back and forth in zig-zag patterns across the walls. No wonder Solomon and Luke absconded away.
“Simeon?” You called out again, ducking under some of the clothes as you pushed through the rest of the dorm. The sound of rather aggressive cleaning seemed to get louder as you approached the kitchen, the obnoxious noise of clanging silverware making you cringe.
The kitchen was in a rather right state. Cupboard doors thrown open, every single item pulled off the shelves, a worrisome teetering stack of dishes- that already looked clean, mind- piled in the sink. The room was much too bright, your eyes rapidly blinking as your brain mistakenly thought of sunlight. It took you longer than you’d like to admit to remember you were in the Devildom. The more you adjusted your focus, the more it became apparent that Simeon was the source of the radiance. It was hard to see him clearly, worried about the effects staring right at him would have on your vision. You walked further into the kitchen, stepping over several glistening feathers and loose parchment with scribbled works from his next project. Heat radiated out in all directions, feeling as if you were wading through a sauna.
Several times you called out to him, trying to announce your presence but not even getting a huff of acknowledgment from him. In fact, it seemed that he was completely oblivious to anything in general. The only thing he could do was flit about the room in a panicked state, his fingers raw from all the scrubbing and work he was doing. Some kind of stress response? “Simeon!” The voice that trembled its way from your throat was more frightened than you meant it to sound. But it couldn’t be helped. You had never seen Simeon quite like this before. Was it simply angelic duty intensified by a thousand? A cleanliness is next to godliness sort of deal? Or maybe he was too similar to Lucifer in the sense that he needed to fulfill some sense of obligation to feel ‘normal’. Who knew? It certainly didn’t matter in this moment. Your feet closed the distance between you two in seconds, leaping against him, arms tightening around the angel’s waist. Simeon’s body jolted as your forehead pressed against the skin of his exposed back. Much like the brothers when they had gotten sick, Simeon was much hotter than he should be. It nearly hurt you just to embrace him like this, quite like having your face much too close to an open flame. But you’d deal with it for just a little longer. “Please… Just stop for a moment.”
The hug seemed to put a screeching halt to his momentum. He’d probably been running on fumes for hours now, knowing that the moment he stopped was the moment he would collapse. Even now, his legs were shaking, his body working into overdrive just to keep himself steady. He wobbled and clutched onto one of the kitchen counters. The Celestial light in the room started to dim a little. “MC?…” Finally, he seemed to notice you. “I’m sorry…I didn’t hear you come in. S-Sit down…I’ll get you something to drink.” He attempted to shift in your grasp.
Your hold on him tightened, your fingers curling into the fabric of his warm clothes. You cleared your throat, trying to eliminate the earlier squeak in your voice. “You won’t be doing anything.” Even if you had felt like playing along, you had to wonder how he would do anything with the state the kitchen was in. It was all you could do to keep from imagining that giant pile of plates toppling down on top of him.
“I… Well, at least let me finish up in here. I don’t want to leave it like this for Solomon and Luke.”
Your eyes softened even though he wasn’t facing you. He really was out of it, wasn’t he? “They’re not here, Simeon.”
His back stiffened against you. “W-What?”
“They’re not here,” you reiterated, releasing your arms from around his sides and coming around to face him. Taking in his countenance sunk your heart. His well-kept hair was frazzled and flat, his skin dry, hands calloused. Ink and grime coated the inside of his fingernails. Typically, his eyes held a particular light in them, a small halo around his irises, but now that light was gone, dulled. “They came over to the House of Lamentation to tell me what was going on. They’re still there, worried for you…”
With that revealed to him, his face twisted into remorse. “They left? Because of me?… I didn’t mean…” A sigh left his chest as he stepped behind you, stuffing his hands into two oven mitts as he pulled a sheet of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind you. “I’ll at least go take these to them…” Even now he was still thinking about caring for others…
“Simeon.” With his name being called, he looked over his shoulder at you. You reached out and took both his wrists in your grasp, taking the mitts off his hands. After you put them on the counter- which was positively gleaming, by the by - you found yourself acting impulsively bold. Without thinking, your touch went to his cheeks, feeling the flush beneath his skin. You gently guided his head down to lean on your shoulder. You tilted your cheek to press against his temple, your palm tenderly resting on the back of his neck. For a moment, there was silence. A comfortable, knowing silence. “I know it might be rather shocking to discover, but those two can handle themselves. At least for a little while.” You managed to chuckle, but he didn’t seem to find it amusing. Or maybe he was simply feeling too miserable to muster any mirth. “Listen…don’t you start feeling guilty over stepping back from those responsibilities for a little while. Your worth isn’t measured by your output…if that makes sense…I’m not the best at impactful speeches. You understand where I’m getting at, don’t you? And you understand that I’m dragging you to bed regardless, right?”
Two arms wrapped around you and ran up your back. “You’re right…”
Despite the situation, you managed a big grin. “Yes, I am,” you chimed. “Let’s go now.” You took one of his hands firmly in yours, leading him through the labyrinth of his own making and towards his room. Unfortunately, his domain didn’t seem to escape the chaos. So, you sat him in a chair and worked to try to get things mostly in order. You pushed the bed-frame back up against the wall, plugged the side lamp back into the socket behind the nightstand, found the bedding hung up in the hallway, and even went so far as to fluff the pillows. When you proudly turned back towards the angel with your hands on your hips, you saw that while you were busy, he had discarded his shoes, cloak, and gloves.
Simeon pushed himself out of the chair and up on his feet, his hand curling around his forehead as he staggered towards the bed. You held out your arms precautiously. He practically flopped onto the mattress, his face temporarily buried into the comfort of a crisp cold pillow. It pained you to see him like this, and you had the sinking feeling that he was expending most of his efforts to hide as much of the sickness from you as he could. A few of your fingers worked on pushing some of the hair from his face. Even his locks were rather toasty. At the very least, he took in a nice deep breath. “Is it wrong…” he started, his voice drifting into a whisper, “…that I’m happy you’re here?”
Those words left you frozen for a while. You just stared down at him, resisting the urge to just hop into bed next to him and hold him next to you. “Why would it be wrong?”
“I…remember how tired you looked.” Your eyes went a little wide at his answer. “I remember thinking at the time how unfair it must’ve been for you. But then…when I first started feeling…under the weather…” His eyes glanced up at you, his arm twitching against his sheets like he had half a mind to reach out for you. “All I could think of was how nice it would be to have you here with me…”
Your lips parted as you went to speak, but no words came out. Guilt swirled in your soul a little. Had he really kept this all hush just for your sake? If that were the case though, he would’ve told the other members of Purgatory Hall, surely. He was partially right though, with the fact that it would do no one good if you wrung yourself dry trying to help someone else. Finally, you sat by his side in bed, pulling a cooled sheet over his body and rubbing his taut shoulders. “I did seem to go a little overboard in the care-taking aspect when the brothers all turned ill, you’re right… But, you can rest assured that I won’t push myself too hard by taking care of you… After all, you wouldn’t let me do such a thing, would you?” His expression seemed to brighten, taking hold of your hand and pressing it against his own face as he shook his head. “And don’t you worry. Tomorrow I’ll be summoning Solomon and Luke back home to help put the Hall back in one piece. So for now,” you leaned forward and embraced him, nearly cradling his head against your body, “rest, and prepare to be fully cared for just as you deserve.”
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me simeon#obey me simeon x reader#obey me simeon x mc
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THE STORM ⛈️ park gunwook
☆ pairing: high school student!gunwook x fem!reader
☆ genre: (slight??) angst, fluff,
☆ wc: 1.8k
☆ summary: your mind is a storm, spiraling like a hurricane, but at least you have someone ready to wait it out with you, no matter what happens.
☆ warnings: anxiety / social anxiety , reader has a panic attack (pls let me know if there are any i should add)
☆ note: this is my longest fic yet?!!!! not proofread
"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship." — Louisa May Alcott
You hate having to give presentations in class. So much so, you often skip class the day of your presentation because the thought of getting up in front of everyone makes you physically sick. Due to the amount of absences you were accruing because of this, you wanted to arrive early to school today to try and talk your way out of the presentation you were to give sometime today. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Unfortunately, today was not your lucky day.
When you slept 15 minutes past your alarm, only giving you 20 minutes to get ready and on your way, you thought it was just you being tired and when your hair straightener wouldn’t straighten how it always does, your excuse was that it was a hand-me-down from your older sister and it was getting old. But when your oatmeal was cold and you almost fell down the stairs on your way out the door, and you forgot your headphones at home, you decided that today, your luck (not that you normally have any) had run out.
When you got to school, you made a beeline directly towards the teacher’s office. When you got there, you found your teacher immediately and started walking towards him.
“Good morning, Y/n. What can I do for you this morning?” he asked you, eyes looking up at you from an email he was reading.
“Hi, Mr. Kim. You know those presentations we’re supposed to give today in class?” you mumbled. The frog in your throat was getting bigger by the minute and you didn’t know how much longer you could’ve stood there.
“Oh right! Thank you for reminding me! I completely forgot about those. What about ‘em?” You mentally kicked yourself. Another thing to add to the list of things that just couldn't go right. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.
“Right. Um, giving presentations makes me… uh… really um… nervous so I was wondering if I could maybe… uh… just come during lunch and just present to you instead of in front of the whole class.” You could already feel your usual day-of stomach ache coming on and it was not helping.
“I’m sorry, Y/n, but this is a really big part of your grade. Public speaking is very important for your future so you should get used to it. I’m sure everyone is nervous. Plus, I can’t go around making exceptions for people just because they’re nervous, now can I?” he questioned with an expectant look in his eyes. Unable to respond, you sighed quietly and drop your eyes to the hands fidgeting at your side.
“Oh... okay. I understand.” Honestly, you wondered if your day could get any worse?
Turns out, it could and just did.
“Hello, class!” Mr. Kim exclaims as he saunters into the room, smile on his face.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim.” the class less than enthusiastically says back to him.
“Aw, where’s the excitement?” Silence.
“Well …” he claps. “I had forgotten about your presentations today but was reminded about them this morning, thanks to Y/n!” he laughs. All 52 eyes in the class turn to look at you. You remember how you used to want to be Violet from The Incredibles when you were little and try to make yourself as invisible as possible. Maybe if you close your eyes, they’ll all disappear.
“Since you reminded me, why don’t you go first Y/n?” You hesitate and a second later, a hand shoots up. It’s the hand that belongs to the class president, your knight-in-shining armor, and the boy you’ve liked since the first day you joined this school, Park Gunwook.
“I’ll go first!” he announces and starts to walk up to the front of the classroom, hands carrying bright, neon-colored flashcards. You didn’t even prepare flashcards. You watch as he gives his presentation with the confidence only a scholar on the topic could have and when he’s done, you watch as he walks back to his seat and sit down.
“Would anyone else like to go?” Not a single hand raises. “Well, I guess it’s your turn then, Y/n.” You get up and silently shuffle to the front of the room, making a mental note of all of the eyes that travel with you on your way. You also can't help but notice how your hair and uniform are now slightly disheveled, a by-product from when you had to slump down in your seat in order to avoid the gazes of your classmates. Suddenly, you’re more self-conscious than ever, feeling the stare of every single person in the room bore into you. When you finally reach the front, you look out into the sea of eyes that are all staring right back at you.
You look down at your hands and fidget with your rings until you hear your teacher say that you can start when you’re ready. But what if you’ll never be ready? What if this fear of embarrassment, this fear that others will notice that your anxiousness and take advantage of it, never goes away?
“Um…” You feel your hands start to shake so you hide them in the pockets of your sweatshirt. “My project was on…. um…” You look up at the SMART board next to you that has the slide presentation you spent hours on, projected onto it. “It’s on …. um… Romeo- sorry… um … Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.” You look up at the people who could clearly care less about your or your presentation but somehow, your brain has you convinced that they can see your anxiety, as if it’s written in big, bold letters right across your forehead. You start to get overwhelmed and all it takes is a quick glance to the corner where you can see two girls look at you, laugh, and then start whispering to each other, for you to be running out the door.
You run and run and run until you reach the staircase, a place you know no one will be this time of day, and finally let the tears spill. You’re seemingly safe and yet the thoughts in your head spiral like a hurricane, wreaking havoc on your emotions, the peaceful citizens in your brain. Your lungs burn with an all consuming fire, never letting you catch your breath, not for even a millisecond. Your hands are still shaking and you swear your heart is beating so fast, you might even be having a heart attack. You’ve felt these all too familiar feelings before and yet, they’re still as strong as the first time. Everything other than the hurricane is gone and yet, you can still feel a tap on your shoulder, a tap that alerts you of the presence of another being standing on the outside of your storm.
“Y/N, are you okay?” the person asks, worried laced in their words. You could recognize this voice from anywhere.
“Do I look okay?!” you yell, louder than intended. Gunwook recoils, words hitting him like cold water. Your storm widens and he's caught in the crossfire.
“Ok, I probably deserved that. Hey, it’s okay.” he says softly as if he’s trying not to scare you away. “Just breathe with me.” Inhale. Exhale. “Again.” Inhale, exhale. You feel your breathing start to return to normal but even still, you can’t seem to escape the storm. The boy sits down next to you and pats his shoulder. You lay your head down and cry on his shoulder for what feels like an eternity.
You sit up and look at his tear-stained shoulder. “Oh my god, I am so sorry." Embarassment floods your senses and a second wave of tears start to fall. Gunwook wraps his arms around you as if he's trying to protect you from the dangerous winds of your storm, now surrounding you both.
“Hey, no. It’s okay, I promise. No need to apologize. I completely understand how you feel. You might not believe me but trust me, I’ve gotten really good at hiding it. I don’t know if you noticed but while I was up there, my hands were shaking like crazy.”
As he talks, you feel your storm get smaller and smaller until it’s only just a little, tiny rain cloud floating above your head. You pull away and look him in the eyes.
“Why’d you chase after me?” you question, still looking into his warm, brown eyes. He looks right back into yours and wipes away a tear-shaped raindrop running down your cheek.
“Because I was worried about you, Y/N.”
“Why were you worried? I mean look at me, I've never been better.”
Gunwook laughs, and his laugh is a sound you're convinced is your new favorite. “What do you mean why? If the girl I like runs out of the classroom crying, obviously I’m going to be worried …. wait a second…..” He looks away to hide his cheeks, but his red ears are a dead giveaway.
“The girl you what?!”
“Shit. I’m sorry if that just made this awkward. I mean you said it yourself, we’re not really friends so I don’t blame you at all if you want me to leave. You know what, I’ll just go.” As he gets up and starts to walk back in the direction of your classroom, you grab his hand.
“Don’t I get to say my piece now?” Gunwook pauses and you take this as a sign to continue. “Remember when you were assigned to show me around the school because I was new? That was the day I spilled my strawberry milk all over you. I felt so bad and kept apologizing but you insisted that it was actually your fault because you bumped into me. You even bought me a new one from the cafeteria. Instead of making me feel embarrassed or humiliated, you comforted me, saying that it was okay because you had been looking for an excuse to get a new jacket. To this day, no one has ever done something for me like that.”
Gunwook laughs and the smile you’ve come to love appears on his face. “I remember that day like it was yesterday. The entire time I was with you, I was so nervous. I mean how could I not be? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Every time you smiled, my heart skipped a beat.”
“How come you never told me how you felt?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was scared. It’s a lot easier to stay quiet about it than have to deal with rejection.” Gunwook responds, sadness written all over his face.
“Who says I would’ve rejected you?” You say and smile for the first time that day.
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