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fortuositywritings · 3 years ago

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Tattoo Heart

Summary: Tony and you make a dumb drunk decision. He gives you a tattoo.

“Um, what the hell, Tony! You said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not! It’s well-proportioned. Really it’s the best heart I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It could have been worse.”

“The heart isn’t the problem. You tattooed Wanda’s name on it!”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re mad.”

You poked your sore arm. Out of all places, he had to tattoo it on your arm above your elbow where everyone could see. Talk about bad placement.

You pout, “How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Baseball tee’s could make a comeback. You’ll be a trendsetter,” he suggests, not helping at all.

You glare at him. “You’re paying for it to be removed.”

“I expected no less,” he concedes. You’re still touching the tender spot, frowning. He stops you. “Poking it is not going to make it go away.”

“Fuck! I’m never getting drunk with you again,” you vow.

“You say that now, but come Friday night, whiteclaw in hand, you’ll have no recollection of this ever happening.”

“Getting a tattoo with your crush’s name on it is kind of hard to forget, Tony,” you spit out. He wears a sheepish smile. Speaking of the party on Friday, “Shit!”

“What?” Tony asks, clearly not processing the situation you’re in as fast as you are.

“Wanda’s gonna be there,” you remember.

“Well, yeah. It’s Pietro’s birthday party and they’re twins so,” he comments sarcastically.

“It’s a pool party. How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Just don’t get in the pool. Or you know what, just don’t go. Say you got sick,” Tony suggests.

“I can’t do that. She expects me to be there and I don’t want to let her down on her birthday,” you explain. Wanda had personally invited you to her party, saying you were going to be her partner for beer pong.

“Fine. Don’t worry about it too much. We have all week to figure something out,” he reasons. You guess he’s right. No use in stressing too much.

Friday afternoon comes too fast.

You’re stressing as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look ridiculous.

“You’re literally a genius and this was the best you could come up with?” you complain. You already feel yourself sweating. You hadn’t thought of what to wear. You only had your one piece bathing suit. Tony told you he had something and you trusted him. What he brought you, a long sleeve rashguard to wear over your bathing suit.

“Makeup was just going to wash off. We couldn’t chance it. This way, you can get in the pool,” he says.

“I look like I’m going surfing, not a pool party,” you huff.

“You look fine. If anyone asks, you burn easily. Now let’s go. Your girlfriend is waiting on you,” he rushes you along, grabbing your stuff for you. You throw on some shorts and slip on some sandals.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you mumble, blushing as he pushes you out the door.

“Oh, I know. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if she was.” He closes the door.

Pietro opens the door for you and Tony. You both hug him and congratulate him on another year of being on this earth or as Tony puts it, “Congrats on being one year closer to death!”

Technically, their birthday is tomorrow but they always have a birthday dinner with their parents, so they celebrate with their friends either the day before or after. You and Tony hand Pietro your present for him.

“Just don’t open it in front of your parents,” you warn. He decides to unwrap it right then. You roll your eyes at his impatience to wait until tomorrow. To his satisfaction it’s running shoes with a bottle of alcohol in each shoe. He laughs, thanking you for his present. He notices you looking around, searching for a certain somebody. He already knows who you’re looking for.

“She’s in the kitchen,” he tells you, a smirk appearing on his face when you blush at being so obvious. You thank him and go find Wanda.

As Pietro said, she is in the kitchen fixing some appetizers to bring outside. What you weren’t prepared for was her already in her bikini, like she’s ready to jump into the pool. Her two piece bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination but you’re quite the daydreamer it seems. You’re snapped out of your trance by Wanda clearing her throat.

She wears a smirk much like her brother’s and you splutter an embarrassed, “H-hi! Happy Birthday. You, uh, you look good. Great! You look ready for the pool.”

She smiles, amused by your awkwardness. “Thank you. You look ready for the beach.”

You blush. “Yeah, I burn easily,” you lie and quickly move on, handing her the present you got her. “Here.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, but you shake your head. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You can open it now if you want. Your brother did.”

“Unlike my brother, I can wait. Let me go put it in my room. I’ll be right back. Wait here,” she requests. You nod and she leaves with her present. You respectfully turn your gaze to the appetizers, not wanting to ogle her backside.

“Cowabunga, dude! What the hell are you wearing?”

“No way. I almost wore the same thing. Good thing I didn’t or that would be embarrassing.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to see Sam and Rhodey, both clearly amused by their own jokes. You give them an unimpressed look and they laugh harder.

“Haha. So very funny,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N, why are you wearing that? It’s like a thousand degrees,” Rhodey asks.

“Maybe I’m insecure and you guys laughing just makes me feel worse? Maybe thought of that?” you retort, but neither buy it. They look at each other and start laughing.

“Insecure, my ass. You almost give Tony Stark a run for his money in the size of ego,” Sam says between laughs. You just roll your eyes.

Wanda returns to find the guys pressing you about the long sleeves.

“Hey, Wanda. I think you might have given Johnny Kapahala the wrong address. She’s gonna be late for the competition,” Sam jokes and you hate that you get the joke. Wanda doesn’t and looks adorably confused. All she knows is they’re referring to you so she looks at you for an explanation but you ignore her in order to throw your own remark.

“At least Johnny wasn’t afraid to swim at the beach,” you bite, making Rhodey and Wanda laugh and Sam take offense.

“There are sharks!” Sam defends himself, making you all laugh.

The three of you help Wanda bring out the appetizers to the backyard. They’ve got a table and a bunch of chairs laid around. Wanda asks if you’d like a drink and goes to fetch one for the two of you while you greet other friends.

“You didn’t want one?” You ask her when she returns with only one drink. “If we’re going to be beer pong partners, you can’t leave me drinking alone.”

She giggles and takes a swig from your drink. “Happy?” She asks when she returns the drink to you and smirks upon seeing the slight blush on your cheeks.

You get a few more remarks about the rashguard but with a few drinks in everyone’s system, the pool is more enticing than poking fun at you. You didn’t plan to get in the pool but with a simple “come on” from Wanda, you’re cannonball jumping into the deep end.

Once it’s dark, you all begin to vacate the pool in order to play games. You and Wanda play two games of beer pong seeing as neither of you are very good and you think you’ll surely be sick if you play another round.

You eat, you dance, you sit around and talk to your friends, and Wanda is with you the whole time. It’s midnight and you’re right beside her as everyone sings for her and Pietro. She hands you the first slice of cake, which you eat standing up just to stay next to her as she cuts a piece for everyone.

It’s nearing 2am as people begin to leave. Wanda and Pietro make sure everyone is getting home safely, either taking a LIFT or having a designated driver. You and Tony stay later to help the twins clean up, which they greatly appreciate.

Almost an hour later, the house looks as if there hadn’t been a party. You and Tony wish them happy birthday once more before he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The twins insist you two stay, that it is way too late and they’d feel better if you do.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows discreetly at you when Wanda invites you to sleep in her room. You spare him a warning glance before following Wanda to her room. She offers you some pajamas and hands you a long sleeved tshirt like you ask. You excuse her questioning glance saying you get cold at night.

You change in the bathroom. When you return, you find Wanda also in her pajamas sitting on her bed with the present you gave her earlier in her hand.

“You want to open that now?” You ask, amused at her eagerness to open it.

“I mean it is my birthday now,” she reasons. You nod, closing the door and going to sit next to her. “Or is this one of those ‘open when you’re alone’ presents?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of presents are those?”

“One of those romantic ones like in the movies that show that you’ve always loved me or something,” she replies. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden with the way she stares at you. She reads the nervousness on your face and takes pity, continuing, “Or a vibrator.”

You burst in giggles. “Damn it. How’d you know?” you joke.

It’s not a vibrator, obviously. You got her two necklaces, one gold with her name and the other sterling silver with her initials.

“I was going to just get you the gold one but then I thought maybe you wanted one to match all those rings you wear so, that’s why there are two,” you explain.

She puts the box aside and throws her arms around you, pulling you flush into her. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I could totally return those and get you a vibrator if that's what you want,” you laugh. She pulls back immediately, a frown on her face.

“No, they already have my name,” she protests, pulling a chuckle from you. She hands you the golden one that says ‘Wanda’ and asks, “Will you put this one on me?”

At your nod, she twists around, turning her back to you and sweeping her hair up. You struggle with the clasp a little due to your nervousness, but you get it. Had you paid closer attention, you would have noticed how Wanda shivered at your touch.

She turns back around and you admire her with your gift around her neck. “It looks great on you.”

She leans toward you again and you assume it’s to give you another hug, which you wouldn’t mind one bit, but she doesn’t move her head to the side the way one does to hug someone. Her nose bumps into yours and you realize she’s going to kiss you.

For some damn reason you pull away before her lips reach yours. She looks embarrassed and begins to apologize, “Sorry, I misread that. I thought with the present and the way you’ve been looking at me all day, shit.”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” you reassure her. She relaxes. “Can we try that again? I was just nervous, but I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wait.” You get up and make a show of shaking off the nerves and pumping yourself up before you sit back down. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She giggles, grabbing your face and pulling you into her, kissing the life out of you. She moves to lie back on the bed and you follow her lead. You’re kissing and it’s getting hot and she tugs on your shirt. You remove it without a second thought. You begin kissing down her neck pulling sweet noises when you leave a love bite. She gasps and grips your arm, right above your elbow.

You flinch in pain. The sudden intake of breath tips her off and she pulls her hand away. She asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

You remember the tattoo and the fact that it’s not so hidden right now. You start to panic. “Yep, why? Are you okay?”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but you kiss her with the intention to make her forget. A minute later, she does it again, grabbing right on that spot. You try not to, but she hears the small groan and she pulls away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” you lie.

“Then why do you flinch every time I grab your arm?” She moves to grab your arm again to prove a point but you move it away.

“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” you deny. She sits up and reaches for your arm. Once more you pull out of reach.

“Y/N, let me see your arm,” she demands.

“Okay.” You try to save yourself from some of the embarrassment by explaining, “But before you look, just know I did it on a drunken dare and I didn’t know until the day after what Tony actually wrote.”

That piques her curiosity and she shuffled around you to take a look at your arm. You can’t watch, so you hide your face behind the palm of your other hand. You expect her to either laugh at you or get upset, but moments pass and you don’t hear anything.

You get the nerve to look over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks indecisive about what she wants to say, but she doesn’t look mad. Finally, she says, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like me or not.”

You groan in embarrassment, hiding your face again. She laughs and pulls you into her as she lies back down. “Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough getting your crush’s name tattooed on you. I don’t need her to actually make fun of me.”

“Aww, you have a crush on me?” she coos.

You pull away, giving her a deadpan look. “No, I get girls’ names tattooed on me all the time.”

“Having your crush’s name tattooed is embarrassing,” she agrees.

You narrow your eyes, thinking she's just making fun of you now and that was the last thing you need but she continues, “So how about we say it’s your girlfriend’s name?”

Your eyes widen. Wanda bites her lip nervously, waiting for your answer, and that’s how you know she’s serious. You blush, “That would be less embarrassing.”

“I think so too. So what do you say?” She asks, wanting a clear answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answer.

She smiles and kisses you. You can’t help the giddy laughter that comes after.

“You know, he didn't do too bad. It’s pretty well-proportioned.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you

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abundanceofnots · 3 years ago

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The door to the darkened alley next to the Alibi Room opens behind him, letting out a jumble of voices and loud music. Mickey expected Ian to find him there sooner or later. That’s why he’s so surprised to see that it’s not his husband pushing the heavy door open with his hip, his hands occupied by holding two glasses of beer, but Tami, his—

Well, whatever they are to each other.

Strangers, mostly. Both holding the title of Gallagher family appendages—the husband and the baby mama—who occasionally shared a laugh over some Gallagher bullshit. But that has always been as far as their relationship went.

“Occupied,” he informs her curtly before he takes another drag of his cigarette.

Tami smiles, undeterred.

“I was actually looking for you,” she explains as she lets the door close behind her, cutting the sounds from the inside to mere thumps again.

“Look, if you’re already tired of your baby daddy’s dick, I can’t say I blame ya, but you’ll have to find someone else because, on principle, I don’t fuck Lip’s sloppy seconds—”

Tami makes a face. “Jesus fuck. Is that really the only reason you can think of why I might want to see you?”

His eyes dart around her head of hair as he tries to look at anywhere but her, suddenly feeling very tense.

“Yeah?”

“Well, fuck you, too. No, here, listen.” She passes him one of the beers. “I saw the way you looked back in there and thought you might wanna talk.”

Mickey’s felt sick all evening. Ever since their big announcement when Ian threw his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, squeezed him tight, and gave him that blinding grin before he told everyone the good news.

There was clapping and noise, so much fucking noise. People were reaching out their hands to tap him on the shoulder or shake his hand, and it made Mickey feel like those hands were all grasping his throat while his blood was pumping in his ears.

His plan was to spend the rest of the party here, where he could breathe again, chain-smoking his way through the ordeal. He thinks he’ll be sick if he drinks anything right now, but he takes the glass from Tami anyway.

“About?” he shoots back noncommittally.

“Why you’re scared.”

On instinct, Mickey scoffs out a laugh. “Fuck off, I ain’t scared.”

“Right,” Tami replies, giving him a pointed look over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip. “That why you’re hiding out here during your own party?”

“Just needed to—” Groaning in exasperation, Mickey pinches the bridge of his nose and composes himself. “I just needed a second away from everyone congratulatin’ me. Or callin’ me daddy Milkovich. Or fuckin’ Kermit asking if I was gonna be the mom or the dad—” He cuts himself off again, measuring Tami with a hard stare. “What’s it to you, anyway?

She responds with a sincere smile.

“Believe it or not, I was scared of having a baby, too.”

Mickey’s brows furrow in confusion. “That why you decided to have another?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not scared anymore.”

“Sounds fuckin’ stupid.”

“Maybe,” Tami admits with half a shrug.

They spend the next few minutes in silence, Tami drinking her beer and Mickey finishing his smoke, his own beer left untouched.

“But you’re a chick, you know, so it’s different,” Mickey states resolutely after he lights another cigarette, confident he’s found an argument she couldn’t dispute. “You have, like, all those motherly instincts and shit. I don’t.”

For some reason, she snorts and shakes her head. Then, her expression softens again, and she says, “I have it on good authority that there’s one little boy who basically worships the ground you walk on.”

“He’s five. Fuck does he know,” he retorts back derisively, immediately chastising himself because Freddie knew a lot, in fact. Most importantly, how to get underneath Mickey’s skin.

Not that he didn’t love and pester Ian just as much, obviously. Everyone loved Ian, the charming motherfucker. But Mickey and the kid had a special bond, much to Lip’s irritation.

Freddie was one of the main reasons Mickey decided that he was ready to have kids all those months ago. He isn’t so sure of it now, though.

He takes another drag and lets the smoke out through his nose.

“I never thought I’d be this,” he explains ambiguously, not just meaning being a guy who gives enough shit to smoke outside a bar. “Always knew how to survive. I was good at that. I was gonna see forty, most of it behind bars, maybe fifty, if I was lucky enough and didn’t lose a fuckin’ limb at some shitty construction job. And then, one day, I wake up to a tire iron to my spine—”

“If that’s a metaphor, I don’t follow.”

“—and next thing I know, I have a whole ass husband, a fuckin’ condo on the West Side like some yuppie, and I catch myself sayin’ things like, fuck it, let’s have a kid. What’s wrong with me? I can’t fuckin’ do this, can I?”

The truth he’ll never admit to anyone, probably, is that Tami’s right. He is scared. Fucking terrified, really. Because there’s a kid who will have him for a dad, and Mickey feels sorry for it.

The poor bastard isn’t even a proper baby yet. It’s just a sonogram stuck to their fridge. A baby-like matter that Ian’s app insists is the size of cauliflower now. When Mickey finally managed to spot one in Whole Foods, he found himself apologizing to it for some bizarre reason.

He doesn’t want to be like his dad. He wants to do this right, but he doesn’t know if he knows how.

“The most important thing?” Tami breaks the silence then, reading Mickey’s reaction correctly even when he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t bail on this kid. Or Ian, because he’ll need you to be there just as much.”

Mickey bites his cheek and nods. There’s a chance he’d say more, ask Tami for advice even, maybe, if, at that very second, Ian didn’t come out to join them, bursting out of the alleyway door as if summoned.

“There’s the pops-to-be!” he cheers a little too loudly with a smile that splits his whole face. He stumbles forward on clumsy feet and envelops Mickey tightly in his arms. “I was looking for you.”

“Fuckin’ octopus-man,” Mickey laughs, careful not to let the drunk idiot spill his beer. “How much did you have to drink?”

“Just a couple beers,” Ian answers as he nuzzles into Mickey’s neck.

“Such a fuckin’ lightweight.”

Humming his agreement, Ian snags Mickey’s glass and knocks down most of its contents in one go. He belches before saying in a low voice, “I was planning on dragging your ass to the bathroom later and having my way with you, but since we’re already here, alone...”

He already has his free hand palming at Mickey’s dick over his jeans when Tami makes a sound behind him, something between a snort and a cough.

Ian’s eyes take a minute to properly zero in on her.

“Tami! Hey!” he greets her with exaggerated excitement. “You’re here, too. Why are you here, too? Something wrong?”

Tami looks pointedly at Mickey. “Wanna tell him, or should I?”

He seriously considers being honest for a second, but his next words are out before he can stop them.

“Your brother’s girlfriend was tryna jump me.”

Tami almost chokes on the incredulous huff of laughter she lets out. She finishes her beer and shakes her head, staring Mickey down.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Mickey, I swear to God. Forget I ever said anything,” she barks at him as she goes for the door.

“Hey, Tami,” Mickey stops her last minute. “Thanks, or whatever.”

Tami rolls her eyes. Still, just before she slips back inside, she throws a quick smile over her shoulder.

“Did you just thank her for trying to fuck you?” Ian inquires stupidly when the door closes behind her.

“Sure,” Mickey sounds off without further explanation.

He turns back to his husband and lightly pats his cheek, letting his hand slide all the way down to his junk in hopes of pointing his attention in the right direction again. “So, about those plans you had—“

But all of a sudden, Ian’s white as a sheet, giving him a look of absolute horror.

“What?” Mickey asks, mirroring his look.

“Think I’m gonna puke.”

“’ Course you are,” Mickey has enough time to groan before Ian bends in half and proceeds to throw up on the sidewalk.

Mickey takes a few steps away, trying to give Ian some privacy, but he’s stopped by a hand clutching his wrist and pulling him back.

“I’m so sorry, Mick,” Ian says in between spits as his hand slides down to hold Mickey’s awkwardly.

“Hey, that’s okay,” Mickey tells him gently—just as gently as he strokes his back in big circles. “I’m here.”

#just 1.5k words with some post-canon much needed convo #that wouldn't leave my mind alone #my fics #shameless fanfiction #shameless fic

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the-modernmary · 4 years ago

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you’ll always know me || aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: "I would have stayed... If you asked me to.

After your high school graduation, you left without saying goodbye to Aaron Hotchner, your best friend, and nobody had heard from you since. Years later, you're back in DC, and catching up with Aaron brings more than you could have possibly hoped for.

Warnings: mentions of weed

A/N: I really wanted some soft Hotch content in my life after all the angst in my best habit, and this is about as soft as I can get. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "dorothea". Honestly, I was listening to evermore, blacked out for about three hours, and this is what came from that. There is no other explanation for this. It's written differently than my usual style, but I hope y'all like it still!

read on ao3 || masterlist

~~~~~~~

“What’s got you in such a rush?”

Rossi eyes Aaron carefully as the latter circles around his office, double and triple-checking that he didn’t forget anything. The last thing he wants is to have to come back to the office and cut his day short.

Aaron shoves a few case files in his briefcase. “An old friend from high school is in town and I’m meeting up with her.”

Rossi perks up at the word ‘her’ and he leans against the door frame. Aaron notices this, too, because he shakes his head quickly. “It’s not like that. We both got sent to boarding school for being problem children and we became quick friends. I haven’t talked to her since graduation. She just packed up her stuff and left the very next day.”

“You sound bitter,” Rossi points out.

“Not at all,” he lies, trying to forget the hurt of running to your dorm for your weekly breakfast together, only to be met with an empty room and a singular polaroid. “I knew she hated it there and her goal was to travel and see as many places as she could. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s back stateside at all. Last I heard, she was doing some art apprenticeship in Italy, but that was years ago.”

“You sound like you have a long evening ahead of you, so I’ll get out of your hair. And have some fun tonight, Aaron. You deserve it,” Rossi adds on as an afterthought.

The corners of Aaron's mouth lift slightly. “I will. Try not to let the building burn down while I’m gone. Reid is back on his physics magic kick, and I think I heard something about a lighter.”

Rossi gives Aaron a two-finger, half-hearted salute in acknowledgment, which is all it takes for Aaron to shut his office door and head towards the elevator. Knowing that you’re just outside, he has to make a conscious effort to slow his pace from an excited jog to just an anxious speed walk. The elevator ride is slow, seemingly stopping at every single floor on the way down, which gives his mind ample time to wander and think back to graduation day.

“There you are!” Aaron shouts from across the football field as he runs up to you, shoving through bustling groups of families trying to take pictures. He has so many stoles and cords and leis around his neck that you can barely see the suit he’s wearing underneath his gown. It’s a stark contrast to you, with only a singular chord for academic achievement, although a 3.2 wasn’t much of an achievement in the eyes of most people at boarding school.

“Here I am!” you laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug and breathing in the smell of his cologne.

“Where’re your parents? Didn’t they come?”

“Of course they didn’t. They’re not ones for celebrating something as trivial as high school graduation, not when it’s just expected of me.” You roll your eyes. “What about you? I thought you and Haley were going to do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing today?”

Aaron is oblivious to the bitterness in your voice, although that’s nothing new. “We are, but I just wanted to give these to you.” It’s then that you notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand, although it’s now being pressed into your arms. “As a congrats. And a thank you for being there for me this whole time. You’re my best friend.”

You try to ignore the ache in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Aaron. I… I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he waves it off. “If you want to get me something, breakfast is your treat tomorrow.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree, the smile coming back to your face. Selfishly, you don’t want him to go back to Haley or his family just yet. You want him to stay there with you so you don’t feel so lonely in the crowd of happy graduates. “God, I can’t believe you’re staying in D.C. for college. We always talked about getting out, seeing the world and never coming back.”

Aaron shrugs, and you watch as he brushes away a piece of his hair that falls into his face. “I’m hoping that going to GW for undergrad will make it easier to get into law school there.”

“And Haley Brooks is still here for another year,” you point out, half accusatory.

“Yeah, that, too.” Aaron chuckles uncomfortably before quickly switching the conversation. “What about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“There’s an art school in Glasgow I’m thinking of going to. But, you know… George Washington also has an art program. It’s pretty nice, too. I’m still deciding.” You trail off, looking straight into Aaron’s eyes, giving him every chance in the world to make the decision for you.

Aaron hesitates, fighting an internal battle. “Go to Glasgow!” he says, fake enthusiasm in his voice, but your disappointment blocks out anything but his actual words. “Then I’ll have an excuse to visit Scotland.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was leaning towards, too,” you lie. “Aaron, I—”

You’re cut off by a voice calling his name. You both turn around to see Haley Brooks waving him over, her other hand holding 7-year-old Sean’s hand. She looks like spring personified, her blonde hair in bouncy curls and her pink sundress swishing around her long, slender legs. Her smile is so big that it could have parted storm clouds, and you want nothing more than to hate her with every single fiber of your being.

But then you see Aaron, returning her megawatt smile with his own, one you rarely ever saw, and how can you hate somebody who makes him so happy?

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” he says, although there’s not even a hint of regret in his voice. “But I’ll see you for one last Sunday breakfast tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you then,” you lied.

How Aaron could have missed the signs of your unhappiness, he’ll never know. At that time, all he knew was that you left without ever saying goodbye, leaving behind only a polaroid of the two of you from your weekend trip to Virginia Beach, both of you drunk and laughing with your arms wrapped around each other. He still has it, buried in his nightstand somewhere, but he hasn’t had the courage to look at it for a few years now.

As Aaron steps out of the FBI building, he recognizes you instantly, even though it’s only the back of your head, and it causes his breath to catch in his throat. He calls your name and watches as you turn around, your hair whipping around you, and the fact that you still have that same mischievous glint in your eyes is enough to make him feel like he’s sixteen again and nervously skipping class with you holding his hand and pulling him towards the school gates.

“Aaron!” You jog up to him and throw your arms around him in a hug, which he happily reciprocates. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away, and Aaron’s entire face burns.

You keep your hands on his biceps, holding him at arm’s length, as you study him. He looks almost exactly the same as he did all those years ago, with soft hair and the slightest bit of stubble, but he looks less carefree. He seems more mature, like life had aged him 100 years. Still, as cute as high school Aaron was, it had nothing on how good he looks now. “Look at you, Mr. FBI, all suit and corporate-looking! I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ve changed quite a bit,” he admits, and the sight of his dimples makes you want to melt right there into the sidewalk. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you barely thought about me,” you joke, but hurt flashes through your eyes.

Aaron wants to argue, to tell you that he thinks about you all the time, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to spend the precious few hours he has with you bringing up old issues. “Are you hungry? Because there’s this diner a few blocks down with giant milkshakes.”

“Why are we still standing here, then? All you had to say was milkshakes, they’re my favorite.”

“I know. I remember,” he says, and that all-too-familiar pang in your heart comes back like it had never left. “Come on, we can walk and cut through a park.”

The two of you start your walk in comfortable silence, listening to the bustling city around you. Every once in a while, your hands would bump into his, and you were doing everything you could to ignore it.

“So did you ever go to that art school?” he asks suddenly, looking over at you.

You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. “I did. You were right, I loved Scotland.”

“Where did you go after that? Nobody heard from you.”

Your eyes sparkle as memories of your life the past few years flash through your mind. “Everywhere. Literally. I took a bunch of odd jobs and spent my time traveling,” you admitted. “I taught English in Vietnam for a year, worked on a cruise ship that went around South America, was an au pair for a French ambassador, went on research expeditions… Even dated a pilot for all of six months. Anything I could do that would let me see the world.” You laugh to yourself, shaking your head fondly. “I really put that private boarding school tuition to good use, huh? My parents were pissed.”

“It sounds like you were living the life you dreamed of,” Aaron says softly, looking down at you.

“It was,” you agree, your voice a little sad.

“So then why are you back here in DC?”

You shrug, your hands clasped behind your back, and you step down on a particularly crunchy leaf. “I’m just passing through. I’ve been going around the US and looking for a place to settle down. Finally. Figured I might as well put that art degree to good use. Maybe I’ll open a gallery or something.”

Aaron nods slowly as the chill of autumn runs through his bones. It’s nice, though, in a weird way. He’s always preferred the fall over spring. “Where have you looked so far?”

“Lots of places. San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Atlanta, San Antonio, Miami… I’m heading up to New York next. Nothing’s felt right so far. But enough about me, how are you? I heard you married Haley Brooks.”

That same bitterness you felt in high school when you talked about Haley comes back with a vengeance. It’s unfair, and you know that. How was Aaron supposed to know that you were practically in love with him in high school if you never told him? Even now, you’re sure that he hasn’t put together the pieces.

You watch as his gaze falls slightly. “I did. She died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you reach out to give his hand a small squeeze.

“We got divorced a little while before it happened,” he explains, unsure why it’s so important to him that you know that. “I blamed myself for it for a long time. But I’ve, uh… I’ve made peace with it now.”

You give him a comforting smile, fully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. “Aaron Hotchner, making peace with something in his life? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Aaron chuckles and bumps his shoulder to yours. “I’ve been known to do it a few times. But only a few. Haley and I have a son, though. His name is Jack. He’s 8 now.”

You shake your head in disbelief, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “And you’re a father? Wow, you really have changed.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks, and you shake your head wordlessly.

“I like every version of Aaron Hotchner,” you promise. “Besides, change is a good thing. Especially since this city hasn’t changed a bit.”

Aaron looks around, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s seeing DC for the very first time. “It’s actually changed quite a bit. But it’s subtle. Only people who have been here as long as I have would even notice it, probably.”

The words cut through you both as a painful reminder of your abrupt departure from DC, and the silence settles over the two of you like a thick fog. This conversation was going to have to happen no matter what, you knew that going into this meeting with Aaron, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

“I would have stayed,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “If you asked me to.”

Aaron shakes his head as his Adam’s apple bobs. “I thought about it. But I couldn’t do that to you. I knew you wanted to see the world, and you said it yourself. This city had nothing left to offer you.”

You pause, rubbing your thumb over your fingertips with your freehand. “It had you,” you reply, and Aaron feels like he was just stabbed in the heart. “That would have been enough.” Seeing Aaron’s dejected face, you quickly keep talking. “But I get it, don’t worry. You were head over heels for Haley Brooks. Everybody knew you two were meant to be together.””

“What does that have to do with you leaving?” he asks, more accusatory than he intended.

“Everything.”

Aaron breathes out your name, unsure of what to say until he settles on: “I’m sorry.”

You wave him off, forcing a laugh. “Don’t be. I was 17 years old with a crush. We do stupid things, like want to stay at home for a boy. I’m glad I left. Besides, Haley Brooks was clearly the love of your life, and far be it from me to try and break up the golden couple.”

The two of you stop in front of the diner and you drop Aaron’s hand, much to his disappointment, although you’re still close enough to him to see your reflection in his brown eyes. “I didn’t know you felt like that about me,” he says.

“Which is surprising, because everybody else definitely knew. But you’ve always been a little clueless when it comes to stuff like that,” you tease, flashing him a toothy smile. “But it’s in the past. So come on, I want to hear about this FBI stuff and drink a milkshake so big it makes my stomach hurt.”

Twenty minutes later, you and Aaron find yourselves smushed together in a corner booth covered in cheap vinyl, splitting a chocolate milkshake and laughing as you stroll down memory lane.

“You know, I ran into Stephen yesterday! A little coffee shop not too far from here,” you tell Aaron.

Aaron almost drops the fry he was about to eat. “Do you mean Stoner Stephen? What is he doing back here?”

You take a sip of the milkshake, and Aaron’s gaze is intense as you wrap your lips around the straw. When you pull back, he’s still staring at the soft pink your lipstick leaves behind. “Apparently, he’s lived here for years. Also, did you know he’s crazy smart? Like… graduated 4th in our class, went to Brown undergrad and Columbia graduate, smart.”

Aaron’s eyes go wide in disbelief. “And this is the same guy who, completely sober, tried putting his mattress in the pool so that he didn’t have to sleep in his own dorm?”

“The very same one. He’s like a lobbyist now or something for some activist group.”

“Wow, I did not expect that. Do you remember when he got so high that he thought his joint was going to catch the dorms on fire?” Aaron asks, the words barely discernible through his laughter. “So he warned campus police that the whole school was going to burn down.”

“Yes!” you giggle, your head thrown back in laughter. “They thought it was an arson threat and they had to evacuate the whole school. I was taking an English final during that.”

Aaron’s shoulder pressing against yours makes a shiver run down your spine. You idly wonder how much closer he can get to you if he really tried.

As if reading your mind, Aaron turns towards you a little more so that your knees are touching and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. “We went to the beach that weekend,” he says quietly, unwilling to break eye contact with you. “Drank cheap beer. You got stung by a jellyfish. I had to carry you back to the car.”

No, no. You were not about to fall for Aaron Hotchner’s charm again that easily. Not again. It took you too long to get over him the first time. Still, you were leaning closer to Aaron, and Aaron was leaning in towards you, and your noses brushed as you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly and—

And his phone rings. Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips one last time before pulling away, giving you an apologetic look.

“Hotchner,” he answers, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself as realization sinks into you. You feel like you’re 17 again, desperately waiting for Aaron to ask you to prom, only to hide in your dorm for days on end when he asked Haley Brooks.

When Aaron hangs up, he immediately reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, setting enough cash on the table to cover the tab and tip. “That was work. We have to fly out to Arizona. I’m sorry.”

You nod understandingly. “Gotta catch the bad guys. When do you leave?”

It’s silent for a few torturous moments before he finally answers. “An hour, at most. We brief at the office and then get on the plane.”

“Wow,” you breathe. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you live out of your suitcase. Can I walk back with you, at least?”

Aaron smiles, a small smile that makes you wonder how often he actually smiles now. It used to be a lot, but from what he’s told you, it seems like he’s had a rough go of it the last couple of years, and has a lot less to smile about. It makes you sad because when you were traveling the world, his smile was the one thing you missed the most.

“I’d really like that.”

The two of you make small talk on the way back, swapping stories about Jack and your various adventures around the globe. The autumn air is crisp with leaves falling all around you. At one point, there was a big gust of wind, and leaves and pine needles got blown onto the two of you, and you took your sweet time running your fingers through his hair, bushing it all off him.

When you get to the entrance of the FBI building, neither one of you says anything. You just stand there, both unwilling to say goodbye. You turn to face each other, just as close as you were in the diner booth.

“Oh, you have a…” Aaron delicately reaches his hand to your hair. His fingers in your hair make your stomach do flips, and you’re almost positive he can hear your racing heartbeat. His eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, never blinking. “Pine needle,” he whispers, holding the offending object between his fingers.

“Thanks,” you breathe, and you’re not sure if it’s the autumn chill or his hand reaching to cup your cheek that sends goosebumps throughout your body.

As if he were magnetic, you rise onto your toes, bringing yourself closer to him, and you press your lips against his. Aaron deepens the kiss and runs his thumb across your cheekbone. His other hand wraps itself around your waist. The kiss is slow and sensual and better than anything you could have dreamed of — and you dream of Aaron kissing you more often than you’d like to admit.

All too soon, the two of you pull away from each other, both wearing matching smiles.

“I should probably… get in there… before my team sends out a search party,” Aaron says reluctantly, pointing towards the entrance.

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Go save lives. I’ll probably be around for a few more days before heading up to New York. If you’re back by then.”

Aaron purses his lips, deep in thought. “You’re definitely settling down somewhere? Done with seeing the world?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Have you… Do you think…” Aaron takes a grounding breath, trying to gather the words he was too afraid to ask back at graduation. “Have you ever considered settling down here? There’s a pretty big art community here.”

You shrug, ignoring excitement building in your chest. “I think my work is a little too experimental for the people of the capitol.”

“You’d be surprised,” he chuckles.

You bring your lower lip between your teeth, chewing nervously at it. “I don’t know… I left for a reason. I just don’t know what DC has to offer me anymore.”

Aaron spreads his arms out at his side, palms facing you in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. “There’s me,” he offers, and, when your eyes go wide, he adds, “And Stoner Stephen, if I’m not enough.”

A laugh bursts out of you uncontrollably, which seems to put both you and Aaron at ease. “That makes it a very tempting offer,” you tease.

“And I have a coworker who flips houses. He’ll be able to tell you where to get the best deal on an apartment,” Aaron presses as if you need any more convincing. As if your mind isn’t already made up.

“First, I need to know that there’s more than one good place to get milkshakes,” you point out, shoving your hands in your coat pockets. “You’ll have to show me around when you get back.”

Aaron’s lips quirk up in a hopeful smile. “It’s a date.”

He makes his way towards the entrance of the Hoover Building, but you call out his name, stopping him once more. “We’ll also need a new Sunday breakfast place. Since our old one is closed down.”

Now, his smile is one of pure joy, and his eyes are sparkling in a way you haven’t seen in years. “I know just the place. As long as you don’t up and leave without telling me again.”

“Never again,” you promise, and for once, the idea of staying doesn’t terrify you.

“Then we’ll get breakfast together as soon as I get back.”

You smile at him, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours. “I’ll see you then.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing

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taechaos · 4 years ago

Note

can u do more of jealous jk drabbles?👉👈

this one kinda cute but theres smut 😃

The best time of the day is when the sun is just over the horizon, taking on a blue and orange hue in the sky, not shining bright enough to blind or give a heat stroke to the crowd in the amusement park. Just enough illumination to not have to rely on the lights provided from the ferris wheel, neon titles above the rides and games you stand before.

You can't contain your squeal and shake your interlocked hands with Jungkook while bouncing on your feet, the three companies you came with much more casual about the occasion. "Where should we go first?!"

Your boyfriend shrugs, Soyeon glances at Taehyung who makes the decision: "Rollercoaster." He has a crazed grin on his face, the sparkle and mischief in his eyes matching yours. Both of you are extremely fond of these thrillers.

"A rollercoaster...? I'll wait for you guys," Soyeon sheepishly holds her nape with a smile. You coo at her.

Jungkook scoffs arrogantly, "Are you afraid too, baby? You can hold onto my arm."

You blow raspberries and clutch onto your friend's arm, "I love rollercoasters." You and Soyeon gaze into each other's eyes as you say, "Don't worry. It'll be fun if you come with me."

She blushes, Taehyung and Jungkook watching the interaction with quirked brows. How boy-friendly of you.

The seats were decided. You all bought the tickets, and it's your turn to hop on the carts. Girls sit in front of the boys, and Soyeon hesitantly places her hand on top of yours on the railing. Taehyung wraps his hands around Jungkook's arm, who is slouching in his seat with a frown.

"I'm so scared, Jungkookie," Taehyung's teeth chatter, "w-will you protect me?"

All the carts are secured as the ride slowly moves forward, slightly creaking as Jungkook groans, "Let go of my fucking arm!" Despite his relentless shaking, his best friend only holds on tighter.

"Why? Your girlfriend is having a sexual awakening with her buddy girl, why can't we?!"

Jungkook gapes at him, brows meeting in perplexity before he looks at the row across. The two of you have your heads leaning on each other, and no, that was the romantic scene he was supposed to have with you, not Taehyung who snuggles into him in whimsical fear.

"She's straight," he counters weakly, not even caring about his numbing arm from the sight before him.

The carts reach the peak of the tracks, a sense of adrenaline stirring in everyone's stomach and you squeeze Soyeon's hand comfortingly seconds before Taehyung's scream torments the whole population's ears. Needless to say, Jungkook had it the worst.

—————

Your boyfriend winces with a finger in his left ear as he follows the group with Taehyung next to him, behind you and Soyeon.

"Remind me to never go on a rollercoaster with you," he seethes intimidatingly, emitting a snort from the guilty.

"Ooh, bumper cars!" Taehyung childishly points at the competitive game. Jungkook smiles wickedly, "I'm going to give you a fucking concussi–"

"Boys against girls!" Soyeon chirps, and you gasp at the amazing idea.

"Yes! That'd be so fun!"

Upon seeing Jungkook's incredulous face, Taehyung bursts out in laugher and clutches his stomach, tearing up when he instantly goes in denial mode.

Which didn't help, because Soyeon stole you for herself once more and he is stuck with the dumbest person he's ever met once more.

"Let's beat those bitches."

"That's my girlfriend, Tae."

Those words were thrown out the window the moment the game began, because he became ruthless. Even Taehyung was getting nauseous from how violently the car was bumping against yours, the one Soyeon claimed shotgun in, rocking your bodies back and forth. It's revenge for not giving him the attention he rightfully deserves, and leaving him with who was supposed to be a fourth wheel.

No mercy, you must suffer.

When you all got off the ride, Taehyung couldn't stop stumbling all over the place.

"I'm going to throw up," he groans and pinches Jungkook's shirt.

"That settles it: I won," he shrugs triumphantly. Soyeon is quick to bite back, "You almost killed us."

"Oh no," you jump to his defence with a giggle, "he's just very competitive."

Your boyfriend smiles at your first acknowledgement of his existence, relieved as he throws an arm around you. "I'm not about to lose to a bunch of–"

"Please don't finish that sentence," you smile at him; sickly sweet with your warning.

He forces a chuckle, "–a bunch of strong, independent women."

—————

"You ever seen lesbian porn, Jungkook?" Taehyung asks as he licks up a fat stripe on his ice cream. Jungkook doesn't bother responding. "It usually begins with one girl being all shy and reluctant until the sexual tension becomes too much. Say they're studying, gossipping, whatever, the normal stuff. Then... one of them makes the first move, and the other eventually gets into it." He glances at his friend to measure his reaction; nonchalant and barely listening. "Oh, but I have a boyfriend, oh this is wrong, oh friends don't do this," he imitates in a higher pitch. "Then they fuck."

"Do you ever stop talking?" he asks, flabbergasted and annoyed. He's holding onto your ice cream after you left to the bathroom with your friend, Taehyung protecting hers and licking the melted drops to keep the cone clean. What Soyeon doesn't know won't hurt her; the flavor is too good for him to waste.

"I'm just saying man, you never know with these girls," his cheeks puff out as he suppresses a laugh. Jungkook's paranoia is easy to mess with, and he knows he shouldn't do it so often, but it's just so fun. A snort slips.

"They've been roommates for two years, I'm sure if she was bisexual, she'd know by now," he spits defensively.

"Oh my God, do you think they got drunk and kiss–"

"We're back!" you announce and take your cone from Jungkook's hand, your friend doing the same.

"Welcome back, baby," he stands up to hug you, effectively pulling you a few steps away from Soyeon with a glare. You relish in it with joy, mushing your face against his chest.

"What should we go on next?" Taehyung casually cuts into your display of affection.

"The ferris wheel, maybe? Oh, Soyeon, you have–" you point at the corner of your lip, and she mirrors the opposite side, prompting you to reach out a hand and wipe off the stain with your thumb. Jungkook blinks in astonishment. Taehyung's eyes widen to saucers as he watches his soul leave his body. His words are getting to him.

Your hand is snatched away in a flash, and you're dragged away back to the stalls where he corners you, answering your unspoken question: "Hey, just wanted to privately ask you how your date is going with Soy milk." His voice drips with sarcasm, the attitude catching you off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I feel like I'm third wheeling in front of my own girlfriend," he scowls, and your heart drops. "You haven't done a single thing with me today. I thought we came here to spend time with each other, yet we've done anything but. Be honest, are you..." he gulps and averts his gaze, "is there something going on...?"

"Jungkook," you startle and place a hand on his chest, "it's nothing like that. Of course I wanted to spend time with you, but Soyeon's been trying really hard to mend our friendship so I thought I would reciprocate. I didn't want things to be awkward between us, but I didn't realize I was neglecting you. I'm really sorry, love."

Your explanation endears him, shoulders slouching in relief just before he murmurs, "But in lesbian porn..."

"Oh my God," you exclaim in disbelief with a laugh, "I just hung out with her."

"You know I get needy!" he frowns with flushed cheeks. "That bitch wouldn't let go of you for one goddamned second, if I didn't know better I would've dragged you away a lot sooner."

You coo at him and squeeze his cheeks before he shakes you off grumpily. "I was going to go on the ferris wheel to make it up to you."

"Oh wow," he rolls his eyes, "can't believe you found the time to think about me."

"So jealous," you tease.

"Shut up," he pushes your forehead with his finger, "before I try to mend my friendship with Soy milk as well."

"She is not your friend," you glare at him with hooded eyes.

"So jealous."

—————

"The ride is five minutes long," Jungkook blurts out of thin air the moment you step into the moving cabin. "And we're going to stop at the top." At your gasp, he continues as he takes a seat, "Yeah, I did that movie cliché and paid extra."

"Jungkook," you coo with doe eyes and lay your head on his shoulder, "that's so romantic."

"Hey, don't get all cute. You said you were going to make it up to me." He tilts your chin, "How far are you willing to go?"

His question doesn't throw you off, and you chuckle, "Whatever you want."

"Yeah? Your time is running out," he looks past the window to see how high up you are. Four meters off the ground, give or take. "You think you can make me cum before we get off?"

Oh. "Better choose fast–"

You fondle with the buckle of his belt and make quick work of your hands to pull down his black jeans that hug his thighs. You lick your lips for moisture, and after what some experiences have thought you, you know to spit in your hand before wrapping your fingers around him.

"Damn, you didn't come here to play," he releases a humored breath as he watches you get him off. As if the limited time isn't bad enough, you have to get him erect in remarkable speed as well. He shifts slightly with a deep sigh, and when his cock starts to grow, you get on your knees before him and take the head of his length in your mouth. He sucks his teeth and weaves his fingers through your hair as he closes his eyes. Thirteen meters off the ground.

Mindful of your pace, you ease his length inside by taking him inch by inch, swirling your tongue the way he likes it and bobbing your head. His grip on your hair tightens as a low grunt resounds in the cabin. "You're doing so well," he looks down at you with half hooded eyes, lustful in their gaze, "you want to make it up to me that bad? Want to please me? Gosh," he sighs.

You deepthroat him with your hand covering what you can't reach until he thrusts into your mouth. You gag in reflex, and he uses your hair as leverage to do the rest for you. It's sloppy now, and saliva drools from the corner of your mouth with welling tears. You can only hope he reaches climax in time. Twenty two feet off the ground.

When his thrusts begin to slow down, you take it as your cue to pull away and jerk him off, your tongue taking care of the tip as his breaths grow more and more shallow. You assume he's holding back moans as to not attract any attention to your cabin. Thirty one meters. You make it a challenge for yourself to make him cum by the timr you reach the peak.

"Ah, go faster," he furrows his brows, face twisting in pleasure as he leans back on his seat. Your scalp starts to sting from his strong grasp.

Your hand listens, and you suck harder on the head while teasing the slit, and he gasps louder each passing second. He's panting while forty three feet off the ground, and a few moments later, his hips lift off the seat as he groans, his release on your tongue that you swallow. It comes in stutters, so you keep your mouth on him until you've swallowed every drop to avoid getting banned from the amusement park. Calling it simply taboo is an underestimatement.

"Shit, shit," he breathlessly says and thrusts into your mouth two last times before pulling out, a string of saliva still attached to your mouth. The ferris wheel stops. "You were fucking perfect, baby," he murmurs and his head goes limp, eyes dazed from the climax. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and smile despite the ache in your jaw.

"Thank you," you squeak and sit next to him. His head rolls to you. "Is my face okay?"

"Oh, you wore lipstick," he laughs quietly and uses the hem of his matching black shirt to clean up the smudge, his stomach on display from the action. You sit still as he fixes up your appearance, brushing your disheveled hair with his fingers, and just to be extra, he adjusts your collar, making you giggle and roll your eyes. "Like nothing happened. I'll eat you out at my dorm to return the favor."

You blush in surprise at his words, but he dismisses it by looking at the view. The sun has set, and all the lights sparkle from under you and the midnight black sky. It's beautiful. You admire it with him.

"I can't believe I paid extra for this. There's not even fireworks."

BONUS:

Soyeon and Taehyung sit across from each other without averting their gaze from the sky, effectively ignoring the presence of one another until he breaks the silence. "This is so romantic."

"Yeah."

"If we were a couple, this would be the perfect moment to kiss."

"Um... I guess," she shrugs off his unusual flirting.

"You want to be a couple for this ride?" he suggests and looks at her with wiggling brows.

She doesn't return the stare, softly speaking, "No, I think I'd rather jump off."

He chuckles under his breath, "Jungkook is going to have a field day when he finds out you're lesbian."

"Huh?"

"I said why don't you jump on this dick."

#textbook love #jungkook fluff #naisu naisu #jungkook smut #bts smut

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xmalfoyweasleyx · 4 years ago

Text

He flirts with everyone - F.W

Summary: Y/n gets drunk at the opening party of the joke shop when she sees her best friend Fred flirting again. She accidentally tells him about her feelings when she thinks it's George...

A/N: Normally I write smut but I LOVE this idea and I had so much fun writing it! I'm a little insecure about it because it's not smut, so please give feedback. I hope you'll like it! x

Warnings/Includes: Drinking, alcohol, insecure reader, 1 mention of sex, really passionate kiss, angst to fluff :)

Today was THE day, the opening of Fred and George their joke shoppe. It all started in the evening, with a big opening party.

Y/n was outside watching the doors of the shop, preparing herself to walk through. Dimmed music and lights could already been noticed where she was standing. She was a little nervous. The twins are her best friends, they knew each other since they were little, but it's been a month now since she's seen them. That was long for them, it was the longest they haven't seen each other, ever.

When she opened the door she was overwhelmed with the loud music and all the people in the room. How is she supposed to find those twins? But before she started searching properly, she already saw George standing there. You really couldn't miss him, with his tall figure and bright smile he stood out of the crowd.

"George!" you screamed. George turned his head immediately and smiled bright.

"Y/n! Finally!" he grinned and he gave you a big hug.

"It's so pretty in here, congratulations Georgie" y/n smiled. George seemed proud, she was thrilled to see him back but she couldn't stop herself from wondering where Fred is.

As if George could read her mind: "I think Fred is.. er.." he said while looking around.

And that's when they saw him standing next to the stairs. "There" George added. But both of their smiling expressions changed when they really saw him. Like we all know him, Fred was flirting again. Y/n knew she really had no single right to care about that, but the jealousy hit her like a truck. And George knew that.

A pretty tall lady was standing next to him. They were both laughing and giggling. Fred looked so damn handsome, she thought. His suit, the hair,... It was beautiful. Y/n watched how Fred gently laid his hand on the woman her shoulder and she seductively moved her fingers against her glass of alcohol. ALCOHOL that's it.

"Where's the alcohol" y/n asked George. He had a worried look on his face. "Y/n I don't think... I... Fred is just-" he stuttered but y/n cut him off. "I don't care, you don't owe me an explanation and certainly not in your brother's place, now give me some firewhisky or something" y/n stated.

"I know you're in love with him y/n" he explained full of pity. Of course George knew, you were his best friend and it was obvious to him but not to Fred. George always had to watch how you were hurt when you saw Fred with another girl, it happened back at Hogwarts too.

"Oh. Well. If you know then give me the drink" she kept asking. George nodded. They walked to the table with the drinks and George poured something in for her.

"You're not going to say hi to him?" he guessed. "Nope" y/n answered and she threw the whole drink down her throat. George felt sorry for her but also laughed a little, he liked drunk y/n after all, it was always fun.

An hour later there was already a dance floor full of people dancing their soul out. Including y/n. The alcohol was exploding in her body and she poured another shot down her throat when she saw Fred dancing with the girl from before or was it another girl already? One thing y/n knew for sure was that the girl was hot.

Her favourite song came on so she danced and danced... When suddenly, she didn’t know if it was an half hour later or maybe only 2 minutes, she felt someone pressing her shoulder.

Y/n turned around and saw Fred. “When did you get here?” he asks confused. Y/n decided not to answer and she kept dancing, swaying her hips to the music. “Weren’t you planning on saying hi to me?” he tries again.

“Nope” y/n responded trying to ignore the boy. She wasn’t even able to look into his eyes because she knew she would just melt.

“I’m going for another drink bye” she muttered, trying to get away from there as fast as possible. When she turned around Fred grabbed her arm to stop her.

“I think you’ve had enough, love” he whispered.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do Fred Weasley and you certainly don’t have to call me love” y/n said angrily, leaving Fred confused.

Why didn’t she say hello to him? Didn’t she miss him? He missed her and this is what he gets? Fred didn’t understand a thing.

“Wow, calm down, what the hell is wrong with you?” he scoffed now getting angry too. "With me? Why don't you just go back dancing with that girl you stupid git" y/n insulted, immediately regretting what she just said. Fred was hurt. Angry. He didn't understand this at all.

"You're mental" he snapped. Tears started to form in y/n's eyes and Fred walked away. Leaving y/n there guilty, sad and drunk...

Y/n ran outside, finding an empty doorstep on a random house next to the shop, where she could sit on. Tears fell down when she buried her face in her hands. She didn't want to be so mean to Fred, but maybe shutting him out was the best way to get over him?

What y/n didn't know is that Fred regretted what he said too. He saw how hurt she was and he hated seeing his best friend like that. So he decided to go look for her.

His heart broke when he saw y/n sitting there, her hands in her hair and tears falling down. Fred sat next to her without saying a word. Y/n looked up and smiled, not knowing it was Fred.

No, she thought it was George, he knew how she felt after all. Normally, y/n was the best in telling them apart, but after all that alcohol, she made a big mistake.

Fred on the other hand, thought y/n knew it was him. He had no idea y/n thought she was sitting next to George.

"Are you okay?" Fred asked. "I messed up" y/n cried.

"You didn't mess up" he ensured her, trying to calm her down, but it became worse. "I did! Oh why am I in love with your stupid brother" she sighed, leaning down to lay her head on Fred's shoulder (or what she thought was George his shoulder).

Fred was shocked. In love with my brother, he thought, so she is in love with George? Did that stupid twin of him make her cry like this?

"Are you in love with my brother?" Fred gasped, trying to hide the hurt in his voice. He would never be able to watch how y/n dates his brother, the thought of it made him sick. He didn't want y/n to be in love with someone else and especially not his own brother.

"I thought you knew" y/n asked confused. "No, I didn't" Fred whispered, almost inaudible.

Y/n was confused, she talked about this with George just hours ago? But she forgot it already when she remembered how mean she was to the boy she loves with her whole hard.

"I love him, George, but he'll never love me the way I love him" y/n sobbed.

Fred gulped. Did she just say George as in: she loves George. Or did she just say George to him?

"You don't understand, I wanna have his babies!! I want to come home and see his smile, I want him to fuck me into oblivion!!! Please help me George" y/n suddenly screamed dramatically, still very drunk.

Now Fred was sure, she thought she was talking to George. Which meant all she said was about him. He wasn't able to move. Fred was shocked. How? When? Why? He had so many questions.

"But he flirts with everyone, every piece of woman he can find, he flirts with it. I'll never be enough" y/n sniffled.

That's when Fred finally put all the pieces together and realized why she acted like that. She must have seen him talking to that girl. All those girls. Has he really been so blind? And did she really think she's not enough for him? His heart broke and glowed at the same time.

He wanted to tell her so many things, he wanted to explain everything, to apologize. He wanted to tell her so so so much.

But he couldn't, he was speechless. It was like he was glued to the floor and turned into a puppet with empty strings.

"George?" y/n stammered when she saw the look on his face.

Fred only responded with eyes full of pity.

They looked in each others eyes for a moment, when suddenly, she realized.

The scar, the pattern of freckles and the chubbier cheeks.

It was Fred.

Y/n gasped loudly. "I-I-... Fuck." was the only thing coming out of her mouth.

She panicked, embarrassed and afraid of what will come next. So she grabbed her wand. The only idea that came up was to apparate away from him.

She waved her wand but before she even did something she felt Fred grab her arm and in a second she was in a room with him. He was first.

"Where are we" she asked. "In my apartment" Fred answered.

Y/n nodded and an awkward silence filled the room.

“Do you really think you’re not enough for me?” Fred whispered.

“What does it even matter” she huffs.

Fred took a step closer and he grabbed her hand. Y/n her eyes widened. “Do you really think that?” Fred repeats.

“Yes” y/n answered weakly.

“Why?” he questioned interested.

“Fred, look at you, you’re a handsome owner of a shop who played quidditch for years, I mean, look at that chest, you are funny, you are sweet, all the ladies drool over you and you flirt with all of them. They’re so pretty and I’m... I’m, me.” y/n rambled.

Fred’s heart was beating hard inside his chest, her honest words made his knees go weak. If she only knew how he saw her. How pretty he thinks she is. He was stupid for flirting with those girls right in front of her. It was his fault, her insecurities.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship, I know you don’t feel the same way, well that’s obvious, but I can’t see you that much any more, because when I see you I just want to rip off that shirt and kiss-“ she rambled and rambled like she was already doing the whole night, as if there was a ramblingpotion in her drinks.

But Fred cut her off by grabbing her shoulders and pushing her chest close to his.

“For Gods sakes, shut up woman” he whispered with a smile and he kissed you.

It was not just a kiss, it was something you both wanted to do for so long now. You both had never felt this way before. The passion was unexplainable. Fred grabbed y/n her ass very gently making her gasp a little, now he could enter his tongue. They fought for dominance. Y/n pulled on his red locks and pressed her body impossibly closer to his. She wanted to feel close to Fred, she wanted to show him how much she loved him.

Fred felt the same way, he left a very gentle bite on her lip, making her moan a little. His heart was swollen in his chest and he finally understood what they meant with those belly butterflies.

He was going to marry that girl one day, and like she said: give her his babies. The thought of her (actually) funny confessions made him grin on her lips.

“What are you smiling about” y/n chuckled when she left his lips.

“Nothing, nothing” he grinned.

After recovering from their passionate kiss, y/n and Fred were sitting on his couch. They talked and talked like they always could keep talking about random stuff. But now the topic was a whole different one.

Fred made sure y/n realized how bloody sexy he thought she was. He promised he would try his best to only flirt with her and he talked about how he liked her too back at hogwarts. Y/n couldn’t believe it at first but after talking for a while she was convinced.

She laid in Fred’s arms while he drew little patterns on her back. She enjoyed his smell and how warm he felt. It felt safe, it felt like home.

“Thank god, finally!” they heard a voice coming from across the room. It was George.

You all laughed.

“Without you we wouldn’t lay here like this Georgie” Fred joked.

“But I didn’t do anything?” George furrowed his eyebrows.

“I know” Fred laughed placing a soft kiss on your head.

join my taglist :)

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( I hope you’re not disappointed because this has no smut )

#fred fluff #george weasley #harry potter #fred weasley #weasley #fred and george #fred weasly x reader #fred angst #x reader

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kuroopaisen · 4 years ago

Text

tiny love || vii

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be. he is the perfect gentleman, after all.

warnings: f!reader, depictions of intoxication

wc: 5.2k

m.list | ch. 6 ↞ ch. 7 ↠ ch. 8

You peered at yourself in the mirror, doing your best to not crinkle your makeup.

It’d been a while since you’d bothered to dress up this nicely.

You were just wearing a simple yet flattering black dress, offset by your favourite shade of red lipstick. You weren’t sure if you actually looked good, or if it was just nicer than anything else you’d worn that week.

You’d sent a photo to Amaya, but upon receiving her affirmation you started to doubt the authenticity of it. Not that she’d given you reason to; no, you’d just decided that she was far too supportive to trust for an objective opinion.

You sighed, tilting your head to the side as you looked at the mirror.

Whatever, you thought. This’ll just have to do.

“I’m ready!” You called out, slipping into the front room after grabbing your handbag.

“Give me a moment,” Iwaizumi called out. The tinniness of his voice implied that he was still in the bathroom.

You sighed, taking a moment to check the contents of your bag. Phone, wallet, lipstick, mirror… That’s all you’d need, right?

“You got everything?” Iwaizumi asked, almost as if he’d appeared out of nowhere.

“Mhm!” You smiled, looking up at him.

You wondered, for a moment, if there was something on your face.

He was staring at you, his eyes a little wider and rounder than usual.

You tilted your head at him. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” He blinked at you for a second, as if your words had shocked him back to the present moment. His eyes scanned your body slowly before lingering on your face again. “You look good.”

You hoped your foundation masked the heat rising in your cheeks.

It’s frustrating, how hot he looked without even trying. He was just in a black button up (the top few buttons undone, of course) and a pair of jeans, and yet he looked like that. He’d barely done anything to his hair, either; just a bit of gel, from the looks of things.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked, finally breaking the excruciating silence.

“Yeah,” you nodded. Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime with his stupid face and his stupid black button up and his stuck jeans and his stupid—

“I’ll drive,” he said, patting his jean pocket.

“Oh, are you sure?” You asked. “You don’t want to drink?”

“It’s fine. Someone’s got to keep an eye on you,” he grinned, throwing you a wink.

“Hey!” You whined. “You haven’t even seen me drunk!”

“Oh, so you do intend on getting drunk then?” He chuckled, heading for the apartment door.

You gaped for a moment, searching for a comeback. “Well, you’re the one who said that uni parties are for getting shit-faced.”

“That doesn’t mean you should get shit-faced, though.”

You rolled your eyes as you followed him. “Whatever you say, dad.”

✧ ✧ ✧

You hadn’t known what to expect from your first visit to a rooftop bar, but suffice to say you were impressed. When you’d asked Iwaizumi how the club had the budget to book somewhere this nice, he’d just shrugged.

“A lot of Japanese students, I guess,” was his only explanation.

Upon paying twenty-five dollars to officially ‘join’ at the door, you started to formulate a strong theory as to just where the club was getting its money.

There were far more people here than you’d anticipated. You knew it would be big, you hadn’t expected it to be this big. People were packed in like the clothes in your wardrobe, barely giving each other room to breathe. It was a sea of completely unrecognisable faces – and yet, seeing all these people who looked and sounded like you made you feel a little more at ease.

The music – which seems to be a mix of songs you don’t recognized – thumped loudly throughout the area. You wondered if there’d be any noise complaints.

Iwaizumi led you to the bar, managing to find two seats. You weren’t entirely sure how; you mostly chalked it up to the providence of God.

“I’m just going to go to the toilet, okay?” Iwaizumi said. “You’ll be alright on your own for a second, right?”

You nodded. “Don’t worry about me!”

Iwaizumi gave you a look as if to say ‘that’s impossible.’

You fought the urge to stick your tongue out at him. That would only elucidate his point.

After a few more moments of staring (under which you thought you were going to crumble to dust), Iwaizumi eventually disappeared into the crowd.

You sighed, placing your hands in your lap.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to do. You felt it only right to stay where you were, mostly to avoid giving Iwaizumi a heart attack should he come back and see you weren’t there. But, you didn’t have the confidence to order a drink, either. Or get the bartender’s attention.

“Hey.”

A voice that somehow managed to make itself heard over the music startled you out of your thoughts.

You whipped your head round, only to see a guy you’d never met before sitting in Iwaizumi’s seat. He had soft features framed by a strong chin and wavy brown hair. If you had to guess, you’d say he was around your age.

“Hey,” you said automatically, relieved at the fact that he’d greeted you in Japanese.

“You speak Japanese?” He smiled.

“You’d assume so,” you smiled back. “Seeing as I’m here and all.” You gestured to the room around you. Underneath the music, you could make out a bubble of conversation – most of which was Japanese.

“Hey, a lot of second-gen immigrants don’t necessarily learn the language,” he shrugged. His entire demeanour was so… good-natured. So polite. Even if he had taken a seat without asking.

“Oh, really?” You hadn’t known that. Albeit, it wasn’t really something you’d thought about too much.

“Mhm,” he nodded. “I mean, that’s what my friend told me.”

“Ah,” you said.

“I’m Kohei, by the way,” he gave you a little nod.

You returned it as you introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you,” he grinned. “What year are you in?”

“First,” you said. “I only got here a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh!” His face lit up. “Me too!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I’m from Tokyo!”

“Ah, so you’re a city boy,” you smiled.

He blushed a little. “Well, uh…”

“I’m from Miyagi,” you cut in. “Although, I did go to Sendai every now and then.”

“Oh, I never got the chance to visit,” he smiled. “What made you come to America?”

“I wanted to study psychology,” you answered. “I thought the options would be better here.”

“Ah,” he nodded. He had the sort of eyes that made him look like he was deeply engaged in whatever you were talking about.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Oh, I just wanted to come here for the adventure,” he said sheepishly.

“The ‘adventure’?” You smiled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I thought it would be cool. But… English is a bit tricky, isn’t it?”

You laughed. “Oh, yeah…”

A squeal of your name cut through the crowd.

You turned, bewildered and a little frightened.

“Hi!” Yuna beamed, throwing herself at you.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around her. From the flush in her cheeks, you could tell she’d already had a few.

“I’m so glad you came!” She whined. “And you look so pretty!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So do you!”

Yuna whined again, drawing back to pout at you. “Why didn’t you come and find me immediately?”

“I didn’t know you were here,” you laughed.

She narrowed her eyes at you. “Fair enough…” Her gaze snapped to Kohei, her glare getting more intense. “And who is this?”

“This is Kohei,” you said, leaving them to introduce themselves to each other.

You scanned the crowd, a frown forming. Where was Iwaizumi? He’d been gone a while… Or did it only feel like a while? If Yuna dragged you away, it may be hard to find him and assure him that you were okay, because you just knew he’d be developing an aneurism…

You caught sight of him. He gave you a tiny wave, an expression that looked something like relief on his face. That look alone was enough to soothe you.

Tonight was already shaping up to be a good time.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Can you stand?” Iwaizumi asked, watching you with an expression of disgruntled concern on his face.

“Yes,” you said with far too much emphasis. You pointed at him with one very obstinate finger.

Kohei had bought you a drink, and Yuna had challenged you to a line of shots. Mei had pointed out that perhaps you shouldn’t go overboard. You’d been adamant that you knew your limit. That’d been a big fat lie.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, taking a step towards you.

“Yes!”

As soon as you said it, you toppled left.

Iwaizumi grabbed you by your shoulders, stabilizing you.

“Whoops,” you pouted.

He sighed, releasing you. “You alright?”

You blinked at him for a second. “Iwa…”

“Mhm?”

“I don’t think I can stand.”

Iwaizumi bit the inside of his cheek. He was trapped somewhere between annoyance and burgeoning fondness.

“Alright,” he said, standing at your side. “Let me help.”

“Thank you,” you hummed, beaming at him as he leant down to drape one of your arms across his shoulders.

You leant your entire weight against him without warning.

He grunted, one arm grabbing your waist to keep you on your feet. “Careful now.”

“Sorry,” you whined. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” Iwaizumi smiled, shaking his head. “Let’s get you back to the car, alright?”

“That is an excellent plan, Iwa. You should be proud.”

Oh, fuck, he thought. He just couldn’t keep that smile off his face.

✧ ✧ ✧

By some miracle, he managed to get you to the car in one piece.

Even better, the drive home had been relatively uneventful. You’d just babbled on about why Riza Hawkeye from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood was, in fact, the perfect woman. Iwaizumi had just smiled, nodding along whenever he was required to.

You still needed support getting up the stairs to your apartment; when you tried to take matters into your own hands, you always managed to trip.

But, finally, he’d gotten you both inside the house, your arm still draped over his shoulders and his arm still wrapped around your waist. It was, quite frankly, almost too much.

Iwaizumi sighed, opening your bedroom door with his free hand.

“But Iwa,” you whined, pouting up with him. “I need to have a shower.”

“You can’t stand up straight,” he chuckled. “You can have a shower in the morning.”

“But I’ve gotta wipe my makeup off,” you droned. “Or else I’ll get a breakout.”

“Hm…” He scanned your room, settling on the clutter of makeup on your desk. “Do you have anything you can wash your face with?”

The idea of you trying to stabilize yourself in the shower gave him more anxiety than he was comfortable with. You shouldn’t wake up with both a hangover and a concussion.

“Wipes?” You blinked, pointing at your desk.

Iwaizumi took a moment to find them. He assumed it was the little green packet that didn’t look familiar to him.

“Thanks,” you beamed up at him as he passed them to you.

He tried his best to ignore the squeezing in his heart as he noticed how your eyes sparkled as you looked at him.

You ignored him for a moment as you dealt with your makeup.

He looked away out of respect, eyes landing on the collage of photos stuck above your desk. He ambled towards them mindlessly, gazing at the myriad of images.

There were many faces he recognized. Tooru, Amaya, your mother, Kaori… He realised, not without a strange sharpness in his chest, that he only featured in a single photo. It was one from his graduation; one that you were both ‘obligated’ to be in.

But he knew his absence from these photos was his own doing. If he just hadn’t had been such an idiot, then…

“Is it gone?” You asked.

He turned back to you, biting back a laugh. “Uh… not quite.”

Your lipstick, which had already been in a poor state, was smeared all around your mouth, looking more like a rash. Your foundation was splotchy, some patches mostly removed and others untouched. And to top it all off, your mascara had been melted into a muddy puddle beneath your eyes.

Overall, you looked a bit like a raccoon he’d caught eating beetroots out of his garbage.

You whined, lying back on your bed.

“It’ll be fine,” he chuckled. “It’s just one night.”

“No, you don’t understand,” you emphasized, “makeup is bad for your skin.”

Iwaizumi grinned, grabbing what he assumed to be your pyjamas from the end of the bed and tossing them to you. “You’ll feel better if you change into something more comfortable.”

You glared at him from your horizontal position, the expression emphasised by a couple extra chins.

Iwaizumi left the room quickly and closed the door, making a beeline for the kitchen. He prepared you a glass of water, going through the checklist in his head of how to take care of someone well over their limit.

When he got back to your bedroom door, he was sure to knock.

He took the garbled ‘mhm!’ he got in response as affirmation.

He opened the door slowly, peeking round the door to see you sat cross-legged on the bed with a pout. From the looks of it, you’d put your top on backwards.

His heart thumped in that terrifyingly familiar way.

“Drink this,” he mumbled, handing you the glass.

You nodded, taking it with both hands and tipping it back with ferocity.

Iwaizumi gazed at his feet while he did so, trying to smother the burgeoning fondness in his chest.

He couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair.

“I’m done!” You called out in a sing-song voice, thrusting the empty cup towards him.

“Do you want some more?” He asked as he took the cup from you.

You beamed up at him. “Mhm!”

Iwaizumi sighed. He wasn’t going to say no to that face.

As he went to get you a second glass of water, he kept trying to push those sorts of thoughts out of his head.

He’d been doing so well. Of course, he’d wanted to be friends with you again. Being able to get along would be key to making this whole living situation work. But the closer he got, the more he was reminded of what had happened two years ago.

And like an idiot, he’d tried to position himself as someone you could rely on. He wanted to be someone you could rely on.

But was that because it was the right thing to do, or because of something else?

He shook his had and blinked rapidly. He’s just thinking these things because he’s had a bit to drink. That’s all. It’s nothing serious.

He kept repeating those thoughts as he dragged himself back to your room, determined not to succumb to them.

The last time he’d fallen into them, you’d completely excised each other from your lives. That wasn’t exactly an option here.

He took a deep breath as he stepped into your room, steeling himself for whatever was to come.

You were laid on your bed, limbs curled around one of your pillows. Were you asleep?

Well, he thought, that’s probably for the best.

Iwaizumi sighed, placing the water on your bedside table. Chances were, you were going to wake up with quite the headache. But, he supposed, it’s something of a learning experience. It’s good to know your limits.

He carefully picked up the corner of your blanket and tugged it over you. It was fall, after all. He didn’t want you catching a cold.

Once he was sure everything was in order, he flicked your light off and left, closing the door behind him.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him as he dragged himself back to his room. He didn’t dare check the time; he was sure it’d just upset him.

Better to just try and forget about this night and move on.

✧ ✧ ✧

After that party, you’d made a vow to never drink again.

The vow lasted for all about a week. Although, you were much more careful about just how much you were drinking at any given time.

You did, however, stick to your promise to never, ever sleep in your makeup ever again.

Though neither alcohol nor makeup had been an issue as of late.

You’d done your best to give yourself as much time as possible to work on your assignments, mainly so you could ensure that your language use was as proficient as possible. But, even that hadn’t been enough to stave off the beast that is procrastination.

The result, of course, was a flurry of three days wholly dedicated to one assignment about neurotransmitters. You were in total shutdown mode, nothing on your mind but getting this stupid thing done.

You’d even left your room and settled yourself at the dining table in an attempt to stop the ever-coaxing allure of your bed pulling you away from your work desk for yet another nap.

Oh, and texting Amaya at any given moment as a way of putting off your work.

Our time zones don’t line up that well, you kept telling yourself. It’s fine, I can justify this distraction.

“Hey.”

You looked up at Iwaizumi with a thoroughly worn-out expression on your face. “Hello.”

“You okay?” He chuckled.

“As much as I can be,” you whined, turning to glare your computer screen.

“Here,” he said, placing a glass of water and an apple on the desk next to you. You hadn’t even noticed that he had them.

Your heart thumped a funny little rhythm in your chest.

Sure, you were used to Iwazumi’s gentlemanly ways by now. But that didn’t mean your heart didn’t race a little faster at each little act of kindness.

“Keep your fluids up,” he said, nodding at the water. “If you get a headache, we have some Panadol in the cupboard.”

“Thank you,” you blushed.

“No problem,” he smiled, turning around to return to the kitchen.

A new chat lit up on the corner of your screen.

[Kohei] [7:03 PM] Hey! How’s your assignment going?

[You] [7:03 PM] It’s… going?

[Kohei] [7:04 PM] Ahaha oh dear… that doesn’t sound good

[You] [7:03 PM] I am, as the kids say, suffering

[Kohei] [7:03 PM] Oh, I’m so sorry :( is there anything I can do to help?

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. You just needed to get this stupid thing done. Then you’d finally be able to relax.

✧ ✧ ✧

You held your milk tea up to your face, peering at it closely.

“Something wrong?” Iwaizumi asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He was perfectly content with the grapefruit tea he’d ordered, as he usually was.

“I think they skimped on the pearls this time,” you mused.

Iwaizumi chuckled, shaking his head. “Need me to talk to them?”

“No!” You shook your head quickly, any sign of malice disappearing from your face. “No, please don’t!”

“I’m just teasing,” he grinned, flicking your forehead lightly.

“Ow!” You pouted, rubbing the besieged spot gingerly.

“No need to be dramatic.”

“Quite the contrary, actually,” you shook your head, “I’m in my youth. It’s the prime time to be dramatic.”

Iwaizumi gave you the kind of look that implied he had no idea what you were talking about. In truth, neither did you.

You were just in an uncommonly good mood.

The two of you were on your way to a club meeting, organised by the Japanese Students Association. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what the meeting was actually about. All you knew was that you’d been invited. Specifically. Even though you were still just a first year.

And apparently, your presence had been requested by Mei.

Meaning you were actually wanted there.

The thought made your chest bubble with joy. You were wanted somewhere. People wanted to see you. On your merits. Not because of the family you’d be born into.

Sure, knowing Iwaizumi had given you a leg up, but they weren’t obligated to spend time with you, right? Right?

“Hajime?”

You both stopped in your tracks, turning towards the source of this new voice.

It was a girl you didn’t recognise – although you had to admit that she was quite stunning. Her dark hair was tied up in an impressively neat high ponytail, and her red lipstick was impeccable. The look, if she was going for it, was definitely ‘I could kill a man with the mere snap of my fingers.’

“Oh,” Iwaizumi blinked.

Was he… caught of guard?

“Ah, it is you,” the girl smiled, tilting her head at him. “How are you?”

“Good,” he said quickly. You didn’t miss how his grip tightened around his cup.

The girl nodded, her eyes fixed intently on his face.

You felt a bit like you were intruding on something very personal.

“Who’s this?” The girl asked, her gaze shifting to you.

You froze, unsure of what to say.

“Uh, this is my friend,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to you. “Who also happens to be my roommate.”

You nodded at this girl as Iwaizumi introduced you, trying to ignore the swell in your chest at the fact he’d introduced you as a ‘friend’ first and foremost.

“Ah,” the girl smiled, nodding. “I’m Misaki, by the way.”

The warmth that’d just been spreading through your chest turned cold.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said automatically, trying to stave off whatever confusing mess of emotion was going on inside of you.

“You too,” Misaki smiled.

The three of you stood there for a moment, completely silent.

“We’re on our way to a meeting,” Iwaizumi said, clearing his throat.

“Oh, really?” Misaki blinked. “I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem,” Iwaizumi shook his head, holding a hand up. “You didn’t know.”

“Right,” Misaki nodded slowly, looking between the both of you. “Well, see you around.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, turning to you. “We should get going,” He didn’t wait for your response, walking off at a slightly faster pace than usual.

“Right,” you nodded, falling into step alongside him.

His whole demeanour seemed… off. Like something had really bothered him. It didn’t take a genius to work out why. But, you thought it best to get the facts instead of relying on your own suspicions.

“So,” you began, once you were sure Misaki was safely out of earshot, “who is she?”

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, gaze stuck firmly to the ground. “Uh… she’s my ex.”

“Oh?” You replied. You didn’t want to seem too interested – even though, in fact, you were very interested.

“Yeah…” Iwaizumi nodded slowly. “We broke up a few months ago.”

“Oh…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi shrugged. “We didn’t suit each other.”

“I see…” Break ups were entirely new territory for you. None of your friends had really dated in high school – and if they did, the breakup usually came as some sort of relief. Your friends had never asked for comfort even if you’d offered it.

But, seeing how the two of them had just interacted with each other…

“How long were you together?” You asked. Was that too invasive? You weren’t sure.

“About six months.”

You tried to ignore the stabbing in your gut. Six months? Six months? Sure, that might not be that long in the grand scheme of things, but it sure sounded like a long time to you. You hadn’t even been living with Iwaizumi for six months.

“Ah…” You pressed your lips together, brow furrowing as you searched for what to say. “If you need to talk to someone about it…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Iwaizumi smiled. “Really, I’m over it. I just didn’t expect to run into her today.”

You nodded. “That’s fair.”

“Usually I’d get a heads up before seeing her,” he shrugged.

“Huh?”

“Well, uh…” He cleared his throat. “We see each other at events, sometimes. For the Japanese Association.”

“Oh?” Now that piqued your interest.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We actually met through it.”

Something twisted in your stomach. They’d met through the Student Association? It shouldn’t have made the thought of going to events weird, and yet it did.

“Oh really?” You asked, trying to seem unbothered.

“Mhm,” Iwaizumi nodded. “A lot of people end up finding a partner there.”

You frowned. Were you expected to find a partner there? Would you find a partner there?

Maybe you would. Maybe you’d finally find someone to date.

Although, you weren’t sure how anyone was supposed to measure up to Iwaizumi. Especially when he was standing right there.

“Anyway,” he sighed, picking up his pace. “We’ll be late.”

“Right,” you nodded, scurrying after him.

All you could hope for was to be able to push the thought of Misaki out of your head.

It felt petty, childish. You shouldn’t’ve been so concerned with Iwaizumi’s love life; his dating history shouldn’t matter to you.

But the questions swirled in your head as the two of you rushed across campus.

Had he dated anyone other than Misaki? Had he loved her? How far had they gone together? Did he miss her? Did he ever think about her?

Or, worse yet, was he on the look-out for someone else?

✧ ✧ ✧

“It’s not that hard once you understand the basics,” Iwaizumi said.

“Right,” you nodded, watching his hands intently as he sliced up an onion.

“If you place your hand like this,” he said, fist placed on the onion so that his knuckles ghosted the knife, “you’re less likely to cut yourself.”

“Ah,” you marvelled. “That’s actually a really helpful tip.”

“I know,” he grinned. “That’s why I’m sharing it with you.”

You rolled your eyes.

Iwaizumi moved onto the carrots, which you’d peeled yourself. Maybe you were a bit too proud, given the size of the task, but he let you get away with it.

He chopped the carrots with his typical proficiency.

You rested your elbows on the countertop, propping your chin up on the palms of your hands.

“We should have a dinner party,” you suggested, the image of all your shared friends gathered round your table, laughing and smiling, filling your heart with a precious warmth.

“That’s not what uni students usually do,” Iwaizumi smiled. “Not in America, anyway.”

“So?” You turned to him with a defiant expression. “We can all pretend to be upper-middle class for the evening,” you opined, tilting your chin at him. “It’ll be fun.”

“I’ll think about it,” Iwaziumi smiled.

“Pft,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “Like it’s up to you. I can just hold one without you.”

You wouldn’t really do that. You’d met them through him, after all.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi grinned, a certain glint in his eyes. “What’re you going to serve everyone? Burnt rice?”

“Hey!” You whined. “It was one time!”

“How do you even burn rice?” Iwaizumi teased.

You pouted, lifting your fist and lightly punching him in the chest.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, sweetheart,” he laughed, puffing his chest out proudly. “I barely even felt that.”

“Fine.” You went for another swing.

Iwaizumi caught your wrist, holding it above your head in a gentle grip.

You swung with your other hand, only for him to catch that one, too.

You glared at him – but you know he’s aware that you’re just having a bit of fun.

“You’re the worst and I hate you,” you huffed.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he smirked.

You tried to think of some retort, some witticism that’d catch him off guard.

Nothing came to mind. Not when you were so close to him, his hands wrapped around your wrists as he looked at you with that expression. Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime and his stupid face and his stupid voice and his stupid—

You brought your knee up to his stomach, making him flinch.

His stumbled backwards and you tried to tug your wrists away. But his grip was too strong, even when he wasn’t trying all that hard.

“Stop,” you whined. “Let me go.”

“Say sorry.”

“For what?”

“Punching me.”

“Oh, come on,” you pouted at him. “It didn’t even hurt.”

“And?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “It’s about the principle of it.”

“Of punching you?”

“Mhm. It’s not very polite.”

You tried to tug away again. Your mind was wandering much too far. Farther than it should.

“Brattiness is an inherited trait,” you said, “it’s just part of being an Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi chuckled, finally letting you go.

Maybe the implication of your brother was enough to do it.

“You might be right about that,” he teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him petulantly.

Don’t make it hard for yourself, you thought. Not again.

✧ ✧ ✧

The sound of some generic eighties rock band bounced through your apartment as you and Iwaizumi tended to the DVD rack stood next to the TV.

“You have the taste of an old man,” you teased, glancing at Iwaizumi out the corner of your eye.

“These are classics,” Iwaizumi tsked.

“Kohei described them as ‘dad bands,’” you hummed.

“And why should this Kohei’s opinion matter more than mine, hm?”

“I never said it did,” you grinned, moving the DVD for Ferris Buller’s Day Off to its designated genre category. Why Iwaizumi had spent so much money on DVDs, you didn’t know. You would’ve thought that they’d just provide more clutter, especially if he planned on moving back to Japan.

You’d just surmised that it had something to do with his natural ineptitude with technology.

“What does this ‘Kohei’ even listen to?” Iwaizumi asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know, actually.”

“You know, you’ll look back at the music of this decade and realise most of it’s garbage,” Iwaizumi grunted.

“Okay, grandpa.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “you’ve got that look on your face.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at you. “What look?”

“You know,” you giggled, turning to face him. “This look.”

You drew your eyebrows together a little, narrowing your eyes just enough to make them a bit more intense. To finish it off, you turned the corners of your mouth down, performing your best impression of a certified ‘Serious Iwaizumi.’

He flicked your forehead gently, a fond smile on his face. “I don’t look like that.”

“Oh, but you do,” you stressed. “You’re going to get premature wrinkles if you’re not careful.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “At least I’ll have my arms.”

You couldn’t argue with that. The only thing left to do was return to your task, hoping that the very invasive thought of Iwaizumi’s well-built arms would get out of your head.

There was a tap on your shoulder.

“Hm?” You turned to look at him.

He held up two DVD cases. “Blade Runner, or Back to the Future?”

You glanced between the two of them intently. “Huh?”

“We should take a break,” he suggested.

“Ah,” you nodded. “Which one’s less depressing?”

“Uh…” Iwaizumi looked between the two of them. “Back to the Future. Definitely.”

“I wanna watch that one, then.”

Iwaizumi nodded, turning around and turning the TV on.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Watching a movie with Iwaizumi, huh? Now that was dangerous territory. This time, at least, you knew to put a pillow between the two of you.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #tiny love #an hour and 20 minutes late but it's up #sorry about that lads

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hockeywhhores · 4 years ago

Text

best for you- t. seguin

Tyler Seguin x f!Reader

warning~ swearing, smut, female and male receiving, alcohol consumption, pushy waiter

summary~ A pushy bartender gets you thinking about Tyler and what you want next with him.

genre~ friends with benefits to lovers, smut

word count~ 2.6K

valentine’s week masterlist

main masterlist

As Tyler spent more time in Dallas, he found himself getting lonely. Insert you; you had just recently gotten out of a long-term relationship and were just looking for no strings attached sex. You had met when you started interning for the Dallas Stars, but left after deciding public relations wasn’t for you, you stopped interning. The guys liked you though, so you got invited to most of the social gatherings. You promptly got closer to Tyler due mostly to the fact you were both young and single. After getting close enough with Tyler, you both quickly jumped into a friend with benefits situation. No one but Jamie knew about what would happen behind closed doors.

Tonight was no different. Tyler had invited you to some club to celebrate their recent win. You knew you wouldn’t be making it back to your own apartment that night. You never did anyway. When all of this started, you both promised to end it if one of you got feelings, and you certainly were not successful. Tyler could say the same thing. Getting ready didn’t take long due to you already being ready from earlier in the day. The only thing that changed was your shirt. You went from being in a simple white blouse to Tyler’s jersey. The Uber you ordered was quickly at your curb, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Everyone was coming straight from the game, and usually you would be with them, but you had got stuck at work. Tyler was already texting you wondering where you were, and you put his mind to ease saying you were headed over.

The club was packed. Bodies were everywhere, you could hardly find the group of hockey players. You weren’t disappointed when you found Tyler in the crowd. Tyler was talking with Jamie when you snuck up on them. They were both dressed in their pregame suits. Tyler was looking as good as always. “Boo!” you cheered out. Tyler turned around so quickly, you thought he might’ve given himself whiplash.

“Hey! I was wondering where you were!” Tyler's grin was huge and contagious. You smiled just as big.

“Ya, my Uber got stuck in traffic.” you sighed out an explanation, “Hey Jamie! You both played so well tonight. I had time to catch the third period while I was leaving work.”

“Thanks y/n. Do you want anything to drink?” Jamie cut in.

“Just put your drinks on my tab tonight.” Tyler added on. You smiled at him in thanks. You never wanted Tyler to feel as if you were using him for his money. You turned around to order, when the bartender got closer. “You are wearing my jersey.” Tyler said.

“Yeah. I thought I should since you were such a big star tonight.” you explained. You thought nothing of wearing his jersey when you had put it on. Tyler loved seeing his last name on your back. It made him feel proud.

“Well, let me just say you look hot.” he whispered into your ear while he played with your hair. You swear you blushed redder than a tomato.

“How long do we have to be here, before I can treat my big star for his monumental work?” you questioned him.

“Give it an hour or two. They’ll be drunk enough they won't even notice when we leave.” Tyler guessed.

“Tell Jamie he might want to find somewhere to sleep for the night.” you chirped.

“I don’t think he’ll have a problem with that.” Tyler said as he pointed to Jamie, who was talking up some brunette on the other side of the bar.

“Prefect!” you cheered. The bartender had finally come back with your drink and set it on the counter.

“You have pretty hair.” The bartender told you, as you thanked him for your drink. He had completely ignored Tyler, who was at your side.

“Thank you.” you said again and turned away before anything could happen. When you and Tyler had started hooking up, your dating life came to a complete halt. You didn’t feel the need to get a one-night stand, you were perfectly content with Tyler. Tyler knew who to use his body, he also knew your body. You thought about when you first asked him to try you up. You felt yourself getting wet. This was going to be a long two hours.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Tyler asked when he saw you turn bright pink. You just winked at him and walked over to his teammates. You wanted to play with him a little. You could hear them all talking about hockey.

“No more hockey! You guys need at least one night free of that outrageous sport.” you shouted as you got closer. A lot of the guys answered in cheering your name as you smiled and waved. Jason was seated on one of the end seats and pulled you into a quick side hug. When you came out of the hug, you felt Tyler’s hand pull you into his side by your hip. You gave him a questioning look, but he didn’t even look at you.

“Lets go dance, y/n!” Lauren excitingly demanded as she grabbed your hand. You decided to go and let loose a bit. You were dancing with Lauren for what feels like forever, and to be fair, it was long enough to finish sipping on your drink. You headed back to the bar. The same bartender was there, and you just tried to get this over with. You weren’t in the mood to get hit on by random men.

“Another vodka redbull, please.” you politely asked.

“Coming right up, beautiful.” you rolled your eyes and waited for him to make your drink. “Anything else I can get you? Maybe I can get your number?” he asked.

“I’m good, thank you.” you denied.

“Come on, please. It's just your number.” he tried to convenience you.

“I have a boyfriend.” you informed him.

“Oh, come on. The douche you were with earlier. I’m so much better than him.” he pressed on.

“I am extremely happy with him. He treats me so much better than you could ever.” you just walked away. Heading back to Lauren. “Hey, Lauren, I think I’m going to sit down for a while.” you told her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Yeah. The bartender wasn’t taking no for an answer, and I want to sit with Tyler.” you explained. She just nodded and walked you back to the table. “Hey, Ty, Can you take me home?” you asked him quietly.

“Of course. Are you okay?” he asked

“Yeah, I just want to go home.” you said. Tyler got up in a flash and said bye to all of his teammates. You just waved. You had let him lead you out of the club, with his arm around your waist. You didn’t even care about what others might be thinking. Tyler held you close as he ordered an Uber. You were shivering. When you left the house you didn’t even think about grabbing a coat, but standing out in the chilly night you regretted that decision. He could feel you shivering, and after he had the car ordered, he pulled you in as close as he could. He even tried to get you to wear his jacket, but you said you were fine in his arms. So he just held you until the car came.

“What happened?” he gently asked while holding your hand.

“The bartender was being creepy and just out right disrespectful.” you explained. “He told me I should give him my number, and when I said you were my boyfriend, he told me about how he would treat me better than you. Fuck. It's just so annoying.” Tyler’s heart warmed when he heard you had told him you were his girlfriend. He wanted so badly for that to be the truth, but you were looking for a no string-attached relationship.

“I’m sorry, y/n” he said as his hand tightened around yours. You just lay your head on his shoulder, sinking into him.

“Are we going back to yours or mine?” you asked.

“I put my address in, but do you want me to change it to yours?” he countered.

“No, yours is fine.” you signed, resting onto him deeper. Tyler always tried to remind himself that he wasn’t good enough. He drank way too much, was covered in tattoos, and was traveling half the year. So even if you had felt the same for him, you didn’t deserve him. You deserved a nice guy who could be there for you.

When you got back to his house, you took charge. You rarely took charge in the bedroom, but you decided you wanted to tonight. You grabbed his blazer and pulled him into a hard kiss. He kissed back just as hard and pulled you closer by the hips. The dogs came to greet you, which made you pull away. You bent down to pet Gerry, while Tyler started talking to Cash and Marshmallow. Tyler led you to the bedroom and closed the door. You pulled him back into the kiss. You then started pulling off his suit blazer and unbuttoning his shirt. You started pulling off the jersey, but he stopped your hands.

“Keep it on.” Tyler demanded. You just nodded and unbuckled his belt. Sinking down to your knees and dragging down his suit pants. He was left in his boxers, and your mouth and pussy were growing wet. You left some sloppy wet kisses on the outside of his boxer, right on his tip. “Don’t play with me, Princess.”

“I would never, Daddy.” you innocently replied to him. You let the idea of you being dominant leave your mind. You dragged his boxers down and connected your mouth to his now fully exposed tip. Tyler grabbed the back of your head, and you let him lead your head. He started going faster, and you were gagging on him. He was long and thick, and hitting your gag reflex with ease. You played with his balls, while tears were escaping your eyes. You loved when he fucked your face. He was close to cumming, you could tell by the way he slightly slowed his thrusts. You started speeding up your movement, wanting him to cum soon. You kept going unto he coated your mouth with his seed. Tyler never expected you to swallow, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it hot when you did. You swallowed, staring him in the eyes as you did so.

“You are killing me, Princess.” he groaned, and you smiled. “Get on the bed, let Daddy reward you.” You rushed back to the bed, and he pulled your jeans off when you got situated. Seeing your white lace panties made his dick spring. “Did you wear these for me?” you nodded, but he gave your pussy a slap when you didn’t answer.

“Just for you, Daddy.” you admitted. He smiled, happy with your answer. With feather light touches he pulled down your underwear. He loved seeing you squirm in his arms. After your panties were gone, he teased you by kissing your inner thighs. “Tyler. Please.” you begged him. You yelped when you felt a sting go through you. He had slapped your pussy again, but this time harder.

“That’s not my name.” he reminded you.

“I’m sorry! I meant Daddy!” you moaned out when you felt him kiss right above your clit. “Please.” you moaned again. Then you finally felt his lips attach to your clit. You were a moaning mess, and it only got worse when he pushed his fingers into you. He found your g-spot easily. Tyler knew your body like it was his. It was his. He was the one you called, and you haven’t even thought about sleeping with someone else in months. Tyler got you screaming when he pumped his fingers into you fast and was sucking on your clit. You felt like you were in heaven. It only lasted a couple seconds before you were cumming, and you were cumming hard. You were screaming his name. Your legs were shaking, and you had to push him off of you when the pleasure had started to sting.

“That was amazing, Doll.” he complimented you. You blushed and tugged him up so you could kiss him. He kissed you hard, and when you reached for down to play with him, you heard one of his dogs scratch at the door. “Fuck.” Tyler sighed out.

“Go open the door for them. We can finish later.” you swept the loose hair that had fallen into his eyes. He did as you said, and you took off the jersey, and put his white button down on your body instead. Later came and went with you and him cuddling in the bed watching some movie. The dogs had joined in, they all found their own places in little coves in the bed. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we put real labels on this” you quietly asked.

“What?” Tyler thought he misheard you, but when he saw you looking up at him with your loving eyes, he knew he heard you correctly.

“Nevermind. Please forget what I just said. We promised not to catch feelings.” you panicked.

“I think about it all the time.” he confessed. “I think about what it would be like to come home to you and the dogs every day. I messed up and caught feelings, but I’m no good for you. You could find someone so much better than me.”

“Tyler. You do not get to decide what is good for me. I’m so sick of men deciding what's good for me. You treat me like a princess. I can’t think of anyone who makes me feel the way you do.” you professed. You got up on your elbows and made sure his eyes didn’t leave yours. “I love you, Tyler.”

“I love you too, y/n. I just wished I didn’t have to leave so much. You need someone that will be there when you need them.” Tyler said.

“No. You were there for me, when my shower head broke, even though you were all the way in fucking Canada. You sat on facetime with me while I messed around with the pipes, before just telling me where your spare key was, so I could use yours. You are there for me more than you realize.” tears were now falling down your cheeks. Why couldn’t he see how good he was to you? “Please, just give us a shot.” Tyler nodded, and you grinned. The kiss was slightly salty because of your tears, but your happiness was overpowering it.

“I just want what's best for you, y/n.” he explained.

“you are what’s best for me.” you proclaimed, kissing his cheek.

“Okay, but the first time I fuck up you need to dump my ass.” he said.

“I will agree to that, because I know you wouldn’t fuck up,” you explained, “Well, not too badly.” you giggled, which got a smile back on his lips. You fell asleep in his arms with the dogs at your feet, and the light sound of the TV in the background.

finished

#tyler seguin #Tyler seguin x reader #Tyler seguin imagine #Tyler seguin smut #dallas stars #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #hockey fic #hockey boys #my writing

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years ago

Text

Inception: Chapter 7

Regardless of your persistence to avoid Childe, you noticed that he intentionally walked along the same paths to 'run' into you just as you intentionally chose different paths to work every day to avoid seeing him. To be honest, it was a bit stalker-ish. But one fierce glare from you, and his confidence deflates like a balloon as he gives up on the idea to talk to you. He was just as stubborn as you though, and would continue this pattern every day despite your continuous rejection. You still hadn't said a word to him since that day in Mondstat.

At one point you discovered a new tactic to keep him at a distance; walk around areas of Liyue where Fatui are most prominent. Childe would almost immediately be called over or consulted over various matters from his underlings, and you were able to lose him for the day.

It was late one night when you finally left the funeral parlor; you didn't need to stay so long, but working on filings diverted your mind from the present occurrences. Your footsteps were quiet along the dimly lit streets of Liyue as you made your way past Liuli Pavilion. Despite it being the middle of the week, there were several Fatui agents drinking and making a ruckus at the outside seating area--laughing, cursing, and a bunch of slurred gibberish you couldn't quite catch.

That was when your stomach growled and begged for food that it hasn't gotten all day. By the time you'd get back to your apartment you wouldn't have the energy to cook, so you decided it'd be best to get a meal-to-go from the Pavilion despite the annoying customers blocking the door. You reluctantly made your way up the steps when one of the drunkards called out you.

"Hey! Waitress! Where's our damn order?" The man impatiently slammed his pint onto the table out of the corner of your vision. He had to be the least sober of the group.

"That's not the waitress, dumbass. She's clearly a customer."

"No," interjected the third. "That's Master Childe's woman." Apparently Childe's coworkers had picked up on your relationship with the harbinger much sooner than you figured out his true identity.

You finally reached the door handle and twisted it open, but a hand slammed above your head to keep it shut. "Childe's girl, huh?"

"Kliment, you know better than to screw with Childe's shit," the third man warned. "You continue with this, he's gonna kill you."

"I'm not his girl," you spat, meeting the devilish crazed eyes of the man pinning you against the door. "Back off, I'm starving."

"Not his girl," Kliment scoffed with a lopsided smirk as he glared down at you. "You hear that, Charlie? This is the chick everyone's been talking about. The one that's got him slacking off on our missing agents and that stupid vigilante that's still running around."

"You've got the wrong chick, asshole." This seemed to agitate Kliment, and he leaned in way too close for comfort.

"I don't give a damn whether you belong to Childe or not. Since there's no getting through his thick skull, maybe this will get him to do his job."

"Kliment, what are you saying?" Charlie, the second agent, shifted uneasily in his seat. "Leave the girl alone. You're drunk."

"All I'm sayin' is a little rough-up would get Childe to take his responsibilities seriously. An eye-opener, if you will." Kliment raised your head to look at him by putting a thumb beneath your chin. "Though if you have any valuable relics on you, which I doubt, you may sway me from hurting this little face of yours. I really do just care about money; this matter doesn't interest me."

Your stomach sank when you remembered your empty pockets. Your vision sat at home in your kitchen drawer tonight, so there was no way you could fight the three of these guys with your pyro energy and you'd lack the fire resistance it provided. You never relied on it anyway; with your combat skills, you might be able to take them out somehow. There's silverware on the table...plates, knives, forks, even the empty pints that lay strewn about. And there'll be witnesses that might jump in to help.

But most of all, you were angry. This is how undisciplined Aja--Childe's men are. You were right all along; there are no 'good' Fatui; that'd be an oxymoron, impossible, senseless. So when Kliment threatened you with his foul alcoholic breath burning your nostrils, an almost devilish smile stretched across your face.

You leaned in and whispered in a low voice so that he'd be the only one to hear you. "Valuables? You mean like that precious Fatui mask of yours?"

The gears turned in his head for a few seconds, then his expression of confusion switched to disbelief, and finally to seething anger. "You--! You're the bitch that stole my mask--!" His hand flew to your throat and squeezed.

"Kliment! What're you doing?!" Charlie bolted upright before charging to get him off of you. "You're gonna get us in trouble! Cut it out!" Before he could reach the two of you, you landed a strike to Kliment's throat that loosened his grip and sent him gagging. "Klime--"

Your attack apparently prompted the third agent to get up from his seat and he proceeded to launch himself not at you or Kliment, but at Charlie. The two collided and crashed over another table where a romantic dinner was taking place. The nameless agent was yelling incoherently about Kliment being right while they threw punches.

I guess those two will take each other out? Your attention refocused on Kliment, who was now able to inhale a decent amount of air to lunge at you full force into the pavilion door. Your head slammed into the wood with an unsettling crack, but the adrenaline made it impossible to tell if it was the wood or your skull making that awful noise. You blocked a punch directed at your jaw. He drove his knee to your stomach, but you swayed just enough so it slid past your side and into the door. Your elbow jut into his ribcage, then his kidney, then you pulled his head down hard onto your knee. He crumpled to the floor.

The shouting of the patrons, waiters, and other staff were quiet compared to the heartbeat drumming in your ears. They stood and gawked at the damage the entire group was making, but they did not dare to intervene. You scanned the surroundings for those other two Fatui. The one named Charlie was knocked out cold. "Where--Ngh!"

A fist held your hair tight at the top of your head and drove you face-first into a table to your left. "You're definitely Childe's woman if you can hold your own against an agent. You have my respect for that...But this needs to be done to get his head out of the gutter!" Another slam against the table, and white clouded your vision. Somewhere in your peripherals Charlie had snapped out of his daze and scrambled to his feet to leave you and the rest of the pavilion behind.

Looks like that agent learned a lesson from going against the flow of the Fatui and abandoned the idea of helping you.

Your fingernails clawed into the agent's gloved fist to no avail. You couldn't even kick at him with how he pinned you to the table, but luckily he decided to pull you upright and throw you to the ground. There's a chance to strike him now.

Or at least, there was. Just as you flipped over to kick him away from you, his boot crashed down on your face hard. The sickening crack of your nose against the force made your vision darken completely.

Childe was just about finished with his work for the day and nodded farewell to the secretary behind the front desk of the Northland Bank. He barely reached the exit when the double doors burst open and an injured agent began blabbering about something while out of breath.

"...Ha...haah...fight...Agent Kliment...your...girlfriend..." Charlie managed to wheeze out the most important details first and didn't miss the cold expression that enveloped Childe's face.

"Excuse me?"

"--The Pavilion! Hurry!" The words barely got past his lips as Childe bolted out the door. Charlie chased after him despite his lungs begging for air. He could barely keep his superior in view.

The chaos that greeted the pair sent a chilling thrill down Childe's spine. A few additional agents had joined the scene and were trying to keep the others at bay while others aided so that a Liyue citizen was the sole target. Childe had no problem reminding his agents of their place in the food chain and that they were more expendable than the innocent, but the glimpse of your face getting kicked in made something snap inside him. He was still several feet away from the scene and many witnesses were yelling for the fight to stop. It wouldn't be long before the Millileth would arrive.

Childe held an unreadable air about him as a single hydro blade manifested in his hand. He spared none of his strength when he threw it at the man that towered over you. The man let out a strangled cry as it impaled his shoulder into the wooden door. "Now now," a cruel empty tone left Childe's lips as he approached with a deadpanned expression. Everyone stopped throwing their punches when they recognized the voice. "I don't suppose there's a reasonable explanation behind this, is there?"

"M-Master Childe!" The Fatui agents bowed over and saluted the harbinger while the bystanders parted for him. "This is--"

Childe ignored their stutters and made a beeline for the half-conscious girl on the floor. He knelt and lifted your chin slightly. Sorry girlie, but there's no way I'm just going to let you walk home from this no matter how much you hate me right now. Your lips were busted and swollen, your nose red and bloody, not to mention broken...The tears that obscured your vision made it difficult to see him, no doubt.

A cold, chilling anger like Snezhnaya's weather washed over the harbinger while he estimated your condition. Then he stood up and announced with a voice almost too quiet to hear at first. "Every agent here is to report to my office immediately."

"But Master Childe, she was--"

"--She started--"

"I tried to stop them from hurting her--"

Childe faced them with a death glare. "My office. Now." Everyone gulped in fear. "And if any of you decide to run off and hide, I will hunt you down. Go." The bystanders were whispering things amongst themselves as they watched the agents sprint for the bank. Then, the harbinger faced the man that was still writhing against the wall. "What's your name?"

"Hongqi--GAH!" Childe violently ripped his blade out as he looked the agent in the eye.

"Well, Hongqi, you've made quite the first impression on me. Unfortunately for you," Childe swiped his fingers across the blood that coated the blade, "it was the bad kind." Hongqi nodded and shuffled to the direction of Northland Bank. Childe watched him before giving one last glance to the bystanders that were directing the Millelith in this direction from across the street.

A small wheeze from his feet grabbed Childe's attention and he knelt beside you once more. "...leave me...alone."

"You know I'm not the kind of man to leave a beaten girl alone on the streets." The touch of his fingers grazing your cheek made you wince.

It was only when you caught the sight of the authorities drawing closer that you raised your voice. If he wouldn't leave you, this called for a more drastic approach. "H...Help! Help!" Despite your injuries your arms flailed about in an effort to push Childe away from you. This earned a confused yet hurt expression from Childe, but you couldn't care less. Why should you?

This was his fault. These men are under his supervision. He failed you. Again.

Despite your weak attempt to get away from him, Childe scooped you up in his arms and disappeared from the scene as quickly as he had appeared before the Millelith could catch up. Somewhere along the way you lost consciousness, and Childe was able to get into your apartment thanks to the keys that were in your jean pocket. He lay you down on your bed as carefully as possible before finding and wetting a towel to clean your wounds.

"I'm gonna need you to lie still while I do this," he warned before pressing the damp cloth to your bloodied lips.

"...can do this myself. Get out."

"I never said you weren't capable of handling the aftermath yourself, girlie. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you do it yourself." He brushed the hair out of your face and continued to wipe away at the blood and dirt on your skin. The ticking of your wall clock was almost aggressive in filling the silent room.

"This is all your fault."

His movements slowed if only for a moment. Was that really what you thought? Was it really his fault? His men were always disciplined, or at least they were to the best of his knowledge. But tonight proved otherwise, and it proved yet again that he's still hurting you. The missing men, the rowdy behavior of the agents, even the bank heist...something doesn't add up. They're connected somehow, but where was the connection?

"Rest assured they will be thoroughly punished." This earned an eyeroll from you that he pretended not to notice. "Your nose needs to be reset, but I'm assuming you'd rather do it yourself."

"You're finally catching on."

"I need to return to my office now. Don't hesitate to get ahold of me if you need anything." It was unnecessary to say so since he doubted you'd need him anymore, but he said it just in case.

"Good riddance." Your gaze followed his movements past the kitchen and to the door. Childe's hand hovered above the doorknob for a second. You weren't able to hear whatever he mumbled next and were too stubborn to ask him to repeat himself. Then, you were met with only the sound of your wall clock ticking the night away.

...........

"Master Childe!" The secretary to the Northland Bank greeted the harbinger at the door. "What happened? A few men came rushing in with injuries--Should I get medical aid?"

"Don't bother with them." The cool anger was so obvious upon his demeanor that she clammed up and nodded. "Their injuries are not severe enough to require medical attention. They're a waste of resources."

"Y-yes, sir. Is there anything I can get you?" She closed the doors once he entered.

"A room alone with them would be excellent." The lady scampered away. When Master Childe is angry, it's best to leave him to his own devices and keep quiet. No one wants to be in the way or make him any angrier since he already has a problem with his temper...

"Master Childe," the troublesome Fatui agents bowed their heads and knelt before him.

"I want a full description of what incited your unsightly actions." Childe scanned their faces one by one until he landed on Charlie. "You. Speak."

"Everyone was drunk beyond belief, sir." He was still bleeding from behind his ear as he spoke and ignored the tickling of the blood that trickled down to his neck. "Kliment thought that woman was a waitress, but then Hongqi said she was your girlfriend."

"That bitch admitted to being the person that's been inconveniencing us the past few months and stealing our property!" Kliment jumped to his feet and faced the harbinger directly. "If she's really your girl, it'd explain why you haven't done anything to catch her! You're a disgrace to the harbingers, to the Tsaritsa, to--"

BAM. A fist collided with Kliment's jaw and he stumbled backwards onto his butt. Blue eyes as pale as ice stared him down. "I don't remember asking for your input. Seeing as though you still haven't sobered up, I have reason to doubt whatever comes out of your mouth. Hongqi," Childe's glare flicked to the agent that knelt to Kliment's left, "why were you beating a defenseless woman when she was already down?"

Hongqi was putting pressure on the arm that had been impaled by Childe's hydro blade. "I don't care about whether she's involved with those acts of vandalism, but I do share Kliment's view about you. You've been slacking off, sir. I thought this would send a clear message--"

"Let me get one thing through your thick skulls," the harbinger interrupted with an edge in his voice. "That girl and I are not involved with each other. And I don't condone senseless violence against the innocent." His gaze was sharp like that of a predator scouting his prey. The sound of his footsteps pacing across the tile floor filled the silence between sentences. "Thanks to your carelessness I'll have to clean up the mess you all made. What do you think the Millelith will do when they hear details of this incident? What do you think the Qixing will make of it? We're already scorned as it is."

"No thanks to you and Osial," muttered Kliment. A pointed look shut him up quick.

"It's become clear to me tonight that the Tsaritsa doesn't need you to complete her mission. Hongqi, Kliment, you're dismissed. Don't show your faces to me again."

"W-What?! Sir, we--"

"You're not my harbinger anyway. I'll just go tell the Fair Lady about your pathetic actions," Kliment growled through a clenched jaw.

"By all means, go ahead. Of course if you have this much of an issue with your punishment, you could always take me on in a fight. Well? What'll it be, gentlemen?" Their silence and averted eyes gave him the answer. "That's too bad. I've been itching for a proper workout. Get out of my sight."

"Sir, what shall I do?" Charlie's voice was hesitant and barely audible after he watched his former comrades vacate the bank in an uproar. Careful, now. Wouldn't want to say anything that could anger the man further...

"Relax," Childe briefly flicked his gaze to the agent with a sly smile. "I have no need to punish you. In fact, you seem to be the only one here that has their head on straight. You have my gratitude for bringing the matter to my attention and standing up for that woman."

"Your...gratitude?"

"Of course. Don't let it get to your head, though. An inflated ego will only work against you on the battlefield."

......................

"Hey. Kliment."

"Can you believe that, Hongqi? He just threw us out like we're the bad guys! I swear to the Tsaritsa I'll show that loser a piece of my min--"

"Yeah about that. Shall we get away from the prying ears of Liyue?" Hongqi nodded to an alleyway that was to the left of the stairs that led up to the Northland Bank.

Kliment scoffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What, now you're self-conscious of sharing your opinion on Childe?" Yet he followed the man's lead anyway until they were both obscured in the shadows.

The silver eyes of Hongqi almost appeared to glow in the dark as he faced Kliment in a serious manner. "There's a certain group of Fatui that have grown weary against the Tsaritsa. This group is planning something big, and their goal is to uproot the Fatui's reputation first in Liyue, then they'll move on to Mondstat. I happen to have a few connections."

"A group of unfaithful Fatui? What are you talking about?" But then it clicked. "Wait, you don't mean..."

"Those who've gone missing in our ranks have simply created a new organization tasked with creating chaos to ruin the Fatui's reputation until it disintegrates into dust." Hongqi sent a quick glance to the lighted street outside of the alley before returning his attention. "Seeing as though Childe has disrespected us both, there's a chance we could get back at him for his tyranny. The leader of the group is quite rich and compensates his members like there's no tomorrow."

"Huh. I didn't know you that well even in the ranks, but I think we could be great friends, Hongqi."

#wesimpforxiao #childe x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #childe #childe tartaglia #genshin impact #inception #wesimpforxiaoupdates

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night-fallz · 4 years ago

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We’re Tired of Him

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Description:

It was pretty easy to dislike Damian Wayne. He was an arrogant, stuck-up brat. So when the Titans get a chance to gain blackmail material on him, they took it, along with his brother's eagerly joining in.

They couldn't wait to see the look on Damian's face when he realizes that they know every little secret he has. Who knows. Maybe they can finally get the brat to shut up or if they're lucky, they might be able to force him to quit being Robin.

Or that one time Damian's teammates and brothers decide to spike his drink so they could use Damian's secrets against him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

We’re Tired of Him (Part 1)

Wally does not remember a single time where the Titans have completed a mission without him feeling annoyed or irritated at Robin.

It wasn’t a secret to anyone in the superhero community that speedsters weren’t patient people. They had too much energy pent up in their system to sit still for more than five seconds.

Which is why you shouldn’t expect much from them when you bring them to a discrete, cover-ops mission.

Everyone knew that.

At least, everyone except Damian fucking Wayne.

Wally never liked the new Robin and he didn’t try to hide that fact.

He’d make snide comments behind the kid’s back, purposely being loud so that Damian knew what he thought of him.

Hell, he’s even told Damian straight to his face that no one liked him. But the kid wasn’t affected; he only dismissed Wally with a roll of his eyes and a simple ‘tt’.

As if Wally was nothing but an ant standing in his way.

It annoys him that the kid doesn’t respond to his remarks, but he doesn’t regret making them.

In his head, Damian deserved it.

Who in their right mind decides to abduct someone to force them to join a reincarnation of an old superhero team.

At least come up with a new name!

Wally never wanted to join the brat’s team anyways and he might’ve changed his mind and stayed in the end, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he was forced to be in it.

Despite the fact that the kid might’ve apologized, Wally still hasn’t forgiven him. And frankly, he thinks that he never will.

Especially if he kept it up with the attitude.

The moment the rest of the team stepped into the main lobby, he couldn’t stop the complaints that rolled off of his tongue.

“He’s such a brat,” he couldn’t help but growl out, the disgust clear on his voice. “Like how can someone be such a dick!”

Wally felt some of his anger vanish as his words caused the room to be filled with laughter. It was always nice to know that he wasn’t the only one that had a strong distaste for their team leader.

Though, to be fair, a lot of people didn’t get along with Damian Wayne. He knows for a fact that a lot of them just put up with him because his dad’s Batman.

The more Wally thought about it, the more he wondered if the brat actually had friends.

While Damian was rather close with Djinn, along with Superman’s son, Jon. They were also some of the sweetest people that he’s ever had the chance of meeting. So maybe they just felt bad for the kid.

It made sense in his mind.

After all; who in their right mind would want to be friends with Damian?

Emiko’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “What did the kid do now?”

He couldn’t contain the smirk that made its way onto his face, he loved it when they bonded over how much they disliked the new Robin.

And judging by how Emiko and Crush mirrored his expression, he knew that he wasn’t the only one that felt that way.

“He goes and gets mad at me for being incompetent or something. Like it’s not my fault I wasn’t raised by a crazy old hot assassin lady.”

Wally knew that he wasn’t being fair. That Damian couldn’t control how he was raised. And that there was a high chance that Damian could hear him- could hear them- tearing him apart.

But in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted the brat to hear him. He wanted the kid to know that even if he was Batman’s son, a majority of them still didn’t like him.

That they only put up with him because they had to.

Not because they wanted to.

There’s a fucking difference between the two and Wally needs Damian to know that.

Crush jumped on the couch, imitating Damian’s pose as she mocked his words, “If you don’t halt your tongue you useless speedster, you will perish under my sword.”

She swung her imaginary sword into the air, pretending to slice Wally’s neck.

He played along, fanning his face as he forced his eyes to roll back before his back hit the soft cushions of the couch.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Djinn and Roundhouse trying to hold in their laughs.

He couldn’t say that he was surprised that they were so reluctant to make fun of their so-called leader, out of everyone in the Titans, they were the ones that tolerated the brat the most.

He saw Roundhouse’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he tried to hold in a groan as he heard the uneasy tone come out of his teammate’s mouth, no doubt feeling bad for laughing at the expense of ridiculing one of his favorite heroes.

“Why are you guys so mean to the small man?”

It was such an innocent question, but it made Wally’s blood fill up with such rage.

What they’re doing isn’t mean. It was well deserved. Plus, if Damian cared, he would’ve yelled at them already.

They’ve never been quiet when it came to mocking the youngest bat.

Emiko snorted, her dark hair framing her face, “Please, that wannabe is barely a man.”

He hid a smile, muttering a “That’s all he is, though. A wannabe.” as he stared at the floor.

A wannabe friend.

A wannabe leader.

A wannabe hero.

Sure Damian was trying, but that didn’t mean he was succeeding.

He would never be as charming as Nightwing.

He would never be as good of a fighter as Red Hood.

He would never be as smart as Red Robin.

He was just Damian.

The kid with the big attitude that everyone around him had to put up with.

Emiko leaned her back onto the couch, arms on the back of her head. “You guys wanna know what Roy told me,”

Wally found himself nodding, along with the others as she continued. “He said that even his own brothers don’t like him. They just put up with him to make their dad happy. Actually, probably even his own father doesn’t want him.”

“You’re probably right.” Wally laughed, not registering just how hurtful his words could be. “I mean, didn’t his mom just force Batman to take him. The guy probably didn’t have a choice.”

It wasn’t like what he said was wrong.

He remembers Dick complaining to him about it. How an assassin came out of nowhere with Damian and just gave him to Batman, who gave Dick the task of training the spoiled brat who just wouldn’t listen.

Those were Dick’s words, not his.

“That must be tough,” he heard Crush huff, “Being tossed around like trash.”

Wally found himself nodding in agreement, “He probably deserved it.”

Djinn cut in before his mouth said something he would regret, “That’s just plain mean.”

The look she gave him actually made him feel bad so he found himself muttering a quiet, “sorry” before sitting next to Emiko on the couch, who looked like she was holding in her laughter.

Roundhouse spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention towards the blue-skinned kid. “If you guys don’t like Damian so much, why don’t you just leave.”

Emiko only shook her head in amusement, “I’m still friends with you guys,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I’m not going to leave just because a kid is acting like- well, a kid.”

And even though Wally knew it was wrong. He couldn’t stop the dark thrill that curled up his stomach to know that even if Damian was the chosen leader for the team, he would never acquire the close bond that they all had with each other.

Crush rolled her eyes, “The kid’s a spoiled brat. And that’s it. No explanation needed.”

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you guys just try to get to know him more?” Djinn asked, “I know that he’s not as bad as you think he is.”

Wally held in the laugh threatening to come out of his throat- Damian Wayne? Not being as bad as he thinks he is.

If anything, Damian was probably worse.

Roundhouse bobbed his head in agreement, “Yeah, he’s usually pretty nice to me.”

Crush, Emiko, and Wally exchanged uncertain glances with each other.

Wally doesn’t believe it; Damian Wayne, being nice?

Are they even talking about the same Damian Wayne? The one trained by fucking assassins.

He knows for a fact that his brothers won’t believe it either. And out of everyone else in the superhero community, they’re probably the ones that know Damian best.

But then again, that was only because they had to spend the most time with him. Whether they liked it or not, Damian was a part of their family.

Wally found himself genuinely feeling bad for them.

Djinn tilted her head, “So will you do it? Actually, try to get to know him?”

Crush immediately shook her head, “Yeah. No.”

Djinn furrowed her eyebrows at the instant rejection, “But why not?”

“Damian is well- he’s just Damian.” Emiko intervened. “Even if we put in an effort, he might not put the same amount back.”

“Yeah,” Wally added on. “And unless he’s drunk and shit, we won’t get anything out of him.”

Crush raised an eyebrow at the two, “Why do you think we never invite him when we hang out?”

Roundhouse faltered, giving Djinn a hesitant look. “I just thought he didn’t want to join us.”

“That's probably true as well.” Wally pointed out. “If he did, he would tell us that he’d want to join, you know? He probably thinks that he’s too good for any of us.”

Djinn frowned in disagreement, but this time, she kept her mouth shut.

No one said anything for a while before he noticed Emiko turning to him, “About that comment you made, what if we did get the kid drunk?”

Roundhouse stared at the girl, eyes wide, “Is that even allowed? Or legal? Is that even legal? We’re superheroes. We can’t do illegal things.”

The archer shrugged, “I mean, yeah it can be legal. We just need a trusted adult’s consent. And lucky for us, two of his brothers are legal adults.” she met Wally’s eyes, “You know them better than any of us. Do you think they’ll allow it?”

Wally eagerly nodded, “They probably will. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that they don’t like him that much either.”

That was an understatement.

With all the complaining he’s heard from them, Wally had a feeling that they hate Damian even more than he did.

And he hated the kid a lot.

“Wouldn’t that be betraying his trust?” Djinn asked.

Crush leaned forward, her eyes full of mischief before it quickly disappeared as soon as she met the young girl’s eyes, “Let me tell you a secret, this is something Damian might call a training exercise.” she slowly explained to the two youngest heroes, “In a way, we’re technically gathering information on our target. And in this case, our target is Damian.”

Wally could tell that they were close to convincing them so he softly added on, “Plus, isn’t this technically just a faster way for us to get to know Damian? That’s what you wanted.”

The girl nodded, her lips pursed, and after a few minutes she spoke up, “Okay, let’s do it.” her eyes soon grew troubled. “But what if his brothers end up saying no?”

The speedster waved off the girl’s concerns. “Don’t worry,” he smiled, “This is an opportunity that they probably won’t be able to decline. Trust me.”

Wally’s was confident that they’ll agree to it.

Roundhouse had the biggest grin growing on his face, “We finally get to know more about Robin!” he excitedly said, “He’s always by himself. And he’s quiet. Really quiet”

His eagerness died down, sadly looking at the floor. “Does this mean he doesn’t like us?”

Crush snorted, “I don’t even know kid, I stopped trying to understand the brat a while ago.”

Wally and Emiko nodded in agreement.

The only times they willingly interacted with Damian was on the field. Because even though the kid sucked; he definitely knew what he was doing.

Emiko took her phone out, “I’m pretty sure that the bats have a game night in their little cave tonight.”

The team stared at her confused, “What does that even have to do with the discussion?”

Emiko rolled her eyes, “What I’m trying to say is that all of Damian’s eldest brothers are in their little Batcave.” she spoke slowly like she was talking to a bunch of babies. “Together. Playing a game. Probably without Damian.”

Roundhouse caught on, “So all we have to do is go to the cave and ask them if we can get Robin drunk.”

“How do you even know that?” Crush asked Emiko.

“Roy talks.” The archer shrugged, “A lot… especially if it’s about Jason.”

Crush jumped out of the couch in excitement, “That means we might be able to do this tonight!” She pointed at him, “Wally, go!”

“Right now?”

“Obviously, you dolt.”

“Why me?” he cried out, “You know how protective the bats are of their precious little cave.”

“Wally, go,” she repeated.

He didn’t budge. “Batman will kill me.”

“Batman doesn’t kill.”

“If someone just randomly enters his cave, he will.”

Crush looked like she wanted to punch him, “Wally, I fucking swear. Aren’t you and Nightwing like besties?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Just text the dude in advance,” Roundhouse suggested. “That way no one gets killed, and we get to learn more about Robin.”

Wally sighed, leaping to his feet as he spoke, his tone filled with faux-excitement. “Great, I can’t wait to go-“

His voice trailed off, noticing Damian walking in.

It looked like the brat was about to go use the zeta-tubes but he stopped, his head tilting as his gaze landed on the team, “Can’t wait for what?”

Wally looked around, his eyes desperate for an answer.

Luckily, Djinn answered for him, a bright smile on her face as she addressed Damian’s question. “We’re going to the movies! We wanted to do a bit of team bonding.”

That response made Wally want to laugh.

Don’t get him wrong, it was a believable excuse. It’s just-

He can’t even think of a single time that they invited their “leader” to a team hangout.

He wondered if Damian noticed the fact that they went out of their way to exclude him from everything except for missions.

And If he did, did he care?

His eyes watched as the kid nodded in acceptance. As if they even needed his permission to hang out.

Damian turned his back on them, calling out a “have fun” as he disappeared in a flash of bright light.

Well, that answered his question. Damian looked like he could care less. He didn’t even give them another glance.

He just immediately turned his back on them, walking away as if he owned the place.

It made Wally’s blood boil. Did the brat even notice that no one wanted him around?

He couldn’t wait and see just what secrets the brat hid underneath that perfect, little mask of his.

And Wally couldn’t wait to tear that mask apart.

————————————————————————

Note:

guess who finally started writing the one fic that almost everyone was waiting for.

me!!!

To be honest, I was kinda confused on how I was going to write the events of “I’m fine” from the other’s POV, then I realized that I could just write it using multiple chapters, so that’s what I did.

I know that a lot of people were waiting for this version, so hopefully you guys end up liking this installment, and if you have any comments, suggestions, and feedback, make sure to comment on them.

Also, I feel like I need to mention that, yes- I know that some of the characters are “out of character” in a way. Though, Damian does receive a whole lot of shit from them in the comics so at the same time they kind of aren’t ooc, if that makes sense.

I genuinely just wanted to write a Damian Wayne whump fic that I can go back too and cry about later. So if you don’t like it, then just don’t read it. No need to waste your energy writing hate comments that I’ll probably only laugh at later.

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years ago

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How Katniss Everdeen Got Her Groove Back

Author: @hutchhitched

Prompt 34: Modern AU where a forty year old Katniss has shut herself off from the world from fear of getting hurt. After her sister dies she realizes how isolated she is and now wants to open herself up to love, but hasn’t a clue where to begin. Everlark HEA - the details of how they meet and what Peeta’s been up to are entirely up to you. :) [submitted by anonymous]

Ratings/Warnings: E

The room’s dark. There’s only one small lamp burning in the corner, but that makes the single candle in the cupcake brighter than it would have been if the entire area were lit. It’s a somber celebration, but that doesn’t make much difference. It’s as it should be.

“Happy birthday, dear Katniss… Happy birthday to you.”

As the last note fades into silence, Katniss whispers a birthday wish and blows out the candle.

“Happy birthday to me,” she mumbles. She’s alone and tired and feeling older than she thought she could. In the grand scheme of things, forty isn’t that many years, but the difference between her fourth and fifth decades seems like lightyears. She’s halfway (or more) through life, and she’s hiding from it.

No one could really blame her for running—not with the experiences she’s faced. Her father gone as a young man leaving Katniss, her mother, and her younger sister Prim alone with practically no income and empty stomachs that gnawed at her insides for months as she fell asleep. Her mother falling into addiction to anti-depressants and opiates leaving Katniss to keep the household together so she and Prim wouldn’t be taken by child services and separated. Her beloved sister gone in a house fire that ripped through the apartment building where she’d stayed while enrolled in med school in a neighboring state. That’s enough tragedy for any one person, and that doesn’t even count her own pain and disappointments during the past forty years.

She’s suffered plenty of both. There’ve been days when she has no idea how she continues to function, but she puts one foot in front of the other repeatedly, doggedly, hoping against hope that something will go right for her. The odds should be in her favor, but they never seem to be. Instead, she watches as the world goes by and wonders if she’s brave enough to step back into society and join the rest of the living. She’s been in mourning for long enough.

Forty. It’s a scary number, but it’s also a little motivating. With a shake of her head, she decides. It’s time. Prim would want her to be happy. She’d be furious at the way Katniss has shut herself off from everyone in order to protect herself. If there’s anything that can drive her out of her shell, it’s thinking about the disappointment that would shine in her sister’s eyes if she were still alive.

“It’s time to rejoin the living, Everdeen.”

Her voice is small as it echoes in her empty apartment, but that’s not the intimidating part. What’s terrifying is that she has absolutely no idea how to get back out there. It’s been almost a decade since she bothered, and she can’t help wondering if maybe she’s waited too long. It’s possible there’s an expiration date, and she’s past it.

It’s late, and she’s tired. Heaving a sigh, she heads to her new bedroom and plugs in the airbed to blow it up. Her belongings won’t arrive for another few days, and the thought of sleeping on the hard floor is the reason for her last minute purchase at the local department store. Shaking out freshly laundered sheets as she retrieves them from the dryer, she inhales the clean scent and tucks the corners onto the air mattress. A pillow and blanket that made the cut when she purged her possessions before her interstate move provides a tiny hint of home. Flicking off the overhead light, she closes her eyes and drifts into sleep. She counts the fact that she only wakes from nightmares three times as a win.

****

“I like that there,” she mutters to herself as she adjusts the picture on the shelf to the left of her television. It’s her favorite of the ones she and Prim took together before her sister started med school.

They’d been so happy, arms wrapped around each other and a rare smile gracing her own lips. As it always had, Prim’s grin stretches across her face, and her blue eyes snap with excitement in the image. She deserved so much better than to become a human torch because someone was stupid enough to not know how to douse a grease fire. The senselessness of it all hits Katniss again. Someone cooked dinner, and that act killed her sister. Prim, who only wanted to heal people, died because an idiot didn’t know how to make bacon and then tried to douse the flames with water.

A knock sounds at her door and shakes her out of her reverie. She isn’t expecting anyone, but a second knock convinces her she shouldn’t ignore it. It could be her landlord, and the last thing she wants is a grumpy Haymitch Abernathy yelling at her because she’s inadvertently broken some rule she doesn’t even know exists in the first place. Tossing her braid over her left shoulder, she crosses her apartment and answers the door.

“Can I help you?”

She’s surprised she can get the words out of her mouth. The man standing there definitely isn’t her landlord, and he’s not old, grumpy, or drunk like Haymitch obviously has been every time she’s seen him. The guy standing in front of her must be about her age, maybe a few years younger, and he has shockingly blue eyes which remind her of her sister’s, as well as the same ashy blonde hair that falls in a shock of curls over his forehead. She has the sudden urge to reach up and push them back, but she keeps her hands at her sides. It would be exceptionally inappropriate to grope a total stranger, even if he is standing in her doorway with a smile and a paper bag that smells something like heaven.

“I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark. Your next door neighbor. I brought you some pastries.”

“Pasties?” She squeaks out the word and immediately wants to smack herself. She sounds a little like a mouse, while his voice makes her insides vibrate. Also, what did she just say?

Peeta does a double take before bursting into laughter. “Pastries, not pasties. I’m not into that— Well, I mean…uh… I mean, I could be, but not the first time I meet a woman.”

His face is bright red, but hers feels like it’s flaming. She can’t believe she said that and crosses her arms unconsciously to cover her breasts before uncrossing them just as quickly. She’s not sure which is worse at drawing attention to the fact that she has nipples that pasties would cover, and… Hell, she’s spiraling.

“I’m sorry,” she babbles. “That was unseemly.”

“It’s fine. Hilarious, actually.” He grins and gives her a onceover, which makes her blush even harder.

“Well, pastries make way more sense and smell a lot better. But, why?” She’s not sure if that sounds rude or not, but it’s better than what she’s already blurted.

“I’m a baker,” he offers in explanation. “Just a little welcome to the building, uh…?”

“Uh…?”

She can’t think. He’s staring at her, and it makes her extremely uncomfortable in a very peculiar way. She’s not able to name it, but there’s something bubbling below the surface. If she concentrates really hard, she could probably identify the feeling. However, that’s not an option when Baker Boy is standing there with a perplexed look.

“You are?”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry,” she mumbles. “I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. Just moved in. You probably already knew that. I, uh, thank you. This is great.”

“You’re welcome. Welcome to the building, Katniss, Katniss Everdeen. Let me know if you need anything. I always have eggs and sugar and more.”

“More?”

“Yeah. Think on it.”

With that, he disappears into his own apartment, and she’s left holding the bag. Literally.

In a trance, she crosses to her kitchen and sets the pastries down on the counter. Flustered, she pulls a bun out and sinks her teeth into a little bite of decadence that’s got to be illegal in all fifty states, Canada, Mexico, and half of Europe. It tastes so good it’s sinful. It’s doughy and filled with cheese, and she moans so loudly she wonders if he can hear her through their shared wall.

“Sweet Jesus,” she mumbles. “That’s the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time.”

She sits there with a grin on her face for a stupid amount of time before realizing she’s hungry for more, and it’s not necessarily baked goods she wants.

****

Katniss rounds the corner and smacks into a wall. With a loud oof and a screech, she flails in her attempt to stay upright and keep her groceries from falling around her. Just when she’s about to lose it all, strong arms grab her and pull her upright. Relieved, she looks up and falls into the blue pools of her neighbor’s eyes.

“Easy there,” he says with the hint of a smile. “Where’s the fire?”

She almost says, “In my pants.” She really does, but she’s made a fool out of herself enough with him already. She frees herself from his clutches and congratulates herself on remaining calm, and then she sees what he’s wearing. Which isn’t much.

“Holy hell,” she murmurs at the sight of sweat-soaked skin and form-fitting running shorts.

“Sorry. I just got back from a run.”

“I…yeah. I see that.”

She can see some other stuff, too, and it is impressive. She can’t stop looking at him. He’s absolutely gorgeous, and she’s just told herself a few days ago that she needs to get back out there and has no idea how. She did say that, and here he is. She doesn’t even have to leave her building to find an opportunity. There’s no way she’s this lucky.

“Can I help with those?” He nods at the bags she’s holding and reaches out to take the ones hanging from her wrists. He brushes her hand with his, and her insides sizzle.

“Sure.”

She’s going to seduce him. Or let him seduce her. Or get him drunk and take advantage of him. Or something.

Every single fiber in her body tingles. It feels like waking up after a decade long nap and feeling simultaneously ravenous and powerful beyond belief. As he follows her into her apartment, she scans the area and decides to just go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? Her neighbor hates her? Well, that would be terrible, but she can move. That’s how turned on she is by him. She’ll risk a broken lease.

“You can just put them there,” she says softly and runs her hand down his arm. He freezes and looks at her, and she stands her ground. Maybe she’s not thinking straight, but she wants him. Now.

“Katniss?”

She presses into him and trails a finger down her bare chest. She wipes a sweat droplet from his skin and bites her bottom lip.

“Yes, Peeta?”

“I’m not misreading this, am I?”

She wraps her arms around his neck and tips her head back. “No, I don’t think you are.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” he drawls.

Looking directly at him, she says, “I really hope so.”

“Oh, hell.”

His mouth captures hers in a searing kiss, and she turns off her brain. She has no intention of thinking, only feeling for the next however long. His tongue is in her mouth, her hands are on his ass, and his sweat dampens her clothes.

Peeta hoists her into the air and wraps her legs around his waist. He stumbles backward to deposit her on the edge of the countertop and rucks up her shirt to slide his hands along her waist. Frantic, she tugs at his waistband, indicating she’d prefer he lose the shorts, and he growls into her mouth when she slips them over his hips. She cups his backside, pulling him between her legs and moans against him.

“Please,” she gasps. “Fuck, please.”

He’s frenetic, all power and kinetic energy as he rolls her leggings down her thighs, baring her to him. When she bites his lower lip, he grunts and shoves his hands between her legs. He pushes inside her roughly, and she whimpers at his pace. His thumb’s on her clit, and his middle finger plunders her as their tongues tangle and dance together.

She’s got him in her hand, jerking and tugging as he swells in her palm. It’s a solid weight there, but she wants it inside her. She doesn’t have time to look. She’s too enthralled in what his lips are saying as they mate with hers.

Katniss tugs one of her feet free and yanks him to her with her legs. His shaft is hot against her slit. She begs for him with her hands and body, but he pulls back slightly to catch her gaze.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice ragged and broken. She nods frantically, and he moans in the back of his throat. “I’ll pull out. I promise.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

She’d agree to about anything as long as he gives it to her hard. Then he’s inside her, stretching her as she calls his name. He’s big enough that it’s uncomfortable at first, until her body adjusts to the intrusion and she’s aching for more. By the time she’s relaxed, he’s pumping into her with her name falling from his lips as he bites and licks at her jawline.

“Tug my hair,” she manages to instruct, and he yanks on her braid so hard her eyes water. It’s sexy as hell, and she grapples at his back in an attempt to pull him further inside her. He’s good at this, she realizes. Really good at it, and she thanks her lucky stars she’s the fortunate recipient of such a fantastic experience. He’s doing everything he can to make it good for her, and it really, really, really is.

What they’re doing is so messy, but she doesn’t care. She owns bleach and anti-bacterial cleaning supplies. She just purchased them, in fact, and she’s going to need all of them if the mess between her legs is any indication. She’s quickly losing control, fucking against him as hard as she can.

Skin slaps together, sweat pours off them both, and he nuzzles his face into her shirt. If they had more time, she’d take it off for him—maybe she’ll wear pasties next time just to blow his mind—but they’re careening toward a climax faster than she knows how to handle. She’s desperate for more friction, so eager that she rubs herself as his thrusts stutter and falter.

“I gotta pull out. I’m gonna— shit!”

He yanks free, and she catches the sight of him before her eyes roll back in her head. His skin is pink and glistening with moisture from her body. The first splash of his climax hits warm and wet on her leg, and she arches her back as waves roll through her. Her hand cramps as she contorts it. Her hips buck, and then she’s reaching for him. She clings as her body tenses and releases repeatedly.

When it’s over, she huffs several breaths before blinking open her eyes. Her t-shirt hem has fallen against her thigh, and it’s marked with his ejaculate, as is most of her thigh and stomach. He pants into her ear, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to let her go. That’s fine with her, although it surprises her how affectionate he’s being in the aftermath of a quickie in her kitchen.

“Katniss, that was—”

“Something we need to do again.”

“I think it gives new meaning to the phrase ‘welcome wagon.’”

“Because you want me to ride you next time?”

“Next time?” His eyes are blown wide, his pupils dilated as he realizes what she’s saying. “You want there to be a next time?”

“I’m not sure I want this one to be over.”

He flushes at her suggestion, but he’s a very helpful neighbor. Before he leaves to head back to his own apartment, he cleans up and then eats to his heart’s content. She’s pretty satiated from his visit, too.

#hutchhitched #prompt 34 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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ontheblock · 3 years ago

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it’s my mental illness and i get to chose which character is vent through❗️❗️anyway, i have been struggling with writing the ending of the second part of my latest patrick hockstetter request and since this has been sitting in my notes for a hot minute, i decided to post it. enjoy this little story absolutely nobody asked for<3

night terrors

no warnings ig- maybe alcohol

Summer never really was plagued by night terrors the way Morty was haunted by them. Whenever she did have a bad dream as a little girl, her parents let her cry it out unless she came to their room themselves. The rare times someone did come over was when Beth was blackout drunk and Jerry followed the soft wailing of his daughter to pet her head while he listened to her sob story of a nightmare. It never helped that Jerry basically coddled baby Morty whenever he woke up - a desperate attempt to even out the neglectful way they treated her first child because they were kids themselves. But all of Jerry‘s attempts were fruitless. Summer heard Morty whine and whimper almost every night through the drywall, even more so since Rick arrived. It was ironic for her to turn out fine with her mother’s neglectful ways. Jerry should’ve maybe considered listening to Beth more with Morty. Or maybe it was meant to be like this. Poor fucker. If his nightmares didn’t take form of bullies anymore it was definitely the looming danger of acid drooling monsters or aliens smart enough to conquer their planet if a self-proclaimed god in a lab coat fucked with them. Yeah, that sounded terrifying for a child. Or maybe the thing he feared most was more simple and childish - their grandfather who took out threats like that for breakfast. But tonight wasn’t a night like that. Summer didn’t wake up from Morty hitting his bedroom wall out of reflex. It was some faceless nightmare of her own that sent her lurching upright with a struggle for air. Whatever it was, she didn’t remember much aside from Jerry‘s face and a leathery hand reaching for her out of the black abyss surrounding her but she felt the aftermath of a sprinting heart and sweat sticking her tank top to her back. Her throat was dry enough to make her reach out to her empty bedside table. She never put a glass of water by her bed, but then again she never needed it.

Swiping back a stray hair, Summer pushed her blanket off to stand up on wobbly legs. She made her way over to the door, stepping over the creaky floorboard. The hallway was quiet but as she crept down the stairs, Summer noticed the flickering lights of the TV pouring out the living room. She had half the mind to blackmail Morty about watching TV on a school night but she definitely kept the info in the back of her mind for tomorrow’s breakfast as she avoided more creaky floorboards on her way to the kitchen. The moron even turned down the volume.

"Morty, I swear to god. Your nightly water trips are getting on my- on my last nerve."

Summer blinked once, twice to place the voice. The distinct alcoholic slur and the audible frown was familiar to her even in a sleepy state. And surely, it was Rick. Shuffling closer, Summer could peek over the couch‘s back to see her grandpa lounging in his oil stained wife beater, tinkering with a cube shaped hunk of metal. Like this she could see his hands at work, talented fingers coaxing loosened screws into their threads. He hissed a low "me cago en tu madre" when the phillips head slipped from the screw he was working on. Summer could make out the blue mesh of veins under the withered skin on the back of his hand. Rick really did have the hands of a worker - a mechanic or construction worker. They looked nothing like the office worker hands of Jerry, if he had even that. He seemed to sense her presence - if that was even possible - because his head turned to look at who he assumed to be Morty.

"Summer? What the fuck are you doing here?"

What was she doing here? She came for a glass of water but her throat was less parched now and something about her mysterious grandpa reeled her in like a damn fish. She took her bait and ran her clammy palm over the couch cushion by her grandpa‘s neck. "I woke up, obviously. I had a nightmare. No big deal." Her eyes pointedly stayed on Rick‘s hand holding a screwdriver or the coffee table with half a bottle of whiskey standing next to Rick‘s feet that he casually propped up onto the wood but she never met his gaze. Why was she even this honest? She could make some kind of excuse but it’s been months since her family showed interest in what she was doing. "Nightmare, huh?" Rick echoed her as if to taste the word on the tip of his tongue. Summer wondered if he had nightmares sometimes. She nodded, eyes finally flickering to his face. The TV casted lights and shadows on his old features. Right now he looked normal, not like that crazy scientist with a mean silver tongue that intimidated her the first time they met at the breakfast table. Summer was used to see the hollow green glow following Rick like a fucked up halo or even the zapping blue rays from devices that can both end and create wars. But now the angular features showed a different side. The soft studio lights of some late night show made him look like a regular addition to the family and it helped Summer release her tense shoulders for the first time in a while, like she didn‘t need to be sarcastic or indifferent all the time. A little voice in the back of her head told her that Morty could be his awkward idiotic self so why couldn’t she?

"Why are you up, grandpa?" She leaned her front against the couch back and kept her voice down just in case Morty did wake up again. "I‘m - bergh - well over the age of bed times. This piece of shit is m-more important." Rick averted his gaze and waved the cube in his hand. Summer hummed and reached for it only to have Rick shuffle it to his other hand and hold it out of reach. "Well, what is it? Can it, like, cause mass destruction or something? Or does it contain a totally freaky virus? Or—" Rick shushed his granddaughter and tossed the cube on the coffee table. "Calm your tits, Summer. It‘s- It‘s to cure Granorian crystals. The, the, the-" Rick rotated his hand as if to underline his search for the most simple explanation "-easiest planet to harvest them happens to have the most impure growth." His hand fell into his lap, the other one snatching the whiskey from the table. "You should go to bed. It’s Tuesday." Summer snorted but it sounded off. "Since when are you the responsible grandparent?"

"I‘m not." His gaze locked on the TV again and he knocked back a sip or two of liquor. "Just thought I get one night free of my annoying grandkids." Ouch. Rick delivered both praise and insults in the same gruff tone - not that he had many kind words to spare, save for Beth when he needed to get his way. "What do you need them for? Can’t you just get, yknow, earth crystals?" Rick belched after a deep gulp from the bottle and dismissively waved his free hand in Summer‘s general direction. "Don’t think about it. Do me- just do us a solid; go back to bed, Summer." Rick expected a bit of huffing and a snarky comment before Summer relented and went back upstairs but he saw her unmoving in his peripheral vision. Summer stared down at the couch cushion‘s seam as if it told her whatever kind of questions were important to a girl her age. Probably if that one guy in school liked her or not. Her fingers rubbed over a stain that looked like red wine her mother spilled last Christmas. "I don’t want to. It’s not like I can go back to sleep anyway. Not- It‘s not because of the dream or anything. Just-" Summer stumbled over her words to find any excuse that would save her the embarrassment of admitting she was a little scared to go back to sleep again. She bit the inside of her cheek when Rick cut her off with a long groan. "You really are Jerry‘s kid. You‘re- Y-You know dreams are just- bullshit hallucinatory experiences aaaaall the way up the hippocampus? It’s not- It’s imaginary, Summer. Just your dummy ape brain processing a bunch of shit while you’re asleep." Rick‘s tone was agitated while he gesticulated but he still scooted closer to the left, ultimately creating more space on the couch. Summer didn’t know where dreams came from, she wasn’t interested in it either but she silently rounded the couch to sit down next to her grandfather. Being this close, she would smell the faint whiskey breath and the Old Spice lingering around her. It was nice for once, calming even. "You know, I‘m not staying because I’m scared because that’s totally lame." Rick just grunted in some kind of indifferent agreement but Summer felt the need to clarify her decision even more. "I mean, it’s just a dream. I‘m not a loser like Morty. I don’t piss my own bed. That‘d be totally— gross." Summer turned back to Rick, fully expecting him to not even pay her any mind but when they locked eyes Summer finally shut her mouth. She never saw a look like this one on Rick‘s face. Not even around Morty - who was quite obviously his favorite grandchild and Summer reminded herself that she didn’t care about that.

Right now Rick‘s withered features looked almost soft even though the hard lines on his face didn’t even out at all. Maybe his resting face just looked mean like that - maybe he was frowning for so long that it became the default for Rick. But still, he looked almost fatherly. Summer‘s pathetic little attempt to look tough in front of the most powerful man she knew stirred something dead in his ribcage.

He remembered a tiny Beth sneaking into their old kitchen where Rick was fixing a leak in the sink. A single glance at his wrist watch told him it was time for Beth‘s nap because if Diane didn’t make her take one Beth would be tired and grumpy all evening. He tried to shoo her back to her room but only got a tantrum out of his daughter until he reluctantly set his task aside and laid down on the living room couch with Beth resting on his chest until Diane came back with their groceries.

"Yeah, sure. What - uhrp - Whatever." Rick looked back at the TV and Summer fell into his silence, her back sinking into the soft cushions. She barely followed the plot of whatever Rick was watching. It looked like some 70s war movie with bad explosions and subpar camera quality. Rick didn’t seem to be the type for nostalgia so it probably just happened to be on at this time of night. The dull colors made her lashes feel heavy again and she let her eyes roam the coffee table Rick still used as his footrest. The cube laid by his foot, forgotten until Rick needed to purify his drugs alien crystals. The whisky bottled left a wet little spot on the wood that she knew Rick wouldn’t wipe away. Jerry wanted to replace the table for a week now. Morty‘s latest comics were scattered on the other side of the table. He always left them in the living room because the idiot just has to get distracted two pages in. An unfamiliar pack of Newport Reds Non-Menthol caught her eye and Summer took a quick glance at Rick. If he noticed, he ignored it. Rick did always have the remnants of cigarette smoke on him but Summer never seen him with one before. There was probably a lot that Summer didn‘t know about her grandpa. She wondered how much her mom really knew about him.

The movie crept close to its finale when a warm weight sank onto Rick‘s thigh. He lowered the bottle from his chapped lips to find soft ginger hair draped over his khaki pants. He went still for a moment with his granddaughter‘s head on his lap. This was territory he hadn’t wet his toes in for decades. Rick wasn’t a stranger to the warmth of another body but this was tender and innocent, enough to take him back in time. He downed the last of his whiskey in one gulp and indulged in the hot rush that followed. The credits rolled on the screen while the bottle neck dangled from his bony fingers.

"How drunk are you right now?"

Rick hummed as if he was doing the math in his head before answering. "Wasted." He put the empty bottle on the fuzzy carpet and shimmied his feet off the table without disturbing Summer in her position. Not that he would admit that.

"So in the morning this didn’t happen?"

Rick took his sweet ass time eyeing Summer and weighing out an answer before he gave a low "yeah, Sum-Sum" and looking back at whatever commercial was on. If Rick ever was good at anything it had to be pretending. He could pretend for Summer just this once too.

#rick and morty #summer smith #rick sanchez #fluff #tw alochol

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lustbile-archive · 4 years ago

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Want To Request a Song?

JohnnyxReader

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary/Warning: the third installment of the club x series. Full on public sex and exhibitionism, knife/blood play, and can border on being degrading so read at your own risk. This is also the one best at explaining what tf is going on in club x

Apart of my Club X series: Masterlist

You knew what Club X was way before you even walked through its doors.

A friend of a friend let the details of the gritty part of town spill from her lips when you had gotten together to have drinks and trade gossip in the safety of her apartment. You were equally as guilty of letting your lips loosen from the alcohol swimming in your veins, and you let this girl you knew very little about in on your secret that it had been a while since you had last gotten any. An even longer time since anyone had made you properly come. Why you let her in on such intimate details about your sex life was a mystery, but the advice she shared in response didn’t hurt in the slightest.

“There’s this club you know,” she had said, in a tone that was meant to be a whisper but fell a little short. Her nails that were decorated in chipping polish brushed comfortingly across your shoulder as she wiggled her eyebrows at you, “i’ve only been a few times, but it’s where you need to go if you’re in a desperate need for a fucking.”

You giggled at her choice words, your eyes rolling in disbelief, “so a sex club hm? I don’t know about that.”

“No, no, no,” her words slurred as she returned your laughter, clearly pleased with your doubt, “it’s better than just a sex club. See, you go and it’s like the universe creates the exact person you need right when you walk in.”

“The universe hm?”

“Yeaaaahh. The universe…” her eyes squint as her thoughts drift off momentarily, “like you walk in and they just find you. They find you and it’s like they put this spell on you. It makes you so hot like instantly, and then you’re down to business right then and there.”

“Right then and there?!” you have to admit that you’re humoring her at this point, but you’re still a little scandalized at her words, “like in front of everyone?”

“No! No, no, no,” her hands wave in front of her face like she’s swatting at an invisible bug, “I mean yeah, but it’s like they can’t even see you.”

“What they just ignore the two people just having full on sex in the middle of a club?”

“Yeah, I mean unless you want to be seen,” she explains, her face screwing up in confusion when you don’t seem to understand what she’s saying, “Listen, I can’t explain it the way they do. There’s just something that these people can do that just takes away every worry you have. You’re just there and in the moment. It’s so great you’ll just have to go or you’ll never understand.”

You humor her and let her write the address down in your phone, smiling fondly when she keeps your phone a little longer to add vulgar emojis along side the information.

And for a while that was it. The address remained in your phone, forgotten as it got buried underneath grocery lists and reminders that made little to no sense out of context. All it took for you to finally pay the club a visit was one night.

You found yourself bored out of your mind and far too horny for your own good. You were too frustrated and pissed off at the world to give yourself the satisfaction of masturbating, so instead you just sat on your phone, cleaning out your photos and notepad when you stumbled on the address paired with its mess of emojis.

Without any further thought you were up, getting ready, and calling an uber to take you to the address provided by the bubbly drunk girl. You tried to ignore the wary and judgmental glare from the driver as you pulled up on an old warehouse that was decorated with blaring red neon lights that only read “Club X: Enter at Your Own Risk.”

To say that night was a fluke was an understatement. People approached you of course, but there was no magical hypnosis that you were promised, not that you were really expecting it to actually happen. There were cute people, but no one that cut at your core enough to dull your irritation at the world. Instead you sipped at a drink someone else had graciously paid for, ogled at the pretty man working the DJ booth surrounded by his friends, and then caught another uber home with the personal promise that that would be your first, and last visit to Club X.

Well you told yourself that at least.

It was only about a week later that you found yourself pulling out an outfit and opening your uber app. You chalked it up to needing a good drink, but there was a confused nagging in the back of your mind that told you that you had no good reason for actually returning.

With a different uber driver, but a similar glare, you found yourself back at the dingy club. You sat in the same seat as before, had a new pretty face order you the same drink, as you found your glance being pulled back to the same cute DJ.

You felt some shame finding him so cute. He seemed out of place in the club. Most people here were dressed in party clothes, while he wore neutral toned hoodies, and this time a hat turned backwards. His headphone only left his ears a handful of times so he could laugh and jeer with the men that surrounded him almost like permanent ornaments. Truthfully he was handsome as hell, but other than that what was there to stare at?

You left that night with that thought pulling at your mind, and you returned multiple times after with the same thought nagging you every time.

You were becoming a regular at the club, as embarrassing as it was. Even though you had yet to experience any wild sexual magic like you had been drunkenly promised, it was like the first night your drink was spiked with a magnet that pulled you towards the building almost every weekend at this point. You hadn’t told the girl that had given you the address, and you definitely didn’t tell any of your friends. You just didn’t want them to believe that you were developing an unhealthy dependency on alcohol, even though you would never even finish one glass. And maybe if you were getting shit faced, you would understand why you kept returning, but every time you’d leave so sober that you could convince someone you hadn’t drank at all.

The first few times, you scrambled for an explanation for why you couldn’t stay away, but you always feel short. It was as if your own body was keeping a secret from your mind. It was beginning to be muscle memory they way you’d get dressed and call for an uber every time.

And you’d think with how much time you’d spent at the crowded club, watching random strangers create masses of sexual energy, you’d had seen everything, but you stiffen in confusion when you see it.

A pretty girl hopped up to the dj booth, her wild hair bouncing along with her, as the girl she was making out with only moments before giggled and squirmed in her seat. The look the DJ wears is disinterested, but aware when she leans her hands down on his table to start spilling hiccuped words in his face.

You can only see her mouth moving at a rapid pace, the music and the distance between you making her words impossible to hear. Whatever she asked prompts a gentle nod from the man, and as she prances away he moves his fingers across the knobs and switches until a new song starts to spill out of the speakers tucked into various corners of the room.

Did she request a song change? The questions runs through your mind as your eyes trace her form, your eyes only darting away when she tackles the other girl and shoves her tongue into the space of her mouth.

You had never seen someone request a song from the man, the closest thing maybe being a jab to the back from one of his friends that was a consistent character as he casually suggested something. Realistically, requesting a certain song isn’t incredibly weird, but something about the knowledge that the tall broad man standing on the platform that placed him so highly above the other bodies in the room is actually approachable was frying the nerves in your brain.

A few songs come and go by the time you’re standing up, your legs feeling as if they’re moving on their own. You’re not sure at what point between learning that you were allowed to walk up to him and you actually starting to walk towards him that you decided that you needed to get close, but the time you’re regaining your consciousness, you’re climbing the small set of stairs leading up the stage.

He seems to notice your presence before you reach him, as while you're still a bit away, his head lifts to lock his eyes onto yours. The way he smiles at you makes you stop momentarily and hesitate, one corner of his lips rises higher than the other gives his face a less than good intentioned aura. Instead of making you falter and turn back to return to the drink you had abandoned at the bar, you feel your stomach warm and turn as you pick up your steps.

Your hips bump into the edge of the table as you lean your palms flat on the top, your nails gently digging into the material as you try to form a sentence in your head. Your tongue rolls against your teeth and your lips part before he’s looking down again, but interrupting you with his own words.

“It’s about time you came up here,” he adds a dry laugh when he hears the confused noise that jumps from your chest. He ignores the quiet ‘hm?’ you offer in response before he continues, “I mean I would have made a move first but I can’t really leave my station y’know?”

He shrugs as he returns his eyes to you, clearly entertained by your confusion. Your eyes dart around his face, momentarily moving to glance at the boys that are scattered behind him either holding their own conversations or watching you two in amusement. When you look at him, he looks expectant.

One of the boys jeers at him saying, ‘fuck off John, you know they don’t know what you’re talking about.’ And even though the comment only adds to your confusion, you can’t stop the way your body warms at the spike of embarrassment it puts in you, the man in front of you only responding to the remark by digging his tongue into the inside of his cheek in irritation.

“You came here looking for trouble didn’t you?” it takes you a beat to realize he’s asking you, another moment to realize the question is meant to be suggestive, and one last one to form a response.

“I think I might be,” you feel yourself dumbly nod, as your chest gets fuzzy. Maybe this is when you finally get to experience what that girl had promised so many weeks ago. Could the dj have been your person this whole time?

“Ah ah,” he shakes his head almost disappointedly, “I need a solid yes before I can give you what you need baby. You should know that much at least.”

“I- I mean, okay,” consent you understood, but the way he says it makes your brain swim in confusion. Why wouldn’t you say yes?

“Yes. I’m looking for trouble,” you say, your own confidence finally finding its way into your words, “I’m looking to cause trouble with you.”

The smile he wears is evil, and absolutely giddy with your return of energy. He takes a few steps back from the table and gestures to his side saying, “then please, enter my office.”

You feel a jolt of energy hit you, before you’re rounding the corner of the table. You only have a second to register the sharp pain of where your hip bumped into the corner, before he’s wrapping his large hand around the back of your neck and pulling you to press his mouth against yours.

His warm breath could have been considered an aphrodisiac in the way it fills your mouth and warms your core. His other hand wraps around your waist as he backs you into the table, his hands and lips so suddenly on you is overwhelming, but not enough to distract you from the way his friends begin to start oohing at the spectacle you two put on.

What had that girl said? No one can see you unless you want them to? With the handful of boys surrounding you, you can’t help but to doubt that you can just make yourself vanish from their prying eyes, but even if you could, would you want to? You feel warm in shame, as while his tongue dips behind your teeth and explore the space of your mouth, you start to feel excited at the idea of all his friends watching you get the relief you had been craving for so long.

The moment your subconscious decided you want the boys to see you in such a vulnerable state, one of them lets out a scandalized and excited yelp, before turning to another and exclaiming, “oh shit they want us to see them. Look at that.”

The boys attached to your mouth smiles as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, a warm laugh filling the air between you, “hmm so bad aren’t you? You like to be watched?”

You whine in response, as your hands move to claw at his soft t-shirt. Your hips jump and knock into his when his fingers start to grope and squeeze at your flesh. You’re acutely aware at the way he presses his leg between yours and uses his hand to make you start grinding on his thigh.

“How ‘bout you give them a real show and bend over nice a pretty for us,” it’s not a question, but a demand as he lifts you slightly away from the table, and turns you to push your torso down flat. You try to take deep breaths, as his hands run up and down your sides until the tips of his fingers pinch the hem of your skirt.

“There we go,” he sounds overtly proud, when he flips the fabric up to lay against your back, his friends responding to the newly exposed flesh of your ass with appreciative whistles.

He steps to the side of you, his hands slipping between your hips and the table to lift them up. He uses his grip to move you side to side, shamelessly encouraging you to tauntingly move your hips for the many sets of eyes. If it wasn’t for the way your walls softly clench around nothing, you would be ashamed of the way being watched like this makes you drip.

He begins to drag the thin fabric of your underwear down, to tease not only you, but your engaged viewers. Once the fabric hits the floor, there’s a chorus of hisses and groans at the sight of you wet and excited.

You whimper at the feeling of so many eyes tracing your body, even louder when the man grabs onto the flesh of your ass to spread you for them all to see. You don’t know what comes over you when you petulantly kick the floor and let out a demanding ‘please.’

The only response you get in return is his hand running against you to check the severity of your arousal and the jeers from the boys of how, ‘Johnny got a bratty one.’

If it weren’t for the blaring music, you’d hear the metallic sound of his zipper being pulled down, the only thing you get as a warning that he had pulled himself from the restraints of his underwear, is when the leaking tip of his cock begins to dip into you.

You feel the tense strain on your muscles melt away as he presses into you. The size of him stretching you out makes you feel delirious as you’re thankful for the amount he’s managed to make you wet in such a short amount of time, as if he hadn’t you’re not sure he’d be able to fit so easily.

When his hips finally press tightly against you, he lets out a rumbled groan. His hands hold tightly to your hips as he pauses to give you both time to adjust, and you can only somewhat hear the shuffling of the others as they move in an attempt to get a better angle to watch.

His thrusts are lazy and deep as he moves against you, one hand leaves your skin and the fabric of his shirt moves away telling you he’s lifting it in his own attempt to get a better look at where he fucks into you.

Your legs part farther as you begin to desperately shake, the way he digs into every nerve inside you makes you keen, but you want nothing more than to have him move harder.

“Please John,” you beg, trying to see how his name would taste in your mouth, your own hand moving back to wrap tightly around his wrist.

“Shut the fuck up,” you barely register the pain that burns through your skin from where his open palm meets the sensitive skin of you ass. His tone was harsh, but the satisfied chuckle that not only leaves him, but also his friends, makes a dopey grin fill your face as a moan rolls off your tongue.

“Fuck look at how bad they want it,” the voice from your side tells you it’s someone else, the tone excited and bubbly as if they’re watching something a lot more innocent than a stranger get fucked in the middle of a club.

“So bad huh?” Johnny sounds almost proud at the way you and everyone reacts to the pleasure he’s giving you, “such a good little whore, taking everything I’ll give.”

Pleads and begs roll off your tongue as his harsh words fry your brain. His hips only quicken slightly before he’s grabbing your side to pull you up against him. It feels like a flash of time, when he grabs the hem of your shirt, and pulls it over your head. Once you're bare to the stuffy air of the club and your shirt is thrown carelessly over his shoulder, you're just as quickly shoved back onto the table and he’s pistoning fast and harshly into you.

His hand harshly meets you burning skin again and you squeak in response. His voice is rough as he puts all his strength into fucking you deep and he commands to no one in particular, “someone get it for me.”

His words mean nothing as the way he pulls against you starts pushing to the edge of your orgasm. You can only gasp and claw at the table when one of his friends leans closer and taps at your spine right between your shoulder blades and whatever he holds against you begins to cut into your skin.

Once his friend is moved away, he suddenly pulls out making you clench harshly and whine. You feel the trickle of blood that travels down your skin, but the sting of his warm tongue collecting the dripping red and digging into the new wound on your back. The sting is almost unbearable and makes you squirm against him, but the pain is muffled when he reaches down and begins to roll tight circles onto your neglected clit.

His fingers are unrelenting as he rushes you to your finish. The pleasure between your thighs mixing with the sharp pain against your back makes your vision begin to go fuzzy. You can only somewhat register the boyish laughs of excitement that surround you as you finally start to come.

It feels like there’s a monster inside you that claws at you nerves. Every inch of your body set on fire is so distracting, you can only yell into the air when he moves to push back into you. He thrusts only a few times before he stills against you, the warmth of him filling you making your overstimulated nerves scream.

You can only lie there as he starts to fix your clothes, harsh demands of ‘the show is over, go away’ begin thrown over his shoulder as he drags you away and back to the bar.

You sleepily lean against him as he nods at the stoic man handing out drinks. He brings you a glass of water, that Johnny presses against your chapped lips.

“You can come relax behind the booth while I work once you finish the glass,” he reassures as he pets at your damp skin, “the boys are a lot nicer than what you just witnessed I swear.”

You’re too dopey to truly register what he says as you only nod in response before babbling, “so you’re my person?”

The laugh he lets out is soft, a lot sweeter and warming that any he’d offered before, “yeah I’m your person, and you’re wild ass is mine.”

#nct smut #johnny smut #nct #johnny #nct imagines #johnny imagines #nct oneshot #johnny oneshot #johnny suh #club x

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i-like-writing-stuff · 4 years ago

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four months; part 2 [five hargreeves x reader]

a/n: thank you all so so much for your support and feedback! i literally could not believe that the first part has over 200 notes and yall want a continuation like omagash??? im soft, thank you guys <3

here is the long awaited part two, but before we dive into that, i felt the need to ask yall if you want five to be aged up?? in most x reader i’ve read on this site, five is aged up, but I felt like, in my case, i didn’t really needed to mention that because i am only like two months older than the actor, and its not like im gonna write smut with him- gross. point is, idk. should i age him up tho??? idk what to do, so here are both aidan and timothee to soothe ur heart for this second part!! <3

(the gifs do not belong to me, lemme know if u know who made them so i can give credits- they’re real cute mah gawsh!!!)

alsoo if you want more five imagines or literally any other hargreeves sibling or fictional character ousside tua, feel free to leave a request in my inbox! kisses <3

summary: after a long family meeting and more booze, you decide to make a bold move and profess your buried feelings.

part 1

“Men are stupid shitheads.” You concluded, setting your flask on the counter, looking at the new bangs Allison had just cut for you.

Even in her drunken state, they seemed to be very nicely done. You were quite surprised by the way they turned out, but pleased nonetheless. It was a spontaneous decision, getting bangs. You had been sitting in the hair salon she was working at with her, Klaus and Vanya after a not so great family meeting.

Hugs were shared, true, but then arguments started and before you even knew it, Luther stormed out, Diego followed him, Five went missing for whatever business he had, and Klaus claimed that Ben was not even there- apparently, ghosts can’t time travel.

So, it was just the four of you, drunk in a hair salon, with too much alcohol and way too many scissors around you, complaining about how shitty your love lives could be.

“Amen.” Klaus raised his drink in the air, “I’ll drink to that.”

“Right?” Allison nodded, combing her second client, Klaus, “The nerve of Ray! I mean, one thing goes wrong and he’s on a warpath!” She vented, holding the bottle of liquor in her free hand, “I mean, doesn’t know who I am?! No, no! No, Ray- you know exactly who I am, you just can’t handle it!”

You watched with a raised brow as Vanya was out of zone, pretending to be shooting the long line of empty bottles gathered in front of her, as Allison kept on continuing her rant. Her husband had just seen her use her powers on the night they started the protest, and was now having a real hard time comprehending what was going on. You didn’t see him at home either, so you figured he may have been upset with you as well for maybe hiding the secret. Or maybe he thought you were like her, who knows?

“Hey, wouldn’t it be weird if Five grew up all hot?” Klaus suddenly asked, taking a drag out of his cigarette, as he got up from his seat to walk around the hair salon, “Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Why would you even think of your brother like that?” You asked riddled, narrowing your eyes at the man as his sisters almost gagged at the thought.

“Oh, please, you’ve been thinking that, haven’t you?” Klaus asked, pointing at you as you took another swig from your nearly empty flask.

“I... I mean- he’s... Five... uh... no comment!” You suddenly declared, at loss of words, as you got up from your seat, trying to maintain your balance as you made your way towards the bottle of liquor to fill your flask again.

“When are you two gonna confess your feelings?” Allison asked with a groan, letting her head fall backwards as she sat on the chair, “It’s getting really tiring!”

“We have an apocalypse going on!” You argued, “There’s no time for feelings!”

“This is the perfect time for feelings!” Klaus chimed in, taking another drag out of his cigarette, “These might be your last six days on Earth! Do you want to die regretting that you never told Five how you felt about him?”

“I’m not having this conversation anymore.” You declared, out of arguments, as you poured liquor in your flask, “Why don’t we talk about Allison’s crush on Luther instead?”

“We have never even kissed!” Allison defended herself, causing Vanya to spin on her chair confused, looking between the three of you.

“Yeah, but you guys were making little sick moon-dog eyes at each other all through puberty and breakfasts and... all that.” Klaus waved her off, sipping from his own flask.

“Aren’t we all brothers and sisters, or...?” Vanya wondered confused, as you and Klaus snorted amused at her innocence.

“Well... technically...” Allison tried to find an excuse or explanation, but she was having a hard time putting her thoughts in place.

“Technically?” Klaus raised a brow, “If you....” He stammered, trying to regain his train of thought, “If you have to use the word technically, you’re already in trouble.”

“Okay, can we go back to Five and Y/N?” Allison tried to change the subject, “Or maybe at least help me save my marriage?”

“That’s like...” Klaus stumbled on his own feet, filling his flask again, as you leaned against Vanya’s chair curiously, “That’s like asking a nun how to hump someone’s leg! I mean, who in this room knows shit about relationships? This one?” He asked, pointing at Vanya, “In secret love with some farm Frau!”

“Her name’s Sissy.” Vanya informed him.

“Which is an improvement on her previous love interest.” He said, looking at you and Allison, as you shook your heads to slightly tell him to shut up, “...the serial killer.”

“What?!” Vanya yelled, looking between you and Allison for an explanation, but you just softly waved her off, promising to remind her later.

“And look at this one!” Klaus ignored the three of you, pointing at... well, you, “A fifty year old assassin, who got the chance to be a teen again, but she is too afraid to admit her feelings for the... wait, is Five a boy or a man?”

“Both?” You raised a brow, unsure of the answer.

“Meanwhile, I’m carrying a torch for a soldier I haven’t technically met yet, and Luther is in love with his sister.” Klaus waved you off, trying to keep his balance again on his feet.

“Okay, again- we are not biological!” Allison tried to defend herself once more, but Klaus simply ignored her.

“Face it, the healthiest long-term relationship in this family was when Five was banging that mannequin.” He said, making all of you nod in agreement, as you couldn’t help but confess, taking another chug out of your flask;

“I can’t believe I got to the point where I was jealous of Dolores.”

Okay, maybe ‘banging’ and ‘jealous’ were strong words, but you had to admit you were not that pleased when one of the first things that Five did when he got back to 2019, was go to some store to get back his plastic girlfriend who kept him company in the four decades he spent all by himself in the apocalypse.

You understood his mind, though. You would have gone insane as well if you had to be all alone after the end of the world, without another soul on the planet. Nonetheless, you still were maybe a tad too happy when he decided to return her to the store.

Leaving you the only woman he had eyes for, unbeknownst to you.

“I’m gonna tell Sissy that I love her.” Vanya suddenly declared, straightening her position confidently.

“You go, girl!” You cheered, clapping for your friend.

“I don’t want any secrets.” She said, making you and the other two nod in agreement, contemplating about your own lives.

“Yeah!” Allison said, getting up with the bottle of alcohol tightly clutched in her hand, “Yeah, yeah- you’re right! Yes, ‘cause, you know- if this all goes tits-up, the least I can do is be honest with my husband!

“Oh, does that mean I have to face my cult?” Klaus sighed, “I just hate group break-ups, it’s why I stopped dating twins!”

You pondered about it for a moment, in your state that was definitely not the most sober. You had a lot of alcohol coursing through your veins, but you felt like maybe it was better. You could think with your heart more than you could think with your brain, and your heart was telling you that your friends were right.

They all are getting themselves ready to take big risks in their lives, why shouldn’t you? They had a valid point; the world was gonna end in six days if you guys couldn’t find a way to solve this. Last time you didn’t have the brightest plan, so why should this time be a success? Reality hit you; there was a real big chance that you might die.

So why not just be honest with Five? What was the worst that could happen? You manage to save the world and Five rejects you? Big deal!

Well, it actually was a big deal.

“What if he rejects me?” You asked all of a sudden, causing the three siblings to turn to you, “What if I tell Five how I feel about him and he rejects me? I know maybe at my age I shouldn’t be this anxious about a man, but... it’s not like I’m going anywhere, I’m glued to the Hargreeves clan.”

And it was true. After the events of the 2019 apocalypse, right before you and the others got separated, you shared an adorable moment in which you confessed to each other how happy you were to have met and be taken into their family as one of their own.

“Normally, I’d say to not ponder on that for too... long.” Klaus slurred, “But given that it’s Five, you don’t even have to worry about that.”

“He’s right.” Allison shrugged, “That won’t be a problem.

“I have no memory of any of you, but from the hug I’ve seen you two share earlier- you’re not just friends.” Vanya spoke up, making you stare into nothingness for a moment.

I mean, it’s Five we are talking about. If he were to have any feelings, it’s not like he’d be honest with them or act, right? It would be up to you to make the first move.

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your hands on your upper arms, reminding yourself of the hug. It may have been the first time you and Five actually hugged, in all the years you’ve known each other. The way he held you close and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent, feeling you in his arms, even if for him it had been only four days. You had to live with the thought that he may be dead for months.

And you hated that, you knew you wanted him alongside you. You wanted that little rude, at times obnoxious dipshit, with a soft heart- as much as he hated to admit it. You loved how much he cared about his family, about saving the world. Five is a great person; he is caring and has a big heart, as much as he tried to hide it behind his trashmouth.

“Fine!” You groaned, letting your head fall backwards, “I’ll tell Five I fucking love him and his dipshit face!”

“Yes!” Klaus clapped, as Allison and Vanya cheered proudly, “Come here!”

You and Vanya walked towards him, as Allison wrapped an arm around his waist, waiting for the two of you to skip towards them, pulling you into a group hug, as “Twistin’ the night away” by Sam Cooke blasted on the radio, causing the four of you to start a small dance party, letting for the first time in a long while your problems just go away.

For the sake of the song.

After a couple more hours of drinking, gossiping and dancing, the four of you decided to finally part ways and attend your promised business. Klaus went to deal with his cult, as Allison decided to be completely honest with her husband at home and Vanya was going to confess to Sissy.

As for you?

You were going to tell Five Hargreeves you were in love with him.

“Hey, dipshit!” You confidently yelled, running up the stairs of the store, trying to find Five.

“Y/N?” Five frowned, walking out of the kitchen with a coffee mug in his hands and a confused look on his face, “Are you... even more drunk? And did you get bangs- what the...?”

“Shut up.” You waved him off, walking towards him to grab the mug out of his hand to sober yourself up, “Why in the hell are you even drinking coffee at this hour?”

“I’m... trying to calm myself...” He frowned, watching as you chugged his freshly poured coffee.

“Normally I’d ask.” You said, setting the mug on the counter, shaking your head, “But right now what I have to say is more important.”

“Is that so?” Five raised a brow curiously, as you slowly slapped your cheeks, trying to get the room to stop moving, “Why don’t you go to bed?” He asked, gently pushing you towards the couch, “And we talk in the morning? I don’t really have time for this.”

“No!” You yelled, stopping in your tracks to poke his chest, “We don’t have to talk! I talk and you- you listen!” You said, poking his chest again, “You never have time for anything, all you can think of is your stupid apocalypse!”

“Oh yes, isn’t that a trivial thing to be thinking of?” He asked with a sarcastic smile, crossing his arms.

“I don’t need your sarcasm!” You yelled, poking his chest a third time, feeling him get more tense.

“I swear to God, Y/N, if you do that one more time-...” Five took in a deep breath, as he could feel as he was slowly losing his patience.

“Shut up!” You groaned, watching as his brows knitted in confusion, “I’m trying to confess my feelings for you, you moron!”

“W...What?” He asked, as his face suddenly softened, unfolding his arms.

“I’m in love with you!” You sighed, rubbing your face, “Okay? I-I am in love with you and I am trying to sober myself up, but I think I may have had too much to drink.”

“You think?” Five scoffed, slowly leading you towards the couch, “Are you sure you’re not saying this just because you have a ton of alcohol coursing through you?”

“Well... kinda, ‘cause if I were sober there was no way in hell I would have confessed.” You puffed, complying, as you let yourself guided by him, “Allison, Klaus and Vanya all convinced me that I should tell you, that we only have six days left on Earth and in case we don’t save it... I shouldn’t be going down with regrets.”

Five listened to your every word carefully, as you continuing venting about how his siblings spent the whole day trying to convince you to tell him about your feelings, as he slowly held your hands, as you took a seat on the couch. He nodded at your words to let you know that he was listening, as he took two pillows off the armchairs beside, placing them at one end, softly pushing you down.

“...and then Klaus said that he hates group breakups.” You said, not even noticing what was going on, feeling your lids get heavier once your head met the pillow.

“Not a surprise there...” Five muttered, grabbing the blanket that was rested on top of the couch, placing it over you.

“Are you trying to dismiss me?” You wondered, but still making yourself more comfortable, as you sat on your side, with your head facing Five, who knelt in front of you tired.

He bit back a smile, watching as you slowly closed your eyes. He knew you were extremely drunk, he could see that in the way exhaust took over you. Not only you had a lot of alcohol in your system, but you’ve also had some long couple of days, and some longer ones were ahead of you until you knew for a fact the world was safe once more.

“I don’t know how it is, that you’re the one person who actually makes me feel... soft.” He confessed, watching your lips curve into a smile at his words, “You... drunken idiot.”

“I regret nothing.” You said proudly, as Five couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, softly stroking your hair to help you fall asleep sooner.

“We’ll see about that in the morning.” He smirked amused, watching as you pouted.

“You never gave me an answer, you know.” You pointed out, letting his soft touch calm you down, as you felt sleep slowly take over you.

“You never gave me a question.” He retorted, knowing for sure that if your eyes were opened, you would roll them at him.

“I think you like to hear me say that I am in love with you, it’s the third time I have to say it.” You said, slowly placing your hands under your pillow, making yourself more comfortable.

“I am happy to see that you still know how to count.” Five said, placing some wild strands of hair behind your ear.

“Screw you.” You said, making him grin, as he went back to stroking your hair.

“In this whole... shitty situation I managed to get myself into, you, Y/N, might as well be the only thing keeping me sane... surprisingly.” Five frowned at the last bit, watching as you opened your eyes, shifting your head to watch him, “I love you too, moron.”

“I never said I love you.” You smirked, teasing him as he rolled his eyes.

“You little chipmunk...” Five sighed, shaking his head in disbelief amused, as you leaned into his touch more, closing your eyes, pleased with yourself.

“Yeah, but you still love me.” You said, not once dropping that smirk on your lips.

“You’re impossible, did you know that?” He wondered, resting his forearm on the couch beside you, as he knelt on the floor, trying to make himself more comfortable, noticing the way you were enjoying the scalp massage... for free.

“A little bit.” You slowly shrugged, wrapping your arms around his, once you felt it beside you.

Five watched with a soft smile as you pulled his arms closer to your face, nuzzling into it with a satisfied smile, happy that you listened to your friends.

And deep down, so was Five thanking his siblings.

#tua #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy imagines #number five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves imagines

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willexxmercer · 4 years ago

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Willie’s Backstory

We don’t know much about Willie’s life, but here’s my take on it for Willie Appreciation Week - Day 2. It’s not so much a fic as it is a series of headcanons written in prose, which is why i’ve opted to post it here on tumblr instead of ao3. You’ll find it under the cut below!

Warnings: mentions of Willie’s canonical death, implied car crash, implications of Willie having (undiagnosed) ADHD

Taglist: @screamin-amuseum @thedepthsofhell @iridescentkippen @owenmercers @oldsmobile-hotdogs @phanhowell @williexmercer @lyxchen @chickwiththepurpleguitar @sk8rwillie @mynameisntluke @julieandthequeers @fairylightsandrainydays @burntchromas @itsthebooks @fireflyingaway @sunsetcurbed @thegirlfulloffandoms @bluedarkness @themongosianhorse @angelofarts @kikikiwi27498 @imratking @21st-century-sweetheart @bowtiesareavenged

A Life Before

Life at the Hollywood Ghost Club wasn’t so bad. Willie had a place to live and people to talk to. More than that, though, Willie felt a sense of belonging.

Growing up, Willie didn’t have it bad, necessarily. His father wasn’t in the picture, but his mother more than made up for it. He was her little duckling growing up; they did everything together and Willie never felt like he was necessarily lacking anything. In the best way Adele Ortega knew how, she loved her son. It was hard to find work, though, especially as a single mother, and they weren’t able to keep a steady home. Willie grew up living out of a suitcase, moving between motels and short term rental apartments in the dingiest parts of town, never having a place to call his own.

One of the bonuses of moving around so much was that Willie learned very quickly how to make friends. He had a natural talent for convincing even the surliest of truckers at the motel to talk to him and show him the inside of their cab. The employees all loved him, and he loved them back.

See, his mother raised him to be open and welcoming and kind. No matter what, he would use his manners and be respectful, and that was what he did. At school, Willie was friends with everyone, including the teachers, even if he didn’t get the highest grades.

After all, it’s hard to do homework while a drunk couple screams at each other in the next room.

When he was eight, his mother introduced him to painting one night. They were in a new motel, and Willie couldn’t sit still no matter how hard he tried. After he came in from running around the building, she had a canvas and some paint set up. When he questioned it, she merely smiled and sat back on the bed, telling him he could paint whatever he wanted.

His first painting was a collage of colours that covered the entire canvas. They hung it in every room they stayed in after that.

Art quickly became something Willie loved. He would spend hours with a piece of paper and markers, or canvas and paint. His mother would spend her spare change getting him new art supplies. It kept him calm; it gave him something to do when all he wanted to do was bounce around the room. It became his happy place.

It was a teenager who introduced him to skateboarding when Willie was thirteen, rolling along the sidewalk outside the motel. Jake was fifteen, with shaggy hair. He wore a muscle shirt, and a ripped denim jacket, and he was cool. Willie spent every evening outside with Jake the entire week he stayed at the motel, learning how to skate. More than skateboarding, though, Willie learned something possibly even more important about himself.

He had always considered the girls in his school to be nice, but he never liked to talk about them the way the other boys in his school did. In fact, he usually joined the girls in gossiping about other boys. It wasn’t until he was standing on the pavement, though, watching Jake explain how to do an ollie with his hair moving a bit in the wind and his muscles showing, that Willie realized he wasn’t even listening to the older boy’s explanation.

Nothing came of his crush on Jake, of course. When the older boy’s family left, Willie stared longingly at the RV as it pulled out of the parking lot. His mother asked him why he was so upset, since seeing people come and go was so commonplace, but Willie didn’t have an answer.

Thinking she understood, his mother got him a skateboard for Christmas that year. Willie gladly accepted it as a memory of his first crush.

By the time Willie reached high school, Adele finally got a permanent job at an office in Winnipeg. They moved into a quaint little mobile home on the outskirts of the city, and Willie was looking forward to being able to live a more normal life. As a teenager, he was excited to do the things Jake had talked about. Teenager things. Staying out late, going to the drive in with his friends, that sort of thing.

It was as if a switch was flipped. The rules changed. Now that Willie was a teenager, Adele seemed terrified that something would happen to him, so she started putting restrictions on him. It started with a 10pm curfew, then he couldn’t go downtown unless he let her know exactly where he was at all times. It was as if she realized he was getting older and had more options open to him; it was probably even perpetuated by her coworkers at the office. Willie wasn’t a kid standing outside a motel talking to a trucker, anymore. Willie was fifteen.

It was suffocating. There was so much Willie wanted to do, and his mother wouldn’t let him do any of it.

Their relationship suffered as a result. Willie challenged his mother every chance he could, pushing the boundaries. He stayed out past his curfew, and at seventeen, he came home on Saturday with a tattoo. A small one, mind you, a skateboard on his wrist, but a tattoo nonetheless. It was art, Willie argued. It was just another way to express himself.

His mother disagreed.

His grades kept slipping at school not because he didn’t know the material, but because he couldn’t focus long enough to complete assignments or tests. That was another point of contention between him and his mother, who tried to take away his skateboard when he failed grade 11 Math for the second time in a row - their argument lasted over an hour, and Willie avoided his mother for a week afterwards. The only class he seemed to thrive in was Art, of course, but now Adele was looking for him to decide on a career path. Art wasn’t a career, not in her mind, even if it was one of the things Willie was really good at.

At the age of eighteen, Willie spent most of his time hanging out at the skate park with a group of older boys. He had learned very quickly that it was best not to mention that he was gay, given the political climate, and that it was better to play along when the boys started whistling at girls. He hated it, but it was the only way to protect himself.

And then it happened.

Willie was heading home from the park late at night, helmet loose on his head, the strap undone, when a car came out of nowhere.

The last thing he remembered was the screams from the driver as she realized she had hurt someone.

So yeah, the Hollywood Ghost Club, in all honesty, was one of the best things that could have happened to Willie, given the circumstances. Caleb found him about a year after his death and lured him in with the promise of a community. He visited his mother a few times, but it was always too hard. It was easier to spend his time with Caleb and the other ghosts, with whom, of course, he immediately become friends. He learned to dance with Tatiana, a cute blonde who quickly became one of his best friends. Diana, Tatiana’s other best friend, was a little less sure about him.

Honestly, though, that was fair. Willie took a while to warm up to Diana too. It wasn’t until he showed her the tattoo on his wrist and told her why he had gotten it that she opened up. While Tatiana and Willie could chat for ages about the silliest things, he talked to Diana about the serious topics in his (after)life.

He had mixed feelings about Caleb at first. He was the man who had found him, who had explained everything there was to know about being a ghost. At the same time, though, there was something about him that was unsettling. Willie pushed those thoughts aside, though. As the years went by, he grew to trust Caleb more than anyone else at the club. He was positive there was nothing that Caleb could do wrong.

A place to live, people who cared about him, and a sense of belonging. That was all Willie could have ever wanted.

#willie jatp #willie nolastname #willie ortega #willie wilbur williamson #jatp #julie and the phantoms #willie appreciation week #mine**ff

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