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widow-maximov · 3 years ago

Text

It’s You

Pairing: Wanda x Fem Reader

Warning: Language, some fluff and angst, sexual suggestion.

Summary: Y/n thinks she has met the one until she joins the Avengers..

Word Count: 6.8K

Part 1, Part 2

Before being an Avenger, you were practically nothing but some part time vigilante whilst working full time to earn enough that would last you a whole week, you saved a few people from robbers and muggings which made you feel a little bit better about yourself, I mean not that you ever doubted yourself but knowing that you could help others whilst never having that protection during your youth times was rewarding in a way.

That’s how you have met your girlfriend, you saved her from couple of guys trying to rob her when she was working, it was also the time you discovered you had powers, you are able to control peoples minds and rewind time just enough to avoid any injuries.

It feels like it happened yesterday, you went to buy yourself a coffee from a new café that just opened up recently when suddenly there was a gun shot and a lot of screams along with some shouting telling people to get on the ground, you did that and watched the whole event unfold before your eyes.

At first it was them waving their weapons to scare people around them and demand money but as soon as they got what they wanted, they planned to at least kill someone and that was the girl behind the counter, who was scared shitless, she tried not to show it but when he pointed his gun at her and had the most disturbing smirk across his face, how could she not be, he pulled the trigger and you jumped out reaching out to the girl when everything stopped and time went back that’s when you ended up in the same place couple minutes before the men arrive.

You looked around to see if you were dreaming but before you could practically be amazed at your new ability, you jumped into action, running to the front door as the girl behind the counter looked at you funny, trying to stop you but you didn’t listen. You held the door and told her to call the police, you saw those men standing outside looking at you as they pointed a gun at you, you knew they would shoot so you ducked but held the door like your life depended on it.

For your luck the girl called the police and just when you were about to let go of the door and have them shoot you right there and then, the police surrounded all of the men with guns in their hands and with a huge sigh you let go of the door and fell back onto the floor to rest.

They were arrested and after giving your statement to the police, of course you had to lie mostly about how you knew it was going to happen, you said you had a bad feeling and figured something would happen, they were just happy they didn’t have any runners to extend their time on a case that would end up being forgotten.

The girl approached you with a small smile across her face “Hey.. I just wanted to thank you for doing that.. You saved not only me but a lot of people inside too.”

You smiled at her “It’s really not a problem, I’m just glad no one was hurt”

You reached your hand towards her “I’m Y/n” she shook your hand and replied “Olivia”

And that’s how it all started, you came by the café more often just to see her and she was happy to see you either way, she knew your order by heart and always had it ready for you. She liked your company so you stayed until you finished your coffee and was on your way, you gathered the courage and finally asked her out which she eagerly agree to. The first date wasn’t fancy but it was perfect, it was short which wasn’t a big deal and following that you had a few more dates before starting dating, eventually couple years in things started to be more than good, that’s when you decided you wanted to move in with her.

It was all perfect, you felt like nothing could go wrong but that was until you was caught trying to do your part time vigilante work by Iron Man, he dragged you to the Avenger tower to Nick Fury and he offered you a place within the team as he saw potential within you. You was taken back but agreed to join, you rushed back home as you weren’t needed until the team was back since they went off on a mission, and waited for your girlfriend to get back from work, she was an assistant for some big company so she was mostly busy but she always loved listening to your day to take the stress off her mind.

Even though you wanted to tell her everything, she didn’t know you was the vigilante, she knew you helped people out with your powers but you knew her opinion on hero'svigilantes, she hated it but was grateful for them as she felt safer within the city. You knew her intentions were pure but you had a different opinion.

You waited anxiously for her on the couch, bouncing your leg up and down from the nerves, you know her reaction will be something you wont like but this is huge for you. You will finally be able to help without hiding behind the whole vigilante ‘Time Breaker’ nickname the public made for you.

As soon as she walked in, she noticed your anxiousness “What’s wrong” She looked worried but you jumped up with a smile.

“I have news” Joy was practically dripping from you.

“I’m going to be on the team with the Avengers” You exclaimed with so much joy in your tone that you thought this somehow will make her be happy for you.

She dropped her bags and her face wasn’t like yours but with shock “What?”

“Well I helped someone out and Tony Stark caught me and dragged me to the Avenger tower and then I was offered a place in the team and I just took it”

“What?” She repeated herself as if you wasn’t talking in a language she would understand.

You looked at her confused and she finally spoke up from her shock state “You didn’t even think about considering this? You just took it without even consulting with me?”

You wanted to look confuse at her but you knew this would be her reaction “Olivia, come on you know how huge this will be-”

She interrupted you “You should’ve spoke to me about it as well.. We are a couple after all”

She took her bag and walked off towards your room as she closed the door behind her, usually when you have arguments you try to just listen each other out but when she shut the door you knew she didn’t want to listen to you so you just took your keys and walked out to give her some time to think about it and you made your way towards the tower again to meet the whole team.

The whole team was actually very welcoming when they heard about you joining, they all said that they have been watching you do your vigilante work and they were all pretty impressed. They gave me a room which you said you wont need but apparently its for long missions where you would have to be here for.

Everyone was excited to have a new member on their team and they all tried to show off their skills and abilities except this one redhead. You spoke with everyone and they all were chatting amongst each other so you took the opportunity to walk up to the redhead that was not far from yous.

She was sat at the bar, just paying attention to her drink, not really expecting anyone to approach her “Hello” you spoke up which made her jump a little.

She faced you and looked at the group of people who were just having usual banter “Shouldn’t you be over there with them?”

You leaned on the bar as you observed her “Probably but they are too busy with each other to even notice I am here”

She had a small smile across her lips as she traced the edge of the glass with her finger “Why are you here?”

“Well you are the only one who didn’t show what you can do”

She laughed “If I did that, I’m pretty sure the whole room would be upside down”

Something about this girl made you want to stick around, she was interesting and closed off a little which you didn’t mind. She was insanely beautiful and she was around your age which made you feel a little bit at ease to know that you aren’t the only young person there.

The only reason you didn’t know her was because she was new as well, she recently joined as well and felt a little bit left out as everyone in here already knew each other well enough to feel comfortable around them.

An idea popped in your head as you smiled “Pick a person and I will show you something”

She narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out what you are trying to do “Okay? Steve Rogers”

You looked at him and called out “Steve!” His attention was now on you and you spoke up again “Do a chicken dance”

He looked confused and refused to do that, which you just shrugged your shoulders at and closed your eyes when you opened them they turned white and his too and suddenly he was dancing just like you wanted. The redhead had a smile across her face as she was amazed to what you could do, and so was everyone else in the room. You broke the trance and Steve stood there completely clueless as everyone around him laughed.

You looked at her “Okay now it’s your turn”

She just smirked as she blurted out couple seconds in “Bruce is disappointed as he wanted someone to join them with the same level of knowledge as him so he can have a partner”

You narrowed your eyes at her “How do I know you’re not making that up?”

She turned towards the group and spoke up “Bruce I can’t believe you are disappointed in our recent recruitment”

He looked so shocked “How did you- Get out of my head!” and you both just laughed.

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n” You reached your hand towards her so she could shake it.

“Wanda Maximoff” She shook your hand with a small smile.

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Couple hours later

You came back home, it was late and you expected Olivia to be fast asleep but your unresolved argument kept her up. You walked through the door and that’s when Olivia came out from the bedroom worried about you.

“Y/n?” She called out as you walked further into the house and saw her with something in hand.

“Olivia? What are you doing?” You eyed the weapon she had in hand and she sighed with relief.

She shook her head “I didn’t think you would come back today so I thought someone was breaking in”

You knew she still had some PTSD from that café incident so you didn’t think much of it “Of course I was going to come back home.. Why are you up?”

You placed your keys down in your usual spot and walked over to her after she placed the object down near her “I couldn’t sleep”

You reached for her hand and held it tight “It’s okay, I’m here, just let me go toilet and we can just lay in bed until you fall asleep”

Even if you were upset with how she reacted, you loved her and wanted her to feel safe.

She nodded and you did just that, you went toilet and then you both laid in bed after you changed into something more comfortable to sleep in, she was laying on your chest cuddled tightly into your body as if you was going to disappear.

She looked up at you, you could see in her eyes something was eating her inside out “What’s wrong?”

She sighed and sat up, you mimicked her actions and turned on the little night lamp you had so you could see better “I wanted to talk about the disagreement we had earlier”

You nodded and she continued “I know my reaction to what you told me was upsetting but you know how worried I am already when you put your life at risk helping people out a little, I just don’t want to lose you”

She cupped your face with both of her hands “I love you and I don’t want you to think I won’t support you but I’m just worried”

“I know and I’m sorry I didn’t ask for time and told you about it before taking the place. I was just so excited I just don’t want to hide” You played with your ring on your thumb to calm your nerves down.

“I know and now, you can finally be more than just the ‘Time Breaker’ vigilante”

You looked up at her from your hands and she had a small smirk across her face “You knew?”

She nodded “Of course, I knew you would never pass the chance to do anything that could save peoples lives and just so you know I am proud of you”

You hugged her as she giggled from the sudden attack, she hugged you back and you both fell back to your original position and fell asleep couple minutes after.

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3 months later

During this time, you and your girlfriend were on good terms but with missions getting in the way you never had time for each other, even if she said she was proud of you for doing what you always wanted, you knew she is still upset about it which caused some arguments and you would usually just spend your days in your room at the Avenger tower watching anything to take your mind off Olivia.

Today was one of those days, you wanted to spend your 4 year anniversary with her before you had to travel to the compound for the mission but she had other plans for that day with her friends so you ended up walking out whilst she was getting dressed and ended up here.

Did she bother to call you? No, were you waiting for her to? Yes, you wanted her to say she’s sorry and that she actually had something planned for you but she was actually at a party because you saw her friends posting stuff on their social media.

You held the phone in your hand, staring at it waiting for it to light up and display an apologetic message from her but there was no luck, even though you was watching something, it just didn’t take your mind of her.

“Are you just going to stare at your phone all day?” A voice appeared from the door way which made you look.

You saw Wanda standing with her arms crossed and she gave you a smile as she walked over to you when you didn’t say anything “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged, you placed the phone on the night stand and sat up, not saying anything which Wanda took as an invitation to sit down near you.

Over the course of 2 months, you two were close friends but were still learning a lot about each other. For example during the team movie night, they all wanted to watch horror movies but you hated them. Of course you were teased for that but Wanda made sure they would choose something else. She wasn’t the only one who stuck by your side.

Natasha Romanoff did as well, she was quick to become your favourite person here, she was hilarious and could easily beat anyone here except Hulk because.. Well that dude is just not her size, though you could argue if it did come down to it. She loved playing pranks on the team and you soon become her partner in crime when it came to that, with your ability to control people’s minds you helped her do a lot of things like make people spill things or add too much spices to their food and watch them choke.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it but I can’t let you look this depressing. Come join me in the kitchen, I’m cooking dinner this time”

You raised your eyebrows at her to tease her “You cook?”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes “Of course I do. Now come on” She grabbed your hand, you took your phone with you and you two walked hand in hand towards the kitchen.

You help the Sokovian out a lot actually, even if you didn’t really had time to cook before but you always knew how to. When you would finish your part, you would just lean and watch her with admiration at how concentrate she was but you would snap out of it, reminding yourself that you were in a relationship.

She brought the spoon up to your face so your attention isn’t turned towards your phone “Here, taste it” which you did and your face lit up at the different taste.

“Good? Am I missing something?” She asked a little worried but you shook your head still trying to process how good her food is.

“No! Its perfect, not only you’re dead ass gorgeous but also an amazing cook” You were too memorized by the food to even think twice what you were saying.

She blushed and before you had time to even correct yourself she quickly changed the subject “So will you tell me what’s wrong?” She looked up from what she was doing at you.

You sighed and looked down at your phone to see nothing and decided to open up “Today is mine and Olivia’s 4 year anniversary but she decided to spend it with her friends instead”

“At least you’re not alone today..” She said with a small smile on her face, trying to light up the mood.

You nodded and she questioned “So what are you going to do?”

You shrugged “I’m not sure but I know one thing”

She looked confused to why you stopped and suddenly, your eyes turned white when Tony barged in with his eyes white, she looked at both of you and within seconds Tony got ahold of flour as he dumped it over the Sokovian witch.

You broke the trance and looked at Wanda who was covered in white from head to toe and Tony who was lost at how he even got here as he held an empty bag of flour in his hand.

You laughed as she used her powers to throw some of the flour on you but you went back in time and avoided the attack which made her chase you around the kitchen “I teach you how to cook a good meal and that’s how you repay me Y/n. You wait”

You knew she was going to do something and you were right, she made you freeze in place and had an egg held in her hand, you knew what she was going to do, she walked towards you with a smirk across her face.

“You have no way out, you can’t rewind or control anyone. The only fate here is the egg to be cracked on your head” The red mist entangled with her fingers controlling your captivity.

Tony was going to just walk out without protesting but she held him as well which made him speak up “What did I do?” He basically whined but Wanda didn’t care.

“For all I know you could get someone to help Y/n, so you’re staying here” She stated which made Tony shake his head “Actually I don’t care-”

She used her powers to stick a cloth inside his mouth so he would shut up, you was laughing at the whole thing but suddenly the egg turned into 10 which were floating in the air and were ready to be thrown at you but she was waiting.

“Come on Wands.. You don’t want to do this..” You tried your luck but she shook her head “Oh but I really do” and with that all those eggs aimed at you, covering you with the egg goo, she walked up closer as she held the last egg

“That’s for the flour” and she just cracked the egg on your head making it slowly run down your head which made her laugh and she let you go.

That was a mistake

What she didn’t notice was that you were planning to give it back to her, and suddenly your body collide with hers, holding her tight making sure she has some of that egg too. That’s when her eyes widen at how close yous are, making yous both blush and you let go off her, that’s when the rest of the team walks into the kitchen that’s covered in flour and egg shells.

“What in the world happened here” Someone exclaimed from the team, whilst Natasha laughed.

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The next day

You ended up in Wanda’s room after the dinner, Nat did join yous for a while to watch some sitcoms but she wasn’t really into that, so she left later on when Wanda was drifting to sleep.

Somehow you ended up falling asleep along with Wanda, yous must’ve shifted in your sleep as now Wanda is cuddled into you with her head resting on your chest.

She has been awake for some time but she didn’t want to move, risking waking you up and parting away from her. She enjoyed your company a little too much, she always wanted to be around you, you made her days better, especially when she is having a rough day, she always knows she can count on you and that’s what caused her to fall for you.

When you joined the Avengers, that night you met them all, she was a little sceptic rather than welcoming, she sat away to avoid any interaction with anyone from the team, she was still a lot more closed off than she is now and when you approached her she knew she could trust you, it was a gut feeling.

Finding out you were in a relationship kind of bothered Wanda but she brushed it off, especially since there was nothing she could do about it. The more she got to know you the more she liked you, you were like a golden retriever; Happy, beautiful, smart but if someone pissed you off you was like Natasha which was why Natasha found herself hanging out more with you than the rest of the team.

Wanda looked up from where she was, staring at your relaxed featured, just taking in how calm you looked, her heart melting at the sight of you.

“Watching me sleep creepy lady?” You asked still with your eyes closed.

She tensed when you suddenly spoke up but relaxed within seconds when she rolled her eyes at you “No?” She had a blush across her cheeks for being caught.

You smiled as your hand reached to your face to rub your eyes and stretch out “Mhm sure”

Your raspy voice in the morning will be Wanda’s favourite thing from now on. The only girl you ever had in bed (besides your ex girlfriends), was Olivia and now that Wanda is here with you is.. different. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t like it but you did, her embrace was comforting.

Yous decided it was best to get up and cook breakfast before the whole team wakes up. Well Wanda cooked breakfast whilst you quietly stare at her, drinking your coffee at the same time.

Natasha was the first one up from the rest of the team and ate Wanda’s breakfast, she wanted to spar with you so you agreed, it was a good idea to just get fired up before the mission. She was good and you needed some hand to hand combat skills in case your powers refuse you.

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Couple hours later

Travelling to a Hydra base wasn’t something everyone was thrilled about, the whole team was needed for no reason, you and Wanda could just take the whole place down with your powers but this mission was tricky, yous didn’t need to just beat them up but you needed their data and blow their base up, S.H.E.I.L.D. intel wasn’t the best, they barely gathered anything apart that this base had some dangerous weapons that’s why you were needed.

As soon as the whole team along with you jumped out of the Quinjet, you expected agents to be flooding the field but there was nothing. You was instructed to go near the base just in case they flooded out since you could rewind time, so just like that you started to approach the base.

You walked inside and there was no one there, you expected it to be heavily guarded but no one was seen, so you went further inside as you reached to your ear to inform the team, that’s when the guards made their way out and spotted you.

You pressed your ear so the team can hear you whilst you talk down the guards, just in case your powers failed so the team would be informed to help you “Look fellas, I’m here.. you are here. Can we not be buddies?”

You tried but they launched at you and you simply went back in time, just enough before they spotted you. You reached to your ear and spoke quietly “This must be a set up, the guards know we are here they are waiting for us to approach the base, I can sneak inside and just do the work quickly. Just wait for my signal”

The team agreed that you should do it but Wanda protested “No Y/n! Come back and let’s do this together”

“Maximoff, Everything will be fine besides I can rewind if anything goes wrong. It’s okay.” You spoke and started to make your way towards the guards, you hid behind them and controlled one of their minds as you made them fight each other, knocking them out, you pulled their bodies to where you were so other were not alerted. You took their weapons and attached it near the bomb that you was suppose to plant.

You made your way to the core of the base and there was no one but you knew better, you closed your eyes and searched for any soul near you which you did find, you forced them to the centre and pushed them as their body was shot multiple times.

You reached to your ear to let know the team that you made it “Okay, I’m at the core of the base, I have the pen drive, I’ll plant the bomb as soon as the data starts to transfer.”

The team sighed in relief that you were still alive but they were pretty much surprised that the amount of guards. Wanda and Natasha knew something was wrong but they couldn’t go against orders, even if they were your orders they were approved by everyone.

You plugged the pen drive inside the slot and placed the bomb near the weapons, the timer will start as soon as you let Tony know to start it, you started at the huge screen as the percentage increased. You knew it was too good to be true to just leave without being detected.

A sharp sting in your shoulder and thigh occurred that muted the gunshots from behind you as you turned around to see the guard with a gun in his hand and little smoke coming from it, making you aware that you have been shot twice, you looked back you at the screen which was closer to finishing, as you controlled his mind and made him shoot his leg himself and knock himself out.

The focus for the mission was keeping you busy from the pain but as soon as you moved your leg, the pain was stronger which made you groan and limp towards the computer, as soon as it hit 100%, you snatched the drive and slowly made your way towards the exit where you saw about 5-10 guards standing with their guns pointing at you.

You laughed a little and took the weapon attached to your belt as you started to shoot at them, they were shooting at you but they missed as you went back in time but each time you did the less energy you had, it was mainly because you was losing blood and was hit couple more times, you didn’t even notice until you moved from your place to hide behind something.

You reached to your ear, taking a deep breath and speaking “Tony start the timer.”

“On it” He spoke to your ear and soon enough his voice spoke up again “Okay, you have 3 minutes before the whole place blows up, can you make it?” He asked the question he didn’t want to, which he earned a shocking glare from Wanda and Natasha, they weren’t expecting that.

“Yeah, I’m on my way out” As you spoke, gunshots slipped through which made the team be more worried.

“Y/n do you need back up?” Natasha asked and there was no reply, they were about to run inside from the Quinjet but Tony started to fly above. You and him had a plan which the team wasn’t inform off, this way you wouldn’t be stopped, they thought they will be joining you but you was suppose to go alone.

“Tony what the fuck are you doing?” Natasha harshly spoke as she stared at him from behind but he didn’t answer.

Wanda worried stood up “We need to help Y/n!” But she was ignored as well.

You knew you didn’t have time but you hoped this will work out, the reason to why the team wasn’t needed was because that could cause a lot of problems like compromising the mission but they were there in case things went south.

You took a deep breath and with everything you had, started to run towards the exit, with the pain becoming more stronger, which had some guards there but you manged to knock them out with your mind control, you failed to notice that one of them pretended to be knocked out so when you approached the exit, you was shot again, this time nearer to your heart which punctured your lung, you knew this is bad but you went on.. At least tried to, right as you reached the end, you were close to dropping to the ground but that’s when the bomb went off, sending you flying into the air, several feet away from the base and where the Quinjet was.

You was barely breathing and barely conscious to what was happening around you, but one redhead made it towards you. You smiled at whoever was there and started to close your eyelids since they become so heavy.

“Oh my god, Y/n” A shaky voice spoke up, you could tell it was Wanda.

You tried to wave your hand to dismiss it but the pain was too much so you spoke up “It’s fine..”

She covered your mouth with her hand “Shut up and save your energy! You can’t die now”

You was trying hard to stay awake but it wasn’t working and the darkness was much closer than you really wanted, you passed out the second the Sokovian redhead lifted you with her powers.

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Long couple hours later

The medical wing wasn’t keen on giving anyone any information about your condition which only worried everyone. Wanda barely left the waiting room in hopes that they will crack and tell her about you but nothing.

She wanted to barge in there and demand answers but she knew better than to delay your way to recovery. Wanda was more than worried, she was terrified, at the thought of your body going limb when she picked you up really scared her.

At the loss of her parents and her brother, she thought she would never open up to anyone but when you waltzed into her life, you instantly melted her walls with just one look, you made it easier to breath when she was around you, that’s why she can’t lose you.

Tony along with Natasha and Steve made their way towards Wanda, they knew she was upset.

she looked up, her blood boiling at the sight of Tony, she stood up with her eyes turning red “What do you think you’re doing here?” the question was laced with venom.

“Are there any news?” Natasha asked knowing that anything could trigger Wanda.

She shook her head but her glare didn’t leave Tony which angered her more, she wanted him out of this hallway, she wanted to see you smile and laugh.. Just be alive but you are in there with no updates.

“Look Witch, me and her had a plan before we went on the mission, she was suppose get out there before the bomb went off but obviously the plan didn’t work out exactly like we wanted, she was suppose to be on the Quinjet before it exploded, she knew it was a set up but she went anyways, we needed that data and now we are able to create better weapons because of it.” He tried to explain the best he could to Wanda, he felt guilty he didn’t let someone else come with you but they both knew it would be dangerous.

“Why didn’t you just let me or Natasha come with her!” She screamed, it made some lights flicker as her powers slowly emitted from her.

Tony took a deep breath “She didn’t want anyone, I tried to convince her to take someone but she said that would rather die than let anyone else suffer”

With his words, Wanda’s eyes turned back to normal as it filled with tears, she was so mad at you for doing such a reckless thing without even talking to her about it. Natasha approached her and gently wrapped her arms around Wanda, she was trying her best to keep her tears in but that was slightly impossible.

Doctor Helen Cho walked out to the scene, she made herself known by clearing her throat, immediately Wanda turned and stared at her, she was dreading this moment but put a brave face.

“This might be hard to hear but Y/n flatlined three times before going into a stable condition. Some of the bullets made their way towards further into her body, especially into her lung, it was difficult to even take it out but we did it and she should be okay, she lost a lot of blood so we put her into a medically induced coma to record quicker but she can easily slip into her own coma from so much trauma so we will be monitoring her for now” She spoke, explaining everything that went on inside that small room.

The only two things that stuck with Wanda was that you flatlined three times but you’re alright. She closed her eyes, trying her best to keep calm, as she sat back down in the chair, they all looked at the Sokovian, it was kind of scary to see her like this.

Natasha took it as an opportunity to ask if anyone can go in and visit you “Is visiting possible?”

Helen nodded “Yes but one at a time, too much people might disturb her”

Wanda stood up with the most dull face you could witness “How many times?”

Helen took a deep breath “She was shot 7 times”

Wanda nodded and just walked inside the room leaving the 3 behind, she needed to be there when you wake up, she knew how much you hated bright white rooms, she never knew the exact reason but she never asked, she wanted you to tell her.

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Two weeks later

The air in the compound was thick with tense, especially since Wanda never wanted to leave your side but she was needed in some small missions, now that you was gone she was needed twice as much, you and her made missions seem so much easier but now that you are still in the coma, she was forced to leave you.

Wanda was currently after her mission, she was exhausted but she rushed to your side to be there when you wake up, she had a feeling you would wake up. She was there for hours but still no luck, that’s when there was a knock on the door which her head followed, she saw Vision.

She relaxed and walked outside to see him, he tried to convince her to go shower and rest but she didn’t want any of that, she just wanted to be here, you woke up during that time, your eyes scanned the room that’s when it landed outside the window to Vision and Wanda, you were so high on painkillers that you didn’t even notice any pain.

He was extremely close to her, his hand on her cheek and looked at her so lovingly, she looked sad and his other hand was on her hip holding her close. You wasn’t sure how long you have been out but it must’ve been long since Vision and Wanda are now together (Obviously they weren’t), at the sight of them that close, your heart broke. You had feelings for Wanda for sometime now but Olivia was your girlfriend and you knew you had to bury those feelings, especially now that Wanda is with someone else.

You hated bright rooms so your breathing increased, slowly having a little panic attack when you came to your senses, the heart monitor started to beep faster which caught Wanda’s attention.

She ran inside leaving Vision, to which he just walked away a little disappointed, she held your hand “It’s okay Y/n, I’m here sweetie”

You relaxed at her touch but your breathing didn’t steady “Y/n look at me and follow my breathing”

She started to breathe slowly in and out which you mimicked, you was relaxing, she always had that effect on you, tears started to run down your face which Wanda carefully wiped with her thumb.

You leaned into her touch as you blurted out “Take me home please..”

Your pleading broke Wanda’s heart, she knows how much you hate these rooms “Y/n..”

“Please Wan.. I can’t stay here, its too cold and lonely” You begged her and her grip tighten around your other hand.

“I’m here Детка (baby), and I’m not going anywhere” She spoke as she stared into your eyes.

“I can’t stay here” Another tear slipped down your face, Wanda nodded with a sad smile “Okay.. I will talk to the doctor but for now rest, I will be here моя любовь (My love)”

You didn’t understand what she was saying, for all you know she could call you an idiot but the way she said it, just made you want to listen to her talk all the time.

You nodded and a thought struck you “Wanda…” She hummed as an answer to which you continued “Could you lay with me here until I fall asleep?”

Wanda wanted to just stay in your arms forever but to be asked to cuddle you till you fall asleep because you are terrified of this hospital room, made her even happier, she nodded and climbed next to you as you carefully hugged into her, with her scent filling your nose and her heartbeat you felt safe.

“Do you want to know why I don’t like bright white rooms?” you asked and she nodded.

You wasn’t sure if you should look at her because if you broke down it would be harder to stop but taking a deep breath you looked up and stared into her green eyes, they held this reassurance, she didn’t need to use her words, her eyes said it all

“When I was young, my mother and father decided they didn’t want me so they gave me up for some experiments..” You paused as a flashback of the white room appeared before your eyes, you exhaled shakenly “ All I really remember is the multiple white rooms and the cold empty feeling whilst they did whatever they did”

“So please.. Get me home, I don’t want to be here” Another tear escaped your eyes.

Her free hand cupped your cheek as she wiped the tear and nodded with a smile “You’ll go home, just rest”

It pained her listening to your past, as a little girl to be put through something like that, it must’ve been really scary. Wanda’s hand traced circles on your back, relaxing you, making you fall asleep with her. The red power coursing through her hand near your head as she gave you pleasant dreams.

“Sweet dreams Солнечный свет (Sunshine)”

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #the avengers #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda #maximoff #avengers x reader #avengers x you

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! If possible could I request from Prompt List 3 under fluff and romance? There wasn't a number, but it was, “You’re basically a marshmallow. Perfect for cuddling.” with any of the Marcuses! :')

I had to go with one Marcus Moreno because I am soft for him 🥺💕

Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Are you cold?" the tone of amusement in his voice was evident as you turned and narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend. You huffed lightly before sticking your tongue out at him, causing him to break into a wicked grin and giggle wildly. You froze as you stared at him, mesmerized by his breathtaking smile and the way his eyes crinkled in the corner as he laughed, along with the dimples that made their appearance. Marcus Moreno was a handsome man, and how you got lucky enough to call him your own, you’d never know.

“It’s freezing,” you insisted as you held out your arms and gestured to the glittering snow piled high all around you, “of course I’m cold! I wasn’t prepared for...this.”

“Honey,” he calmed himself from his laughter as he made his way over to you, finding it a small struggle from all the snow that littered the ground, “when I said we were going away for the weekend to the mountains in the middle of winter...what did you expect?”

“I dunno,” you pouted at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he held his own arms open to wrap you up, “not quite this much cold. I’m wearing like twenty layers and I’m still freezing, I have no clue how people manage to survive this. I thought it would be a nice quiet anniversary thing...ie.”

“Okay, now you’re just being dramatic,” he raised an eyebrow in amusement as he stepped closer and wrapped you up in his arms before you sighed contentedly, “sometimes I wonder if Missy learns from you or you learn from her?”

But there was a wicked little grin on his face and you almost instantly knew what he was up to. You pulled out of his arms and tried to create a space between the two of you, already holding up your hands in defense. Oh no - no, no, no. You knew him well enough to know exactly where this was going.

"Marcus Moreno!" you hastily backed up and tried to behind a tree as Marcus reached down and scooped up a handful of snow, and quickly formed an almost perfect snowball, "if you know what's good for you, you won't do it!"

"Come on, honey," his voice was colored with amusement as he tried to run over to you but you weaved your way through some trees. You were both laughing as you tried to escape to safety and he started throwing some soft snowballs at you, "we're just having fun!"

"No!" you dodged another snowball, hastily leaning down and scooping up your own handful. You didn't even try to form it in anything before lobbing it over your shoulder at him.

"Nice try," he somehow had managed to evade you and make his way in front of you. You squealed in surprise as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, "gotcha!"

"Cheater!" you giggled as you tried to pull out of his grasp, but he was feeling particularly devilish and started to tickle your sides, "no fair, no fair! You're playing dirty!

"I'm just having some fun!" he insisted as slowed down his assault before making sure you didn't fall into the cold snow from your breathless laughter. He brought you to feet and held you tightly against his chest. He gave you a gentle little grin before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Very funny,” you playfully groaned as he rubbed your back in soothing circles. His touch was like fire, sending sparks up and down your spine. Despite how long the two of you had been together, nearing almost two years now, he still managed to make you feel like you were falling in love all over again. And in a way, you supposed you were; you were always continually falling for Marcus and the million ways he always seemed to dazzle you. There were soft flakes coming down and a few landed in his dark hair; you couldn’t stop yourself as you reached over and tenderly swept them away. Marcus couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips, “can we please go inside and get warm? I think there’s hot cocoa calling my name.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough,” he agreed, reaching down and grabbing your hand, trying his best to hold yours despite the thick mittens you both were sporting. You watched him struggle for a moment before he finally managed a gentle hold, “there.”

“Hey,” you said as he looked at you curiously with that boyish charm all over his face, “I love you. Like really, really love you.”

“That’s good,” a light tinge of pink rose up in his cheeks, this one decidedly not due to the chill of cool breeze, “because I really, really love you.”

“Enough to get me inside and warm?”

“Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as you stepped out of the shower, already feeling infinitely warmer and refreshed, you pulled on the softest and coziest pajamas you had packed. You’d brought a few...sexier pieces, but decided that those could wait for later. You doubted Marcus would mind, if anything they’d be a good surprise for later. RIght now all that was on your mind was getting warm and comfy.

Eyeing the huge, fluffy white duvet on the large bed, you quickly gathered it up in your arms before padding down the hall and into the open spacious living room. The little cabin he had rented for your surprise trip was lovely and quaint, almost picturesque enough to be out of a movie. Ever the amazing man he was, Marcus has started a fire that was merrily crackling away and had set the television on Netflix.

“Honey?” he called to you from the kitchen, where you could already hear him chopping and cutting away at something. You threw the large blanket onto the couch before flopping down on it.

“It’s me,” you confirmed as you keened your ear and found that he was listening to some soft music in the background, humming along to it lightly. It was all these little things, so simple, so domestic, but so endearing that still managed to take your breath away and remind you of how much he meant to you, “love, do you need a hand? I thought we were just going to make hot cocoa.”

“Just making a little snack,” he called back, “just get settled and find something to watch!”

“Are you-”

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” you could practically hear him smiling as you burrowed your way under the big blanket, cocooning up in it so only your face was sticking out. Grabbing the remote, you started scrolling through Netflix as you listened to him messing about in the kitchen.

Eventually you settled on a new show you’d both mentioned watching, getting it all set up as you waited for him. True to his word, it was only a few minutes before he came into view, a large tray filled with snacks and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in his hands.

“Marcus,” you shook your head in amusement as you slowly sat up, “you said a snack...this is….”

“This is the snack,” he moved his head in the direction of the tray before setting it down on the coffee table. He took a step back and pointed at himself, “and this is the whole damn meal.”

You burst into a fit of laughter as grinned sheepishly at you. You were beside yourself as he just looked so proud of his little joke, “Marcus Moreno - where on earth did you hear that? Who taught you that!?”

“I think I heard Missy say something like that once,” he admitted as he came over and you made room for him on the spacious couch, “or maybe it was on some show...isn’t that something the kids say?”

“I’m sure there’s some kids that do,” you reached over and gently touched his face, brushing your fingers over his cheek before kissing him softly, “but you’re right. You are the whole damn meal.”

“And you - you’re basically a marshmallow. Perfect for cuddling,” he gently poked the big, puffy blanket. You lifted an arm and offered him some blanket so he could properly cuddle you and get warm as well. Instead of accepting your offer, he did one better and pulled into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist as you made sure the blanket was covering both of you, “hi.”

“Hi,” you whispered before nuzzling your nose against his and gently kissing him. Even these types of kisses, so tender and slow, were wonderful. Every touch, every taste, everything was so sacred and intimate. You almost sighed contentedly into his touch as you wrapped your arms around his neck and laid against him, feeling his heartbeat against your chest, “you made a charcuterie board. How very fancy Mr. Moreno, are you trying to woo me?”

“Always,” he insisted as he traced featherlight, aimless shapes along your back, “I figured we could be fancy adults for once.”

“It’s greatly complimented by the hot cocoa,” you teased as you placed a few kisses along his jaw. You swore you could feel his heart flutter wildly at your words and kisses, which both was and wasn’t odd for him. You knew he was big into touch and gentle words, and he always relished in your praise. But today, in this moment something felt...different. Not bad...but different, “Marcus? Is everything alright, love?”

“I…” he paused for a moment and you pulled back, looking at him nervously. His soft brown eyes were filled with a mixture of emotions, but the corners of his lips tugged into a soft smile. He brought his hands to the side of your face, cradling it gently as you just watched him with a reverent expression. It was the soft look on your face that caused him to finally break, “marry me?”

“I…” you looked at him with wide eyes as butterflies erupted in your stomach. Surely...surely he couldn’t have said that...right? His own expression was almost as nervous as you felt and maybe...he had said those two little words. You tilted your head to the side as you felt your eyes start to sting with the familiar burn of tears, “I...what?”

“I-I-I know it’s not...I had this planned out better,” he stammered nervously, “I had a whole...well, I guess not. But I just...I’ve been wanting to ask for so long and the timing just never seemed to work out, and I don’t want to wait any more.”

“Marcus…” he held up a finger quickly as he shifted slightly and reached into his pocket and slowly fished out a small ring box. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly as you realized that he must have been carrying it around all day, if not longer. He laughed nervously before opening the box and showing you the gorgeous ring that was nestled among the velvet inside, “oh Marcus.”

“I’ve had this for so long now, and I just think it’s time,” he admitted softly, “I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you...you are everything. I never thought...I never thought I would love someone again, that life would ever get better than what it was, but then I met you. You came into my life, Missy’s life, and made everything so much better. There is no one I would rather by my side than you. I guess I should rephrase this better, but will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you whispered softly, overwhelmed by his soft declaration and the way he looked at you like you had hung all the stars in the night sky, “of course, I’ll marry you, Marcus. Nothing in the world would make me happier than being your wife. You and Missy are the best things that ever happened to me.”

He beamed at you before wiping away the few tears that had run down your cheeks before pulling the ring out of the box and slipping it onto your finger. It fit perfectly, like it had always been meant to be there, neither too large or small, but just...perfect. You couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, melting into his touch, “I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask for so long.”

“How long?” you asked curiously, running your fingers through his dark locks, “how long have you had the ring, silly?”

“A while,” he admitted as you raised your eyebrows in amusement, “I bought after we’d been dating for a few months.”

“Marcus,” you threw your back with laughter, filling the room with his favorite sound in the world, “love, we’ve been together for two years now.”

“I know,” he admitted with a small grin, “I just...I never knew when to ask. I always knew it was you, so the timing didn’t really matter, but I wanted to do it right. And yet...I still didn’t really do it right.”

“You did,” you promised softly, “it would always be perfect because it’s you, and anything with you is just...right. I love you, Marcus. This was perfect, trust me.”

“I love you,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “now, let’s eat and drink the cocoas before it gets cold. We can celebrate more later, and tell everyone then.”

“Let’s wait until we get home,” you suggested, “I want to tell Missy first, in person, and your mom. Then we can tell everyone else. I want to make sure Missy knows first though.”

“She’ll love that,” he agreed, his expression soft beyond words, “she’s been pushing me to ask anyway...she’ll have her little I told you so moment.”

“As she should,” you grinned before moving off of his lap and grabbing your cocoas, “come on then, Mr. Moreno, let’s get warm and relax - I think I heard something about cuddles.”

“Anything for you, Mrs. Moreno.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #wcbh #forever-rogue's follower celebration

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coffee-and-quill · 4 years ago

Text

Birthday Wishes

Stucky x Reader: You have been feeling neglected lately, but Bucky and Steve promised they would be there for your birthday. When they don’t show up, you are left feeling broken, and they are left wondering how they will every make it up to you

Warnings: Angst, Bucky and Steve being adorable morons

_ _ _ _ _

It had been months since you spent any quality, romantic time with your boys. Months since you had woken up cuddled between them, months since they had eaten dinner with you or even gotten home before you fell asleep. Furthermore, it had been months since you had had any intimate sex, nothing more than a quick fuck before rushing off for work. You tried so hard not to get upset. They were superheroes after all; the great Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, the Captain and the Soldier. Villains didn’t stop being villains just because you were feeling a little neglected.

So you shut your mouth. You gave them polite smiles when they said they would have to stay late, you packaged up the dinners you made with love every night, you gave them quick kisses and declarations of love in the morning, and you hoped that things would slow down eventually. Life has a way, you figured out, of really taking the piss out of all of your hopes and dreams.

You had told Steve and Bucky at least 50 times over the last three days that you needed them here on Saturday. You sent them texts, put notes up on the fridge, and even called Tony to explain the situation. They had missed Thanksgiving, they had missed Christmas, they had missed Valentines Day, they were not going to miss your birthday. You didn’t want anything but a full day of attention from the two men who you loved the most.

Yet when you woke up that Saturday, your bed was cold. There was a not on the dresser from Steve saying that something important had come up and that he and Bucky would be back before dinner. You tried to hold back the feeling of dread. You told yourself that a romantic dinner with your loves was more than what you had gotten in a while, and that it was better than nothing. You might even be able to indulge in some well needed release with the two afterwards. So you sighed and began going about the preparations for that night.

A feeling of peace came over you as you sipped your coffee and took out the ingredients for your cake. You had made one on every birthday you had shared with the boys. It was a favorite of all of yours: chocolate devil’s cake with rich ganache frosting and raspberry filling. You still remember the sinful moan that Bucky had let out when he first tried it on his birthday. You had almost creamed your panties on the spot. You smiled at the memory and continued to prep the ingredients, swaying your hips to the soft music playing. It was almost muscle memory at this point. When the cake was in the oven, you prepped the food for dinner. It was one of Steve’s mother’s recipes, rescued from the Smithsonian last year. You lived for the look of nostalgic glee that he got on his face whenever he came home to this meal. It made your heart soar.

As the day wore on, you got more and more frustrated. You had gotten calls from your family, friends, even Tony had called to wish you a happy birthday, but you still hadn’t heard from your boys. It was getting later, closer to the time they would get off. You figured they wanted to surprise you. So you went upstairs, showered, and put on your favorite dress: a sleek, satin, red number that always made Steve and Bucky’s eyes grow dark. After, you set the table, placing the roses you had picked up yesterday into a crystal vase and lighting a few candles. You poured three glasses of the fancy wine you kept for special occasions and sat down to wait.

By the time the clock rolled around to 9, you knew they weren’t coming. You had already drank half the wine and were feeling very, very pissed. You picked up your phone, hands shaking and tears on the edge of you eyes. The dial rang twice before Steve picked up.

“Hey, sweetheart! Sorry, I didn’t realize the time. What’s up?” his voice was far too chipper, and it made you sick.

“Where are you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“We got caught up with something, there is a lot of paperwork. It looks like me and Buck will have to spend the night.”

“I told you that I needed you today, Stevie.” You wanted to throw up.

“I know sweetheart, but can we postpone? Maybe we can have date night next weekend?”

You were crying now. Your breaths were coming in short bursts, and your heart felt like ice; a cold, heavy weight sitting in the middle of your chest making it impossible to breathe.

Steve’s voice cut through, “Is everything alright sweetheart? Did something happen?” You could hear Bucky in the background, clearly recognizing the worry in his boyfriend’s voice. They had forgotten. You had been together for so long, and they had forgotten. You hung up without answering his question.

The room was spinning. Everywhere you looked you saw the remnants of your life with the soldiers. Bucky’s work boots standing by the door, Steve’s favorite book on the coffee table, your mugs set up on the counter together. It was mocking you. You stumbled up to your shared room, ignoring the ringing of your phone downstairs. You didn’t want to think, you just wanted out, away from the pain, away from the reality of your loneliness. You threw some clothes in a duffle and left. You didn’t take your phone. You didn’t want to talk or be found. You could barely see as you drove, tears running down your face and smearing your makeup.

Your mom didn’t ask any questions when she opened the door to find you there, still in your red dress with puffy eyes and a lost look. She opened your arms, and you fell into them and cried.

_ _ _ _ _

Steve was already starting to panic when you didn’t pick up the third time. He racked his brain trying to figure out what was wrong. Did someone break in? Were you hurt? He vaguely remembered something about you asking them to take the day off, but it was lost in the panic of the attack. Some new recruits had returned from a scout to reveal information on three new Hydra bases that they hadn’t even known about. There was paperwork, lots of it, and plans that needed to be drawn up, teams that needed to be assigned. All of that seemed small at the thought of you hurt.

Bucky was pacing nervously. “Did she say anything else? Anything at all?” he asked, biting his lip.

“No,” Steve responded, “She hung up without answering.” The two super soldier were too preoccupied to notice Tony had entered. The billionaire eyed the men curious.

“I’m surprised you two aren’t home yet. I’d assume you’d had some grand plans for your girl’s birthday,” he said smirking. The words hit Steve like a bucket of ice water. He looked over, seeing Bucky with the same expression of shock, guilt, and fear.

Tony looked back and forth between them, and his cocky expression fell. “Don’t tell me-,” he didn’t finish. The boys were out of the room before he could, sprinting as fast as they could down the hall.

_ _ _ _ _

The door swung open, nearly punching a hole in the wall as Steve and Bucky heaved through the door. One look told them all they needed to know. Steve walked up to the table, a gorgeous dinner lying cold on the plate and an empty bottle of wine next to two full cups and an empty one. The candles were burnt out and the roses had been knocked over. As he went further, his breath caught in his throat. The cake, so beautiful and made with so much love and effort, was smashed, and next to it on the counter was the promised ring he and Bucky had given you two years ago. A wretched noise left his throat as he sank to his knees.

Bucky wasn’t fairing any better. His eyes scanned the room with military precision, but inside was a panic like nothing he had ever felt before. As Steve cried on the floor, he rushed past him and up the stairs to their bedroom, hoping to whatever god was out there that you were still here. He knew before he stepped in the room that his prayers were unanswered. The closet was open and your travel duffel was gone. Your toiletries which had so long held the place between his and Steve’s were missing, leaving a gaping hole on the counter that he could feel down to his soul. A cold feeling began to creep through him, starting deep in his chest and spreading outward. It was painful and heavy and dark, and Bucky hated it. He would take Hydra any day over this. What made it worse was he knew it was his fault, he knew and he could do nothing to fix it. You were gone.

He trudged back downstairs where Steve sat motionless, still on the kitchen floor, clutching your ring like a lifeline. He slumped into one of the table seats, where he noticed your phone, abandoned and out of battery.

“What are we going to do?” he asked, voice hoarse with emotion.

Steve looked over, tearing up again. “I don’t know.,” he whispered. Bucky felt his heart sink even deeper.

#stucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #angst #Stucky

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pillage-and-lute · 4 years ago

Text

An Ever Fixed Mark (Part 5)

This is pretty par for the course as far as some slightly horny bits but no actual horniness. Still, if that squicks you, read with caution.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, (here) Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Read it on Ao3 HERE

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The next few days of Geralt’s marriage didn’t fare much better than the first. He and Jaskier were truly an ill match. Sure, the young man was charming, not even Geralt was immune to his wiles, and he was certainly easy on the eyes, but he’d never met someone as annoying as Jaskier.

Jaskier could talk a mile a minute, and the less Geralt talked, the more Jaskier did. This rankled. Geralt had learned that talking less was supposed to encourage less conversation, but clearly Jaskier hadn’t grasped that.

Far worse than the talking was the singing. Singing, humming, tapping, even playing his lute, Jaskier was always doing something. It was like riding beside a musical whirlwind, with the added penalty that at least a whirlwind wouldn’t know lyrics.

It wasn’t totally Jaskier, Geralt knew. They were riding hard to get as far from Lettenhove as possible, and the weather hadn’t let up. It had rained for almost five days, steady, drenching rain, with never enough time to get dry. They went to bed damp and woke up damper. Their socks were moist, their hair sopping. Jaskier was pouting because he couldn’t play his lute and somehow that made him more talkative. Despite the springtime, the rain was cold and sometimes he had to pause mid chatter to shiver. All this, made Geralt’s mood go south. Worse, he always hated parting from his brothers. There were so few of them, the first days without them were hard.

And he had to deal with some spoiled little rich boy.

That wasn’t being fair to Jaskier, he rarely acted spoiled, not really spoiled. It was, however, intensely clear that he was used to comfort and they were not, right now, comfortable. He didn’t complain too much about things Geralt couldn’t change, like the weather, apart from the odd sniffle about all his clothes being wet. He did beg to stay in an inn though.

That bothered Geralt too. They really had little money, and here the lad was trying to get Geralt to spend it on something they didn’t need. He’d survived rain before.

That thought gave Geralt pause. Of course he’d survived rain before, but had Jaskier? It was unlikely. Days and nights of being slightly damp and chilly weren’t good for humans, they tended to get things. Like chest infections. And pneumonia.

Geralt spared a glance at the figure riding, hunched, beside him.

Unfortunately, Jaskier seemed to take this as an invitation.

“I can’t wait to get to Oxenfurt,” he said. “I have this friend, Essi, I think you’d love her. She’d certainly love to meet you, and she’s quite pretty, so even if you won’t tell me your stories perhaps you’d tell them to her.”

Was there a hint of bitterness there?

“Anyway,” Jaskier continued. “She wouldn’t be frightened of you in the least, I know because one time we were drunk... well, I was drunk and she was tipsy, and this man came up, really rough looking type you know? And I was raised to be polite so I ask him his business...”

Geralt stopped paying much attention. If the bard could manage that much, all in one breath, he was fine. Jaskier continued, all about this Essi character and a man trying to mug them in an alley. Apparently the girl had kicked him in the rattle and flute so hard he’d thrown up.

“And there’s this great pub,” Jaskier was saying, gesturing broadly with one hand and flinging raindrops into Geralt’s face. “It’s called the King’s Boots, dunno why, but it’s got good ale. Like, really good, not the swill you probably get in these little backwater towns. Pretty barmaids, too, if that takes you fancy.”

There it was again, that odd little inflection.

“It took my fancy, when I was a student there, of course. They weren’t terribly interested in me but, well, I began studying there at fifteen. Really, I still had spots. I wasn’t the catch you see before you now.”

Geralt didn’t deign to respond. Whether or not Jaskier was a catch wasn’t something he was going to weigh in on.

Even if he definitely had an opinion.

That was maybe the worst of it all. In spite of the constant noise and restless intrusion into Geralt’s life and routine, he did like Jaskier. That was good, considering they were married, but he wanted to kiss Jaskier, at least once. Just to try it out. That was bad because their marriage was about a half inch from being a sham. Married in name only.

“What sort of ladies do you get?” Jaskier was asking. “I mean, it’s obvious you never have any trouble finding partners.”

Geralt thought of a woman in the woods, of Blaviken, of blood.

“Shut up.”

“No really, Geralt,” Jaskier whinged. “I wan’t to know. Queens and mages? Legendary beauties.”

“Prostitutes.”

“Ah, legendary beauties it is then.”

“I don’t know about legendary,” Geralt said, cursing himself as he did so for encouraging this inane line of questioning. “But they were beautiful enough. For a price.”

“Ah the ladies and gentlemen of negotiable affection will forever have a place in my heart,” Jaskier sighed. Geralt wasn’t about to hear Jaskier’s sexual history in any capacity. For his sanity, he decided to shut the conversation down.

“I expect they’re the only ones willing to touch you.”

Shit. That one had been too harsh. He didn’t mean it, surely men and women and people all fell at Jaskier’s feet with even a glimpse of his smile. He must know he’s attractive.

Jaskier barely spoke the rest of the day. He wasn’t even pouting, exactly. Just...quiet.

They made camp under cover of some trees. The thick canapy leant enough dryness that Geralt could build a big fire and they hung their clothes over some low branches to dry. Out of the corner of his eye Geralt saw Jaskier take the basilisk leather from his pack and stroke a hand over it, which was strange. The material simply didn’t absorb water and needed no care.

Perhaps he just...liked it. It was a nice thought, sitting sort of warm and heavy in Geralt’s stomach, like a good meat pie. Jaskier liked his gift. Of course, he’d known that, back the day they’d met. That actually, apart from Jaskier’s father, hadn’t been too bad of a day.

Geralt thought about that day as he hunted wild game for their supper. He snagged a pheasant, a male, because it was mating season, and remembered how nervous he’d been, how at ease Jaskier had seemed. Perhaps it was because Jaskier had likely always known it would be, at least somewhat, a political match. Geralt had never thought there’d be a match at all.

Back at camp Jaskier had water boiling and was sitting in front of the roaring fire in just his trousers and chemise, even his socks so damp as to need a good drying. Geralt set the game to boil with a few wild carrots for a stew and sat beside him, feeling his hair finally begin to dry.

“This didn’t start out bad,” he said. He meant them, of course, and he meant it as a sort of apology, even if he knew it was woefully lacking. He just didn’t know what to say. Somehow, Jaskier’s mind must have been running along the same track.

It’s alright. You never wanted to get married to me.”

No, Geralt thought but didn’t say. I never wanted to get married. It has nothing to do with you. There’s nothing at all the matter with you. I’m just a grumpy bastard and we’re not a good fit.

A little voice in the back of Geralt’s head said, ‘you could be. If you let yourself, you could fit’. It sounded unnervingly like Eskel.

The truth was, if it had been anyone besides Jaskier, especially any noble, Geralt may have hated all this more. Jaskier liked nice clothes and clean appearances, but he wasn’t vain. He liked nice things but wasn’t greedy. He craved praise but wasn’t prideful, disliked many things but wasn’t hateful. Compared to the thieving, conniving, small minded nobles Geralt knew, he was unlike them all.

He was definitely unlike his father.

Jaskier played his slow tune on his lute. It was comforting and almost familiar, just background music. Geralt stirred the pot, breaking up some larger chunks of meat with the spoon.

Maybe this would fix some things. They’d be dry, with hot food. That could fix a lot.

“Geralt,” Jaskier asked. “Can I sing?”

Damn. Well, it was weird the lad was asking for permission, but Geralt didn’t like the idea of controlling the man’s voice, no matter how often he told him to ‘shut up’. Somehow it didn’t feel the same.

“Whatever,” he said.

Jaskier sang lowly, voice pitched at the edge of human hearing. Geralt wasn’t a human, of course, and could hear it clear as day. It was a folk song he’d heard before, a tragedy about a young woman who’s love left and she drowned herself.

It didn’t seem fitting. Jaskier was so lively. Geralt prayed he hadn’t fucked up enought that he’d dampened the bards spirit.

“Do you know The Chandler’s Wife?” Geralt asked when Jaskier’s song was done.

“That one, with the” Jaskier clicked his fingers three times, mimicking the snapping or tapping that happened in the song.

“Hmmm,” Geralt confirmed, nudging the contents of the pot.

Jaskier began to play. It was a bawdy song, with tapping substituted where innuendo would be. It was simple and cheerful and short, and by the time it was finished they both had steaming bowls of stew.

“Of all the songs you could have asked for,” Jaskier said, blowing on his stew. “I never would have picked that one.”

“Lambert’s favorite,” Geralt grunted.

Jaskier chuckled. “Makes sense, seems like his sort of song.” He took a large spoonful of stew and groaned in delight. Geralt very emphatically did not pay attention to that sound in any way at all.

“I expect you miss them,” Jaskier said.

“Some,” Geralt didn’t want to talk about it, so he focused on shoveling stew in to his mouth instead. Jaskier got the hint. He just settled one tentative hand on Geralt’s shoulder for a second, then went back to eating. He may as well have pressed a brand to Geralt’s skin.

That night, in their separate bedrolls in mostly dry and fire warmed clothes, Geralt could still feel Jaskier’s palm against him.

There was another reason, Geralt knew, for his over-grumpiness. It was guilt. Mostly he was alright, but hearing Jaskier chatter excitedly about Oxenfurt and all the things they could do together there...ate at him.

Jaskier had said he didn’t want to be left. Gotten rid of, had been his phrasing. And Geralt was going to. This rain had just been proof, though. Next time it could be pneumonia or hypothermia. The boy shouldn’t be out here.

It didn’t help Geralt sleep much better. Jaskier had also used the phrase ‘abandon’.

-- -- *-- --

The next village had a monster problem.

“Drowners, what do they do?”

“They drown people, Jaskier.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “No, I meant, what do they look like--”

“Ugly.”

Another eye roll. “And how do they do it. Do they spin like an alligator? Do they sink claws in and pull...?”

“The second one,” Geralt said, sharpening his sword. He figured they were far enough from Lettenhove that whatever political turmoil Vesemir had unleashed wasn’t going to catch them too soon.

“I can’t wait. Do they have scales? Fins? Are they slimy like frogs?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, finally paying attention. “What do you mean ‘you can’t wait?”

“I get to see you in action! Heroic witcher risks his life for helpless townspeople, it’s all very...Galahad.”

“Galahad?”

“Yes Geralt, he’s only the most famous hero written about in the last three hundred years,” Jaskier said. He was gesturing broadly, the way he always did when talking about literature. Geralt settled in for a rant.

“You know, ‘my strength is as the strength of ten becasuer my heart is pure,’?” That was Jaskier’s quoting voice.

“Never heard it,” Geralt grunted.

“That’s okay, it’s about this hero who’s good and saves everybody. You’re better than him anyway because you’re real.”

“I’m...better than a mythical hero.”

“I mean...yeah,” Jaskier said like it was obvious. “Everyone knows flaws make a character better. You’re totally hot with a heart of gold, score. Very classic. But also,” Jaskier turned to him grinning. “You’re emotionally constipated and smell like onion.”

“You said heroics a few days ago.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever, that’s what’ll go in the songs. Best of all is that you’re a witcher. Nobody likes witchers but that can change. You’ll be a tragic hero!”

“Tragic?”

“That hair is, do you ever brush it?

“We’re getting away from the point,” Geralt said, resisting the urge to swipe his fingers through his hair. “You aren’t going to see me fight.”

“What, you can’t just leave me at camp!”

No, no he absolutely couldn’t just leave Jaskier at camp. There could be assassins, wolves, anything.

“We’ll get a room at the inn.”

“Really? Oh Geralt, a real bed would be so nice, there’s been this crick in my neck, but you’re not leaving me in an inn room either.”

“You could perform.”

“Excellent bait, but no.”

“Jaskier, please. You need to stay in town,” Geralt was pleading. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been pleading. Probably when he was trying to convince Vesemir not to marry him off for the betterment of witcherkind.

“I want to see you fight!”

“It’s dangerous!.”

“You fight tons of these, right? I’ll stay super far away.”

“You could still get hurt, something goes wrong and you’ll get hurt! Humans are...soft.”

Jaskier tilted his chin up defiantly. Because they were the same height this wasn’t exactly necessary, but it gave Geralt a better view of his simply devastating eyes which was...not helping.

“I have the perfect plan,” Jaskier said. Were there silver flecks in his eyes? In this light Geralt was almost certain there were.

“I’ll stay back,” Jaskier was saying. “Any distance you want so long as I still get a reasonably good view. And I’ll wear the basilisk doublet.”

It was a good idea. Jaskier would stay back, the doublet would keep him safe.

Geralt might get another chance to be smiled at byJaskier.

Doublets. Doublets, doublets doublets. Think about the doublet.

“That would only keep your chest and arms safe.”

Jaskier smirked and patted a hand on Geralt’s chest, causing his slow heart to speed up just a little. “Are you going to let a drowner get to me? Get to my head, Geralt? My pretty face?” Jaskier pouted and Geralt’s stomach flipped over.

“Fine,” Geralt grunted. “You can come along.”

Jaskier looked very fine, all buttoned up in his basilisk leather doublet, and he was surprisingly quiet. This area of the forest was silent. and the ground was soft and slightly damp underfoot. They were near the Pontar river, which they would follow the rest of the way to Oxenfurt.

Here and there Geralt could see signs of human activity, but thankfully no humans in the area. Signs of woodcutters, likely the ill-fated ones who’d discovered the drowner’s pond in the first place, were scattered about.

They came within view of the pond. More swamp, really. It was so covered in green algae that it looked like some sort of oddly paved floor. It was as still as glass. Geralt took Jaskier’s--surprisingly strong--shoulder in one large hand and steered the boy to a log that he deemed was sufficiently far to be safe. Then he drew his sword.

Drowners weren’t hard to fight, and here in this little pond there were just two, skinny and hungry. Geralt felt relief flood him as he realized that he wouldn’t even need his potions. He didn’t want Jaskier to finally understand what a monster he was. Geralt was enjoying putting off that realization as long as possible. He was also enjoying being a noble hero, likened to this Galahad character, who sounded alright if a bit boring.

Geralt rolled his shoulders. He didn’t need to, but it looked nice and Jaskier was looking. The first drowner was close, now, trying to sneak through the algae, but Geralt’s vision was much better than its. He waited until the wretched thing lunged.

The slash of the drowner’s long claws missed Geralt narrowly, but he hadn’t been worried. He pivoted, working on years of instinct. This was who he was. Here he was on much safer ground than with courting and castles. He was a witcher, and fighting monster’s was what he was trained, and to some extent built, for.

The first slash didn’t kill the drowner, instead lopping off the arm that had so recently threatened to claw his eyes out. Then, with a clever twist of his wrist he sent his blade back the other direction, lopping off the head. It had taken all of a second from the point of the drowner’s lunge.

It’s companion was slinking up, ready to attack as well but Geralt didn’t need time to recharge. His senses honed in, he felt his pupils dilate to take in the low light coming between the trees and he leapt.

No normal man could have made the leap that sent him over the drowner’s shoulder and onto the shore behind. It hadn’t been the full length of the pond, but rather a diagonal leap that gave him just enough time as the creature spun around. Geralt brought his sword down and cleaved the thing in two.

“Holy shit.”

Geralt looked up, not even breathing hard.

Jaskier was still in his spot on the log. Unlike Geralt, he was breathing hard. There was a flush across the tops of his cheeks, pretty and pink, and his eyes were wide. Even from his spot across the pond Geralt could see the dark pupils and the blue of his irises.

Gerals severed the heads and warned Jaskier that he was removing the brains for his potions. His response was a squeaked ‘okay’.

Damn. Had he scared the lad? He didn’t smell scared. Geralt wasn’t sure what Jaskier did smell like.

He took the brains quickly and packaged them, then slung the heads of the drowner’s from Roach’s saddle.

Thunderbolt, Jaskier’s horse, had been left at the inn. Inaccurately named, the creature, despite his large size, was docile, gentle, and prone to startling.

Geralt dipped his hands in the scummy water and dried them on his pants to at least get off the worst of the gunk.

“Well?” he asked Jaskier.

“Wow,” the man said, stepping closer. “That was quick, too.”

Geralt grunted. “Only two.” He didn’t bother mounting up, leading Jaskier and Roach out of the forest and back towards town.

Jaskier’s heart still sounded like it was going a little fast.

“Frightened?” Geralt asked. The lad smelled like adrenaline and...oh.

“No, just...exhilarated I suppose. I’ve never seen a battle like it.”

Jaskier smelled aroused. Now that Geralt had realized what it was it was all he could smell. The scent clogged his nose and set his brain in a pink, fuzzy cloud. Did Jaskier think...? Would he want..?

Except, of course not. Everyone knew you could get sort of adrenaline high. Plenty of young warriors got a little...stiff after a battle. And being nineteen, Jaskier probably got, got in that situation, with a light breeze.

He was looking up at Geralt like he’d personally hung the moon, though. No one had ever, as long as he could remember, looked at him that way. There is a certain kind of beauty that comes with being kind to someone, Geralt knew. He hadn’t often seen it. Eskel had scars across his face that were frightening even to some other witchers but his friendship and care towards Geralt always blurred those over.

Now, in this fetid, swamp of a forest, Jaskier was developing that special beauty to Geralt as well.

He was loud and talked all the time, even now that he seemed to have regained his wits he was chattering about what he’d write. His voice sounded less harsh in Geralt’s ears, though. Because Jaskier thought Geralt was special, and that made him special in return.

They made it back to the inn, with a brief stop at the alderman’s house, muddy to the knee, although that wasn’t new. Geralt was also somewhat bloodspattered, which was horrible and wasn’t winning him favors with the townsfolk.

“Got a room?” he asked the innkeeper, a bent old man that Geralt could probably lift on one finger. As is the wont of many smart inkeepers, there was a taproom on the first floor of the inn, and he was industriously cleaning mugs.

“One,” the man said. “One room, one bed. No prostitutes, them ladies’ gotta do business elsewhere.”Geralt nodded and handed over the coin.

“Bathouse in town?” he asked. They followed the old inkeeper’s directions to the edge of town, near the river.

“I can’t wait for a good bed,” Jaskier said. “But I think I’m looking forward to this bath even more. I think my dirt has dirt on it, and my hair is disgusting. Yours too, will you let me wash it?”

Geralt wasn’t listening, also looking forward to the bath. He hummed in response.

“I hope it’s hot,” Jaskier continued. “No, hotter than that, I hope it’s boiling. I want to feel like a carrot in a stew pot when I get in.”

“You’d be a turnip,” Geralt said without thinking.

Jaskier sniffed. “And you’d be an onion.”

Geralt almost chuckled at that. The only reason he didn’t was that, at this moment, it was probably almost true. They both smelled pretty ripe. Jaskier had been correct, too, about there being layers to the grime. Geralt could almost peel himself. Like an onion.

“Anyway, I think I’d be something special, like a dash of pepper or, oh! I’d be a tomato.”

That caught Geralt off guard.

“What.”

“A tomato, when they’re cooked just right so they almost burst when you cut into them and the juice explodes all over your mouth.”

Geralt wasn’t going to think about any juices of any kind exploding all over anyone’s mouth. Especially not Jaskier’s mouth, with it’s pink lips and clever, wicked tongue that darted out from time to time to wet them.

“Don’t you think so, Geralt, aren’t I a tomato?”

“Hmmm.”

Jaskier did it again! It was liable to take Geralt’s sanity, the sight of him wetting his chapped lips like that. Maybe if he didn’t speak so much, worse, if he didn’t bite those lips so much, they wouldn’t be so chapped. For some reason Geralt had an insane desire to smear ointment across Jaskier’s lips with his own fingers.

They would feel so soft.

Geralt paid the bath house attendant and they followed directions to a separate area in the low, stone building, where they could strip off and have a sort of sponge bath. This was of course so that they didn’t get dirt and monster guts in the bath, and was done with each in their own little three-walled wooden stall. Geralt had to call for a second bucket of water to get the guts from his hair.

Sufficiently scrubbed, he stepped out into the main baths. Only then did he realize the crucial fault in his plan. They were open plan baths. Jaskier was beside him wearing nothing but a towel. Geralt, likewise in a towel, began to sweat.

He kept his eyes firmly forward and cursed his excellent witchery peripheral vision because he could see...see Jaskier. Dark chest hair, soft and slightly damp. The way a droplet of water trailed from the back of his hair and down his neck, wetting tender skin.

Fuck.

Jaskier walked towards the bath as if nothing was amiss. Of course, nothing was amiss, they were just two traveling companions. Having a bath. For Melitele’s sake they were married, even.

Geralt saw Jaskier’s foot hit a wet patch and the young man’s steps faltered, sliding a little. Geralt caught him with all his witcher speed, feeling Jaskier collide with his chest. Those blue eyes again, and yes, definitely silver in them.

Jaskier was blushing, whether from proximity or steam, Geralt didn’t know. He leaned in. Jaskier’s tongue wet those inviting lips again.

“You missed a spot on your cheek,” Geralt said, drawing back. He hadn’t been sure it wasn’t just a freckle, but it was definitely a bit of dirt. Jaskier sighed.

“Better get in and wash it off, then.”

Why did he sound dissapointed?

Geralt looked away as Jaskier released his towel and slid into the water, doing the same and waiting a second until he was absolutely sure it was safe to look. Jaskier had his head tilted back to rest against the floor, where the bath was sunk into the ground. Geralt sat next to him on the little ledge and let the warmth hit his muscles. It wasn’t boiling as Jaskier had hoped, but it was warm and lovely. The day’s fight hadn’t set any ache into Geralt’s muscles, but the days of sitting tensed up about Jaskier had, and he let them drift away.

Next to him Jaskier hummed contentedly and Geralt couldn’t help but agree. They lingered, not speaking, in the warm baths until they were truly pruny. Geralt neatly had to drag Jaskier out, but couldn’t risk Jaskier becoming too drowsy and drowning.

They toweled off and redressed and were back at the inn in time for supper and for Jaskier to play.

Geralt sat in the back of the small taproom, glowering about at anyone who looked like they might get close. He would have gladly gone up to their room and not bothered but Jaskier was performing. He couldn’t leave the bard there, where anyone could attack him, or ply him with too much alcohol and rob him or worse. Besides, he was curious.

Jaskier was capable, in an odd sort of way that was so far different from what Geralt was used to, but he was good at things. There was nothing he tried that he seemed to be terribly bad at. Geralt wasn’t a good judge of music, but he wanted to see if this applied to performing.

As he’d suspected, it did. Jaskier was masterful. Not only was his music top notch, but all his energy, the liveliness, the live wire electricity of him was directed when he performed. Normally, all that energy seemed to make Jaskier’s thoughts and actions a little disorganized, almost mess. Here, in this dingy little tavern, it made him radiant. Every eye was watching, every gaze enthralled, at least for a short time. If Geralt’s medallion hadn’t lain still on his chest he would have called it magic.

It was incredibly sexy. This was Jaskier in his element, fierce and confident and wearing the doublet Geralt had given him.

That struck a strange little shiver down Geralt’s spine. A piece of Geralt, prancing about, tied to Jaskier. The gift of the wolves of Kaer Morhen shimmered and twisted with his movements, the black pearl buttons catching dim light. Every eye was on Jaskier, some more salaciously than others, but Geralt couldn’t have cared less. He wouldn’t have cared even if someone had kissed Jaskier there and then. Geralt had no claim to Jaskier like that, they were only married in name. But they were married, and somehow Jaskier so proudly wearing that doublet meant more than a kiss ever could.

A little part in the back of Geralt’s brain wondered if he could have a kiss and Jaskier wearing the doublet, but that was silly.

Geralt went out to see Roach briefly when the performance was over. The applause was too much for his ears and his head, but ran back in when he heard the shouts.

Three men had Jaskier against a wall, looking furious, and Jaskier looked angrier than they were.

“Let him go,” Geralt growled, hand going for his sword...which was upstairs in their room.

Fuck.

The men turned to him, all holding knives that were only knives because no one let swords get that jagged.

“Your whore here,” one of them said with a shrug towards Jaskier. “Was telling us all how we shouldn’t talk shit about you witchers.”

“Yeah,” sneared another man with rotten teeth and even more rotten breath. “Got all righteous.” He stepped forward, raising his knife. “Said we ought to be thankful.

Geralt felt his muscles tense, gearing for a fight he really, really didn’t want to have.

“I think we oughta show you our ‘gratitude’,” said the third man.

“Or I can show you the door to the next world,” a voice purred. It was Jaskier.

“What is poking into your kidney, or thereabouts,” the bard continued. “Is a fish knife, I believe. I picked it up off the table. It’s pretty sharp, so I wouldn’t recommend moving very quickly. I would recommend, if you like to keep living, dropping your weapons, all three of you, and just walking away.”

The man’s compatriots looked at Jaskier in confusion. Jaskier pressed the knife in just a hair’s breadth further.

“Do it,” growled the man currently held hostage. Three knives clattered on the floor.

“Very good,” Jaskier purred in a voice that was both menacing and sent electric signals all the way down Geralt’s spine. “I can see you’re the brains of the outfit. Now apologize to my friend.”

“Wha..?”

Jaskier twitched his knife hand. “Apologize. To. My. Friend.”

“I’mverysorrymisterwitcher,” the man said, all in one breath.

“Good, and?”

“And...and thank you for getting rid of the monsters?” said the man, hesitantly. Jaskier let down the knife.

“Scram,” he said. The three toughs fled.

“A fish knife?” Geralt asked, trying not to focus on how spine tinglingly sexy that had been.

Jaskier shrugged. “I don’t keep weapons on me usually. Shall we go to bed?”

Bed turned out to be an overstatement. It was pretty much a cot, and a very slim one at that, but neither of them were going to sleep on the rough floorboards so they squished in together.

Jaskier snuggled up to Geralt with contented little humming noises and laid his head on his chest. In the corner, in the moonlight from the window, Geralt could see the basilisk leather doublet where it lay on Jaskier’s pack. It would be a shame, he thought, wrapping his arms around Jaskier to keep him from tipping entirely out of the narrow bed. To part from his husband in Oxenfurt.

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Tag List!

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People who I tried to tag but can’t seem to: @ailorian @thenameislion-dandelion @darkangel91939 @saphiramalbec

Supposed to be tagged and weren’t? Is your tag listed but not actually linked? I’m having some trouble, so let me know!

#geraskier #the witcher #arranged marriage au #geralt of rivia #jaskier #BAMF Jaskier #Bath scene #briefly #pining #miscommunication #they each think the other is sexy #and that they couldn't possibly be interested

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unlocktxt · 4 years ago

Text

↬ prompt: #16 “yell, scream, say something. anything!” ✧˖°

member: yeonjun

genre: angst

word count: 2.7k

warning(s): slight making out/suggestive

this was starting to occur everyday... almost naturally. yet again you awake and stretch out your arm to the other side of the bed. the surface that was accompanied by the warmth of your boyfriend was replaced with an empty vacant spot. you wish that you could say you were used to it by now, but the crushing disappointment of his absence each morning told you other wise.

your mornings by yourself were common now, so each morning was the same. each time you’d get up and make your way to the kitchen to grab the mug with the sticky note message on it.

you’re as beautiful as the stars. i love you ~ yeonjun

it was simple and sweet. a reminder that even if he couldn’t be with you at the moment, he thought of you. today was the plain navy mug. he chose your favorite mug, which was your favorite because he managed to buy it from the first cafe you went to.

now it was your turn for your morning message. the coffee was brewing in the back ground as you texted him.

stay energized. i’m always waiting for you!

he never really told you what he was doing, but he’d always mention “practice.” what that practice was... you don’t know. you considered it was dancing because he always came back exhausted and sometimes his body would be over worked. at times, he would come home with some soreness and you would massage the areas that hurt the most. every time you told him he needed to take a break he would get this determined look in his eye before stubbornly saying that it’s not an option.

at one point he came home with his shoulder drooping. you knew that something was up with him that day and let him cry into your shoulder that night. even then... he left you early in the morning once more.

the coffee was bitter, resting on your tongue and reminding yourself of the loneliness in the apartment air. the box in the corner of the room reminding you of your anniversary coming soon. despite his absence, you knew he also was preparing for the day that marked a year. it was something that tugged at your heart, but you truly just wanted him to rest properly.

you were planning on cooking tonight, but your plans of having a nice meal together were set aside when he texted you back.

don’t cook tonight. date tonight. ;)

even through text he could bring a smile onto your face. you couldn’t ask for more. he was so busy, yet he always put time aside for you. you had been infatuated with him when first meeting him, but you quickly fell in love with his kind, flirty self.

the curiosity ate you up. you wished he would’ve told you what type of date you were going on. he had you feeling like a highschooler again, searching through your closet and picking out many different outfits. casual, fancy, or sporty. you didn’t know what to expect, but you were practically ascending from the excitement. in order to calm your anticipation, you had to turn on the tv and watch some groups performances.

unlike your old house where you could make figures out of the dots, the ceiling above you was plain. you couldn’t try to guess how many dots there could be, only being able to stare at the ceiling and get lost in your thoughts.

once the door creaked open, everything that was trapped in your mind disappeared. now focusing on the boy who walked into the house, you were filled with a warm fuzzy feeling. he however, didn’t seem to come in feeling like that. he was once more exhausted and looked as though his life supply of ramen was just taken from him. as soon as his eyes met yours though, he wore a mask. his tired expression dissolved into the air, but he couldn’t hide his eye bags and dull eyes that once shone brightly.

“hey baby! are you ready?” he quickly put down his stuff on the corner to the left before running over to you and jumping on the couch.

you looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “you know... if you’re tired you should rest.” you grabbed his hands from infront of you and entwined them.

his head shot up at you, looking at you with underlying sadness... no it was more than that. he knew something you didn’t and you’d wait for him to tell you.

“no! we have to go on this date together, so let’s go get in our pajamas and hurry!” he wouldn’t give you a chance to reply, dragging you by your arm to the bedroom.

“pajamas? what kind of date are you taking me on?” you laughed while watching him rummage through your pajamas. he settled for the fuzzy grey pajama pants with a simple blue shirt that once belonged to him before throwing it at you.

“that is for me to know and for you to find out.” he smiled, moving on from your dresser and onto his. you huffed before changing out of your clothes. he was quick to change into his fitted pajamas, that he never wore because he sticks to underwear at night.

he turned towards you after quickly slipping into his outfit. “beautiful.” he smiled at you with adoration.

you cursed because handsome just didn’t do him justice. “and you’re captivating.”

it was only eight pm, so he managed to get home early just for this date. you don’t know if that was why he was rushing or if it was because he was beyond excited. either way... whatever the reason that didn’t stop him from rushing into the car and driving.

soft music was playing in the background. the stars were shining brightly, reminding you of yeonjun’s eyes that used to shine so brightly. you loved looking outside the window, watching as the two of you got further away from the bustling city. his humming to the song was comforting. you always knew he was an amazing singer, but he just kept getting better and better recently.

“you know... you’ve improved a lot.” you turned to look at his focused eyes that lit up once more.

“really? how so?”

“i catch you singing sometimes and you’ve gotten more control over it. at least that’s what it seems like to me.” you watched as he smiled satisfactory.

“i’m glad... now we’re here.” he stopped the car slowly, his indication causing you to look out at the mountain view. it was gorgeous. far off you could see many different city lights, reminding you that there would always be somewhere to escape to. was this all yeonjun wanted to show you? it was a nice spot.

“come on. i’ve already gotten it set up.” his soft voice pulled you away from the scenery and mimicking his movements to get out of the car. usually being outside near the woods at night would spark fear within you, but knowing yeonjun was seconds away helped.

you watched as yeonjun grabbed the picnic basket and blanket from the trunk, the date clicking in your head. “oh! a late night picnic!”

he chuckled at your small clapping, admiring how much the little things pleased you. he didn’t need money to impress you. “not just a late night picnic... it has the pleasure of welcoming my beautiful y/n.”

his proud grin on his face could only make you smile. “you’re so cheesy.” you punched him playfully after following him closer to the edge.

“but you love that about me.” that you did.

there had been a round rock close to the edge of the mountain, giving you a clear view of the trees below you and the city with the moon directly above it. you had to snap a picture of yeonjun right in front of the city lights while throwing down the blanket. the picture was perfect... a reminder for yourself about his ethereal beauty.

“well... are you going to keep staring or are you going to bless me with your company.” he laughed while patting the area beside him. as you walked over to him, making sure to get fairly close to him, he pulled you down gently and rested you against him.

“this is beautiful yeonjun. you’re everything i could ask for.” he remained silent, allowing you to bask in the silence and find your peace in the slight breeze. you made note of the basket containing food that you couldn’t wait to eat. “or well... you and food.”

his head turned to watch you reach for the food, scrummaging through all of its content. your hair was blowing in the wind. the image of you in his shirt, rummaging through the basket causing him to lean back and smile at the stars above.

you had finally found the sandwiches, making sure to grab one for yeonjun you turned back to see him laying down peacefully. despite knowing it was going to be harder to eat that way, you laid down beside him.

“what’re we looking at?” you stared up at the stars, trying to find a constellation. you were never good at finding these things, definitely not when you usually couldn’t see them with the polluted air.

“see that bright star right there? it’s right next to that little curve of stars.” his finger was pointed towards the sky, but you had been searching everywhere for it. in order to see what he was seeing, you scooted your head closed to his.

from this position you could finally see what he was pointing out. there was a brighter star inside a little c made from the rest of the stars. “what about it?” you asked.

without you realizing it yeonjun had turned his head to kiss you on the cheek. you smiled before turning to look at him. “think of me when you see it. c for choi... the bright star is you. i wish i could protect you forever... just like how those stars are protecting that bright one.” he really had an amazing way of seeing things. without him, you would’ve just been looking at the dotted sky. you questioned how he wished he could protect you forever, but let it go once you heard his stomach growl.

“okay enough sentimental talk. let’s eat.” you sat back up before dragging him to sit up with you. he finally gave into your efforts before taking his sandwich from you.

“i’m sorry that this isn’t something fancy.” he apologized after one bite, causing you to look at him with reassurance.

“baby don’t say that. you know that i love spending time with you. we could watch a movie at home together and i’d still appreciate it.” you grabbed his hand with yours and turned his head towards you with you other hand.

“i love you yeonjun. never forget that.” you smiled, closing your eyes and resting your head against his. this was the type of affection you loved.

yeonjun stared at your closed eyes, guilt only seeming to consume him. he just wanted this last moment with you to be something he could cherish for years... was that selfish?

“i love you y/n. never forget that.” never forget that. that sentence was enough to remember those two sentences for ages. it would trap the two of you in a never ending longing... yeonjun knew that. he just wanted to fool himself for just a while longer.

he closed his eyes and tilted his head just a bit before leaning in. your soft lips against him erased your worries. in this moment all you had was yeonjun. all you had was love. a young love that you believed would last forever. he was kissing you passionately as if he would never get this chance again. he resisted the urge to bite your lip, sticking to the pure aspect... even if his tongue roamed against your mouth. the two of you went on like that before slowing down... making sure to savor each other.

when the two of you pulled apart all of the noise came to a stop, almost as if the forest was waiting and listening. you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath after holding it for so long. yeonjun had done the same, but he didn’t give you time to look at him before he pulled you into him. it was a tight hug- a spontaneous one that surprised you.

it only surprised you more when his body slightly shook- your shoulder becoming wet. he was crying. confusion and worry hit you quickly as your heart rate increased. you tried backing up from the hug to look at him, but he only hugged you tighter. you were going to say something, but you knew all he needed right now was you. your arms made sure to tighten themselves around him before drawing circles on his back to calm him down. even if you got uncomfortable after sometime, you sat still... waiting for him to decide he’s better.

you don’t know how long he cried against you, but it was long enough to tell you that something was really hurting him. when he pulled away his red eyes could be seen in the dark, they were already beginning to swell. you wished you had some ice to help.

“do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” you finally asked, meeting eye contact and holding onto his hands to comfort him. your thumb was sliding back and forth against his palm.

yeonjun nodded before swallowing the lump in his throat, “i’ve been a trainee for a while now... i didn’t tell you because I was scared to lose you.” he looked at you for confirmation to go on, to which you nodded. “well... we’re getting to the point where we might debut soon. i won’t have time for us... i can’t hold you back.”

it took sometime for you to process what he was saying. you didn’t know if he would be the one holding you back, but you knew that if you tried to stay with him... it would hold him back. the passionate fire in his eyes whenever he’s determined... now you know where it came from.

“i don’t want to do this, but i have to. we need to break up y/n.”

you knew it was coming from where he was trying to get at, but the words still broke you. you froze. there was no crying... there wasn’t any indication that you had heard him. you were just completely frozen. trapped inside your thoughts... your memories. you didn’t think losing him would happen like this... or at all. the ground was nice to stare at. it’s different textures doing a good job at distracting you.

“y/n.” his voice was soft, but you didn’t want to acknowledge what was happening. not yet. “yell, scream, say something. anything!” you were going to make him cry again. he already felt guilty and it wasn’t his fault.

for one last time... you’d be able to do what’s best for him. “i understand yeonjun. let’s break up. don’t let me hold you back... go out and live your dream.” you tried hard to keep your voice firm, but it only caused you to be quiet. you finally looked back into his eyes that looked equally as broken as yours. you had to be the strong one. you weren’t going to cry. not yet.

“i’m sorry y/n. please just forget about me. you don’t deserve me.” he pleaded, downgrading his worth.

“don’t be sorry yeonjun... this happens in life. when you debut... and i know you will, i’ll be out in the crowd supporting you from afar. don’t downplay your worth because someday... you’ll be able to make thousands of people happy in more ways than imaginable.” he was an amazing fun-filled boy. you would always love him and you had faith in him. if you think about how he would be able to help plenty of people instead of just you... it makes it easier.

“y/n...” he didn’t know what to say. he didn’t expect this from you, but then again you were always grateful for anything the world gave you. he��s learned a lot from you and he’d never forget that.

from above the bright star- surrounded by the stars making a c- only shined brighter.

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Three

Summary: You meet Javier for the third time. Additionally, you both begin to discover how much the Murphys love to meddle.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, innuendo

A/N: This is where things start to get interesting! I’m so in love with this fic and can’t wait for all of you to hopefully love these two like I do! This chapter was really fun to write (Steve and Javi are so much fun) and from here, it’s the interesting stuff!

p.s. this gif makes me WEAK... do you know how badly I want to make Javi smile 🥺

previous chapter | next chapter

You’ve known Javier Peña for a total of five days now, have met him twice, but he’s still all you can think about. Lorena catches on easily that something has put you in a dreamy and lovely mood as you hum and smile to yourself, folding the linens for beds.

“¿Quiubo, Ana?” She asks, bumping into your side and teasingly asking you what’s up in Colombian slang. Your name is not Ana, no, but the girls around here love to call you it; they derived the nickname from americana. As much as it bugs you, it’s better than gringa, your original name around here.

You shake your head, ponytail swinging lightly behind you. “It’s nothing,” you shrug, but you’re smiling, and Lorena giggles a little.

“Nothing my ass. Tell me, who is it? It’s gotta be someone, right?” She asks, and you smile a little wider, shaking your head again. “No one smiles while doing the goddamn sheets, chica.”

Shrugging, you wrap up a blanket and giggle. “Well, there’s a guy, yes,” you finally admit, biting your lip as you think about him. His face, his handsome face, the way you made him laugh. That seemed rare from a man like him.

Lorena squeals and bounces, her dark and curly ponytail following her movements. “Tell me everything. Come on, I’m your best friend, you know you can,” she whines, grabbing your arm.

You yank your arm away to continue folding the sheets, but you still have a dreamy smile as you think about him. “Well, I met him at the gym. The night that woman died,” you tell her, and both of you droop softly at the memory, though the excitement returns as you think of Javier again. “His name is Javier. Oh my god, he’s so handsome,” you laugh as you picture him. “He’s got this mustache, right? It looks so 70s but it’s so hot on him.”

Wiggling her eyebrows, Lorena laughs and picks up some sheets, helping you fold them. “All the better when his mouth is between-“

“Lori!” You squeal and push her teasingly, laughing at her terrible thoughts. “Jesus Christ,” you groan, but the smile remains plastered on your face.

“Estás tragada, Ana,” she practically sings as she sees the look on your face. It’s another slang term around here- literally, it means you’ve been swallowed; figuratively, that you’re head over heels.

Rolling your eyes, you toss a folded sheet down on the table. “I’ve known him for five days.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be completely in love with him,” she teases. Lorena is young, only 19, full of dreams and hope. She’s similar to the Disney princesses you grew up on, you think, huge brown eyes gleaming and dark waves bouncing along with her.

You shake your head. “Don’t you have a catheter or something to go do?” You tease her, chuckling as her expression sours. “Go on, ¡ábrase!”

Lorena rolls her eyes and leaves the room. “Tragada!” She shouts before closing the door, leaving you to your folding.

Javier lights a cigarette, watching the smoke trail from the end of it. It’s hypnotic for a moment, exactly what he needs to keep his mind off of the two most pressing matters in his head right now: the paperwork in front of him, and you. He takes a drag from the cigarette and exhales for a moment before sipping the coffee in front of him, expression dropping from completely neutral to a frown when Steve sits down in front of him.

“Mornin’, Javi,” the blonde man grumbles as he plops down in his office chair, taking a long swig from the large coffee mug he holds. Javi raises his eyebrows quickly in greeting before turning back to his paperwork, but Steve is in a chatty mood today. Unsurprising, Javier thinks, as Murphy starts talking again. “Spare one?” He asks, nodding to the cigarette.

Groaning, Javier nods and hands him one and his lighter. “You owe me around $30 in spares now,” he says teasingly, his mind elsewhere.

Steve rolls his eyes as he brings it to his lips and lights it. “Real friends don’t keep running tabs.” “We’re not friends, we’re partners,” Javier says, trying to sound threatening, but they both know it’s a lie. Steve is Javier’s best, if not only, friend.

“Speakin’ of friends, heard from Connie that you’ve got a new one. One that does more than fuck you,” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You wanna tell me ‘bout her?”

The cigarette returns to Javier’s lips for another long and slow drag before he bothers responding. “No.”

Murphy laughs a little at that, sipping his own mug of coffee. “Good news for you then. You don’t have to. The word around the hospital is that she’s completely smitten with you,” he informs the man across from him, the coffee mug covering the lower half of his face.

That finally grabs Javier’s attention, causing him to lift a brow in curiosity. Steve grins. “So you do like her as more than something warm at night,” he chuckles a little, setting down his mug. “And you haven’t even kissed her yet, wow,” he nods, observing Javier’s reactions and reading them.

Javier rolls his eyes and Steve laughs again. “I’ll have to tell Connie all about how you feel. Maybe that girl’ll get the nerve before you and make the first move.” “Don’t you fucking dare, Murphy,” Javier practically hisses at him, leaning across his desk.

“Wow,” Steve chuckles and leans back in his seat, dragging out the vowel of the word. “You’re really into her.” “I am not some teenage boy you can poke and prod and call chicken, Stephen,” Javier threatens, annoyance clearly growing. “What I do with my love life is none of your fucking business, unlike you and Connie seem to think,” he says with force, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

“Jesus, Jav. Just trying to help,” he shakes his head and drinks the last of his coffee, standing. He takes Javier’s mug too, heading for the coffee machine in the break room. “One last thing: Connie told me that the girl gets off at 6 tonight, and she’s going to the gym after.” Steve smirks a little and turns away.

“Fuck you, Murphy!” Javier shouts after the man, who’s walking to the break room with a little more pep in his step.

Murphy flips Javi the bird over his shoulder.

As you walk to the gym, the sweltering heat of Colombia doesn’t annoy you as much as normal. You’re already about to be sweating your ass off, it’s fine. The sun is slowly slipping down the horizon, not quite at sunset yet, casting a golden glow over the crowded streets.

Someone in the street is singing, and it fills the warm air just the way the humidity does. He’s talented, playing a guitar too, and you toss a 50 peso coin in his case as you pass. You hum along, the song familiar to you thanks to the radio, even murmuring the words to yourself. It’s an absolutely beautiful evening, and the only thing that could make it more beautiful would be encountering the beautiful DEA agent who has occupied a corner of your mind for the past week

Turning the corner, you spot the entrance to the gym, and notice that the door is being opened by a man with slightly wavy brown hair and a neat mustache- Javier, you grin to yourself. You jog a little to catch up, calling his name, and his eyes seem to glimmer a little as he hears you.

You’ve never seen the man in the daylight, and it’s truly a sight to behold. The light accentuates the hills and valleys of his skin, the slight hook of his nose, and most importantly his stunning eyes. The light catches them just right, showing the depth in those shimmering brown rings around his irises. His hair is lighter than you thought, when it hasn’t been dampened by sweat, and shines in the sunlight just like the rest of him does. “Fancy seeing you in the daylight,” you tease, an easy smile crossing your face.

Javier is noticing the exact same things about you. His lips tug up in one corner at the way your ponytail bounces and swings with your steps, your beautiful skin in the golden-hour sun, the way your smile lightly crinkles your nose. He opens the door for you and follows you inside. “It is different, I agree. So no graveyard shift tonight?” He asks you.

Nodding, there’s a genuinely excited smile on your face. “Yep. For the next two weeks, I only work days. I can’t wait, oh my god,” you sigh, tightening your ponytail and shoving your bag into a locker. “How about you? This is an odd hour for a man with your job,” you ask.

The man simply shrugs. “Believe it or not, I get off at about 5:30 every night. I usually end up at the office for much longer, considering the workload.”

That surprises you. “Holy fuck, you’re kidding,” you laugh, unable to believe it, but Javier simply shakes his head, confirming it to be true. “Do you at least get paid overtime or something?”

“It’s not manual labor or anything, so no. It’s just expected of you when you’re on this kind of job,” Javier shrugs, walking to the boombox before you can and turning on a station of lively Colombian music.

“I’d die. I’d literally die,” you laugh, adjusting your tank top and making your way to an elliptical.

“You save people for a living. I deal with a lot of blood, and I can barely handle it; meanwhile, it’s your literal job to deal with that stuff,” he shakes his head and gets on a treadmill, a couple of yards away from you and facing the same wall.

“Different people are suited for different work, I suppose,” you shrug as you begin moving, enjoying the relaxation that comes with the moment.

The two of you continue on your respective cardio machines for a while, before you break the silence and pause the machine to take a swig of water. “Where’s your water bottle, huh?” You ask him.

Javier stops his machine as well, amusement in his eyes. “You know, I don’t seem to be able to get as hard of a workout in when you’re around. Too much chatter,” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

You’ve been known to babble, too much sometimes, and that makes a little bubble of anxiety pop inside your stomach. “Shit, I’m sorry Javier,”’ you shake your head and turn back to the machine. “I’ll stop-”

“I never said I don’t enjoy it,” he says, the deadpan cracking and a small smile tugging across his face. It makes the anxiety dissipate as easily as it formed, the way he smiles at you and those beautiful eyes meet yours. “Like you said when we met. It’s nice to talk to an American,” he shrugs simply, crossing his arms for a moment before letting them drop again. “Especially one like you.”

You giggle softly at that, biting down on your lip and looking down. When you look up, Javier has turned the machine back on and is holding a comfortable jog. Fine, so that’s how he wants to play it. You bite down harder on your lip to hold back a stupidly lovestruck grin from crossing your face, instead turning back to your machine and getting moving again.

A while later, a few snarky comments from each of you, the 30-minute period the cardio machines run comes to an end. You both sigh, panting and regaining your breath, as you try your hardest to keep your eyes off the man in the large mirrored wall. He’s handsome when he’s working out too, you’ve known that since the first time you met him, his tan skin flushed and tinged with pink. The sweat coats his forehead and you wonder if it’s uncomfortable to have that mustache when he’s exercising- maybe you should ask, you consider, but immediately change your mind. He already finds you nosy, you’re sure, you don’t need to push it more.

The man turns to you, hands on his waist. “Weightlifting competition?” He asks, a smirk on his face as he breathes heavily.

“Oh, you’re fucking on, Peña,” you laugh, grabbing your water bottle and taking a long swig from it. You set it down on a weightlifting bench a few moments later after you find your way to a squat rack. “Let’s do squats, huh?” You ask, already moving to put your preferred weight on the bar.

Javier tries to hold back his discontent when he sees the weights you’re loading onto it. “I was really hoping for maybe a bench press or something, but I guess I never specified,” he murmurs, sitting on the bench and waiting for you.

When you’re all set, you get under the bar and lift it on your shoulders, walking forward and doing a couple of squats. You make eye contact with Javier and shoot him a wink, earning a little chuckle and a twitch of the top lip, hidden beneath his mustache. You walk it back and set the bar down, then crack your back softly and look at him. “Go for it,” you say, gesturing to the rack.

“I suppose I can’t back out now,” he nods, getting under the bar in a similar way to you and letting out a grunt. “Fuck, you’re strong,” he grits out as he stands up, the bar resting on his traps. He does one squat, with effort, then returns it to the holding spot. “Okay, you win.”

You whoop happily, throwing your hands in the air and laughing. “Jesus, maybe it’s a good thing you’re coming here more often,” you tease, moving to take the weights off the bar.

“Maybe it is,” he chuckles to himself as he removes the weights from the other side of the bar, thinking about it. It is good for him; he gets to see you.

tag list:

@diogodxlot

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfic #blood sweat and tears

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aliendes · 4 years ago

Text

BTS reacts to saying something hurtful and then regretting it PT.2

Anon: Hi Angel🥺 i adore your writing and i was wondering if you were going to make a part 2 to the BTS reacts to saying something hurtful I looooove part 1🥺

Anon: Absolutely loved the most recent reaction !! DEFINITELY NEED A PART TWO

Anon: Could YOU PLEASEEEEE DO a part two for the bts reaction where they something hurtful😭😭😭 but fluffy ending if possible, I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR WRITING

Anon: Hi dude, I was wondering if you would do a pt.2 to BTS reacts to saying something hurtful and then regretting it, pls do it if you're still thinking bout it!

A/N: ok damn I didn't think you’d want a second part this badly lol but here it is! * I’m sorry this is so shit, this was supposed to be posted earlier today, but I worked from home today because someone at my work was diagnosed with COVID yesterday, which is scary. But then I’ve had a migraine all day, and fell asleep for SIX hours!? That never happens. So sorry it’s so late, not that you guys know that, but still and sorry it’s shit.

Warnings: angsssssst, fluff, mentions of sex, but no sex, cursing, mentions of cheating in the past, mentions of blood and stiches, a lot of these deal with another member being YN’s best friend, sorry it made things easier D: *unedited as per usual

Word count: 6.7k ~

In your rush to leave the apartment, you hadn’t realized you left your phone plugged in on your nightstand. Now it’s been over an hour you’ve been walking around the streets of Seoul, no way to call your sister, who would likely come pick you up. It’s not like it mattered, you didn’t really want to talk to anyone anyways. You just wanted to walk. It was your coping mechanism for a lot of things; anger, fear, sadness, anxiety. You were feeling a mixture of all of those things, and walking was a relief to you right now.

You continued walking for a little while longer, not realizing that your feet had taken you to your best friend’s apartment building. Letting out a heavy sigh, you figure you might as well crash here, you know Yoongi won't mind.

Entering the fancy looking building, you pass the guard sitting near the front entrance, showing him your ID, which you thankfully had with you. You knew you were always on the list of approved visitors, and he was shortly letting you up the elevator.

When you reached your best friend’s door, you held your hand up to knock, but before your fist could make contact with the wood, it was being swung open.

“YN! Oh my God!”

Your eyes widened in shock as you took a step backwards, not expecting to see him here. “Jin?”

Your tall boyfriend steps over the threshold of Yoongi’s apartment, lifting his arms to hug you, but thinks better of it and drops them to his side. You can see dried tear tracks on his face, red rimmed eyes, and a purple bitten lower lip, all signs that he’s been crying, hard.

“YN, I’m so sorry,” he sobs, letting fresh tears roll down his cheeks, “I-I was so worried, y-you-”

His mumbling is cut off by a firm hand on his shoulder, making his eyes fall shut as he lets the sobs rack his chest. “Come on, man,” Yoongi says stiffly behind him, “go wash yourself up.” Nodding his head, Jin turns around with one last sad glance in your direction, and disappears down the dimly lit hallway.

Yoongi watches him for a moment before turning to you, gesturing into his apartment with a nod of his head. You hesitate for a moment, briefly wondering if you should just leave, but decide your feet hurt and it’s too chilly to start walking again. Reluctantly, you follow your best friend into his living room and plop down on the couch. Following you shortly after, Yoongi falls next to you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders.

“He told me what happened,” he says flatly, looking at you in the eyes, “he feels like shit.”

“Good,” was all you could say in response, crossing your arms over your chest. You were done being sad, now you were angry.

Yoongi sighs next to you, “YN, I know you’re upset. You have every right to be, trust me. But you love him, and he loves you. Right?”

You want to refute him, but he’s right. You both love each other more than anything, you know that. Nodding your head, your bottom lip juts out slightly and starts to wobble. Yoongi squeezes your shoulders at the sight, “I think the two of you should talk it out, hmm?” You nod again, not trusting your voice. “You guys can crash in the spare room, I’ll head out to the studio.”

“You don’t-”

“YN, it wasn’t an offer, it was a statement.”

Knowing how stubborn your best friend was, you shut up and nodded your head again, letting him stand up and grab his jacket.

“You know I love you both,” Yoongi said, hand on the doorknob, “but I will be upset if you fuck on my furniture.”

You scoff, head twisting back to glare at him, but he was already gone. Shaking your head, you let it fall back onto the plush sofa as you wait for your boyfriend to emerge from wherever he was.

It felt like hours later when you opened your sleepy eyes, realizing you’d fallen asleep on Yoongi’s living room couch. Blinking a few times, you turn, only to realize you’re laying sideways, and you’re in a warm embrace.

“Jin?” you mumble, sleepily, as you look behind you at your boyfriend’s sullen expression.

Closing his eyes and sighing through his nose, he lays his forehead against your shoulder. “I’m sorry, YN,” he whispers, voice cracking slightly, “I’m so sorry. You know I love you, right?”

Turning around in his loose grasp, you hear the squeak of the couch underneath you. Pressing one hand against Jin’s firm chest, you bring the other up to cup his wet cheek.

“Yes, Jin,” you mumble, making him open his eyes to stare into your own, “I do.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he cries softly, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you mumble, leaning forward to press a kiss on his nose, “I know you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for running away.”

He shakes his head, pressing his plush lips to your forehead, “No, don’t apologize. I was just so fucking worried when I got to Yoongi’s and you weren’t here. I thought - I thought something happened to you, you always come here when you’re upset.”

You bit at the inside of your cheek, contemplating his words for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I just got lost in my thoughts,” you chuckle darkly, “but I’m okay, and I love you.”

Another tear rolls down Seokjin’s nose, “I’m so glad I have you in my life, YN. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I lost you.” He sniffles, making you reach up and wipe at his tears.

“Then we’re lucky you’ll never have to find out.”

Jungkook and Yoongi are both jogging down the streets near the company building, trying to find where you went. Yoongi was about to have a full blown panic attack when he realized you had completely fled the building with no phone or bag. He was beside himself with grief, his mind turning to the worst case scenarios immediately.

After not finding you in the immediate vicinity of the building, he and Jungkook split up, Jungkook going to look at your best friend’s house, and Yoongi going to check your apartment. He brought your bag with him, which included your keys. He knew you wouldn’t be able to get into your home without them, and felt terrible that you might be wandering around the city, alone with no way to contact anyone.

Your bag and jacket in hand, Yoongi took the elevator up to your floor, hoping beyond all hope that he would find you somewhere around here. As he stepped off the elevator, his ears immediately perked up at the sound of light sniffles. Rushing out of the elevator doors, Yoongi stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you, sitting on the floor, back leaned against your apartment door, hugging your knees to your chest. Your forehead is resting on the tops of your bent knees, so you haven’t noticed him yet. He can tell you’re crying by the uneven breaths you take. His heart breaks, completely crumbles in his chest at the site of you attempting to curl in on yourself.

He instantly rushed forward, dropping your bag and jacket onto the ground next to you, and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands reach out and as he places both of his hands on your shoulders, your head jerks up, startling at the sight of your crying boyfriend.

“Y-Yoongi?” your eyes are so swollen and your vision is so blurry, you think for a moment you might be seeing things.

“Yes, baby,” he whispers, “I’m here, I’m right here.” He watches as realization slowly takes hold of you, your face falling and twisting into a pained expression, almost like you’re disgusted he’s in front of you.

You sniffle loudly, turning your head away from him, not wanting him to see what a mess he’s made of you. “Please go away,” you murmur into the empty hallway. You don’t see it, but Yoongi’s face falls even more as he realizes you really don’t want him near you. You never shy away from his physical affection, even when you’re upset with him.

“YN, please,” he begs, hands sliding down your shoulders and your arms, eventually reaching your hands as he gently takes them in his, “let me take you inside, at least.”

Without looking at him, you nod, letting him help you stand with the grip he has on your hands. He lets go of one of your hands and bends over to grab your bag and jacket before getting your keys out and opening your door. You let him lead you inside and into your kitchen, you let him sit you down at your kitchen table, and you let him make you a cup of tea. You don’t take your eyes off a water ring stained to your wooden dining table the entire time, and it isn’t missed by Yoongi.

“I didn’t mean it,” Yoongi whispers as he sits down across from you, setting your favorite RJ mug on the table, “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean what I said.” You slowly looked up at him, eyes still devoid of emotion. He winced at the fact that he did this to you. “YN, you have every right to hate me, to kick me out, to slap me if you want,” he takes a deep breath, “but you are not crazy. You are not like your mother. You are beautiful, funny, smart, and the most caring woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Being with you has made me a better person, and there is no one in the entire world more deserving than you of love. I’m an asshole, and I used your insecurities against you for a stupid fucking reason. I regret it more than anything, YN.” He was crying by the end of his speech, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. The left side of his lips were doing that twitchy thing they did when he was upset, and you instantly felt the need to embrace him.

Standing up slowly, you move towards your sulking boyfriend, and put your hand on his shoulder. He looks up at you, bewildered that you are even touching him. “I don’t forgive you,” you start, making Yoongi’s hope dissipate, “yet. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. What you did was fucked up, Yoongs.” You whisper the last part, eyes starting to well up again.

Yoongi pulls you down onto his lap, swinging your legs over his lap and hugging onto your middle tightly. “I know. Trust me, I know. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I promise you I will work every day to gain your trust back.” You lean your head on his shoulder, nodding your head. You weren’t about to forgive him after what he did, but you weren’t about to lose what the two of you had either.

“I love you,” he sniffles, kissing your forehead, “and I’m sorry.”

You didn’t get far before your feet started killing you in your work heels. You made it a couple blocks away before you couldn’t walk any further, and sat down on a park bench. To make matters worse, it had started sprinkling as you sat there. You didn’t have your phone, or a will to get up, so you sat there and sulked in the rain. You figured you would eventually get up and head back to your apartment and fall asleep, but for now you just needed to think.

Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you contemplated your relationship with Hoseok. He is usually so bright and bubbly, seeing him so angry scares you. On top of that, he called you dumb. You knew he would never harm you physically, but then again, you thought you knew he would never harm you emotionally either, yet he did exactly that today.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the light footsteps nearing your bench over the light drizzle of rain. Nor did you feel the presence of someone sitting next to you, just as drenched as you were.

Suddenly, you feel a warmth on your knee, making you startle violently, wiping at your face with your already wet long sleeve. It was no use, you were just making yourself more wet. You jumped so hard you caused the owner of the hand to pull away instantly.

“Hoseok?” you ask, blinking through tears, lips trembling due to the cold and your emotions. Looking up at him, you see he’s in no better condition. Eyes swollen and leaking, lip red and bitten, a habit of his when he’s anxious. He has the hand suspended in midair that was previously on your knee, and he looked almost like he was afraid to touch you.

“Baby,” he mutters, though you can barely hear him as the rain starts to pick up, “please come home, you’re going to get sick. I can stay at Jin’s place tonight if that makes you more comfortable.” He sounded completely broken to say those words, like if he spoke them it made it true that he made you uncomfortable.

At the thought, you furrow your brows. Did you feel uncomfortable with Hoseok? You didn’t think so. Disappointed? Sure. But not uncomfortable.

You shake your head lightly, reaching out to grab his hand in yours. He almost flinches away from your touch, so startled that you would initiate contact right now, but he composes himself and allows you to rest your hands in your lap.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you mutter, gnawing on your bottom lip, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me like that.”

Hoseok looks even more distraught at your words. “But that’s the thing, I’m a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have hurt you in any way, not just physically. It’s clear that I hurt you with my words, and I’m such a dipshit for doing so. I made a promise never to hurt you, and I broke that promise.”

He was right, he had promised that. Years ago when you first started dating, you had major trust issues because of your cheating ex. Hoseok had taken things slow with you and made sure that you trusted him fully before taking your relationship any further. You were thankful for him, thankful for how caring he was.

Tears were leaking from your eyes again, mixing with the rain water falling onto your face. “Let me take you home, please, YN?” He sounded so desperate, so small, like if you told him no it would break him.

Staring him in the eye, you nod your head. He lets out a relieved sigh as he stand ups, pulling you with him.

Once the two of you make it home, Hoseok leads you into the bathroom, both of you cold and shivering. Sitting you down on the side of the tub, he reaches over and turns the knob to turn on the hot water and then pours your honey bubble bath into the stream of water. The smell instantly relaxes you and you let your eyes slip closed as you sigh lightly. Before you could open your eyes, you hear the door to the bathroom opening again.

“Wait,” you rush out, snapping your eyes to Hoseok’s retreating frame. He stops, turning around to face you, lips blue from the cold. “Please,” you beg quietly, “stay.”

Hoseok looks conflicted. He looks like he wants to stay, so badly, but he also looks like he might make a run for it at any moment. “A-are you sure, YN? I can go to Jin’s for tonight, give you some space.”

“Do you love me?” The question surprises you as much as it surprises Hoseok. It slipped from your lips without your permission, giving away how you truly felt because of his words earlier.

“More than anything,” he answers instantly, dropping his hold on the door knob, “do you think I don’t?”

Hoseok takes a few steps towards your still shivering frame and reaches out to wipe tears from your cheekbones that you hadn’t even noticed were falling. “YN, I am so sorry if I ever made you feel like I don’t love you. I was angry earlier. I had a shit day and that is no excuse for the things I said to you, okay? Don’t let me make excuses for myself. But do not ever think that I don’t love you because of what I said.” His words were soft, yet firm. You could tell he meant everything he said. Sniffling, you nod your head in affirmation. When he stands straight again and goes to walk away, you grab his wrist quickly.

“P-please Hobi,” you whimper, “don’t leave me.”

“Oh Angel,” he says, sitting on the bathroom floor in front of you, “I would never leave you. I just thought you’d want some time to think.” He spoke so softly you could barely hear him over the running of the bathtub behind you.

You shake your head quickly, “I don’t want time to think. I want to talk about it, work it out. Together.”

He smiles sadly down at you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “I don’t deserve you, you know?”

You return the gesture, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist. “I know,” you whisper into his chest, “take a bath with me?”

“Of course, love.”

It’s been two weeks since you’ve been back to your apartment. Since the incident at work, you’ve been consistently working from home, so you’ve been staying with your sister since you and Namjoon got into the fight.

He’s tried to contact you multiple times, sent you countless texts, and even tried to show up to your sister’s apartment about a week ago. You’ve completely ignored him, other than the one text you sent telling him you were safe and not to worry. You had packed all your essentials so you haven’t needed to go home yet, though you figure you will soon.

You were working on your laptop when you heard your phone buzz on the table next to you.

From: Jimin [2:37 pm]: hey YN

From: Jimin [2:37 pm]: can you come over?

You [2:39 pm]: to the dorms?

From: Jimin [2:41 pm]: yeah, we need to talk to you

You set your phone face down on the table. You felt like they were tricking you into seeing Namjoon. You just weren’t ready to face him yet. You knew you would eventually, you still love him with all your heart, but you really just needed time.

*Bzz*

From: Jimin [2:48 pm]: he won’t be here, I promise

From: Jimin [2:49 pm]: please

You sigh after reading his last message. You loved the boys, you truly did. You knew that they wanted to talk about Joon, but still, it was hard for you to say no to them. Especially Jimin, which is probably why they had him text you.

You [2:55 pm]: ok I’ll be there at 5

From: Jimin [2:56 pm]: thank you!!

When you arrived at the dorms, the door was unlocked. Knowing they were expecting you, you let yourself in, slipping your sneakers off at the door and making your way towards the sound of voices in the kitchen.

When you walked into the dining area, the three men sitting at the table all turned to look at you. You were met with Jin, Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jimin.

“Uh,” you started dumbly, “what’s up guys?” You held onto the strap of your bag a little tighter, unsure of what was to come.

“Hey YN,” Jin said, getting up and walking towards you, pulling you into a tight hug, “we’ve missed you.”

You had to bite your lip to start tears from springing to your eyes. Jin was the most sincere person you’ve ever met, and you knew he meant it when he said it. It hurt you worse than you thought it would, seeing them. You missed them, too. Though you missed Joon more.

“Come sit down,” Jimin said softly from the table, “we’ll be quick. Promise.”

“Is Joon here?” Your voice cracked slightly, making Yoongi raise an eyebrow as you sat down across from him.

“He’s with Hobi-hyung and Tae-hyung in the studio,” Jungkook says from next to Yoongi.

You nod your head and set your back at your feet, folding your hands in your lap. Jin takes a seat next to you, with Jimin at the head of the table. “What did you want to talk about?”

All four men shared a look before Yoongi spoke up, “Namjoon isn’t doing okay, YN.”

Your head snapped up at this, worry filling your eyes. Jungkook was quick to speak up, “He’s not hurt, YN. Don’t worry. We’re just really worried about him.” He was gnawing on his lip and it made you nervous.

“He hasn’t been eating properly,” Jin whispers from next to you, “or sleeping.”

“He’s been staying at the studio sometimes all night,” Jimin says, “and he’s been staying here.”

This shocked you more than anything else they’ve told you. The reason you and Joon got an apartment is because he wanted his own space. He loved his members, but he liked time to be alone. He hasn’t lived with them in years.

“He says the apartment smells like you,” Yoongi says, dark eyes staring into yours, “YN, he’s hurting. Bad. What he did was fucked up, but don’t you think he deserves a chance to make it right?”

“Yoongi,” Jin cautions from next to you.

“No, Jin-hyung,” Yoongi cuts in, “I know he hurt you, YN, but he regrets it so much. I’ve never, in all my years knowing him, seen him this affected by something. I’m begging you, please talk to him.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, tears threatening to fall. Jimin gets up and walks around the table to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders as you look at the other three men in front of you. Nodding, you let a single tear fall into your lap. “Okay.”

You decided to wait in Namjoon’s dorm room for him to get home, while Yoongi made up an excuse for why they needed them. When you heard the front door open and the baritone of Taehyung’s voice carry throughout the house, you braced yourself to see Namjoon for the first time in weeks.

The minute he walked through the door and saw you, tears were rolling down your face. Neither of you said a word as you ran to each other and crashed into the other’s arms. You didn’t realize how much you missed the sobbing man in your arms until you were both on the floor in a heap of bodies, crying into the other’s shoulder.

“YN,” he sobbed, “ar-are you actually here?” The sound of disbelief in his voice broke your heart. You could feel he’s lost a bit of weight, and he looked absolutely exhausted when he walked through the door, but the brokenness in his voice is what hurt the most.

“Oh Joon,” you pulled back from him to look into his tired eyes, “of course I’m here. I never left, not like that.”

He was biting at his lips, tears falling down his face and onto your laps as he nodded. “YN, I’m so sorry,” he says, bringing his hands from around your back and holding both of yours in his own, “I can’t believe I said such mean things to you, and over something so stupid.”

You gently shush him as you rub your thumb against the top of his hand. “It’s okay Joon,” you soothe, “we were both being stupid. You were right, I shouldn’t nag you just because I’m home more often now.”

“Please don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers, “I promise to do better and to make you happy.”

“Me too, Joon, me too.” You stare into each other’s eyes, a silent promise, before your lips are crashing onto his in a passionate kiss.

It didn’t take long for Hoseok to find you sitting in your car in the parking lot. You locked yourself in there when you decided you were in no shape to drive, crying into your steering wheel at the events that just took place.

Hoseok had coaxed you out of the car after a few minutes and now the two of you were sitting in his recording studio, while he told you about how Jimin had been lectured by their dance teacher, one of the things that gets his self esteem at its lowest points. After the lecture, the members were practicing one of their old choreos that they would be performing at an awards show, only to have Jimin fall multiple times while doing some of the more difficult moves. He was feeling like he wasn’t as good as he used to be, and it had him feeling insecure. Right before you walked into the practice room, him and Hoseok were trying to smooth some kinks out in the routine and he was too frustrated to get them right.

You knew Jimin well, and you knew he was probably feeling terrible about himself, and now probably even worse because of what just happened with you.

“I’m sorry Hobi,” you said, sniffling softly, “I should have listened to you.”

“No, bub,” he says reaching over and grabbing your hands, “you just wanted to make sure he was okay. None of this is your fault, okay?” You nod your head and let Hoseok’s words sooth you. You’ve been best friends since high school, he always knew how to calm you down. “I’ll go make sure Jimin is calm and I’ll have him come in here. You can have some privacy. You’re both pretty sensitive right now.”

You nod again, not trusting yourself to not cry if you spoke. Hoseok takes one last look at you before standing up and going to find Jimin.

You sit on the comfortable leather couch, collecting your thoughts, for what feels like forever, until you hear the code being input on Hoseok’s door. A moment later, you see the soft pink hair of your boyfriend poke around the corner. When he turns to look at you, he’s wearing an almost unreadable expression. You can tell he’s been crying, his eyes are a little red and his cheeks are a bit puffy, but otherwise he looks calm.

“Can I sit with you?” he asks in a small voice.

You nod your head, mirroring his unsure expression. “Of course, Jimin,” you whisper, scooting over slightly to make more room on the couch.

You both sit there staring at the other for a moment, before Jimin speaks, “Can I -”, he starts, before cutting himself off, snapping his lips shut as you raise your eyebrows. He takes a moment to configure his thoughts before he tries again. “I’m sorry, YN,” he mutters, hurt clear in his voice, “can I please touch you?”

Your heart broke at the fact that he felt the need to ask you. His hands were folded politely in his lap, making no effort to reach for you, like you didn’t want him close. Without saying anything, you stand up from your spot on the couch, and plop back down on his lap, shocking him, his hands flying to grasp your waist to steady you. You wrap your arms around his neck in response, placing a soft kiss on his head. He instantly relaxes into you, his hands kneading your sides, head resting on your shoulder as he lets out a deep sigh. You stay like that for a moment until you hear light sniffles and you realize your boyfriend is crying.

Scooting down a bit, you bring your hand around and cup his cheek, “Jimin-ie,” you whisper.

When he looks up at you he looks so defeated and you decide then and there that you hate that look. If it were up to you, he’d never feel this way ever again. “You’re perfect to me, Jimin,” you whisper, making him scoff, trying to turn his head away from you. You don’t let him, though. “I’m serious. You may not think so, but you are so talented, sweet, and funny. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever known and I’m so lucky that you love me.”

He scoffs again, “How can you say that after what I just said to you?”

“Because I love you,” you say simply without hesitation. “I know that you were feeling insecure and anxious. I understand that you need love and acceptance when you feel like that.”

Jimin’s eyes soften at your words, another tear rolling down his cheek. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You chuckle lightly, rubbing your thumb against his cheek, “You were so perfectly you, I couldn’t help but fall in love.”

“I love you, YN,” he sobs into your shoulder, “and I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Jimin-ie,” you stroke his hair, “let’s go home, yeah?” He nods into your shoulder as you place a kiss to his forehead.

Taehyung has posted himself up outside the bathroom door, waiting for you to come out. He wasn’t going to let this fight last. He wasn’t going to let you think he thought you were anything less than perfect. He couldn’t lose you because of his stupid and reckless mouth.

It’s been an hour since you locked yourself in there. He could hear you run yourself a bath, sit in there for a while, and then heard the tub draining. He hoped you’d be coming out soon, so he leaned his back against the door, resigning himself to sitting there all night if he had to.

Another 10 minutes go by before you slowly open the door, making Taehyung fall backwards as he reaches out to right himself. You gasp in shock, not realizing he was right there. When he falls through the doorway, you get down on your knees, towel wrapped tightly around your body as you make sure he’s okay. “Tae! Are you okay?”

Taehyung sighs as he lays flat on his back in the doorway of the bathroom. “Why are you asking me that? I should be the one asking you.”

Your face falls again at the reminder that he thought you were too caring, too happy, too positive. You spent the entirety of your bath talking yourself into not being so upbeat and chipper around him. To not be so caring and to back off him a little bit. That’s what he wanted, right? He could see the gears turning in your head, so he sits up, leaning back on the palms of his hands.

“YN, I love you,” he says softly, making you look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“I know, Tae,” you say flatly. You didn’t think just because of a silly argument that he didn’t love you. You weren’t that insecure. You just truly didn’t want him to feel suffocated, and obviously that’s how he’s been feeling if he felt the need to blow up like that.

“No, YN. You’re too understanding,” he mentally slaps himself, “no, no. That’s not what I meant. Fuck.”

“I get it Tae, I’m suffocating you. I’m sorry, I will try to back off a little bit. I can do better.” You sit back on the heels of your feet and lean against the door frame, staring into his dark orbs.

“Oh, princess,” he whispers, sitting up straighter and reaching a hand out to rest on your thigh, “no you aren’t suffocating me. Not at all. I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way.” The look on his face is so sullen, so remorseful that you can feel just how sorry he is from looking into his eyes. “You are the sunshine that lights up my day, the only person who really gets me. You are the sweetest, kindest, most caring human being on the face of this planet, and I’ve never met someone as empathetic as you are. You are literally perfect, and I am so fucking sorry,” his voice cracks a bit as a tear rolls down your cheek at his words, “that I made you think you weren’t. I’m the shittiest partner ever for doing so, and I will spend the rest of my life making you feel wanted and as special as you deserve to feel.”

You’re full blown crying now when you lunge yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck. Sobbing into his shoulder, you nod your head against him. “I love you Tae,” you whimper, “it’s just a silly fight, right?”

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around you bare back, still slightly sticky from your bath, “No it’s more than that.” He feels you stiffen in his hold, so he starts to soothingly rub his large hand up and down your spine, “This is me realizing how fucking perfect I have it and making sure I never do anything to fuck this up. Never do anything to dim your light, because you are the brightest star in my eyes.”

You pull back to slap a hand lightly against his chest, smiling down at him still sitting on the floor. “Stop being so cheesy,” you mumble. He smiles at you before abruptly standing and picking you up bridal style, making you squeal. “Tae!”

“Mmm,” he moans into your ear as he tosses you on the bed and climbs on top of you, “let me show you what I mean, hmm?”

Jungkook didn’t waste any time running out your apartment door and chasing after you. He had only been gone for a minute or two, there’s no way you could have gotten far. As he walks down the street near your apartment, he calls your phone at least a dozen times, all of them going straight to voicemail. Your phone must be dead.

“Fuck,” shoving his phone back in his pocket. When he looks back up at the sidewalk ahead of him, he realizes he’s near your favorite cafe, the one with the cute Japanese trinkets for decor. Deciding to check to see if you’re there, he makes his way down the street. When he arrives at the cafe, he looks in the large glass window at the customers sitting around the restaurant, but doesn’t see you anywhere. Heaving a sigh, he turns around trying to rack his brain for other places you might’ve gone, when he sees a familiar figure sitting across the street at a bus stop. Squinting his eyes, he sees your sulking form, curled in on yourself.

Without thinking, he rushes to cross the street, only remembering at the last second to look both ways and halting his movements when he hears a car horn honking at him. Clutching at his chest, he backs up and allows the cars to pass before he’s running across the street towards you.

When he looks back to you, you’re already standing, a bewildered look on your face.

“Jungkook, are you crazy!?” you yell as he steps up on the curb in front of you.

“YN-” he pants, trying to catch his breath. His adrenaline was pumping now, but he was also relieved to find you okay. “YN, I -”

“Jungkook!” you cut him off, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

It takes him a moment to realize what you’re talking about, but once he catches on a blush overtakes his face and he has the decency to look sheepish. You were actually a little angry at him for being so careless, but then you think back to the argument the two of you just had, and your anger dissipates into sadness again. Jungkook sees the moment your face falls and reaches out to take your hand in his. When you wince and jerk your hand back, he feels another pang of regret in his chest, realizing you actually were hurt and he let you run out of the apartment without helping you at all. He was such a shit boyfriend.

Jungkook huffs a breath through his nose as he reaches out carefully, palm up, silently asking for your hand. You oblige reluctantly, knowing he’s trying to help, and place your hand, palm up in his hand.

“YN, I am so sorry,” he starts, moving closer to you to get a better look at your still bleeding finger,”I’m mad at something Namjoon-hyung and I fought about earlier, and my dumbass took it all out on you. I’m a fucking asshole.” He pulls your hand closer to his face as he talks, inspecting the cut. He saw it earlier, but it only looked like a papercut then. Now that it had bled a little more, he could see it was fairly deep, maybe even deep enough to need a stitch or two. Sighing, he closes his eyes to collect himself before he speaks his next words. “Why are you at the bus stop?” He knows the answer, and braces himself for the impact.

“I- I figured I should probably go to the hospital,” you nibble on your bottom lip, unsure why you felt bad for saying what you had to say, “I didn’t think you’d want to drive me.”

His heart breaks. He moves closer to you, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head. “Oh, YN,” he whispers, remorse dripping in his tone, “I can’t believe I did that. I will always, always be here to help you. I don’t want you to ever feel like I wouldn’t.” He can feel tears stinging the backs of his eyes as he runs a soothing hand up and down your back.

“I just thought since, you know…” you trail off, letting more tears fall down your face.

“I know, I was an asshole,” he starts, pulling away to look down at you, “let me take you to get that looked at, and we can talk about it on the way, okay? I’m so sorry, YN. I don’t want you to forgive me yet, I don’t deserve it. Just let me make sure you’re okay, first.”

You look up at him, unshed tears welling in his eyes when you nod your head. “Okay,” you whisper, letting him take your uninjured hand in his and walk the couple blocks back towards your apartment. You knew what he did was wrong, but you also knew that he loved you. You loved him, too. Regardless of the fights you may have, and the tough times you experience, you know you will always fight for one another. You look up at him through misty eyes while you walk, he looks back at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A silent exchange letting each other know it would be okay.

#bts angst #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook angst #taehyung smut #yoongi x reader #cypherwritersnet

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bucketslutz · 4 years ago

Text

Godspeed

Summary: You've been working as Marcus Moreno's assistant for years, but during all this time you've also been hopelessly in love with him. You're unsure if he feels the same way, but as of late you've been catching him stare at you. He's said things that have seemed to have an ulterior definition and it's made you suspicious of his feelings. When a pipe bursts in your apartment, leaving your home unlivable while it's being renovated, Marcus invites you to stay with him and Missy till it's fixed. Will you fold and finally confess your feelings for him?

You can read Godspeed on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, Marcus takes reader’s v-card, fluff, domestic-ish, AFAB reader, bisexual reader.

If Marcus was good at one thing, it was making your job a million times harder than it needed to be. He didn’t do it on purpose, he just tended to be more forgetful than you’d expected someone of his reputation to be. Whether it’d be meetings with the Heroics, grocery shopping, or even Missy’s parent teacher conferences, everything always managed to slip his mind. You suppose it is your job to keep track of all these things for him, remind him, and make sure he stays on top of all of his responsibilities. When he hired you, you were still a junior in college and his wife had passed away only a year prior. You didn’t expect that you’d be using your BA in international relations to be babysitting a grown man, but you don’t mind. He pays you substantially and he’s taught you so much over the years. You’re thankful that he even considered you for the job, the leader of the Heroics, when you’re far from interesting yourself. But he’s always been so kind and patient with you. Your first day you were fumbling over everything; you spilled coffee on his white button up, you accidentally packed Missy a peanut butter sandwich in her school lunch when she has a severe peanut allergy (luckily Marcus had glanced inside the unzipped lunchbox and swiftly threw it away), and you forgot to go grocery shopping that day. You hid inside the half bath off of the living room and cried from the stress, feeling like an absolute and complete fuck-up. Marcus knocked ever-so-gently on the door and you choked out a measly “I’m fine. Be out soon,” as a response. He didn’t buy it, obviously as he heard your sniffling from down the hall, and opened the door with a concerned look on his face. You were sitting on the floor, absolutely spent from the emotionally exhausting day. He got down with you and comforted you, talked you down from the breakdown and explained that he knew his schedule will take some time to get used to, but you’re a capable and strong individual who will catch on quickly.

“Cariña, I’m not disappointed in you. Mistakes will happen, you’ve gotta break a few eggs sometimes to make an omelette,” he told you with a wink, which caused you to snort at his very dad-ish remark; at that point, you had already forgotten about all the things you screwed up that day and was ready to start fresh tomorrow. And he was right, you caught on quickly. He’d begun saying a million times how life has seemed to have gotten easier since you entered it. You could’ve sworn there was a glint of something behind his eyes when he’d say it, maybe admiration, respect, perhaps even love. But you’d brush it off with a modest smile, trying to soften the weight of his words by saying you’re just doing what you’re being paid to do. He’d shake his head, trying his best to make you understand how much you’ve impacted his life. But you’re not used to someone insisting you deserve more respect than you give yourself, and Marcus showers you in praise every single day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the compliments flattering, especially coming from someone like him. You’ve always found him very attractive, even before you started working for him. A lot of your friends in college would tease you about it, not finding him nearly as charismatic as Miracle Guy, but you stuck to your guns. You’d hoped that when you met him you wouldn’t be disappointed, praying that he was just as kind in person as he appeared to be on the news. But now that you know him, he’s more than kind...he’s considerate, caring, patient, and a wonderful father. You’re beyond lucky to have met someone like him. He’s changed your life for the better, and you’ll never stop being grateful for his generosity. He makes it too easy to fall in love with him; his warm smile, chocolate brown eyes, his dad jokes. You even love the parts of him that wouldn’t necessarily be that interesting to anyone else, yet they are to you; the way he eats sandwiches by nibbling all the crust off of the sides then working his way to the middle in a circular pattern, or the way he hates to make his bed because he’s “just going to get back in it at the end of the day anyways,” or how he sometimes takes a minute to get a joke in a movie or TV show and will laugh for way longer than he needs to. You’ve been hopelessly in love with him for years now, and it’s made your job uncomfortable from time to time.

Once he started going back in the field, he’d come back to his house in immense pain every day. And for a little while, you just gave him some advil and a heating pad to leave him to his devices. But the pain and discomfort got worse, and he suggested a massage would relieve the pain. Which of course it would, and you should have no problem doing that for him. He wasn’t even necessarily asking you, he just said that a massage would feel better and he should go get one. But you still took it upon yourself to give him one anyways, perhaps as an excuse to touch him, but you care about him and you wanted him to feel better. He protested, of course, not wanting to inconvenience you, but he ultimately succumbed when you straddled his back and began rubbing his sore muscles. You did everything in your power to not seem as turned on by his groans of pleasure as you were; trying to hide the way your breath hitched when he choked out a “Yes, right there. Perfect,” between his shallow grunts. He had you in the palm of his hand, and he didn’t even know it. Your best friend has been telling you to make a move for months, but you’re too shy, and you’re not even sure if he feels the same way. He could very well want all of his assistants to stay for dinner, or movie night, or offer to let you stay in the guest bedroom when a pipe burst in your apartment leaking water all over your living room. You didn’t want to accept at first, feeling like you’d be overstepping, but Marcus insisted. He said he and Missy didn’t mind, especially considering you were way better at cooking meals than he was. You finally accepted the offer, figuring it’d also be way easier to work when you’re in closer quarters. You’d be cutting out commute time, and you wouldn’t have to get up so early to get there in time to make breakfast before Missy leaves for school. And you do love sleeping. So you accepted, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you’ll confess your love for him while you’re staying over; so long as you stay away from the alcohol.

You knock gently on Marcus’ bedroom door and call out his name softly, coffee cup and newspaper in hand. You hear a muffled groan in response, and take that as your cue to enter. Cracking the door open, you see him laying on his stomach tangled up in his sheets with a pillow covering his head. He hated mornings.

“Marcus, it’s time to get up. You have a meeting this morning,” you coo as you enter his bedroom. He rolls over and pulls his head out from under his pillow, sporting the worst bedhead you’ve seen on him yet; you bite back a laugh.

“It’s early,” he grumbles, obviously very groggy from his slumber. You settle on the edge of the bed, offering him the cup of coffee to which he sits up and takes the mug from you eagerly.

“You didn’t see me complaining about the hour when I had to get up at 4 am and bust my ass here every morning, just so I could make breakfast for you and your daughter,” you snide playfully. You don’t resent him for that, and he knows that. He works hard and has a lot on his plate, and he knows you understand that. But it’s become almost like a running joke between the two of you that he can’t complain because “you have it harder.”

“Touché,” he says, pausing to say your name, “Touché.” He takes a few sips of his coffee and holds his hand out for the newspaper, which you then hand to him. He takes a quick sip, contentedly. “Mm, why is it whenever I make coffee it takes like dirty socks, but when you do it, it tastes like heaven. Are you hiding a fancy coffee maker here that I don’t know about?”

“Hm, don’t know. Maybe I’m magic,” you remark jovially, smiling warmly at him. His eyes lock onto yours for a moment and he returns the smile.

“Yeah, something about you sure is magic,” he says, that familiar glint of... something in his eyes. Then he gets up from under his covers and pats your leg with the newspaper as he exits his bedroom, leaving you feeling strange after that encounter. Not a bad strange, you just sensed there was an air of something hanging around him. You’ve been feeling that a lot with him for a while. He’s just said or done things that hinted at meaning more than what it was, but you’ve been trying to brush it off as you looking for something that wasn’t there. You stood up from his bed, tidying up his covers a little so they no longer looked like someone just rolled out of them. You shook your head at the sight of some of his dirty clothes scattered all over the floor and took it upon yourself to pick them up and toss them in his hamper for you to wash later this afternoon. Making your way downstairs, you can hear Marcus shuffling around in the kitchen, humming the chorus of Raspberry Beret by Prince. Another thing you loved about him, he was always humming something around the house, to Missy’s dismay, but you never got tired of it. It warmed your heart to see him so happy. While you didn’t know him before the passing of his wife, you could tell that it still brought him down sometimes when you first started working for him. He’d come home late from work, immediately go to the liquor cabinet, and lock himself in his office for the rest of the night. A year or so ago he finally went through her old things with you and got rid of a lot of stuff. He kept a lot of her belongings, mostly for Missy, but was finally ready to throw a lot of her things away. So the times when you hear him singing absentmindedly, it reminds you that he’s healing and it makes you happy to finally see that after so many years of grief. Entering the kitchen, you cross over to the island and finish plating Marcus’ and Missy’s pancakes; Marcus was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping on his coffee. You set his plate in front of him and he glances up at you, smiling brightly.

“Thanks, these look great. Do these have bananas in them?” he asks excitedly.

“Yep, of course,” you reply with a grin, running your hand over his shoulder before turning back to cross over to the island. You know full well his favorite breakfast is banana pancakes, so you make them for him whenever he has to get up extra early for meetings.

“You know me too well,” he teases, spreading a glob of softened butter on the top of his pancake. You hear footsteps descending the staircase rapidly and the appearance of Missy in the kitchen shortly thereafter, dressed and ready for school.

“Hi dad!” she greets her father, then you, and settles in her chair at the kitchen table. You set her plate of pancakes in front of her along with a small plate of bacon. Marcus glances at you, then the bacon, then back at you, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Why does she get bacon and I get fruit?” he whines, through a mouthful of pancake.

“Because you’re susceptible to heartburn, Missy is not,” you tell him, smacking his hand as he reaches for one of her slices. Missy sticks her tongue out at her father, teasing him as she munches on her bacon. “Quit your whining, Moreno. Fruit is good for you.”

“Outnumbered and outwitted,” he remarks dejectedly, poking at the fruit on his plate. You roll your eyes at his dramatics and finish plating your own breakfast, with extra pieces of the assorted fruits that you especially love. You catch Marcus’ gaze lingering on you for longer than what would be considered “a passing glance.” Once you lock eyes with him, he turns his head back to his newspaper immediately pretending he wasn’t just staring at you. Okay, you can safely say now that he’s officially been acting weird. You don’t have the energy nor the time right now to address his behavior, so you opt to join him and Missy at the table and silently finish your breakfast before you have to drive Missy to school.

…

These chores have been kicking your ass today. You were too preoccupied with the burst pipe in your apartment last week that you weren’t able to do the laundry, so now you’re gifted with two weeks worth of laundry to wash, dry, iron, fold, and put away. It’s almost the end of the work day and you just finished folding the last load. You huff as you haul the basket up the stairs and down the hall to Marcus’ bedroom. You hum absentmindedly as you put his clothes away, tuning out your surroundings as your music blasts through your earbuds. This is the only part of laundry you really like. Firstly, because it’s the easiest part, and secondly because you get to listen to your music in peace without anyone bothering you. Being in the house alone means you can scream/sing the lyrics to your favorite songs without Marcus or Missy making fun of you. Except you didn’t realize you weren’t home alone right now, because Marcus has been watching you, leaning against the threshold of his bedroom door. You stopped dead in your tracks and startled when you noticed his presence. Clutching your chest with your hand you laugh out of embarrassment.

“Marcus, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you ask, frustrated that he just completely ruined your vibe.

“I like hearing you sing. I’ve got my own concert right here in the comfort of my own home,” he half teases, half remarks flirtily at you. He’s staring you up and down, as if you were a sight for sore eyes in your ripped mom jeans and bleach dyed t-shirt. Your hair was lazily thrown up into a messy bun for convenience, some strands hanging around your face to frame it.

“Whatcha listening to?” he asks, crossing towards you.

“Um, Godspeed, by Frank Ocean. You wouldn’t know him, as his career exists post-Prince and Queen, grandpa,” you joke playfully. He shakes his head and rests his hands on his hips.

“Alright, indulge me then. I wanna listen.” Sighing, you oblige and pull your phone out of your pocket and tuck your earbuds away. You start the song over from the beginning and turn the volume all the way up as the song begins. Marcus stares off and listens intently, taking in the synthetic sounds that prelude the lyrics. Once Frank Ocean begins singing, a small smile appears on his face and he nods his head.

“I like that, reminds me of you,” he says sweetly, offering his hand out to you. You glare at it suspiciously, not really sure what he’s asking. “Dance with me.” A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you take his hand happily.

Marcus moves one of his hands to the small of your back while the other clutches yours. You bring your hand to his shoulder and begin swaying with him to the music, singing along to the lyrics softly. He’s staring deep into your eyes and trailing his hand up and down your back, leaving goosebumps wherever it goes. You’ve never felt more in love with him than in this moment. He’s content just swaying with you and staring into your soul. And this song reminds him of you. Because of what? Is this how he feels about you? There will be mountains you won’t move. Still I’ll always be there for you, how I do. He has always been there for you. He’s said he will a million times; when your dad died and your mom became estranged, he didn’t expect anything of you. All he did was text or call you ever-so-often to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. He was one of the only people who really made you feel cared for at that time. That’s when you fell in love with him. You realized that you wouldn’t have gotten through that without his support and care. He and Missy dropped off a gift bag of all of your favorite snacks and movies one night and they spent the evening with you watching movies. Missy fell asleep on your couch and you fell asleep leaning against Marcus’ chest. It was the best you’d slept since your father’s passing. The song ends, leaving you and Marcus swaying to silence, anticipating each other’s next move. Eventually you both stop swaying, your hands move up to lace around the back of his neck and his move to cradle the small of your back. His mouth keeps parting and he inhales sharply, as if he’s about to say something, but he’ll purse his lips, second-guessing himself. You don’t know how, but you know what he wants to say. You can feel it as you look into his eyes. You can feel it when you catch him staring at you. You can feel it every time he enters a room.

“Say it, Marcus,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. You stare at him desperately, you want, no--need to hear him say it. Because you both know how he feels. He just needs to say it. He stares at you lovingly, and brings one of his shaky hands up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. You inhale sharply at his touch, anticipating the words you’ve been wanting to hear him say for years.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, his voice dripping in his signature rasp, saying your name as if he was blessed by the gods themselves to have the ability to say it. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, cariña. I always have been, and I always will be.”

Your heart beats out of its chest by his admission, your stomach somersaulting and your skin ablaze. I love you, Marcus. Truly, deeply, I do. Your eyes begin to well up, not from sadness, or even joy, but from relief. After years of uncertainty, wonder, even frustration, you finally know how he feels about you. How he’s always felt. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off of your shoulders. You love him. You’ll shout it from the rooftops, if you have to. I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him. Tears begin sliding down your face as Marcus cups your cheek with the palm of his hand. You nuzzle into his touch, revelling in the way he so effortlessly cares for you.

“I love you, Marcus. I always have,” you finally confess, your voice shaky from the crying. You sniffle and let out a light laugh in relief. You finally said it, and so did he. His eyes look glassy, and he appears to be biting back tears. He smiles lovingly at you, clearing his throat to try and push down the lump that’s been forming. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, stroking your head with the pad of his thumb as he does so, and pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. He cradles the back of your head while his other hand wraps tightly around your back. Your arms hook under his, clutching his back eagerly.

“I love you too, cariña,” he whispers, his lips pressed atop your head. You close your eyes, revelling in his hold on you for a moment before you decide to pull away and look up into his eyes.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, your eyes searching his for the need you have to lock your lips with his. He doesn’t hesitate to dip his head and pinch your chin, tilting it up towards his face, and sealing his admission of love with a needy, gentle kiss. You sigh into the kiss, feeling sparks all throughout your body. He pulls you into his chest, your body now flush against his and your arms wrapping around his neck. He slides his tongue along your closed lips and you part them, welcoming his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues tangle, the both of you needily searching each other’s mouths. His hands begin roaming your body, sliding up and down your waist, toying with the hem of your top and grazing his fingers over the skin of your lower back. As if he was asking permission to slide his hands up your bare back. You nudge his arm lazily and he complies, sliding his hands up your spine leaving goosebumps in his wake. You gasp against his lips as his hands explore your back, pressing further into him as best as you can. He mumbles into the kiss, gripping your bare waist.

“Mm, Missy home?” he asks against your lips. You shake your head, of course he’d forgotten that she was staying over at a friend’s; you had to bust your ass this afternoon running errands and trying to drop her off in time.

“Friend’s house,” you tell him between kisses. He nods, tugging the fabric of your shirt up.

“Do you want me to take this off, honey?” he asks gently, his lips moving from yours to your cheek then your neck as he trails love bites up and down the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck.

“Yes, please,” you reply breathlessly. He slips your top over your head leaving you in your bra. Not wanting to be the only one shirtless, you bring your fingers up to his tie and loosen it before slipping it over his head, working impatiently on the buttons of his dress shirt. Soon you’re both shirtless, chests heaving as your lips lock together feverishly once again. He starts pushing you towards the bed till your calves meet it.

“Lay down--if-if that’s-if you’re okay with that, cariña,” Marcus says, trying his best to seem assertive, but in his heart he’s too gentle and caring to force you to do anything. You roll your eyes and spin him around, shoving him back onto the bed and climbing onto his lap. Supporting your weight by pressing your hands to his bare chest, you dip down to kiss him again. This time they were sloppy and needy, you wanted to savor every bit of him and memorize the way his lips melted into yours. The way his stubble poked your lip, the way his tongue glided across yours, the feeling of his breath against your face. His hands slide down to grip your ass, kneading it through your jeans. You grin into the kiss, enjoying his hands all over you and the way he’s possessively groping your ass.

“Take off my bra,” you command against his lips. He nods eagerly, his fingers fumbling with the straps of your bra before finally releasing the clasp at the back. You shrug off your bra and slip your arms out of the straps, the garment falling onto his bare chest. He chuckles once it plops onto him, he tosses it to the floor and smiles up at you giddily; he looks at you as if you just gave him the best thing you could have ever given him. You roll your eyes at his excitement.

“Why are you so excited? You never seen a pair of boobs before?” you tease, a blush creeping over his face as he realizes you’ve noticed the way he’s been ogling your chest.

“I just never thought you’d let me look at you like this,” he says, with a slightly somber tone. Did he really think you weren’t going to love him back? He must’ve been feeling the same way you have all these years; the yearning, the pining, and the pain of never really being sure if they loved you in return. But you were here now, on top of him in his bed without a shirt on. You grab his arms and pull him up towards you so he’s sitting up, while you remain straddling his lap. He strokes your face tenderly, taking every bit of you in. You turn your cheek into his touch and plant a chaste kiss against his palm, Marcus smiles at you in return. Your heart could not be full of any more love right now. The way he’s looking at you, touching you, kissing you...you’ve never felt this much love from anyone at once. You don’t think you’ve loved anyone like you’ve loved Marcus. Even though you haven’t really had a serious relationship since high school, a relationship that scared you away from love, but you still didn’t think that you’d let someone enter your heart again. Marcus proved to you from the beginning that he’d never hurt you, so you’ve always trusted him, which is something that you don’t like giving away so easily. Truth is, you’ve not even let a man look at you naked since you were a freshman in college; he was an asshole who took advantage of you and your body. And when you told him you weren’t ready to go all the way, as you’re still a virgin, he was fine with it...Till he decided to ghost you the next day. That made your experiences with men even more volatile. It left such a bad taste in your mouth that you never got around to actually having sex with a man. You got by in college with occasional hookups with women, but you always made sure to leave before they woke up, so as to avoid any festering feelings. Marcus got you to a point in your life where you could trust someone like him, finally. He’s treated you well, he’s loved you more than anyone ever has, he’s taken his time with you by being ever-so-patient. And he will always be your rock no matter what.

“Marcus, I want you to see the rest of me,” you whisper, holding his face in your hands. He smiles warmly at you, his coffee-colored eyes holding every ounce of your pain you’ve allowed him to hear and see. He obliges immediately, stripping you of the rest of your clothes, stroking your exposed skin with his feather-like touch. He’s gentle, loving, caressing your skin like you might crumble under his fingertips if he applies too much pressure. You straddle his clothed lap now completely naked, your slick lips gliding over the rough fabric of his jeans as his erection applies intoxicating pressure against the length of your cunt. Your lips are tangled together hungrily, but he kisses you slow and sensually as he searches your lips with his own, his tongue sliding inside your mouth.

“Let me see the rest of you too,” you whisper against his mouth, your fingers dipping down to his belt buckle as you pry it open. He nods his head and aids you in taking off his pants till he’s now clad in his black briefs. He groans as you palm his erection through his briefs, feeling his dick twitch under your touch as you glide your fingers up and down its tense length. He gasps into the kiss, sensitive and responsive to your hold on his cock. You tug on the elastic of his briefs and yank them down, Marcus adjusts so you can pull them down his legs more easily. His dick springs free, dripping with pre cum and twitching with need. Your pelvis settles firmly against his, Marcus’ cock sliding between your pussy lips and nudging your clit gently. You whimper against his lips as each thrust of his hips results in the head of his dick flicking your sensitive nub. Your clit aches for more friction, needing his fingers in your pussy and for him to stroke you. You grip his wrist and bring it between your legs, urging them into your dripping core.

“You want me to touch you, cariña?” Marcus grunts into your ear, his fingers tracing your entrance. His hot breath tickles your ear and makes your pussy clench with need.

“Marcus, my clit--please, baby,” you whimper against his neck. You thrust against his fingers, attempting to force them inside you, but he avoids your advances. He finally slides his finger up through your lips and to your clit, flicking the aching, swollen bud. You gasp, throwing your head back in pleasure as Marcus strokes you. He pulls his hand away and brings it to your mouth, prying your lips open with his finger, urging you to lubricate it. You swirl your tongue around his digit, then he pulls it out and brings it back to rubbing your clit. The pleasure builds inside of you, your breath hitching with each flick of his finger. You’re getting close to the edge, desperate for Marcus to let you cum; his lips trail up and down your neck, lazily licking and nipping at the skin there. He replaces his middle finger with his thumb and continues the pace of his strokes on your clit before sliding two fingers inside of you. The fullness causing you to mewl in his ear as you begin riding his fingers. Your climax builds as your pussy clenches around his fingers that are working in and out of you, curling with each thrust inside of you. The flicks against your swollen bud, your hips rolling into his fingers, his lips on your neck...the way Marcus is working your cunt right now is pushing you close to the edge. Your toes start curling and your pussy clenches around his fingers, causing Marcus to groan at your tightness.

“That’s right, hermosa. I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum,” he groans in his signature rasp. His hot breath sticks to your neck as the pressure inside of you builds. Shutting your eyes and moaning a slew of curses, you begin to see spots as your pelvis tingles and your cunt clenches hard around Marcus’ fingers. His fingers climb up to your scalp and he tugs your head back by your hair, pulling it away from where it was resting in the crook of his neck. You lazily part your eyes open through your climax, finding Marcus staring at you through his lustful brown eyes. His digits work you through the rest of your orgasm, relishing in the way he’s staring at you; your jaw slack, whimpering and moaning, your hands clutching his broad shoulders.

“You’re beautiful, my love,” he breathes, stroking the stray strands of hair out of your face. You smile lazily at him, panting as you come down from your climax. His dick twitches against your thigh as he pulls his fingers from your soaked pussy. He offers them to you and you part your mouth, welcoming his cum soaked digits into your mouth; sucking the evidence of your arousal from his fingers. He watches you, your lips sealed around his fingers and your eyes dark with lust. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and lightly grazes your jaw with his saliva soaked fingertips.

“I want you to fuck me, Marcus,” you tell him hungrily, still breathless from your orgasm. He nods eagerly and grips your hips, trying to position you above his cock. You resist his grasp, and he glances up at you confused.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” he asks, his tone dripping with concern as he cradles your cheek with one of his hands.

“Nothing, I’ve just--I haven’t really...I guess I’m--,” you pause to sigh. “I’m still--technically--a virgin.” You swallow hard, unable to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed by your admission. It’s stupid to feel embarrassed, especially in front of Marcus who would never judge you for something like that. He stares at you comfortingly, not an ounce of condescension in his eyes.

“Okay, honey, let me take care of you,” he says tenderly, flipping you on your back so now he’s hovering over you. “Do you want this?” He holds you gently, wanting you as comfortable as possible and trying desperately not to pressure you into anything.

“Yes, Marcus. I want you. I trust you,” you affirm, your fingers dancing over the stubble on his cheek, desperately wanting more of him. Trust has always been hard for you. This was more than just letting him take your virginity, it was letting him into your heart completely and earnestly; it was the first time in years you’ve let someone love, touch, and look at you like this. And you wouldn’t want anyone else to be here fucking you except for Marcus. He grins at you warmly, his eyes so full of love and want.

“I love you,” Marcus says your name, planting a longing kiss on your forehead and nuzzling his cheek against your cheek.

“I love you, too, Marcus,” you say, feeling all his love for you by simply looking into his eyes. He smiles and plants kisses along your jawline and throat, nipping at the flesh. He reaches into the drawer in his bedside table and pulls out a condom. He tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. Marcus positions himself at your entrance, your legs wrapping around his waist in anticipation.

“You okay?” he asks nervously, he seems more anxious than you even are and it’s absolutely adorable.

“Marcus, sweetheart, I’m fine,” you giggle, your hands cradling the sides of his head. “Please, I want this. I’ve wanted this for forever. Fuck me, please.” He nods, planting kisses on your forehead, and his dick prods your slick entrance. Marcus sinks the head of his cock into you and hisses at the tightness of your pussy. You mewl as he stretches you open slowly, your arms wrapping around his neck and your bare chest pressing into his. He slowly buries his length into you, his cock twitching inside of you and he revels in the tightness of your cunt. You gasp once he’s sheathed inside of you, your pussy stretched wide open for him and only him. Your clit aches for more friction, and you desperately need him to move inside of you.

“You good?” he groans through gritted teeth, his lips hovering above yours as your breaths mingles together.

“Marcus, baby, move please--fuck,” you gasp, gripping his shoulder tight. He doesn’t hesitate to begin pulling out slowly, and moving back inside your aching pussy. His thrusts are slow and gentle, trying to get you used to his length before he picks up the pace. He wants this to be as enjoyable for you as possible and he’s only able to do so by starting out painstakingly slow. After a few more slow, languid thrusts, he gauges a slightly quickened pace. You moan, locking his lips with yours, and sloppily kiss him as you begin to try and thrust against him, searching for a rhythm. Your hips rock with his, his thick cock gliding in and out of your pussy, but your clit still craves more friction.

“My clit--shit, Marcus,” you hiss against his lips. He dips one of his fingers between your bodies and begins flicking your clit gently and expertly as he continues to fuck you. You gasp and whimper into the kiss as he keeps flicking the sensitive bud in rhythm with his thrusts. You bring his lower lip between your teeth and tug it gently, Marcus groaning before locking your lips again.

“Fuck--cariña, you’re so tight--so good--for me, shit,” Marcus growls into the kiss, his thrusts keeping pace but becoming harder. You moan, the pressure on your clit becoming almost too much for you as his cock stretches you wide and fills you each time he thrusts all the way into you. “Wanted you--wanted--I’ve dreamt about fucking this tight little pussy, cariña.”

The way he speaks to you makes your body run hot, his words burning into your skin and making you flush. You moan your affirmations, wanting to urge him on to keep going.

“Baby, keep going--keep talking,” you choke out between gasps and moans. Marcus continues his pace on your clit and with his thrusts, not faltering even once as he groans in pleasure.

“I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck the shit out of you. I--shit--wanted to eat your pussy out while you made breakfast; on my knees, my head between your thighs, licking your cunt like that’s what you were serving me,” he growls, dipping his head down briefly to lazily suck your nipple, switching between both breasts. “You--fuck--mija, you’re mine. You’re finally mine, I won’t lose you.” His hot breath tickles your breasts and he kisses his way back up to your lips locking them together again. His words were not possessive by any means, they were desperate, needing you to know how much it would hurt him if he were to lose someone else he loved the same way he lost his wife. The pressure he’s creating from the flicking of your clit partnered with his cock buried deep inside your pussy as it tickles your g-spot, becomes too much and before you know it you’re close. Your cunt clenches around his cock a few times, making Marcus groan into your mouth. You gasp and whimper, wanting to cum for him again; you want to come undone in front of him, show him just how much you’ve wanted to fuck him all these years. You roll your hips up into his, frantically searching for your orgasm as your thrusts begin to quicken and your pussy clenches around him once again.

“Marcus, I’m close,” you whimper into your sloppy kiss, clinging to his back and dragging your nails up and down the skin there.

“Cariña, cum for me. You look so sexy when you finish,” he whispers huskily against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusts harder into you again, the slapping of skin echoing throughout the room. Your body tenses underneath him, white spots clouding your vision as your cunt clenches around his dick, milking him. Your body tingles and you spasm against his bare chest, digging your nails further into his back. Marcus thrusts into you, hissing when you clench around his throbbing cock, as he rides out his climax. His groans and whimpers growing louder as he reaches his orgasm, then promptly quieting down once he begins to come down. You pant, your chest rising and falling as you also come down from your own climax. Marcus slumps next to you, his twitching length still sheathed inside of you as your legs tangle together. He grabs your chin and tilts your head towards him to kiss you, slowly and featherlike, wanting to savor your taste. You lay like that for a moment, your sweaty chests rising and falling together as you both try to catch your breath.

“I’m so in love with you,” Marcus says your name, draping his arm over your stomach and squeezing your waist gently. “And I will show you just how much I love you every day, mi amor,” He plants a kiss on your shoulder. “I’ll never let you forget it.” He kisses up and down the length of your neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to taste you.

“You’re my hero,” you giggle, turning on your side to face him while his dick still remains buried inside of you. He rolls his eyes playfully, having heard hundreds of different women say that very phrase over the course of his career, but it strikes something inside of him when he hears you say it. “You saved me. I love you.” You snuggle into his chest and pepper kisses along the sweaty skin there.

“I’ll always be here, cariña. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll catch you when you fall, like how you catch me when I do. I would be so lost without you, mi corazon,” he says tenderly, planting a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you tighter. He loosens his hold on you, and pulls his half-hardened cock out of your pussy. He disposes of the condom then pulls the sheets back over your bodies, bringing you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Marcus plants slow, languid kisses all over your face, wanting to make you feel all the love he holds for you. Your eyes droop shut, fatigue beginning to overcome your body as you’re trapped in Marcus’ arms. But this is a place you wouldn’t want to escape, no, you feel safe here. Marcus won’t let you go, and you wouldn’t let him go either. Marcus has your heart, and there’s no one else you’d trust to keep it. He’s your hero, after all. The hero who saved you with his love.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #afab reader #marcus moreno x afab reader #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #marcus moreno dilf #mutual pining #yearning #domestic fluff #marcus moreno takes your virginity #marcus moreno is caring af #marcus moreno marry me pls #miracle guy #godspeed by frank ocean

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thepencilnerd · 4 years ago

Text

Pasta and Dinner Parties

"Edamame," Theo says.

"The fuck did you just call me?" Blaise’s face contorted quicker than a shifting boggart.

Another eye roll. “The pasta, it’s made from edamame.” Theo pronounces it with a certain twinge of pomposity that would have Percy Weasley reeling. Too many syllables. Vowels too lengthy. “Type of soybean, I reckon.”

"IT'S NOT PASTA!" Blaise’s roar shook the walls of the foyer.

Pansy snorts into her mug. “I don’t know about you, but I think this dinner will go swimmingly.”

Draco and Hermione have reached a domestic milestone. They've finally decided to move in together. Draco invites her over for dinner, but what would a little Slytherin hospitality be without some sugar and spice?

Rated M for language and discussions of heavy topics in future chapters

Full fic + updates on AO3

"Luna sent a box of these over, wonderful isn't she?" If lovesick eyes had a picture to accompany the definition, Theodore Nott’s face would be front and center. In his left hand, he held an empty cardboard carton with a sticky note adhered to the front flap.

Simmer for 10 minutes with a sprig of rosemary and a teaspoon of salt. Keeps away the balfspracks.

Blaise rubs his eyes. It’s half-past five and he’s already had it with Theo. Had it. Patience wore down to the bone. Basta. Finite incantatem. In all honesty, he’d gladly throw himself in front of a flying—

A shorter figure crept up from behind. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she gives her boyfriend a peck on the cheek, which seems to loosen the wrinkles settling over his forehead.

"Ladies," Pansy jests, mediating the arguments between the two as always. "I'm sure there's more than enough pasta to go around."

"Not pasta," Blaise muttered. He tried to concentrate on the lingering warmth Pansy’s lips left on his face. The poor bloke sounded like he was about to hurl.

At this, Theo rolled his eyes and waved dismissively. “Yes, yes, yes, you can flaunt your Italian heritage some other time, now let me work my culinary magic!”

Blaise takes a deep breath. High blood pressure, he remembered Pansy saying. Need to stay calm. "Mate, I love you, I really do, but if you don't tell me what those green things swimming about in my favorite crockpot are, you have another thing coming."

"You used a crockpot to boil pasta?" Pansy’s head popped up from behind Blaise’s shoulder. Her nose wrinkled like she’d caught a whiff of something foul.

“Not pasta.” Blaise was a broken record.

Draco groaned from the living room. The headache from earlier evolved into a full-blown migraine by the time lunch was over. His eyeballs were absolutely throbbing. He jammed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets as if it would relieve any of the aching. To no avail.

"Granger's coming over in half an hour and we’ve yet to transfigure a dining table." He verbalized his misery in as simple terms as he could. Sitting on the living room couch, he calculated the farthest distance from the kitchen and found himself just a few feet away. Problem with having a small flat. He couldn't find it in himself to raise his voice. Not with the demon baby currently going stir-crazy with a gavel in his skull.

He questioned his level of sobriety when he agreed to this.

Meeting Hermione Granger’s parents had been less stressful than this.

Introducing her to his mother was a Christmas tree full of Christmas presents compared to this.

Sitting in a train compartment with 2nd-year Hufflepuffs sounded more bearable than this.

Why, oh why, did he have to open his big mouth that night?

“Seems proper that I’d at least get to share dinner with them before we move in together,” Hermione shrugged. Her hair was still damp from her—their—shower. Stray curls escaped, framing the curves of her face. Draco loved how her sheets always smelled like her soap. The scent of her shampoo was reserved for the pillowcases.

“Come over for dinner,” he suggested. Quite impulsively, really. “Allow me to treat you to an evening of... Slytherin hospitality.” Draco’s trademark grin served him well. Resting on his side, Draco was propped up on one elbow with no shirt and sheet draped over his bottom half. She wanted to believe he was wearing briefs underneath. He looked absolutely wicked.

Hermione scowled tentatively but surrendered with a smile. Her chest rose before she let out a sigh. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I’d experienced an inkling of that before.” Mirth graced her tone.

The embers from the fireplace bounced off of her bare skin like rays of summer sun; warm and welcoming. Draco’s fingers fondled the strap of her bra, the only thing she was wearing, and earned a breathy giggle from her. Tugging the lace down, he sat up and started pressing a trail of kisses along her skin. Goosebumps erupted where his lips traced her flesh. The bath had stained her skin; she tasted of rosewater and honey.

Hermione let out a hmph and tried to focus on the book she was holding. She developed a knack for knowing when he craved attention. Whenever Draco came over, he turned into a literal child. Always nagging and begging for her every time he got the chance. If she wasn’t superglued to his side, Hermione would bet a million galleons he’d throw a fit.

“Turn around and face me instead. I don’t fancy being smothered by your hair while we sleep.”

“How do you turn on the stove?”

“Granger, help me fix the antenna!”

“Could you take a look at this spot on the back of my head? I might be balding.”

“Granger, I think I nicked myself on the aluminium.”

“If you weren’t wearing so many clothes, we’d probably warm up faster. Becoming a pair of popsicles isn’t exactly on my bucket list.”

This time around, his demands were very clear.

“Pay attention to me.”

Hermione’s eyes shot up from her book. Shock painted her features like a splash of cold water.

She blinks once. Twice. Three times for good measure. And then, her lips break into a blinding smile, pearly whites and all. The corners of her eyes curl into half-moons and her whole body shakes with glee.

Sweet Merlin, he was fucked.

Setting her book down on the nightstand, Hermione sits up straight and looks at Draco expectantly. He sits unmoved beside her. Staring. Admiring. Waiting. The cheeky grin that etches into her face is one Draco would give the world to see every day.

Draco leans back against the headboard and stretches his legs out towards the foot of the bed. Scooting closer to her, she flips her leg over his awaiting lap. She’s straddling him in the span of two seconds. The feel of her bare flesh against his is utter bliss.

Her arms wrap around his neck like a koala bear and her head nestles into the crook of his neck. Despite lathering him in her soap, he still smelled like Draco. All these years of dating and she still couldn’t put her finger on the bevy of aromas.

Draco mirrors her actions like a reflection, one and the same. His arms make her feel so incredibly small when encased in them. Like a bear cub. Or a kangaroo in a pouch. Maybe mammals would be an appropriate term to generalize how warm and safe she felt in his embrace, but it wasn’t the most attractive or poetic—

“I thought we finished showering earlier,” he sighs into her hair. “Why is there steam coming off your head?”

She blows a puff of air into his neck and he jolts at the sensation. Ticklish. Draco knew that secret would die with Hermione and she was honored to keep it. Unless it served her in times of duress.

“I was just thinking about how safe I am when I’m with you.” The tip of her nose brushes against the junction above his throat and feels his heartbeat, delicate but strong.

Da-dum.

Pulling back, he slides his left hand along her cheek and she leans into it like second nature. Hermione raises her right hand and cradles it over his. The way it pales in proportion almost makes him break into laughter. When she presses open-mouthed kisses down his bare wrist, Draco resists the urge to take her right then and there. It’s too perfect of a moment to ruin. Not tonight.

She’s even more tender when her lips reach his scar. The marred flesh that takes him back to his inescapable past. A reminder of everything wrong he’s been taught since childhood; everything bad in this world; everything wrong he’s done throughout his entire life.

But more importantly, it’s a symbol of how much good was left in this dismal world.

It’s a battle scar that reminds him that he lived.

Something that motivates him to keep trying.

A reminder of how despite being swallowed by the darkness that plagued the world, he chose to hold onto light.

A reminder of how above everything, he chose Hermione and Hermione chose him.

He takes a moment to look at her, really look at her, and melts.

Hermione is a vision actualized. He sees the dreams and aspirations swirl about her irises in flickers. Roaming freely and always there when you needed them. He wants to bask in them. Relish in them. In her. For as long as she’ll keep him, no matter how infinitely small or finitely large. He’d burn through galaxies if it meant seeing her happy and safe. Anything and everything he could provide for her was his to offer. She need only ask.

Draco Malfoy was wholly and irrevocably head over heels for Hermione Granger.

Magic and might, save him.

No really, save him.

What the bloody hell was that infernal yapping?

"I, for one, thought it would be better to go to an Italian restaurant, but Blaise here," Theo quipped. “—wanted to dish out his non-existent cooking skills,” He paused to stir the pot. “At least Luna was kind enough to—”

Blaise stomped his foot on the kitchen tiles. Miracle they hadn’t cracked yet. There was no point in trying to hide his tantrum. “Just because my ancestors were Italian doesn’t mean I’m a master chef!” He narrows his eyes. “Honestly Theo—” The words die in his throat when Theo fishes out a noodle from the pot. Maybe it’s just his eyes playing tricks on him but he swears it flipping wiggles. “What in Merlin’s great magical kingdom is that abomination and why the ever-loving fuck is it green?”

Pansy gave his cheek a pat. “Colorful, Blaise. Truly”

"Edamame," Theo says.

"The fuck did you just call me?" Blaise’s face contorted quicker than a shifting boggart.

"IT'S NOT PASTA!" Blaise’s roar shook the walls of the foyer.

Pansy snorts into her mug. “I don’t know about you, but I think this dinner will go swimmingly.”

A crash echoes from the kitchen and Theo lets out a screech that rivals grindylows.

Pansy takes a long, calm sip. Likely pumpkin juice. Draco wouldn’t be surprised if it were laced with some pre-appetizer spirits. How she managed to deal with Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum was beyond him. Hell, he needed some right about now. At least to dial down the nerves. Not to mention the spike in blood pressure provoked by his flatmates.

The remaining minutes pass like clockwork and before he knows it, the front door dings. Never has a bell sounded more menacing than now. Why is he so nervous? She’s met them a few times before and they’ve definitely shared rounds of drinks. No doubt, gone to Diagon Alley with Parkinson, Lovegood, and Weasley. The tolerable one.

Did he clean his room?

Theo promised to dust right after tea but the bloke was delusional about everything except Lovegood. A bit poetic, not that Draco ever cared to admit it.

Pansy and Blaise stopped by the market yesterday and restocked the pantries and fridge.

And then Luna dropped off her bag of goodies this morning.

“She’s early.” Theo stuck his head out from the kitchen. Why was he covered in flour?

So many questions. Draco didn’t even care to know the answers to half of them.

“She’s always early when she’s excited.”

The three stooges stand shell shocked and stare at Pansy. They just stare.

She blinks like an owl and shakes her head. “Honestly, are you three just going to stand there or is someone’s boyfriend going to get the door?”

Draco’s brain registers the words too late for his liking. He’s dead sober but his brain is all fuzzy. Just as she’s about to knock for a second round, Draco’s feet propel him to the door so fast a whip of apparition cracks.

The door clicks open to reveal a dazzling frame. Hermione Granger is, to say the least, an unreal figment of everything good in the world. War heroine, member of the Order of the Phoenix, magical, academic, and practical genius, pure in mind and soul, and his girlfriend. His girlfriend. His. Donning a pair of black leggings and a flowing cream blouse, she’s bundled in a beige trench coat and blush pink scarf. Dark mahogany brown ankle boots boost her height by a few centimeters. Draco still overshadows her by a good head or two. Nevertheless, it’s a thoughtful effort. She’s holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine.

“Hello��woah!’

Draco’s arms are around her instantly and she’s brought into the house. His broad shoulders envelop her into a cloaked embrace that lets his scent wash over her. He never wants to let go.

Initially surprised at the abrupt shift in balance, Hermione relaxes into his hold within seconds. He still smells like her soap and Draco and… smoking?

“Blaise!” a female voice shrieks. “Don’t just stand there Theo, do something!”

A cloud of smoke—contained by a bubble charm, thanks to Pansy—swirls above the stovetop, large and foreboding. The source? A deep green crockpot placed on one of the burners.

Wait. Why is a crockpot on the burner? Hermione wonders.

“I told you we needed to salt the water and add the rosemary! Now you’ve got balfspracks all over the bloody place!” Theo’s voice changed from panic to mockery. He turned his nose upright and growled in a nasal tone. “‘Oh, salt is acceptable, but rosemary? Unacceptable. A disgrace to all cuisine Italian. May as well—’”

Draco pinches the bridge of his nose. By the end of the day, he’d probably have to ask Hermione to heal his bruises. “Bloody hell…”

“Oh, it’s my fault now, is it?” Hermione realizes Blaise’s name suits him very well. Almost too well. In any other life, he might have been sorted into Gryffindor with that fiery temperament. “Next time we have a guest over, we’re ordering take-out. From Hogsmeade!”

“Someone help me get rid of this burnt pot of—whatever the hell pasta Theo was making,” Pansy gags while trying to contain the swelling bubble. The scent is overwhelming. Something between seaweed and polyjuice. Perhaps a vile mixture of the two.

“EDAMAME!”

“NOT PASTA!”

Draco can’t tell whether he wants to burst into laughter or cry. Maybe he’ll do both. Hermione was there to wipe away the snot or tears, regardless of whichever it would end up being.

Giving him a chase kiss, Hermione placed the gifts in his hands and made her way to the lounge. Draco was going to kill them. He was going to kill them dead.

She pulled out her want and raised it towards the giant orb of smoke, confidence igniting her eyes. Her wand moved as if it were on its own, guided purely by magic and intent with an undeniable essence of Granger. She draws a broad circle that covers the entire room and summons the wisps of smoke like a magnet. The ashy tendrils of burnt food claw their way out of the floorboards and ceiling cracks, latching on for as long as they can before they’re drawn out Aiming towards the ajar door, the coils of smoke and singe are thrown out the entrance with a deafening gust.

A single strand of hair falls out of her ponytail.

She blows it out of her eyes with a single, deliberate puff.

The corner of her lip quirks upwards the slightest.

It’s so fast you’d miss it if you blinked.

If Draco wasn’t so overcome with the urge to skin his friends, he’d dive in there right now and kiss her numb.

The flat has returned to an atmosphere of calm.

“Fucking finally,” Draco mutters out loud. Not intentionally but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

Pansy, Theo, and Blaise resemble owls; wide eyes, unmoving bodies, twitching necks that swivel side to side.

Theo breaks the silence with something along the lines of a chortle. “Welcome to our humble abode, Granger.”

“Pleasure to have you here,” Blaise adds. His hands are still clenched around Theo’s shirt collar.

Pansy is still trying to catch her breath having inhaled a hefty amount of the fumes. Blaise and Theo had probably tumbled around the living room enough to avoid the thick of it. Still, she refuses to let it impede on her hostess abilities.

“Hermione!” Pansy coughs. “Why don’t you and Draco check out upstairs while—” she pauses to glare daggers at the two boys covered in God knows what, “—we deal with the mess down here.”

Hermione draws out the excess smoke from Pansy’s clothes and hair with a swish of her wand. The next thing she does makes the three boys’ jaws unhinge. They bring each other into a warm hug and laughter rings in the air.

“It’s good to see you too, Pans,” Hermione breathes. Draco was definitely going to have a fit over this later.

Hermione gives Theo and Blaise a shy wave. Hopefully, they’d understand. In any other instance, she’d be more than happy to rid their clothes of the stench. They wouldn’t even have to ask. But this was Pansy Parkinson and if Hermione knew Pansy Parkinson, she knew that the Slytherin would want to drag on punishment as long as possible before even thinking of succumbing to forgiveness.

Hermione Granger’s stubbornness coupled with her Gryffindor loyalty?

She’ll be damned if she lets either waver when surrounded by friends.

Draco clears his throat forcefully and offers his arm. “Upstairs then, shall we?”

Hermione loops her arm through his and grins. It’s contagious and Draco already feels his anger ebb into affection.

She speaks almost as lightheartedly as the wand movement for a levitation charm. "We shall."

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione imagine #draco x hermione #theo nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #dramione fanfic #incorrect dramione quotes #hermione x draco #post wizarding war #crack fic #dramione headcanon #harry potter #hp quotes

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herzlak · 3 years ago

Text

my boerne x alberich headcanons:

boerne getting down on his knees to let alberich help him into his jacket has become a habit

they once got drunk together and it ended in a night full of weird confessions, afterwards no one would say a word about it

they discuss everything when during and autopsy and when i say everything i mean EVERYTHING

they'd talk about a movie or play they saw, about their colleagues' love affairs, that one vacation they never go on, a new restaurant in town, the neighbour's cat, anything really

rumor has it they never go on vacation because they can't stand to be without the other for more than two days

whenever she's away on a congress she always calls him in the evening to tell him about everything

they're always arguing about boerne's driving style

alberich knows what mood boerne is in telling from the music he's listening to

they stopped having their lunch at the cafeteria because, let's be honest, that food just ain't it

boerne occasionally mocks alberich for her endless affection towards all animals, but he actually thinks it's cute

they both know what perfume scent the other one likes on them, and that's the one they put on

alberich once tried a new perfume and boerne scowled at her for two days straight until she got back to her old one

she fancies wooden scents on him more than herbal ones

when they were in private, boerne was incredibly clingy after limbus happened

alberich made sure she was with boerne as much as possible during his recovery from the car accident

he's got a mug with "chef" on it, but alberich stole it

they both drink from each others' coffee cups

their coffee machine stopped working half a year ago, but he's too stingy to get a new one and always performs a ridiculous act on trying to get it to work

and, of course, alberich teases him about it all the time

sometimes, he calls her in the middle of the night just because he had a brainwave on their latest case

when alberich gets really mad, boerne is indeed a intimated by her

they both hate love songs, especially pop

yet they discuss every single newcomer they involuntarily listened to on the radio

alberich drinks tea in winter and boerne is grossed out by that

of all the things they talk about, talks about emotions and feelings always come up short

she knows about his depression, but never truly addresses him on it, never urges him to see a therapist

when it's real bad, she supports him with small gestures like making sure he drinks his morning coffee, goes out to catch some sun at lunchtime, she casually asks him if he's alright, and if he isn't... well, he gets a hug

he once mentioned his nightmares, she's able to tell when he went through one the next morning

she never had nightmares but limbus changed that, years later they'd still last

while alberich had always assumed that boerne has nightmares, it took him over a month to figure out she has some too

the penny dropped when she mentioned her childhood nightmares during es lebe der könig!, he noticed the tremor in her voice

they're both lousy liars, and also bad at keeping secrets, at least at keeping them from each other

communication via eye contact and body language is a big thing for them

alberich sometimes pulls our her phone to show boerne random pictures she's taken, it's usually the neighbour's cat sitting on her kitchen table or a newspaper article she wanted to show him

boerne often tries to subtly lean in to alberich, brush her arm or something, the thing is that everybody but him knows that he's not subtle at all

after die chinesische prinzessin, alberich had to literally coax him back to calling her "alberich", she wouldn't have him calling her "frau haller"

boerne still has his narcissistic moments, but overall he got softer throughout the years

she doesn't want him to change, just to try be a bit better sometimes

when it comes to alcohol, she's just as picky as he is, maybe even a bit more

they've got about twenty different menu cards lying around in boerne's office, yet always settle for the same three restaurant to get their food from when they don't have time for lunch break

for whatever reasons he keeps one of her hair ties in the pocket of his white coat

sometimes, he thinks, she knows him better than he knows himself and it both scares and comforts him

he broke around ten mugs already, she never broke a single one

alberich had boerne figured out within a year, being able to read him like an open book

it took boerne about ten years to even care about that, he still hasn't completely figured how to "read" her another ten years later

in his defence, she is very hard to read

he is, however, quite good at reading her facial expressions

when buying a new tie, he tends to pick one that matches one of alberich's blouses

it rarely happens, but sometimes, when alberich is busy and boerne is bored, he interrupts her to take a goofy selfie

bonus - relationship headcanons:

boerne is actually good at braiding, so sometimes he'd braid strands of her hair

he doesn't call her by her real name, "alberich" stays

she hasn't settled on a name for him, refusing to call him by his actual name or a nickname, it's just always "you"

she'd move in with him

they'd actually go on vacation once or twice a year

she'd convince him to get a rescue dog from a shelter

and they'd end up getting two because boerne happened to fall in love with another dog at the shelter

they watch whatever is on in tv, he eventually gets bored and falls asleep, she only wakes him when something happens which she knows he's interested in

they share the newspaper, she reads one half, he reads the other half, they tell each other about the part they've read

they both got this weird jam addiction where they try every favour they can lay their hands on, the fridge is full of jam

marriage was never really a thing they cared about

they usually cook together, especially when it comes to pasta

they're both incapable of baking... just lacking the talent

he always takes photos of her, on every occasion given, always

#tatort münster #boerne #alberich #boerne x alberich

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ladyofmaidensandwine · 4 years ago

Text

Just One Dance

Requested by @rileynicole1967

Request: “so maybe you could do a one shot for deanxreader based off the song “can I have this dance” from High School Musical. so basically dean doesn’t do the whole dancing thing and the reader finally gets him to dance with her and she helps him and it’s so fluffy”

Absolutely, luv! Side bar, I’ve never seen these movies, but I gave the song a listen. Hopefully this is just as fluffy as you were wanting!

Characters: Dean Winchester, Fem! Reader, Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Excessive fluff, implied smut without detail.

Wordcount: 2,852

There are some things a hunter doesn’t get, and a normal, carefree night on the town is one of them. At least, it usually is. This particular Saturday you have no monsters to kill, no wounds to mend, and no research demanding to be done, and you practically beg Sam and Dean to come with you to a local pub promising good music, food, and beer.

Maybe it’s slightly overdone, but you rarely have any occasion to dress so nicely, and as you look at your reflection, you have to smile. You admit to yourself you look beautiful, outfit the perfect color to compliment your complexion and your eyes, and comfortable so you have no qualms about dancing the night away, which you have every intention to do.

You open the door to your room in the bunker, right across from Dean’s, and hear a low whistle that causes your cheeks to heat slightly. “I feel underdressed, sweetheart. You look gorgeous.” Dean says with that easy, charming smile. The bastard has you positively whipped, and he doesn’t even know it. “Well, one of us has to look good.” You tease, brushing off the compliment in favour of poking fun at your best friend. He chuckles, rolling his eyes fondly. “Yeah, whatever. C’mon, let’s get Sammy’s ugly mug and hit the road before all the good parking is gone.” Dean beckons. The casual way he rests his hand on your back has your heart doing acrobatics, and you thank whatever God is listening for the years spent mastering your perfect poker face when you show no outward reaction.

You’re not a bird that hangs off the arm of the first handsome man she sees. In fact, you have a sense of pride in the way you don’t fall for charm or suave lines and you’ve never been the type to go for a one-night-stand just because someone buys you a drink and throws you a smirk. Dean Winchester is the only exception to your impervious shield- a simple smile from him has you feeling faint, and it’s not just his looks that have made you fall for him. Dean has been your friend and confidante. He knows things about you not another soul is privy to, and the same applies to you. He protects you, but doesn’t underestimate your skill and ability as a hunter. He’s your hero, and if you had a bit more gall, maybe you’d finally tell him that.

It’s a perfect night at the pub- not too crowded, but with enough background chatter to make an ambience like home. The first round is on you, as you’ve promised, and Dean watches you carefully as you head to the counter to order your drinks. Sam sits across from him, a smug and knowing smile on his face. “What?” Dean finally grumbles, raising a brow. Sam shrugs, but that grin only gets wider, Dean’s green eyes narrowing in annoyance. “It’s just funny,” Sam begins, fighting to maintain a nonchalant front while wanting to laugh at Dean, “you sitting here, watching her, Y/N standing there, looking back at you. Cute.” “Sam.” Dean says, tone sharp with a warning Sam promptly ignores. “Hey, if you have any plausible reasoning for me to believe you’re not smitten with her, now’s your chance to convince me.” Sam invites. Dean glowers at him from across the table, wishing you’d hurry up with those beers already, and Sam smirks, knowing he’s won. “That’s what I thought. Want my advice?” “Not really.” Dean mutters, rolling his eyes. God, where are you with the drinks, somebody save him. “Well, I’m gonna give it to you anyways. Stop being such a dumbass and go get your girl. At this point I won’t even complain if you snog her in front of me. Point is, Dean, you’ve got no rationale to not go after her.” Sam says pointedly. “I think you oughta just-”

“Hey, sorry I took so bloody long!” You call, hurrying over with four longnecks in your hands, and Dean shoots Sam a smirk. Perfect timing as usual, thank God. “S’alright. Didn’t miss much.” Dean shrugs, sliding over so you can sit next to him in the booth. “Oh, good. I put in some song requests- DJ says this place is great for dancing.” You inform, smiling brightly. Dean instantly shoots upright, cutting you a narrow-eyed look full of suspicion. “Dancing?” He repeats, already smelling a scheme as you give him an innocent smile. “Wouldn’t you know it, this pub happens to be known ‘round here for the music? Coincidence, of course.” You say slyly. Dean shakes his head, unable to maintain his glare so he hides the smile pulling at his lips by taking a swig of his cold beer. “Coincidence. Yeah, ok. Y/N, for someone who lies for a living, you’re pretty shit at it.” Dean smirks, and you laugh, knowing he’s teasing. “Alright, so maybe I had a slight ulterior motive when I said we should come here tonight, but I promise it’ll be fun!” You say pleadingly, turning to Sam for back up.

“Don’t look at me! You’re on your own.” Sam proclaims, holding up his hands in surrender as you huff. “Fine! But you’re both dancing with me. I’m not settling for a ‘no’.” You assert. Dean chuckles, giving you an amused smile. “You can think that if you want, sweetheart. I don’t dance.” He says firmly. “What do you mean? You dance with me to your bloody cassettes in the garage all the time!” You demand, raising your brows. Sam laughs, nearly snorting beer out of his nose, and Dean flushes up to his ears. “Dean dances with you?” “Sam!” Dean growls, thoroughly embarrassed. “Oh, come off it, it’s not a big deal, you baby.” You scowl playfully. “No, Y/N, Dean doesn’t dance, ever. Makes you awfully special, huh, Dean?” “Shut your mouth, Sam.” Dean snaps, glaring at his brother indignantly. You’re at a loss, looking between the two in confusion. “Look, Y/N, you’ll have to settle for the less good-looking Winchester tonight. I don’t dance, ‘specially not here.” Dean says with a shrug of his broad shoulders. You smile, a mischievous look in your eyes, and he knows you’re nowhere near dropping the subject.

Three beers later, you’re out on the dancefloor, laughing at Sam’s awkward moves. Dean’s smiling, eyes glued to you. It’s rare he see’s you this happy and carefree, and you look so beautiful in the low light of the bar. The power could go out and your smile would light up the whole place. He hates admitting it, but Sam makes a valid point. There’s nothing stopping Dean from telling you how he feels about you besides his own paranoia, and even that is n shaky grounds. He’s not entirely oblivious. Dean knows there’s some unspoken thing between the two of you, and knows you feel it, too. But letting it lie as is and pursuing something more are two totally opposing ideas, and he’s getting tired of his head and his heart pulling him in different directions over you.

You catch Dean’s eye, and leave Sam, grinning at Dean. “Come dance.” You say. He shakes his head, a small smile playing across his lips. “Told you, sweetheart. I don’t dance.” Dean claims, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the booth. He’s content where he is, just watching you, but you’re the most stubborn woman he’s ever met, and honestly, he should’ve known better because when do you ever take no for an answer? “Just one dance. Come on, even Sam is having fun.” You try to persuade him, Dean’s eyes flicking to his brother and back to you. “Y/N.” “Dean.” You mimic. You stare him down, eyes narrowed slightly. Dean almost laughs- he’s seen this face before, your shoulders back and spine tall. It’s the posture of a hunter, the determined face you make when you’re dealing with police giving you a hard time or a monster making threats. Now you’re using against your best friend to try and convince him to dance with you. “Please.” You pout, and he sighs. God, why are you so hard to say no to?

It’s a silly question because he knows exactly why you could ask for the moon wrapped in a bow and by God, he’d figure out how to give it to you because you have Dean Winchester completely at your mercy. “Dean, please, just one dance! That’s all I’m asking.” You practically beg, and he can feel himself breaking. “Sweetheart, I really don’t dance, not for anybody.” Dean tries. “Not even for me?” You ask him. Damn it. Damn you to hell, you’re good. That’s his weakness, you’re his weakness, and you’re using it to play him like a fiddle. Dean closes his eyes and his shoulders slump, and when he looks at you again, you’re beaming like you won the grand prize because you know you’ve got him. “One dance. Got it? Just one. And- and don’t expect no fancy shit, or nothin’.” He huffs, trying to maintain his grumpy facade. He doesn’t last a second because your mile-wide smile is even bigger as you take him by the hands and half-lead half-drag Dean onto the dancefloor.

Dean’s nervous as all-get-out. When was the last time he’s ever really danced, much less in front of people? “Just take my hand, Dean. C’mon, you killed three vampires just the other day and you’re telling me you’re nervous now?” You say, teasing him gently. “Yeah, well, vamps I can behead.” Dean mutters, earning a snort of laughter from you that makes his lips twitch up into a smile. “Just look at me, yeah? Just like in the garage.” You tell him. He nods, swallowing, and keeps his eyes locked on you, which really isn’t hard to do. Just as he eases into it, the faster-paced song transitions to a slow-dance, and he freezes, instantly panicking.

You squeeze Dean’s hand comfortingly. “Dean, we can sit down, I’m only kidding, I didn’t mean to make you so uncomfortable.” You explain with a guilty frown. Here you are, trying to get the boys to relax, and instead poor Dean is looking at you like someone told him his impala is being towed. Dean stops you, shaking his head. “No. No, just, uh, don’t laugh at me. I haven’t done this in... well, ever.” He says gruffly. You smile fondly. Your knight in shining plaid is nervous you’ll tease him for being a clumsy dancer. “Promise I won’t laugh. Well, maybe a little.” You say, and Dean shoots you a glare that vanishes when you give him a cheesy grin. “You’re a dork.” He smirks. “Takes one to know one, Winchester.” You wink.

“Dean, you’re stepping on me.” You tell him, biting your lip to stifle a laugh at the instant mortification on Dean’s face. “Shit, sorry!” “S’okay. You’re doing great. You are one in a million, Dean. Big, bad hunter, scared to dance with me.” You laugh softly. Dean huffs, and you smile. He’s slowly getting the hang of it, with your help, of course.

“Hey, what was Sam talking about earlier?” You ask. Dean falters, and you nearly trip, stumbling into his chest. You don’t know if you’re really standing still or if it only feels like time has halted, Dean’s green eyes staring into you.

His eyes drop to your lips. You’re not sure you’re breathing.

“Sam doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Dean says after a long moment. His eyes dart away, and you frown slightly. “That’s not what I asked you.” “Y/N.” He says intently, hoping you’ll drop the subject, because the direction the conversation is going, Dean is going to be forced to make the decision he’s been putting off for so many years. “Dean.” You echo, just as firmly, not letting him escape your gaze. Dean steps back slightly, and you realize the song is over. You let go of Dean’s hands, disappointment and embarrassment washing over you. “Thanks for the dance.” You say, trying to hide your sadness.

You make it all of three steps before Dean reaches out for you. “Hey, Y/N, wait.” He says quickly, hand grabbing yours. “What?” “Can I have this dance?” “You don’t dance.” You say, confused. He looks at you for a long moment, a smile slowly forming on his face. “No,” Dean agrees, holding your gaze with his, “but you do. So?” “So what?” “So, can I have this dance?” Dean repeats. You nod, and he leads you back out. It’s another slow song, and Dean pulls you a little closer than before, staring at you intensely.

“What?” You ask, quirking a brow. “Can I ask you something?” “Ok?” You agree hesitantly. “Why do you always sit next to me in the booths?” Dean asks. You swear you can your heart plummet like a lead weight. “What?” “Yeah. How come you always share with me when we have to bunk up because there’s only two beds in motels? And how come you wanted to dance with me so bad?” He presses. “I- well, I-” You stammer, absolutely thrown for a loop, and he smiles briefly. “See, ‘cause, I’ve got this theory that the answer to that is sorta like the answer to the question you asked me earlier.” He continues, confusion and dread creeping up on you. “Dean, listen, we don’t have to talk about it-” “I think we do. I want to. Here’s the thing, Y/N. I don’t dance.” “Then why are you-?” You trail off. “Because you asked me to. And I can’t say no to you. What Sam said, earlier- you are.” He says, ducking his head. “I am what?” You frown. “Awfully special. To- to me.” Dean says quietly, blushing, and suddenly it makes sense. “Oh.” “Oh? That’s all you’re gonna say? I tell you I have feelings for you, and all I get is ‘oh’?” Dean asks, blinking in disbelief. He looks like he’s about to bolt, so you lean up and before he can make another smartass comment, you press your lips softly to his.

“Oh.” Dean breathes, staring at you. You smile, and he grins, and both of you laugh, not caring if anyone is looking. “Man, we’re a couple’a real idiots, huh?” Dean chuckles. “If I knew this is how it would end up, I would’ve asked you to dance with me a long time ago.” You tease, earning yourself another brief kiss. “I’ll dance with you all you want, sweetheart.” Dean says with a warmth in his eyes you’ve seen a thousand times before but never knew the reasoning for. You laugh as Dean twirls you, ducking under his arm with a bright smile he can’t help but return.

At some point you vaguely recall Dean promising to show you the rest of his dance moves in private, and you stealing the keys to Baby from his back pocket. You’re not sure how you managed to make it safely back to the bunker, and you definitely forgot to bring Sam, but you and Dean had spent years pining after one another and weren’t about to waste another night.

You smile, looking over your shoulder to find a familiar freckled and scruffy face pressed against your pillow. Dean’s still asleep, his arm a solid and warm weight over your bare waist, his chest firm against your back. His dark blond hair is a mess from you running your fingers through it, and you don’t want to know how your own hair looks, but you really don’t even care. You scramble for the sheets as the door knob turns. Sam gives you the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen, and the urge to fling a shoe at him is strong. “Y’know, when I told you to do something about your puppy love for Dean, I didn’t exactly mean ditch me at the pub to go sleep with him.” Sam says with a wiggle of his brows. Your face feels hot. “Sam.” You whisper warningly. “I told you he liked you.” Sam says. “Go. Away.” You whisper, glaring. Sam snickers. “You owe me, Y/N, we shook on it.” “As I recall, you said he wouldn’t dance with me, so you pay up, Sam.” You retort. Sam scoffs, and you glare even harder. “Sammy, shut up and leave us alone.” Dean’s sleepy voice grumbles, his eyes not even open as he blindly flips his brother off. Dean waits for the door to close and Sam’s footsteps to retreat down the hall before he finally looks at you.

“Jesus, thought he’d never leave.” Dean mutters. You grin, and Dean gives you a devious smirk, planting a kiss on your neck. “Dean!” You laugh. “Who says I was done with you? Sam can handle a few hours without us, and I’ve got you all to myself.” Dean says, and you don’t bother pretending to be mad when his lips meet yours, feeling him smile.

Who knew all it would take to finally get you and Dean together was one dance?

TAGS-

Forever Tags-

@justagirlinafandomworld

Dean Babes-

@herstarburststories

SPN Pond-

@spnfanficpond

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #spnfanficpond #writer #request #one shot

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jpegjade · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Glasses - Spencer

explination: yes, you’ve seen this idea before. i posted it like 2 weeks or so ago. i didn’t know where to go with it so i called on you guys. genius anon gave me some guidelines and i went with it, coming up with some ideas along the way. so this one is for you, anon. there were some things i added but we’ve got you to thank, really.

warnings: none. it’s fluff

_____________________

You can blame the unsub for your current predicament. You could blame yourself for your current situation. But in all honesty? You could blame Spencer for the current issue. And that’s exactly what you chose to do.

“Step in 3, 2, 1, now.” Spencer said, guiding you down the stairs in your apartment complex.

Your arm wrapped around his, as if you were going to a fancy night out in the 50’s, you were slowly and steadily trying to make it to the Lyft so the two of you could get to work on time.

“Spencer, I can see it.” You said.

“No, you can’t, which is why I’m here.” Spencer said through a blurry smirk.

Everything was horribly blurry since you broke your glasses in a scuffle with the last unsub. You didn’t know where your back-up pair of glasses were so you were stuck not being able to see anything clearly unless you shoved it close enough to your face that your nose was touching it. Even then, things weren’t clear enough to make use of anything.

Immediately after Spencer realized that you needed help moving around, he came to your aid. He treated you with such kindness and a gentle touch that you didn’t mind having your best friend around. He knew your schedule best since his schedule was basically the same thing. He had been sleeping over at your house for the past 3 days, which almost reminded you of being a kid again.

“I have your badge. I’ll scan it.” Spencer said as the two of you entered the building.

“Spencer, you know you’re doing the absolute most, right?” You sighed, stepping into the elevator.

“I am not doing the most. I feel like I could be doing more for you.” Spencer said, pressing the button in the elevator.

He removed his arm from the current position, your arm wrapped around his, and you began to feel sad about it until you noticed him slipping his hand in yours. You tried to keep a smile from your face but it was a struggle.

The problem was you had the biggest crush on Spencer. He was everything you wanted in a guy and he treated you with the highest level of kindness and respect but then again, everyone else got the same treatment. He was just that kind of person. Maybe this was just Spencer being a friend. Did friends hold hands?

“Y/N?” Spencer said, sitting across the aisle from you at his desk.

“Hmm?” You turned your head towards Spencer, squinting but that didn’t make it any better.

You were completely zoned out, thinking about your best friend. It wasn’t like you could see anything anyway so you might as well just think while you sat at your desk working on cases. Being inside your head like that was quite common but at least you could see things when you decided to zone out.

“You were staring off into space. Do you need help with your file? I should help you with your file.” Spencer said, rolling himself over to your desk.

“Spencer you have your own case files.” You protested as he struggled to scoot into a comfortable position at your desk.

“It will only take me about an hour to go through them.” Spencer said as he opened the first folder on the top of your stack, quickly reading over everything.

“You don't have to do this, Spence.” You said, grateful for his help.

“Okay then tell me what this says.” Spencer was trying to prove a point.

Everything on the page semi blended together into one continuous blur. You were grateful that you didn’t have to see the gruesome crime scene photos from the case but you wished that Spencer’s point was wrong. He was smug for a while whenever he was right about something.

“Fine, you can help.” You said, crossing your arms. “But you can only read to me. You can’t solve anything for me unless I ask for a consult.”

“Deal.” Spencer said. You just knew he was smiling.

3 hours and one case later, you were beyond tired. You haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately although you’ve never felt safer in your apartment.

“You need coffee?” You asked Spencer, who was about to read the next line of the case file.

“Sure. I’ll get it for you.” Spencer shot up and the same time you got on your feet, sending the case file toppling to the ground.

“I got it, Spence.” You said, smiling at his blunder.

Walking to the kitchen area, you almost tripped on Morgan’s foot, practically ran into Garcia because you couldn’t really see if she was walking towards you or around you, and you couldn’t tell how far away the coffee brewer was so you looked like an idiot while you waved your arm around the counter.

“You okay there?” Rossi came by, grabbing a food box from the newly cleaned fridge.

“I’m fine. I got this.” You squinted harder. Had it not been for his voice, you would’ve definitely not been able to tell who that was.

You had to stretch to get a cup from the cabinet because whoever washed them put your halloween themed cup somewhere you can’t reach. You knew it was yours by the colors. Garcia’s cups were much more vibrant and magical, in a way.

Standing on the very tips of your toes, leaning against the counter for support, you were almost there. Just a little bit more and…

“I got it.” Spencer said, coming up behind you.

He didn’t want you to fall off balance so he slipped his arm around your waist and kept it there for a while. The butterflies you felt in your stomach were incredible. His touch was so soft yet firm and you easily imagined his hips holding you in place in other situations, which you would later, but right now you crossed your arms and angry squinted at Spencer.

“I could’ve gotten it on my own.” You said, pouting.

“If you looked at the probability that you would get the cup, it was low. The probability that you would break another cup in the process was excessively high so I did what made the most sense, statistically.” Spencer looked blankly at you, which didn’t matter because you couldn’t really make out his expression anyway.

“Okay, nerd.” You said, taking the cup from him.

You ghosted your hand around the counter before you felt Spencer put the coffee brewer in your hand. You let out a small huff before trying to navigate a way to pour coffee without Spencer’s help. You almost got it when you felt his hand around your hand, holding the barrel of the mug, while you poured coffee into it. His hand was so soft and warm and you couldn’t believe it was wrapped around yours again.

“Y/n, I think that’s enough.” Spencer chuckled.

You didn’t even notice that your coffee cup was about to spill over. You sighed and shakily put the coffee brewer back on the base. It was a hard process but you did it while Spencer whispered whether you were hot or cold in your ear.

“Reid. Y/l/n. We’ve got a case.” Emily said, walking past the two of you.

You gently carried your cup of coffee to the bullpen, Spencer holding your hand the whole way. You didn’t even notice until Spencer pushed open the door and everyone’s talking ceased. Garcia was beaming at the two of you while you separated, taking seats next to each other at the table. JJ’s normal seat to your left was open so Spencer slid in, dropping your hand. You missed the soft, warm feeling of his hand in yours. It was a special feeling that you didn’t know you needed so much.

“You’ve got me next to you, Prentiss to your right, Morgan to her right, Hotch walking through the door, and Garcia standing right in front of the screen, and JJ standing next to her.” Spencer said, pointing out everyone who was in the room.

“Spencer if you don’t cut it out and quit babying me, I will shove this coffee cup up your-”

“Y/L/N.” Hotch said, sitting down. “Garcia, the case?”

“Today, my sweet children, is another grizzly case and not the cute bear kind.” Garcia said, turning towards the screen and clicking the button on the remote extra hard because it got stuck sometimes. This was one of those times, causing a weird silence as she tried to figure it out for a moment.

You sipped your coffee, eyes darting between Spencer and the screen. You weren’t a fan of the images so you typically tried to spend as little time as possible looking at crime scene photos and more time reading the reports. The reports detailed everything for you so you didn’t have to look at the images all the time. The only problem was you couldn’t see anything in the file but that was fine because you didn’t have to see detailed images of the murders.

Going around the table, everyone said their thoughts about the case, you being the last person to chime in about how it might be a woman before Hotch called wheels up in an hour. Not sure why it was so long but you were thankful because you needed to talk to Spencer before take off.

Quickly, everyone filed out of the room to get their bags and you grabbed Spencer’s hand this time.

“Spencer.” You said, watching his body turn to you. From what you could see, his body language was different. Not as open as before.

“You don’t want to be babied, I get it. I hate when the team treats me like a baby too. So I won’t do that.” Spencer said, letting go of your hand.

“No, I was going to apologize. I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I was just a bit frustrated. I do need the help, especially since we’re going into the field and my new glasses won’t be ready until we get back, basically.” You said.

“Right.” Spencer said.

“Do you think you could read the case file to me again? I want to be up to date before you guide me to the jet.” You grinned sheepishly.

“I thought you wouldn’t ask.” Spencer said, happy to be able to help.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine

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sandpumpkin · 4 years ago

Text

A little bit lost

I had sudden VampireAU thoughts. One Pumpkin being the vampire because in canonverse Pumpkin has a bat DF. Selfship ahoy watch out.

Eustass Kid had no idea how he ended up in this deep forest. The townsfolk had been pretty unwelcoming of him and his group. Apparently they didn’t like adventurers in this neck of the woods. “Fuck.” Kid growled as he pushed a low hanging branch out his way only to jostle the tree too much which deposited all the rain acclimating on it’s bountiful leaves on his already soaking frame. Sure his temper wasn’t the best most days but these villagers where so damn rude, they were only passing through and he stormed off and now he was lost in this infernal forest.

The heavens had opened up not long after he left the village and even the tall trees couldn’t shelter him. Thunder rumbled overhead and the rain grew heavier. Kid took a deep breath and cursed loudly carrying on forward, amidst the growing darkness and heavy rain he could barely see his hand in front of his face. Marching ever forward. Kid’s boot got caught on an upturned root, sending him stumbling forward and out of the forest falling to his knees before a huge elaborate iron fence which sounded a lone manor house.

Pushing himself up and pulling the gate open, it squeaked dreadfully as it opened. “What is it with rich folks not oiling shit.” he grumbled, heading towards the house. ‘This is the sort of place they’ll have me arrested for trespassing.’ Lighting illuminated the skies and the rain grew louder. “Not much choice.” he huffed, knocking once loudly and reached for the handle which clicked softly ‘It’s open?’

The house was welcomingly warm and dimly lit. The sound of the rain felt like it was far behind him now. Kid shivered, he suddenly realised how cold he was.

“You seem to be a little bit lost traveller.'' The sudden voice made him jump as lighting flashed outside, casting a brief brightness in the lobby. A small figure stood on the staircase to his left, holding an oil lantern. As they grew closer, he got a better look at her. The dress she wore had huge puffed shoulders, the sleeves and collar were black and the majority of it was white with black roses embroidered in it.

Her hair was a bright orange like the flame of the lantern in her hand. “You look cold. Come warm yourself by the fire and I shall fetch you some dry clothes and something to eat.” she smiled, gesturing for him to follow. Kid was speechless, he hadn’t heard her come down the stairs and in such a gown he would have surely heard the rustle of the fabric. “Are you alright?” she asked when he didn’t move from the doorway. Nodding slowly he followed, he couldn’t find his words which was very unlike him.

The living area was lavishly decorated and the log fire was casting soft warm glows and a welcoming heat. “You’re quite a way from the town.” she stated, offering Kid the fancy chesterfield by the fire.

“A bit lost.” he mumbled, quickly removing his sopping wet shirt, letting it land with a slorp by his feet. Shit.. he had forgotten his company and cast his eyes to the side. Her face was glowing, is that just the fire… her eyes darted around nervously. Kid found his confidence again, leaning on the mantle of the fireplace and flashed her a playful smirk “what’s wrong princess?” she jolted and her eyes washed over his bare chest shyly.

“I..I will.. You must be cold! Let me get you that change of clothes.” she whirled around quickly and hurried out of the room. Kid pouted and kicked his boots off, they were heavily caked in mud and he was suddenly aware of the mess he had dragged in with him. Whoever owned this place would have his head in the morning. When his host reappeared with clothes and a towel for him he managed to breach the topic “You ain’t going to turn me in in the morning?” he wiped the linger wet from his skin with the weirdly soft towel. He wasn’t used to such luxuries.

“Turn you in?” she asked with a tilt of her head “to who? For what?”

“Your parents? I mean...letting a stray in your home-” she laughed at him,

“I live here alone.” she smiled warmly, “There is some soup warming. You must be hungry.” Kid’s stomach replied loudly which spurred another laugh from her “I shall take that as a yes. You can stay the night, there is plenty of space and it’s been some time since I’ve had a guest, especially such a handsome one.” she added and once again left him alone in the room. Kid suddenly felt very warm. As he changed into the nice clean and dry clothes, finally sitting in the arm chair, he couldn’t help but think about his situation. The main question he kept thinking

Why does she live in this huge mansion alone? She didn’t mention servants or anything...and for one person to look after such a big place.. “Whose clothes am I wearing?” he thought out loud. His thoughts were ushered away when she came back with a little trolley ladened with food. “Eat and rest. I can show the way back to the village when the storm clears.” she added, sitting in the chair opposite him cradling a mug in her hands.

“You ain’t eating?” he asked, taking the bowl from the trolley.

“I already ate.” she replied, Kid watched her gracefully sip her tea and she made very little noise. Kid started to wonder if she was really here and this was all a sick dream made by his head. “I’ll answer your questions after you’ve eaten.” she stated, as if she could read his thoughts.

Kid ate his food loudly, slurping, vocalising his enjoyment in loud ‘Mmm’

Occasionally he glanced up, she said quietly in her chair with her tea cup the fire casting an eerie glow on her, it made her look very pale. Strange as she was, he didn’t feel like he was in any danger. Once his belly was full and content, his eyes betrayed him growing heavy.

“You must be tired. Come.” she held out a hand for him to take and he complied like an unseen force was guiding him. She’s cold..

She led him up the stairs and down a long corridor before pushing open a door. Entering first she lit the lamps for him.

Kid’s jaw dropped, the room was not fit for a rough and tumble adventurer like him “you’re letting me stay in here? Ain’t scared i’m going to break or steal something?” he asked, still bewildered. Was she that naive or just very trusting?

“What kind of host would I be if I can’t offer my guests somewhere comfortable to sleep?” she smiled, turning down the huge four poster bed for him “Sleep well.” she said, returning to the door “Goodnight, Kid.” he saw a flash of something else in her green eyes as she walked past him. Kid scratched his head and sat down on the bed only to be almost engulfed by the extremely soft mattress.

“People sleep like this?” Kid gawped and clambered into the bed, resting a hand behind his head he stared up at the ceiling. “Wait..did I tell her my name?”

#pumpkin writes #Metalpumpkin #eustass kid x pumpkin #vampireAU #Wasn't planning to write this #but..I couldn't stop thinking about it #started only as a dribble in discord

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fallingfor-fics · 4 years ago

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Teachers Pet-chapter 14: wandering

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chapter 13

I awoke suddenly feeling a cold breeze of air brush my face, I looked around and realized I had fallen asleep outside against the tree, and it was now nighttime. "Crap" I whispered looking down at my watch. It was already 9 o'clock. How had no one questioned where I was? Better yet how had no one seen me? I frowned a bit at the thought no one came to find me. It was freezing too, considering it was Winter, I'm surprised it wasn't snowing yet.

I stood up and grabbed my bag and began to head back inside the castle to head to my dormitory. I let out a deep breath remembering the realization I had come to before I drifted off. I hated having to deal with this now. Well actually, there really was no way to deal with this. Most people that develop...feelings for someone are actually able to work through and maybe act on them. But not I. I was to be stuck with this for however long it decides to stick around. I don't want to jump to conclusions, it's not like I like the man, I just...fancy him. Yeah, fancy that's the perfect word to describe what I felt for Severus. My potions Professor. Oh merlin y/n what is wrong with you!? He's a teacher for heaven's sake. I need to do everything possible to get rid of this feeling, or redirect it somehow.

I finally made it back into my dormitory and quietly took a shower and got ready for bed. My roommates seemed to be pretty heavy sleepers. I stood in the mirror fresh out of the shower and brushed my hair. Looking at the girl before me, the one who has convinced herself somehow, to fall for this cruel man. But he wasn't cruel was he. Not to me at least. I put my dark green nightgown on and slipped on my panties, exiting the bathroom after washing my face and brushing my teeth. I laid a few pats on Hera and gave her a treat, crawling into bed and looking up at my ceiling. How could this have happened? He was so awful to me when we first met, I mean he's awful to everyone, how did I stem feelings from seeing him a couple extra hours, and pleasing him by passing this test? It all seemed to have happened overnight. I began to realize though it didn't happen overnight, I've felt this way since he saved me from detention with Lockhart. Foolish of me. I closed my eyes waiting to drift asleep, but to no surprise, I couldn't. Typical, the one time I need my thoughts to shut up, they don't, they only hinder me from the peaceful release. I did take a rather long nap earlier, so it makes sense. I got up and slipped on some socks and grabbed my wand. I exited the dormitory and walked out into the dungeons. Holy shit it's cold, I thought to myself. "Lumos" I whispered and began walking down the hall, not in the direction of Snape's class. Last thing I would need right now is to run into a certain brooding man. I crossed my arms over my chest to help with the cold feeling, and continued taking a slow stroll through the castle. I could probably easily get caught and would most definitely get some form of punishment, but I didn't really care. It's not like they'd kick me out or something.

I looked out a window as I passed by it and looked out at the forest. I've heard stories of the Forbidden Forest, but I figured it was forbidden for a reason. I did have some desire to explore it one day though, just not tonight. I continued down the hall and looked at all the portraits as they slept. This school really is wondrous. I do miss Beauxbatons. To think if I hadn't been torn from there I may not be in the predicament I found myself in currently. I decided to head to the kitchens to see if the house elves were still in there, or if they too go and sleep, and maybe i'd be able to get a cup of coffee or something. As I headed that way I heard mumbling voices and turned out my wand and clung to the wall, I looked over the corner to see Professor Flitwick and Professor Lockhart conversing as they walked past and continued monitoring the halls, heading towards the Ravenclaw dormitories. I quietly tiptoed once I saw them out of sight and picked up the pace to the kitchen. As I reached the doors I stood on my toes to look through the windows and saw no one inside. I let myself in and walked over to what I hoped was the coffee machine. Now where's the coffee? I went through each cabinet checking where it could be, it didn't help it was dark, but I didn't wanna risk being seen. I opened and closed each cabinet as quietly as possible still having no luck. I squatted down to the very far end cabinet on the bottom but it was locked, hmm this must be where they keep the coffee so no one drinks it, silly I thought, "Alohomora" I whispered pointing my wand to it and heard it click open. Sure enough to my surprise the coffee was indeed in here, It was a special blend so I was guessing it was one of the teachers in specific, I pulled the jar out and put enough into a filter into the pot to make one cup and then added the water, I pressed the power button and took a few minutes to figure out how to work it. Before I pressed brew I thought for a moment and placed a silencing spell on the room.

After what seemed like forever, but in reality was 5 minutes, the coffee was done and I poured it all into a mug I found on the shelf. I blew on it a bit but it was still very hot. I laid it on the counter and cleaned up the machine. I grabbed the coffee tin and went to place it back in its place, as I squatted down I noticed in the back of this cabinet were a few bottles of firewhiskey and wine. Wow the Professors must have some fun around here. I looked at the brown bottles and thought about it for a moment. No I shouldn't If I get caught with that I would actually be kicked out. I left it alone for now and shut the cabinet, locking it and taking my cup from the counter. I headed out of the kitchen checking to make sure no one was near and took the charm off as I left. I began walking down the quiet and cold halls once more. I then had an idea. I made my way all the way to the stairs that led to the Astronomy tower and headed up in it to sit and enjoy the hot beverage. I stood leaning against the wall looking out over the courtyards and rest of the castle, you could see a lot of the school from here, this was probably my favorite place to come in the whole school. All the stars twinkling above. I took a sip of my cup, the hot liquid running down my throat, a sigh of relief as warmth filled my body. It was very cold up here and I wish I had brought my coat.

I looked up at the sky, and my thoughts began to run, I soon realized the only thing on my mind was My professor. How stupid of me to let this happen. I think the worst part was how I knew I would not be able to confide in anyone about these inappropriate feelings, no one would understand, and who knows they may think I'm dreadful and disgusting. I never confided in my father, and stopped confiding in my mother when I realized anytime I did she would ask me what I did that caused this to happen, it was always my fault no matter how many times I was screwed over. The only one I would ever be able to confide in was my sister. We were very close and she always listened and gave me good advice, she was so understanding, kind, and non judgmental. She was a much better person than I. She would have loved this view too, she would have loved Hogwarts, I just know she would have been in Hufflepuff, she'd fit right in with them. Or maybe Griffyndor, she was so brave when it came down to tough situations. My mother would be a Raven claw no doubt, she's very smart and technical. I don't know what my father would be. "Probably a Slytherin that bastard" I said out loud taking another sip. He attended Durmstrang. I cringed at the thought of him being in my house as well. I was nothing like him. He was horrible and vain, not to mention incredibly sexist and probably everything else you could think of. That asshole was such a phony too. He'd act so chill and nice to people, but it was all a facade to hide his cunty side. I grew frustrated just thinking about him.

I began to feel a hot tear slide down my face, my sister would have tried defending him, she was so sweet, she hated when he and I would fight. Always breaking it up and telling me how he wasnt worth it, and even though he's a jerk he was still our father. I was glad to have left him, hopefully I'd never have to see him again, I'd miss having a dad, but not him. I sniffled and a few more tears came down my face. I sat down on one of the ledges and looked out at the moon, it was so beautiful. I wish I could just live on the moon, carefree, peaceful, and quiet. Numb to everything. I wouldt have to live with these new feelings for this man I would never have. I began to cry more thinking about how dreadful my remaining years here at Hogwarts would be if these feelings did not resolve themselves. I want to blame my after for this, if he didnt leave me so damaged maybe I wouldn't be craving the affection and appreciation from this older man. I wiped my tears as they fell remembering the way he smelt, his smile, his hair, his eyes. They were so dark and held great sadness. I could tell he's been through a lot, but he was good at hiding it. I wiped the tears that still flooded down and looked up to the sky. "What do I do? How do I deal with this?" I asked no one, not expecting a direct response, but some sign at least. "Please. I'm not cut out for this type of thing. Why him? Of all the people here why him? What do I do!" I said as I let my frustration take over and began to cry harder, thinking of this beautiful man that I'd never get to touch and have, that I was growing such strong feelings for.

#snape x reader #snape imagine #severusnape #professor snape #snape #severus snape #severusimagine #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #Snape slowburn #slytherin #hogwarts

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